Long Query Poems
Long Query Poems. Below are the most popular long Query by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Query poems by poem length and keyword.
Truth has a way
To greet fond spell;
Beauty flowers
~~~~~~~~~
Magic moments
Joy in sweet smiles;
Floral bright blooms
~~~~~~~~~
Cheer comes to call
Another milestone;
Change brings memories
~~~~~~~~~
Touch of delight
Frosted cream cheese;
Lemon zest cake
~~~~~~~~~
Cocoa ecstasy
Chocolate ganache cake;
Heavenly bliss
~~~~~~~~~
Espresso moment
Caffeine swirl;
Fragrant brown brew
~~~~~~~~~
Old news vendor
Weathered street stall;
Sleepy fatigue droops
~~~~~~~~~
Playground chatter
Maids on parade;
Child care commotion
~~~~~~~~~
One year now
Death anniversary;
We miss you
~~~~~~~~~
Precious moments
Still figurines speak;
Lovely silence swirls
~~~~~~~~~
Old man sits
Alone by this walkway;
Wanders about
~~~~~~~~~
Barely two
Curious Eurasian boy;
Darting eyes query
~~~~~~~~~
April moon glow
Humid dry heat;
Touching tangent
~~~~~~~~~
My darling sleeps
Murmurs and smiles;
Sweet dreams percolate
~~~~~~~~~
Crazy overtones
Squirrel racing zigzag;
Massive tree trunk tracks
~~~~~~~~~
Sit still now
Word fragments arrive;
Haiku sojourn
~~~~~~~~~
Piece by piece
Part by part;
Soul stirrings sum
~~~~~~~~~
Two retired souls
Mundane humdrum;
Afternoon matinee
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
24 April 2016
Singapore
~~Hyper Suggestion~~
I went to the doctors just the other day
It was just for a check up, that’s all I can say
I sat in the waiting room waiting my turn
The magazines were still ten years old so nothing new to learn.
I looked at and started to read the notice board
I noticed the posters with diseases -and they struck a chord
Could you have bowel cancer the first one did query?
Is your poo loose or do you go more often, if so there’s a theory
You might have bowel cancer, check your poo for blood
How nice! I scanned another poster quickly while I could.
Obesity could this be you?
It causes heart disease, diabetes and cancer too.
My eyes scanned the board for something else to read
Ladies have you got ovarian cancer? These signs you must heed
Do you feel full after just a little food?
Do you feel bloated and not at all in the mood?
The bell went my turn had come, I walked through the door
Good morning said the doctor what are you here for?
Well I’ve come for my check up but just before you start
I’ve read all you posters and there may be something wrong with my heart
I turned up for my checkup but after reading twenty one symptoms-and there were more
I now find I’m in here and I have twenty four.
Childbirth, so worth the cost.
Pictures of loved ones you have lost.
Pen, honestly, poet,no matter the cost!
Your garland of truth, glistens wonderfully upon your head.
You may be despised, but if not
genuine, you may as well be dead.
Bright stars surround a true spirit!
The plastic masses will see nothing in it.
Don't, worry, they are lost sheep-lings..
Born or raised to never get it!?
Fancy poetry is just empty space.
To impress, to win trophies with grace!
Behind them, I query, where is the real face?
"Here, let me impress you with a Sestina," said Paul.
I told him, I was not impressed at all
I asked him, "Can you be real at all?"
We went out and just genuinely laughed!
At each other's infantile poetry gaffes.
Then ordered a second, steaming coffee carafe.
Being real, is all,don't you see?
Sharing your true heart with humanity.
Anything else is but a tragic case of self-idolatry.
There is no reward for being real.
No headlines will you ever steal.
Go, now poet and pen only what you deeply feel!!
1/14/2021
~4~
Sing for me
A Song
... A song of hope!
Sing for me
A song
... Different from this
Which I hear
everyday!
What song do I hear
On a daily basis?
You query...
