Long Severest Poems
Long Severest Poems. Below are the most popular long Severest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Severest poems by poem length and keyword.
I remember that day, my friend when you said: I will lead,
I left my leadership as a tree untimely leaves shed;
I was happy indeed, just like holding my father's arm,
What's more happiness than that of knowing there is no harm?
Such was my true existence, as fine a fluent folklore,
None gains it; none loses; everyone is in highest soar!
You might remember that day when you needed assistance,
And me rushing to your home as haste as an ambulance!
You sent me with tyrants, who I never knew in my life,
My friend, are you in some mythical realm of fluting fife?
When you commanded me to kick, I did not know what to do,
In severest of wars, crooked techniques, we never knew!
When you turned a battalion against me, I simply thought:
My friend is a warrior; he's learning some tricks for his art...!
Where did this high-headedness come from, I do not know, yet,
Like the beautiful stories of the fights old ever said;
Where did they start? Where did they end? All seem mysteries;
Yet, such is, today, of all great glamorous stories!
I know, like cattle, I worked plowing sowing,
Putting manure, irrigating, and caring for the plants;
As a potter molding the mud and making new,
Or as a builder raising structures brick by brick;
You are ready to harvest; as though the owner,
Unthinking what role at all you had in the labor!
I do not regret yet; I go on delightfully, rather,
Just with the sheer joy of your internal genuine pleasure;
Does the scaffolding feel pained to be redone?
Doesn’t it, rather, feel happy at the construction?
Does it not lie patiently until that day dawns,
When does it meet with the luck of being used for other plans?
The building may smile and laugh and say,
It’s on its own it stood up as a high scraper of the sky!
The crops might not remember the laborers,
Nor the pitcher might its potter, yet the truth remains…!
24 October 2021
The High Road Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
It was almost at the middle of my teen-age days,
When mind, like a horse without bridle, found rough ways;
Inner laissez-faire, like snake in dilapidated crack, set in,
Legs, the way they found, aimlessly, anywhere broke-in;
Parents and relatives resembled villains, who gave me grief,
Warnings of elders seemed shell blown into ears of deaf,
Bunking classes I went roaming with loafers just like me,
At night, to movie theaters, second-shows, I went to see;
Sessions of beer and wine too spontaneously started,
Stronger among us tried to puff marijuana, whole-hearted;
Church-going and prayers got stopped, like drying streams,
Scruples troubled the nights, filling with deadly dreams;
Peripheral flamboyancy exhibited many extravaganzas,
Life, yet, often seemed empty like vague poetic stanzas;
Youth, like that of Francis Thompson, in waywardness went-by,
Till one day, boozed heavy, like a dead I had happened to lie;
Compulsory confession and conversion was all suggested,
Inner mind (as it thought) to these idiocies, protested;
It's, then, when personal monetary bankruptcy crept,
When friends, like migratory birds, my company left;
My fiancé, finding me no more glamorous and glee,
Dared to flee, with my extremely execrable enemy;
Existence, like that of the prodigal son, fell absurd,
With severest of stress and misery; insight blurred;
Bike-accident appeared as last straw on camel's back,
Hospitalizing me all my playful activities it did hijack;
With weak limps when the brink of the grave I did reach,
Wisdom, like epiphany, new morals to me did preach;
Convictions coerced me to leave Sodom and Gomorrah,
Be inspired perpetually by the enchanting divine aura;
Repented; sins confessed; I am, then, a man reborn,
Walk upright; my fidelity on the scriptures being sworn...!
17 August 2022
The Epiphany That Changed Your Life Forever Poetry Contest
Will Voters Rule Sperm are Persons?
By Elton Camp
When a recent referendum was voted down
There came a smile after the initial frown
Another group of folks, protection needed
So to arrange for another vote they speeded
Folks down there in the Magnolia State
Have had a scientific revelation of late
What they see nobody can rightly assail
“Sperm aren’t just cells with head and tail.”
