Long Plates Poems
Long Plates Poems. Below are the most popular long Plates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Plates poems by poem length and keyword.
In this time the cloth is unwoven, the threads laid bare.
Most of the dung removed, cleared, given no fare.
Massive steel plates hold back the uninvited from boarding the train.
Going and coming returning from far, how special the precious Saved Ones are!
Not as many by count, as expected to be, go only the accepted glorified in He.
The One by name Jesus Christ is He, by birth our Savior, God’s only Son.
The rapture has started transformation begun!
“Multitudes Missing” is what is said both of the living and of the dead.
Glory shone at the uniting above as Jesus ascended taking the Throne.
Angels and Saints at the table were there, celebrating the beginning
As promised by some, in the Book it is written the time has come.
To those uninvited still sinning below Tribulation unending they endure
Because death is not given for the unforgiven there is no cure.
Now that The Holy Spirit is gone replaced by the unholy one.
Three and one half years his reign will be before his anointment as
King of the land, then after another one half and three
From his throne he gathers his forces to make his stand.
In Jerusalem, after the Temple’s complete, is the place Armageddon has come.
Many the forces pressing the land foul and dirty sinners are they.
Angels from above sweet music they play, as their swords slash, many they slay.
The rest are all gathered sorted like sheep the wicked on the left and thrown into the deep
Where welcomed by him unholy for sure cured not forever burning in hell.
Be it certain, known for sure, Jesus has returned all hail the King.
For a thousand years he will reign all living forever no sickness or pain.
He is my God the only pure one born of a mortal, Spirit raised, God’s Son.
On the cross our sin debt He paid glory forever so easily gained
Not by good works impossible to do only in accepting as Savior, our Lord, King.
In living and doing such a small little thing why do so many risk certain despair?
Is it that we tangled in our lives, mundane as they are, have little care
For those less willing the truth to be know spread the message they must be shown!
Think now of forever the price they bear become an ambassador in Jesus’ name!
Hot is the pit with its flame burning bright engulfing a loved one what a terrible sight.
The time is at hand the cloth becoming bare; Jesus is the answer show you dare.
In Nineteen ninety-six, our son and wife, Majors
In US Army, moved to Izmir, their new base.
As usual, whatever place they were assigned,
We flew to visit them as well as dear grandkids.
So off we went to spend two weeks in Turkey, this
Outstanding country we had never been before.
So much to see at Ephesus—Metropolis
Of Antique Age; The Stadium, the Harbor Bath,
Basilica, the Marble Road, Heracles Gate—
All ruins now. Were sad to see these wondrous works
Of art and architecture now in disarray
And strewn about on fields on which they proudly stood.
Of varied striking sites in Pergamon, we saw
The City Walls, the Aqueducts, Acropolis,
The Temple Dionysus, that of Trajan too.
So many ages, periods had ruled this place,
Artistic wonders, structures turned to ruins—works
Of Persian, Greek, Roman and more, in pieces lay.
Besides the many ancient ruins visited,
We were amazed that many locals spoke our tongue.
They did their best to make us feel so much at ease,
Were gracious in combined Mid-Eastern/Euro style
Of hospitality and types of food they ate
And served, like cheese, tomatoes, olives of all kinds.
Izmir, a city mixed with culture old and new,
Like modern shops and open markets, outdoor stands
With fish and meats on ice, yet weighed on modern scales.
And women with fine bread on plates held up on heads,
Who walked the streets in morning, dressed in peasant garb;
Yet working business women wore more modern dress.
We ventured to the famous city, Istanbul,
Surprised to see the many high-rise buildings there,
And streets so overcrowded with their vehicles;
Large offices and business centers everywhere—
Ladies with fashion boots, purses and western dress;
Big contrast with those living back in country hills.
Such history surrounds this ancient, distant land;
So many varied cultures ruled their sacred world.
Museums filled with artifacts from centuries,
Safeguarded and in view to honor and behold.
This trip shall always hold such special, vivid thoughts
For us to cherish and remember for all time.
