Long Racked Poems
Long Racked Poems. Below are the most popular long Racked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Racked poems by poem length and keyword.
Cuz while ya steel got
moxie, don't nix chance if only a dot
before death finds
flesh rotting alot.
A self-actualized fringe benefit
as I racked up
orbitz round sun -
with increased measured,
(albeit neglected) ragged, and
shot thru tattered (turn shroud) -
regarding chronological yardage
brought to my dimming wattage -
sputtering third eye blind, sans
hindsight surveying extensive
emotionally frenzied groveling with
a lifetime penitential wreckage,
whence urgent critical (update)
foisted upon formerly entrenched
hermetically sealed voyage -
sequestered self wrought fallout,
viz long stretches of
time irretrievably gone with the wind
found me averse toward
commingling with village -
peopled within sin king
precincts of Lake Woebegone
joyus kneaded livingsocial
natives, now visa
vis (nee this past
and present atheist)
discovered the healing power
of powder milk biscuits,
when accommodated within Norwegian
bachelor farmer vicarage),
qua pained obligation now
imposed kickstarted mandate
to pay dying wage
clearly written along,
the sub weighted psyche walls
(over time) easily read
across my wrinkled visage,
where former cumulative
years of existence
pitched yours truly
figuratively teetering upon
precipice of abyss gave vantage
written in telltale creases
countenance spelling umbrage,
against me - asper tonnage
schlepping psychological Matthew
Scott Harris "baggage,"
wrought from decades
worth of uncultivated tillage
cuz n'er did I gather rosebuds...
during prime mortal teenage
stretch, thus present
day agonizing suffrage
yawning chasm miserably houses
bleak (Dickensian) testimony,
sans recovered anorexic
(NO...NOT... NEVER
bulimic), but feebly
endured desultory stage
punctuated quasi (moat)
towed riddled rattle trap ship
of state into deadly scrimmage
defies propped up
moxie succombing unrelenting
weathering, unforgiving savage
nasty, brutal and short sabotage,
wherein futile - short
changed growh opportunities
forfeited developmental stage
opportunities introverted
vehemence doth rage.
...Then working with the government,
who always liked more western cash,
they set up an agreement that
they hoped could contain this backlash.
Two scientists could see the arc,
and work to verify its age,
one from Harvard, and one Cambridge,
and to Axum both made their way.
The American, an old man,
Professor Hammond was name,
the Brit was a young grad student,
named Alice, with a genius brain.
As they settled into their work
neither of the scholars could know
that in neighboring Somalia
an evil man plotted a blow.
He went by the name Ibrahim,
whether it was real, no one knew,
established as a terrorist,
an Islamist, quite tried and true.
He’d built a name in civil wars,
the kind that always racked that place,
made a reputation with force,
he left death, and people displaced.
And though the man gained followers,
he was frustrated by his land,
ruined and lacking resources,
Ibrahim was an ambitious man.
When he heard the arc had been found,
an idea grew up in his mind,
Christians and Jews worshipped the thing,
a route to more money he found.
He took with him one hundred men,
slipped the border, went to Axum,
keeping his people outside town
until shadows of nightfall had come.
Then they attacked St. Mary’s Church,
stormed the building with guns blazing,
killing priests, security guards,
anyone they found resisting.
Quickly they sieved the old relic,
took Alice, Hammond, and four priests,
hostages until they got paid,
at which point they {might" be released.
Chased by police they all fled east,
back into the Somali state,
where they hid amongst the chaos,
where all involved did celebrate.
A scheme pulled on the infidel,
they would now pay to arm their foe!
They had no choice, if they did not
then to hell their relic would go!
Ibrahim put out a message,
a video, as such types do,
demanding millions for the arc,
it was seen by more than a few.
And there was a bunch of chatter,
amongst talking heads on TV,
talking of how such a relic
just found, could soon be history.
Religious types the world over
spoke of how it would be a crime
if such a thing would be destroyed,
the loss of a wonderous find.
All knew some action would come soon,
too many folks were up in arms,
talk of commandos, and or raids,
to Ibrahim it raised alarms...
CONTINUES IN PART III.
