Long Pi Poems

Long Pi Poems. Below are the most popular long Pi by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pi poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Prominent Tongue

I’m just having a good laugh while I still can dude before life takes its heavy grip

Until the community of clowns in disguise tie my tongue to their altar of reason

You think of a genius in the making but I just blew bubbles from my backside

Need some counter balance as not to think I’m off parity before the next photo


For the record I’m a bit sick of all those Rolling Stones songs on your play list

I can get satisfaction and you will be dancing to my tune as long as I tell you

Not yet silenced I am and you can’t always get what you want but will receive

What you need and moss could grow fat on that stone if you tried hard enough


I am your American dream or just pie in the sky for pi is a resolute number

And while I look like a young Einstein I favour the arts and a poet I’ll be

‘Baby’s got blue eyes holding back the pain’ reflecting the glow on your face

Give me face paint and Munch’s scream will look like Monet’s water colours


And those cute little ears I hear you marvel such fine complete composition 

Soon they will find an audition of rebellion ignoring trite shallow advice

Craft verses and rhythm deliver fine words you never dreamt of hearing

The comedy will be shattering with a bit of existential philosophy in the mix


You can project dadada’s and incy-wincy spiders as long as the cows mew

I drink from a fountain of pleasure and spill ink on your canvas of conditioning

Think that I am overanalysing but that is what you do when I smirk and giggle

Canned laughter comes in Campbell’s soup cans and better Warhol than wars


Innocent facial composure lies in the eye of beholders and dreams are for real

Let me play for that is the best I can do when drama and tragedy loom so soon

I’ll have my dreadlocks in plaits and you must not be scared of Sylvia’s mother

Van Gogh had one ear but a writer needs only one incisive tongue to critique 


My stream will be subconscious when I write about the meaning of imagination

When naïve contortions depict a world with smiles laughter and freedom

I will not change much from when the photographer took this digital image

Blue eyes stuck out tongue two ears one voice whatever you make of it now


25th April 2019


Written for contest: Baby Face What's You Thinkin

Sponsored by James Edward Lee Sr

Photo 2
joy


Premium Member Social Climbing Jacob's Ladder

I wrestle with against vulnerable boundaries
to invasive intimacy,
left unlanguaged yet right felt dismay
could not sustainably remain
without being said outloudlyish
in some bicameral bilateral bipolar balancing brainiac
polypathically left merely cooperationalizing,
creolizing Sacred Elders feeling self-righteous
matriarchal nutritionisms,
spiritual and diminished secular scientissues
falling failing OtherWise,
hypothetical proofs of co-incidence.

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Not not here.

I wish.
Go notnot away.

Where dissonance grows troubling
such dismay's source is left label searched for
within economic causes
producing secular with sacred ecological effects
to become biologically expected
in and through bilateral regenerational returns,

depending on the faith systemic word choices preferred
by All EarthLives Matter
sacred ecosystemic recoverers,

co-listening
deep mutual learners
comfortable in tranquil ponds
of lucid equal harmonies
ringing double-boundaries
singing
winging
flinging not here not now
invisible hypotheses
of Zero-Core bicameral bilaterality.

Rich loving mentors,
teachers,
but please,
not another preacher
of cognitive patriotism
against affective ecofeminist intuitive self-defense
begun against
lunar-scheduled matriotism,
offense against solar Yanger
wanger
bangers,
Pi to pay
the multiculturing pipers,
ecofitters,
multiculturing quilters
and organic happy, sometimes a little high,
farmers
of antiquity,
herstoric myth tellers
and legend gossips
and polypathic paradigming architects
exforming evolutionary incarnations
as revolutionary reverse-notnot
evolutionary
yet as now appositionally bilateral
absence of cognitive-affective dissonant
boundaries 
of vulnerably echoing reiterative transparency,
both ego threat of rightwing dominant terrorism
and eco-opportunity,

left with right wing ego/eco-dominance
as positive psychology
and EarthTribe EcoJustice
complicated redisunprecovery 
of often deep dense politics.

All about atomizing power
both/and wavey-linear flow.

