Long Pixilated Poems
Long Pixilated Poems. Below are the most popular long Pixilated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pixilated poems by poem length and keyword.
A MEDLEY OF MONOKU
a tarnishing of golden years – the murmurings of madness
homeless amid the rubble – the acrid stench of flames
knit one, purl… three kittens – one ball of yarn
a darkened window – separation
too good – too soon – too bad
streetlights and snowflakes – pixilated mirage
table for one – check please
in the midst of plenty – the alleys lie
cold terror - silence – screaming in the darkness
obsession’s deadline – three nips until noon
questions without answers – battery failure
sad bells call the faithful – unaware they are not
failure – potential, rotting on the vine
cur dogs – an angry mob – feeding off each other
©12/22/2017
John G. Lawless
A Passel of People Participated from all Portions of the nation.
The Purpose - To Promulgate the Pickle Pickers and Packers Association!
Parsimonious President Dill Presented a Pretty Powerful oration,
To Pitch a Passionate Plan for their Prestigiious organization!
Picker seminars Provided Pertinent Particulars for Participants,
Pertaining to the Proper Pampering for Perpetuating Pickle Plants.
Packer Panels Propounded ways to Perfect Professional Panache,
For Packing dills and gherkins Perfectly so that they dare not smash!
A blue-ribbon Panel Picked the Pickle Princess in all her Persnickety Pomp.
A working Party Picked the Pickle Prince and his Pompous aide-de-camp!
A Patron Provided a Plastic Plaque for the Pickle Picker of the Year.
A Packer won a Prize as top Pickle Purveyor, the Pinnacle of his career!
A quorum was needed but a Passel of People were Pickled in the Pub.
The President was Perturbed, not easily Placated, there in lay the rub!
A Plethora of Pixilated Pickers and Packers Presently repaired,
Protesting that they were Prepared to vote, not in the least impaired!
It was Paramount that the Proceedings not end on a sour note,
So the President Proclaimed a Positive quote for all to Promote:
"We must Project Professionalism and Perfection in great number,
As we Proudly Proclaim the Palatability of the Prosaic cucumber!"
Like a mad man
without a plan,
slightly insane,
dancing in the rain,
pixilated dreams
like shallow streams,
leave me bemused,
restless, but amused,
but my soul is tried
from those bullets fired,
when loved ones depart,
leaves holes in my heart,
as guns aren't coded,
when locked and loaded.
Those memory lanes,
flying paper planes,
despite grey storms,
we had strong platforms.
I wrote my deep quotes
on lost paper boats,
like a budding rose
nobody knows.
Echoes of my mind
are not always kind,
as crows examine
soul's rainless famine.
This sun never shields
in desolate fields.
Yet, I know it's true,
all roads lead to you.
Anacreontic verse is an Ancient Greek lyrical form, consisting of 20- to 30-line poems with three to five syllables per line. Developed by 6th century B.C. poet Anacreon. A form that emerged during the height of the dramatic, musical,
artistic, and poetic culture. The poems revolved around themes of love, infatuation, revelry, festivals, and observations of everyday life. They do not normally rhyme, but I like the challenge.
In 1878, a gent carrying a cane,
Walked at 6 o’clock, down Ingleburry Lane,
A cobbled street, parading horses and carts,
Where gas lights are placed fifty yards apart.
In 2019, a gent with a phone
Walked down Ingleburry Lane, all alone.
Past the coffee shops and trendy boutiques
In this English town, ever so chic.
And so it was where the Lane met Mill Street,
That these two gentlemen did actually meet,
Crossing over, an anomaly in time,
Through a warped, invisible, pixilated line.
One looked at the other through this time warp illusion,
A look from both of total confusion.
In a flash each was in the other’s place,
In a different year, in an alternate space.
The gent from the past, pocket watch in hand
Tried hard to fathom this alien land
As passers by stared and continually asked
‘Why are you dressed from days gone past?’
And the gent from the future looked all out of sync
With his sneakers, jeans and latte drink
And in his hand a redundant phone
Where he could not call an Uber, to take him home.
Panic ensued as they argued their case
That they shouldn’t be here but in another place
From another time, but it’s hard to persuade
A disbelieving crowd you're trying to evade.
Instinctively both retraced their tracks
To the invisible line, in the hope to go back
And both crossed the line with a nod
and a wink
That a return home was now on the brink.
And so, this strange tale, that on Ingleburry Lane
Two time travelling friends, dress the same
For the appropriate era, so as to mingle with ease
Going about their adventures, however they please.