Long Shape up Poems
Long Shape up Poems. Below are the most popular long Shape up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shape up poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh, fear! The sinister finger of a tornado!
Twisting, spinning, spiraling in turbulent
toroidal twirls of angry winds and high
pressures, few forces - natural or nay -
are as destructive or as frightening or
as beautiful! Yes, I am myself afraid
of those weaving beasts of spinning
horror, for there are few things as
certain to bring unavoidable death
and destruction, but I have also
always been drawn so to their
violent beauty and power, and
their affect on atmosphere and
light. There is little anyone can
do to avoid their wrath if they
find you, and that assured ill
anger of nature is why they
are so reviled ... buildings,
cars, animals, trees, bits,
pieces, farms, insects,
trucks, people, pets,
houses, things that
grow, move, stand
still, fixed, loose,
secured - there
is hardly any-
thing that is
outside the
mix of the
horror, but
if you are
a broad,
strong,
long,
flat,
....,,,,~>>~,,,,....
- Smooth, deep, thick, hard, layer of the finest concrete, then you are SOLID! -
Submitted on November 22, 2020
To the "SHAPE UP" Poetry Contest
Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor
~ 1st Place ~ in the "The Shape Of My Art" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.
When I was young, about four or five,
I decided to jump off the real high dive.
My mom said I’d get hurt, she tried to say no,
of course I took the plunge, and my face took the blow.
Blood ran from my face as she called out my name.
I told her it hurt, but I had no one else to blame.
When I was a little older, about seven or eight,
I was at the dinner table refusing to clear my plate.
My mom said to eat my food, I just pushed my plate away.
She told me to go to my room, that is where I had to stay.
I got mad and threw a fit, she wasn’t up for my games.
When I got grounded, I had no one else to blame.
Add on a few more years, I just turned sixteen.
I thought the world was mine. I acted like a queen.
My mom told me to shape up. I didn’t listen of course.
She told me don’t test her, if I didn’t want her rules enforced.
I laughed it off, figuring it was false claims,
But when I didn’t get a car, I had no one else to blame.
When I got to college, I was newly eighteen.
It was a whole new world, so many things to do and be seen.
My mom told me to be safe, reminded me to make good decisions.
I soon got in too deep. College wasn’t what I envisioned.
She told me to stay focused I told her to stop being lame.
When I failed my first class, I had no one else to blame.
Senior year was almost over and I was finally twenty-one.
Something was telling me the fun had only begun.
My mom told me to think, so I dabbled in drugs.
My only concern became how many beers I could chug.
She said she was concerned, that I wasn’t the same.
When I lost my way, I had no one else to blame.
At twenty two, I fell in with the wrong crowd.
We did what we wanted, we were obnoxious and loud.
My mom said she loved me. I just pushed her away.
She fought hard to reach out, I fought harder to stray.
One night something happened. I was overcome with shame.
He forced himself in me, but I had no one else to blame.
Looking back on my life, on all the choices I had made,
as his assault continued, my poor choices replayed.
The words my mom had said were ringing in my ears.
I closed my eyes tight and fought back the tears.
When it was all over, responsibility I had to claim.
After everything I had done, who else could I blame?
I awkwardly, ineptly, and submissively fumbled thru life...,
whereat purposefulness rarely gained traction
Fatherhood (half my life time ago)
bolstered reasonable rhyme
manifesting itself before
these myopic bespectacled eyes.
Infancy, babyhood, and Childhood
evidenced, noticed, and witnessed
adequate basic provisions,
and no shortage of food
engendered dynamic cohesion
allowed, enabled, and provided
"mama's boy" imbued,
and attempted to compensate
being socially withdrawn
posting and answering
personal classified advertisements,
(while marital vows
long since pledged),
now in hindsight such risqué
communiqués juvenile and lewd
sense and sensibility
of healthy emotional, mental
and physical natural maturation
social withdrawal did occlude
invariably classmates found
lack of responsiveness rude.
