Long Shot Poems
Long Shot Poems. Below are the most popular long Shot by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shot poems by poem length and keyword.
The lass came to consult in the darkening gloaming,
Shyly she knocked on the frosted window
Of the gypsy’s cabin. She was sick with trepidation,
As she was ushered into the musty decrepit room.
The crystal globe on the table seemed opaque.
Unpredictable how things came fearsomely to a head.
The globe cleared momentarily and became luminous.
This was followed by intimidating hums and aha,
As if all has been quickly but ominously revealed.
The gypsy fortune teller’s voice was full of pathos,
“I see a young valiant man guiding you into a shop.
Armed men entered to steal what they could.
Someone fired a shot. The young man protected her.
He died on the spot.” All this she saw in the globe.
The young lass vowed she’d never enter any shop,
But the gypsy assured her that she would do so.
The future cannot in any way be changed. It was immutable.
The lass left; sure, she would be melancholy forevermore.
The gypsy gathered her ill-gotten money and wondered
How the young ones, so ready with money, were so gullible.
My wife and I both worked at a video game store.
They closed and we're not working there anymore.
They closed their doors because of this damn Coronavirus.
We're unemployed and no other businesses are willing to hire us.
We got our twelve hundred bucks from the Government but we had to pay a hospital bill.
We're in a sinking boat and it's going down fast, I wish that the Coronavirus wasn't real.
Our families and friends can't help us and we need cash.
I'm so desperate that I'm about to do something that's rash.
I need money because I'm out of a job.
I'm in a liquor store that I intend to rob.
I just pulled my gun on the owner and he has grabbed his gun as well.
He just shot me in the chest and in a moment, I'll be sent straight to Hell.
My wife will get my life insurance money because I'm going to cease to live.
Please talk to my wife on my behalf, please beg her to forgive.
Smiler they called her
A proper social engager
A befriender - listener
Then something changed
Her sparkle went
Slowly - over time
Like someone turned out the light
Fading - retreating back
Always apologetic
Even if not at fault
Excuses
No longer mixing
Then the frown
Or deep sadness
Written across her lips and eyes
Always too busy
With something else
Silent and timid
In the presence of certain people
Particilarly one
Finding conversation difficult
Trust shot
Personality fading away
Unrecognised
No longer knowing self
Uncertain how to just - be anymore
The depth of night set in
Darkness
Black well
Suffocating
Not recognising
Yet so in need of someone
An open door
A friendly ear
A hand reaching out
Discretion
Signposts
Building blocks to breaking out
Of the wilderness
Means of dealing
Chance of escapism
Rescuing the soul from control
And cohersion
Finding a way back
To daylight
Refinding the spirit
That once helped her smile
Yo, Iggy Iggy, I can't say this enough, but you tall Ashley buff, you got long hair, and you're ing enough, ing it up on the radio. Sometimes you ing, you're ing it up because you're ing it up. Well, your vocal time and your vocal clown. Vocal, uh, Talent ain't ing uh, Around for all down talk because you uh uptime here with a with the ing career .
Uh, 15 alone in Miami. You were ing near it. You can near the ing, uh, Break point. You're near the ing uh, clip yet they were playing your clip. When you were ing sucking, dick, getting sick of cum in your ing belly. You said, I'mma used to tell you, call it, someone come out here and give you some ing uh, fetty and tell me.
I'm ing uh Not a felon, a felon. Uh, you up is what I gotta ing put up with and I'm Iggy Azalea and you're ing not enough kid, but fill me up. Anyways. You know? Remember it like it was a ing pool pool guy, cuz I'm a fool guy.
I'm rap ing attack, bastard. You just don't even know. I look like a blonde ass little . He gets what I like to get ed with a pig made out of plaster. Last Eminem rap style and I don't can wrap style like Eminem Cuz I like Reese's Pieces was for sure.
And I like and I like him, but I like some Skittles and ing these candies. For sure. Represents the colors that cure my ing idol. Uh, sound my old song.
My idle Lima. Latima. In idoliba. Orchestra.
Uh, more than we save more people than FEMA. Okay, to save more people than FEMA. That's like, First Kings Orchestra. From the land of under ischema. Under the team of record recorder Anista. The courtista ing more than it, the price of bread and pizza. Yeah, the Bautista shot the bed in the head with the ing large ass spike and called that knife, at least it was sharp enough to cut right through.
