Long Revising Poems
Long Revising Poems. Below are the most popular long Revising by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Revising poems by poem length and keyword.
Poe was always revising his prose between publications. Here are the longest extended versions of sentences he shortened for their final publication in his lifetime:
"We loved each other with a love that was more than love, more love than fit in an empty grotes bag, more than the love of worms if you were a hungry, hungry catfish."
"I became insane, with long intervals of sanity, then more insanity, then sane for a while, then my brain got all twisted up and went mad, then I got better. I've lost track."
"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream, within another dream, within a rusty tubular tin box of sewing needles made into the handle of a doll's hairbrush."
"Believe only half of what you see, nothing of what you hear, three quarters of what you taste, one-tenth of what you feel, but the entirety of what you smell."
"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night, as for example bats, yes bats, did you know you could leave the cage door open in the bright of day and your bats will go nowhere."
"Sleep, those little slices of death, how I loathe them, also the neighbor's nippy little dog, egads I hate that dog."
"If you wish to forget anything on the Spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered, then tie it to Spot's collar, and turn him loose in some terrible neighborhood where people eat dogs."
"To elevate the soul, poetry is necessary, also those little candy root beer barrels."
"I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow, but it was Catterina that farted."
"I fell violently on my face, rolled to my side, grunted horrible grunts of gruntlyness, then flopped onto my back and waved my arms all about, still grunting."
"Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all, while Catterina licked her paws and I felt around in my pocket for my last dime but all I found was a raggedy little hole."
Everyday we wake up
We have a choice
To do something with ourselves
Or have no voice (no voice)
Let our obstacles pass us by
Or face them
We've all made mistakes
That can be erased
Or corrected
Get ready to receive exceedingly
Or what's unexpected
One thing I know for sure
With a pure heart
We can endure
Lets find out what the cause is
Turn these negatives into a positive
Look inside of you
See the image
Even if
Its not finish
Make the best of
What you see
Life is precious
And not guaranteed
Let us thank God
Lets resolve it
We can turn those
Negatives into a positive
Have you ever just
Looked at an image
And wonder why
Its picture perfect
Still found a problem with it
Was it worth it
Revising adding the resolution
To the conclusion
Of the picture
Print it out
Cherish the momentum
Something negative
Made perfect
You found out how to capture
No more negatives
You're going after
Look inside of you
See the image
Even if
Its not finish
Make the best of
What you see
Life is precious
And not guaranteed
Let us thank God
Lets resolve it
We can turn those
Negatives into a positive
Cant help what happen in the past
It cant determine
What you have
Been instilled
It just helps
You learn how to deal
With the negatives
Teaches you how to switch them out
Turn them into something you didn't know about
Its beauty
For your future
And your heart
No more not knowing where to start
Positive should surround you
We've all been in dark places
But he found you
Look inside of you
See the image
Even if
Its not finish
Make the best of
What you see
Life is precious
And not guaranteed
Let us thank God
Lets resolve it
We can turn those
Negatives into a positive
Written by:Concetta Hardnett
12/8/2015
Stand firm and stay strong
Don't do wrong
Because you don't know
What tomorrow may bring
Stay bold so you don't fold
Stay hold, on your ten toes
Facing the foes, making them woes
Which are opposition to your goals.
Life is not all about applause
But a lifetime course
The game is not to be liked
But to stay alive
So you can thrive and strive
Surviving to pay the price
For where you want to be or what you want.
Be proud of scars
They make you what you are
Walk with the smart and hardworking
Let go of your pride
Stay with the wise
So you can rise
Only then you'll be surprised
Because everything you lost starts revising.
1.
Rumor has it on heavens above
Among the angels’ divine sphere
That God after very much though
Decided in man’s life to interfere
2.
For He has observed Man’s mistakes
Which lately too many came to be
To endanger the whole of creation
Act with which God can never agree
3.
So the Lord has most recently chosen
The book of life before long to reprint
Revising certain of its very old chapters
While others out will leave, He has hint
4.
