Long Repetitious Poems
Long Repetitious Poems. Below are the most popular long Repetitious by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Repetitious poems by poem length and keyword.
Another dead statistic dawns today,
Contempt dissolved foundations love astray.
Malicious memories of miscarried mirth,
Repetitious resolving rends rebirth.
Too far, too strange, oh we have now become.
Decisions bleeding passions cold and numb.
My frozen frigid feelings fade to black
Behold the barracuda's bitter back.
Oblique sidewalks a house no longer home.
Neglect’s hand opened doors for needs to roam.
Bent and broken, beautiful bygone heart
Past promises play the party-line part.
Divided assets fighting custodies
New boxes cardboard tombs of memories.
Separations and somber songs subside
Choice-less children and contemptible chides.
Petitioned courts and mediation pleas
Sustaining into absolute decrees.
Formerly favored family so forlorn.
Forever festers feeble foolishness.
----------------------------------------------------
A collaboration with Catie Lindsey.
Iambic Pentameter & Alliteration.
To the day – welcome!
Though it may appear the same, it is not.
Each day, each moment is new and unspent
cling to it, hold it tight for it will never return.
once passed, it is lost forever and will not be repeated.
But for now – it is here!
Live it, breathe it, hold it close with every breath, for it lives
And in its own life, it will become a memory to relish and recall in time.
To the day – thank the Creator for it,
Take in each singular, solitary second
Make it part of your awareness, your thought process –
For in a moment, it is gone with all that made it what it is, what it was –
But wait for it –
the next second, the next thought, the next breath of being
will also be unmatched and un-repetitious.
This life passes all too quickly, so make the most of it –
Live, Love, Linger in the moment
For all that is – will never be again
And in our lives, all our nows shall fade away in vague memories.
To the day – be true to yourself, your dreams, your beliefs –
Never be more than who you are - for you alone are you
And cannot be replaced nor matched.
Live long and prosper.
although revenge is said to be sour in the stomach
but sweet to the mouth and that is why it doesn’t matter
what happens afterward,
the old fool sharpens the dagger
to take revenge on those who made his life miserable
in the unquenchable flames of long harboring grudges
the shadow of the old fool squats down between a heaps of
useless settings that once have delighted the audiences
with added splendid sceneries to the stage,
moves back and forth gruesomely to sharpen the dagger
on the magnificent stage
the resentful performers’ spirits such as an actress
who was stoned to death because of jealousy,
an actor stabbed to death by a dagger of conspiracy,
a woman strangled to death under licentious taleteller’s tongue,
a man ran over by a carriage on the wheels of evil desire,
one who took his own life
after long and repetitious sleepless nights’ agonies
on the death of another that caused his misconception,
and many other leading and villain players’ victimized souls
come and go as if a gruesome Grim Reaper waited to see them
and snatch another from the stage
the old fool
surrounded by such sorrowful mistreated spirits
stares at the sharp edged knife with a bloodthirsty look
picturing the faces that must die under this dagger,
imaging the day of shaking the victims’ blood off from it
with complacent smile of satisfaction on his waning face
nonetheless, the face reflected on the blade was
no one else’s but his own careworn image,
the weather-beaten old man who went through a long life’s whirlpools
the old fool is
surrounded by the spirits
those of the falsely accused, mistreated,
and agonizing dead on the stage,
sharpening the dagger wet with his own tear drops on the stone
When the moonless nights are opaquely morose,
and the days draped with the dismal haze are dark,
to walk safely the life’s pathway isn’t easy.
When the flowers of the fervent garden wither,
and the grass of the meadow turns maroon,
the shards of hope sink in the suffering sea of tear.
When the meandering road to travel is miserably long,
and the wheel of time turns on the dusty last lap,
the focused vision of wisdom for vibrant living is lost.
When the pathway turns into a turbulent river of agony,
incise within mind the carved course of its own,
I sail sanguine to the ordained destination.
I don’t then measure the span of space and time,
take the resolute route someone set for me,
across the repetitious revolving days and nights.
