Long Poetically Poems
Long Poetically Poems. Below are the most popular long Poetically by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Poetically poems by poem length and keyword.
tip: don’t get sand in your lip gloss
Talking about relationships
I find it irritating when, after three hours of
sweaty club-dancing I ask my boyfriend,
“Want to get a sweet treat?” and he says “no.”
“Come on,” I whined.
I slumped, snorted and stamped my foot like a horse.
but he sat, cow-like, unmooved.
“I’m 22” I declared, lifting my chin in challenge,
“You can’t tell me ‘no.’ NO ONE can tell me no -
sweets are street-legal.”
While I was getting whipped up,
he’d started looking at his phone.
So I ordered ice cream, two scoops,
- one banana pie, and one mango-nut.
with whipped cream, nuts, strawberry bits
chocolate-sprinkles and three cherries.
He practically ate it all.
Let me say it poetically..
I was vexed near complaint
his filching was open
but with his sugared kiss, my wrath did melt,
cured, as was, by that warm piece of service
proving, all haps, love is still the sweetest thing.
.
.
Songs for this:
In These Shoes? by Kirsty MacColl
Meet You At the Moon by Imelda May
Poetry In A Mix
Here I sit, writing as I do,
God's gift to me that I can gift to you!
If I couldn't say things in poetry,
they wouldn't come out,
and be put on display?
Life's a journey; this is true.
Adventurous, thrillable,
the ups and downs, too!
God give me this gift,
this wondrous act it be.
Poetically displaying words of expression,
these things you can see?
I thought I'd write a poem
and introduce myself to you?
Hi, my name is Bill,
A pleasure to meet you, too!
Sit back,
relax,
read a line or two?
You never know where my words
will take you,
as I'm writing when I've something to say?
All you need to do is,
open your mind,
to a world to your imagination?
Might our journeys take us back in time?
Something else with this poem is relevant innovation,
and I'm ringing up the chime.
We are in North Dakota, on Highway 94, and we spy Salem Sue
She is standing thirty-eight foot tall, and the sky is relatively blue.
We are thrilled to see her, standing there, in her dairy cow clothes.
She makes us feel optimistic, that things will get better, as everyone knows.
Fargo Theater, ninety-years on March 18th shut temporarily down.
We were disappointed to find this out. It gave us a bit of a frown.
For I had been counting on it but then I spy the badlands up ahead.
Painted in lovely beiges and pinks, they are so poetically wed.
I received a buffalo nickel at gift store, and that made me feel good too.
In North Dakota these pretty souvenirs are generously given to you.
I spy a meadowlark, and remember that this s North Dakota’s state bird.
Drive many miles without seeing another car, seems kind of absurd.
Painted Canyon in Roosevelt’s National Park cannot be missed.
A dainty wild prairie rose gives impression she has been kissed.
Buffalo and cowboys we see and we happily giddily point out.
Yes North Dakota is the place to be. So consider this my shout out.
Clarity, clarity, surely clarity is the most beautiful thing in the world, A limited, limiting clarity I have not and never did have any motive of poetry But to achieve clarity.
George Oppen
If it wasn't for poetry,
how would we portray stars of clarity?
Moon would appear silently ordinary,
how would we express that which is contrary?
Verses without stardust shimmer would be horrid,
no metrical composition would sound torrid.
No sapphire skies nor turquoise tides.
No ivory shores nor firefly guides.
No magic of butterflies dancing under moonlight.
A travesty of no lullabies to ease before midnight.
Horizons would appear blank, dismal and dark -
your muted muse would forfeit their spark.
If a poet's conscience suffers a premature death,
how would you honour their quill's last breath?
How would you express that painful goodbye?
No legacy for our words to poetically beautify.
Unable to honour memories of the deceased -
an unwritten elegy cannot praise a masterpiece.
Autumn would just be a modified season.
Spring slowly blossom without a reason.
Summer would bring no wonder in flowers.
Winter would be grey with freezing showers.
Would music suffer from atrocious lyrics,
unmetered songs only lead to hysterics.
Would poetic love exist?