Ronald Rump reasonably roasted
Remarkable – recourse retaining rickety
rambling reverence regarding “r.”
Ronald Rump
repugnant racist republican reviled -
rickettsia re:itch ruler.
Rapaciously ravaged
revered reverential rubric.
Radical ruthless renegade
rapidly riotously ripped rigged ramparts.
Refrained retaining remnant
redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
Riches rudely ruptured rooted rectified rights.
Ruckus ricocheted revenant reign.
Ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
Rambunctious rapscallions rollicked;
rendered ruinous ramifications.
Rusty razor razing revenge rented reprisal.
Rabid rectal rictus rotten
rebranded re-calibrated redoubt.
Rambunctious revolutionaries rejoiced.
Ruffians rode roughshod
routing reigning royalty.
Reiterated revetting robust recidivist rationality.
Rode Rolls Royce relentlessly
rendering rock ribbing.
Riffraff raconteur raised reactionary response.
Revisited rancorous restrictive
redlined realigned rightward rivets.
Robocop ridiculously
rubber-stamped reorganization.
Recalcitrant reactors released rapture.
Rash Russian roulette
reconnaissance raconteurs racked rubles.
Red room reflected Republican RNA.
Rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats
revoked righteous refulgent repertory.
Rapier robed robbers ransacked
reliquary resounding retaliation.
Retaliatory redcoat regnum
reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiled rapprochement
raison d'être rosily revered
rifled relics raffled.
Rookie raves ripe rackful
rubenesque reliably ranked.
Refulgent rotundity requisite
requirement re: reappointment.
Road-tested, roadworthy
redeem reapportion routed role.
Reprehensible reassignment
rapidly recognizes response.
Rife rampage removed respectability – respect.
Responsible roused restitution refuted.
Risky resultant reconnoitering
runaway railroad reverberated rivalry.
Reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirmed
redoubling ridding revitalization.
Reconfiguration realpolitik reinstated repudiation
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
Requisition required resilient reseeding republic.
Regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing.
Rare recount restoring recondite
renown reprobate Rapunzel.
Republican representatives
rejoice reclaiming reins.
Conflict
The priest ran
Scared to raise
An ignorant army
On a darkling plain
Loading guns
With dummy
Faith. The froth
Rose arrogantly
In the test
Tube. They heard
Eyes shut and saw
Ears plugged,
Contorted faces
Expecting the explosion
Any moment.
Slowly
Very slowly the froth
Spilled over
Leaving behind—would
The “faithful”believe?—a near
Essence of religion.
I Meet A King
He stood in the middle of the lane,
A toddler in tatters,
Confronting my speeding scooter.
I cursed the nowhere –in-sight,careless mother,
Then shifting gear,
Threatened a mock dash,
Was to him but a big plaything
Come for his pleasure.
The sudden smile over his face
Lit up my heart.
I withdrew a little,
Bowed to his imperial innocence
And humbly went my way.
The Sea Of Truth,Land Of Desire
Daunted by its drowning depths
I sought assurance of the rocks
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly.
Frightened by its flood and froth
I clambered inland hurriedly
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly.
Nerves racked by its wheeling surge
Tried land’s many pleasure groves
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly,
Looking for my roots in glades
Soon was lost among the trees
And the sea – it called me ceaselessly.
On the beach I sat once off my guard
When the sea crept near me silently
And the sea – it licked me lovingly.
That moment joy and fear were one
My visions did a somersault
And the sea – it soaked me ceaselessly.
Sea’s mercy makes the inland rich
Sea’s magic makes the sunset glow
And the sea – it gives us ceaselessly.
O thou formless yet unfailing sea
My very own though boundless sea
In turmoil O thou tranquil sea !
I have learnt the timings of the tide
And make obeisance to the waves
For the sea now thrills me ceaselessly.
How l would to love to leave the shore
And whale-like wallow in the sea
For the sea – it thrills me ceaselessly.
But awed by its mysterious depths
I still sometimes walk the earth
But the sea –it loves me ceaselessly.
Child How Innocent!Lord’s Delight
Crawling,toddling,frolicking sight,
Playing,lisping,smiling bright,
,Eating,drinking,gaining height
Alive all day,dead at night,
Present gaiety future might,
Nothing bothered wrong or right.
