Long Playing field Poems
Long Playing field Poems. Below are the most popular long Playing field by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Playing field poems by poem length and keyword.
Ofttimes yours truly assiduously tries to adlib,
but blubbers like a landlubber
at sea treading water donned with bib
(that doubles as yellow
spongy bobbing life jacket)
furiously doing doggy paddle
riding the next tidal wave
hoop fully washing me ashore to crib
if need be to dig an underwater channel
painstakingly slow drabs and drib.
The English language I simply adore
though offtimes methinks waxing eloquent
affects listeners as yours truly a bore
in record time flapping waxed lips
beholds one gordian
tongue tied knot major chore,
whereby I wanna bolt out figurative door
feeling deplorable and stuck
analogous to Eeyore.
Ache 'n to launch into a monologue
or chime into ongoing dialogue
me noggin off times generates brain fog
mental state mimicking one,
who quaffed an over abundance of grog,
which for this teetotaler would constitute
a mere thimble full of drink,
perhaps rum enhanced eggnog
just one sip and boing I go
topsy turvy as if a felled log
hit me over the head
rendering me unconscious.
Thus wood explain mine altered state
though unsightly gash on pate
battle scar leveled playing field
with the missus, 't other significant primate
supplementing and complementing
one aging long haired
pencil (vane ya) necked geek
being caged, yet free
to roam within human zoo
both, (née all) of us captive
on carousel of time
nsync with every other *****sapien
begot to participate in circle game.
All superfluous joking aside,
I strive to groom conversation,
whereby uninterrupted flow of words
(versus fumfering, hemming, hawing,
stammering, stuttering...), thine
general oral feedback paradigmatic guide
ever diligent to think
before I speak with pride
else I heep discourtesy
upon myself and chide
yours truly with harsh rebukes,
which maybe tantamount
going off the mountainside
plummeting into the abyss
engenders an unpleasant
metaphoric roller coaster ride,
and if crash test dummy doth survive -
upon gibbet he will be tried
punishment broadcast world wide
for flagrant horrendous verbal
egregiousness (waywardness) he belied.
Oh sweet perfumed branches of winter will
Upon this rock I lay my hankering and my spirit is still
I have borne the pain of winter shame
And walked with dignitaries in vain
chasing after the unknown wandering over hills and valley
but somewhere in the deep gravity got a whole of me
and forces me to speak, the heaven is wetting the clouds
and the melodies are choking the deities in the skies
But something profound will shake the heart of the town
and birds and beast shall be free and the universe will walk with thee
Months and years have passed and the journey continues to last
I have trod the hallways on broken knees and resisted temptation
but my faith kept me going when the moisture dried out of the air and I start breathing hot air,
shall I continue to comfort thee when you have fill the air with
intense anxiety and misery
Anxious minds have come alive waiting for your courage to die
But the university is standing with a made shift stretcher and lots of officers that have crossed over
I have been contemplation the symbol all day for the missing link and the point where destiny begins.
From whence did this agony come when I won the prize before winter began
The universe is frowning with thee
for what you did to my friends and family
It is the rage that is following thee
That ignite the fire before thee
all I ever hope for is a level playing field
With bats and gloves and the satellite shining above
Listen when my hunches speak there is truth in every word
And they are deep
Listen when my intuition speak and take action before you go to sleep
The Constitution states that Americans have the right to bear arms
Yet it doesn't specifically mention guns which have caused so much harm
I believe guns should be eradicated and tasers or stunners put in their place
The type of arms which don't have the ability to wipe out the human race
And to those who worship guns I hope they will finally see
That guns don't give anyone a status of superiority
And if you desire to go out to hunt use an arrow and bow
Even the playing field with the prey you want to take down low
The right to bear arms which can be any weapon that one can use in defense
A knife, a bat or even sword doesn't that make more sense?
And as long as we allow guns to remain in peoples hands
Mass killings will keep happening in this nation on which we stand
I COULDN’T TALK ABOUT IT SO I WROTE A POEM
For months I had worshipped her;
But only from afar.
A girl with that star-quality
Would not look twice at me.
I’d watched her across the classroom
And on the playing field.
More that once I had almost approached her
But couldn’t bring myself to speak.
I would only have blushed and stammered.
And then came inspiration.
I would write her a poem.
I thought of writing a sonnet.
That’s a romantic form.
But that would have called for rhyming
And rhyming can get in the way.
Of what you are trying to say.
And, anyway, the rhymes for ‘love’
And ‘desire’ and ‘heart’ and ‘soul’
Had been used a million times before.
So I opted for free verse.
I would just say it as it was.
The opening line was corny, I confess,
“There is a girl,” I wrote,
“Who makes my every day worthwhile.”
And then I extolled her virtues.
Her flaming, chestnut hair,
Gently caressing her neck.
Her startling hazel eyes
That sparkled every time she smiled.
The gaiety of her laughter.
I didn’t mention her shapely legs,
The swing of her hips,
Or her burgeoning bosom.
Not at this stage.
That might have given her the wrong idea.
Rounding off with a hint of my hopes,
I slipped it into her school bag
At the end of the day.
The next morning she met me
At the school gate, poem in hand.
She was very touched, she said,
And flattered too.
But, if I wanted to win her love,
I would have to work harder.
My poem was fine as far as it went.
But it didn’t even rhyme!
I was caught in a triangle were four hearts were broken.
Two were being played but four took cupids tokens.
Two were speaking in secret while the others tried to hold true,
both on opposite ends of the playing field who didn't have a clue.
