Long Platform Poems
Long Platform Poems. Below are the most popular long Platform by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Platform poems by poem length and keyword.
Is there something in the water or air
that's spreading stupidity everywhere?
Children aren't learning their lessons in school,
vying to be the latest TikTok fool.
As a whole, society's devolving:
a worldwide problem, in need of solving.
It seems everyone is glued to their phones:
no individualism; we're mere clones.
The internet has morphed into a cage,
where stifled minds stagnate and disengage.
Hate and bigotry have gained a platform:
outrageous behavior is now the norm.
We're losing our ability to think
for it's much easier to interlink.
We're banning books, and we're ok with that:
letting the net filter what we look at.
If stupidity's something we can't fix:
try throwing common sense into the mix.
There is something wrong with people today:
AI does their thinking; what can I say?
Understanding your own culture
Formulates respect of other people's culture
Are you hearing me
In order to understand other people's culture
You must understand yours first
The peacefulness of your soul
Achieves the impossible
Be ground in your belief
The Understanding of your dreams
Creates a platform of performance
The world is yours to explore
The uniqueness of the mind set
Constructs future achievements
Landmark has been written
In your name
Undermining someone's culture
Is like undermining yours
Where as imperfections are there
That is God's creation
Who are you to judge
You are my rock, The shelter of
my heart, The house that builds
me, on this white pearly, golden,
platform, with our father,
The Almighty, You are
the seed, planting me, In A
garden of full bloom, beyond
the growth of A flower, You are
my blanket, Of Southern
Comfort, That kept me warm,
Without you there's "NO
MEANING," to my LOVE, I
thank GOD, the day He put you
on this EARTH, and MADE you
MINE, My Baby you are that
precious gem, In my eyes, I
gleam shinning,TRUTH N' HONESY,
Never To Loose Sight,Never To
Make You Mad,or Never To Make
You Angry,Never To Make You Cry,
Never To Break Your Heart,
Never To Abuse, Nor Neglect,
You......
I only want to give, You A
GENUINE LIFE, AS YOUR WIFE,
AS YOU MY HUSBAND,
as we go hand n' hand to
begin, This conquest journey,
against the burning sun, to the
ends of the moon, "YES," we
will struggle, Even fight like,
The cats n' dogs, but what
relationship doesn't, it will only
make us stronger, or it may
even break us, but as we strive
to our best, forth each
other, To bond our passion,
in wed-lock,,,,,
Because loving you,
makes it all worth the wild
against the sand... I love you,
My Baby!!!
At the dextrous flick of a pliant switch,
or some hue laden buoyant platform,
building sturdy grey grain bridges,
thin veil barren vacuum putative,
in a distant introverted wingspan,
yearning heart at the kernel of a handset,
shrink-wrap diaspora our intrinsic zeitgeist,
contact list on three dimension video,
in situ variegated infinite topic,
profound menu of cerebral dichotomy,
intimate engagement squeezes firm,
the lachrymose event within,
cognisant of prying web snoop,
on screen shadow world doubter,
secret anguish at forlorn tap,
proxy palm of hand palliative,
fingers jitter in composition panel,
pathos rapt in emoji display font,
deep ink well wiki tiered option link,
faint blue highlight access patch,
to master virtual mind concepts,
Jack-O-Lantern vapour a viral mask,
bogus face to face enchantment?
facile glib judgement I’d eschew,
labyrinthine waylay self-induced,
broad deep life question digital,
pop up connoisseur glossary,
perception at the press of a button,
in the eyes of the shrill yet genuine flock,
plus and minus fact sheet,
an overtopping wavelength,
how impoverished and lonely,
our dialogue would be,
this world would sink into,
even graver crass detachment,
without the many, many positives,
our smart devices regularly bring
Today I write for the women, of the Poetry Soup.
Tuesday’s poem of the day was more like bigotry goop.
More hate was spit out by an imbecile’s rant.
I would love to shut your mouth, you’re just lucky I can’t.
Your words aren’t appreciated nor will they ever be.
You don’t speak like a real man a coward is what I see.
Why would you attack women? That’s just pathetic and weak.
Would your mother approve of the words that you speak?
You’re entitled to your opinion as I am to mine.
But bring your hate to this platform and I’ll speak up every time.
A woman gave you life and wiped your worthless rear.
Mothers do a lion’s share of the work, not you my dear.
You need to reboot and think before you boast.
You show your intelligence by the words that you post.
I’m sorry dear ladies you don’t deserve any more pain.
You have my love and respect, no matter what this fool claims.
Fantasy train
It’s night. Central London, the last subway train left Bond Street station.
The train was speeding along with me and a few other passengers.
A so powerful dream in a wonderful fantasy realm took hold of me.
My vigilance and self-control left me. Just sleep and sleep, and dream.
Wonderful landscapes, worlds, women, and intoxicants caused joy in the dream.
I feel a strong twitch and hear a loud shout.’ Sir! This is the last station!’
I woke up. An empty whiskey bottle fell out of my hand and rolled on the floor.
‘Were are we?’ I asked. ‘On Harrow and Wealdstone station.’ Came the answer.
‘From which platform can I go back?’ I asked. ‘From platform two at five o’clock.
It's one o’clock. Night. I bought a bottle of whiskey in a shop. Drink and just drink.
As soon as I lay down on an old bench in the street, I immediately found myself on the train.