Most of the time hidden from sight
surrounded by densely thick mist
the island had evolved differently
it was a place of tranquillity
No human foot had ever stepped on it
coral white sands gleaned and sparkled
palm trees waved their stately branches
multi coloured parrots swung amidst the fronds
Their harsh but cheerful cries filled the air
below roamed mystical unicorns and even a phoenix
happily cavorting on emerald green plains
while busy monkeys chittered in the dense forests
Geysers shot scalding waters in high plumes
keeping the island at tropical heat
a natural barrier reef surrounding it
strange as soon as you crossed the reef
All signs of the fog disappeared
leaving the island in plain view
here there had never been a shot fired
the wild inhabitants knew no fear of man
Ever changing latitude and longitude
the island drifted from place to place
a paradise totally unspoilt by time or man
mariners whispered of its existence
Yet on no maps did it ever appear
wrapped safe in its shrouding mists
every century it would briefly appear
never emerging in the same place twice
As it floated the ocean currents
sometimes to the far bitterly cold north
then it would be briefly spotted in the east
the island kept its secrets safe from mankind
written 02/23/2014
contest Islands sponsor Anthony Slausen
At night
a shot or two
rings out.
Vartan turns over
and looks at his wife
safely on the side of the bed
away from the window.
He senses
the difference between
sounds of alcohol fueled rounds,
and those from long ago, booted
hate filled men.
Sunland-Tujunga.
The late night discharges
of aimless despair.
Most early Saturdays,
he leans on the same white wall,
black grilled windows, no signs,
no numbers.
The corner of his street and
Foothill Boulevard.
He and his friend, Marhar,
smoke in the morning sun.
They are disturbed only by
an occasional car with an emboldened exhaust.
They know from passed down stories
the deep chill of Zeitoun,
the snow,
the shooting,
the running.
The hiding in caves.
The red lines in the snow.
They know in their veins
who they are,
even against this warm,
white, unblemished, smooth wall.
They are all the lost brothers.
Boys.
They shiver.
They weren’t there.
It was too long ago.
They were there.
Instead, one tells a story
of last night’s
Knuckle-Bones game
and what they won
or lost.
It is a better
to laugh,
shake the head.
Not bury one
on top of the other.
- Junior piece of acephalus
go to sleep !
"If you do not do what I tell you,
I'm going to give you serious bronchitis ...!
And if I do, I'll give you a headache.
followed by migraine ...!
your face of stroke ...!
"Father, today you're a maniac,
manic-depressive...
- I do not know bucephalus, it's this virus
that circulates around ... this one of
neurasthenia...?
"What's the matter with you, have you otitis?"
- Not father, it's because of cramps ...
- Cramps, this is your sister's thing!
- It's not that father, it was something I ate ...
- Again eating ...!
-Take this stopper, go ... and go.
sleep later ... take some tsetse flies
to the bedroom you soon sleep ....
- Dad, I'm using another method.
more natural! I loose the lambs.
who are stuck in the closet and start
to count ... and you, your constipation
How do you do ...?
"Now, you little , I use a little
of poison extracted from the Amazonian toad ...
it's shot and fall ... I die instantly,
I mean sleep instantly ...!
"And poor mother, father!"
always with their anxiolytics ...
- It's your mother always with her methods
pseudo scientists, this medicine
allopathic ... with nothing!
It's this passiflora, serene, sleep well,
all natural ... Legal is your sister,
who sleeps all night only with
the hammer I put on her head ...
- Steel hammer, father ...!?
"What, nothing, rubber hammer, these
of disassembling car body ...
- Good evening, schizophrenic father!
- Good evening your diarrhea ... or better
that scientific word dysentery ... he, he, he,
I do not know... !
Warning I'm about to slaughter
This true love I've always fought for
With an arrow of desire
Lighting your whole world on fire
Shooting you straight through your heart
It will only take one shot
As I aim my steady bow
Quickly you'll feel a blow
That releases every feeling
Buried in me, you'll be reeling
There's no cure from this injection
Causing a lifetime infection
Coursing through your blood and veins
Finally entering your brain
Making you incurable
From love so adorable
You do not want it to end
From the warm and cozy shiver
That's making you shake and quiver
All over from head to toe
Because my cupids arrow
Worked a great big miracle
I can't believe how wonderful
It is to finally be
Part of a caring unity
Too many followers checking up on me noone seems to just let me be in my zone all alone I run with a pack now on my phone lone wolf no more walking from store to store to fill a hole I can't restore at anytime I'm triggered more can you believe the stories I tell ? or will they send me off to hell? I'm just open and blowing off steam I used to have a dream team P.I.C partners in crime where can they be ? Oh yes I stress one was shot at a hotel other one has simply fell off the face of the earth and won't reach out I'm simply cursed of having no friends who stick around as long as I got me then I'm safe and sound .
Yesterday,
I tuned into my local news channel;
Wow, color me surprised...
There was news about a shooting!
Today,
The same news anchor reported
About a child shot
At some Baltimore street corner;
Transported to shock trauma
Where he tragically expired.
Sad surprise graduates
To shock;
A trauma to my system.
Please, pardon that pun!
How upsetting? A child...
One foot out of the womb, gone.
What the heck!?
Tomorrow,
Oh I know...I just know...
Another shooting will take place,
Even if
It doesn't make the news.
Sickening deja vu
Piled atop another, and another!
Deja Vu Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Date written: 02/24/2023