Long Rumoured Poems
Long Rumoured Poems. Below are the most popular long Rumoured by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rumoured poems by poem length and keyword.
Aman was his real name, friends called him ‘Zero’,
Helping others was second nature to this little hero,
He had calmness and peace of a Himalayan sage,
It was surprising to see in someone that age!
The arithmetic teacher liked him the most,
Despite his brilliance he would never boast,
He was top in the class, yet remained humble,
He helped anyone who did not find it simple.
He put others first and held himself back,
In sports, in lessons or during the break,
All sailed through school and college
tests,
It was Aman who always helped us do our best!
Years passed, we parted and moved away
Memories of school and that of Aman would stay
We rarely met,time took us through
life,
Children, money, house, holidays and wife.
What became of Aman was not known to any,
Someone rumoured he was poor without a penny,
Someone said he turned selfish and left the country,
To seek fortune and wealth beyond the boundary!
Soon the real truth was beginning to emerge,
‘Zero’ had remained true to his nature and urge,
He abandoned opportunities of great wealth,
And set up a charity on his own in stealth.
All the money he earned with his talent in maths,
He donated to poor children to pave their paths,
He lived in a tiny house of his own by the lake,
His money was only for food and his basic take!
The Charity he created he named after a saint,
No mention of his name,his identity was faint,
No one knew him or talked about his
endeavours,
His efforts created doctors, artists, and leaders!
The world prospered because of this hero,
Like the nicknamed number he remained a true Zero,
His value on his own he diminished to nothing,
But unseen he helped others up their career grading!
There are many who claim to be truly great,
Because of their wealth, power and state,
Their meaning of life is to nurture their ego,
Caring and sharing for them is a big ‘no go’!
In this world we need more like Our man ‘Zero’,!
Who lives his life for others as a true hero,
His legacy is not money, wealth and fame
His legacy is to help and remain without a name!
Sponsor Cecelia Hopkins Drewer
Occasional poetry contest
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Stagecoach Mary
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: January/2014
Mary Fields,
(1832-1914).
born a slave,
somewhere in
Tennessee,
on the
Dunnes
Plantation -
She became
the first
African American
(male or female)
to deliver
the U. S. mail
in
America -
She was
a tall
woman,
over 6 Ft,
and
strong,
weighting
over
two hundred
pounds,
who
didn't shy
away
from
a brawl
or
two
if need
be -
She rolled
cigars,
chewed gum,
drank
plenty whiskey,
and
was famous
for
caring
a pistol,
and
rode a mule
name
Moses -
Mary,
had
also
a
pet
eagle,
and
a
penchant
for
baseball -
She
wore
buffalo
skin
dresses
that she
made
herself -
She
must have
been
an
intimidating
figure
to
behold -
In 1892,
Benjamin Harrison,
was
President -
During
those days,
Wells Fargo,
had
the
U.S. mail
contract,
and
needed
a
stagecoach
driver
with
a
strong will,
and
survival skills
for the
rough route
between
Great Falls,
Montana
to
Fort Benton -
They
chose
sixty year
old
Mary Fields,
who was
more than
capable
of
doing
the job -
It was
rumoured
that
she could
hitch
a team
of
horses
faster than
the boys
half her
age -
Mary,
became
a legend,
tales
of her
adventures
was
well known
in
all the
pioneer towns
of
Central
Montana
and
neighbouring
states -
Her
reliability
and
work ethics,
earned
her
the
name
"Stagecoach,"
Mary,
by
the folks
along
the mail
trail -
Mary,
and
her mule
Moses,
never missed
a day
of
work
in
nine years,
and
was never
held up -
Mary Fields,
retired
in
1901,
paving
the way
forward
for
African
American's
to
follow -
The full moon lit up the night sky
A wisp of cloud passed it by
To add to an eerie atmosphere
As if something gruesome might appear.
The gates to the graveyard groaned in the wind
As did the groans of the grave stones twinned
And the night demons were on the prowl
As the wolf cried out with a harrowing howl.
In the chapel attic a light appeared
And the girl in the red dress everyone feared
Was staring out with blood shot eyes
As the living dead heed her cries.
The door slams open, a priest appears
Holding a silver cross that the demon fears
As the holy water burns the skin
Of a possessed soul steeped in sin.
The ghoulish corpses to the girls demands
Descend on the chapel, as the devil commands
And the sweating brow of the terrified priest
Does little to ward off the devils beasts.
Reciting Latin, the priest persists
As the decomposed bodies in the graveyard mist
Aim to transform him into one of them
So he keeps reciting over and over again.
The girl morphs into the devils form
But the priest refuses to conform
And so with a scream the girl is thrust
Way up high, as she continues to cuss.