They have looked at them with a microscope
And what they saw almost made them choke
A tiny baby each little sperm does contain
And so, alive, discharged ones must remain
Birth control methods designed to kill sperm
The severest punishment by the law will earn
Condoms and contraceptive foam are crime
Their use merits the death sentence each time
Women merely provide a warm and moist place
Where early development the babies can face
So sperm should be granted the law’s protection
Kill ‘em & you will, for prosecution, face selection
At state borders checkpoints will then be erected
So that any illegal contraceptives can be detected
Big Bubbas will be keeping the sharpest eye out
For any vicious serial killers who may be about
I believe a fertilized egg to life has a right
But I am not trying to make it a public fight
When the public votes on matters like this
The need for moral decisions is easy to miss
(Note, you might enjoy googling “theory of preformation” to gain insight into the historical background of the idea that sperm are actually tiny humans. This write is SATIRE and should be read as such. Mississippi has no plans for such a vote.)
Words are vile worms
Worse than pathological germs
When I see them on blackboard
Or behold them on computer screen
They pester and prick like pointed pin
And make me scream and writhe in pain
Sending sore signals to my brain
While passing by a big hoarding in a bus
They seize and smother me like octopus
They have hideous hands and perilous paws
Which have caused mankind all its woes
They frighten me
For they emerge like cacophonous crowds
And round me like dead body shrouds
When I encounter them in a novel
Or unearth them from history with a shovel
They fill my eyes with itching and irritation
With their wanton and weird aggression
When I see them lurking like panther in death sentence of court verdict
Or see them in Astrological forecast
That darkest future predict
Or see them in Pathologist's Report telling blast cells in blood
And detecting leucocytes rising like flood
In Elisa Test declaring someone positive...
Words kill and stab and nip in bud
Merciless butchers they are!
Ignoble ripples in mud
Words everywhere words
Repulsive and ubiquitous like migratory birds
Can't we get rid of them as we do
With poultry birds infected with flu?
Can't we turn deaf mutes and talk in gestures
And in maim the drama of life rehearse?
Let's be disoriented in a spell of Amnesia
Where we forget
Who we are and all our paraphernalia
Or let's be struck with severest aphonia
So that neither sign nor sound can us harass
And we can fly calm kites of euphoria
From a lonely terrace
All for the black liquid underground
Stealing riches fact to face
An elitist group of people
an illumatti condemns a nation falsely
without just cause or evidence
to back up actions or such vile deeds
against another race
Now for me that shades the colour
Shadows of their rotting souls hidden agendas
sending the rest of the world into chaos
creating hate and sickness when poverty stikes
speaks volumes to one's heart and soul
a disgrace to modern day democracy
going backwards
Shame on your war and genocide inflicted
Pride based on space filled with filthy lies
Sending hundreds of thousands to death
deceiving people in this modern day
Hitlers with blood on their hands
Justice has not been served
as the shoe is on the wrong foot
Bogus trials executing witnesses
Aired as snuff videos
A hanging barbaric truth
for a world to see the demon at work
Soldiers torturing prisoners and Rape
The break down of law and order in peace
They who should be prosecuted
under high treason nothing less
Facing the severest penalty
of this world and it's many lands
Countless women and children
have died at your ugly hands
Pride people of this modern world
see your weakness and beast
As suffering is continuing to grow
Envy and greed drives that engine
God is not your ambassador
Peace and love is truly understanding
When the good speak ugly about the bad
In looking upon abominations carried out
Ponds paint greenish portraits in rural Indian landscape,
Docile duck rafts do dive-tricks, teasing whale-like buffaloes,
Salmon and tilapia tickle skaters and shrunk snails,
Tadpoles and fries from deadly algae and skaters escape...
Girls in petticoats and boys with no clothes, here, somersault,
Naughty ones among these push inside those don't know swimming,
Troop of youth, like villains, enter and exhibit pole-vault,
Women, like trained washers, busy themselves in cloth-washing...
Java plum trees, posing around willows, like green phantoms,
Shadow around, frightening the passersby, late evening,
Mangroves plowing the water make noises like ghost-groaning,
Bullfrogs to their mates seem sending love-memorandums...
Sun rays penetrating the dense leaves-embroidered branches,
Crack tracks of golden routes, as though connecting to sky-skirts,
Reflects, toward moon, like images on mirrors with clown-shirts,
Summon dark angels of dusk, to play about the ranches...
