Long Prefix Poems

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


Premium Member Penultimate Prefix of Passion

As the final glimpse 
of the sun leads into 
an everlasting spectacle 
of twinkling dreams, 
peeking through 
    turmeric traces 
of an amber aftermath, 
I listen to the 
nesting nightingales
    croon nostalgic lullabies, 
and search for a 
celestial ray 
that would illustrate,
the beginning  
of
   butterflies 
    within 
my glass heart.

When twilight is 
just a 
   mere mirage 
in the distance of 
my destitute mind,
and tune 
  of your
    laughter 
    reverberates 
  in rhapsodic refrain;
a raspy rhythm 
        ringing 
 through
  rustic breeze,
whilst the 
   whistling 
       wind waves 
    to the
dandelions 
      dancing
   to your 
delicate drumbeats, 
scintillating stars 
fall upon 
    our silhouettes, 
scattering pieces of 
who I once 
used to be-
within pulsating 
flesh and bones,
   before I felt the 
warmth of your 
     cosmic whispers. 

Now initials of 
your amethyst
song is the 
    penultimate prefix 
to my path 
        of   
           healing,
where  
  sentimental sighs 
between us,
unveil 
   wordless 
smiles electrifying
a classical crescendo;
awaiting beneath 
      instrumental wings.

I count the  
    flickering jewels,
splattered across 
nocturnal  
    night-skies,
questioning if this 
is  
another 
      start
of a 
   weary winter? 
or is this just 
a seasonal distraction,
intoxicating my 
   procrastinating pen, 
or is your voice a 
heaven-sent elixir,
to soothe the satanic
seas evaporating 
black salt-
drizzling toxic rain,
upon my  
     porcelain choir,
synchronizing  
      a symphony
of soulmates destined 
to 
   reunite and rewrite
a 
  roseate rendezvous. 

Maybe,  
  fate reignited
to align 
  the emerald
glow between
you and I,
Maybe, I’ve long 
been a wanderer,
on a quest to reach
the rainbow  
             swirls 
above your  
     musky garden,
where background  
          music is 
the poetry woven 
from your  
      cryptic ink.

You’ll always remain
the   
   last maestro
in my carnival  
        of chaos,
amidst the loudness 
of screeching demons
chattering within every
darkest sheet of 
dreary December.


Premium Member Words of Wisdom To My Child

You grow so fast, already showing glimpse of awesome creativity
and transform discoveries from the industrious nature of your observations
so squat at my feet and raise your attentive head up high
to be equipped for this compulsory journey oh sweet creature of my seed.

My hands of your molding and chastisement
are already the processing engine of your refinement
my strong willed mind and love soaked heart
complete the stages as you hold steadfast
to the train I’ve prepared for you

Listen attentively as I perform this segment of my duties
and lets take a tour round the routes of wisdom
and gallivant the landscape of experience
while I pedal your feet and smoothen your soles

Seasoned flavored virtues are an armour through which
life’s shots are overcomed
and a colourful behaviour becomes a saviour in times of need

Labor not your whole life in chasing vapour
for out of vigour, flour is made from wheat,
Bread from flour, but all for a time of enjoyment and satisfaction

Guilty syndrome is exhibited when a person answers unasked questions
and don’t force out jokes from your head
or else people will think your sense of humor is on a life support

Sunset is no accuse for the clock to stop running ad infinitum
thus, an excuse is like a punctured umbrella
it’ll still not stop the invasion of raindrops

Your natural desires are borderless, but your ability
to strongly control them is what makes you distinct
from other species in the animal kingdom

Love has no prefix, suffix or adjective
it is what it is and as powerful as 
causing natural instincts to be abdicated in favour of kindness
just for the carnivore to embrace abstinence.

He who begins a tale becomes its reference
don’t say what you cannot defend in court
rumour is a bad odour which spreads beyond the neighbourhood
and puts a noisy siren on your personality

Bad companionship will lead you to the garbage 
and corrupt friends will join others
to marvel at the immortality of your adopted stupidity

Wash your face every morning with these words
and take your every meal with these lines 
then would they be spices
to which your life is preserved.

Premium Member The Hawaiianism of Ho'Oponopono

Image of Black Sand & Sand provided by Pixabay.

The Hawaiianism of Ho'oponopono

A word, astir, in undulating waves surges and awash a clear open black shoreline of Hawaii nei, as it recedes in cycles dashing back to an instant, springing forth that word grasped first in mumblings made by a question from what comes later. 