‘Lord save this soul’ the priest declares
‘Release this soul from this evil affair
And with this water I purify thee!’
And with that, in an instant, the devil did flee.
It is said that the girl did not perish
But became a nun of the local parish
And yet on every full moon night
It is rumoured that the nun was nowhere in sight.
And so tonight, as you lay in your bed
If you think this chapel is somewhere else instead
Beware as the full moon glows
That the girl in the red dress never shows!!
Paranormal Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Robert James Liguori
29th December 2021
- [ ]
We decided to turn Paradise into real estate.
Trouble was, we weren’t too sure where to find it,
Though experts had located it somewhere
Slightly west or east (left or right, looking north)
Of a point midway between the Euphrates and the Nile.
According to some, it moved sideways a few inches each year.
Computer systems would relieve us of Adam’s curse,
Which many wanted back as soon as they had been relieved,
And Eve discarded more and more items of covering,
And everything (a forgivable exaggeration)
In the garden (the upkeep of which had to be paid for by taxpayers)
Was lovely (or at least pleasant enough for most).
The Devil, who no longer existed (save as a literary metaphor)
Had been extradited on a drugs smuggling charge
And was last seen heading north.
The Forbidden Tree had been cordoned off by
Security people and no serpents were allowed near.
One day we woke up to discover
That Paradise had absconded in the night.
The more sensational headlines read PARADISE LOST,
But this was watered down in a subsequent official press statement
to read PARADISE MISLAID.
As to its new location, even the pundits failed to agree
Whether and if so, by how much, it had moved left or right.
It was even rumoured that the Devil
Had bribed the Angel at the Gate
and infiltrated the Intelligence Service.
The Ministry of Defence reported that a large flying object
Had appeared as a blob on the radar before slipping off,
And some wag even suggested that this was Paradise in fact.
Adam uttered “What the..” under his breath,
switched off the telly – it was an old war film –
And gave Eve a knowing look.
Eve didn’t fancy an early night,
And the ensuing row
Raised Cain.
Smelly Nelly was quite a charming girl,
She wore her hair in braids instead of curls,
Bathing several times per day in the Jewish way,
Yet many scoffed and sniffed,
exclaiming she smelt like manure in hay,
Nelly used expensive oils and attars,
some came from lands very far,
Her raiments were made of the finest silks
but people still told her she smelt
like days old milk,
They shunned and booed her,
talking behind her back,
hoping and praying she would have a heart attack,
The gripe they harbored had nothing to do with
Nelly's smell, it was because her family owned
several oil wells,
Neverthelss, she brought her own lunch which made
her naysayers feel as if they were incompetent bunches,
The farce of living as the Joneses do, never appealed to
Nelly because she knew the value of a dollar,
So while folks snickered and stared, corking their noses
causing her despair,
She sat and ate her snicker doodle sandwiches with her
little pinky waving in the air,
Smelly Nelly they chanted everyday, but she shrugged
her shoulders and continued on her merry way,
Cartier, Chanel and Youth Dew were always in her backpack,
but she knew it was hard for critics to understand her modest lifestyle,
They all rumoured that she lacked!
Afterall, she rather "enjoyed" their ignorance,
watching them treat her as if she were a rotten as mere happenstance,
But Nelly soon conquered her critics by blossoming into a
lovely swan, forgetting about the negativity, and meanness,
leaving the penny section to stew in their own mess......
His gold teeth glistened in the sun
As ‘Long Ben Avery’ turned
To face his captives, head lowered,
Their providence to learn
For Avery was a pirate bold
Trained in the Kings’ Navy
Who, disillusioned with his lot,
Captained a mutiny
He seized ‘The Fancy’, in Cadiz
An act both rare, and bold
Then set out on the briny sea
In search of ships with gold
He plundered every vessel met
With not one man set free
And soon, his name spread fear and dread
Across the seven seas
For two years, not a ship was safe
As treasure he amassed,
But his biggest booty taken
Would prove to be his last
He sailed down to the Mandab Strait
And other ships did meet
Who chose him as their Admiral,
To raid the India Fleet
The ‘Mogul’s’ flagships, tried to flee
Chased by the pirate fleet
But a brutal, two hour battle,
Ended with their defeat
The pirates tortured those they caught
Without a thought, or care
As they searched on board for treasure
For each, to glean their share
The ‘Mogul’, proffered swift revenge
Hunting the pirates down,
Swearing each villain, had to hang
For crimes against his crown
The pirates scattered, far and wide
To skirt captivity
But most were caught, and hung with rope
Strung from the nearest tree
But Avery, was never found
Or his share of the hoard
It’s rumoured that his crew killed him,
And threw him overboard
No matter what became of him
Or what, was ‘Long Ben’s’ fate
No man’s ever bettered his feat
In history, to date.