Additionally, yours truly
never field tested
self reliance skill sets,
but rather overstayed his welcome
livingsocial with parents
at 324 Level Road,
whose patience he sorely tested
ofttimes giving rise
since hashtagged as
dad's infamous midnight lectures
heavily referencing expletives
which vituperative ultimatums
extemporaneously delivered courtesy
paternal linkedin progenitor of mine
when the doomsday clock struck twelve
allowing, enabling, providing
standing room only
promising colorful denunciatory epithets
assaulting, cannonading, firing...
exploding character assassination
verbal thermonuclear bombs squarely
lobbed at unemployed sole son,
his/him offspring afflicted then (three
plus decades ago and now)
with debilitating anxiety/
social panic, palmar hyperhidrosis,
body dysmorphia, and
irritable bowel for starters.
I (a rather meek individual)
stood still as a statue
silently weathering such
blistering, calumniating, excoriating,
fulminating, haranguing brickbats
upon a rather docile doodler with words,
who essentially internalized
torturous barrage vacuous warnings
to shape up or ship out,
which mother and father dearest
doled out their version
of abusive traumatic boot camp
survival mode qualified
as invisible contusions, fractures,
infarctions, lesions, obstructions
and ruinations upon psyche.
I remember the man.
He is the best friend that one could ever have,
he truly knows me like the palms of his hands;
through thick and thin he is always there for me -
I remember the man.
When I come up with lines that perfectly rhyme
he says “Gee, you are the greatest poet alive!”;
when I mess up ‘It’s good for the competition’ -
the man is my biggest fan.
He is my toughest critic and taskmaster,
not content to see me rest on my laurels,
but he does it with love shining on his face -
how I love the man.
After each fall he is there to pick me up,
when I’m up he pushes me even higher;
to him there is nothing that I could not do -
I appreciate the man.
To him this fool could not make any mistake
yet when I’m down he rushes to lend a hand,
forcing me to rise up and fight like a man -
I remember the man.
When I sin he says “It’s alright, just move on
but make a pledge to do good next time, son,
shape up, you can be a much better person” -
that man, he understands.
At times when I’m too drunk he sobers me up,
when I forget to zip up, he rushes to zip me up,
when I stink he drags me to the nearest shower -
he cares for me, that man.
Through every heartache he is there to listen,
through each pain he is the first one to worry,
in my triumphs he advertises my every glory -
how can I thank the man?
When I was younger, brash and impulsive,
he would whisper “Slow down a bit, kiddo”
but now that I’m older he says to work faster -
I can’t understand the man.
In my youth 'You’ll make Cary Grant insecure'
now that I’m old 'You look better than Redford!'
His belief in me is something I’ve never seen -
God, how I love the man.
As I face a new day I pause to give praise
to the most devoted friend that I ever had;
thank you, buddy, for being there for me -
you're a beautiful man.
I remember me.
3/20/22
Going at an alarming speed
Taxes and parking fees
Across uncharted seas
I'm in the presence of sharks and trees
Keeping any B.S. far from me
Among constant conflict and chaos, I've only partially
Found harmony
It all use to dishearten me
Experienced much first hand rather harshly
Around me was constant paraphernalia like a pharmacy
In years past, I partook in some carpentry
Sometimes I make chimichurri with ingredients like parsley
Remarkably
What I do will not matter or it shall far exceed
All expectations, meanwhile most continue harming each
It's typical no longer startling
People charm and tease
Cause harm and cheat
A lot of them are a creep
Mama told me, boy get your s*** straight
Otherwise you're ending up in fifth place
Won't exceed if your content with that and think it's great
Someday I'mma drop a mixtape
On B.S. they often fixate
Far too many commit hate
Worldwide instead of just across this state
I'm not jaded
Even though I constantly got cross faded
Often living in space
For a long time I was a bit late
So the ship sank
But after a quick break
It all became innate
Still they treat others worse than inmates
People far too often piss-take
And they love to dictate
At this rate
That'll be their last mistake
Because it all gives shape
To being dim and fake
Leading toward a grim fate
Damn girl you got a thick waist
If I don't shape up, I could end up being fish bait
Can't get by with a higher loss than win rate
Specific crowds targeted
Harmful products continually marketed
Won't catch me in a cardigan
I finished it and now I've started it
Got back to drinking hard again
Risking an arm and leg
In daylight I'm charging in
Or in the dark I hid
Hmm girl, you're so very far from a gem
Often broke the hearts of men
For a long time of love they were hunger-starven
Got to keep a smart head
And a firearm instead
Of just a blade with a sharp edge
Concern for human life is often disregarded
Doesn't matter what you do, like if you bartend
Or became a jarhead
Can't do anything if you are dead
Welcome to my barber shop,
Owned by the late Puddin' Pop.