Wherein we wrestle with,
but preferably not against, 
vulnerable boundaries
about too invasive double-binding intimacy
left unlanguaged 
yet right felt dismay,
sung in  
and through thin
diminishing dissonance.

Premium Member Wen Hairy Met Tarry

(Revised with new homophone added in. Thanks for the catch, Becca!)

*Wants upon **uh thyme inn uh would, uh vary gneiss prints named Hairy
met inn the missed, hi awn the bow of uh tree- uh ferry named Tarry.

The ferry felt lo, fore he was week, and he was inn knead of sum meet.
He bald, “Whoa is me. Eye cant even stand hear awn my own too feat!

My pour hart is braking, and I’m inn  pane. The last thyme that eye eight
was daze ago. Ewe sea,  I’m inn uh hays and due naught feel sow grate.

Eye parish and long fore whine and ham. Even bettor wood bee lam!
Butt eye wood settle four uh peace of bred with sum suite bury jam!”

Prints Hairy new he had sum mince, sum Tick Tax that **whir inn the pear
of gnu read genes he war. He took them out  and waived them inn the heir.

*“Lickerish to, eye halve write hear!” Prints Hairy tolled the ferry.
“Its naught much, butt pleas dew eat. Later awn, wheel dyne and make marry.”

Prints Hairy placed the ferry Tarry aun his pail ***wight hoarse.
Then aweigh the roil with the ferry hastened aun his homeward coarse.

Awl day long they road and road.  ***Wen the ferry started to grown.
Suddenly, from the hoarse, both the man and ferry whir throne. 

Hungrily they paste beneath the setting son and threw the knight.
They pressed awn until mourning. Hairy’s residents came inn cite!

Prints Hairy’s wife had supper ready, and she’d maid uh pi.
From udder happiness, the ferry thought that he mite dye!

She *heeded up they’re food four them. They both had groan sew pail!
She listened as the ferry Tarry tolled his tragic tail .  .  .

of  how heed lost his weigh and, four food, had knot won crumb
until her deer spouse rescued hymn. At last, his prints had come!


Written April 10, 2015, using homophones from various lists. 
Note: I did not use letters, for example, U for “you” ; they were not on the lists I found.
Neither was “hee” which I was going to use for “he.”
The main list used was The HOMOPHONES LIST of John F Troutman and Joy A Miller
* these are a few more homophones I found on Wikipedia’s list.
** these homophones appear on Homophones.com, perhaps the most comprehensive one. 
*** These homophones, perhaps antiquated, are from Suber & Thorpe British English
Form: Couplet

Shelton Washington State

(do enjoy frolicking gently imaginatively)

County seat, of Mason County, 
   Washington, United States
westernmost city on Puget Sound 
   above ground sans tectonic plates

population 9,834 per 2010 census 
   end result from biological mates
maintains commission form 
   of government drafted by mandates.

Shelton served by small steamboats 
   comprising Puget Sound Mosquito Fleet 
Old Settler, Irene, Willie, City of Shelton, 
   Marian, Clara Brown, & S.G. Simpson 
   logging, farming, dairying, ranching 
   & oyster cultivation for populace to eat

Simpson Timber Company mill 
   on Puget Sound's Oakland Bay over yon
   dominates landscape of the down
   town area as essential heart beat
Shelton identifies the "Christmas 
   Tree Capital" sold by the ton.

47°12'49?N 123°6'22?W (47.213702, 
   -123.106088) coordinate bench mark
   total area of 5.9 square miles (15 km2), 
   of which 5.6 square miles (15 km2) land 

0.3 square miles (0.78 km2) (5.60%) 
   water laps with an occasional errant shark
   in a pinch captured, processed and canned
a delicacy that fin de siecle bony 
   illegal booty fined by the oceanic narc.

well nigh two and a half decades in the past
   this poet trekked across America 
   beginning in a place called Gap
Pennsylvania  - where stockpile 
   of Amish goodies barely did last
   and vanished in a gingerly snap

of fingers, which necessitated 
   sustenance when van fueled i.e. gassed
   up while myself or the other 
   driver stole a short nap
seduced to sleep by syncopated tires 

   as highway miles passed
   inching closer to youngest sister 
   via this linear transcontinental lap
destination Seattle Washington 
   indigenous iconic statue cast.