Of course, this one-time trip was many years ago;
We're happy we had ventured then instead of now,
For times have changed; such unrest grows within our world.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Memorable Vacations
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: May 8, 2015
Iambic Hexameter
missing dog, Blackie. Besides the sound of our voices, the hymns playing softly in the
background, the noise made by the porcelain plates as Mama wiped and put them
away, the humming of the refrigerator’s motor, the house was quiet. No body knew
what had happened to Blackie. We were really concerned about the whereabouts
of the dog, even though Papa had assured us that he would return at some point.
Since the funeral, he had vanished. Even the old man who lived across the street
from us and who loved Blackie, had not seen him, nor had any of the other
neighbors. We had searched in all the usual places. He had never run away from
home before. As far as I remember, Blackie never did come back home.
As Papa sat in his usual chair, quietly playing with the food on his plate, the kitchen
door opened, and in walked Thomas, Brian’s best friend. They were the same age,
and were very close even though they did not attend the same school, or the same
church. The two had become friends since they met at a Junior Boys Scouts meeting
at the age of seven. Thomas lived some distance away but they maintained a
special friendship. Out of school, wherever Brian was, so Thomas would be. They’d
both turned fourteen last September. Throughout those years they still were active
members of the Boys Scout, and had risen together in rank. Thomas had been away
on the recent Scouting trip. They had traveled to a neighboring country for a Scouts’
Jamboree. Brian should have gone too but something to do with school exams came
up so he couldn’t go. Thomas had just returned from the Jamboree that Saturday
afternoon, the second week after Brian’s burial. Lena, Reggie and I got out of
our chairs and ran to greet him. It was like welcoming him and Brian home as the
two were always together. He picked Lena up as he greeted our parents. Mama
standing at the sink, turned around, took one look at him and walked briskly, almost
running out of the kitchen, with my other sister in tow.
Papa greeted Thomas, his voice almost inaudible. Thomas looked puzzled. I guess
he thought he had walked in during a family argument. He was about to turn back
and walk out because he felt a little intrusive, I guess. It was extremely quiet in the
room; very unusual when everyone was in Mama’s kitchen at the same time. And
Mama, walking
From sagging huts up in the hills,
We watched the tourists flash their bills.
They piled our harvest on their plates,
While soup and scraps were all we ate.
The flames lick up from garbage cans,
Burnt brown like every working man,
Who shouts or sings or mutters low
Of the calluses that come and go.
They toss in straw, more flames shoot up
To light the faces, hewn and rough,
that need a creed, some faith to hold;
to make their insides proud and bold.
Right then and there, I stand to speak.
I will not play the lamb so meek.
The time has come to take back ours
from the wealthy dogs with fat cigars.
First cans, then cars, we overturn.
Now the boulevard begins to burn..
The fools shoot back, forget the cost,
The naked rage must not be lost.
We win ourselves some new recruits,
Some young; some old; some simply brutes;
I do not care where they heard the call.
The revolution now will need them all.
Our cause will die if all stays calm,
So I send out Juan with sweaty palms.
He won't come back, farewell, my friend.
Your blood will flow for greater ends.
Worn out, weary, our morale grows thin.
The feeling grows that we can not win.
We need more guns than we can steal,
But we do have one crop we can deal.
The rifles have arrived now. Good!
Excited now, they crack the wood.
My loathing of red, white and blue,
is spreading like the jungle flu.
Their army scatters, their leaders flee.
We've brought the country to it's knees.
With the capitol dead in our sights,
We'll soon assert the people's rights.
The grainy film does not portray
That it was a picture perfect day.
My second stands there, smart and trim.
It might pay to keep an eye on him.
We march them out in single file.
No need to bother with a trial.
Their baggy shirts and peasant lies
Betray them all as filthy spies.
Yes, the people had decreed this so,
I speak for them so I should know.
Your crimes have brought you here to die.
The people speak through me. Goodbye!
Their bodies jump in crimson leaps,
then tumble down in tangled heaps.
Scarlet skulls and splintered chests,
They'll surely air this in the West.
Bulldoze the bones and spread the lime,
For we all are on the side of time.
And tonight, we gather in the square.
Their blood has paid my ruling fare.
