Long Screening Poems

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


Dying Innocence

A young crow carries them-
selves meticulously, screening 
their surroundings. Too wary 
to engage with others, but 
always so observant. 

A golden jewel shines in a
parking lot corner. Tempting 
the young crow’s eyes. Their 
bill clutches on, fragile by
nature, it breaks. 

Glass shards pierces their 
tongue, blood cascades on-
to the concrete as the jewel
dismantles. Remnants of a
once pretty rock remain. 

Lackluster caws transcends to
inconspicuous woes through
menacing thunder circulating 
the floaters, ignoring their 
cries.

Drizzles of rain deafening 
continuous yelp, a dash of
salt soaking their insides,  
their shadow scatters
far away.


Priceless Prospective Professionals of Tomorrow

periodontal disease the bane
of *****Sapiens, 
   and many a canine species 
   such as Great Dane

or an alien pet smart tumblr trying to feign
bing the best faux pas footed friend 
   to kind hearted primates of man kind, 
   which latter perhaps an aristocratic 
   Anglo Saxon overlord 
   generously re pay hay'n

his/her diligent indentured serfs, 
   and more importantly air
unlimited pro bono dental care
at Ivy League storied University of Pennsylvania 

   School of Dentistry 
   which demonstrably crafts aspiring 
   reputable Dentists, 
   many anon dis track did Engineer
or among other additional 
   competitive uber pursuits 

   nonetheless, said accredited blessed charges 
   per this institution of higher learnin' 
   paying back every single buck
renown for plethora of duck
quacking supremely smart graduated students 
   drooling to bark out 

   bone a fide intelligence fluct
chew waiting genius stratosphere
   comprising grueling vetting process
   scoring acceptance,
 
   a combination menu demanding 
   eminent genetic luck 
incorporating top notch 
   flying colors and pluck 

   initial pre admission screening interview 
   (from prospective students 
   leaving a positive first impression stuck 
   thru rigorous quizzing presentation paces),
 
   which gauntlet on par with Olympic ardor  
   assiduously, modestly, 
   swimmingly convincing board 
   with collective listening ear
  
   comprising decision makers, judging fair
   how fated genetic sprig wrought 
   (from imponderable hereditary blend his/her 
   that above average intelligent head gear

to be applied at afore
   mentioned die hard lessons here
trials and tribulations didst ap pear
at timely juncture at me then young life

ILL INTENT EVENT

Deep into the dark, amid the shadows, dwells the blackest spark
Or no, wait, it'sa nightmare convening, and the park is screaming
Or perchance a ghoulish gathering, killing and preening
Bad dream screening, cloaked and masked with disbelieving
The curtains been pulled, the marriage annulled
Death and dulled, the demons are doin' well
All things considered, sanctimonious, and sick, this is all just swell

The fog flourishes while evil rings the graveyard's bell
This is certainly a show, don't tell
Sinister, cozy, and cold, the decadence and debauchery unfolds
Just as the days of centuries old played out
Victorian Gothic, historical, and classic, with all the Vamps sportin' a blood locket
The delicious allure of death dazzles
Causing desolation and loneliness to frazzle
A puzzle of phantoms, vast and not random
An Andy Warhol fandom, all the Nevermores gettin' their corpse on Forevermore
Outstanding

So what does one make of this funeral with a cake, dead roses
And the realization that love is fake
A ghostly compendium of dubious give and take, live the death
Enjoy the Devils Breath by the lake
Fascinate over the forsaken, disturb the unwaken
Go ahead, have a slice of liver or belly bacon
Here, it's yours for the takin'
Mayhem is a'makin', and this can very well be that Heinous exotic Hellish vacation
The one  Lucifer is always hailing or abating
Which reminds me of that abysmal sensation that follows him around
And why is he here? He belongs downtown - underground.....
Form: Rhyme

The Poet.

The poet in me’s private and reserved for here and now
To express myself in normal life, I never quite knew how

The words I write are heartfelt and can cut straight to the bone
I write of thoughts and feelings that only I can own.

If ideas of that I dream could not find life in rhyme
The person that I could have been would just be lost in time

A life that’s kept on record in thinly picture painting meaning
All my raw emotions spilling out, with very little screening 

I share my life with readers that will never truly know me
With words that open up a side, that real life will not see.

Is the poet that lives in others the same that lives in me?
Does he hide your true persona, leaving you anonymously free?