Child! How innocent,Lord’s delight,
Gift from Heaven trailing light.
---------------*-----------*-------- *----------* ---------
(Part One) The first few hours.
I was just a ordinary man
caught up in the unruly throng,
The mob jeering and ranting
insults on the road along,
I pushed and shoved my way
through all the furore
to see what all the fuss and melee
was all about at the fore.
My heart shrunk as I eyed
in total dismay that ghastly sight,
From what befell my eyes, that Friday morn
befouling that dawning day with blight,
Was a Man sparsely clad, and bloodied soiled,
And about fifteen and a half hands tall,
His nut brown shoulder length hair
now caked and matted in disarray.
The way His hair and beard
was parted in the middle down
i knew that Man then
was belonging to the Nazarene Sect,
And brutally entwined upon His head
was a brambled thorny crown,
What more torturous and bestial
torment can a naked body be subject,
His body oozed and dripped sweat
all mixed with blood and grime,
And even more the gruesome
was the criss-cross lashes mark,
So visible, as He staggered along
on that arduous path that morning time,
Dragging a fifteen cubit long sycamore
torture-stake on His shoulder, bared stark.
His back bent and racked in obvious pain
bearing that one and a half hand in diameter log,
Then when, He stumbled in His stride
and before the Roman Centurion Him wanted to flog,
For that Man's wretched agony
and pain, I no longer could bear to stand,
Then in haste that Man to help
I shed my outer garments and tossed it to another man,
I stayed the Centurion's hand
and hoisted that stake upon my own broad back,
For I was Simon an Grecian man from Cyrene
and favoured arduous labourous toil,
When that frail worn-out Man turned
with blue-grey eyes and looked at me,
I saw in that look, relief and gratitude
then I knew, I did just right,
He sadly smiled as He said these words to me,
"Do you too now drink from this bitter cup?",
And added, "You shall indeed sip
its rim with Me to the end of time",
I knew Him then no ordinary, man could be
His voice so gentle and mild,
And I truly then wandered who this Man could be?
to suffer so cruelly, in the hands of man,
When He lightly placed His hand
upon my shoulder, I felt the load lightened,
as if I walked with a feather
on my back, and not His gruesome burden no more,
As we together trudged, on that path
that road, to Calvaria, that place of death,
I then knew that Man at my side
Was a Holy-man by His touch alone.
Like a tumbleweed aimlessly blowing in the wind
across infinitely open and wide prairie home companion land
(which wasteland famously epitomized by T.S. Elliot)
a barren vista ravages metaphorical landscape
of one measly mortal malcontent male
bumping and scraping along accursed habiliment
just barely avoiding and dodging diabolical demons
mercilessly and unrelentingly ready
to seduce this somewhat sanguine Simian
who finds himself amidst the pitfalls
of a tortured and twisted existence
racked with pinions describe bing
a demonic dragon filled dungeon
damp, dark, demented domains –
a veritable no man’s land
impossible to escape no matter how fast I -
as a foo fighter flee
from the fearful, fierce-some phantasmagoric forms
figments of my imagination seemingly real
tangible as bone and flesh
who haunt sacred crowded house of slumber
transmogrify me into a loathsome madman
ranting raving senseless gibberish and sic gobbledygook
perceived as metaphysically n philosophically insane
as soundgarden syllabification
from one womanly World Wide Web wayfarer
which virtual vagabond venerates vowels
and possesses means and tees to till verse
akin to a sorceress who waves a magic wand
to produce supreme sentences
weaves tantalizing terrific tweed topographic tundra’s
that this admirer of her artful and colorful poetic endeavors
prompts me to accompany my mindscape
as a thought-provoking troubadour
amidst the information super byways and highways
along winding labyrinths of critical thinking
or simply stepping o'er rolling stones
of silly rhymes without wing less reason
all the while giving subtle egress
into that chamber of secrets
long kept shut tight to maintain
that sure footed stance of solitude
whose only entities happened
to constitute trappings of literary lugubriousness
those tombs of largesse identified
as great works and masterpieces of literature
yet careful to avoid complete intimacy
lest that cherished solitude shattered
and a heart rent asunder
twin tower ring inferno imp perils of loss that provide
an understandable cautionary tale
to the author of this rambling missive
a most profoundly perceptive acute Ape man
touched to the quick with a bit of angel dust
aware that this agonized and angst riddled arboreal beast
contents himself with the confines of cyberspace!
