Long Prematurely Poems
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Enea Gets the Red Hat
Finally, he's getting somewhere.
Fifty years of age and almost crippled,
prematurely aged, but at last,
sweet recognition rains down
on the poet. Kneeling before Calixtus,
he accepts the Cardinal's hat.
Fancy that.
With every triumph, we're swept nearer Hell.
Each anthem that we sing's a kind of knell.
No matter what we get, or grab, or gain,
we're human, and our lot is death and pain.
Both Frederick and Ladislas
had to do a lot of lobbying
(Calixtus was a Borgia, after all:
and family is family.) Por fin,
esta elevado. Behold the scene.
Frederick with his back to us
and Ladislas holding on to him
(shouldn't that be the other way round?)
deserve their pride of place.
The seething swell of humans
swirls around the little altar,
but can't budge it.
The clear-cut marble doesn't give.
What is the painter telling us?
Men move, and flow, and live, and go,
but soon or later, their
energy is spent?
The Church is permanent?
Regard the four main players,
the upper crust of Mankind's many layers,
yet each one a loser clone.
Calixtus took the throne
already old, and singing one stale tune
(and that, corrupt!)
He didn't use a long spoon
when he supped.
There's Frederick, the Emperor,
a joke. Bullied by his minions,
unhappy, hapless, broke.
And Ladislas, a king without a kingdom,
a cock without a crest,
he's Frederick's long-term guest
(another kind of jest).
A prisoner -- or let's say, at home,
he and Frederick make a palindrome:
august additions to this Pleasure Dome.
Enea: worn out, homesick, ill.
Surviving now on sheer will.
Is that Nature's tonsure, or Man's?
He's kept alive by feverish plans
to mount a Great Crusade --
but we all know it won't be made.
Two rigid windows and an altarpiece.
The Trinity? (The painting is the Holy Ghost.)
Or are those plain, framed panes
the Empire and the Papacy?
You think we're reading too much in?
We point you to one subtle artist's touch.
The youth, right-centre, in the azure cloak,
who's smirking at some "only-I-know" joke:
head cocked, as if he's watching all, askance:
he finds the dainty, double-dealing dance
amusing. Isn't he Rafael?
Hatted like some crimson Cardinal,
he's watching how they rise up, how they fall.
He's waiting, calmly, to inherit all.
Serious sibling subluxation...
rapprochement somewhat salvaged dislocation
Truth be told about following poem
mostly written quite some years ago,
and revisions made to recreate
and revise a more satisfactory literary product.
This trademark ungainly, unsightly,
and unwieldy title essentially
huzzah mask ***** aid,
(my humble apology NOT
to incite unwanted
and unwonted anger
among lgbtqia community),
and accentuates tendency
(mine) to administer
reverent unpretentious yawping,
sans (asper thy usual)
wordy, quirky, nutty, heady, easy...
and gallimaufry charade,
though pointed lament
decries copious blather,
which awareness (in tandem
with better devilishly cherubic angels)
prevail upon sesquipedalian
nippy nap noopy quirkiness, might be
in my best (in show)
interest to evade
leaving an unsuspecting
reader psychologically frayed,
and without doubt prematurely
finds same cyber surfer
harried and grayed,
styled akin to experience dramatic,
and sudden onset of progeria
hence, a concerted effort
will be orchestrated, i.e.made
so everyone involved woodwind
fur me (a hip cat) tabby
conscientiously choosing
meow me modus operandi
to mute trumpeting,
associated with this one man
faltering hit parade,
hence, an intent to write
swiftly tailored and more clearly,
cogently, and creditably
qua more understandable to invite,
subsequently witnessing, an
increased authorial fan
base, and unite
easy to comprehend
underlying intelligent conversation,
and/or share something trite,
anyway, thee impetus regarding
risking emailing a younger sister,
where repressed spite led
to dissolution, née cessation
of brotherly linkedin communication
engendered me to make right
egregious emotional estrangement,
principally vitiated, nursed,
generated, augmented
(thank you very much) by me,
viz in sum avoidance behavior
(traipsing, purring, loping,
humming, and doodling along) quite
familiarly, easily, (no matter
discontentedly), alas and alack
moment seemed apropos
for this only bro
their to allow, enable,
and proffer selflessness -
pushing aside ego
(mine) and attempt to go
for the gusto hoe
embarking, kickstarting, and
resolving upon reasonable resolutions
to convey persevere re-establishing
cordiality, despite misgivings
toward Shari Todd
thee family member in question.
Seven Mossad Agents came to Norway a winter day
when a snow drowns the needs of the homeless
asleep in a shop's doorway absorbing the sarcastic smell
of coffee and the aroma of a Napoleon cream cake.
Their mission was to assassinate a man called a terrorist
by them, but freedom fighters by others.
