Long Riot Poems
Long Riot Poems. Below are the most popular long Riot by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Riot poems by poem length and keyword.
I am a Red Red Rose
I am a red red rose
A beauty to behold
My texture captivates
My scent invigorates
Petals, a velvet red
Coverings for your bed
Leaves an emerald garb
That hide the hidden barb
Though thorns be on my stem
Touch me, ignoring them
Please, handle me with care
Dethorned, my beauty bare
I am a red red rose
Your passion for me grows
Rose water from me drips *
And wets your precious lips
I beautify your soul
My presence makes you whole
I am a red red rose
For Mystic Rose's Rose Contest
Reposted on December 17, 2014
Not entered before in a contest
PS...A different take on Robert Burns famous Poem, A Red Red Rose.
*By the way, rose water is used in many desserts in Lebanon. One of my favorites, Mouhalabieh, a white custard that is topped with syrup and pistachios, contains rose water. Yummy....Let your mind run riot with that one! :)
Wood chew believe aye took stock...?
Upon a whim, an endeavor
arose to communicate
cumulative key whatchamacallit,
yea...nuggets o' wisdom, asper
about yours truly no reason, nor
rhyme unwinding, tooling sputtering
most vexing mystery more
baffling than any whodunnit,
asper in this ole rattle trap to whit,
which drab filler hoop fully doth newt
induce thee to vomit
while this true bore doer sits here twit
tilling thumbs, one doubting Thomas
addresses, (albeit favoring abridged titbit
alphabetized list), I attempt (collusion
gluten, GMO free), aye solicit
motley fool, not to accrue superprofit
unbiased worded atypical, bohemian
rhapsodizing non mercurial portrait
most challenged since umpteenth orbit
whiling away this last May 2019 Tuesday
around nearest star circle game
impossible mission exit
or at least until after exhausting
without courting death
senescence to delimit.
ME? ANTI THE FOLLOWING::>
aggression, alcohol, apartheid, authoritarianism,
billboard, bureaucratic, censorship, church,
cigarette, anticlericalism, anticolonialism,
commercialism, communism, conglomerate,
conventional, corporate, corruption,
counterfeiting, crime, cruelty, cult, defamation,
diarrheal, dogmatic, dumping, elitism,
establishmentarianism, fascism,
fashion, formalist, fraud, fur, guerilla, gun,
hierarchical, hijack, hunter, king, illiterate,
litter, lynching, macho, materialism, militarism,
miscegenation, monarchical, monopolist,
mosquito, nationalist, nepotism, noise, nuclear,
obesity, pesticide, plague, pollution, poverty,
racist, racketeering, rape, religion, revolutionary,
riot, royalist, sexist, shoplifting, slavery, smog,
smoker, smuggling, snob, subversive, tax,
terrorist, theft, tobacco, totalitarian, violence,
vivisectionist, welfare.
What About You?
She sits in her room alone and waiting
Bursting to bloom is her anticipating
This girl so young just a teenager at heart
One day to adventure for her life to kick start
She grew up reserved never venturing out
Believing she was ugly her mind so in doubt
Boyfriends she's never had close friends kept at bay
No childhood deserves this not growing up to play
Then out of the blue to the school ball she is asked
Her mind now in circles showing it's protective mask
The night arrives, in turmoil she sits waiting
So beautifully dressed, soon to be dating
Her apprehension runs riot, her life crying for change
To live so normal and rid this inner derange
As she turns to the door her eyes starting to tear
A glow lights the room as a beautiful red rose appears
Slowly she turns as she captures the sight
This flower so red emitting this light
This beauty of nature with it's petals so bloomed
Radiate as they grace around her bedroom
At the top of the stairs soon she'll walk down
Into the arms of her date, wearing the most beautiful gown
To the school ball she will go, with her chaperone
When the red rose was released, no longer she'll be alone
ten years later
still missing her
i pick the most beautiful flowers
pink and green representation
i erase a small quadrilateral of the world so i can spend some time with you
in those moments, it is so perfectly quiet
in my head, there is not even a hint of a riot
i converse with you in a vibe so still and just reflect
man....ten years later....life itself is just not the same
she made it seem that way despite the inevitable changes
without her i am sometimes lost
without her i am left confused at times not knowing what to do
what gets me through is knowing that she is watching right there with God
i wonder if she is proud of me now instead of disappointed
no matter what the answer may be, my love for her blooms brightly with monumental maturation....
