Long Pluto Poems

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


Bad Craziness Rising

> Walking into that bar
>
> That nefarious den of
> iniquity and evilness
>
> Twenty drinks too sober
> The scent of bad craziness
>
> Hung in the air
> Like an over ripe mango
> Desperately seeking to have
> sex
> With wild, dressed up bananas
> Running around with the Orange Man

> Down the Street
> The Moon looks out on the mad
> scene
> Sniffs the air
>
> Saying, "Man, this is
> bad craziness"
>
> And runs away to join her
> lover the Sun
>
> In an orgy of drunken
> forgetfulness

> The Planet Mars, not amused
> Chases after the maiden Venus

> Under the cold, calculating
> glances of the Planet Pluto
> The Moon and the Sun
>
> Rent a room in the Hotel
> Venus
>
> Across from the Jupiter All
> Night Diner
> Cosmic **** kickers
>
> Out for a night of Earth
> bashing
> The Earth trembles, shaken
> Moans with passion

> And I awake
>
> Saying, that was bad
> craziness
> Out there on the edge
>
> Between the inner me and the
> outer Zone
> I went on down the road
>
> And met a lady
>
> A outlaw lady on the far side
> Money, power, passion
> Rolled up in a bundle
>
> Electric chemistry
> Fills my head
>
> Zapping my brain
> Into demented muscles

> Paranoid, pulsating images
> Scream out
>
> With mad passion
> And demented noises
> The night turns ugly fast
>
> And very, very weird
>
> Weirdness in the air
> Scent of bad craziness

> The moon
> Is freaked out
>
> The Sun falls asleep in the
> gutter
>
> And I say to myself
>
> I'm just another cosmic Guy
> On the loose, on the edge,
> On the wild side of things
>
> Watching the show,
> Unfold,
> I wonder, is this all
> A drunken bum show?
>
> Who is the star, who is she
>
> The maiden up there in the
> bar
> Black, leather jackets
>
> On stage naked visions of
> nightly lust
> Dancing with an attitude that
> could kill
> An elephant in heat
>
> And the Moon
>
> Continues to dance across the
> evening sky
>
> Satisfied, allows mankind to
> sleep it off

\ Yet another night in the City
> of demented Angels
>
> Finally rest as the sun comes
> up
>
> The masks come back on
>
> And I walk down the road
>
> Putting everything back into
> the box
> Until the next night
>
> Of bad craziness

> Lets the wild beast within
> Escape its leash.
>
> Bad Craziness rising yet
> again
© Jake Aller  Create an image from this poem.


My Lottery

my lottery
gentlemen need loaves bread
others wishes to be civilized
i myself wishe ur deployed
                                                           the road you go 
                                                               the chair you sit and the river you swim
                                                                                                     disturb me and blame 
the garment you wear
oinment you colour
the blinks the pigments they are
the love genarated the fire
i cannot resist shall i swear 
                                                                 at the begining of the the year people flock to Dv
                                                             in other ways i go to DSTV
                                                     infact of america is not as such concern for me and i am not sensitive 
                                                                  you are victorious i am your  fugitive
                                                                 defeating you is as  far as PLUTO and complicative
                                                                  
madness i am 
craziness i become
cool you are how to play your game 
day and dawn i dream
 i miss you at the morning  getting harm 
                                                                                               you do not understand this 
                                                                                       how i become embarassed and my crisis
                                                                                          my pulse doubles 
                                                                                             my words whispers 
                                                                                           my breathing changes
                                                                                                 my sickness relapses
people  encouraged with      money
sealers satisfies with their business 
mine is not that my earnest is you 
my happieness and my value
you are the solely you are my lottery 
do not far from me i will get crazy
fee will knock to us if we become so happy
do not hesitate my lovely 
we will be wealthy 
come on my beautiful you are my lottery(2)

Indian Solar System

(TW : Abusive marriage )

So we are here in this garden less green than the ones you promised .