The concern of humans is now to know
Which chapters the book will not contain,
Which are going to be, somehow, revised
And which intact will forever remain
5.
What was heard through the vine though,
It was Man’s huge and unbearable vanity
That made our almighty Lord and creator
To finally exclude the chapter of humanity
6.
The reason our God in His infinitive wisdom
Reached such unexpected for Mankind conclusion
Is the fact that Man during his reign on earth
Has hurt our planet with his insensitive intrusion
7.
It might still be time for Man overall to be saved
If he started correcting his many mistakes soon
Beginning by respecting life and the whole planet
And stop behaving as a dim-witted buffoon.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
17 APRIL 2014
* According to UN’s most recent report (March 2014) “We are in an era where
climate change isn’t some kind of future hypothetical,” said Chris Field, one of
the two main authors of the report, and Rajendra Pachari chair of the IPCC
(Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) added: “Nobody on this planet
is going to be untouched by climate change.” For that UN suggested measures
to be taken immediately for to save the planet.
Moreover, the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences ( PNAS),
announced that " Researchers have found out that pollutants are strengthening storms ...plus endanger the health of people."
The shapes conform together;
each new curve fits in a curve.
Then many times, with haste, a piece is placed
which does not fit, and somehow, jars the rest.
More hours consumed- revising what was done.
Once again we straighten them;
reconstruct the missing scenes.
Though day by day, year after year it's worked,
so slowly forms the image that's been planned.
And often, when the challenge seems too great,
then it's put away from sight;
next new start falls into place
to quickly strengthen sharpness for the game.
With competence, we choose each fitting piece
and slow but sure, the shapes are interlocked;
each, a portion of the whole,
builds our everlasting scene.
Then, all that's hoped before the colors fade,
the portrait of our finished dream, well-made;
assembled, done, life's masterpiece revealed.
Shapes are firmly interlocked;
our life puzzle, now complete.
March 7, 2018
Rumor has it on heavens above
Among the angels’ divine sphere
That God after very much thought
Decided in man’s life to interfere
For He has observed Man’s mistakes
Which lately too many came to be
To endanger the whole of creation
Act with which God can never agree
So the Lord has most recently chosen
The book of life before long to reprint
Revising certain of its very old chapters
While others out will leave, He has hint
The concern of humans is now to know
Which chapters the book will not contain,
Which are going to be, somehow, revised
And which intact will forever remain
What was heard through the vine though,
It was Man’s huge and unbearable vanity
That made our almighty Lord and creator
To eliminate the chapter on humanity
The reason that our God in His infinitive wisdom
Reached such unexpected for Mankind conclusion
Is the fact that Man during his reign on earth
Has hurt our planet with his insensitive intrusion
It might still be time for Man overall to be saved
If he started correcting his many mistakes soon
Beginning by respecting life and the whole planet
And stop behaving as a dim-witted buffoon.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
09 June 2016
* Lately mankind is witnessing extreme natural phenomena around the world.
I though, after revising it, to repost this poem of mine so to remind ourselves
of the upcoming dangers.
** According to UN’s report “We are in an era where climate change isn’t some kind of future hypothetical,” said Chris Field, one of the two main authors of the report, and Rajendra Pachari chair of the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) added: “Nobody on this planet is going to be untouched by climate change.” For that UN suggested measures to be taken immediately for to save the planet.
Moreover, the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences ( PNAS),
announced that " Researchers have found out that pollutants are strengthening storms ...plus endanger the health of people."
***It is up to us to act in order to protect our planet, ourselves and our children!
Mama Africa; beauty is oneness
So much love she have got to share, pure she's just like gold
Her glowing black skin so unique and alluring;
Attracting, healing, elevating,inspiring and vibrant
She don't wanna be save don't save her
She don't wanna be save because she's the savior herself
Saving and nurturing all she loves without hollering
The awakened one brimming with energy to awaken more
Dark in complexion pure in consciousness, light giver
Mighty and powerful whoever she touches, change is attained
She's fearless and he-artful, showering love and care
Blesses whoever cross her path, generous deeds all she does
The walk she walks, shows her confidence, cat walk
Walking like a tigress She is, speaks life into the lifeless
Her wrath; enlightenment not punishment, without hesitating
Yelling the greatest inequality is trying to make
What is not equal to be equal, She revisionist
Revising every causes, breaking all chains
Pure and meek; All hail her holiness as she...