A walk on a nature trail, serene and assuasive,
Where whispers of leaves create music.
Mother Nature herself, the maestro,
Conducts a symphony in hues of green and yellow.
Spring unfurls her flamboyant canvas of brilliant tones,
A rich riot of splendid blossoms.
Hushed drums of cool breezes play their part,
As we move forward, spirit becomes subdued and soft.
Birds, busy in their fervent courtship, singing love songs,
Weave notes, that beat, ascend and belong.
Their melodies echo through the air,
A staggering symphony, for a listening ear.
Wildflowers, like talented artists, emboss the way,
Each petal a stroke, a grand display.
The trail leads, a green-grass hill we climb,
Views of the indigo lake bring a breathtaking vibe.
Meandering effortlessly, a buoyant brook drifts,
Stirring the grace of the forest life.
Adorning landscape with wild cascades,
An amazement of wilderness, where time slowly fades.
In a distance, an attractive little bridge awaits,
A promise, a wooden pass to fate.
We cross cautiously as the trail curves,
Savoring this clairvoyant forest, brimming with cheer.
Our footsteps imprinted in dirt, a whispered tale,
A walk on a nature trail—a sweet serenade.
In one short day, the weather changed
From dark to bright and rearranged
Our attitudes and clothes we wear
To fit the hours, foul or fair.
It started out with quite a storm
But temps unusually warm,
As rain ran riot ‘cross the road
And lawns turned into puddle mode.
The winds whipped wildly; from each tree
The squirrels scampered crazily.
Umbrellas, often such a perk,
On days like this, don’t really work.
As hours passed by, with me inside,
The rain decided to subside
And then the wind slowed down, as well,
For good, as far as I could tell.
The sun peeked out, for just a while.
I got my walk in, with a smile,
But heading back, dark clouds appeared,
This fickle weather really weird.
And now tonight, some thunder struck
And raindrops we will have to duck.
Tomorrow, I can just surmise,
Will bring another new surprise.
One of the joys of summer are lightning bugs.Do you remember, as a child, chasing them on a balmy evening? They are so elusive. When you see one in front of you and go to catch it, it would be gone; only to blink just a foot or so away from you. Carefully we would put some in a jar with holes poked into the lid for air. Then we would watch them light up. Never leave them in the jar very long, or they will die.
Nature’s bounty is showing in the colorful blooming meadows.Grasses and wild flowers are a riot of color; there are Daisies, Yarrow, blue Chicory and black eyed Susans displaying their charms.It seems impossible to remember that the mere beginnings of all this abundance was only a few months ago.
July days are full and long. The water in the creek flows lazily, just like the cottony clouds that glide across the blue sky. Milkweeds, Honeysuckle and Hay scent the air. Hay has such an incomparable scent.It brings back visions of climbing up into the hayloft as a child. Playing in the hay, tunneling through it, finding “Daddy Long legs’” and the kittens that the barn cat hid there.
Blackberries are ripening in the berry patch For a time we did a lot of picking. We enjoyed many delicacies that we could prepare with them. Pies, cobblers, and cakes as well a s jams, juices and wine. Going to the berry patch was a welcome, relaxing activity after work. Most of the time it would be very hot there. Occasionally a snake would be sleeping on a branch nearby, causing me to move on slowly. I would stomp my feet, hoping they would move out of my way. Bugs and mosquitoes would buzz all around us.
Summertime is full of joy.The sounds of crickets and cicadas are the music of summer. There are baby animals., tottering around, growing up, discovering. Flowers gladden our hearts with their beauty. We swim in pools, ponds and creeks to cool off and refresh us. We can pick homegrown fruits and vegetables for our table.
