Long Prompting Poems
Long Prompting Poems. Below are the most popular long Prompting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Prompting poems by poem length and keyword.
Dem Tiff Our Pikin
Child Trafficking
Her echoing screams
pierced the night
unreeling an impending woe
rousing every slumbering soul
prompting a sudden madness
The other sits then strains
looking out with earnest yearnings
scarcely seeing the distance
streaming out the tears
remembering many sorrows
as she recounts her story
This one grows weary
as her mind wanders off
overly flustered
by the seemly misty dust
stirred by roaming feet
scantily clothed
barely holding on
bemused by this troubling reality
grasping weakly
to her unbroken will
The other held on to fate
even as she alter her faith
squatting with a furrowed face
staring blankly at the beaming sun
regurgitating their last words
visualizing her lost world
This poem is inspired by Jeff Ripple's painting titled 'Stormy Weather'. You can find the link to the painting at the bottom of the page, and there is also an image of the painting uploaded with the poem. It is recommended you view the artwork while reading the poem for a better experience.
8th place brian contest winner
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zephyr fluxes goose bumps jittering across my flesh
Tempestuous weather looms on the wide horizon
avaricious storm intends to embezzle this nautical day
jeopardizing ritual of sun worship, prompting a solemn orison
gloomy shades interweave, enclosing glittering white clouds
vibrant azure iridescence fades into opaque hue spawning dour sky
peerless panoramic plug, thunder rumbling from nirvana
impregnable dimness hurriedly eclipses the brightness
Persistent tremors induce serene waters to wiggle
unceasing wails of celestial hosts cascade from bleak air
Natural forces unleash tremendous terrifying turmoil
wielding imperium forces to ensure their obedient yielding
Imposing coniferous Emerald reigns over dimmed scenery
quaint dwellings foster an alluring air, drawing their audience
tumultuous weather indelibly etched in oil glaze on linen
'Stormy Weather' by Jeff Ripple; his unique insight memorialized
winterparkpaintout.org/paint-out-archives-2015/
McGee walked in the pub
When he saw ole' Finn
Just sitting there, bottle in hand
Then he noticed the bandage
Wrapped 'round his foot
And said "what happened to you
my dear man"
Finn was reluctant at first, to give way
But when McGee sat down, Finn explained
"Remember last week when the wind, how it howled
and the horrendous pounding of the rain"
McGee nodded gently, prompting Finn to proceed
Acknowledging it was a wee billow
"You know McGee, how I sleep at night,
With a gun right under me pillow"
"I awoke that night to a noise I thought
was coming from the foot of me bed
So, I pulled out me gun and shot off me toe"
McGee with a smile then said
'Tis a good thing you were sleeping that way
and not the other way 'round
You could have been dead, with a shot to the head
when eventually your body was found
CONSEQUENCES
ephemeral
plumes
drifts across
a flaming
sky
in
an
aimless
gentility
degenerates
into
ostentatious
still life
of
wilting
concerns
populated
by
undermined
ironies
that
rings hollow
absurd
vagueness
of the
unknown
derivatives
ingeniously
fashioned
consequential
&
embellished
but
balanced
with endless
insights
prompting
a
nimbus of
ingrained
exceptions
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
We relate to God
with surface depth...
thus remaining
profoundly distant
from the unlimited breadth
and scope of spirit...
when wrongly considering,
we confound immortal, never sleeping,
unchangeable Divine Presence
with the ever-ephemeral, retiring
superficial nature of our physical bodies—
(the mesmerizing entrapment
of our eye-candy)
Though Spirit is not
separate from obvious matter,
as the earth has its wealth of star
(life giving warmth we absorb
automatically) too often
the relationship is less than
literally complimentary,
outer bodies hardly an accurate reflection of
the purest nature of our First-cause
(God The Perfect)…
We consciously avoid
the deeper interior,
where Truth flashes
(like a Time’s Square Marquee
on a Saturday’s Evening);
overtly chasing our hearts
from Spiritual reality
when Right conflicts with
personal ego…prompting us
to run toward the far more controllable
exterior—easier to make-over
a human body (Hell! We have pills for that
nowadays)—for even semi-enlightened
scientists are at a loss, when it comes to the
soul (no definitive substance to God in a
universe of man-made illusion).
Dark purple lips and nails moving slowly on the wall with thick red blood stain on the surface, something must have happened there because people were gathering from far and near to find out what had transpired over there; some were whispering, others were chatting and bulging eyes were popping from the sky and I watched the universe slowly moved by.
Something is pounding in the deep that keeps disrupting my nightly sleep; I kept hearing the rattling sound coming from the basement beneath the ground, it’s as if someone was buried in the concrete and struggling each minute to stay alive but the sound kept shouting from the ground and I struggled immensely to wake from my sleep.
The crowd began to swell and the voices began to spread, the knocking gets louder and human voices broke through the ground, prompting a sharp response from everyone that gathers around.