That's my dad's picture in the frame:
Let me tell you how he earned his nickname.
Back in the summer of 1984,
My mom bought my sister and me to the store.
There was a barber shop next door,
And here's my pop. His name was William Moore.
I'm Calvin, his son; Anne is his wife;
Penny is my sister who loves Barney Fife.
"Hey, everyone," my dad said with a smile.
"I haven't seen you guys in a long while.
I just opened up my shop today:
What would you like? Let's get started right away."
My mom said, "You see this full head of hair?
Calvin looks like an afro grizzly bear.
He only needs a shape up and a little off the top."
But I was a little nervous and yelled, "No! STOP!
I don't look like no grizzly bear,
And there's no way you're getting me in that chair!"
So Mom and Dad thought of a scheme
To convince me to look fresh and clean.
Mom reached in the bag that was brought from the store.
What did she take out? I had to explore.
It was chocolate and vanilla pudding pops from Jell-O!
My sister and I were like, "HELLO!"
"Now son," said dad, "you don't need to fear.
Your mom, sister, and I are right here.
But if you want this frozen treat,
Stop your bawling and get your booty in that seat!"
My hair had to go. I didn't have a choice,
But to obey my father's strong baritone voice.
After 15 minutes, it wasn't so bad:
I received my first haircut from my dear old dad.
My mom paid $10 and gave me my dessert;
I was so happy, even with the stains on my shirt.
For almost 15 years, we've been going over there
To get rid of my so-called "afro grizzly bear hair".
Sadly, my Puddin' Pop passed away.
But his barber shop is still standing today.
There's been a minor change since he passed on:
Now it's a barber shop and a beauty salon.
My sister and I own both of these places
And loves the smiles on our customers' faces.
Every time we open our shops for the crowd,
I know in my heart that we've done our dad proud.
That's the story of this awesome barber shop.
Thanks for everything, Puddin' Pop.
STAR
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(I)
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hope // light
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silence // longing
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challenges//expectations
love
faith
grace
prayer
Christ
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E d O tO s o
a a i AN p t U F
C Y s p r r a
h o e I
t n t
u G H
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i h
t e
y n
23.11.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
SHAPE UP Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
1st place in the contest
There's cut all over her arms and thighs
With razor as a tool, she conducted a crime
An intentional kill of a self incapable
A suspect and a victim of a crime that made possible
'twas a clear picture before my eyes
Make myself believed; maybe a humorous display
As I browsed all her feedback; inferred other statements
Picture's authentic; I am not imagining
First time it happened on my Facebook history
Mind and heart collided on an image so shaky
A friend so dear to me and treated me,"Brother"
Have lost all her senses, for a love that started to hate her
I acted rapidly and sent her a message
While tears wrapping on my face
She told me of a love that's broken
Will end-up a life if He's not beside Her
Things didn't work out
Promises didn't shape-up
Two-hearts fractured as complications rise
The one's still hoping while the other's ready
Is this a mere option of not meeting a desire
Of depression and imbalance of emotion that's inside?
Anna! Anna!
What have you done?