Would our lips have ever kissed?
No expressions to defeat hate.
No epodic justice to fate.
No sweet sonnets to revere.
Shakespeare's world would disappear.
Romeo would not woo Juliet.
Literature students would forget
bards who bled ballads before us -
what would lovers have to discuss?
No angst or alliterations.
No 3am damnations.
No syllable creations.
No lustful flirtations.
An end to narrations.
All lost translations.
If there were only ugly words,
would it be the end of singing birds?
No emancipation of the oppressed.
No catharsis for the depressed.
Hearts would repress and suppress.
Demons would stress and digress.
If it wasn't for poetry,
I would still be a mystery.
I would not speak in rhymes,
there would be nothing to define.
My soul a misunderstood metaphor,
drowning in an inkless reservoir.
Life would become a burden,
as petals die in my poetic garden
and after everything has been said and done,
there would be no Poetic One.
Little and large words all around
in our heads swirling busy bees
wanting an outlet for some fresh air
opportunities just don't grow on trees
So when they come grab them!
to convey your thoughts world wide
speaking to all who may listen
helping them fight against their tide
Seek always aiming high ideals
be truly poetically positively powerful
wishing more of us could achieve
this would be absolutely wonderful
This world out there crying aloud
for help, love, care, it's real need
our words can inspire and uplift
so splash the ink be the feed!
(Just some thoughts on what our poetry should be aiming to do and even when we don't reach the mark we have at least tried our best.)
Everything’s been frantic since the break.
What people don’t tell you about college,
is that you’re just tired ALL of the time.
I’m so tired, yawn ‘scuse me.
So if you’re planning to talk to me, bring coffee, make
some effort to be interesting - clap your hands or.. something.
Work piled up on me while I was sick (I missed two days!)
and it radiated across my.. everything, like nuclear waste.
In New Haven, you have the inalienable right to fall behind.
ok, let’s put it poetically..
The microorganism was as fast and brutal as a twister
and it spun, tricksily, out of a clear blue day
leaving me weak, in shock and totally focked.
I needed things that come after a natural disaster
- wailing sirens, to clear the way for organized relief
but no volunteers can help me pick-up the pieces.
I guess I needed another challenge this term.
Sure, my roommates check in, but they have their own traumas
and they’re like those slow, drive-by accident-tourists that gawk.
Too bad there’s no such thing as missed class/assignment insurance.
There’s a saying (cleaned up), here at Yale, that goes:
It’ll get done because it HAS to get done.
.
.
There are several songs for this piece:
‘We're All Alone’ by Kennedy Ryon
‘Totally Wired’ by The Fall
or ‘Baxter (These Are My Friends)’ by Fred again.. & Baxter Dury
Two days: 4 lectures, 3 labs, 600 pages of reading. Things roll baby - they certainly don’t stop for mE.
Webster: Inalienable: impossible to take away or give up
"Today don't beg, don't ask, just thank God in silence for all the blessings in your life. Each morning brings a hidden blessing; a blessing which is unique to that day. You deserve all the good things that happen to you."
~ Paulo Coelho
Auspicious azure atoll with augmented aurora
Bounteous bells bringing in buoyant breeze
Chiming cornucopia of coloured circles
Drawing drapes of dulcet dreams in delight
Emanating effervescence of enchanting echoes
Frivolously flying fervent fruits of father's faith
Gratitude garnered graciously in gaiety golden gospels
Humming harmonious hopes of humane harbinger
Iridescent immaculate ink of inbound ideologies
Jubilant jar of judicious joy in juggles
Kernels of kindness kindred in kaleidoscope
Luminescent leaves with lustre of love language
Mother's memoirs of mesmerizing morning mellow
Nurturing nascent nights with neon nuzzles
Opulent overwhelming opportunities of optimism
Pinnacles of permeating pleasure peeking in panacea
Quintessential quilt of quietude quenching quests
Radiant realms of rapport reviving a rhapsody
Soft silver slumber sparkling in sanguine serendipity
Translucent threads of tenacious tangible treasures
Unearthed utopia upholding ushered upbeats of urges
Veracious variance vibrating valiantly in vicinity
Wonderful white wisps of warm whispering waves
Xenon xing from xenial xylophones of xander xenia
Yellow yarns of yonder yesterdays yielding youthfulness
Zooming with zillion zestful zigzags to zealous zenith
July 20, 2020
SHARE YOUR BLESSINGS POETICALLY Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Beata Agustin
~Winner: 1st Place
Blessings, saturated in God’s favor, fruitful, divine. You have yours. Here is a mind full of mine:
Agápe, a selfless love, contains all of God’s goodness and grace.