From sticks and stones and metals in the ground they carefully remove every particle until they finally dug me out of the ground, I am still alive but my soul began to cry, and I reached out and touch the hands that rescue me from the deep.
My body was shaking and my heart was beating and the people that brought me from the deep were rejoicing at the unimaginable rescue and I felt that special touch that was different from everything I knew and my spirit suddenly came alive and I finally opened my eyes and I saw you in the shadows with tears streaming from your face and that special seal was all over you.
Shocking ... really shocking!
That's my blood
splatter on the floor!
My vital-life-juice,
spilling over my eyelid,
clumping my long lashes
tracing my sad cheek
into the side crack
of my lips prompting
my tongue to stick out
to investigate, tasting
sweet zincky blood
about to drip off
my quivering chin.
So unbelievable,
in your hand, a
shiny shard of glass
ready to strike like
a vicious viper again.
Woman,
why did you hurt me...
split my skin open,
gouge me with glass.
Are you compos mentis?
Clearly not!
Just a spiteful, bitter
evil woman
ravaged with hate
so blinded by the fact,
I'm just an innocent kid.
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian
puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,
parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements
projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,
polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial
principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball
players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote
phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
Ephemeral social media rendezvous
"Abort, Retry, Fail?"
(or "Abort, Retry, Ignore?")
essentially spells does not compute
in bobbing spongy mindscape
of your friendly martian
donned with square pants,
when he experiences unresponsiveness
from *****sapiens
whose interpersonal offline etiquette
indicative as if yours truly
hailed from an alien nation,
yet said earthlings take objection
if their overture not acknowledged
to him/her, whereby he/she
exhibits vituperative ranting and raving
prompting me to speculate double standard
beholden courtesy egocentric species,
especially when attempts
to subscribe to netiquette
yields disastrous results
hashtagging me as deplorable basket case.
Linkedin thru tenuous
webbed world wide
electronic thread defied
no matter flurry of emails/
messages exchanged flattery applied
courtesy transient online
tête à tête downside
cyber venue offers convenient exit
personal aversion, I chide
brevity figurative thorn in side
futile effort Androcles tried
I haint lion, familiarization denied
fledgling cyber acquaintanceships
dead on the vine, yours truly sighed
potential friendship never fortified,
cuz immediate value judgement cast,
instantaneously prejudiced aversion
perhaps hidden agenda implied
maybe intimated illusions of grandeur
netiquette nuances overstepped, I chide
yours truly vouchsafe
absolute zero great expectation
love smitten wounds pride,
the Italian girl in Algiers
inchoate mystique forever unknown
nonetheless fantasize bartered bride
figment of overactive imagination
hence grist for poetry mill
grateful fleeting rapport tried
to take flight before sputtering
doomed to dustbin of history (mine)
filed within memory as template guide
against future unnecessary disappointment
best stick to your guns abide
against infatuation lest
conjured lass doth override
focus on reality no matter who espied
Facebook post, tis foolhardy
to allow, enable, and provide leeway,
hence aimless thoughts elide
dear boy, ya never learned always denied
rapture becoming ensnared
noose sense and sensibility stride
ding blindly, dumbly, foolishly...,
into own perilous entrapment, verstehen?
Slow and methodical
thru telling material I tiresomely did wade
steeping yours truly signature
writing stock in trade
while sprawled out on bed housed within
one bedroom apartment (B44)
Highland Manor Apartments
(situated in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
owned by Grosse and Quade),
one of the largest residential
property management firms in this area.
Analogous to basking robin luxuriating
within his/her medium of taster's choice,
I experience with exultant and exuberant
express within poetic quasi-motto rejoice.
Book learning brings me tremendous delight,
whereby my mind soars to immense height
despite eyes forced to shut courtesy blinding light,
nevertheless joie de vivre prevails gleaning
precious nuggets of knowledge to ease
penurious and precarious penniless plight
prompting provocative dreams tonight.
Figurative meaty tender vittle morsels
temporarily appease appetite
dentures no drawback into juicy tidbits to bite
impossible mission countless passages to cite
each page chock full
food for thought delight
either factual or fictitious
voluminous tome doth excite
buzzfeeding Dharma bums' fanciful flight
occasionally curiosity finds him (me)
scrutinizing mind boggling gametophyte
phase regarding plants,
(the dominant form in bryophytes -
mosses and liverworts -
reproduce by means of spores
released from capsules),
less familiar to most people, I highlight
smattering botanical information insight
nsync with tidbit
about mineralogy namely jacobsite,
a black magnetic
isometric mineral MnFe2O4.
Fifty plus shades of gray matter (mine)
undergoing voluntary torturous subjection
i.e. stoking, perusing, and manhandling
a heavy (Sisyphean) subject matter
(honest to dogs' truth),
I Kant understand a single word!