I praise God for His presence
He saved you from the fire
If love is pure and just
You have a peaceful mind
And you will love yourself
As you love him the best
If love is a lie
No one can deny
It will always manifest by taking things for granted
Like what you've done; imprisoned by deception
Dark clouds have covered you with fear and wrong decision
Please Anna, promise me now!
No more blades around!
You're impulsive so please turn around
Say some prayers and ask God's favor
Good thing you're a "Suicide Survivor".
# Based on a true story
Last night, I was really shocked seeing the picture of Anna(on Facebook) with bruises all over.
Thought it was a joke but I'm saddened finding out that its real. Its her!
She's a friend so close in my heart since school days.
She attempted to end her life last night just because of a broken relationship!
This is really not the end of the world!
She's okay now! God is good!
I paid a million dollars for entrance into this amusement park and I thought “hey
this better be worth it”.
A million kisses
A million hugs
A million intense conversations about life and love
The first rides were amazing…I had gotten my money’s worth.
I never wanted to leave
I was trapped and it felt good
Happy
Thrilled
Just like I thought I would.
Other amusement parks seemed to be non existent
The more I rode the rides in the one that made me feel
Free.
Only after the first couples of rides
I just knew that this was the one for me
And no one could ever change my mind.
I paid a million dollars for entrance into this amusement park and I thought “hey
what was I thinking”.
A million arguments
A million lies
A million times you said goodbye
For some reason the rides were’t so fun anymore…. In fact they had gotten a bit
scary.
Most times I felt like leaving
I was trapped and I could’t find a way out
The fulfillment that the first few rides had brought me
Were still somehow keeping me there
I tried some of the other amusement parks but,
None could make me as happy as the one I loved so much
In the beginning.
So I tried to have a little faith
A little hope somewhere in my heart
A little courage to accept the fact that this park was not perfect
Thinking that one of these rides, just one….would somehow re light that spark
I paid a million dollars for entrance into this amusement park and I thought “hey
this is not for me”.
A million apologizes
A million make up and break ups
A million moments spent thinking to my self
“Girl you better shape up…
Love isn’t expecting you to fight for it, it wants to fight for you.
There will be no confusion when it comes your way.
You’ll know when it’s true”.
Damn I thought I was on to something!
But, I guess that’s the name of the game.
And, the way I look at amusement parks
Will never be the same.
I can tell you that life consists of rush and wait.
That’s all there is to it, nothing profound, don’t look for meaning.
Our parents wait wait wait for us to be born.
Then it’s rush rush rush to keep up with the other kiddies.
We wait wait wait and rush rush rush all our lives, alone and with others.
We wait wait wait to be enrolled in school.
We rush rush rush through grade after grade,
And going to the bathroom, to the movies, on trips,
And I could write a book on going to hospitals and doctors!
We wait wait wait to get a date.
We rush rush rush to fall in and out of love.
We rush rush rush rush rush to turn into grownups!
We wait wait wait to have a vacation and fun
Only to rush rush rush so we can prepare for the next school term.
When we grow up, the wait wait wait continues.
We wait wait wait to find out how we did on that tricky job interview.
If we get hired, we wait wait wait to be approved by our supervisor.
If we don’t get hired, we wait wait wait in long employment lines.
If we’re good at our jobs, we rush rush rush to get promotions.
If we’re mediocre on our jobs, we rush rush rush to shape up.
The more successful we are, the more we rush rush rush and wait wait wait,
Attending seminars, catching planes, trying to meet deadlines.
The less successful we are, the more we rush rush rush and wait wait wait,
Applying for more loans we can’t pay off, tackling more jobs we can’t handle.
Sometimes it’s rush rush rush to marry, wait wait wait to be divorced.
Everyone knows traffic and phones are totally wait wait wait and rush rush rush.
In having our children, depending on circumstances,
We either rush rush rush or wait wait wait.
Then we go through the same routine with them that our parents did with us:
Wait and rush, rush and wait -- that’s what life is all about, believe me.
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