In this evening, I wear the perfect smile, and,
you’ll quake, in the wake of my guile
Cause I’m the best liar you’ll ever meet,
Because, In a way, I swear, I’d mean it
Not, to say that I believe it, but
The intention’s there all the same
This is my confession, my admission of guilt.
Because, it’s upon good intentions, that the road to hell is built
I’m always working toward my goals, and my dreams
But, in self observation, I'm beginning to question my means
As of late, been having a lot of trouble, maintaining the tension in the telegraph lines
And for that reason, the deserving will have no honorable mention
For these wires that run from ear to ear
have been in disrepair, for the best part of the last year
And, this is my apology, as well as, a desperate plea
Because, in reality, I’m in need, of someone that can save me,
Someone to be the monkey on my back
And one who possesses all that I lack
Someone who could, with words deify the drying of paint
And, since patience is a virtue, my girl will have to be a saint
Someone who bear with me, when I beg her to stay
and then push her away
Endearingly Awkward, is all I want to be
The martyr, with out the fee
But, the apprehension in me, doth decree
My title has the need for a higher degree
of precision, and simplicity
And, In fear’s wake, I’m brought to my knees
And, despite my hearts desperate plea,
I comply, and then cease to be,
Until, love breathes her life into me
I feel poison coursing through my logic
And capitulation that could be considered tragic
I’m growing weary, of this battle,
In which my ambitions are roped like cattle,
And slaughtered, just to end up filling the bowls and plates
Of, fear, my sworn enemy, the one I’ll never cease to hate
Considered jaded by some, and boring to most
I feel the part of the silhouette, or the ghost
But, in all honesty
I am, in a word, broken.
I don’t know, I cant even begin
To tell the difference between ecstasy and agony,
Or know what to say, when asked about my identity.
in the evening, behind this perfect smile, at my fork in the road,
contemplating left, or right, and carrying a hell of a load, .
I put faith in a coin toss,
Not knowing which led to love, and which to loss,
caught in clenched fist,
And slapped down on bare wrist,
for an instant, i wonder
if this Is reprobation?
Or some road, leading to my vindication?
Family love is born in little rooms,
around sofas, settees, dinner plates,
with paternal bond that strengthens and grooms,
unswerving link that lasts till heaven’s gates!
We were such family in a French town,
traditional, true, religious us four,
mother was good at making wedding gowns,
father a decorator ran paint store!
Sister and I watched German troops on streets,
Tuesday August year nineteen forty three,
parents held us close, could hear their heartbeat,
that was the last day we would all be free!
Dragged on to street by the Nazi soldiers,
our father was punched kicked and beaten blue,
we wept helpless, clung to mother’s shoulders,
that was the last of our father we knew!
Pulled away from mother and Sis I cried,
screaming imploring, no mercy, no heart,
that day for me when humanity died,
was day my family was torn apart!
Packed in a train suffocating with stench,
alone defeated waited journey’s end,
with dead and dying that made stomach wrench,
four days of thirst and suffering to spend.
I remember that train to Auschwitz well,
journey that destroyed many lives like mine,
where our love and hope to tyranny fell,
to death we were paraded in a line!
Six months past we heard exchange of fire,
that made evil enemy pack and run,
We were all rescued from behind barbed wire,
was still hope and goodness under the Sun!
When God smiles he smiles generously well,
lifts suffering souls from bottomless pit,
That day he was smiling we could all tell,
his eyes perhaps gleaming and face well lit!
Each life and hope with dignity restored,
we were treated, bathed clothed and given food,
In room of people saw face I adored,
sobbing with outstretched arms my mother stood!
United with mother back to my house,
and years of togetherness we would share,
on the wall hangs our striped prisoner blouse,
to tell trappings of hatred and its snare!
The train to Auschwitz took many to death,
guilt ridden, to and fro ran that train,
but tracks remain, hate may creep back in stealth!
train to Auschwitz should never run again!