Wrestling all evil until the demons pants no more
Leaving every devil breathless.
It don't hurt.
—Johnny Thunders, lead guitarist of The Dolls, last words
My ancestors are made of malt and barley,
barely a drop of water left—
Midas in jorts and Nikes,
overplaying hands, turning miracles
into Milwaukee's Best.
I call it Bacchanal; they call it survival—
hedonistic sounds more literary
than alcoholic.
A heritage of rootless feet, ten men’s teeth
between twenty, all rotted. They were proud
of the wrong things. My father says
he could take a punch. I know better—
the arc of his arm, the twist of his knuckles.
I know he can throw one. I know
how to mold frozen peas to a blue eye,
how to save his day with this phrase:
It don’t hurt.
The confidence it took
to laugh with Huber Heights police—
****-talking mouthy kids like me,
while I brokered backyard deals,
babysat for safety, blowjobs as currency—
a language the dads understood.
Only way to get them to call 9-1-1,
report another pillar of their community,
when they heard my screams.
My tongue burns
with things I haven’t even said—
about fathers and fists, the slow murder
of tenderness. Just a pinch of it
could’ve saved one of us, maybe both—
at least given me a shot at rewriting this,
revising my father’s memory,
sloshing in my gut,
heavy as the blood-soaked prostate
of that long-gone man.
You can’t protect yourself
from this kind of inheritance,
same booze, different brand.
But I’m a woman with the gift of language
bad-lipping the devil who brought me to this dance—
still here, gaining muscle in my tongue,
writing my way out of this silence,
spilling ink like piss on a grave,
acting it like it matters—
I’m finally the one laughing, hoping
this page outlasts that mother****er’s legacy.
When it comes to love
Do we all know what is love in the first place?
We would say anything to prove our worth
Just so of love we thought so to chase…
And when it comes to sex
Do we know what is sex to uncover its mystery?
How often do we misuse love for that way to relax
Just so of sex to grow up from reality…
Men in their days craving for
Women in their ways to await so
Whether sex or love, after or before
Our minds belong the traitor we willingly enfold
There just isn’t a one good form in doing
Even the most blissful of marriage has its flaw
Is there honestly a perfect bond to be revising?
Or must we always admit to be humans afterall
I guess we never will know what to do
And there never will be a future to learn from
Humans to humanity is everyone to someone a fool
And the irony perhaps, is of this world we share to belong
Isn't life funny?
You spend hours and hours writing and revising
re-revising and rewriting
and then starting almost from scratch again
making sure each line sounds right
each and every word fits,
does what it's supposed to do,
and then of course making sure there's enough
imagery, symbolism, metaphor, and all that there gobbledy-gook
Finally (!) you post your poem
and then you have to edit it three or even four more times
anyway, because you saw something else that didn't quite
work right when you viewed it again...and again...and again...
On the proverbial other hand
You decide that you can't go to sleep without doing one more
so you dash something off in 7 minutes or less
you don't even check it for typos, errors, or omissions
and you figure, "What the H," at least I published another
one before I hit the hay...btw, you sleep like a rock that night...
The next morn you wake up with the nagging feeling that your magnum opus
is mediocre poetry at best, humdrum stuff:
Hmmmmmm
As for your 7-minute rush job -- Ehhhh, Phoooey! Fugettaboutit!
You regret posting it, and vow never to act so rashly again
At work though you reverse course and suddenly can't wait to see how many comments your masterpiece got..
So, after work when you get a chance to check
you find no comments on your you-know-what
and a dozen or so on your hack job.
Form: