Long Recital Poems
Long Recital Poems. Below are the most popular long Recital by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Recital poems by poem length and keyword.
Friends fidget, as do fellow musicians
throughout the auditorium anticipating
their moment in the sun.
To be truthful, they all wish it were done.
Notably nervous, nauseous,
She approaches the bench.
Notes are committed to memory, but...
just in case, she places a copy
on the piano.
Mom's seated down front
with grandma both beaming with delight.
One wipes her forehead;
one makes the sign of the cross.
Dad's in the balcony front row
with her wiggly brother and giggly step-sister.
Smiling, grinning, they want to wave;
Dad's look lets them know better.
Focused now, she begins her
original composition - Sonlight Sonata.
For five minutes of sheer delight,
she leaves anxiety with the audience.
Death ! I’m not afraid of you, you are a balm
come softly with long dark muscular arms
carry me into deep crimson flute melodies
where I will float with pink wreaths, a remedy
Here tenderly I embrace your breezy ripples
through Tunnel of Light, past heavenly officials
trumpets announcing my awaited joyous arrival
name embellished across peaceful sky, as recital
Delicate sugarbird wings will sway at ankles
lifting me into lilting velvet deep spangles
purple-gold lotus on engraved jewelled crown
butterflies bringing etheric ambrosia profound
Wild winds hum hymns with Star unconcerned
You will embroider my spirals with fragile ferns
faraway rains always fill sparkling trout streams
Death, I’m not afraid of You, hug me, my Dream !
Saying goodbye for once and for all.
Phone's disconnected, so no need to call.
The answer's been written so many times.
If you have a question, just read the rhymes.
Sometime's some people's lives are no good.
People just say they didn't do what they should.
But if you look closer you'll see beyond that.
For they certainly swung when their turn came to bat.
A faith in a trust of a forgotten promise.
Where betrayal of love left no one to kiss.
As ocean's and time do their dance of destruction.
The world keep's on turning with new love's obstruction.
The clock will be ticking when all has been said.
But this heart already feels like it's dead.
All that is left is an endless recital.
Of pain in a soul that's just suicidal.
What good is a poem of such needless rebuttal.
When no love's in sight, not even a cuddle.
Existing alone with no where to turn.
Is not worth the lesson to continue to learn.
CENTER>PUZZLING
A lot of things in this world
Really puzzle me.
And I’m sure they’ll puzzle you as well.
If you look at them logically.
Why does an egg plant have no eggs
And a hamburger have no ham?
A guinea pig doesn’t come from Guinea
And it isn’t even a pig.
Writers write but authors don’t ‘auth’
At a recital they play; at a play they recite.
If vegetarians eat vegetables,
What do humanitarians eat?
An alarm goes off by going on,
While your house burns up, it’s burning down.
And even our bodies are built to confuse.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
I could go on forever
But I’m sure you’ve got the gist.
I’ll leave you now dear reader
To work on your own list.
29th March 2023
Writing Challenge - 'P' Words Contest
Sponsor - Constance La France
I suppose everyone likes to be loved and comforted, and, it seems, one of the best ways to convey love is through a soft touch. Love is best when it is shared, and a toy is always there, ready to receive and give love as needed.
Honestly though, the only animal toy I remember from my childhood is the monkey puppet at my grandmother's house, once a toy of my dad's. My grandmother noticed I liked it so much that she let me take it home. The glint in its realistic eyes made it seem alive with its own personality. I never named him, but today, I'll call him Sparky.
Later, when my son was a toddler, he was given a cute cream-colored stuffed bear that was just about his size. We gave him a pair of my son's hand-me-down overalls, and my son affectionately named him Starpoint.
So, I hope you enjoy these two poems, written specifically for this evening's poetry recital.
Ode to Sparky
I found my monkey in a toy filled box
along with some old-fashioned wooden blocks.
He laid in that dark place for forty years,
but his bright eyes bore happiness, not tears.
He was a faithful friend, while I did grow.
I took him to school for a puppet show.
A primo companion, above all others -
with a guy like him, who needs brothers?
Ode to Starpoint
I guess I never knew you all that well.
Twas in my son's young heart that you did dwell.
You were just as cute and big as my son -
no wonder he picked you to be the one
to be his special companion and friend,
to whom this sole honor he would extend -
you're the only bear (wherever you are)
to be named after the point of a star.
