Long Rename Poems
Long Rename Poems. Below are the most popular long Rename by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rename poems by poem length and keyword.
We ask
How would it be like to cheat with your soulmate
My love,we have passed with flying colors defeating all odds yet we still stand now in sync more than ever Completing each others sentences is a coin tossed long time ago
We are far beyond that now
We are an academic article only to be found in the deep web
We are an epiphany of a Buddhist monk about to set his whole body on fire We complete each others thoughts
I ask
If we were to paraphrase the story
Were a fairy brings a tale in stead of making a living out of teeth Were you on the other side are dating another guy lets say his name is Sabelo and I am dating Karabo Can I pick you to be my partner in this sin
Imagine the fun we could have knowing exactly there's more to what reality is feeding us for breakfast There is more to what meets the heart
Can we do this ? Can we perfect this art of cheating?
Can we rename each other's contact numbers on our phones
Can we be jumpy whenever our partners seem to be penetrating deep within the transcriptions of reading between the lines Can our emails be the last line of defense in our communication
Would you dare do for completeness ?
Would you live a glow in the dark life and be in the command center of what peeks your interests in being happy? In fact ,allow me to be an ass
Tell me about your day
Tell me about him,whats missing in his touch that made you gallop in my front door and choose to ooze in my touch ... I will tell you why I am here also,speaking paradise ....,deceiving.. I ask
Is deceiving a justification of a true act of love?
I read somewhere that when you love two people at the same time
Go for the second
Because if you truly loved the first one,you wouldn't have fallen for the second one in the first place I would find you in another lifetime and recognize you in a different language Darling ,it just happens in these timeline its called cheating a century from now Can we turn the tables around?
Can you sneak in my flat?
Leave in the early hours and blame it on your friend
Can Sabelo be a fool for us?
Can he not see whats going on here
Can I pass you walking with him,can I greet you guys? Shake his hand and only look at you once ... Can our hug in front of him be innocent?
We ask
How would it be like cheating with your soulmate?
Leading his horse in the heat of the day
Been gone a long time but he still knows the way
Just a few shacks when he went for the gold
He’d found a few nuggets but now he’s too old
So, home to the town that he’s heard has expanded
He’s also aware that the town’s been rebranded
He knows he’s too late to catch up with the guy
Who’d bid him farewell but now lives in the sky
He stops on the trail by the boundary sign
He don’t read-n-write but he knows the design
He knows that the words on the board aren’t the same
Must’ve been changed to display the new name
“Howdy, Old timer,” a passerby said
“The hotel’s just yonder for resting your head.”
The prospector said, with a big toothless grin,
“What’s the new name of this town that we’re in?”
“It’s now ‘Milton Creek’, as it says on the sign
It’s new name remembers a good friend of mine.”
The old fella, grinning and shaking his head
Said, “Milt said he’d live on long after he’s dead.
“I used to tell him he was being absurd
but he always was just as good as his word.
To be sure that fella deserved the ovation
But can we just rename the towns in this nation?”
The passerby said, “There are them that makes rules
And then there’s the ones that behave like their mules
But sooner or later things get a bit rich
And the mules all rear up and scratch at that itch
“Soup Creek fell prey to the powers that scheme
With lynchings and lashings an ongoing theme.
There’s cells in the jailhouse where innocents dwell
Soup Creek’s reputation had heard its death knell.
“You see ‘Soup’ emerged as a four letter word,
And good folk would tremble when e’er ‘Soup’ was heard.
So we ditched the mouldy old cheese for best stilton
And renamed our town to remember our Milton.”
The prospector slapped on the passerby’s arm,
“You think I just ran from the old funny farm?
When you said ‘Stilton’ twas just for the rhyme.”
The passerby grinned, “Fella… got it first time.”