Premier contest 6th placement
Written 09/April/2021
10 syllables each line (PS syllable count)
based on a true story as related by a 93 yr old Auschwitz survivor
The last train to Auschwitz poetry competition
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
Back in my day shell suits were the latest fashion
And I made sure I wore my diamond socks with a passion
The only sky I knew was the one up above my head
No dvd player, just a betamax had to do instead
The only laptop I knew was the tray my dinner was served in
No sat nat to direct us, just maps and a lot of guessing
My social network involved playing outdoors with my friends
If I had an important message there was no text for me to send
Instead I would simply go and knock on the door
And enjoy a good game of hopscotch, drawn neatly on the floor
If I wanted to listen to music I held my boom box to my ear
And I felt like a millionaire in my latest pair of L.A Gear
No ipod to shuffle or touch just my sony walkman
No google to look for answers, just the library to depend on
No Ipad, no playbook, just a good old storybook
It may even be in hardback if I had any luck
No freeview, no Virgin, I was lucky to even have colour tv
And a rubiks cube would suffice, never mind an XBOX 360
It was all about hammer time and wearing those pants
And the theme tune to Fraggle Rock I would happily chant
No cyber bullying, only cyber I knew was the tamagocchi pet
No loading plates into the dishwasher as it hadn't been invented yet
No cd player, my cassettes were the in thing
And to have a sovereign ring on every finger meant you had some bling
The A Team, crossroads, tiswas and happy days was the programmes I watched
No series links or reminders to watch programmes like Lost
No rewinding the tv or pausing whilst I nip to the loo
Instead I had to ask someone and hope that they have a clue
No Adidas for me, just my trusted bum bag
My girls world doll and scrunche's were things I just had to have
In my day the only kid I wanted was a cabbage patch kid
Not a real one so that in a hostel I can live
No PS3, no Wii, no Vita or Nintendo DS 3d
Just my good old NES on my four channel tv
Care bears, the moomins, playschool and dangermouse
No crimewatch to make me afraid to be in my house
In my days if I was rude I would get a good smack
And I couldn't dare say the clothes you just bought me were whack
No microwave dinners, No chinese takeaway for me
Saturday soup was the best, one big bowl balancing on your knee
The 80's and the 90's I enjoyed it while it did last
But every now and again I take a glimpse of the past
I write like bakers bake
my rhymes make earth shake
Going into contest with me was your biggest mistake
I control the earths plates, tectonics, your rhymes are bollocks
I cause land slides and earthquakes
I don't hate but I do devastate,
Is the rhythm of your rhyme hidden?
I'm going back and forth with my decision
I'd like to think it's something I'm missin'
but I cant see it in what you've written,
You stagnate rhymes
I contemplate the punishment for these crimes,
don't harp that you'll defeat me
I'm a giant you can't even see me
Now back and forth like red and meth I hand you over to little missy,
you pissed us both off so we share a rhyme to make you look silly..........
Your rhymes don't even matter
my pockets is gettin' fatter
Yours getting flatter
When you heard the glass shatter
That means me and my homies gathered
Now you bout to feel the wrath of
Somethin' that you wished you hadn't of
And all I can say is back up because I'm bout to act up
It might not concern you but
I'll thermonuclear burn you, you're a human sacrifice
Cuz I be smashing mics with the Passion of Christ and
Stay fully loaded, equipped with action devices
Me n trim shady here to party like Tom Brady
We stay cooler than an Eskimo baby
V is for Victory, we mastered your trickery
Tryna clock like dickory, get smoked like hickory
So please stop the bickery, you can't get rid of me
Fire colabs from here to infinity
you heard her infinity
even with a radar and map you cant find our reality
we're in another galaxy
you've barely the ability of a fetus
how dare you compete with us
and this U S U K special relationship isn't putting you at a handicap
it's natures act, you can't rhyme or rap
put your dick between your legs and make a tail
walk away with your head down cus your insults fail,
the only insult that landed is that you went up against us
with terrible stale dribble
that you squiggle
all brainless and minimal
like an unevolved mammal
writing without the opposable thumb by miracle
sounding dumb and undesirable,
when I read it I became miserable,
I desire a quick fire high flyer
like me with quick wit that aspires but you were dire
and dim, you aint no Trim,
you're a fool who should return to school.
collaboration with Brenda Chiri
first and third Trim
second Brenda
DEAR SANTA, LET ME EXPLAIN
Dear Santa Claus, way up in the North Pole
Please, at least give me a chance to explain!