Baptism, an open air declaration; bath of Bathsheba, forgiven.
Clear conscience, nothing to hide - my dirty rag washed clean.
Depths of the wonders of God goes on and on and on, forever.
Everlasting life as fellow heirs of Christ; a precious kingdom key.
Forgiveness for we are all guilty - He lets us touch His hem.
Grace spoken; I am not in the sights of God’s wrath - thankful.
Helpings from friends folded hands; they share in answered prayers.
I AM — he knocked down opponents who stood up, nailed Him to a cross.
Just as I am, I was called, though knee deep in misery, He saved me.
Klepto - why steal from God? He lets me keep ninety percent — blessed.
Larger than life one may say, but He is life...
Multiplies what we need, what we ask for - God takes joy in this.
Name change — not what we see, but what He sees — our best.
Offering of praise brings heaven to us, changes things.
Psaltery of emotions, lets us know we are not alone in this flesh.
Questions of Jesus, pondered and extrapolated, deep answers.
Rapture, knowing we will also return with Him and angel armies.
Serendipities- God’s surprises better than gold.
Tree of life - I can’t wait to try its choice fruit - finders keepers.*
Under His wings, I have refuge.
Vision in the circle - as we envision God, He appears.
Weary, I do not faint, mounting on the wings of an eagle — soar...
Xray of strong bones, dry bones reborn.
Years spent studying His word pays dividends of wisdom and peace.
Zephyr breath of Holy Spirit, a gift that speaks.
7/16/2020
SHARE YOUR BLESSINGS POETICALLY Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Beata Agustin
*American saying - what you find you can keep. We find salvation, it is ours forever!
"The Forest, The Lot and The Carpetbagger"
In the middle
of it all, in
The Forest,
I was asked
by a soothsayer
to choose
a number
1, 2 or 3.
I said
in all sincerity,
“that’s a bad number, 3.
someone always feels
left out discarded; now
if you get down to it,
about playing cards,
well 1,
is rather obscure,
concealed,
not easily expressed,
or understood,
no fun, just 1,
waiting for the deal
to be delivered,
to be done,
you could wait forever,
as just number 1, where's
the fun in the dance
as the unknown, unseen
stoic 1."
So I chose 2,
me and my shadow
2, I’d bring the
other with me
like a pair of
socks, well matched
walking off the page
walking off
win-win
with the shining
light, the payload,
the winnings,
the lot, at end of day
like a carpetbagger,
when fortune
tempts fate
walking its
very very fine line,
Risk asks for the payoff
and in exchange,
for trust and faith,
the long night
and dreary day
over all are saved;
opportunity knocks,
the door opens
it is now
unlocked,
I walk through,
poetically speaking,
I manifest the lot.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"An Event Destined to Happen in Your Lifetime"/White Feather Tarot
I’m only one person
On this vast blue earth
Searching for that place
Since the day of my birth.
I knew when I was born
That I wanted to be unique
Leaving behind a memoir
History buffs would seek.
I wanted a world
Where everyone got along
And violence faded
With a peaceful song.
But sometimes I grow weary
Of feeling others pain
Wishing from my heart
I could ease the loss they gain.
Many times I wonder
Why do I have to care
With a cold heart
I could walk with ignorant flair.
Am I the only one
Who ponders why I’m here
Questioning my purpose
With just an ounce of fear.
Why do words hound me
Every hour of every day
Filling me with emotion
That poetically guides my way.
I am but one person
Hoping my presence here
Will inspire another
Through a smile or a tear.