Long Replayed Poems
Long Replayed Poems. Below are the most popular long Replayed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Replayed poems by poem length and keyword.
Life As A Highway Robber
Escape from captivity pulled off
when I came of age
boyhood begrudged,
and bested by brigandage,
but willpower sans declaration
of independence begot bravery
against British brutes
bridging caper (involving collusion)
to bust loose from cage,
and trappings forcibly to plunder artworks
and sculpted treasures
by classical masters
without causing damage
taught by professional thieves
requiring minimal equipage
whereat over time footage
sordid memory constantly replayed
plunder and pillage unwittingly
fostering getaway
from hell raising gambits
planting seed to gauge
optimal instance
to feign criminal shenanigans
running rampant with militant spunky gangs
"FAKING" das spies zing
trumpeting hostage killing
and taking, nonetheless
swallowing bitter pill
reeking havoc as honorable image
in order to survive
within world wide
web of criminals (especially
an unwelcome foreigner),
where skills as buccaneer
really put to test, and tried
maximum lawlessness partaken
in (dolled up) guise suppressing shied
pitifull looking indigent vagabond
self away by donning
"FAKE" whippersnapper
benefiting getting to sally and ride
always exuding patriotic pride
pleasing ghosts of founding fathers
against their autonomy from
crown weathering woe be chide
recrimination impossible
to enforce as bride
of Lady Liberty opened arms for those,
who made dangerous journey
across avast ocean
only to confront (whodunit) thuggery
this lifestyle raping, looting,
and burning WITHOUT choice,
but guilt aye didst abide.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Retrospective many generations since
marking birth of a nation
(The United States of America),
now mecca, sans land of milk and honey
current president imposed antithetical ration!
**Entry for CREEP contest:
You made me feel like a creep.
As if I was wrong, like an enemy across the line.
But, you were a family, this family of mine.
Bad for speaking truth, withered by your words.
Thinking you could erase what happened with lies.
But it was my life you were trying to erase.
You haunted me at night, stole safety with fright.
Horrific images replayed over and over in my sight.
You made me feel like a creep.
As you casted your evil problems, onto me.
Twisting everything to your liking so easily.
Kept saying, I was a disruption to you all.
Yet, I had not casted any insults in your face.
You made me feel like a creep.
Lowered me to almost believing it, wounded in the wild.
With your badgering statements, crippling denial.
I am a good person. I know that inside.
So, I tried to prove myself to you all.
But, I had nothing to prove, no reason why.
Taking actions to defend my stance in a storm.
Wasteful time, ended up slipping on by.
You made me feel like a creep
As you later disowned me, not getting your way.
But, I knew that I was good enough
To carry on my journey, build the life I want someday.
So, I climbed. Then, I climbed higher and higher.
To see beyond all the heart searing accusations.
I threw them out to the howling wind, I did.
Now, I stand by who I am effortlessly and cleansed.
By the wind that took it all, leaving me in calm silence.
For I was never a creep. I was the master of my life.
Heidi Sands
*Placed 2nd in Contest: Creep
My friend the day you found me I was feeling mighty low, no money in my pockets, and no
place for me to go,
the rain was falling hard and the streets were real dark,
a heavy weight was on my mind and pain was in my heart,
I'd walked for many lonely nights and even lonelier days,
rehearsed in my head a thousand times if I found her what I'd say,
upon the bench I found some rest my head held in my hands,
the faded photograph I'd kept slipped quietly to the ground,
the need to live escaping me, the need was always her,
my love, my heart, my everything, my best-friend, my girl!
I replayed the days we spent together, the laughter and the fun,
the tenderness of each others arms when our love had just begun,
as I sat and remembered you, your face, those eyes I loved,
tears washed with winter rain, where are you my lost love?
As if in a dream yet wide awake this angel did appear,
and asked me why I sat and cried, why so many tears?
I could not look upon her face my sadness held me still,
yet she understood without a word to live I'd lost my will,
she placed her hand upon my own and with such a tender grip,
her fingers touched my face as she kissed me on my lips,
"I forgive you for the past mistakes, honestly I do, see I've been searching for you also,
I remember too"
I had been to such an awful place
felt misery and pain
I thank God for the night you came back to me
I thank God for Angel Rain
Form:
Even if yours truly could repeat every grade...
Without fail, I would flunk preschool
farcical scenario aside
truthfully, metaphorically, emphatically
resigned to life as replayed
male live violent scullery maid
forced to spend existence locked
within veritable grotesque
dragon filled dungeon paid
existential dues many times over
horrible nightmarish masquerade
eternal punishment cruel fate
refuses to trade
redemption condemning freedom to fade
prefiguring edge of night
mental dark shadows shade
purposefulness reduced trite
poetry without reasonable rhyme
sole recourse to vent bitter tirade
black bile coursing thru
at woebegone permanently delayed
jollity sabotaged travesty
utter ignominious parade,
no surprise violent rage
bubbles up inside decayed
corporeal flesh, where psyche slayed
fledgling inchoate willpower
self destructive courtesy inherited
ignoble misdeeds displayed
havoc struck in utero a frayed
fetus, where mutated
deoxynucleic acid double helix played
out flawed biological blueprint
fetish, obsession, and zealot
regarding straggly tangled mane
salt and pepper grayed
quiescent, indifferent, and ambivalent
once upon a time
flirted deadly escapade
sought out anorexia nervosa
frankly zapped, starved, and
deprived critical decade
destructive, imperative, and operative
diabolical, inimical, and maniacal aide
de camp conspiring, kickstarting,
snapchatting umbilical cord strangling
again allegorical besieging enfilade
machine gunning, fueling,
and endowing tirade
erupted earlier today – 4:00 A.M.
spouse, racket she made
November 25th, 2019 waylaid
ordinary placid quiescent ruminative...
state, whereat as iterated I conveyed
or tried to elaborate intense anguish
thorny debacle arose
filleted here at Grosse and Quade
owned Schwenksville property.
