Long Placards Poems

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


Wokery, no just jiggery pokery

Febrile Fog obfuscates palimpsest varnished promises..

Naysayers hoodwinked... deluded players peeling layers..denuded..

Deafening din of our chagrin...

Espoused by rabbles roused by mandarins’ sins..

Tarnished...pampered pilferers pickpocketing public purses...

Deploring the warring cacophony of citizens curses.. 

Ignoring the boring nagging nadir of nurses...

Corporate castles built without stilts on hourglass sands..

Placards versus lanyards.. 

Culprits preach parsimony from privileged pulpits..

Civic critics.. protests...pyrrhric..?

No tut tuts..relax…gluts of tax cuts for property sluts..

Licentious larcenists..lust for boom then bust..

Lavishly lacing our lives with lies..

Yet the more we holler...hanker..

Murky truths get darker...muckier.. starker..danker..

Avaricious arsonists torching our cries of why...

Leave us lolloping in a regret & forget.. leaking latrine...

Reeking of what could & should have been..
Form: Rhyme


Just Now, I Started To Feel

Just Now, I Started To Feel...
All Stopped Up With Writer's Block

Thus lack any idea about
     what to type out until aye
reach the end, and
     even then cannot
     make any promises (promises -
     this aint no typo typo),
     to meet (even ill)
     equipped outback

     with or without an alley bye,
which dismal situation unlike earlier,
     when fount of literary creativity
     unstoppably gushed profusely
     lichen wherein rub 
     barb plants for rain dee cry
hence, just imagine situation
     (**** guss) to

     being constipated, and dry
miss daisy crazy regarding
     (collective soul sigh'n noses)
     begs for antihistamine,
     asper nostrils to get dry
from congestion - so envision
     both symptoms (for real)
     affected this guy

     bodily woes simultaneously,
     while conservative flash mobs
     sprout like pollen haters
trample grass roots
     activists chanting jai
     guru dev donned as barenaked,
     foo fighting, nirvana 
     seekers no lie

trucking with pearl jam
     hued open skyz
     passing one black crow
     did house after another
     jet ting via reo speedwagon
     greeting village people
     mix ultra liberal protesters,
     who peaceably demonstrate my

self included holding recycled
     placards, sans 
     targeting well nigh
Republicans Putin on the Ritz
     must be ousted,
     cuz them that har pry
ha merrily bilking work

     a day citizens seated
     on their tushy in expelling qui
yet deadly flatulence athwart
     cushy congressional seats
     to ease government lackeys,
     who trumpet "FAKE" news.

Premium Member Soviet Story

Hungary 1956
The innocent flowers peered gingerly
Through the stench in the iron pavement
   Hesitating, then stretching the petals greedily
   To drink of the sunlight of Possibility...

       Czechoslovakia 1968
Beaming, grinning, grown men giddy with laughter
Liberty unleashed! Gone Repression's manacles
   Now marching, shouting, swelling to a gale force
   Unstoppable, sweeping aside all resistance in her path...

          Happy Endings
...When, bludgeoned by cement-faced tanks
     Petals ducking inward, collapsing
     Pistils and stamens suffocating
     Vanished smiles annihilated
     Choked on oxygen-depleted
     Placards of Freedom unbetrothed...

...All the flowers died...
   ...All the people withered...
      ...Crushed -- oh-so --Happily --ever  --after

Placards

Wall posters

There is in a town, not far from here, a house with a tall wall a solid protector from prying eyes, the house has shuttered windows, which makes it a Mediterranean dwelling
The wall is a perfect place to put up posters of coming 
attraction, when the stout opera lady is singing at the people's hall or when the circus is coming to town
Posters of different colors tell of a future promise that has come and gone.
There is a square with a cafe with tables and chairs that serves home-cooked meals at lunch, simple food with
tomato salad and wine served from big bottles with no labels, and when empty, can be filled again.
As for the posters on the wall, there have not been any new ones, lately people have computers and read the papers, well informed, what's left is an ignored piece of art.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Artist's Dance

The room was full of artist,
the abandoned and the lost,
and even the redundant,
all were out in force.

The mike blared bestiality,
brutality, divorce;
and even loves most precious gifts,
in angry flames were tossed.

The piercings and the black tattoos, 
strobe,  colored lights embraced,
the tracks of terror , tear-filled nights,
depressed upon each youths face.

Kohl black eyes in somber garb,  
with scars, scabbed on wrist and souls;
in drunken haze or drugged dazed phrase,
Their stories all are told.

In rivulets of cruel crimson,
their black boils are set to lance;
leaving pale pink pock marked placards
in memories of the Dance.

The room was full of artistsans
all their arms were opened wide;
their eyes where full of wonder
their hearts so filled with pride

A pride in giving of themselves,
pride in the taking too;
for if not for tortured artists
the world would not be so true.
art
Form: Rhyme


Letter To Kenyan Voter

I quit
I throw my hands down
and sit, sometimes

they called for reconciliation without
 justice
They called for justice without 
truth
Now they ask for prayer without
confession, umpteenth,
it chafes

 Has dishonesty made you inadequate  
to let go the desecration
infringement
negligence
graft
shame of these violations 
which bake violence?

Yet another fifth year
our memo calls us to speak

See how they dance
under a canopy of placards
and a forest of words,
a crescendo of noise,
call for peace without unity
hunger hugs not a belching belly
wretchedness forever at 
enmity with riches

Fellow man, 
the weight been 
long and heavy
Le band's gang led
they have a dance,
You got a date, a dicot
conscience, chagrin
It's about time you made 
love to your country!

Take a big deep
cast your ballot for
broken toe nails
parched throats
unattended sick
the illiterate
the young dead
wrinkled bellies 
and running stomachs

Bow not unto any creed,
tongue, but go forth
eyes closed
and spit into the storm
Puaaah!

