Long Resort Poems
Long Resort Poems. Below are the most popular long Resort by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Resort poems by poem length and keyword.
Humdumpty was an analyst, a Cambridge Ph.D.,
A noted bio-atomist, whatever that might be.
Indeed, from earliest childhood it was his single aim
To analyze no matter what might enter his domain.
He analyzed his father's watch and next the neighbour's cat.
Ah! Little more was seen or heard of Felix after that.
Astounding learned pedagogues, hard pressed to keep his pace,
Humdumpty grew up daily--in knowledge if not grace.
And then at university his intellectual power
Decimated Einstein and the works of Schopenhauer.
With ease that was amazing he romped a Double First,
And yet, for all his learning, nought quenched his burning thirst.
Despite the storm, and tumult that marked his inner life,
Humdumpty found the leisure to woo--and win--a wife.
He loved her--Oh! so dearly, his idol and his joy!
Alack! How oft our dearest 'tis we ourselves destroy.
One day in stormy weather he raised his eyes above,
And posed himself the riddle: "What constitutes her love?"
One night--to angels' weeping--the dark thought seized his mind:
"By scalpel and analysis the answer I shall find."
Full soon she took a sleeping draught, and when the time was due,
He set about his gruesome task, inspired by love so true.
How tenderly, how lovingly, he cut into her heart.
With what profound emotion he set his spouse apart.
To isolate that molecule in which all love resides
He scrutinized each corpuscle, and did much else besides.
All data was computerized, and ere a while had passed,
A reasonable hypothesis was imminent at last.
How tantalizing is the truth, how far--and yet, how near!
'Twas in the corner of his eye--and then would disappear.
It dawned at last upon him, his efforts would prove vain,
Unless he somehow managed to join her up again.
Of every art that served this end he tried the whole range through.
He first tried biophysics--and his last resort was glue.
Alas, alas, Humdumpty! There is a fateful law:
Some things men set asunder no mortal can restore.
They did not need a hangman or Madame Guillotine.
Before another week had passed, he died of bitter spleen.
Now some say he's in Heaven, and others, he's in Hell.
I'm not a theologian, it's difficult to tell.
For sure, he cut his dear wife up, and who would call that right?
But was it not his quest for truth that brought about his plight?
Un-revelling Rivalry
Who am I to speak of historical rivalry I cannot contest
all the clever myriad truths conjectures and refutations
about the two masters the two foes with huge presence
when history acclaim appreciation is subjective personal
up front and back stage up all artistic ins downs and outs
My parachute helicopter mind wants to give first prize to
to Leonardo for free flying inventive rebellious mind and
he helped me with anatomy dissecting corpses and all I can
still smell fragrant formalin preserving miraculous tissues
when I had to learn those medical terms and cut into flesh
But then Michelangelo shares my middle name though I am
no angel but who can proclaim that I may never be biased in
associate vein in quite shallow post-post-modernist anticipation
when the great man also painted in narrative personification
Deluge Drunken Noah Creation of Adam Madonna and Child
Okay family man that I am I resort to holidays with my children
and am so sad to admit that we never so far made it to Rome
sacrilegious or not but how could I pass The Last Judgement
when seeing Sistine Chapel’s altar would alter the verdict
of Ignoramus with leisure time spent on Normandy’s beaches
Well now I recall that trip to Euro Disney when we walked
from Tour Eiffel to the Louvre where I temporarily lost my
little boy Moritz and almost my temper when the devious villain
hid from the artwork was sulking because the Mona Lisa was
so small and he was so tiny could not see amongst masses of
tourists the smile and metaphorical writing on canvas and wall
So in all earnest while giving a toss I could-would have to resort
to tossing a coin in regards to whom why how and whenever the
rivals could measure up to history my history my story and life
Even and because of my whacky literal critical stance and my
stanzas bordering on mockery heresy subtle subjectification
you must remember that I have one tongue and two cheeks
And while seemingly ridiculing an important theme of historical
prominence I still bow in awe admiration yet lodge my own angle
perspective whereas the two grand master’s problem was not
what I would behold in my eyes and my soul in full radiance but
that they chose not to consider each others contrasting beauty
as compliment complement Leonardo Angelo Michel Da Vinci
01st September 2016
The human body was built with a stretching ability. Skin and muscles are very elastic and prepared for adversities. Bones can be fractured and broken, but mends back in time. Ache me; bend me; mend me; brake me; mane me; pain me; I bounce back. Everything within me connects, communicates, and confers with each other. But I am wondering about 'the goings on' of a can of corn, if dented. If a dent is made in a can of corn, does it force the kernels to draw closer together? It's like this. While cleaning our food closet one day, I overheard a most interesting dialogue between designated speakers for the corn and the water.