Oh you say this ? 
you the girl with eyes browner than the skin , 5 feet of womanhood , 7 inches of literature .( says the man who plays the man) 
How I wish I could revisit those 5 inches !
(Says the girl who plays the wife ,  who could revolve around the world but  revolved around this holy fire less holy more fire )
You ,  weren't you my partner satellite moon ? Or were you another mercury ? 
I thought you were sugar , you'd mix in hot water when I'd make tea for you but Alas ! 
You were always mercury , meant to vapourize and

then suddenly enter my body to cause sleep disorders and nervous breakdowns .
So I have a question paper like the ones they give in schools to fool children . 
1)Is this my monologue like every other or will you reply ? 
2)Are you dead or you pretend to be ? 
3)Can I your wife play dead ? 
and if I play dead , will you make food for chotu and manage the laundry ? 
4)Can wives play dead or become "Plutos" , leaving the solar system with its fireball and mercury leaving no trace of cool winds and dwarfism ? 
I have a last questions to ask , like Neil Armstrong had for moon . 
5)Did the moon turn out to be what he expected or did he find craters ? 
If he found craters I would travel to the past in a time machine or my washing machine and tell him that he was lucky to find craters on the moon , I never found a moon except for karvachauth , the festival they make us celebrate to see the real moon and then see the mercury that appeared like moon but wasn't . 
Though I am not allowed to answer you back but let me open , 
ans) I , Sarla , the wife of a man who is just a man wasn't lucky enough to find a moon when I was sent away from my brown and blue earth with grasslands green and sky as blue as lapis lazuli 
I wish I could play dead or
extremely volatile like you do but there are clothes to wash ,
lies to be recited in the ears of children when they ask for stories .
How I wish I could recite them poems from literature but Alas ! 
I am Sarla and I am just 5 feet tall , tall enough to remain invisible in this solar system .

#Tragedy #Society #Struggle

One Time

I turned the clock of time to look deeper into the divine; I turned the clock of time to see what is mine. The wheels keep spinning and the machine keeps rolling and I behold an oracle rising up from the sea and it is entering the galaxy guided by a strange satellite with millions of light years cursing by its side. I wasn’t sure what to make of it but it left me completely static. 

It drifts and drifts circling around the outer layer of the sky bidding the old moon goodbye and somersaulting in thin air. Time has taken it to a new dimension when it suddenly collides with the heavens, the devil was waiting on the banks but the angels formed a long line and direct it into space. 

It traveled a thousand miles in space breaking through the middle ground shooting out fire behind its tail and rising to a dimension that confuse the heart and soul of man. It explores the universe, gathering data in its throat with pinhole camera attached to it, it continues to drift in time until you see what lies in the shadows. 

The temperature keeps growing with the time, and the mission keeps focusing on the divine; the dimension widens the suspicious broadens, and time and space compression expand beyond the distance .I can feel the electromagnetic wave pulling me and the distant relationship solidifying me and the feeling of hope  is walking all over me. 

 The mission continues in the sky and I will hold on to gravity umtil  I die, the gravitation fields are strong so I have to find a different place to land .

Mars is waiting for me but that mission cannot carry me. I need something bigger and broader that can withstand the nature of time and move further inland with the divine. 

The planets are boiling and sooner or later a miracle will be exposed. The Earth will raise, Mars, Pluto and Venus will take you to the next level. Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune will meet you at noon and you will have dinner in the garden with earth apposite the lake, you will invite a thousand soldiers to dine and you will play the flute to bring back memory of your youth; time has just taken you on  journey to understand the heat and prepare the fleet.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member In the Shadows

I was dumbfounded when she said that she remembered niether me                                                                nor my wife.  She remembered my place of employment, my superior,                                                                                      
and my closest co-worker, but not me.  My continued attempt at aiding                                                       her memory only rendered, "no recall".  I taught her and her brothers                                                   
in the church youth meetings.  I was close to her parents, and though she was                                               a bit younger than me,  she was indeed old enough to remember. However, when it became clear she could not recall, we politely ended the phone call. Undoubtedly, it was time to cease and desist in the pursuit of the conversation.                                                                                                 

I concluded that yes, she last saw me  more than 30 years prior, but I must have stood in the shadows. I understood and refused to accuse or blame, because surely I must have sat under tall trees where the leaves and limbs deflected both the heat and the light. Moreover, for some reason, a shadow was also cast leaving little to no reflection of me.                                                

Perhaps I was an unnoticed frame on the wall. Or could  it be that I was a candle in a drawer, a voice unheard, a village in a valley, a pluto in a vast galaxy, a planet in the measureless universe, and not a city on a hill?

It may or may not be of one's own choosing to be cast a faceless image in the crowd; but it's helpful to know if one is destined to be a voiceless shadow person in a room. Perhaps I was quiet and colorless, non agressive,  and more tolerating than I should have been.  Perhaps I was interpreted as weak; and if so, I must confess; 34 years later, it caused a bit of annoyance and just a little pain. But I must add, it was not enough to cause a change in the essence of me, nor to drive me insane.
04092017PSContest, Any Poem In June, Laura Loo
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Cosmos Configurator

When I gaze far off into the night sky
The chaos is not pleasing to the eye.
Seems there was never an overall plan
When the beginning of time began.