I don’t ask myself the moot meaning of the journey,
for I won’t ever know, but I’m sure,
someone will take me to the blooming valley.
I don’t abandon remnant hope in the abyss of despair,
but cruise along content and confident
on the new walkway I pave in the terrain present.
I kindle in my mind the beacon of introspection,
illumine the convivial sanctum of the serene soul,
in its precinct the gate to the realm of bliss I see open.
An endless sequence marching to the shore,
the repetitious, mesmerizing sea.
The shoulders, tensed, relaxing all the more
as wave on wave come rolling over me.
Beyond the bar, the deeper hues of blue
turn emerald as they pass across the sand;
a frothy white appears as if on cue,
and rides, rambunctious, all the way to land.
A sound machine so marvelously made,
enraptured, I am caught up in a trance.
A symphony, with crashing symbols, played;
the waves complete a choreographed dance.
The soothing sound compounds its sweet effects;
I breathlessly anticipate the next.
—————
for the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 4 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
Written 06/19/2022
My dearest, Poe, how doth I findeth thee,
By now 'tis be of common knowledge.
By the morrow the whole of Colchester will
hear of it--it'll be no privy matter, I'm sure.
And, um, well, ah ... Oh speak up man, 'tis
too early for the cat to be out. Oh, ah, does
she know? Who? Your sister, Lenore? Yes!
Does she know about her? Oh, of course.
Well, having known my sister to have
snagged a 'booby' like you. What do you
mean by that? You know, the straight-
laced sorts. Oh, my, by the way ... are
you expecting company? Is she coming
here, now? No wonder The Pub is abuzz.
No, she's not coming. Well, don't be too
liberal with the phrase. I hope you and
the town, mind your business. Well, if it
was any other girl, Poe, but fortune did
favor you, my friend. The girl, after all,
does have a 'reputation.' And from what
I've heard quite a stellar resume. Oh my
dear, dear Poe. Why are you being oh, so,
repetitious? Ohh! Poe, you're such a cad!
Speaking of the devil. Oh, I'm so glad to
be here--for she does dress rather risque
and [A BIG GRIN] um ... my dearest Poe,
what frightful manners ... have you lost
them forevermore. Apologies. Oh no my
dear, 'tis naught you at all, for you do look
marvelously decorative. I'm Jerry, Poe's
brother-in-law--oh? Oh don't worry, my
sister and I, don't talk much. Oh, that's
rather obtuse, don't you think ... not if it's
the truth. Besides, Lenore should be the
least at fault, for that lies with me as it's
just natural for me to be a bump on a log
somewhere. I'm still playing with straws
here, Poe, intro please, she knows who I
am. Ah, Yes, Jerry, my buddy, may I have
this distinguishable opportunity to honor
you with the marvelously decorative woman
whose name is ... You can call me, Godiva.
[TWO VERY BIG GRINS]
my time is torn with thoughts of love
labors worn from pretending
things i wish to come
hopes tied up in the labyrinth
of my mind
wishes all used up
prayers running out of time
writing lots of poetry using the line
"a relentless search to find"
the other half of myself, all mine
The One
the want, the need, the answer to my greed
who? is the question the quest is launched for
what? is the subject. irresistibly amore
i cannot quell this instinctive quarry
it must go on for eternity
until i feel whole
only then will i reach my goal
when? you know the answer is always now
where? anywhere
How? with all my heart and everything
i have
with quick wit and foolishness to make her laugh
with repetitious revisions or romantic gestures
with elocution of vows and phrases
make her believe the end of my days is
when she leaves me alone
getting away from here
i will be much sweeter when we get there
right now all the stinky stuff is causing my mind to become totally oblivious
getting away from here
i will be easier to put up with as the miles evaporate
right now all the stifling stress is causing my mind to become very vulnerable
then there are the memories of dog food and cleaning products
then there are the thoughts of goodbye waves and pleasant trip expressions
then there are the images of blueprints to actualities and technicalities
the roads that i traveled were reasons why i am behind this wheel
somehow it has made me a better person with matured common sense
the scars within the memories remind me of what could happen again if i do....