"What just happened here?" said the whole kernel can of corn to the water in the can. "I felt a deep stump that shook us as you moved like a high tidal wave." "I know! said the water, it was as if someone just threw us into a large tote of other cans". "I don't know what's going on here, but I sure wish it would stop. We have feelings too?" They seem to care more about a dent in their cars than one in a can containing their food supply. Go figure".
After a pause, the corn kernel said, "Anyway, the dent they caused just took away some of our already crowded space. Moreover, I suspect before long someone will come looking to eat us, notwithstanding the dent in the can. Until then we'll just have to deal with the way things are. "On the other hand, said the water, they might decide to eat us as a last resort, like when things are bad and money is tight. In that way we'll last longer. I must say that as a result of our can being dent, not only have we both been stirred, but we have been forced to communicate like humans do. Maybe we'll also learn to bounce back like humans". And the corn kernel said, "Perhaps so, and I guess if you are going to get eaten, later is better for us."
12242017 PS Contest, Dented Cans, John Lawless (Personification)
There's a lot going on in the world, so I feel the need to write
I'm going to give my food for thought, while the government just feed you lies
I'm not dumb enough to believe a word that comes from Theresa May
Believe or don't believe, we're still screwed either way
We're all forced to suffer because of the actions of the Government
We live in the dirty streets, nowhere near a palace like Buckingham
Wages are getting lower but taxes are doubling
Look at all the dirt we're shovelling
We're told not to care about all the innocent kids being killed in Libya
We're told not to worry about the deals going on in Syria
Facebook won't allow you to change your profile picture to remember the ones who get killed in Nigeria
The government will make you believe that Europe is the only place that Bombs happen
Why are we told to hate a whole group of people for one's actions?
We Kill each other daily, so why would I fear an enemy?
How can I look forward to tomorrow when I can't clear my memory?
Politicians say they'll build new houses to home the homeless and it sounds Promising
But then a month later, that plan is scrapped and they're demolishing
Soldiers who fought for the country
Will be left homeless and made to go hungry
Never will i duck the coward Donald
I can't believe some actually support this force of evil
Some things get lost in thoughts
But he's at the golf resort
He doesn't care that there are people drowning in Puerto Rico
The president of the United states doesn't even support the people
He doesn't care who goes without
You held the door open for him just for him to show you out
Being a good human being is something he doesn't know about
They're going to hate me for writing this, I may end up below the ground
I'd rather die speaking my mind, than some meaningless shallow rhymes
I don't give a damn what a Kardashian is wearing for Valentines
I care about freedom of speech and I hope someone will free Palestine
I scream free Palestine and that's something some will want to kill me for
If I'm laying on the ground and my blood is spilling on the floor
It just means I died as a man and my message was too great
I won't apologize for speaking my mind, even if this makes you hate
I refuse to be quiet or stay blind
Someone tell the politicians it's question time
I Don't Believe in Slavery
By Franklin Price
07/01/2020
I don't believe in slavery of any class or creed.
Slavery most always comes from power and from greed.
When the rich don't have the riches, to control what they survey,
They oft resort to slavery, as they did back in the day.
The ones who built the pyramids and most the wonders of this earth
The powerful said they did it, but enslavement gave them birth.
Not so much has changed today, the rich and powerful control.
They take advantage of the lower class and their methods take a toll
When profit margins start to sag, the workers are first hit
No way the rich should suffer, no not even just a bit
Send the work to foreign nations where their dollar is our dime
Sounds like slavery to me, for the rich it's not a crime
To put our own on welfare doesn't cost the rich a cent.
For the taxes that they pay, doesn't even make a dent.
The middle class will pay for it, that's the way that it should be
It's time we stood up for ourselves, and threw the tea into the sea
I don't know many of the rich, who have made it on their own,
Except for some who bet on stocks, or won the lottery alone.
Most on the backs of others, while staying out of touch
Not paying out a living wage; Is that Slavery?; not so much.
At least that's the way they see it, yes I'm speaking of the rich
And our government who helps them, now isn't life a .
Who do you think finances them, these leaders of the land.
If you think the ones on welfare, then you just don't understand.
The longer they are on the hill, the richer they become.
Enslaved there by the richest, they've forgotten where they're from
They think they are the royalty, ones who control the land.
We must oust them in November. It's time the people took a stand.
We're supposed to be the government, instead we're just its slaves
If we don't stand up to Washington, we'll take enslavement to our graves
We've got to pull together, red and yellow, black and white
Rid ourselves tyranny, put some new blood in the fight
I hope it's not too late for us, and this country that we love
The statues and the monuments, remnants of much push and shove.
Our way of life's not easy, we must retain the peoples' power.
What happens in November could be our worst or finest hour.