And there is the toddler following a butterfly, calling: “Wait for me butterfly, come back here! You are going too fast!”
Is anybody out there
Please come and find me then
I'm lost in the wildernesses
I'm just filled with bitterness
Left to fend for myself
That's a problem in itself
Can't keep going it has to stop
I'm just about ready to drop
Medication to keep me quiet
Like the bipolar me would cause a riot
Sitting quietly like a mouse
Secluded to just one room in my house
Haven't seen the outside since god knows when
My room has become my safe pen
Alone to fester on how I feel
But I have problem believing what is real
Reality has become a blur
When I talk all I do is slur
Sleep is a thing of the past
Nighttime is the most dangerous part
8 hours of silence in the dark
The deathly silence leaves its mark
8 hours of twiddling my thumbs
8 hours until morning comes
The day begins as the last one ended
Normality for now is suspended
Morning comes and so do the jitters
I'm just walking through revolving mirrors
1 week until they decide
On if I will live or if I will die
Will they help to make this stop
Or will they just leave me to drop
Day by day is how ill take it
They say you have to fake it to make it
So that's what I'll do to get to the end
Any help before would be a god send
The noise in my head has turned to static
The voices make me sound dramatic
The hallucinations are getting worse
And that is how I'll end this verse
Is anybody out there
Please come find me then
I'm lost in the wildernesses I can't get free
Please will someone come and find me
In this blossom spring, you ask the question,
like a gardener checking a withered vine
"Are you okay?" and for a moment,
the gate is unlocked, the choice is mine.
But how do I speak across this distance,
to a shore you've walled, a star gone cold?
I'm trapped within your line of sight,
yet feel like a ghost the silence holds.
I do not need your silver reach,
or pockets deep to pull me through.
My burdens aren't weights for you to carry,
just shadows a shoulder could subdue.
I need the warmth within the chest,
the anchor of arms, the quiet stay.
But you stand forbidden, far and safe,
from storms I never learned to say.
I am an old man out of your league,
orbiting a light that won't descend,
watching you love a ghost I can't see,
wondering if our "us" has met its end.
We sit within this shared degree
of singleness and separate stone—
a "we" that has no room for me,
two shadows, together and alone.
The walls aren't brick, but space and hush,
a haunting math where one plus one stays one.
Outside, the riot of green is loud,
but here, the winter has already begun.
10 days later i could be dead
cracked bones with bugs in my head
laying with my hands on my heart
forever resting till death i part
9 days later i will be alive
feeling numb but completely in life
all my shattered dreams in a can
stitch them together and hope it will mend
8 days later i could be lost
gave all my hopes for a bitter cost
battle in the arena, a match to a demon
set fire to a land that was my kingdom
7 days later i would be a beam
something in the night that's felt but never seen
disappearing to and from a single cell
coming back to and leaving from hell
6 days later i drew a picture
a portrait of tears poured by a pitcher
from a sea that never moves its tides
from a tide that was never moved from the light
5 days later i will riot
against the society that made me a pirate
a lone in a sea, and i quest for jewels
a lone in a sea, a reputation to be cruel
4 days later i feel at bliss
every now and then i reminiscence
feel at peace knowing it will end soon
so in my life in the dark, i appreciate the moon
3 days later i destroy my fearless hopes
i stand unaware in the incoming smoke
the gas and liquids make all my senses
i separated the solids to up my defenses
2 days later i count my creations
80 lines and all my vibrations
i add up the sum that leaves me to know
that i contorted myself to conjure a foe
1 day later i sit in silence all day
look off in the distance and see the people play
nothing inside me but repetition
outside the box was the endless
so today until i print all my being
try to put into words how i am feeling
10 days later i could be alive
but i know 10 days later that could all be a lie
10 days later something can change
and 10 days later it could remain the same
but life and death are set in stone
and one day
10 days
will be all you own