Long Rankings Poems
Long Rankings Poems. Below are the most popular long Rankings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rankings poems by poem length and keyword.
Ted liked to ride the rodeo,
it made him feel alive inside,
but he never had that much luck
taking bulls on eight-second rides.
He wanted to reign like his friends,
take home some of the prize money,
so he doubled-down and he placed,
made the top three regularly.
Still, he did not top the rankings,
dnd he was not so pleased with that,
until the day a small cowboy
came to ask for Ted’s autograph.
Stunned at the sheer admiration
in the eyes of that tyke tow-head,
Ted supposed that he should be glad,
not many men bat .300.
Pedro had a gift for making sales,
he could sell sand to desert states,
was going for a big bonus,
the money he could almost taste.
But it went to a co-worker,
who had notched up just two more sales,
Pedro went home in a foul mood,
to his girlfriend, and he railed.
Until he heard a phone message,
fe brother Juan had been let go
from his baseline clerical job,
he he’d survive, he didn’t know.
Juan had barely made thirty K,
so Pedro could no longer see red,
and thanked God he still had the chance
to go out and hit .300.
Chen was said to be the smartest
person in all of his high school,
the kind of knowledge that made all
of his teachers appear to be fools.
At the Physics Olympiad
he thought he’d be regional best,
but Chen’s ego was smashed that day,
he only came in second-best.
You have to see a geek enraged
to appreciated it fully,
then getting fast-food driving home,
Chen ran into his old bully!
The job had truly beaten him down,
and later when Chen went to bed,
he felt quite thankful that his mind
was able to bat .300...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
It was the time when art was king,
Of artists whose praises we all sing.
Great minds there were in the Renaissance,
Through eons , unsurpassed, with little advance.
Greatness was embodied in the works of art,
In Lorenzo's gardens did Michelangelo start.
But great there was one of Mona Lisa fame,
Master painter, inventor - Leonardo his name.
Contemporaries for sure, one really wonders
Of the two, whose work steals the thunders.
David, the Pieta, Sistine Chapel, and more
Everlasting they are through ages sure.
But then there's the Lisa, Last Supper, inventions galore.
On their ingenuity and genius, the world lays great store.
Can genius be bestowed in multiple men?
Can peace and tranquility be shared even then?
Can two kings sit and reign on one throne?
Or squabble and fight like two dogs with one bone?
And so, these men of unparallel fame
Were set by chance a mischievous game.
Asked they were to adorn the Council Hall
With paintings to settle rankings once and for all.
With gusto did the two set about
A Battle each to prove their clout.
Leonardo chose the battle of Anghiari;
Battle of Cascina was Michelangelo's quarry.
Great was the strife between the two,
Each strove hard for the other to outdo.
Of the rivalry ,I heard, - the worst of all,
Art was the victim - and the two took a fall.
Relates the great chronicler Vasari,Giorgio,
That the nadir of art was seen in the Palazzo Vecchio
As each of the greats thought little of their craft
But dallied and diddled, till the populace all laughed.
The Cascina on naked bathing soldiers was based
On the banks of the Arno it was placed.
But the scene that was rendered was so ludicrous
That his work, sadly, bordered on the ridiculous.
Leonardo's Anghiari was a shade grim
But his chances to greatness was very slim.
He used oils from Pliny the Elder's recipe
But soon these flaked , were smudgy, and drippy.
Be that as it may
To Art's great dismay
What should have been great works
Were diminished by Rivalry's quirks.
Vasari painted over these objets de art
And replaced these with his own from the start.
Now conservators do scan, to see if they can,
Which of the two, Leonardo or Michelangelo, was
The painter of the elusive Magnum Opus.
~18 Jun 2016~
ANGELS
Giant winged man found in many various religion;
Zoroastrianism, angels depicted benevolent celestial beings;
Angels, angels my thologies in Abrahamic religions;
Angels, angels whom do you believe what you are seeing;
Angels
Who act as intermediaries between God and Heaven;
Other roles of angels protecting and guiding human beings;
Carrying out God's tasks religions, angels within Abrahamic;
Angels, angels ahh!, yes I do believe in them;
Are often organized into hierarchies;
Angels, angels given specific names or titles like these;
Such rankings vary between sects in each religions;
Such as Gabriel, Micheal or "Destroying angel" flees
"Angel" expanded to various notions of spirits;
Angels figures found in other religious traditions;
Angels closed to God and man close so near it;
Angels theological study of angels is known as "angelology" conditions;
Angels who were expelled from Heaven are referred to as fallen angels;
Angels In fine art depicted as having shapes of human extraordinary beauty;
Angels, angel they are often identified using the symbols
Language of men angels bilingual;
Of bird wings, halos and light;
Alas these are the angels of God and Christ;
8/05/18
©2018
For New Rhyming Poems On Angels Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Video killed the Radiostar
They said.