Part 1: The Event
Back in younger age days,
Going to grad school in Boulder, Colo, was no fun,
Lots of course work, research work, little time to socialize,
Professor had to meet his grants timeline,
One nice Saturday morning, a few grad schoolgirls,
Called and invited me to go to Copper mountain ski resort,
How can I resist such a social invitation,
I was ready in the morning dressed up in my winter gears,
We hit the road, within couple of hours, we were at the ski resort,
Went down to rental shop, got fitted with skis and matching boots,
I had not confessed yet to the girls that I was still learning how to ski,
We went up the chairlift, I was helped at the top by attendants to get on my feet,
The girls were good, they took off on their skis down the slope,
I started down slowly on the slopes, till I reached a junction of treks,
I started one way, changed my mind to take another trek,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, no one dared to lift him up,
I was buried in the snow with face down, till an older gentleman came by,
Turned me around, took my skis off, called the ski patrol,
By the late afternoon, girls came to the clinic looking for me,
Advised me, I should have stayed down, and practiced on beginner’s slopes.
Part 2: The Hindsight and lessons learned
I was on crutches for a month,
The diagnosis of hyperextended ligaments was not true,
I had knee surgery to get back hopping in a few weeks.
The lesson I learned, is never show off, know your limits,
Fun can await on some other day,
There was human temptation at that age,
To impress the girls, maybe make a girlfriend,
One girl would come once in a while,
Bring food and consolation for my well-being,
She gradually disappeared; I was back to work.
Now in hindsight, it was a great lesson learned,
People like the winners, not the losers,
Exceed in your effort, show your talent where you are good,
Research is hard work, like poets writing poems,
With only a few readers and good comments,
I found solace in my effort and kept myself going in life.
Pretend not to be master of all the knowledge needed,
Talk to the juniors and experts, if help is required,
Assuming that you can do it all on your own,
It is inviting trouble to a bright future.
I never knew she was bleeding and pleading,
Until I turned to see the blood in her eyes,
And the agonies tearing her apart.
Rejected and dejected, she gasps for breath,
Humiliation and intimidation - written all over her gloomy soul,
Like curves of interpenetration of a sphere intersecting a cone.
Still licking wounds from savagery and ruthlessness,
The last dead body in her hands dropped on the floor,
That was her seven years old son,
The sting and pang of cruelty penetrates my brain,
Leaving me with lasting pains that remain,
Because she had been starving for months,
With oppression stronger than death.
Her tears were like a river overflowing its banks,
And she asked me,
“Could this be the way God wants it?”
Why am I denied of my rights, for a fair fight?
I sighed deeply, from a kind of mental depletion,
My hurrying thoughts clamored for utterance,
But my heart and lips were full of speechless sorrow.
As the chill of the night crept in from the street,
To all the houses that scattered over the slums like ant-hills,
The sun laid golden-soft over the huddled hills of the West coast,
More gunshots thundered across the neighbourhood,
A thin shrill voice like the cry of an expiring mouse,
was only heard from a very far distance.
She took me to her backyard,
Showed me graves on the ground with monumental inscriptions,
And she said;
There lies my daughter, who was raped to death,
There lies my husband, who stood for justice,
There lays my son who died in peace keeping,
Can all these valuable bloods be wasted for nothing’s sake?
Surviving schools were dilapidated,
The past is horrible, the future is uncertain,
The present is life threatening and monstrous,
Prison walls are raised daily in all the provinces,
The few privileged students in institutions are studying Act of War
‘Casus belli’
The economy is dropping as more jobless youths resort to crimes,
Hospitals and the strict streets are getting more congested with dead bodies.
All these made me to wonder,
If we are all living to die or dying to live,
I still ask,
Is there a place for the women, their rights and joy in the society?
Because the pains, brutality and humiliation are unbearable,
Surprisingly, her name was Hope,
But honestly, she was hopeless.