I don’t mean to sound so high and mighty
But the stuff up there’s not very tidy.
Yes, there are luminous constellations
But it needs cosmic configuration.

When figuring out just how to plan it
I started on the jumbled up planets.
It’s not a stretch to say they need sorting
And here are a few things I’m purporting.

First I thought they should be alphabetized
Or at least ordered according to size.
They could be arrayed by number of moons
But I think that’s getting too picayune.

Sure, there is a listing of other things
Like arranging them by their colored rings.
Or by what lie’s hidden beneath the dust
That entirely coats their outer crust.

I settled and placed them by dimension
As said plan will cause the least contention.
Starting with the sun, since that big old orb,
Can’t help but lead; being so self absorbed.

Petite planet Pluto, this time is first
Mercury’s next, then trodden Mars comes third.
After that Venus, followed by our Earth
Which were in that order, now they’re by girth.

Let’s jump up to Neptune, then Uranus
Which happens to rhyme with Ignoramus.
Yes fancy Saturn, you go next in line
Jupiter’s last, since so easy to find.

Let’s continue this celestial tale
By systematizing the scene, broad scale.
We’ll journey further than Venus and Mars
To coordinate the world of stars.

We can array each pulsar by brightness
Which doesn’t interest me the slightest.
Or chart them based on their distances from us
Though why on Earth quibble with all that fuss?

Instead we’ll do what the globe mappers did
And arrange every star on a grid,
We’ll plot a rough draft on large graph paper
Like olden times, by light of a taper.

Now, you can choose a square and stick by it.
Worry free of the old cosmic riot.
Where each and every star is viewed best
Whether gazing to north, south, east or west.

The sky is looking much better by now
And all the skeptics will have to avow.
That once you know how to rework matter
Like here on earth, it’s the size that matters.

Hieros Gamos 2012

She reunited with her lover
He has been away from home
For millennia

She waited alone
In the isolated cold and space
But she did not want the children
To think about their father

She as both mother and father
The duties and responsibilities
Were left to her
How could she denied them
Angelic faces that recalled
Her lover and husband

She went to her empty bedchamber
Every night with thoughts of him
On darken nights
None to warm her 

She had her suitors
Men both great and small
Passerby and casuals
They would hang their members
On the walls of her home
Like Winter Solstice stockings

She would cut them down
One by one
Hurt by their pride
But nonetheless for the wear

More than 26,000 years
Preceded her longing
For her lover
Her patience greater than Job
Her steadfastness out last the face of the Sphinx

But on the fifteen day of December
Her lover returned back home
From a dangerous odyssey 
Through comets
Quasars and black holes
And light years of distant
Galaxies

She had listened to more than a 1,000 tales
End of time stories that heralded his coming

But when she saw his divine countenance
She laughed uncontrollably
He was really home this time and
For good

She rushed into his arms
Then gently caressed his face
And kissed his tendered but broken lips

Followed by their children
Who embraced him around his legs

Venus Mars and Mercury
Raised their light quotients
In accordion

As the children lay in bed
Sleeping with crescent moon shaped
Smiles

She entered their bedchamber
With him by her side

She was now with her lover
Her lover was now with her

She was now the moon
Her lover was now the sun

And with this great solar return
She fertilized the sun
The earth and the moon

And with this great celebration story
She brought life forth to
Saturn
Jupiter
Uranus and Pluto
And the nearby Pleiades constellation

And with this galactic marriage
And sacred union
There was love and joy

And with this Hieros Gamos
And the triangulation
Of the Milky Way’s core

There was love and joy
The seeding and initiation
Of a new and great beginning
An event horizon
Let us begin
© Mel Brake  Create an image from this poem.

Jihad Donald Trump Style

The glory of America, 
now heats up
with agitation poised 
to strike on the brink
sans legislation incites humiliation,
which goads desecration
 
as fete accompli chink
in armor of Democratic rubric, 
constituting capitalistic
ethic, generic iconoclastic, 
and jingoistic logic,
nor budging an inch 

when mandating masses 
swallow his drink
what huff huck – 
this belligerent, dominant and
fervent hellraiser doth 
bungle in the jungle

decreeing tacit Marshall law 
fast as a shutterfly eyewink
as his cosmic crotch grab 
doth put Venus under his sway
with his Mercury hill temperament
pitches the orbit of planet Earth 

tubby comb out of balance
infected by hiz anti Jew pitter 
damnations, excoriations, fulminations
Huzzah sing how whiz derriere 
didst Sat urn simultaneously
crushing crucible as an Uranus

indiscriminately plopping 
two hundred fifty pounds of flesh
doubling down humming 
his favorite Neptune
that dost affect Pluto hoc crass sea
repeating a self coined motto – 