Have Contests killed Creativity?
Not really!
Venting wonderful words as they flow
Is nice;
But where's the craftsmanship and the art
In it?
So now you write on stimulus, prods,
Of gods?
To write this way, think thusly, and such;
Their way?
Always dot your i's and cross your t's,
For them?
You've penned the perfect piece, submit
As anon.
You are ranked in the lists, perhaps praised
In posts?
Or does your world come tumbling, dismayed
At NA?
Just a thought on this poem of sorts
(Poem?)
Should sponors to contest be allowed?
They should!
NOTE:
Just some random thoughts as I went through the smogasbord of notes/posts/writings in blogs, comments, and other nooks and crannies of Poetrysoup. I am a great lover of the PS Contests, having discovered them a couple of months back. They have goaded and proded me to learn new forms and styles of poetry, as well as to take up challenges to hone up the craft. I am all the better off for it. So, my poem is to be taken as just random thoughts, which perhaps may lead to a bit of introspection about the contests.
I for one do not intend to get superawed by my own writings (though it is a necessary part of the Poetic Temperament) and intend to continue to participate in the Contests, Rankings, HMs, NAs regardless. That's it!
ps: And I do feel that the novice and the expert should compete on one platform as it brings out the best in both. And, ah, what perverse pleasure it is to behold your name above your idol's in the rankings!
I need to put my calendar on Wegovy
There are four of us in my study group,
Emma, from Lyon, a tall brunette, To her, everything’s a moral question or a joke.
Léah, from Étretata (Normandy) a waifish redhead, who’s either quiet or a total riot.
Chloé, an anorexic ex-ballerina, from Paris (the living theater) who talks of quitting every Tuesday.
In our study group rituals
- caffeine is our sacrament
and Anki is our confirmation.
We read the sacred texts (class notes),
annotated in colors that signify ‘don't forget that,’
and “this will be on the exam (probably).”
Emma says “my life is an Anki-fest.”
Léah says “time’s a construct and sleep a trap.”
Chloé says “let's do (review) one more chapter”
the way an alcoholic suggests,
“let’s just get one last drink.”
We diagnose strangers on the metro
a cough, a rash, a limp, a hand tremor,
with the confidence of prophets.
Whispering about “classic presentations”
We all want to be 'high-yield'.
We have daily in-group rankings,
for creating the best flashcards
and the best sleep score.
Today’s lunch is gone
and I don’t remember eating it.
Emma pronounces that normal
Léah logs it in an app as “fuel.”
On our last quiz our scores were almost identical.
Chloé says we should celebrate and all agreeing,
we ordered eclairs and espressos.
9 days until first year final exams.
.
.
Songs for this:
Think It Over by Born At Midnite
100 horses by Geese
.
Anki - a flashcard app for spaced-repetition memorization
He wore the Jersey representing the
Smuck of the Toolez Terrific, the
team that has dominated the
ToolTruck Sports League
for the last coupler years. More
over the rankings from all
over the world placed these to
Doughheads number one in
America.
Your organization establish the rules.
They create teams they find
sponsership and bosses pay
and workers work.
Making the need of knowing
key to communacative suggestive
positions. Our fans are important to
us. We love the relationship
we have with them and hope
such a trust and understanding
can bring fans together
to create new fans, who than
create new fans moreover.
Place to place,
city to city
people from the World al over!
New way of conveying,
derived from the Aceint Art
of Sulpture.
they called it freindly.
she'd wear a bikini
nd stand in a tub.
they'd pluck
quarters and half
dollars at he
mid section.
the one the landed on her
navel
would get enough attention to
allow the fella
to use silver dollars
to do the same.
The winner would win the prize.
Sir where may I drive you
With your finery and trappings
To the world renowned palace
So high in the rankings
And what do you do there
For you plainly are princely
I order activity
Of circuits and machinery
Now leave me to working
While you do drive me
I know where you hail from
Of your far away kingdom
How could you know it
A mere village hackney
The tales of your queen
Are known in our country
Does the queen tell you kindly
That you're a fine scholar
Have you known a lord
To praise you a driver
I sing my own praises
To myself softly
What wisdom I have
That is enough for me
Tell me now of the princess
For whom shall she marry
I know not who warrants
There are too many vying
Name the three manners
That rise above others
Philosophy bravery
I can't name another
Here is the palace
The trip has passed quickly
I hope to drive you
Again if you need me
I will sing your praises
And I'll sing them loudly
What wisdom you have
That is enough for me
ALL IN ACCORDANCE TO THE FACTORS WHICH CREATED IT.
