Long Readers Poems
Long Readers Poems. Below are the most popular long Readers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Readers poems by poem length and keyword.
Not how his poem was rated,
But the fact, it was recorded,
If by machine was being read—
Like a car having just one gear!
Yet, happy was he still to hear,
If not readers, by machine read.
And listened in spell, not a let,
Till the poem ending couplet,
And what was just an underscore,
He wished it were encore, encore!
___________________________________________________
A budding poet had placed some of his poems on a poetry website, which added an audio to some of the poems, machine voice reading them. A line at the end drawn with underscores was also read as underscore, underscore.... faithfully. But, he, a dreamer, hears it as encore, encore!
______________________________________________________
Humour | 24.03.2017 |
Here in our land where words take flight,
Where verses dance with pure delight,
Lies a poem, misunderstood, open concealed,
Its essence lost, its meaning revealed.
"The Most Misread Poem In America," is called,
An enigma, a riddle, a mystery by all.
Lines crafted with care, like a delicate thread,
But tangled interpretations cause it to be misread.
Oh, how the words do twist and turn,
In the minds of readers, hearts eager to learn,
They skim the surface, blind to the depth,
Missing the treasures this poem has kept.
They search for the literal, the straightforward rhyme,
Yet this poem transcends the limits of time.
Its metaphors dance, its symbols transcend,
But they remain unseen, they fail to shine.
The opening stanza, so beautifully designed,
A call to awaken, to expand one's mind,
But they rush through, in haste to the end,
Unaware of the message it intends to send.
The middle verses, with their enigmatic prose,
Unfold a story that nobody knows,
They brush past the imagery, the vivid scenes,
And wonder why this poem remains unseen.
The closing lines, a crescendo of thought,
A plea for unity, for battles to be fought,
But the readers, they miss this call to action,
Their eyes, blind to the poem's true satisfaction.
Oh, America, how you misread,
This poem, so timeless, it yearns to be freed,
From the shackles of ignorance, of shallow minds,
To be understood, its beauty defined.
So let us pause, take a moment to reflect,
To delve into this poem, to truly connect,
For within its verses lies a truth untold,
A story of a nation, waiting to unfold.
"The Most Misread Poem In America" it may be,
But its power, its essence, can set us free,
Let us read with open hearts and open minds,
And rediscover the treasures that this poem can bring.
Dear readers
Let’s dig in to the business of writing
Many are lies peddled by people who come in your life
Some simply because your judgement is different from there’s
Others simply because you showed no effort in a situation but you overcome or succeeded
Others simply hate you for no reason at all
This has lead to many battle cancer,depression,highblood problems just to mention a few
Today allow me to stand on this poetry alter of salvation and preach
Yes you win in some battles or life decisions while;
In others you loose terribly no matter the investment you have put in
But that shouldn’t worry you or make you seem yourself a failure
Why because we got a God that never gives up on us
You ask how I know this
You may be a Christian,Muslim or Jew or even a non believer
But God took His precious time to design you
You are not a mistake of unprotected sex
But God gave you a unique body and shape that does not resemble anyone else
We all got 2 eyes but no 2 humans got the same kind of eyes
This is because unlike human who got assembly plants for cars God created each one of us in a unique way
We are not a product of an identical human plant but we are a sum total of God’s love to us
That’s why someone can sing while another one can only listen to the song
Another one can dance to the same song while someone else can only watch
Yet the singer, the listener, the dancer and the one watching all are happy
God does not ask angels to continue with His creation plan but He takes value in each one of us
No matter we believe in Him or not but He loves us all as unique as we are for we are His testimony of His greatness’
Run your race,live your dream and clap for those who have had there break through
For yours is on the way as well
We all got our time on earth determined, your achievement are well outlined but we push for others decisions in life as they seem working and forget our own purpose of existence
Last but not the last one,I am a poet my job is to preach here to the online audience
What is your purpose in the kingdom you serve in
May those who testify to my words say it is well
#chuimunga the poet
#made in Africa
@3/10/2021
Form:
River flows in desert,
Express roads in wilderness,
Bountiful harvest in exile,
Technological assignments to a master,
Make electrons flow in circuit(s).
Watery jokes in sadness,
Colourful muse in loneliness,
Faded depression inks happiness.
Yet, wisdom never relent its chase.
How circuit breakers save blue heaven!
Trances are loyal,
Than physical nature's monuments.
Logics are reasonable,
Than loyalist in temptation.
That's Lucy in the sky with diamond!
Let no right fight,
For left is at the corner.
If left keep calm real good;
Argument won't win discussion,
When cut-outs are well stationed.
Understanding to the listeners,
Knowledge to the speakers,
Wisdom to the readers,
Muse to the writers,
All works together for the best.
That’s how some poets roll the the dice here, don’t you see?
I think it makes sense, if your life is all about me, me, me!