Ronald Strickland a fine companion 
(posted bulletin for traveling fine companion
at Hostelling International - Chamounix Falls Mansion
West Fairmount Park),

   and boone story teller to boot
about my age (now five decades plus nine) 
   then trying to rake in some loot
by writing about his travels, 

   yet unpretentious and not able
   to square an Apple pi circle 
   nor, calculate square a root
perhaps one day, I will surprise him 
   with a call and give him a toot.
Form: Epic

Deer Colette

Deer Colette,

Thank u four the sweater. Eye did knot no it wood cost that much. It was hire than eye thought. Eye love it! U or such a suite heart.
All sew, thank u four the pitchers u cent. Eye can knot bee leave how big you’re brother Johnny has groan. Pour Johnny, he used two wine a lot as a kid with his snotty knows, lol. Girl, eye steel remember how much Kim used two teas him, an that thyme he fell off his bike. Man, that brews was bad, but it heeled pretty fast.
Win he was younger he wanted two bee a male man, is that steel sew?

Buy the weigh, how or u? Eye mist seeing u four you’re birthday, sew eye am souper egg cited an looking four wood two hour family reunion this weak inn. Eye herd the whether will bee cold, sew eye no u or glad yall or flying this thyme. The plain is much quicker, eye like flying. Eye flu two Knew Orleans, Atlanta and Lost Vegas. Each thyme the whether was just write. The sky was blew with beautiful, wite puffy clouds.

Anyway, Uncle Gem, Ant Lisa an the kids or driving down two day. He tolled me it takes ate ours, but heel bee hear inn fore. He said he was filling week a few days ago, but knot anymore. He’s much better, sew that’s good two here.
Wee wheel meat them at the maul later. Eye do knot have thyme two waist. Can u bee leave inn a few daze it wheel bee Christmas? Eye knead two get sum shopping dun an out the weigh two day. The stows better have sum good sails, bee cause eye want two bye my gifts an rap them up quickly without any won seeing, witch wood bee impossible two dew bee cause nosey Lilly is coming with us.

Win u get hear, u gotta get inn that kitchen an cook. Yeah, eye steel remember u maid that apple pi. O, it was sew good. Eye took the biggest peace. Eye wood have eight the hole thing if it wasn’t for Johnny, lol.

Colette, eye was thinking, next year eye want two take a crews. Eye want two travel the whirl. Eye all wazes say it, but never due it. Eye scene a grate deel on this web sight. U no sum web sights lye, sew eye hope the price is what it says. Eye wood love four u two come with me. Let me no what u think.
 
Well cousin, its knight thyme inn eye have two get up early, have a safe flight. Aisle sea u soon. 