getting away from here
i now begin to see light
the sunshine winks at me through the clouds and breaks free to smile at me before clocking in
totally cleansed am i of repetitious reflections unnecessary and unneeded
i turn into a scene in the new chapter of my new movement
it feels so wonderful to actually have a turn
now it is that 'in addition' that i desire and yearn....AND I JUST FOUND A PARKING SPOT!
thesis: strength endures voids and emptiness.
strength constructs no homes (antithesis:
if your house leaks then on swollen days
in sullen seasons there is no home for you)
there is endless repetitious strength
enduring endlessly there is this paradox:
strength is the void endured and consequently
synthesis: enter everybody’s anti-hero cross-eyed,
sees crossed eyes cross-eyed but looking in his eyes
sees straight, sees sick, sees something monstrous
something insect, sees this philosophic frippery:
that is sees man
endures in his mirror that is self-doubt,
his left arm being his right arm
his left eye sees his right eye
and no eye sees his nose right.
synthesis: enter naked the hero’s fists blazing
won’t put up with that mirror is laughing
smashing his left hand smashing his right hand
breaks his wrath in half–
enter the dumb smile of blissful blindness or
dumb sadness belting down a drink
enter an angel’s colorful rags and bells
enter a man in colorful sights and smells
enter blonde beauty dragging a bulging jock.
there is the entrance where they enter through
the black hole with crescent thin edges
the animal den the fish smell the ocean motion
there is women’s strength endures the stretch
forty-eight hours of warm pain
two hours of sharp pain around midnight
last sight the tippy-toppy veins of its head
bled and blood and body and push push Push–
and the tide goes out,
enter sleep.
I have an internally repetitious desire,
need,
want,
to seek reassurance
Not so much about,
Am I the fairest/ugliest of Them all?
But, lately,
more maturely,
rationally,
calmly and yet curiously,
compassionately,
Am I healthy?
How am I healthy/unhealthy?
spiritually/mentally
naturally/physically
politically/personally
Meanwhile,
nonverbal rightbrain gut-felt instincts
follow a similar light toward healthy purpose,
but more intuitively systemic
than leftbrain verbal analysis.
If healthy consciousness,
then when,
where,
and why are we most safe
and least unsafe?
An appreciation/depreciation question
of healthy rational purpose,
or not
Logical, yes
but also,
more deeply ecological,
a felt personal theological curiosity quest
for safe compassionate meaning
in relationship to
and from
EarthTribal
drawn-to-the-light
progenitors
Our indigenously wise
felt fellow
hearty
hardy
hale anthro-familials,
co-passionate organic environmentals,
edibles
and ornamentals
Mountain forest transcendent spaces
and river valleyed mellow
intimate meadows,
neighboring animals,
hospitably animated delicious insects,
singing birds
and fat and happy
yet clearly athletic
beasts
Bisexual flowers
and bilateral branch and root
universal health
and unitarian safety enlivened systems
Bipartisan public health enlightening
and safety empowering servants
Bilateral co-passionate
personal and systemically political
co-intelligence
Binomially resonant
resilient
repetitive
Left-secular-health/Right-sacred-wealth
feelings
of why conjoining MeWe
needs ego/ecosystemically win/win
safe thrival
and endless curiosity
about win/lose survivalist
unsafe risks
compromises
monoculturing egocentric
anthro-divine win/win values
and win/lose misvalues
and lose/lose nthrosupremacist disvalues
Predicting how lefthemisphere thinks
autonomously notices
individually processes NonZero Zone
is never ego-apartheid healthy
and always win/lose compromised,
potentially lose/lose traumatized
for lack of abundantly democratic compassion
autocratically virulent;
not more democratically vital
than narcissistic LeftBrain
anthrosupremacist
StraightWhiteCapitalistMale
rabidity.