The world is divided, divided in two and there’s really nothing one man can do. There are the good and the evil, the pure and the not, close in comparison to ice and red hot. I sped up my rhythm on behalf of this rhyme and I felt the importance of keeping this mine. I made this a story for sake of that oath and I was required by my conscience to rename them both. The world is divided, divided in two and there’s really nothing one man can do. There are Heroes and Zeroes, they all look the same, one way to look at it, it’s like an old game.
The world is divided, cut in two and there’s no way of telling who is really who. There are Heroes and Zeroes, they all look the same, you can’t tell by guessing or just knowing their name. Zeroes justify their greed and their bad, make sure you remember the things you once had. They will steal all your dreams, take all your gold and laugh at you afterwards because you should have known. It is borderline criminal, it’s a little insane but it is not the sole reason that I gave them their name. They have zero compassion, zero remorse and zero pity for those off course. They cause the world sorrow, they add to its pain, they do all of the killings and earned every bit of their name. The world is divided, split in two and there is really nothing anyone can do. There are Heroes and Zeroes, they all seem the same, one way to think of it, it’s kind of a game.
The world is divided, torn in two but there has to be something a good man can do. There are Heroes and Zeroes, they all look a same, it’s hard to imagine it’s only a game. Heroes won’t give up, they will never give in, they will stay by your side and insist that you to win. They force you to smile, cause you to grin and somehow get the whole planet to spin. The world is divided, it is cut in half and it’s hard to know who you are looking at. There are Heroes and Zeroes, they might seem the same but don't ever tell me it’s some sort of game.
By Izunna Okafor
Oh ye the sun
Why have you been stubborn like son
Consistent in gazing at ground
Endlessly waxing around the town
The ground is as though as husk
But you never consider the gross of dust.
Why have you always unleashed your anger
Treating your people as though we are stranger
Have you forgotten your mandate to the man on earth
To the extent of being a straw to uproar his thirst
Oh the sun when will you dismount from us
Thy wicked eyes of drought and blocks
Thy hotness of thy eye is severe to man
And the warmness of thy time has defied the land
You cool a hand with liquor
But beat a man to stupor
Your good works are never rejected
But your hook ones are ever dejected
You dread not the men
And you fear not the rain
Punching out the rays to the cloud
And mulching out the blaze to the crowd
A pregnant woman you spare not
Not even a new baby you spare wrath.
You make a giant a lazy man
And rename a Goliath a baby man
Oh the sun when shall ye retreat
And remove thy bricks along the street
The calves of men are now like blades
Crushing the earth as ruin abrades.
Our body is now at stake
Just as our colour is now mistake
Your dryness is never to quench the quake
But to bring the earth to thirst and quake
Oh thy sun I beseech thee to leave the earth alone
Your mandate to man is to bring the earth to growth
And not to bring the earth a groan.
Thus we appeal thee the sun
Dismount thy host from men and go.
About The Poet:
Izunna Okafor is an award-wining creative Young Nigerian Novelist, Poet, Essayist, Journalist, Editor, Translator, Publicist, Igbo Language Activist and an Administrator who hails from Ebenator in Nnewi South L.G.A of Anambra State Nigeria. He writes in English and Igbo languages, and has published enormously in both, nationally and internationally. Izunna has received over 25 awards, and has over 800 articles published online.
Poets were given nine lives a year ago
During the pandemic. Didn’t you know?
I used my first life in January, when I fell in the snow.
Lost until my soul had left. Oh, what woe!
Luckily, life number two took me through Valentine’s Day.
I had Zoom meetings to attend, and Google Meets along the way.
I got zapped by electricity, for my machines were ungrounded.
Life number two was gone; your disbeliefs unfounded.
Life Number three was happy and excited, cheerful and gray.
She kept me safe and enthusiastic every day.
We were besties for a month, maybe two.
But then I was run over by an elephant name of Blue.
I was determined to be careful with life number four.
I drove rather carefully from my home to the store.
I did not take any risks, I wore a mask on my face.
The fact that a wolf got me was a huge disgrace.