I hear once more the lyrics of this song I'm listening to-
a gentle blast from my very youthful past,
and I am back in middle school,
an attractive skinny girl
despite the horn rimmed glasses
which have gotten me the nickname of “Four eyes”
and the large beehive hairdo
I have to rat with my comb painstakingly each morning.
I am in the music room of my eighth grade
practicing with Swing Choir,
the group that I’ve auditioned for
and am thrilled to be a part of.
A cute boy stands tall among all the others
in the back row of the male section.
We are all singing -
“This Guy’s in Love.
This guy’s in love with You.”
My heart is pounding with the melody
as I watch my current crush so longingly,
imagining he sings the words to me alone.
Could my life yet to be lived
ever compare to my happiest vivid daydreams?
“When you smile, I can tell we know each other very well.”
I think he sees me watching him. I look away.
This scene will be replayed again and again
in other classrooms
where I’ll be watching other boys
that I'll be crushing on
and hoping they are watching me as well.
But now, just for now -
I sing the words with my group -
“Don’t let my heart keep breaking. . .”
My soul fills with teenage angst.
Oh to be young again
with such sweet aching
not yet knowing I’ll soon be getting walked home from school
by that cute tall boy
named Chico.
Written Feb. 7, 2016 for the Solitary Moments Poetry Contest of Mystic Rose
The song is "This Guy's in Love" written by Burt Bacharach
and performed byHerb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass. (please hear it in the link above)
Some don't think I'm funny
But that's not true at all
Others think I'm serious
Although I'm having a ball
I have a sense of humor
Even though it is my own
I sometimes laugh quite loudly
Mostly when I am alone
When I see other's antics
It's not my wish to be rude
So I listen to each word
And to their actions I am glued
I keep my thoughts to myself
Most of the laughter is inside
For my inner comedian
Is the one enjoying the ride
All my gathered material
The observations I have made
Conversations and actions
In my mind are all replayed
By reading my words with intent
You'll witness the humour within
My methods are somewhat subtle
For my content is paper thin
He returned to his quite recent creation
Just to make check on the current situation.
Tigrons slid in from the plains to lie at their ease
Away from midday sun under those singing trees,
Stretching lazily leisurely showing razored claw
In unconscious reminder of nature in the raw.
The ko-ko-ko birds still made their daily run
Fast blonde flashes in that pulsing square sun;
The fleecy white clouds made the long grass wet
Releasing their loads on that very second preset.
The singing trees moved and swayed
In the breeze that quite gently played
And filled the air with their song
That played and replayed all day long.
And in their Eden Garden the Adam and the Eve,
Still naked in their ignorance, made him believe
That maybe this time this world could be free
From the bondage of that wild knowledge tree.
As the sky filled with that square white moon
The singing trees changed to their nocturnal tune
And under that gentle white light
This world slipped slowly into night.
He noted down his next time of review
And with a small sigh quickly withdrew.
Four hundred thousand waking hours passed
A blink of an eye, it seemed so fast
Between when he was born to the month he would die
His mind replayed it as his sons gathered by.
He said "I raised you well, but there’s no rule
To prevent all mistakes, to foolproof a fool.
Jim, there was no advice I could share
You kept hitting walls where there was nothing but air.
And Greg, reality gave you a sharp blow
You fell for good looks, a person you didn’t know
Blind assumptions took you off reason's track
You filled blanks with wishes instead of with facts.
You both were naive, that was your curse
Didn't realize personality is so diverse
The rainforest may have species of very kind.
But vastly outnumbered by permutations of the mind.
Greg and Jim were dismayed, they sat on the couch
They had always seen dad as a lovable grouch
But all this negativity seemed surreal
At death's door, didn't he care how he made them feel?
Dad added, "I look back, no way to make amends
My life was a train wreck with doom to my friends
I criticize you, but I didn’t know me.
I failed life's tests, who I wanted to be.
Jim and Greg met each other’s eyes, unsure what to say,
The weight of his words would not soon drift away.
Then he grasped their hands, and gave them a smile
A boost better than words, if for only a while.
If ever I had two hours with you… or three,
the vacancy of this night and lulled
shores would be refilled with the gushing
of frosted air on our reveries past;
the multitude of amiable stars bestowing
a hush of surrender... raged midnights ending
into fresh mornings backed by our
theme song replayed.
Then, to recall the sevens and nines of time
cutting our names into crumpled paper: a departure
of hearts traveling in different territories.
We inched away,
not because of lack for vows marked in deepest
sands. But… by fate’s desire to shelter you in
a faraway place, while I... I burned skies
through the pain and beauty
the long distance of regrets had claimed.
If and when we unite again, two or three hours
by God's grace, oh the fluttering of a thousand
fearless thoughts would not be enough to say you were
the branch that got away, and I was your last rose
that lost its stem.
Perhaps, now is the moment to clutch the moment?
Regina Riddle's Seize The Day ( Carpe Diem)
10/26/2014
In times of impending demise, you might see your life being replayed across your mind. Sometimes it’s in fast forward, sometimes in slow motion, sometimes both at once. Life flashes in random order, constantly cycling in and out like an out of control tilt-a-whirl at the county fair. You’d think that with all those moments stuck on a playback loop that one would walk away with perfect recall of all the events. Not true. You can remember things like the first time you pooped in your diaper and that piece of Bazooka Joe bubble gum you pocketed when you were ten years old. Every detail, no matter how small or insignificant will come flooding back. But what the heck just went down, draws a complete blank.
when death feels certain,
life flashes by in seconds—
don’t regret the show