Hawaiiana has amongst the narrowed rudiments containing 12 alphabets; 7 consonants; H - K - L - M - N - P - W, plus 5 vowels; A - E - I - O - U. In its wake, Hawaiians have improvised their grammar by accommodating words to include more than one meaning, it is known as, "equivocal". A different way of supplementing their shortfall via letterings is by repeating words, whereto, two aspects emerge, firstly and the most prevalent variant of Hawaiiana repeats is, word pluralization, simply by adding the 's' at the end, sort of speak. Then secondly is word emphasization, or best to be known as, word empowerment. 

"Ho'o" is an energetic prefix, in and of itself though insignificant in the Hawaiiana context as a stand-alone word, implying "to make or making". In this example, the base word, "pono", is an equivocal word. In no respective order, first; moral qualities, uprightness, and decency. Second; a clear understanding, completeness, and being thorough. Third; correctly fulfilled, proper procedures, and accuracy. Fourth; prosperity, welfare, benefit, and equity. There remain several meanings that essentially are extensions of the foregoing. 

Nevertheless, when the base word is repeated, then "Ho'oponopono" basically means to, "make right a wrong". The Hebrews call it "Kaphar".

Back to mumbling and anticipation as a kid faced up to grownup legs. A worn grimace is yon about pause steadily. Quizzative looks around the room and tempts a peek past the formidable figure that blocks nearly the whole of him. The aged utter clarity, "E pule ho'oponopono kakou", (Let us pray for correcting our wrongdoing), afterward, an amended kid embraces the closing answer, "Ae, ho'omaika'i ia oe", (Yes, victory is yours). On the whims of a pendulum, Ho'oponopono wanes as a learnt man winds a clock up to speed.

2021 May 28
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Didactic

Premium Member Sartorial Self Portrait

[()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()][()]

Ex Hotelier hangs I, We've Vacancies,           
closet not quite empty, merely absentees,                          
the clothes that sort out--hang like memories,            
of guests gone--front door, yards from Seven Seas.  

       ?              ?             ?              ?              ?              ?              ?
      /-\           /-\           /-\            /-\            /-\           /-\            /-\
  =====   =====    =====    =====    =====   =====    =====           
  R R R R     E E E E     T T T T       I I I I      R R R R     E E E E    D D D D

Spaced air fills--their heart and soul ... 'minds me best,
start whiles fresh--ere end, 'familiars' chose.
Clothes: suits, trousers, waistcoats: here it's a vest,
I 'un' prefix: changed old address to close.

       ?              ?             ?              ?              ?              ?              ?
      /-\           /-\           /-\            /-\            /-\           /-\            /-\
  =====   =====    =====    =====    =====   =====    =====           
  R R R R     E E E E     T T T T       I I I I      R R R R     E E E E    D D D D

Three-piece suit, daily polished shoes; discharged.
Unfamiliars stayed, changed weather, scenes,
locale, lifestyle, minus people emerged,
keds, heaps tees, and shorts; comeback kid hang dreams.

       ?              ?             ?              ?              ?              ?              ?
      /-\           /-\           /-\            /-\            /-\           /-\            /-\
  =====   =====    =====    =====    =====   =====    =====           
  R R R R     E E E E     T T T T       I I I I      R R R R     E E E E    D D D D

Proper, primed, and polished fine ... 'yesterdays,
wink naught to lose those bright golden hue days.
____________________________________________________________
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

Cleft Heart

Early October when the bomb went off,
Tearing us apart.
A brother here, a sister there.
Scattered across the globe.

Like the shock had made
Roots suddenly disappear.
Wandering to find them again.

Something to anchor me to life,
And something to pretend 
That none of this ever happened.

It was like walking under a tree
Green burning bright
Like a star in the night.

Until it drops its snow
Right down your back
And your spine inverts itself.

The snow no colder than
The snowball fight earlier.
But never expected.

I never expected any of this
I trusted you,
I loved you.

But after you left,
We didn’t talk for months.
You didn’t understand that.

How could you think,
Nothing would change between us?
When you tore my heart right out.

I was a child,
Not a liver,
I’m not that resilient!

Are you stupid?
Or can you just think
That wishfully?

Couldn’t you have thought wishfully,
About her too?
Build her up in your mind.

Something better than she was,
Instead of leaving me all alone with her,
The only boy around.

We were six!
Then just three,
Only boy was me.

Brothers dug for oil,
Money for their toil.
We all got new family.