Our hearts ached and beat away from each desired direction.
Thinking of our loved ones where we found our true affections.
"I hope you find happiness" and "I hate you" being slurred.
"I don't ever want to see you" and "I hope you die" were her painful piercing words.
Somehow love found it's way, kindled and reunited.
with blissful joy and happiness that four so delighted.
Operant conditioning assisted us in seeing the path,
back to each original love, the love that will last.
Gambling with WWIII
Let Putin feel the power
Of the USA poker face
Invite Ukraine to the table
Stack the chips up high
Welcome their citizens
With open arms
We already send them weapons
We already send them aid
They're already a Democracy!
Let's add them to our flag
With a Star worth more than money
Worth more than fame
You've forced our hand
Let's plan to create a new US border
You won't mind if we're your neighbor
War is not a game with
Toy soldiers, greed, and the need
To level out the playing field
Stop Russia' s own manifestation
Of mind-boggling pretentiousness
Watch out Putin, here we come ...
The 51st state: Ukraine!
Akin twin invisible presence coaxing...paranormal
Action across ouija board
herald Faustian bargain
as fingers of left hand appear to move
planchette of their own accord...
inexplicably, silently, and verily
along a barely traceable minuscule chord
dance, with some spatial force
from outer limits, perhaps dimension unexplored
twilight zone, (where spirit of Rod Serling dwells)
horizontally, linearly, and peculiarly unmoored
hashtagging, kickstarting, and zigzagging
while just barely hoovering
with maybe a hair breath of space to afford
between alien world and terrestrial
plain playing field, when oh my lord...
(this premature ejeculation from an atheist sword
like cross my heart and hope
to die a martyrs death), thee paranormal
shenanigans witness movement toward,
and away from death still participants mouths agape
with bated breath until last letter scored
which message... uh...ah...cannot be revealed
yeah...yeah...yeah...due to HIPAA laws...
...Without explanation,
there gets heard clangorous din
along with whooshes of ice cold air
brushing against my chin
analogous to some unseen
genie i.e. and/or jinn freed
from the lantern by Aladdin,
then,...how odd...
a deathlike stillness one could hear a pin
drop pervades painfully quiet
as if sound got vacuumed in
to a void of parallel universe...
...Though I don't dabble in black magic,
nor nothing linkedin with the occult,
yours truly titled poem
to "grab" attention fast as Usain Bolt,
he dashes off runners block
blinding earth shattering jolt
faster than speeding bullet,
a praiseworthy athlete
with no win tent to insult,
but merely chose his name out of thin air
(in accordance with abracadabra)
and flimsy rhyme that did result...
But, aye beg (bribe
with wealth of Midas)...please
believe me you, this rather cheese
zee poetic endeavor got
wrought eyes wide shut
(for all intents and purposes eyes closed),
where gentle force did cease
phalanges asthma southern paw
of righteous honest to dog
gone guy with pennywise
and pound foolish sixth cents sees
dead people as like miniature floaters
(in my eyes with ease)
poised and struck unbeknownst to me
computer laptop black keys!
All my older poems called a meeting
They don't like what they're seeing
As the newer poems are being read they're being left behind
At one time they we're top dogs
Now just another bump on the log
They want to do something about it and feel now is the time
So they started every now and then
Throwing one of their old friends in
With the pile of newbies to try and even out the playing field
Which has the new poems fighting back
Asking what is all this crap
You old guys have had your day in the sun now it's time to yield
You've had your spot of glory
You've rhymed your poems and stories
It's time to release the reigns, bring on some new ideas
That's when the poems of love stood up
And loudly proclaimed they'd had enough
Can't we all live peacefully and learn how to forgive
The words that spread the words of hate
Were all taken off of the page
Now all the poems on my site wonderfully get along
They all learned the art of compromise
Seeing the good in each others lives
Harmonizing fully now in each others poems
What fire works
Fire works crackle crunch coagulate
send the guiding stars of darkness into space
from Phoenix to ashes ember amber empathy
forgotten exploding in the heart of unremembered kindness
A giant mushroom in the sky look carefully
you’ll only see it once this beautiful display
of melted cracking spirit humanity fusing by fission
all equality in times of death bonfire rockets Me
A perpetrator by collusion capitalized in self-importance
apathy inertia clever words semantic masturbation
pen in hand computer keyboards sending drones of hate
democracy fireworks for all into the ruins of compassion
Colourful a level playing field for splashing red
blood white bone meal yellow bile contaminated
black blue hematoma where brain once was
and the poppy sprouts the wars to end all wars
Some can afford the fireworks some lives matter
more than others in the sparkling pentagon of madness
enflame the lateral collateral transnational cooperation
of demise destruction disregard for guts and gore for asphyxiation
Taking in one last breath of invested greedy inconvenient truth
I stand by and by the way by the trajectories of fire works’ insane
obliteration and contra-pose love as first and last stand before the world
the words implode when gutsy poems won’t suffice and never have
05th June 2016
As we get older,
Our ability to demolish what is on our plate in short order,
Becomes a pleasure no longer,
And without teenagers around to even the playing field,
Leftovers would continue coming out of left field,
For ever and ever until we find ourselves under the field.
But with teenagers around,
All us non-teenagers get to stay longer above ground,
As the food served up is fresh,
With nothing left on any dish,
That can be served as leftovers,
Which reduces the dangers,
Of obesity for us non teenagers,
From eating portions that are over generous.
Now all we must do is reduce the size of our drinks,
To celebrate the end of leftovers,
If teenagers are around,
To keep us longer above ground.