DARKNESS

“It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt,
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills,
It comes first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.”
-J.R.R. Tolkien
_____________________________

Place of Redemption is Darkness
unpetalling - - solace space unfolding
I sail drowsy dim seas without boat 
or oars, conversing with walrus, whales 
treading liquid tar silent, unseen
in distance a dog barks as I empty 
bladder into ocean
underwater cables run fire

Darkness, Cloak of Protection
alchemy distilling gross, grime, goo
a thousand fingers unfelt sew broken 
pieces of Life, loosen hooks, nooses
Angels of  Death appear, wings 
midnight blue, gathering loose threads
snapped nerves, false cues
I hear a night ‘plane flying passion

Here Crow visits sea darkly shining 
untouching cast charming spells with 
silent cymbals, unscathed holds sound 
I covet cup of cold black coffee, unsmelt 
swarthy, spilling on night waters —
hiding eels, oysters find their feeds
blankets have no feel, weave 
unraveling, I perceive spindles

Coelacanth swim inquisitive incognito
individuated spirits shine poking 
examine my tired flesh, as velvet 
phantoms we attune to  F o r e v e r  
black cat runs sky, corrugated quarks 
shatter moon smiles, its rock tumbling 
rays on rippling nipples, navel upturned
circles spiral gene keys like piano notes

Place of Attunement is Darkness 
no stagnation or pothole sidles, earthling placards, test tubes or empathy labels
shimmering umbra behind stars fall 
dust upon midnight water smooth
gloom to-fro about unpaid karma
prison cell was scribbled with charcoal 
I shout my name, nobody hears or cares

Humming, droning, buzzing black 
holes beckon like blackboards with 
light language — I recognise Cosmic 
sound activating Heart, fall deeper into 
b l a c k o u t __>>>
alpha kisses omega as breath leaves
returning in baby gurgles upon a 
Bermuda Triangle ~ dog sniffs backyard 

Darkness ignites laughter untasted
observing I pay Tolkien tribute, tinkling 


___________________________________


GOLD Placement Poem : Allpoetry 
May 26 : Prompt : 
What may you find in Darkness | 
Confirm no AI
Third Placement: Premier 
Sponsor : Seth Pina : May : Your Favourite

Premium Member Showcase

City mall stroll,
Quaint shoppes and things;
Brisk on a roll,
Sales placards sing!


Shoppers cascade,
Bump, browse and look;
Fancy parades,
Clothes, food and books.


Hypermart queues,
Waiting in line;
Purchase on cue
Stuff to feel fine.


Tempting offers,
Nice stuff to get;
Do consider,
Cash your best bet!


Waltz here and there,
Love that and this;
Unneeded wares
Sum up the list.


Such pretty fares,
Stocks on display;
Showcase new cares,
Confront your sway.


Here as you walk,
Watch appetites
Pitch new self-talk;
Appeal and bite!


Watch noisy crowds
Congregate here;
Frenzy screams loud,
Store stocks to clear.


To buy or not,
The question comes;
Impulse and lot
Attend and sum!


Snatch a quick browse,
Search for bargains;
Needs and wants grouse,
Reason gets slain.


Be light of heart,
Seek not to buy
What impulse arts,
Heed  thrifty sigh.


So many things
You think you need;
Then in a fling,
An empty feed.


Just look around,
Beware of greed;
Just stand your ground,
Don't let cash bleed!


And if you must,
Discern and see
Goods that you trust
To help you be.


Go to the mall, 
Buy what you need;
Glide through each stall,
Don't feed your greed!


A prudent spend,
Cash and carry;
A lovely trend
Light and breezy.


Leon Enriquez
23 Feb 2014
Singapore
Form: Quatrain

Powerless and Proud

I tried to the stop the climate change
I tried to stop the war
I tried to stop addiction 
From my spot on the tavern floor
I used to fight the good fight
I don't do that anymore
'cause I'm powerless
And god dammit, I'm proud

I used to have opinions
That were of a certain ilk
My arguments, all polished
My reasoning, smooth as silk 
You can drink your quart of Kool-Aid
And call it chocolate milk –
Me I'm powerless, 
And God damnit, I'm proud 

We like to think
Like to think we know the score 
Screaming from our windows:
I won't take it anymore!
With the subtlety of billboards
And logic, bottom-drawer 
When deep inside, we know
We're full of bull at the core 

I saw placards, I heard slogans 
Spouting in the market square
In the exurb of a suburb 
Of affluent Montclair 
The banality of platitudes
Rises from one's derriere 
So be powerless 
And God damnit, be proud
Form: Verse

Premium Member One Against Many

One Against Many

Where a man has a principle,
                                and a bug in his head
Forms a view that no matter what,
                                           won’t go away
His heart will control 
                      every thought, every thread
He’ll not veer from his stand,
                                   by night nor by day


He will face up to those,
                             he believes to be wrong
He will speak from his corner
                                       and wave placards
Stand there his ground,
                             ever straight, ever strong
Opposing the tyrants,
                         their ways and their guards


When the furies are gathered
                                    to break like a storm
He will parry and fend
                           every threat that is thrown
His mind will not bend
                           by the weight of the scorn
But remember the giant
                            brought down by a stone


With no aim to destruct
                                    or words to impose
Just a flame in the darkness
                                   to shine there a light
Deep from the depths
                           where confusions shadows
May release, rise and soar
                                 newly imagined flight


When the voice fades away,
                              to deaths calling of time
The actions are measured,
                                   of those now set free
Who forged an alliance,
                                       stood there in line
To judge by the means,
                                              of hypocrisy


To the memory of Brian Haw
Form:

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