On the train again. I continued my dream. Incredible visions, delights, I just live here.
Just here. Only here. Forever. I didn’t wake up anymore. A hearse took me away.
When I say things like my mom did
When she was eighty years old
“He's so handsome, I can't believe MY EARS”
It's time for a home I'm told!
The train's already left the station no doubt
You're left there standing on the platform
Before you cash in your chips as they say
Someone feeding you will be the norm
Little things like forgetting your choppers
Or getting on the bus without pants
People snickering behind your back
As down the crowded aisle you prance
Some things are a little unusual they say
Like communicating with the birdies
In a language only you and they understand
Or when with a mannequin you get flirty
Wish me luck on the last leg of my journey
Had a blast without any regrets
Sure couldn't have asked for anything better
My life's been as good as it gets!
Tim is a thinker and operates within the logic of his brain
Reasonable thoughts solutions imperative webs rule
and divide analyses paradigms and guidance from hell
He googles and ogles centrifugal dispersion displayed
on the smoke screen of distracting internet searches
A seeker he is however the computer can think but not feel
He had encountered Dialectical Behaviour Therapy
with the message of emotions complementing his
cognitive certainties meant to assemble the wise mind
Zen it must be then but even the information highway
takes him to Zen Mate a platform for hyperspace security
He can’t even delete it once installed hook line and sinker
Zen Zero Engagement with Nonsense obfuscates imminent truth
looms large as he decides to simply be under a luscious fig tree
An orange loin cloth covers his modesty as he attempts humility
Yet meditation still takes him far away from Gautama Siddhartha
to associations of Gauntanamo Bay Cuba and Alejandro Fidel Castro
but what has Tao got to do with it anyway what about Mao Zedong
Tim’s soul drifts away from internal Peace he is not yet cut out
for relaxation and confuses and corrupts to settle in Nirvana
His begging bowl calls for saffron delight without caviar’s caveats
Descartes shouts 'Carpe Diem' Marx wants knowledge with action
Nietzsche implies Zarathustra but golden ‘zarat’ remains fool’s gold
and ‘ushtra’ the camel does not fit through the third inner eye
Why cannot simplicity be more simple when the here and now
drifts away towards where and when as Tim tries to capture
letting go and let God while enlightenment is clothed in darkness
Tim’s Nike trainers suggest he can do it and Greek philosophy
reminds him ‘Hic Rhodos Hic Salta’ to jump here and not anywhere
else but leaps and bounds refuse to reach outcome detachment
One day he dreams that he might reach what is so close but obscured
for now sandalwood fragrances incense his inabilities to achieve
the essential meaning of life without target driven performance
Who is in the room?
Who owns the room?
When the GreenWoke Tribe
evaluate their strategic platform
for conquering RedUnWoke DiaTribes
what politically scientific purpose
and/or psychotherapeutic intent
for healthy inclusive democracy
[and not merely more wealthy
StraightWhiteMale corporate kleptocracy]
may wake up and win/win thrive?
Not so stuck on playing win/lose
monopoly games
preferred by monotheistic
anthrosupremacists,
privileged competitions
for recreating monocultural bullies
and sacrilegious
sanctimonious
green or red politically correct
dogmatic unwoke bosses
Judiciously proclaiming discrete
separate but equally undamaged
deceit
In resonant baritones
repeat unenlightened bass base
repeat disempowering soprano space
repeat replete
unwoken
still broken
repeat...
Who is behind the broom?
When GreenWoke evaluators
reconsider healthy
co-passionately wealthy
sweeping democratic invoked potential
Integrity to grow more
bilaterally healthy
bipartisan support
for woke up wealthy.
Woke
could send out evaluation forms
to every registered UnWoke
and this might explore half our hoped for story
of how empowerment
and enlightenment have grown/groaned
through last year's sentient
yet often somnolent
competitions in stuck down government.
But, growing trust
more than mistrust,
woke truth
more than unwoke half-truths
together show and tell,
as all UnWoke know too well,
bipartisan passions
co-invest tax-payers
and health therapeutic players
preferring to synergetically swell
rather than not tell
quietly fell apart
stuck in competitive squabbling
hell.
I had laid foundation for this moment.
But who I wonder, might be listening?
The deftly fashioned phrases I had planned,
now tumble into mismatched tiles
of scrambled words, from scrabble's hand
spilling garble out of hand!
Now, this is news you may refuse
But let me tell you: HOW NOT TO ARGUE!
Yes! Wrestle, woo with words, I will!
I spill opinions, and take a stand!
Will he fall and say “Yes dear,”
while my stunning words appear
taking hold the upper hand?
Darn it!, much against my will,
emotional blubber, my tears will well!
My calm approach, and swift attack,
falls apart, WHAT'S UP WITH THAT?? !!
My soapbox, platform, for two left feet,
will crumble with my shamed defeat!
My five alarm fire, starts with a blaze,
too soon becomes a fading haze !
Just gol-darn smoke gets in his face!
Gibberish, senseless words out loud,
once proud embers, sound absurd!
Can't I once, get THE LAST WORD??
The surging tide, a frothy ripple,
makes him giggle, never grovel!
Pleasure gleams in both his eyes,
This drama queen just wants to die!
Dang it, I can never win
He folds his arms, and sports a grin!
Better end this bitter novel......
Let me dig, with my own shovel !!
______________________
For Verlena's Slam Contest...Round 2