Long Rapid Poems
Long Rapid Poems. Below are the most popular long Rapid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rapid poems by poem length and keyword.
coping just for a purpose
rusting revealing the truth
a new coat of paint never helps
however i become emotionally addicted
i remember when smiles on four walls was the art we chose
when the foundation of the paint weakened with time, so did the symbolism of our love
we became antiheroes in the form of thematic failure
we allowed that to be our smiling front and our welcoming back
we never asked forgiveness for we knew not the particular definition
we were liars without admittance to admitting
as a result, we aged at a more rapid pace
genetics defied us, but we too were defiant by unified choice
God has a way of structuring by way of emphatic emphasis
nevertheless we let the devil break through....therefore becoming unfortunate pockmarked examples
hear others out there, just beyond my wall-wrapped sharing space
they break on through, sneaking inside my head
far above, front-nosed pilots point high-flying seated people tubes
passengers squeezed in tight, some feeling dread
as jet engines cloud-buffet, amplifying reverberations
chimney-chambers funnelling their muffled sound
momentary fear spills downward into the peaceful living-room
then gone, soon forgotten, on journeys bound
clank and clang, lift-arm lorries crawling slowly by the gateway
sin bins scooped, coloured cravings half-consumed
cascades of clinking glass crescendo, bottle-bank vomiting noise
rapid cadence, ambient drone resumed
programmed heat, timed with boiler clicks, powering-up, igniting
cold metal creaks around expanding joints
curtains swish, blinds roll open, bleary blinking, homely morning eyes
aural sequencing as the day appoints
distant yowl of hooter horn, duly departing commuter train
car doors slam, abrupt jarring intrusion
gauntlet-running mothers compete with pavement-blocking pupils
fumes linger, safety scarring delusion
radio din, depressing electro-magnetic compression
shovelled earth beside the thin blaring-out
men again dig doggedly, patching patches for the umpteenth time
careless strike, gushing hiss of waterspout
road tyres clip, manholes rattle, drum the brief mid-morning lullaby
rise and fall, the doppler siren speeding
two-wheeled tiny engine buzz, irritating as it nears the ears
loudspeaker hails, vies for votes its pleading
post person presents the parcels, delivering rat-a-tat-tat
cats scurry as scratching dogs lunge and bark
then sudden bang, spread-eagled pigeon, wingspan on window-pane
stunned, fluttering, hoping to reach the park
Forget cloning.
That is only one, right?
I want to quintuplicate myself.
If I could quintuplicate myself, we would call ourselves The Mighty Six.
We would have all the same ideas, life experiences, and feelings.
We could split up, going to different countries, to get acquainted with diverse cultures
Or we could sit around on a plush sectional with pillows, shaking our heads in rapid succession, agreeing on everything.
I see The Mighty Six annoying my relatives at Christmas, playing harmless silly tricks on them. Fooling them, two grandchildren each on each of our laps. Could anyone figure out who the original me is?
We would all refuse to tell, right? And we would all refuse to cook and clean.
We would give out no clues, the Mighty Six, united, and snotty.
I sit back and smile, imagining the glory and the fun of quintuplicating myself.
Dream-work ready, I close my eyes and begin to plot.
MY LIKINGS
I love to read stories, fairy tales,
also rhymes, poems and fables.
I love songs to listen and sing,
drum to beat and bells to ring.
Charcoal pencils I always fetch
As I love to draw and sketch.
With pastel and colours I venture
to paint beautiful pictures.
Swimming, Skipping and Cycling
are really my great likings.
White playing with my close friends
My vigour never to stop or end.
My delight flows to dance and prance
Always eager : Not to miss chance.
I love paper cutting to make patterns
of boat, bird, plane, flower, lampshade, lantern.
Rapid Reading -recitation
also attracts my attention.
When Mom hugs me tight and kiss,
That’s my great pleasure, best bliss.
03\06\23
Kids Creativity and Learning
Contest by Eve Roper
E-ither eye of you
M-akes a sparkling look;
E-ven if the sky is dark,
L-ife isn't found in a nook.
E-ither eye of you
N-ever seems to be sad;
E-ven if the raindrops fall, you still really feel so glad.
G-o outside and gaze
A-t the plants and flowers;
L-eft with drops of liquid,
L-eaves live by the rivers.
E-ither eye of you
M-oves in rapid motion;
A-lthough the wind is rugged,
S-ees reflection of its
O-wn.
T-ry to watch the wonder,
U-ntil you see the beauty;
A-llow your eyes to behold,
S-eeing amazing scenery.