The target had been located, a man of 47 bearded, with
prematurely gray hair, Semitic features, and a nose somewhat bigger than what is the norm in a Nordic land
He works as a waiter at a cafe, and take the bus home
a quarter past ten in the evening, to his bed-sit, about ten minutes ride from the town.
The group needed two taxis to take them to a hotel called, “Larsen's ski lodge” a pleasant little place with
modern IKEA furniture, giving rooms an airy ambiance
the group went to work at once, the leader carrying a
heavy mobile phone, trying to make contact to base, one presumes an embassy, but failed.
One of the women donned a blond wig, walked to the cafe to be sure their target was there
a quarter past ten two men entered the bus, one of them
who spoke a few word in Swedish, asked for two ticket to Husly which was the lat stop before the bur turned around and back to town
when the “terrorist” alighted the bus the two assassins followed.
No point going into details here, but they got their man
and hid his body in a snow drift.
Cooley, they stood by the stop to catch the bus on its return trip, smoking cigarettes of a foreign brand oblivious eyes saw them at the bus stop
The assassins had overlooked one thing, the man had a girlfriend and when he didn't appeared as usual she went out looking for him with the help of neighbors
Her boyfriend was found in the snowdrift
the police quickly knew what they were dealing with
but since they, the local police were not armed, they waited for reinforcement, when in the morning the assassin group came out to go to the railways station
the group were arrested.
Then the bomb dropped, they had murdered the wrong man, another Arab, they quickly insinuated was a terrorist too, what else was he doing in Norway
The court case took a long time, one of the prosecutors
fell in love with the woman with a fake wig, tried to
say she was an innocent bystander, it didn't wash
the case dragged on, in the end, and since the holocaust
was invoked, the guilty only got a few years.
It was an Autumn evening
With its cold always predicted
I rushed out of a taxi with a haste to meet the one who stole my heart
She kept reentering my mind!
I have never been so much attached to her image in my mind
She was glowing off lately, her signs of happiness were all over the place
Written all over her face and that is what I witnessed
Maybe happiness was a four-letter word, I reckoned!
Walking towards her place seemed longer that autumn evening
There was a moment I wanted to jog
A great idea employed my mind that I did not want to sweat
When I am with her, I cherish every minute that comes with it
I arrived at last
I was prompted to send her a text notifying her of my arrival
Within a minute I saw her bracket, sexy legs making their way towards me
It was only a while when I heard her sweet voice
Again, it seemed longer to reach her house and by this time I was care free
She was right next to me and that was the only thing making logic
I gathered my thoughts as I walked into her room to put the traditional bag I was gifted
I walked towards her in the kitchen as she concluded with her call
The warmth and chills I felt all at the same time mesmerized all my state of mind
I felt her scent and her warmth
I knew at that moment I could define everything in a line
She was freedom, longevity, tranquility and made me smile deeply
She had me discovering this scientific rare formula in my head
I felt her heartbeat against my own and by then I knew she was my all, the one I have always been searching for
Her kiss invited the motive for sex
Sex, I never thought would happen prematurely
My mind went on a field trip with notions
On such occasions people meet and great
And us we broke boundaries, the status quo
Everything seemed scripted with directors yelling “Action!”
The cameras were rolling with every sex scene we had as we kissed passionately
She was a great kisser, I placed all the blame to her on the scene of the crime
God Outlaws!
Her sexy naked body was in a shower we shared together and my lips losing control kissed her watery ones
I was so lost in my world
I knew I had a great story to tell
She was mine and I knew she was all that I longed
The audience were our inner souls which captured every move we made
Poet
Masego Nkuna
An email written to eldest daughter
December 28th, 2019,
which unwittingly, magically, accidentally...
resurfaced while scrolling
thru outdated emails
and OpenOffice documents of mine
thee evening of February 20th, 2022.
The remaining lines
comprising reasonable poetic rhyme
sent to said offspring
more than two plus years ago
and dada feels grief no more, cuz time
heals all wounds.
Papa unexpectedly overtaken with woe
flashback shook me complex edifice
head, shoulder, knees in to toe
quietly processing silent film status quo
shant upended jollity
between when a little girl no
matter mine nonconformist
mien unconditionally accepted,
ye dear daughter(s) don't know
sudden onset of anguish ho... ho... ho
holiday cavorting accentuated as
charade, facade, masquerade fueling ego
particularly Santa with the Misses,
and her sharp faux claws
keeping warm while
temperature five below.
No matter most every detail
I accurately gauge to attest
your life bustling
chock full o' zest
withheld, no doubt emotions
smolder within your chest
and kudos to thee lovely offspring
(both) packed bags
and headed out west
twas honorable duty, though now...
papa feels like
an unwanted guest
thee survived, albeit psyche bruised,
undergoing the electric
kool aid acid test
laughter when playing
Mancala, Uno, Sorry, et cetera,
how dada predictably did jest
when table turned,
I (spoiler Craigslist curb alert)
willingly, lovingly, and blithely
lost desire to win quest
to dispose cards, game
pieces, and/or glass beads
invariably other occasions
ye long since left (as thee must)
me and mother with an empty nest.