Golden leaves transcend autumns harvest, contrasted by
Blazoned reds burnt offerings of summers final sacrifice to
The changing of the seasons, oh what a palette of magnificence,
Is nature set to the rheum of our universe!
In the chilling winds of falls grace, does the very breathe of
Winter chase, swooping and swaying through the branches
Of destiny thus to cometh forward, tenderly the trees do cry
Shedding their tears of color airy, brown to tan!
Racked piles of gathered teardrops, lain upon the lawns of
Evergreen yards, that are capture within the freezing breath
Of seasonal appease, for soon nature shall rest at ease, in
A blissful sleep, until awoken by springs warming whispering!
Rainbows harvest of autumn is this Kalightoscope of coloring,
A showering cascade descending in sheer brilliance reflecting
In the bitter sunshine of falls rebirthing, and the simple poet stands
Completely at awe, beneath these limbs of natural beauty,
Left alone to ponder the wonder he’s beholding!
Crushing footsteps smash against the idle puddle, containing
A single leaf trees sacrifice, the forget-me-knots remembrance
Of the summer gone past, and the winters fiery hearth of promise
To come, what a blazing embers of shadow to contrast, to a dreamer
Suddenly awakening from hibernation's spent sleep of illusions,
Now walking in a golden light of this autumn shower of the reflected!
Clinging do the lovers of this timeless season, bathing within their
Gaze lost amongst these trees of beauty, strolling along the lanes of
Passions unforgettable moments, photo impressions memorized in
The human thoughts album, forever to remain untarnished by age!
In the fields the farmer puts his tools of trade to rest at last,
Gathering prides harvest unto him one by one smiling,
He’ll warm himself by the flames of family and tradition,
Until the toiling begins next spring, the man shall sits at ease
At the hearth of hard works fire, as the leaves of autumn fall!
Let the dreaming poet write, allow the lovers to stroll undisbursed,
And the harvester to rest his weary brow at last, for the golden
Leaves of autumn are falling, cascading unto the evergreen lawns,
Gathered together into the piles of leafy teardrops, of summer
Forget-me-knots!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Happy National Friendship Day - August 6th, 2023
The idea of Friendship Day originated
in the United States in 1919,
proposed by Joyce Hall,
the founder of Hallmark cards.
It gained official recognition
when the U.S. Congress
proclaimed the first Sunday
of August as National Friendship Day in 1935.
Unlike this papa akin
to being racked, raided,
and raked with hot coals
during his adolescence devoid of
a social network and academic goals
if possible to magnify
psyche, one would see
mostly a torn (Turin) shred of holes.
Thy youngest (of deux) daughters
afflicted with developmental delay
did not overtly agitate
as much as myself, asper being
emotionally isolated, a miserable fate,
she participated with
supportive services how grate
full (this once psychologically dead papa),
progeny of his did not experience
chronic severe hate
Shana (Punim) blessed by fate
while a Lower Merion
High School student did great
fully experienced positive
munificent interpersonal bounty,
she didst illustrate
with smiles all around her countenance,
which sophomore socialization better late
than never, which friendlessness
(that didst plague this papa),
thee progeny didst obviate
thus, this poem
(to no one in particular),
expresses how I appreciate
the plethora of supportive
services, to ameliorate
bugaboo sans inferiority complex,
(ran rampant within self)
where mine imaginary
pals did commiserate
nevertheless, aye envy thine
woefully begotten Harris heiresses,
whose self esteem positively
of mine bolstered,
when as little girls
their needs and wants gave me purpose
ensure ring a confidential boost,
and now doth demonstrate
how remedial, and extracurricular activities
during and after class respectively,
combatted cognitive delay,
warding off bullies,
who did grate, humiliate
and interrogate, this middle aged
(he's a jolly good) fellow,
Johnny come late
lee to the "NON FAKE"
thrown into game of life
changing strengthened soul asylum
primary, secondary, and tertiary grades
where whipsawed,
pejoratively emasculated, jackknifed,
oppressed, traumatized, and yoked
hoary golem, unstintingly
bruiting, browbeating
and bamboozling gremlins
wrought zealous destruction.