How was I supposed to know Dad’s remote control
Would get crushed when run over by a toy train?
I am not as naughty a boy as you might think,
I’m not a bad kid, I am not as bad as all that,
Who knew paint should not be poured down the sink?
Or that you should never try to shave the cat.
No matter what stories you might have heard,
I can be pretty darn good when I give it a try.
The cat will never again be stuffed in the cage with the bird,
Or slingshot to see if he can be taught how to fly.
I eat all of mom’s cooking, no matter how bad
I do my best to clean up my plate.
Only once did I hide the car keys in the freezer on Dad
The line I walk is narrow and straight.
I am sorry about the window, it was an accident
I was just playing ball with my friends.
I will pay for the glass, one hundred percent
And do whatever I can to make amends.
I am sure that Grandma has forgotten about those plates
She has forgotten about almost every other thing.
And I never bring her frogs or the snakes she hates
I have not muddied her carpets since Spring.
And about my kid sister, her hair will grow back,
Dad said she looked cuter than cute.
I think the rug in my room looks better in black
And Grandpa already replaced his gray suit.
So give me a break, Santa, I’m trying real hard,
It’s not easy keeping grownups happy, you see.
Maybe pirates really did bury treasure in our yard,
If I had found it, they would be happy, I guarantee.
So maybe sometimes I get in trouble when I get into a fight
Maybe sometimes I have to clap erasers after school,
I’m just full of energy, holding me down is not right
So what if I don’t follow their stupid rules
That rat Benny B., he had it coming, St. Nick,
He has been giving me guff for a week
He is a bully and a punk and he just makes me sick
With his nonstop tormentor’s mean streak.
You are Santa, you know the truth, I am really OK
I’m not a bad kid all of the time,
Just please bring me Christmas, I’ll do whatever you say,
I will even stop writing in rhyme.
Just one more thing Santa, and I hope you don’t mind
I really want to spread holiday cheer,
So if your list falls a little bit behind,
Please cut me a little slack for next year.
Triumph
Frank Halliwell
In silence, in the velvet night,
lit by pinpoints of vivid light,
I wander blindly to the south,
immersed in frigid seas.
My age is lost in time's shadows,
..in aeons of primeval snows,
Borne from the Greenland glacier fields,
far from the warm land breeze.
My drift; by currents is maintained;
my course; by fate is preordained,
Before midnight I drift inside..
the busy shipping tracks.
A lookout spots me in the dark,
a radio transmits the spark.
I am reported to the world
and cautious souls react.
But from the east this winter night,
a black colossus steams in sight,
Racing to the west despite
the danger waiting there!
Her goal is shipping dominance,
her high speed fueled by arrogance,
Before the night is over,
the result will be despair.
I wait, and I feel no remorse,
in spite of the collision course,
For I am just a passive player
in this deadly play.
They've seen me now, but much too late,
and there is no escaping fate,
A glancing blow is struck and leaves
her plates in disarray!
My mass absorbs the mighty shock;
my body solid as bedrock.
I shatter not, nor tremble
as the ship glances away.
The icy water rushes in,
filling compartments to the brim.
Fifteen hundred doomed to die
seek refuge in dismay!
But there is none; nowhere to go,
the frigid water is the foe!
The ship is listing badly now;
the end is near at hand!
Lifeboats are lowered with all speed,
but are too few to fill the need.
'Nearer my God to Thee' is heard,
played by the doomed ship's band..
The stern rises above the waves,
then plunges to her watery grave,
A plume of air and flotsam mark
the place of her long dive.
Water too cold to sustain life,
kills them as surely as a knife,
And in a mere ten minutes
none of them are left alive!
The cries and shouts and prayers have ceased,
the sea returns to lonely peace.
The engineering triumph rests
among the crabs and snails.
The news is spread around the world
and flags at half-mast are unfurled,
Fifteen hundred families
are left to weep and wail.
In silence, in the velvet night,
lit by pinpoints of vivid light
I wander blindly to the south
immersed in frigid seas.
My age is lost in time's shadows,
..in aeons of primeval snows,
Borne from the Greenland glacier fields,
far from the warm land breeze.
>>> Titanic is gone.
***