Pretend it’s normal
This prefix ‘step’ for everybody.
A monosyllabic word for ignorance.

Did you have stinging nettles
In the corners of your mind,
Shrouding your secrets from yourself?

I didn’t know what a man was!
How could I instantly become?
I guess you didn’t know either.

I found a new father,
He’s never let me down.
He’s unshakeable.

Yeah we talk now,
About the weather,
And the price of gas.

But it will never be the same,
I can’t think that wishfully.
I won’t struggle to get as close.

You used to hold me close,
Just to be near me,
I treasure the memory.

It was twelve years ago you left,
Twelve years with a cleft heart.
When you changed the definition of home.
I’m trying to be eloquent now,
But all I can think of,
Is just how much it hurt.


Premium Member Full Metal Clown

Full Metal Clown, I don't know another life/
So I walk around on egg shells, with people thinking I'm crazy/
I live a metal life, with a clown mentality/
So I rock out when I roll, this is my reality/
I continue to rise, I climb the mountain to the top/
I unload my lyrics, just so you can upload/
I took YouTube by storm, my music put hair on your chest/
My picture on YouTube is blue but I'm really not blue/
My metal top notch, so I give you a shipload/
Turn me up loud till your speakers explode/
We are in the day and age of Symphonic Metal/
They are trying to kill the game, and I'm the crucifix,/
The prefix, the suffix, and all in between,/
With a nasty rare swag, but my style Mr. Clean/
I'm probably the only one with this many tattoos/
Who lives a clean, sober, legit life like the purest clown/
They celebrate my music like a festival/
I make dudes shiver, I make women quiver/
I'm unapologetic, I'm not a forgiver/
Be my friend but never hate on me cuz if you hate, you damn yourself/
My life is day to day, looking for that relief/
I'm a proud clown with a rhyme in my swag/
I see death around the corner, I tell him come and play/
If I owe him my life, then the Devil have to pay/
If I really have to pay, it will be in down payments/
Just a little at a time, I'm just trying to make it/
I'm a disobeyer, you a clown portrayer/
No, I'm not Buffy, but I'm a guitar slayer/
To all metal betrayers, I'll turn a popstar into a metal head/
I will hold the game down, in any event/
You other clowns are experimental, you need development/
Your rhyme is sentimental, it's just too gentle/
My flow is full throttle, it's a tough pill to swallow/
No pun intended, this not the Apollo/
Ha, pun is intended, this is not the Apollo/
All you metal heads are just too soft and hollow/
My full metal style got the game in a web/
You just caught up in the middle so put it on my tab/

Unstained Soul

I saw her  a milky complexion and a voluptuous frame , she had a name but no surname noone gave her a surname . 

I found her similar less incommon a saree she had draped in an impious commotion to look like what she had to look like . 

Little choice did she had to hide the wonders of her skin which were not wonders to her , the brightness of her smile nd her cleavage were unholy to them to her , it was mere piece of flesh scotched and held tight without any pocession she was never touched with admiration but only exploitation.  

They scorn at her as she is relegated but forget to question her origin before grabbing her ,  forgot which caste did she uphold because for them she was not a piece of art but a Harlot , her beauty was perhaps sold . 
Her feminsm  staked  for the pleasure of a night nd she cried , she cried not of the pain it gave her but about every remark of unholy and stained sexuality which slapped in her nightmares of open eyes maybe she too complained but her complaints sucked in by mouths of holy men .

But wait , last night she too saw a dream of all holy men where she was also one of them no less was she revered wearing a saree washed with dignity this time . 

Her speech as a monologue of her aspirations and not melancholy of  compulsory sex . Her lips now echoing the eulogy of her power , they stained her skin but couldn't reach her heart . 

Maybe she wants to be a doctor , an actor  , a choreographer a singer or a poet but no one asked her . Her demeanour no more sluggish say hello to the newborn priggish her prefix is not just a prostitute , her life is much more than bodily servitude .

No less than a pandit she is a sensational prelude so the next time you see a prostitute just smile at her not for her stained sexuality but for her soul’s individuality because her soul remains 
Unstained . 

By : Ridhi bhutani ( herfingerwings)
Form: Ballad

Eidos of History

In America’s Pragmatism,
the urgent question is "of" individual sanctity
now can be tweeted as:
“what is the Pragmatic or Aesthetic function "of"
******** or PUSSY, anyway?”

and "of" the 2 types of Humanity:
the Good Dudes and the Bad Dudes—
in the view of this “Trash Culture” or “Pseudo Culture”!