The poet in me’s cunning; some words not always true.
But what you see is all you get. The rest left up to you.
Form: Verse

Beep

Gone digital
begun/beginning
Networking with me-self
Can't find a full-stop
to stop

What yer looking at fish-face???
Yer know
since yesterday
I can't find me thumbs
falling feet first
in-ter sub-monkey skills
I need more,
more white widgets
and black toggles-
got the wobbles, a bit keyed-up

Mind knitting its own computer
flashes of clever clogs,
clumps of soft-drive
in me ear-holes
got no cookies cooking
just a blinking memory
Dot-dash-board doodling,
screening plasma for bugs
and sneezy-bits.
Me lights are ticking
think I'm thinking

Blimey, will you look at that!
I got a virtual nose to pick
feeling sick of it
even though
me lid is plastic

Beep...


Premium Member The Long Wait

I wait for my love
Looking at the building for the tenth time 
She sighs, then snicker to herself
In expectation of the million surprises  
life and her love 
Would swing then spring 
As she awaits her love
Humming for our love
I vision a million places
As l viewed the passing faces
Fixated only on my love
I faxed my care and kisses 
Prayed on my hands and knees 
Passionate for your return 
I ache with pain
I sob and strain 
Stretching and scanning 
For your promised return 
With every tickling seconds
Pacing into minutes
Pounding into hours
I begin to rave 
As l began a hate
Of every thought of loosing you
My world is chilly 
my words becomes still                            
I rage then wave 
To the moving world 
Screening the movie
My world has become 
As l await my love
With his promised return 
   
     Dedicated to Khashoggi fiancee 2018
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Watch List

Why are you watching me? Why am I on your list,
classified as an enemy combatant or potential terrorist?
Why are you watching me? Please tell me why I'm on that list.
Is it because I always challenge you? Is it because I always resist?
Why are you watching me? Why am I on the government watch list?
If I am doing anything at all criminal, then place me under arrest.
Why do you always detain me at the airport until my flight leaves?
Why do you always pull me out of line for additional screenings?
Which by the way, is publicly very humiliating.
Why are you watching me? I assure you I am no threat.
I don't reach anyone at all. I'm just a lone wolf activist,
who one day found himself in a war against the IRS,
because of that agency's criminal practice, tactics and injustice.
Why are you watching me? Please give it a rest,
but you never will, will you?  
You will for the rest of my life cause me distress.
I've made my Guantánamo Bay bed,
now I have to lay in it I guess.

*

Check your flight boarding pass, if it displays anywhere an SSSS,
Congratulations, 
you are on the government watch list, 
along with over 1 million natural born americans of the good old U S.

*

SSSS
Secondary Security Screening Suspect
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Popcorn

I inhale 
watching a movie trailer on Youtube; 
I can smell it, feel the salt on my lips;
So many memories laced in the taste; 

In the air 
mixed with the script of Hollywood, 
Buttery smooth you’re reeled in; 
Frame by frame, you just devour it;

Each moment 
hours of magic that sizzle off the oil; 
The noise of the  machine crackling 
the scent wafting, enticing an entire building;  

Waiting in line 
screening prints til’ all hours of the night; 
Cleaning, counting, even robbed at gunpoint;
Unleashing more than a scent as it pops
filling me with flashbacks;

Rolling through the screenplay
So many memories laced in the taste; 
I can smell it, feel the salt on my lips;
Popcorn.

Premium Member Life's Rules

Life looks at us with its hard gaze
Screening our essence with a sneer
Wanting to see us
Fall to our knees and cry out to it
To stop punishing us the way it does,
Whether by inflicting upon us emotional pain
Or by depriving us of that which our body needs,
Or even by taking from us,
Those whom we love the most!

But what life really wants to see blooming in us
Is merely the acceptance of its supremacy over us
Yes, life, at its base, wants us to understand
That in its temporary realm
We are to be happy and detached from its joys
And its thorns, well aware that we shall
Be there upon its soils for a while only!

Carrying this mindset as our crowns,
Wearing it as our most prized jewel,
We shall then remain forever, as children,
Playing in evergreen fields
And having no care whatsoever
For that which we keep biting our nails for,
When nothing about life shall ever be ours to tame!

If You Really Cared

If you really cared— You would view humans as humans rather than disposable numbers to be tracked and replaced.

If you really cared, there wouldn't be tent cities growing like weeds in the shadows of skyscrapers that scrape heaven, while billionaires play astronaut in the name of "innovation".

If you really cared, mothers wouldn't have to choose between insulin and rent, between feeding their babies or keeping the lights on, rationing life itself like it's a luxury item, a premium subscription to breathing.

You write "liberty and justice for all" on every courthouse, but some "ALL’S" cost more than others, don't they? Some “ALL’S come with a credit check, a background screening, a ZIP code prerequisite.

If you really cared— the prison wouldn't be more packed than the classroom, the graveyards wouldn't be younger than the history books, and we wouldn't know the names of Black men and women only after hashtags turn them into tombstones.

You say you're the land of the free, but freedom's got a price tag, and it's in a currency most of us can't afford.

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