Love u four ever,
Emily


Premium Member To Hell With Reason

a jolly darling right angle went straight out of the lateral box

fed up with grinding a living on the periphery of pure reason

he thought back to his square roots and longed for a change


his strict Dad Monty Pythagoras had been rather level headed

had equated logic premises and conclusions with happiness

a refined man steeped in knowledge in search for great virtue


his Mom Pi however never lived up the promise of her name

strayed from her calculated path of predetermined precision

abandoned caution and boredom and soaked in a bubbly bath 


Archimedes my **** I can’t throw the baby out of the water

had a fling with Plato in his cave and settled for the kitchen

made the best strawberry crumble from recipes of her aunt


Little Monty Pi enjoyed whipped cream and emotion much more

than obedience and hypothenuses and left mere equations behind

licked off the whisk and dreamed of the perfect circle for good


vanilla emotions danced with sweet sugar candy mountains as

his feelings submerged into a fantasy world coated in cinnamon

he was warned that he might have eggy intuitions on his face 


for shells would easily crack and ovations weren’t perfectly round 

but his world was not flat anymore and he wished for perspectives

of a different kind than sitting in the lost corner at ninety degrees


if you can stand the heat you should remain in the bakehouse 

savour cookies or condensed milk tarts for such exquisite cuisine

beats mere cognition and the dour fragrance of stale rationale


Mum chuckled while Dad despaired and took out his slide rule

proposed that life was no honey pot and cooking was effluvium

misleading and not up to the fine task of consequential virtues


but like most kids he would only listen to what he wanted to hear

put Nirvana on the headphones and closed his mind to objections

eventually he learnt that life was really a giant rigged rollercoaster


maybe the strawberries were laced with psychedelic truth serum

or the icing on the gateau was to abandon forethought and planning

most of all that he was neither circle nor angle and just needed to be


30th August 2020

Letter To The Editor



             Your judgments have me grinning.
Don't pretend you were immune 
from the Avarice of Pride.

Which you delved past cover packet 
into the gutworm of stardoms naked lunch?

Unfolding the artwork of your Deathsnake Bands- ministering to idol hands, 
wandering the scent of artwork sleeve.
'Scent of new jacket 
with walking around money in the pockets 
made of 'feited hourglass sand.

Do you not find it pathetic and ugly, 
to keep chanting me me me?

I like how they are stringed pearls of sos-, 
smokerings, 
death row-, 
'peals of that Apple 
"standing up to be counted with pi 
and to give account" 
as a bridge to understanding your insanity 
and to give creedence to your selfish lies 
of phi, 
relational patterns of why is the sky...
-
Maggots of your own carrion luggage 
left to fester to the Son.

Sacrificial Poseidon Aquariums, 
Babylon Hanging Gardens, 
Bloodsport of perceived insects in arena of jar, of Leviathan Media Priests and Running-man television, 
(Black) arts.

Did you invent the term movie star?
(Vanity Smurf tearer), 
take a look as reality draws nearer.

Symbiose of the mind's chemical- sea trench monsters.

Rally the sheeples to stampede by your musical serenadings, 
box spring snakes coiled 
in union of souls call of tune.

Do you court the Druids to "tie a yellow ribbon round the old Oak Tree..."

Such Romanticide, needy.

(Your True : CHORUS)
A falling star hung in the air by insindiary glare 
legislating from your bench
like Hephaestus tears
tinkering above a lossless accomodater
puppeting to speak your own truth
while pride sets up another soothsayer booth

Lucy, you got kisses for five cents,
while the world is monopoly 
burning your marketplace incense, 
falling for the fallen to pay for incoming recompense.

So, Nephilim pretending to be our Creators 
is your next one, huh.

Soon, the World will see, your sumptuous gush 
of trans-humanity
is just mental masturbation 
fantasy 
escaping the real thing.
art

Oy vey iz mir, one day in the life of a common house broken schmeckle

Oy vey iz mir, one day in the life of a common house broken schmeckle...,

who did pötschke
and squander many an opportunity
to become a mensch
instead he became persona non grata
condemned to a history of misery,
not unlike Doctor Hyde and Mister Jekyll,
where friends, Romans countrymen did heckle.

After all said and done,
I best have stayed
safe and sound in the womb,
or hopefully at the least honored after death
with a squadron of B-52s
flying overhead with vroom
while being enshrined in a tomb,
cuz the living years of yours truly (me),
one after another trial and tribulation did loom
which figurative weave
courtesy weft and warp wove gloom
ordained I experienced hell on earth,
thus an inescapable doom
left no option except to skadaddle
into the outer limits of the twilight zone
at the edge of night
courtesy magic broom.

Plenty of times,
I ate in a crowded house,
where the crawdads sing
sinking their teeth into cranberries, meatloaf
and red hot chili peppers
served with a side order of pop slop
don't be put off by the name,
which mishmash actually yum zook,
nevertheless cuisine fiends spurred a tussle
where flock of seagulls
who got into a spat took
sparring mates to the cleaners
with angry yardbirds twittering about xyz,
and tweeting when loosely translated
into English language essentially meant
much ado about floccinaucinihilipilification,*
(Sounds like
flaa·suh·now·suh·nai·uh·luh·pi·luh·fuh·kay·shn)
according to legendary interpretation
by expert ornithologist with keen insight
rivaling that of the eagles
known for their skill playing chess
ofttimes, use an upside-down rook
to designate a queen
under United States chess federation
rules and in casual play take a look
for yourself, rather than believe amateur
what might be considered poppycock hook
line and sinker qualifying as gobbledygook,
which utter nonsense I did cook
up, yet please feel welcome my gibberish to brook
*the estimation of something as worthless.
Form: Rhyme