Once again the annual holidays came, a time of great cheer
We, the batch mates of 1976 planned a mega get together
We wanted to make it an occasion to be memorized for ever
Tracking old friends was indeed a laborious endeavor
A lot of discussion and phone calls had to be made
And finally the expected date and venue were conveyed
We decided to meet at a holiday resort/restaurant
In Kovalm, on the shores of the blue water crescent
Beside the sea strand with restless waves heaving-
A respite from the tumultuous striving for a living
The gathering started off as a trickle, some came in time, some, late
Many faces were beyond recognition and found hard to relate
With nostalgic memories crowding in our hearts
And emotions of joy and longing choking our throats
We entered the conference hall in small streams
Its walls resounding with expletives of shouts, howls and screams
We were all set to partake in a communion beyond words and thought
And turn the pages of the past with memories fraught
Once everyone was seated inside, the formal session began
Followed by a self introduction, each trying to be as elaborate as one can
Travelling down the memory lane and helping the group reach back
The memory files, long forgotten and buried in the unused stack
In that salubrious ambiance we were all inclined to renew old ties
And rekindle friendship’s flagging flame before it dies
Felt we were still young with balding heads and graying hair
Expanding waistlines and bodies that needed constant repair
We remembered those who were deleted forever from life’s scroll
And thanked God for having got a chance to meet within that hall
The whole day, we sat and talked, sharing memories of our younger years
Gloating on and on about our literature class and our beloved teachers
We didn’t know that time was speeding past like a sprinting hound
With a sumptuous dinner, our session was finally wound round
And with a tearful goodbye, we bade adieu to all our batch mates
With a resolve to meet again whenever such a chance awaits
Though have traveled far and wide with family during vacations
This get together after decades stays happier beyond all proportions
Jan. 27.2022
My Favorite Vacation Poetry Contest
Sponsor- L. Milton Hankins
(witch role an unavoidable mandatory phase)
that nowadays breaks the piggybank
like a dropped fragile vase
you most likely nod assent if offspring grown,
or ponder new found challenge
expectant motherhood costs of progeny
take the following precendent all ways.
deux daughters desiduous teeth comprise
sum total of forty milky pearl white
whereat each healthy tooth
a miraculous bite size bit
of jaw dropping wizardry to in vite
a tasty morsel to get chewed,
until at some arbitrary time
(incumbent on each individual biological clock),
the second set thwart aside
(or sometime literally override)
these baby choppers right
fully as sought after treatures for the tooth fairy
(oft time disguised as part
of canine corp) offer sterling sight,
but fascinating as each replicated, punctuated,
lacteal dentition adorned with a pulp,
dentin, enamel, and cementum quite
a complex miniature edifice,
or a more apropos metaphor fielding sprite
would be a picket fence with important slats,
and thus a challenging plight
arises when a child shows their mother or father
gapped smile, and understands
to place tooth under pillow at night
when quiet as a mouse (who to be honest
create scratching sounds) the might
tee tooth fairy doth descend (nowadays
resort to global positioning
satelline application)
to find their way without turning on the light
soundless and still as a dust mote
feign being a knight
less to rescue a damsel, maybe
one baby step ahead of her/his insight
expecting to disover a modest wad of cash,
if stood on end, rather sizable in height
and essentially necessitating po' papa
to take out a loan, or hope flight
of fancy wish to win the lottery,
which would exite
self or spouse, but reality in league
with the fickle finger of fate doth disappoint and delight
son or daughter boasting to classmates,
how the rich tooth fairy (iz actually a faux pas
sham shaman, dirt poor father, bled dry,
whose coutenance (visible after break of day)
reflects that of one who barely survived a catfight
with finances in tatters as if
one money hungry toothless fairy took a bite.
Form:
This Citizen Banker
safely in his compound doth attest,
sans donning his typical
gabbling and trumpeting ways,
while legally tendered,
currently being cents
less lee swept away
soul fully - bellow
wing from my chest
(with fortissimo, the
whirling wide webbed
watery tidal swells
rivaling the peak
of Mount Everest)
reef furring to being
nearly reduced to poverty
hence, essentially buck
king the tide while washed out -
since day short and dollar late
circumstances force me
to cash worthless buffalo chips
astutely as you correctly guessed
from deep pull horrible
United States economic situation,
where option non
existent against invest
ting, nesting, and squirreling
financial resources jest
accessible for wealthy people
to sync investment portfolios
region of popular tax haven,
viz Cayman Islands lest
hefty costs accrue
keeping scrupulously stashed re:
sources untouchable,
where Uncle Sam canst
access ex cell lent
healthy maturing outlook
king monies, and understandable
at rage against the machine
if rainy day funds messed
up, but solvent versus
debts drowning oneself
unable to stay afloat,
where declaring Chapter 7 bankruptcy
doomed to bobbing
within a sinking boat,
and where pointless
to pull out all the whistle stops
including abandoning resorting
to heroic measures
while additionally futile
to shed tears and emote
only kidding self to seek out goat
tam ma Buddha, nor will
I resort to gofundme
(cuz ma last name NOT Kardashian),
but matter of fact lee
roll with the figurative punches
feigning tubby Jew Dee
or an incarnation
of Muhammad Ali
during his ready for prime time Box
sing rebellious jabbering
left fist out fox
sing prize fighter un
defeated champ with mox
see, his champion modesty
oozed muscles like rocks,
a bankable one man
Gibraltar with precious
mettle to the core,
not wanting with his pugilistic,
yet homegrown genteel
ringing true mark
solid core state athletically valued
bankable bonded stocks.