These words mean much to me;
If you read them let them bless you;
Such a lovely remedy, melody;
These words are true;
Graphically harmonizing rhyme;
Controversy find so unkind;
Words cascading down from heaven;
By the sounds of the beating drums;
No one hums, nor comes;
To the spoken recital;
Open idol
Plane on auto pilot;
Words stutter and slider;
Sentences come from inside me;
Graphically harmonizing rhyme;
Controversy find so unkind;
Words cascading down from heaven;
By the sounds of the beating drums;
These words are true;
Such a lovely remedy, melody;
If you read them let them bless you;
These words mean much to me;
12/16/17
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
The Art
The art of music reveals the soul's effigy
The overture that eternally imparts its recital
To amplify our harmony with ageless elegy
To Give....
To give the great crescendo to all that we can endure
Through tone, and pitch - notes from our melodious score
Saturating the beholding forte of the hearts core
To Share....
To share the unison of our lives in common
The Maestro lifts our spirit beyond the raindrops that fall
To shelter and lighten the load of us all
To Embrace....
To embrace the air we breathe, the sweat we engender
The times of our joy we muse to cheer
The sunless hours of despair and fear
To Become....
To become what we feel
What we know - who we are - why us
To play the cantata, the fugue, the opus
The Pinnacle....
The pinnacle star of our absolution is music
The worthiness of our quality
The celestial harmony of knowing our reality
The Music....
The music of our substance set us free
The Rondo of our song, the Tremolo of our Rubato
The Oratorio in the narrative of life's flow
Transposing....
Transposing ourselves
To be mingled as the fish to the sea
In the concert of life's great ocean so free
October 19, 2020
Completely Your Choice (29)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Window Dressers
Running
different
than reigning
Politicians
shortly
find
Chasing the vote
versus
crossing the moat
Very few
able
— fewer to thrive
**********
Narrative Rewarded
Like weight training
for an athlete
poetry makes you strong
Each word a rep
till failure
to bring your lines along
A verses strength
increases
when flexed the story bold
With narrative
enrichened
— the poetry like gold
************
Venture Forth
My treasure hidden
beyond the waves
the horizon
beckons on
Through pounding surf
and giant seas
a voice
is calling strong
I set my sail
the closest reach
with tiller
in both hands
On faith alone
round jagged reefs
I trust
in who I am
Through longish days
and longer nights
my course
uncharted stays
The mainsail up
the jib reset
one albatross
relays
That fortune comes
but once in life
to those who hear
its call
And venture forth
through unknown winds
into
— the raging squall
***********
Spiritual Chrysalis
Losing oneself
to find oneself
Emptiness cowers
— catharsis begins
********
Devil At The Gate
Loyal
when it suits you
Faithful
when it’s safe
Committed
to the mirrored self
Devil
at the gate
Back turned
to the prophet
Fealty
starts to burn
Treason
left on high display
Shame
— at every turn
********
Poet & Prophet
Today
is all that matters
Memory
your biggest foe
Mining the pathway
to future promise
Excuse and weakness
grow
Time an illusion
a crutch for the weak
To hobble and stumble
in constant retreat
This moment recurring
endemic when willed
the poet and prophet
— forever instilled
*********
Never To Return
If the past is empty inside you
— the future will be lost
*********
Resistance Ignored
The world
quickly bored
at the recital
of misfortune
And most
willingly avoids
the sight
of distress
The path
of resistance
ignored
at its peril
All character
only tempered
when put
— to the test
(The New Room: June, 2026)
The creek is running swollen from the snowmelt.
The nights are getting shorter day by day.
The crocus pose like dancers in recital;
A portrait of the garden’s first bouquet.
Forsythia bloom golden by the pathway.
Azaleas wait their turn along the fence.
And all of it together tells the story
Of nature living in the present tense.
The squirrels are acting frisky in the treetops
And rustle through the canopy above,
Emerging from a season’s hibernation
As patient and enduring as your love.
Today I’ll take my axe and split some cordwood,
Replace the stacks I’ve burned the winter through,
And when I have my second cup of coffee,
I’ll dedicate my resting thoughts to you.
Facebook flight, a messenger pigeon
Each Pageant shuffles pretty women
Most admired tiara sparkle temporal
Sash off strategic take trick terminal
No need to tweet esteem over media
Stern sensei recites reprimand, sepia
Cyber courier delaying defeat in fury
Gathers fragile artefacts via the jury
Thrown to past season, bent bouquet
Creases curtain backstage, showcase
Effort effected in gloom glows wattage
Wife writes fairytale wedding marriage
Health heralds husband’s regard sole
Seashell static fuzz phases out vitriol
Ocean sunk scroll in bottle, lost title
Cut circuit campaign silences recital
25th January
Objection Overruled