Whither Dysmorphia

There is no doubt that man has progressed far beyond his worth
The human race has earned its place upon this planet Earth
But think on this – one architect above us standing tall
Accomplished in a heartbeat something greater than them all

Your body is the product of intelligent design
Far greater than the robots on the car production line
No need for slide rules, formulas, computer buffs or pi  
‘twas fashioned from the dust within the twinkling of an eye

Did you know, for example all your blood vessels unfurled
Would stretch 100,000 miles – that’s four times round the world
Each single step you take today to hold your bodyweight
Employs 200 muscles just to keep you standing straight

Your skeleton is fragile and a break takes time to heal
But pound for pound your bones are stronger than the toughest steel
The colours of the rainbow – one of natures greatest views
Yet the human eye can recognise ten million separate hues

Annoyed when you forget stuff but no wonder it’s a pain
There’s a million billion bits of info stored inside your brain
So, music calms the savage breast, no doubt you’ve heard it too 
But your heartbeat synchronizes with the tune you’re listening to 

You’re smelling something iffy, have you brought deodorant
To your nose, no sweat, It’s one of over fifty thousand scents

Your DNA coiled tight within the confines of your frame
Unfurled; ten billion miles to Pluto ( and back home again )
Your heart will pump 360 million pints of blood
And drive a truck for 20 miles with energy it’s stored

The average camera has 5 megapixels so we’re told
the human eye outstrips it by at least a hundredfold
Your atom count alone should cause your knees to bow and bend 
An Octillion has more than 20 zeroes at the end

So whilst we should be proud of what we’ve managed to achieve
And Moore’s Law will continue to inform us, I believe
Your body is the greatest work of art you’ll ever see
Thanks be to God for choosing to create humanity.

Pi(E) Day Sestina Part 1

Pi (e) Day Sestina

being the recollection of a conversation between myself as I was trying to enjoy a piece of 
pie and my suddenly irrational, demanding, and surprisingly bilingual stomach on 3/14

I really want a frosted sugar cookie right now.
Now, don’t think I’m loca
but if you don’t get me one I’m going to get Chuck
Norris to roundhouse kick you in the face.  His lust
y pectorals: tan, hairy and torsional, will be but a blur in your memory.  Never underestimate 
the power of the one who can even make pi
a rational number.  Oh irrational love of sugar cookies!  I can almost taste the sweet buttery 
goodness of the frost

ing melting in my mouth like the frost
y ice crystals busy changing states of matter now
on top of the piece of pie
hastily served to you before properly thawed at the loca
l diner, piled high with enough fake whipped cream to satiate even the lust
iest of appetites.  “Who would chuck, even if they could chuck, would chuck

away such a flawless embodiment of pre-prepared, packaged, processed, passed off as 
home-cooked goodness in favor of a stale cookie, and on Pi(e) Day nonetheless?” you chuck
le.  That snide remark is deserving of the bestowal of my best Queen Frost
ine stare, you know, cold and queenly and vaguely reminiscent of  the Candyland character 
with the same name, whose (il)lust
riousness is matched solely (not only in beauty but also in sugar content) by that of a frosted 
sugar cookie.  I hope you (k)now  
how to take a hint.  No?  Well, then get that pie-filled fork out of my face while I spell it out 
for you.  Loca
te a frosted sugar cookie for me pronto!  This piece of pie

disgusts me!  I don’t care that it’s pi
day!  You’ve got 3.14 seconds to get me a frosted sugar cookie before I up-chuck
all over everything in this immediate loca
le!  Don’t make me get all Frost
y the snowman on you now
and have a meltdown!  Wow, I need to stop and take a deep breath.  I’m making myself 
extremely (f)lust
Form: Sestina

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