Turned on the TV to see what they'd say
There's crowds in the streets all around the UK
Shelves being ransacked at Tesco all day
It's happening too in the U S of A
My TV depicting an end, clearly near
With Donald Trump there and Brexit right here
Then back to the masses, although it’s unclear
Whether it's panic or madness or fear
They're showing us scenes of emptying shelves
With mobs going frantic, all out for themselves
TVs get lifted from where they were racked
It's easy to see that society's cracked
Hoarders are scooping up baked beans and bread
Brand names all gone, own label instead
'Food for my family', is what one said
'I've got to provide for fear they'd be dead’
Coffee and alcohol, biscuits and cakes
Sausages, burgers, bacon and steaks
Folk grab at board games with ladders and snakes
And luxury watches, both real ones and fakes
And now the news treats us to Donald Trump's face
He's saying he's set for a nuclear race
He's gonna build brick walls all over the place
Cos the US is full and there ain't no more space
So they're panicking far and they're panicking near
The whole of the western hemisphere
The Ruskies have nukes and they're all pointing here
It seems that the mobs are in justified fear
Then back to the markets and bustling streets
Shopping bags bulging with with copious eats
Vegetables, fruit and myriad meats
All crammed into car boots and on the back seats.
Now we view traffic jammed up standing still
Ambulance racing to someone who's Ill
Drivers attempting to show some goodwill
No room to manoeuvre though sirens are shrill
Then back to the clambering hands and shelves bare
Frantic swipes reach for the last items there
Desperate housewives all pulling out hair
Their trollies still holding a square inch of air
As fighting breaks out in aisle number eight
Some fellow bought milk... An entire crate
But what made the other bloke really irate?
The last crate was grabbed by the first bloke's mate
I turn in shame from my TV
Can't bare to see the things I see
Where once we had humanity
This war has brought depravity
But as I turn, the room to leave
I hear the words I can't believe
Do my eyes and ears deceive?
This is not war... It's Christmas Eve
I know you know what happened the year we graduated. Just like everything else, it trickled down the grape vine. We were seniors when SHE said she wanted a blue dress for prom. SHE wanted to teach disabled children, an aspiration that came from her love for a baby cousin who had cerebral palsy. SHE and I had art class together our seats adjacent to each other. Her poorly done imitation of a Frida Khalo masterpiece was praised for the effort behind it. That morning I was on my way to school, I had seen a picture of her on facebook from the night before. SHE had attended fright fest, and looked like she had an incredible time. I was on the bus during my morning commute when I saw her on again off again boyfriend. He and I were practically strangers, but I could see he was having a rough day. He had bags under his eyes, ‘probably one of those off times’, I thought. During my first period class SHE hadn't come in yet, probably getting breakfast. My principal called a senior meeting on the loud speakers, the girl next to me rolled her eyes while applying a third layer of lip gloss and mentioned something about senior dues. I sighed as I stood up, as if the world were on my shoulders. I made my way to the auditorium, losing my cohort on the way down. I slouched in the back of the auditorium with my baggy hoodie pulled up to hide my face,I felt myself nodding off. I was always sleepy, and tired of something. “Alyssa committed suicide over the weekend.” I felt a shock come over me, my tears fell as sobs racked my body and the loudest silence overtook my mind. SHE had committed suicide. SHE who had wanted a blue dress, SHE who had gone to fright fest the night before in a green hoodie and posted a smiling photo on facebook.SHE was graduating in less than 7 months and had only lived sixteen years. SHE had easily become a WAS. SHE was the wails that bounced on the walls of the pink girl's bathroom months after it happened, SHE was the boy screaming in the hallway during my math class for her to come back. Eventually SHE was just an auditorium in silence while her parents walked across the stage for her, and the graduating class drowned in their tears. SHE was just a folded cap and gown and a middle school photo in a high school yearbook.