I yam almighty, therefore no fink
simply commandeering the reins of control,
a one man military intelligence groupthink
hut triad and true dyed in the wool 
rip pug in ant guise zing rogue
rejoicing tuff fool, governing and hoodwink

king the die hard fans of dictatorial, 
linkedin and monarchist ink
cube bus thriving on 
wielding indomitable aggression
practiced in the Art of the Deal 
incorporating an unanticipated jink

iron fist rule reigning down 
vis a vis pro pens heave lee 
and prop hen city
flashing hiz seal of approval, 
which scribbled signature
doth not smooth arctic monkey
 
serve hay puzzling kink
boot his frenzy to bulldoze 
catastrophic, formulaic, and illogic
spells these United States 
of America will become hell
in a handbasket worth repeating 

with nary a trace of the grit of link
kin, the sixteenth president, 
(whose ruggedly pioneering frontier existence)
found him steady and strong, 
plus soft hearted as pelt o’ mink
the epitome of this forty fifth 
elected commander in mischief.

Ironically

Coming back home to you
in my head, that was the plan
my very wish
It's been three long years since I've seen you last
and four long years since you performed heart surgery upon me
The story between you and me
I've written countless pages
spent endless days trying to forget
while sleepless nights in mid fright all I could do was remember
My love, my hate
dissipate, materialize back into my arms
they miss you, they despise you
If I held you once more, would I grip with love
or would I coil like a snake around your neck
Could I even bear to see you at all
All the times I think I have finally found the key
to the hidden lock around you
shrouded in an array of flames
a skull and cross bone warning
I, the believer of myself a hero to save my princess
the skin you shed rises the veil above my eyes
to the sorceress you have proven yourself to be
along with your toad of a so called prince
an ugly manifestation of love I know will just fall apart and crumble
so is your tale with everyone who stumbles in your path
Unfortunately, I'm just a fly in your misshapen web
you crazy black widow
yet I find I would defy nature
defy all who would tear me apart from you
even my chaotic self, even you...
No...I'm just speaking the words of the protective
cause I refuse to let your happiness sink below mine
stolen before some useless fairytale prince
who is just a villain more wicked than Pluto
tricking poor Prosperina...
All I wanted, or so I thought
was to come home to you
but I sit here in my room, my personal cocoon
wishing to be the savior of your happiness
the hero to save you from the disease of loneliness
but ironically you ripped away my happiness
when you departed from me..
but ironically you infected me with the contagious disease of loneliness...
so like a snake I coil around your neck in my dreams
but like a kid whos been away from his mother too long
I wrap tight and refuse to let go in my heart
but in my cocoon I drift off to sleep
the fly wrapped lazily in your misshapen web

Whither Dysmorphia

There is no doubt that man has progressed far beyond his worth
The human race has earned its place upon this planet Earth
But think on this – one architect above us standing tall
Accomplished in a heartbeat something greater than them all

Your body is the product of intelligent design
Far greater than the robots on the car production line
No need for slide rules, formulas, computer buffs or pi  
‘twas fashioned from the dust within the twinkling of an eye

Did you know, for example all your blood vessels unfurled
Would stretch 100,000 miles – that’s four times round the world
Each single step you take today to hold your bodyweight
Employs 200 muscles just to keep you standing straight

Your skeleton is fragile and a break takes time to heal
But pound for pound your bones are stronger than the toughest steel
The colours of the rainbow – one of natures greatest views
Yet the human eye can recognise ten million separate hues

Annoyed when you forget stuff but no wonder it’s a pain
There’s a million billion bits of info stored inside your brain
So, music calms the savage breast, no doubt you’ve heard it too 
But your heartbeat synchronizes with the tune you’re listening to 

You’re smelling something iffy, have you brought deodorant
To your nose, no sweat, It’s one of over fifty thousand scents

Your DNA coiled tight within the confines of your frame
Unfurled; ten billion miles to Pluto ( and back home again )
Your heart will pump 360 million pints of blood
And drive a truck for 20 miles with energy it’s stored

The average camera has 5 megapixels so we’re told
the human eye outstrips it by at least a hundredfold
Your atom count alone should cause your knees to bow and bend 
An Octillion has more than 20 zeroes at the end

So whilst we should be proud of what we’ve managed to achieve
And Moore’s Law will continue to inform us, I believe
Your body is the greatest work of art you’ll ever see
Thanks be to God for choosing to create humanity.

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