CIRCUMSTANCES THAT CAUSE SUCH TO BE
IT IS CREATED BY THE RESTRICTIONS OF IT'S MAKING
TO BE SEEN AS THEY WISH OTHERS TO ENVY THEM
THAT THEIR TOGETHERNESS IS A TRUST OF SOMEONE ELSE'S UNDOING
EXTERNAL FACTORS CAUSES HIM TO RELY ON HIS PARANOIA
THEN TO STRENGTHEN HIS INTERNAL TRUST
HIS CONCERTED EFFORTS ARE INSIGHT OF THOSE
WHO DESIRE TO SEE HIM PERFORM
THESE PERFORMANCES WITHIN IT'S OWN CIRCLE
ARE RATED TO GAIN RESPECT AND OR COUNTER RESPECT
HE HAS TO EARN HIS POSITION AMONG HIS PEERS
THUS HE TRAINS AND RETRAINS TO MAKE RIGHT
WHAT MIGHT BE HINDERING HIS POTENTIAL GREATNESS
THOSE WHO WISH HIM NOT TO BE BEST SHALL UNDERMINE HIS ACHIEVEMENTS IN SIGHT
OF AUDIENCES AND THOSE WHOM HE WISHES TO RESPECT HIM
THEY RANK THEM AS CONTENDERS TO SIFT THROUGH CERTAIN LEVELS
THE BUNCH AS A WHOLE IS DIVIDED TO
SHOW SUPERIORITY
THOSE WHO CONTEND AMONG THESE RANKINGS ARE MADE CHAMPIONS AT BEST.
AND THOSE IN THEIR UNCERTAINTY ARE MADE INTO CONTENDERS
THOSE WHO WISH TO DETHRONE OR DECHAMPION THOSE UNDER THEM.
In halls once filled with promise bright,
A shadow creeps and dims learning's light.
Reform, a word with noble aim,
Now, threatens all in education's name.
Standardized tests, a rigid cage,
Confine young minds upon the page.
Creativity withers on the vine,
As rote replaces reason's shine.
Teachers, once guided with passion true,
Now struggle 'neath a system skewed.
Their art is reduced to data points,
Their calling is lost in policy's joints.
Oh, the irony of good intent,
How quality became so bent.
In case of scores and rankings high,
We've let true learning's essence die.
But hope remains if we but choose,
To break these bonds, our schools infuse
With substance rich and wisdom deep,
And from this slumber, knowledge reap.
Let's nurture curiosity's flame,
Embrace the joy in learning's game.
Revive conditions ripe for growth,
Where minds can flourish, reaching both
For stars above and roots below,
In soil where understanding grows.
Public education must not fall,
Its promise still can serve us all.
So let us turn, with urgent care,
To mend this system in despair.
Improve, infuse, and reimagine,
A future bright for education.
For in these classrooms, large and small,
Lies potential to transform us all.
If we but dare to change our course,
And tap into learning's truest source.
(A Tribute in Dream and Shadow)
I was not there when death closed your eyes,
But I saw you on the great screen of the world.
In dreamland, twice you walked toward me—
your steps were not of flesh,
but of spirit dressed in fire.
The first time I beheld Enter the Dragon,
I knew you were not merely a man—
your body held the intelligence of a cat,
your soul the wisdom of the king cobra.
You did not fight with fists—
you fought with silence, with spirit, with eternity.
Small like a mustard seed,
yet within you raged an entire forest.
Through deep discipline,
you studied the temple of the body,
and from that temple you reshaped the world.
You broke chains of cinema and race,
tore down the walls of stereotype,
and raised the banner of martial truth—
not for Asia alone, but for mankind entire.
In the dreamland you teach me still:
Do not bow to rankings,
Do not chase the vanity of belts,
Select what is useful, discard what is not—
for wisdom is found in the gathering of waters,
not in the stillness of a single pond.
“Be like water,” you whisper through the night,
And I, your student, bow my head and say Osu.
For you have shown us—
That adaptability is survival,
That self-mastery is freedom,
That discipline is the road to citizenship of the world.
O Sensei Bruce,
The camera could not contain you,
Death could not silence you,
Time could not erase you.
You are not gone.
You are the eternal echo
in every strike,
every film,
every dream where you rise again.