Nothing more doth
Matthew Scott ask or desire
then to delight and bask
as well educated hire
swimmingly how thee
learned to acquire
confidence and multitasking,
while I trod thru much
psychological muck mire
oft times (like now)
experiencing financial straits dire,
linkedin to when only youngster fire
within me belly to joie de vivre
peter out and prematurely expire
and yours truly reckons nothing
can change the past aghast being
deprived a marshmallow
at long ago time sharing campfire
with shortcomings scalding,
killing, crimping relationship,
courtesy lack of income
rendered paternal bond disastrously dire
doth now conclude another poetic wire.
This morning as I was reading the genealogy of Jesus from Matthew's Gospel, a fresh thought occurred to me that I had not entertained prior. It concerns Judah and his sons in general and one in particular. It concerns Mary's husband Joseph and how his response to God contrasts with that of Judah's son, Onan.
Judah had three sons before he experienced the bizarre encounter with Tamar and impregnated her with twins. There was Er who died prematurely due to his wickedness. There was Shelah the youngest of the three who later became a deep subject of concern. The rest of this story concerns Judah's second son who chose selfishness above responsibility.
Joseph's first response to a very questionable happenstance was one of confusion. Essentially Joseph was saying, "I don't like what I'm seeing; this is not what I signed up for; this is not my fault; I will be nice and honorable, but I'm out of here". However, while he was thinking about his next move, God spoke to him. Unlike Judah's son Onan, Joseph listened and cooperated with the Lord. Joseph endured the hardship of fleeing his homeland to Egypt in fear for the life of The Son of God. We have no clue of what would have happened had he not yielded to God's directions. After all, we are not robots; we have a free choice. We do know that when we listen to God, we are able to see the bigger picture and not 'a selfy'.
Onan*, on the other hand, knew and was told of his responsibility to perform the traditional family duty regarding his deceased brother. He could not see how he could 'personally benefit' by helping his brother. He could not see the forest for the single tree looking back at him. In the language of today, Onan made a choice and took 'the selfy road'. Joseph portrays the Christmas spirit of giving of one's self while Onan gave absolutely nothing. Unlike Joseph who saw beyond himself, Onan only could see himself. In so doing, he had no genealogy, dying alone, leaving no descendants.
Thur12072017 PS *Genesis 38
Nature made convenient sluice,
when pool water did wend
down the gentle slope
describing gargantuan wetsuit vend
er steadily chugging, chiseling,
and channeling straight away
blindly coursing upend
ding (mankind imposed)
property boundaries demarcations tend
with futile diligence,
asper the whimsical barenaked lady's
propensities, viz mother nature
made short shrift send
ding hours of surveyor labor down
into the behavioral sink also rend
ding inhabitants within the flood plain
to vacate premises and return,
when storm didst abate
comically shaking angry fist
at darkening non sheltering sky -
faux imitating to berate
meteorological processes
many complex systems create
the downpour seemingly
appearing (to me) rainier date
then years gone by scattershot memories,
(which figurative, somewhat unreliable
yardstick of boyhood) did equate
climate affecting
Southeastern Montgomery, Pennsylvania,
registering *****sapiens ultimate fate
burgeoning population, which impact great enough
for this lix spittle country bumpkin to ejaculate
(not prematurely) Hawaii hate
to reckon my environmental impact doth irritate
fragile ecosystems, and
holistic lifestyle aye would trade
(hint...mebbe ya know
of eco-centric intentional communities)
even (yes absolutely)
necessitating sweat of brow spade
work agreeable to this sometime joker
renting from management Grosse and Quade,
who primarily bolster increasing monies to get paid,
perhaps partnership incorporates hiring maid
service for their own households,
no doubt beds get properly made
yet, this regular John Doe (dependent on
social security disability because
debilitating panic attacks undermined
ability to function found (yours truly) laid
up (prior to acquiescing strong suggestions
to accept prescription medication), where grade
to cope much less steep, plus un huff frayed,
now rowing tha old skiff to destination
for to long not fostered and delayed
(christened matthew scott harris) to feign charade
nod duh so merrily lee down the time stream.
Number forty six - White House occupant re:
guarding President elect Joe Biden
Within mein hermitage
now dwells one euphoric troglodyte who wept
upon hearing unbelievable news,
(albeit at snail's pace schlepped
finally proclamation emancipation
gave reasonable rhyme yours truly to ejaculate
(not prematurely), subsequently I leapt
into the air, and kept
myself aloft completing
one after another sumersault and except
for minor nuisance of gravity
nevertheless landed feet first and crept
back into mine mancave adept
to survive alone in the wilderness.