... I hear
A Song of pain
A Song of bondage
A Song of anarchy
A Song of deceit
A Song of fear
A Song of hunger
And Songs...
Of POVERTY!!!
Songs of poverty
Amidst plenty...
Songs of the poor
Amidst the rich.
songs whose tunes
turns a man to a goat
songs whose tunes
makes the husband's
sigh
seem to you like the
belated bleating of a
hungry goat
albeit the piercing
moo
of a cow
hit by the fulani's
staff...
The same song
Whose tunes turns
the
Woman to a hen.
She asks her sighing
husband
The reason for his
sigh
But because she is
hit
By the same bullet
She clucks like a hen
Hot in heat!
Can anybody sing to
me?
...A song of hope.
A song which will
Ease the pain of my
people...
...A song of hope.
A song which will
Ease the burning in
my heart...
...A song of hope.
A song which will
Bring salvation to my
kindred...
...A song of hope.
A song which will
Bring smiles to our
smileless faces...
Is there any
Out there with such
a song?
If there is...
Let (s)he come fast
and furious
With the songs
Accompaniments let
him bother not
About. Lots of them
have we!
Just come
Come along to us
With the song.
Ready are we
With instruments
And vocals.
Just come
To sing for us
... A song of hope!!!
Gray shrouds cover my way
sets the tone for the day.
Our silent sun sends
rays running round corners
slowly beams burn off -
melting morning misty mind.
As I tread these stone slabs
rapt in wonder of this awe,
great stone bones in it all.
Metropolis makes stirring sounds
anxiously awakens around me.
Rails screech like prehistoric birds,
wind whistles through tunnels twirling,
chatter and honks and hums.
Hear humanities' street symphony.
Parkways sever city canyons.
I cross white striped asphalt rivers,
pass primal Ponderosa stone spires.
Wary walls of glassy eyes glare at me.
Watch my droll daily drudge passively
through towering hollow statues.
I arrive to hug my office door,
seeking some soulful signal.
This inner city, my sentimental friend:
now I'm fearful this soon will end.
Put my face flush on its stone skin,
felt a mounting tear in my eye,
trickled out down between,
turned my head to kiss its skin.
Felt raspy, tasted of grit.
Like kissing a corpse.
Then pulled back and looked up
its everstill edifice to the sky.
Poses the query who am I?
And there I stood a while and thought.
How can we be one?
How can it be me?
Color Pencil illustration G. Gaul
Free Verse Philosophical look at inanimate
stone city structures and the
universal concept of oneness.
11/17/2019
Evening cicadas
Cacophony climax;
Night time music
~~~~~~~~~
By this playground
Noisy frolic parades;
Little feet gather
~~~~~~~~~
Haiku moment:
Brief promontory,
Dragonfly buzz
~~~~~~~~~
Raining non-stop
Wet moments splash;
Umbrella parade
~~~~~~~~~
Aqueous verses
Heavy pieces drowning;
Pouring rain recites
~~~~~~~~~
Walkway cobblestones
Busy footfalls conspire;
Old man ponders
~~~~~~~~~
Odd faces
Cellphone conversations;
Bus-stop queue
~~~~~~~~~
Gone away
Cannes vacation;
Stopover at Nice
~~~~~~~~~
Fruit serenade
Plate ready-to-eat;
Delicious desserts
~~~~~~~~~
Dazzling confections
Sensuous delights;
Ice cream scoops
~~~~~~~~~
Dangerous curves
Sculptures of art;
Calligraphy unfurls
~~~~~~~~~
Beauty walks by
Curious eyes watch;
Attraction sizzles
~~~~~~~~~
Midnight buzz
Moon hiatus;
Darkness greets raindrops
~~~~~~~~~
House hunting
Viewing prospects;
Curious query judges
~~~~~~~~~
Glimpses here
In a new light;
Dawn brings gifts
~~~~~~~~~
By my bay window
A grand view;
City lights tell
~~~~~~~~~
Cheer cascades
House warming party;
Hope wears well
~~~~~~~~~
Poignant posture
Mindful moments move;
Stretching sway slants
~~~~~~~~~
Yoga trance
Body dance rituals;
Graceful ecstasy
~~~~~~~~~
If you must ask
The master said;
You do not know
~~~~~~~~~
Plain words tell
Potent fragments;
Haiku presence
~~~~~~~~~
Dynamic
Plain telling sculpts;
Balance firms form
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
21 September 2017
Singapore
FAIR IS FAIR
YOU PULL OUT MY CHAIR
I TUCK YOUR NAPKIN
OUR THOUGHTS WE SHARE
FAIR IS FAIR
EXCEPT IS IT NOT
MY QUERY YOU SHOT
QUESTIONS DONT STOP
A FOUND AMUSEMENT
THAT I AM THE BLACK KETTLE CRITICISED HYPACROSISY
YOU ARE THE POT
DISTURBING
Last night at the witching hour,
I was woken from a dream
By the sound of ghostly howling
And a shrill primaeval scream.