In European Phenomenology,
it is about "aboutness," about, for example,
the 4 kinds of people:

the Ass-holes, the Ass-wipes, the Ass-kissers, 
and 
those who **** all over the world and 
come home as “Sir”!

some of those exist in the understanding, 
some in reality!

Phenomenologically speaking, 
persons should be explored
like an uncharted wild terrain—
a person reflects the society he/she lives in.

In an African Perspective, 
there is only one Human race
in one Home called Dachii, Oikos:

Ume Walaabuu baate—
Creation began at Walaabu!

Nutu kana, natu akkana—
We are, therefore, I am!
safuu! oofuu! ubuntu!

We Africans are not uncivilized
We are civilized differently—
and maladjusted
with different thought patterns!

Simply put, it is 
too much a "Progress" folks 
too much to cope with
one is too shallow, the other is too deep a "Civilization" 
to figure out
and too hard to focus.

Africa, oh Africa
land of Love&Light
happy to be maladjusted?
_______
Operational Definitions of "Eidos" and "Oikos":

Eidos:
-for Ronald Barthes "eidos" = appearance, idea, constitutive nature,
-or as a Greek term, it means "form" "essence", "type" or "species".

Oikos
-is a Greek term for English prefix: eco- for "ecology" to refer to three related but distinct concepts: the family, the family's property, and the house

Who said the ancestry of human knowledge is Greek or Latin anyway?
Form:

Consultation Room

Consultation Room


Our organs we disdain
Until we have some pain
Then begin to learn
Let organs respect earn!

There’s this red “bean”
Fond of giving a spleen
Pith can suffer “cones”
They call kidney stones.

Maligned cirrhotic livers
Afflict with painful fevers
You may relish one of sheep
Yours gives scant sleep!

“You’ve got a Big Heart.”
Then think you’re smart!
There’s fire in the chest
You would hardly rest.

Diseased swollen lungs
Give the worst pangs
You sweat all over night
Yet shiver with frost bite.

When eyes are in pain
They see lightning and rain
The Pain eyes can lodge
You wish them to disgorge.

Not least a swollen ear
Which no sound will hear
It gnaws into your soul
Leaving you an empty bowl!

“Labour, to an aching tooth
“is nothing, I tell the truth!”
“You’re good wif no teef
“Than wif cyst underneaf!”

Cancer of the prostate-
Who would aptly relate
The worst of all the worse
It is a pure human curse!

Those who eat so well
Call gastric ulcers real Hell
Once a morsel you partake,
Writhe like a dying snake!

And, cancer of the cervix
Has Pain with no prefix!
The sick that you nurse
Suffer agony like a curse.

               *

Whoever is now healthy
Is confirmed as wealthy	
Organ treatment or care
All our efforts must dare.

Correct thy eating habit
Potential throe will inhibit
Work till you sweat
Disease spurns the heat.

Substance use or abuse
Condemn it and accuse
Cancers that we endure
Come from deals impure.

Regular checks are noble
To detect what may wobble
“And rectify the setback
 “That’ll get ya out o’ track!


*** Upon spending a sleepless night with a malignant lung (13/11/2013).

JM

14th Nov’ 2013
Form: Couplet

The Ring

The Ring

When I asked my girlfriend to marry me, she was thrilled
and said, now I can quit my boring job and be a housewife.
She called her parents they were coming into town 
the next day, meet us at eight o’clock sharp.
I had bought my fiancé a ring of old gold with green gem,
it looked expensive but wasn´t
I put the ring in my camelhair overcoat, the coat was darn 
more expensive than the ring.
Going to meet the new family, I was a bit nervous stopped
at a bar had a Rom and coke, as I was about to order 
one more drink my friends, came in; laughter and talk.
When I looked at the time it was about 9, I rushed out
And forgot my overcoat
to find a cab, there wasn’t any, so, I had to walk to the house
and arrived about ten 0’clock.
Rang the doorbell, she cried and refused to let me in,
I knocked on the door, when it opened it was her father
Who angrily shouted that his daughter wasn´t marrying a common drunk?
It was the prefix “common” that hurt me most.
Back at the bar, my dear overcoat was stolen but my friends
Consoled me, we drank some more.
Two years later, I saw she was getting married in a small white church
in the neighbourhood.
I went to her wedding but sat in the back didn´t want her to see me.
I have good eyesight and noticed she wore the same ring
I never got around to giving her
That made me wonder if the bridegroom was a thief.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

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