Life Number Five was overbearing and crude.
She told me what to do, commanded, and she was rude.
I did not mind losing her, the day she went away.
I have to admit, I was not one second gray.
Life Number Six came along on Memorial Day.
She decorated graves with me, and we made them all gay.
We danced and strutted until I accidentally fell into an open grave.
Life Number Six is gone now, but often her I still crave.
Life Number Seven came with warnings of danger of red.
I nicknamed him Samuel, but he asked me to rename him Fred.
I was getting scared now, because I am losing lives fast.
He told me not to worry, to stop dwelling on all my lives past.
I am proud of myself for I only have two lives left.
If I lost number seven, I would feel depressed and bereft.
I am choking on this sandwich loaded with Iowa Ham.
Oh, no, here is Life number Eight. Damn! Damn! Damn!
Multicultural Britain
(An Unapologetic Statement)
Two “Festivals of Light” there are
Each and every year
The Jewish have their Hanukah
And Hindus their Diwali cheer
The end of Ramadan brings Eid il Fitr
The Muslim fasting's passed
The Welsh National Eisteddford
Culture, craft, songs not surpassed
There is the pagan Betain
That Celtic Festival of Fire
And the famous summer Solstice
Stonehenge, druids and sun inspire
Halloween crosses boundaries
Between Christian and Heathen
Leading on into November
Honouring death and ghosts of men
But amid all this Britain is
A bastion of Christianity
While accepting all religions
They too should be made to see
That in our tolerance still we stand
With our ceremonies and feasts in tact
Our Lent, Easter and Christmas
This is a simple statement of fact
Please don’t tread upon these rights
Which we’ve defended for years
Don’t rename our traditions
And cause confusion or trite fear
The Godless in society
Can rant and claim new ground
But faith is our foundation
And that foundation is very sound
So it IS a Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year too
The Scots can call is Hogmanay
Because they have and always do
It is a happy holiday
To all despite their creed
To each give them utmost respect
In thought and word and deed
But let us all remember
Respect is a two way street
Do not dictate our policies
Among people that you meet
This country was here before you came
And settled on these shores
This is the British way of life
That you’ve chosen, now, as yours
So let the religions flourish
And none to those who’ve none
And live in total harmony
Until our time is done
US President Donald Trump delivers!
Disappearing people,
people aren’t illegal
The inefficiency of DOGE
Nothing makes sense, it’s all a mirage
Ignoring the Supreme Court,
immigrant prisoner’s fees come up short
Drastic aid cuts kill people overseas,
bringing back rare disease
I’m not bashing the Trump agenda
Sipping a five-dollar coffee and Splenda
It’s inflation, and his
insatiable appetite for tariffs in other nations
Got his gimmick and applause
Worldwide leaders upset because
outrageously tariffed
Worse than even liberals predicted!
Firing government workers,
ridding twitter twerkers
Best say 2020 election was rigged,
and that other candidate cheated
Silicon Valley beware,
AI undermining gives a scare
Pardon the bad guys,
lock up innocent lives
Tariff-related market collapse,
Gerrymandering make new maps
Farmers forced to overregulate
Under lableing’s blind fate
Suing the media,
can’t fact check on Wikipedia
Bye bye D.O.D
end of US Army?
Rename it, department of war,
forget defense, think of horror
I mean, I could just keep going
Let’s see what is missing?
Government workers fired
Lack of qualified candidates hired
Take his family and RFK JR radical,
gets checks from pharmaceutical
Braking the law shooting-up everyday,
what would the dead Kennedy's say?
What isn’t missing is Trump in the White House
and his trophy wife spouse
And so instead of unabashedly bawling my eyes out
I’ll do what it takes to mellow doubt
That’s only half of it,
Melania spoke out, I’m now in a bad state of regret
Give me a drag—I need cigarette!