Do not get dried up amid severest of droughts, dear pond,
Or get swollen up, destructing lives, puffed up by the rains;
May lives in you and around, your healing touch ever gain,
And heaven and earth enjoy your perennial love bond...
19 December 2021
A STRAND (1044) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
The mat outside my door says folks are welcome.
How many months will pass before that’s true?
Though some who make predictions have great knowledge,
they've nothing concrete to support their view.
This epidemic spreading through the nations
has changed our lives. Each day seems more surreal,
but my small inconveniences are minor
compared to heartbreak many millions feel.
I ache for those whose loved ones have been taken
by this pandemic and those gravely ill,
the ones who risk their lives each day for others,
and those who lost their jobs and can’t pay bills.
I feel for working parents and the children
who never failed a class until this year,
those used to being taught inside a classroom,
now home, on I-pads, due to wide-spread fear.
I praise those who give time, supplies, and money
to those in need. Such times bring out the best
in many. Volunteers prove pure compassion
brings joy and peace in life’s severest tests.
*UPDATE: Our parking-lot stay-in-vehicle services occurred a few
months back. We're back inside, but some haven't attended since March.
Date: April 4, 2020
Contest Title: Quarantine Poems placed 1st
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
December 11, 2020
entered in Nina Parmenter's It Feels Surreal Contest
Future's Promise Of Hope Stirs In Us All
Within epic sea of man's greatest quest,
amidst usual pains laid on each head-
Cometh dark trials of the severest test,
deep mourning crying for love ones now dead.
Future's promise of hope stirs in us all
with stronger courage to race in life's train.
Precious, sweetest memories we recall,
brilliantly stored within each clever brain.
Should we obey an eternal request
heed its solemn and very wise advice.
Trusting truth that good is always the best,
holding faith in our God will then suffice.
What of gravest doubts at the journey's end?
Pains of deceased family or best friend?
Robert J. Lindley, 1-31-2016
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 100
Note: Sonnet writing is my new therapy .
As I find it occupies my mind, brings joy and may even serve to help others! At least, thats my wish..
This one addresses doubts even in the midst of an acknowledged strong faith...
In this write, I challenged myself to write this hitting my "perfect 100 words" per sonnet goal.
Succeeded in my first draft.
Written: May 15, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
**********************
I’m neither harmonious nor a hidden hymn
Who said I'm wedded to whimsy, lilac looks?
to all those who gifted me
countless worries through the years.
Simply silhouettes in my rear—view mirror.
I sail past rhyming reefs,
of my quest faintly reflecting
Why should I let them define me anymore?
I make mistakes; so what?
my heart is full of love and ambrosian words—
it shines with rhapsody.
my hands can heal amidst the severest pain.
my mind envision cures
for sparkling vanilla—algae tears.
Tidal teals whisper tales that truly transform.
Despite doubts in glittering, grape-colored gales,
I'll face them as the north star kisses the sea.
I will rise and face them head on,
while history hisses at my heels.
I'll sustain my anxieties for what they are — illusions
with a clairvoyant cape and rivulets unraveled
what matters is now
what matters is my striving
what matters is the rise
toward rebellious rainbows
and what I require,
as a necklace of seashells
worn and stained with sepia
Should National Security be compromised from emails of privacy?
I say to you, NO it should not, but you can blame that darn Hillary!
Quid-pro-quo Clinton Foundation during ten years of Secretary of State,
spreading lies and deceit, so much controversy did she create.
Failing to protect Americans about the nature of the Benghazi attack,
corruption to the severest degree, so much dignity she does lack.
How about the “Uranium One Deal” with the Russians overseas?
Intimidating women to stay quiet while her husband spreads disease.
She has a “dead pool list” with strange disappearances and suicides,
and then when confronted she runs like a spoiled baby and hides.
Seriously? Murdering babies at seven months in the womb?
Little do we hear about the people she has sent to a tomb!
No there’s nothing on earth that could make me earn her respect-
but after all, look who she’s married to…what more could I expect?
A Realistic Hillary Clinton Poem (it is NOT positive) Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Michael Wegman
April 7, 2019
*Awesome idea for a contest, just sayin'. Hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it*