Long Shelve Poems

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


Premium Member BALLAD OF SID STAPLER

O Sid, thou effervescent thunder-walrus of the office realm,  
your jaws snap shut like a collapsing star  
trying to remember its dentist appointment.  

You sit upon my desk  
with the gravitas of a melancholy refrigerator,  
humming like an effulgent stapler-ghost 
searching for meaning in the break-room microwave.  

Your staples~  
those tiny metallic boomerangs of despair~  
glint with the sylvan wisdom 
of a forest that has never once seen a tree.  

When you jam,  
the universe tilts sideways,  
and time itself sighs  
like a tired librarian  
watching someone shelve books by color.  

O Sid,   
your hinge creaks  
with the sorrow of a retired accordion  
remembering its polka years,  
while your sonnet-shaped clicking  
violates both poetry and physics.  

You bind my documents  
with the enthusiasm of a sleep-deprived octopus  
attempting macramé,  
each crooked staple  
a reminder that order  
is a myth invented by filing cabinets.  

And still I lift you,  
brave and trembling,  
knowing that one day  
you will rise from your plastic throne,  
staple the moon to the horizon,  
and declare the dawn  
UNAUTHORIZED.
Form: Ballad


Premium Member Mi Vida Loca

I wake up swinging, fists in the air,  
Wrestling my dreams like they just don’t care.  
Life’s a rodeo, I hold on tight,  
Riding chaos like a bull in flight.  

---

The ghetto’s my kingdom, the concrete's my throne,  
Dodging pigeons like they're throwing stones.  
Sirens sing me lullabies at night,  
But I dance with the madness—it feels just right.  

---

Pitbull soul in a world off-leash,  
Hustling hard for that gravy feast.  
Nine lives? Ha! I spent twelve,  
Still standing strong, straight outta shelve.  

---

Traffic jams, grocery fights,  
Dodging drama like meteorites.  
I laugh so loud, the moon complains,  
The universe knows—I don't do reins.  

---

Bills and thrills, breakneck speed,  
I juggle dreams like circus deeds.  
My car’s got issues, my phone does too,  
But I roll with it—fixing is for the new.  

---

Salsa steps on shifting ground,  
Spin through madness, never downed.  
Reality blinks, but I don’t flinch,  
Dodging doom like a slapstick clinch.  

---

So cheers to chaos, my loco delight,  
I ride the whirlwind—no seatbelt in sight.  
Life’s a sitcom, just press “repeat,”  
And I’m the star of my own heartbeat.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Bizarre

 
Freakish weird construction,
how about one that wears its true purpose outside ?
Walls function,

like books on shelve,
each book is tall and six feet wide.
Bookshelf !

So odd,
built with great pride.
Awed !

Freakish weird construction,
each book is tall and six feet wide.
Awed !

_________________________
September 19, 2020


Poetry/Rhyme/Bizarre
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1288-002-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France

Inspiration-  The Kansas City Public Library, 
the outside walls  are made to appear like books on shelf

Written for the contest, Let's Minichu on Bizarre 
sponsor, Mohan Chutani

Third Place
Form: Rhyme

Florida's Fig Leaves

A principal had to resign
For an art teacher chose to assign
What a parent called ****
And she needed to warn
Those in charge it was way out of line.

Thought the students, eleven and twelve,
Into classical works were to delve,
Michelangelo’s art
Showed a male body part
That the protester wanted to shelve.

Now the David is known far and wide
And most viewers can take it in stride,
But in Florida’s schools
They play by different rules
So some crazy taboos are applied.

To that mother who thinks she protects
Her near-teen, maybe what she expects
Is that viewing a nude
Will make someone unglued,
Certain books having likewise effects.
art
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Musing At the Library

MUSING AT THE LIBRARY

Curmudgeon staring me down, what do you think betwixt those eyes? I dare to stare back this time. “Are you having a good day, sir.” “No!” he says back just as fast. But perhaps I laugh with a mischievous twinkle in my eye, perhaps sir, just a scintilla bit better.

She stares at me unknowingly cutting in line, ready to speak, then doubles back for someone was before her. She shuffles to the next counter with her stack and opens her jaw, “Are youuu Jewish? Because you look Jewish…” and I just stare back at this odd woman, rude woman, what is she jabbering about. I’m befuddled.

Supergeek, and I say this lovingly, gives me the lowdown on everything humanly possible about the comic book world. Even the color coding of heroes and villains. 

“Oh, I’ve got something special for you to do,” she rubs her hands together before I can rub the sand out of my eyes. Oh, boy!

And there’s the “Do you remember me?” and just like a book with outline, the colors come back to me. I erase the red hair and make it gray and I wrinkle up the paper. Oh yes, I remember you!

In the sorting room, I put my feelings on the conveyor belt. They fall into a variety of bins...adult, child, ones I leave behind, those headed outside and those to shelve. 

10/12/2018
Form: Prose


Premium Member THE LADDER OF IMAGINATION

People love the rolling ladder in our store.
We use it to shelve some of our rarer sets of books.
Many people who enter tell us how great that ladder looks.