I been down that road before . . .
losing direction, deep in thought . . .
Not about what could be ours
but rather what it is we've got.
There seems nothing to be gained
in the lost riddles of the past;
Cast the demons to the sea,
hold good memories in your grasp.
Somewhere further down the road
you'll find a house on solid ground;
There's only one mystery . . .
in that the keys need to be found.
Many have passed by this way,
having left footprints in the frost;
They may be amongst the ones
who might now be forever lost.
The fields in the distance
have held the crops of yesteryear,
They have fed the multitudes
who had travelled from far and near.
Those whom tended to the growth
passed their knowledge on to the young;
Each can only hold out hope
they will continue what was begun.
As the road continues on
you meet the searchers here and there,
Everyone looks to the door
and there is tension in the air.
Some had searched the solid ground,
others crawled o'er the crop furrows;
Everywhere seemed to be searched
to the depths of badger's burrows.
As the sun sets in the west
you think about those keys once more;
Long ago it was rumoured
that they opened salvation's door.
The secret had been held tight,
well hidden in the evensong;
The singers know that those keys
were held in your heart all along.
A centipede found its way into our home
My hairs stood on end for hours on end!
And while we tried learning about it on Google search,
in a dark and damp crevice it made its perch
All the cyber net did was to amplify my fears
It also yielded that our azure electric-blue vermin
was quite hot on the market
Making me wonder how people could fancy
such a nightmarish pet!
For this wasn't just any pest
This had hazardous venom
I fearfully wondered if they had
its antidote serum.
We couldn't just ignore
a pair of painful pincers on the loose
There wasn't way to rope those
like bull horns in a noose.
Here was a venomous predator
complete with stinging apparatus
Its bite portended pain
and complications humongous!
It did appear to have those rumoured hundred segments
but count scaredy me out from counting those myriad ligaments.
This insectivore when we tried then to shoo,
with lightning speed it zig-zagged out of view!
So now it lurks but we can't find it anywhere
and gosh its stingers triple their size in my nightmare!
besides leaving us with a proliferation scare.!
And but timid me thanked God once again
to my great relief how thoughtful of Him indeed
to create venomous creatures that inflict stinging pain
but atleast are unable to zoom in flying at us at flying speed! .
(a flyin scorpion, centipede wud have been far more terrifyin n dangerous eh) .
At one time it was said
From Hull to Valparaiso,
Or any deep sea port
Any Mariner might know,
You could find a body who’d
Heard of the old Earl de Grey,
Many had even been there
On an onshore off duty day.
They’d talk of the girls
Offering friendship to all
And of the famous parrots
On their perches by the wall.
Fluent in their language
Freely cursing all and sundry
Regardless of their gender,
Colour creed or country.
It was rumoured they were sold
To a more refined type of place
But after a just few weeks
Were returned in disgrace.
Their partnership sadly ended
By a nervous burglar’s blade
One being killed to silence any
Statement it may have made.
The survivor then fell silent,
No more cursing one and all,
Apparently in mourning for
It’s partner's sad downfall.
So those cursing Parrots
Came to an uncertain end
But to a certain generation
They are a vivid local legend.
The Pub’s now just a memory,
The old docks long gone
The building still stands but
Times have moved steadily on.
New developments are planned
And although it’s still here
There’s quite a chance
It may soon now disappear.
But, I like to think maybe
Some far away tavern’s host
Is regaled by their tale
And they all drink a toast
To the famous cursing parrots
At the Old Earl de Grey
And more innocent days
Before time swept them away.
There’s a lot of strange things going on in our world and our governments keep many of these sinister goings on under wraps.
Quote by poet.
At the edge of our town was a heavily guarded building, and was rumoured that it was an offshoot of area 51, You could easily drive past it because it was surrounded by tall poplar trees. Old wives's tales I thought until one hot June night last year. I was driving home after visiting a friend and it had just turned midnight then my car spluttered to a halt," Damn" I said, I was out of gas, it was all I needed. I got out of the car and started walking, there was a full moon, so it was bright and it was about a half hour walk home; I heard a noise and to my right was a tall dark humanoid creature moving by the tree-line . Then above I noticed a greenish white vapour trail. I quickened my pace then heard gunfire and heard what sounded like an air raid siren, I was seized with terror and started running as fast as I could. In the distance I saw lights coming towards me. Three big army trucks passed me, heading for the building I thought, I reached town and headed for the police station to report what I'd seen. Sergeant Smith whom I knew was on duty, I started to tell him my story." Stop right there” he said, "If I log this, it won’t end well believe me”.