I opened one eye cautiously
And there above my bed,
A saw an apparition
That filled me full of dread.
It hovered for a moment,
Then flew around the room,
Muttering incantations,
A harbinger of gloom.
The wardrobe door was slamming,
The light flashed off and on.
The curtains billowed in the wind.
I cried out, “Please be gone.
“Oh, all right,” said the spectre,
With a disappointed sigh.
Then it flew out of the window
And up into the sky.
I nearly used an expletive,
But I never use that word.
So I used initials only
To query what had occurred
Written: November 14, 2023 For Robert James Liguori
_____________________________________
Sitting in my comfy chair with my injured knees
Insouciant spent time alone with my disease.
In which my companion bade me farewell.
To hoard a spot for me in her paradise dwell.
Dreams I had as a child flooded my mind.
Eat, study, and play without anguish or grind.
Being older never induced a query.
Neither did I pursue my parents' theory.
My languor body is ripe and showing its age.
It subsists, yet I witness a lassitude page.
In a mirror, I view a mellifluous, sketchy shape.
Upon the eyes of a child, struggle to escape.
I used to be a ring, all brilliant and smooth.
I slid through the night's lightning and sleuth.
Casting jovial rays in a haphazard course
While vestigial bellows heralded each source.
In this woebegone life, age, and frailty show.
As lichen cypress, we sway, graying, and slow.
We admit amorphous days to be a ripe apple.
Progeria grip pushes youth to grapple.
once robust and blooming stems of youth.
We aquiver to mellow, writhe, and cough.
Our eyes bore witness to the events of life.
The exquisite scene is a symphony of strife.
A sunken summer reveals a winter of fading light.
And the gossamers will be wilting before sight.
And the blithely petals will shortly wither away.
In a broken bucket, once balmy blooms display.
Existence is jam-packed with such deadly traps,
You would wonder why its Author made it so;
You never are sure and ever live on borrowed time
For its turns may any time deal you a terminal blow.
You breathe when you find you can,
And will not be there to raise a query
Regarding your untimely and unfair decease,
When short it’s cut your mortal merry.
You suffer and cry when you have a tear,
And still get more of the dreaded stuff;
You make new resolves but your will is weak
And so you forget them all in a huff.
You know the way you should go
But your legs are light and easy to tempt,
So you end up taking the wrong course
And end up ruing the resolutions unkept.
If a believer, you increase your bootless prayers
And hope that someone up there will hear your cry,
But find your very woes increasing day after day
Till you accept your immutable plight and cease to try.
Whether blind rich or church-mouse poor, every man has his woes;
The poor man is ever crying over all the possible opportunities lost,
The young will always have to contend unfulfilled infatuations,
And the millionaire will ever bawl over a business deal unclosed.
So rather than file on through the shortened pages of time,
Men should spurn all the care and feel happy throughout;
In plenty and in dearth, in love and in hate –
For why invest in care and still have to doubt?