Long Rim Poems

Long Rim Poems. Below are the most popular long Rim by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rim poems by poem length and keyword.


Basket Bucket Rim Rim

Hand's Up Dashing, Feat Moving, Ball Grasping .... Let's Soar!

Sound's Fill The Gymnasium, Nothing Blocks Our Chore!

Inside, Outside, .... Up And Down, Once, .... More!

Basket Bucket, Rim, Rim, Shoot From The Floor;
                                   Bounce Tap, Dribble Tap,
                                      Great We'll Score!

Past An Orange Ball,  Above Two Rim's Of Red.

Catching Signal's Sign's Running On The Power Lines.

Adding On The Score To Winning, ... Time.
Adding On The Score To Winning, .... Time!

A Chance Rest's Up To Win The Cash, Let's Jump!

Shuffling Feat Quick And Neat, Strongest On The Backboard Please!

Gain's From Our Strain's Leaving Nothing On The Past;

Up And Down The Backboard,  Up And Down The Backboard!
 

Gain's From Our Strain's Aren't Fading In The, .....

Basket Bucket Rim, Rim,

Shoot From The Floor.

Bounce Tap, Dribble Tap, .... Great We'll, .... Score!!
!
© Mike Reed  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ballad


Premium Member On the Fuzzy Rim of Reality

Looking hard too close
reality frays, unravels—
its seams loosening
jarring certainty open
imagination pours in.

Reality stays
sharp only when unchallenged
The moment you ask—
its borders smear and soften
its lines are smudged by your hands

Edges hard and sharp—
dim, drift, and start dissolving
with a close-up stare
inviting luck, risk, doubt, chance
to sway and reshape the view.

At the fuzzy edge
even time begins to shake—
fixed truths shudder free
all that is solid quivers
in the mirage deforming.

Relentless desire
makes things fall apart and bleed
with your inner want—
casting phantom shapes that stir
over the stark truth revealed.
Form: Tanka

South Rim North Face

I'm going to get a new subject
or an old one back.
All my poems are about him anyway,
And my poetry group might like to 
see something light out of me.
		
So maybe we could fall in love again.
We could descend together once more into
the canyon from the south rim,
deceptively easy and peaceful on the descent,
the return trip much, much the more difficult.
You could tell me again of your 
adventure that summer when your
friend slipped and you saved his
life with a twig and a prayer.
And we could drive again over the Rockies,
My stomach rising with the altitude
until it is at my throat at 14,000 cold 
feet in August, glaciers of black ice,
never thawed in thousands of years
contrast with our rented Ford Taurus.
In that place time changes nothing.
Down below, the only thing certain is change.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member THE FRAME OF HIS DAYS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The wire rims~
thin as a whisper,  
holding the weight of every page he turned,  
every clockface he squinted at before dawn.  

Now they sit,  
empty orbits on my desk.  
I lift them,  
and the world bends~  
not as he saw it,  
but as I imagine he did:  

The morning newsprint smudging into prayer,  
the stubborn lawnmower that refused to start,  
my childhood face,  
always slightly out of focus,  
as if love itself were a thing  
that needed adjusting.  

I wear them like a ghost.  
The bridge rests light,  
almost apologetic,  
as if they knew  
they were never meant to be mine.  

Through Pop’s lenses,  
the light is softer,  
the edges kinder.  
The coffee stains on the counter  
look like continents he never visited.  
The crossword puzzle~  
half-finished,  
pen dropped mid-clue~  
becomes a map of all the words  
he didn’t have time to say.  

I take them off.  
The room sharpens  
into my own life again,  
but for a moment,  
I swear,  
the air smelled like his aftershave,  
and the light was gold,  
the way it is  
just before it fades.

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