Fi is my name
Short for a title I can't rename
Fi is not a note
Two letters shorter than a mote
A fiddler from Finland
First son of a worker in hinterland
I travel near and far
With or without money in my jar
I am not broke
Just a funny bloke
I once sailed like a sailor bee
Zipping on a summer sea
I landed with my feet
One bended and one splinted with slit
I walked a million steps
From the shore spoke and loved a thousand veps
I trekked a flat icy nest
And climbed the trees of ivory crest
One day I found a coconut tree
A sacred palm from Thee
One name given to me
A connection of wireless canopy
Fi you can call me
Can't tell more about me
Read my name in reverse
Many things I say in verse
Ask me what my dream is?
Simple life I wish and kiss
I'll never drive you like a nut
Just stay true without a but
I'll keep you warm and safe
Stripping you out of troubles that chafe.
I am walking again...
This time on waters that drain
Temperature's so high that ire
Dipping on a basin of fire
Soaking up to knee-level
Skimping, not revel
Then I dropped in a hole
Bigger than a man hole
I was flushed in a long tunnel
Sliding through a funnel
At the end of the hole I cram
I dropped myself in a dam
I was like a rolling stone
Tumbling and landing on a cone...
The story continues
An epic of giggling ensues
Next time I'll write a story about swan
When you acknowledge my greeting, not ban
Fi is my name with continuity
Fi of fidelity and infinity
See you next time
Be merry and smile all the time!
CHORUS FOR DOOMED YOUTHS
how fortunate are you, Child?
I couldn't abort you.
now I've given birth to you
and nothing shall
kill
your breath--- till
you tell this truth.
you have come:
to live and to love.
I name you Deft-Daft
you're like Jabez;
borne out of the sorrow
of my marooned heart.
you're my child, be also my herald.
Go ye
to that tribe of kooky tune-smiths
and tell them; tell them
how deft their sound
how daft their lyrics
how doggone their voices
how gaga their listeners
how savage their songs
how brief their existence.
tell them! tell them
tell those loony song-smiths--
whose choruses are chanted in all
wacky-wacko-psycho muster--
to chant the beauty of nature
and cover her nakedness.
tell them! tell them
how their ignoble lyrics
defile the minds of the young
and ravage the mind of the sages.
singing, dancing, capering
grinding, swinging, raving
smoking, drinking, prattling
buying, selling, fighting
feel-highing, bubbling, hurting...
dying of excessive pressure for treasure;
dying for excessive measure of pleasure.
tell them! tell them
their errant lyrics
bear bawds and brainless brawn
whose thew thaw in stew!
sing- dance- darkness- phew!
watery lyrics filled with chaff
to rouse demented youths.
their music, their fall;
their melody, their pall.
tell them! tell it to them.
then like an Abiku
die your final death.
when you are reborn
to live your final life,
I shall rename you Deft-Deft
MY poem is about all of our Christians' greatest escape of all time because:
Our Lord promises to rescue His saints from the earth's seven year's
tribulation period. For when they are saying,"Peace and Safety," He
will return just "Like a thief in the night" for His chosen bride." Jesus
Christ's redeemed church during the "great catching away."
For our Lord, Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice
of an arch angel and the last trumpet of God. The dead in Christ will become
the first to rise from their graves. Then we who are still alive and remain shall be
caught up together to meet them, in the middle of the cloudy sky, and so we
shall always be with the LORD. (All together we shall enter into His holiest of His
kingdom of heaven for seven years.)
In the "twinkling of an eye" we shall all be changed from mortality to immortality.
From the perishable to the imperishable because "flesh and blood cannot inherit
the kingdom of God" in heaven. We shall all be transformed into the image of His
own heavenly resurrection body's and after His own likeness. This is too long
so I will have to rename it and shorten it.
I will see how much of this I can use for Poetry Nations's Eber and Wein
deadline for their poetry anthology March 21, 2025 EST Time.
All of my love in Christ Jesus,
Your Watch woman on the Wall
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954/ October Country
December 25, 2024
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year's