Old poetry friendships ………like garbage, tossed dowm
a mildewed, stenchy, drain.
As some “must “ be read or you are tossed out like a cat in
the cold, pelting, raim!
They forgot those old days, when they wrote little and had
Very few readers.
But now, you are useless friend, and tossed into the trash,
like a broken, comfy, living room seater?
So, don’t feel bad, if this happens to you, they forgot you,
so move on.
For you have a poetic gift, with fun, beauty and inspiration
to pass on.L
And yes, you can read any other poets who do not
read you.
Poetry badminton, is a sad game, I most
heartily eschew!
Life throws curveballs our way, but it’s not great
to live as though comments were our all.
Spouses, childhood friends, church,pets, life
celebrations ..demand our all.
We are duped into thinking that keystrrokes
mean friends.
I used to think so, too but learned that’s where
the story sadly ends.
~Poem 2~
3/9/2024
In my lonely times,
I feel crowded the most.
In my sad times,
I feel happiest the most.
In my crying times,
I feel playful the most.
In my hurting times,
I feel healed the most.
In my stormy times,
I feel calm the most.
In my chaotic times,
I feel peaceful the most.
In my happy times,
I feel troubled the most.
In my hyperactive times,
I feel less concerned the most.
In my sorry times,
I feel wronged the most.
In my loving time,
I feel rejected the most.
In one's living time,
He feels dead the most.
In one's dying time,
He feels life the most.
In the presence of my mind,
I feel absent the most.
In the face of many readers of mine,
I feel numbness in my pen the most.
My passion is writing poetry
that challenges my muse and energizes my mind,
allowing me to pen my thoughts and feelings freely.
I use words like a carpenter might use wood;
molding and refining each verse
until it fits just right.
As the essence of my existence
gets transcribed onto blank pages
my imagination dons wings: to fly above reality,
and flutter like a butterfly on the winds of time.
For me, there is no greater satisfaction
than having touched someone's soul through my words.
Between the lines: in every poem that I write,
I offer a glimpse of my heart and a peek into my soul.
My poetry is not just about meter, syllables, or rhymes,
they're merely the tools I use: to sculpt a mental image,
that I endeavor to share with my readers.
I strive to be both clear
and distinctive as I can be,
while transforming my feelings into poetry.
I am used by writers quite a lot
I'm very important, though just a dot
I put an end to every sentence
And make the written word make sense
If you fail to use me when you write
Your readers will have no delight
They'll search your words for subtle clues
But in the end they'll be bemused
It's best for you to punctuate
Or the reader you may irritate
So when you write don't be a clod
Always remember to use your period
And so I hope you'll understand
what the written word demands
But I think I may be wrong, not right
Cause I've used none in this write!
----
All say avoid cliches
Don't call tears, tears
I search for alternative
All forms of water already used
I give up
I am writing to pen down
my inner most feelings
My thoughts come from within
Why should I change them?
I am not out here to impress others
I will not break my head to win a prize
My happiness is more important than my ego
I will always write in simple clear language
Try to motivate others or leave them with an
afterthought.
Maybe take them on a beautiful journey with me
I will ensure my poems are easily understood by all
Profound thoughts are best expressed in simple words
If message doesn't reach out to readers,
poetry looses its value
Poetry is a art, a joyous, blissful, exhilarating passion
It should not become a means to prove we are the best.
29.09.2021
I love all.
Stand tall.
Don't fall.
Answer His call.
All should call on Him.
Our lights will never dim.
As long as we win.
Lose with victory from deep within.
As long as we're having a blast.
Hearts will be mended - this is not the end.
All should have hope.
Poems don't have to rhyme or have a certain "style" that's "normal" to the readers - weird is the new norm...so get it together in your dorms and keep warm.
Write with your might.
Fight the grand fight.
Don't shout.
Be quiet no doubt.
Don't pout and about.
We are on
God's route
Till the dawn
Draws out...........
I challenge you all...
To stand, not fall...
Answer your call...
Call it faith and all.
Getting tossed to and fro like a ball?
Don't slam your fist against the wall...
Just...listen...
Be patient through it all.
Your auras will glisten
If your eyes, with all their might, watch as miracles in disguise break free the truth behind it all. Calm down, y'all!
See for yourselves...
We are not dorky elves...
We are Giants of Greatness
Dismiss the aftershocks of distress...
We will clean up the mess we've made
Without making it look like a volunteer job that never gets us paid
Then again...
Be grateful...thankful...merciful...merriful...don't give us no bull.
Be of mighty women and men...
Stand as one - may our cups be ever full...we just act cool.
Hang up the phone.
Of "awfully" alone.
Know this once and for all.
We aren't alone, for we stand tall.
Do us a great favor -
Love one another, even foes from under or above.
What about we savor...
The moment of what we are made of.