T-ry to stare at the sunset,
U-ntil you see the horizon;
M-eet and greet the end,
B-eginning with the dawn.
A-llow the morn to break on third October view;
N-orhing cannot be noticed by either eye of you.
Rapid ideas sprinkle out of my dendrite village,
Flowing down my shoulders, landing on the best of days,
In kilter skelter felter welter milter belter jagged piles
in crazy, zany, silly, dark, ugly, horrible, unnatural, weird ways.
I watch them form little armies. Some skitter off into the kitchen walls.
Others slither back up my legs, trying to reinvent themselves.
None want my help, so I walk into the living room.
Some are laughing hysterically, thinking it is a game.
A couple of them hit me hard in the middle of my lower back.
They are giant jumpers, trying to get back into my skull.
Good luck I think, knowing my imaginary dendrite village well.
If there is one thing she does not allow,
it is access to repeat offenders.
Best to lie down on a page and let me
Draw a cartoon around you or put you into a poem.
"Te recuerdo como eras en el ultimo otono..."
(I remember how you were in the last autumn.)
---- Pablo Neruda
Dawn seems much later --
the nights much longer
than they used to be...
I am achier, and morning light
comes tardy. Our cats and I
are in the house and you, alas,
are not. Missing you,
they mourn, like me,
your touch, your voice,
lightning looks you aimed our way.
The house, the town, the world --
life itself -- are emptier, lacking
your zest, the flavor of your presence --
your voice, your smell, the looks
in your shining eyes. We will go on,
although in ways much changed:
without your laugh, your sneer,
flashes of your ire and then
regretful, rapid calming.
We do, and will, still remember,
these cats, and I, and
we will not forget.
No. How could we?
The void you left
will not be filled and
we will not, will not,
will not forget.
Like a fly without his/her buzz
even popping a guarana (caffeine) does
not shake the feeling
like brain covered with fuzz
no matter how hard I try eyelids claps
shut nor how many hours of sleep elapse
offers nary reprieve folds
welded tightly shut
feel like they weigh
much as a ton mud covered flaps,
thus thought to summon
meager energy reserves perhaps
generating poetic lines
interrupted by taking constant naps
but no matter eyelids
weigh heavy as a ton steel traps
narcolepsy not ruled out since
tired body struggles as if grasping for air,
yet such fatigued state uncommon for me,
though bothersome to grin and bear
this bout of sleepiness, where this
white knight chess sleeps
trouble free aye declare
quality deep rapid eye
movement marked noticed
since medication taken
to treat debilitating anxiety e'er
concomitant panic attacks, where psyche
got rent asunder send
ding this atheist to hell
episodes pained me
forked flaming tongues flare
ling, immobilizing, paralyzing
and stinging entire body,
hence methinks primary cerebral gear
and cog glommed
like a drain clogged with hair
nonetheless, no alarmist worry,
nor "worst case scenarios" betray
my ordinarily mellow emotional state,
thus any task I must delay
thoughts unstoppably captivated
by snoozing upon
a bed of freshly mown hay,
and then hours later
diminishing fatigue in catchy rye
ming verse aye re: lay
relishing being awake,
the mine true valued self I kin portray.
I crouched behind the tall grass growing
Spied a sly fox galloping towards me
With rapid breath, his ears held high
A hanging tongue, red eyes were glowing
He was hunting....he was wry
I watched him hunt, ...in tall grass growing
I knelt behind the tall grass growing
Saw the rabbit cower lowly
Looking for a rabbit hole
A place to scurry....he must hurry
A rabbit bracing,...hearts were pacing
My own heart was pounding, racing
I hid behind the tall grass growing
Watched the sly fox snatch the rabbit
A witness to the course of nature
I felt the darkness cloud the picture
Overcome by grief and sadness
I sat upon the tall grass growing
I stood up in the tall grass growing
Knowing of the force of nature
I must leave now.....I will grieve now........somehow my own tears are flowing
______________________________________________________________
Contest The Rabbit and The Fox (Inner animal)
Resubmitted and revised for PD's 100 in a ROW contest -- 17
Deafening
rapid fire blasts
Shatter
the transluscent margins of
Silence
with
Harrowed cries
gasped
Howls
echo from one side to the other
Of the heart’s vast arena
with a repeating chorus
of ruing
Pleas
Of the gone lost
Groaning for home
in frayed syllables
Grasping
at last
To a measure of hope
Possible
in a faith’s apologies
And abiding love’s
Pronounced touch
of forgiveness…
** “I am the prodigal son every time I search for
unconditional love where it cannot be found.”
Henri Nouwen: “ The Prodigal Son “
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(c) sally eslinger 2/3/2025