Seventy four million popular votes
tallied across country,
gives ample reason to grind hips and bump,
(cuz the most votes
cast for any presidential candidate in history),
which Republican contender finally plopped
hook line and anchored
courtesy Taj Mahal replica sinker
into dustbin of history
good riddance electorate voted out
loutish oaf, which voters chose to dump
best mandated to cavort with zoot suited frump
on any given Wednesday available to hump
rotund barenaked lady merging
into humongous protoplasmic lump.
Caught red handed concerning
more'n where's the beef
stole 2016 election
under nose of Hillary Clinton
abused role, when tasked
as commander in chief
good ole Charlie Brown nemesis
caused nothing but grief,
hence yours truly quite elated
upon occasion when figurative new leaf
turned over and booted out
as more onerous than Baghdad thief.
Hit the ground running
with nary a second to waste
Joe Biden, Kamala Harris and company
proving their steely eyed mettle
after victory lap Democrats did taste
usher in COVID-19 game plan
bolstering pandemic defences
where prior administration sorely misplaced
priorities United States Lady Liberty
wantonly, undeservedly, subsequently
her reputation disgraced.
Hope springs eternal - ah tis amazing grace
yours truly suddenly brimming with optimism
able bodied diverse cabinet to erase
formerly inept sycophants with intentions base
running amok within White House
at long last competent candidate won the race
adieu Donald Trump, who
did disappearing act at Mar-A-Lago without a trace
sore loser teed off absent American
delivering his humiliating defeat coup de grâce.
My Roots
As dark as charcoal-as dark as rich soil of Africa -
Is the core of my traditional and beliefs – it’s obscure
Knowing that deep beneath my skin, soul and spirit is hidden the lineage
My unborn children and the forgotten ancestors–I cry and search for
The battle between my ancestors and my offspring is exploding within my soul
Ancestors are battling and asking –will your children remember us, our names
Pardon me, your seer of spirits and custodian of our culture–chant to ancestors
I beg you to utter to this generation the ancient path to our ancestors
You that lay beneath my skin – you that runs in my veins
Speak to me grandfathers, how did express love to your wife
Grandfather what was the root of your faith and how did you pray -
Before the white man told you who your God should be – please initiate me
It will be outrageous if my children will perform rituals to the god of this modernization
Grandfather what was your secret of longevity–this generation is perishing prematurely
What was the root of your morals and how did you humble yourself before your architect
Did you also share the calabash of good traditional wine to your neighbors because -
I live in a greedy and selfish generation, who would even poison their neighbor to get everything
I beg you; you bear of children-utter to this generation the ancient path to our ancestors
Our roots will not revive or remembers themselves – unless we chant them
Who cares in this careless age – no roots just rotten, no fears just fictions –
I care so much of my roots, traditions, beliefs – so I dig deep within so I may feel related again
Your children will not remember you if do not teach them to value your roots and beliefs
Sit around the fire, sit around the dinner table, tell them your roots, your identity and your pride
I can hear my father, grandfather and great grandfather saying my son certain things are worth not forgotten – they are like tree leaves and roots that will heal your running stomach
It is a taboo to ignore what will sustain your society morality, values, ethics and beliefs
I beg you; you bear of children-utter to this generation the ancient path to our ancestors
By Anthony Ngabwe (Tony The Poet)@2015
In the late 60's in 'the second city', on the south side at 43rd and Calumet, there stood a mission center to reach out to drug addicts and alcoholics
I recall there was a young lady 18 years of age and addicted to heroin And there was 'Shaky' on Calumet who left the program prematurely
I'd say to myself, "I don't see how he can last much longer out there" Once, I was confronted on the street by an angry and threatening man
But just in time, a good Samaritan came to my defense and rescued me He forced the angry man to tone down, to move on, and leave me alone.
I continued my mission in spite of my fears and inhibitions. I confess; I was afraid in the valley of the shadow of death. But in spite of my fear, the Lord was with me with rod and staff. Nearly 50 years ago, God sent someone, maybe an angel in disguise, to stand on my behalf. A college student studying for the ministry, I could have been name 'Shaky'. I cannot say that my faith presently is so strong that it destroys my fear. But I can say that God's grace disallows my fear to destroy my faith. My fear said, "Leave this area"; my faith said, "Trust and stay".
For the longest time, she was known as 'The second city'. But for me, she was and always will be 'My first city'. She is one most beautiful that I once knew. From a teen I lived, learned, and loved her for years just a few. There were times I feared her, but left her not for fear. She robbed but never abused or beat me, but yet I love her still.
A very bold one in character, but she is also on the windy side and cold. Although I left Chicago, the truth is that she remains in my heart and soul.
08022017cjPS