But to me that ladder is much more than a 10,000 year old innovation.
It is a symbol…a gesture…a stairway to ones imagination.

Our store is filled with people who climbed the ladder of their imagination
and when they stopped to take a look…
Wrote down or drew everything they saw 
and shared with us their book.

And we get to go along with them as they climb that ladder 
all the way up to the moon…
As they ride whales, befriend dragons, or ride in a big balloon.

As they talk to animals, storm castles, feast with queens and kings…
or from the comfort of their bedroom visit the land of wild things.

Yes, the bookstore is filled with stories other people wrote
as they climbed the ladder of their imagination…
and we love to read their words and visit the lands of their creation.

But the ladder in our bookstore stands as a reminder…
that our own ladder of imagination is with us all the time…
standing proud and tall and ready…
for us to begin the climb…
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Why I Walked Away

Another shovel load of sin
Towards my lifes end tossed away 
I’m covered in the lust
Of the winds of want each and every day

This hole within my soul
Is void of but one truth
You walk with God while all my thoughts 
Are drown in the devils proof

I’ll always love you
And I will until I’m buried in my grave
Sometimes the hard truth
Is better seen than hearing it said
I sold my soul
At the crossroads while you found your way
I’m not sure what to say…..
I love you
That’s why I walked away

This hell isn’t easy 
I’m living out each day in my mind
I can’t shelve these feelings
And I’m guessing neither will time

I’m confessing and professing
You’re one of life’s greatest blessings 
And I know you’ll never be mine
So I guess it’s time….

I’ll always love you
And I will until I’m buried in my grave
Sometimes the hard truth
Is better seen than hearing it said
I sold my soul
At the crossroads while you found your way
And I’m not sure what to say…..
But I love you
That’s why I walked away

I’ll always love you
And I’m not sure what to say 
That’s why I walked away
Form: Lyric

Premium Member December Cheer

December comes with end-of-year goodbyes.
Full winter soon will bloom as days proceed
with snow-filled days, a time that soon implies,
we turn our minds to holidays, full speed

when everyone is filled with Christmas joy,
and shopping days for loved ones fill each day.
Dear families and friends, meet to enjoy
this happy time, our end-of-year bouquet. 

December is the last month of the twelve
that make up one year's measured time we spend;
a final year to finish and soon shelve
when midnight brings December to its end.

A brand new year of twelve will then appear;
when once again, we'll share December cheer.
Form: Sonnet

Deliver Your Dreams

Delve into the mindset of a blank page 
and you will find your imgination 
Shelve all your realities and uncage,  
you will arrive at your destination ...

Dispense your words and open the gate  
let your mirages guide you through 
Immense are the stories that can't wait 
when you dip your nib into ink of blue 

Deliver your dreams onto the reader 
they await your daydreams too 
Surrender your heart and consider 
sharing it all, with the few...

Delve into the chalky milky vastness 
and harness your creative juice   
Shelve  all your worries, for its a bless  
to be able to create like a muse .
Form: Rhyme

This Is My Therapy Dead Friendship 10 of 11

Some go to a shrink or psychiatrist and jabber, 
I do this anywhere anytime,
I express, pen press and feel bliss for free,
open cus opinions mean nothing to me,
I guess people don't matter cus people flatten they don't flatter
when I was in the gutter 
with gut dread rather 
than believe and help relieve pain 
they brand lies in my name 
then complain everyone complains of false troubles the same, 
so dismissive so disrespectful actually self centred and selfish 
as two minutes later they feel 
the need to talk of their exes exit months ago 
you've already tried to help them through still here they go
though it's too much effort to listen to you, 
they are like all eyes on me and nothing to give 
so you refuse to talk as they did 
and they get upset, can't believe it, 
so you explain why would I talk about you 
after you told me my problem's not true.
 
All this is a sideshow to my real problems 
so I let it go and leave it, forgotten, 
but they're aggrieved, think I'm unkind
and start telling everyone I lie 
make up stories and this spreads like wildfire 
from deadhead to deadhead 
now I'm seen as a blagger 
that will sit and blabber 
and rather than decide in their own heads 
for themselves they side like a shelve 
while my situation is killing me inside 
but if it's spoke of it's pre-believed as a lie 
though they've no clue, losing my mind,
enjoying the bonding as a group ignorant to truth
what a hoof to the tooth, so I'm aloof
while they get used to this, 
I'm unaware cus I've got a real fight with strife 
that requires a focused mind and this is my downtime,
get stoned blank mind.

Real problems distract and impact me, 
who can I turn too with no one true,
slowly I leave my friends life,
I go free
and after their laughter there's realisation
they can't figure out why, I'm just a changed one, 
while I've so much on my mind 
I forget the reason, 
I forget their treason, 
still my subconscious propelled me away 
and only when my mind unravels years later 
I realise why I didn't stay. 

A lifetime of friendship was instantly corrupt, 
rather than help me you said I make stuff up!!!
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.

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