Long Sit tight Poems
Long Sit tight Poems. Below are the most popular long Sit tight by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sit tight poems by poem length and keyword.
In season, sonnets often find their bloom
by trailing lesser forms towards the light;
a patient wait’s reward is greater room,
and thus they are content to just sit tight.
But once a way appears, they make their move
and quickly seize the opportunity.
Iambs, awkward at first, begin to groove
and make connections naked eyes scarce see.
Then bursting forth, the buds now put on flesh,
give weight to what was formerly a hint.
With careful pruning, parts are truly meshed,
can best express their purposeful intent.
When poets cultivate a love’s pursuit,
the sonnet bears the sweetest of the fruit.
Party invitations popped up in everyone’s hand.
The Wizard invited everyone special in the land.
With magic galore, it was destined to be grand.
He made sure good fairies and elves were banned.
To respond they were invited to RSVP The Wizard.
On the menu would be yummy fricassee of gizzard.
And a huge bowl of sautéed toad eyes with lizard.
The host planned it was held on a night of a blizzard.
All in readiness as the guests were arriving first.
Were offered blood cocktails to quench their thirst.
Little did they know the drinks were cursed.
Sit tight you haven’t as yet even heard the worst.
For entertainment a banshee wailed a blood curdling song.
Dracula danced with Medusa to slow songs all night long.
When he tried to bite her neck, her snakes came on strong.
Witches and goblins, ghosts and ghouls all shared a bong.
Pinning the tail on the donkey beware as the donkey kicks.
Not bobbing for apples in a barrel, these were live chicks.
There were ghastly horror movies playing, Taylor Swift flicks.
All had nightmares after the party the Wizard was up to his tricks.
Just as bees squeeze like watermelon seeds
Spit across apricot fields
My wife and I on Friday
Join the lines of highways up north
Pulled by hilltops to the Leelanau blue sky
Where lakes stir in the wind at the citrus rims
Of wine valleys below
And cherry orchards blossom in row after row
Like sheets of cupcakes spiraled with frosting.
Tonight we will sit tight around our lakeside fire
As petals closed upon this blaze of flower
With a Loon trilling her flute of bones
To the stars salted across the night
And voices bump from shore to shore
Murmurs softened beyond repair
The cabins flickering to a second life
In a fuse of fire lit around our lake
A tradition. We stop the car a ways away
From my mom and dad’s cabin
And let out our kids on the shoulder of road
To run like deer the final half mile.
The Trails of Sanity
Why do I care if the disturber carries on
Why is it I cannot just wait it out, bide my time
Be more mindful, try and bond
Embrace what I don’t understand
Welcome the scorching taste in my mouth
I wait, I watch, and watch and wait
what seems a millennium
The afterglow of embers still burn
Just sit tight…
The day ends with a tug on the swatch
of the backpack, I doff it off my shoulders
I hear the trifles start up once more behind me
As my eyes wander upwards
As the Rigel star taps into my soul
As I surrender inward, a whispering voice
cues consolingly…
Here you are
Mind at ease
Free
A dedication to my roommate
The way she left,
The remotes side by side on my bed she left
I remember the day I fought
for the remotes to be left by my cot
I screamed
We were just strangers living feet apart
You thought I was a selfish prick,
I thought you were a boring stick,
I remember the day you bored me with those chessy flicks
I grumbled
We were just strangers living feet aparts
You speak I am just a robot, who nods side to side,
Never looking eye to eye.
I remember the day you cried,
Into your pillow at night,
I know I should have held you tight,
And told you it was alright,
But I was a selfish prick and you were right,
I told you,"well it is life, so shut up and sit tight",
You laughed, I was suprised,
We were not so strangers living feet apart
I remember the day you fell ill,
I wanted to run like hell,
But came out of my shell,
I stayed still,
no sound, lights down until,
You were well.
And then I came down too,
With the same sickness as you,
But you were there for my rescue,
We might be stuck in this place smelling of shoo,
With no of our own tissue,
But through highs and lows,
You were there for me and I for you,
Two lonely souls,
Just living feet apart
I remember the last meal we shared,
No calls after that,
If you meet me on the road somwhere,
Please remember the moments we shared,
The wardens we scared,
The glares we snared,
We were one hell of a foolish pair,
So smile,
As we were strangers, who lived feet apart.
#3: Tis Twilight Time
Goal hour is here ... the spirit joins the soul,
ephemeral or twilight ... or two worlds,
dreams; exchange facts for fiction ... a black hole,
furtherance, lying on a bed of pearls.
The Ancient Mariner, sailed all seven,
--but know that all of creation matters,
Jules Verne starts your voyage, you'll break even,
the journey will seem endless ... but crackers!
The choices lay at your feet, just explore,
"Around...," "Center...," "Under...," "Mysterious...,"
most productive voyager--go ashore.
This would be the trice of time, serious,
for the twinkling has arrived, tis Twilight,
Time, inspired, now expired, on-site, sit tight.
6/29/22
Wars suck
Often unfair instead of more just
Through problems can't always take a shortcut
If it serves no benefit, it's not worth much
For what?
I don't need to ride any tour bus
I was down to less than four bucks
Everyday I'm torn and stuck
Eventually the door shuts
That's it, should've always trusted your gut
Another night I smoke and pour up
Getting closer toward a rush
Yet this pattern I'm getting bored of
I just wanted more love
Before I turn to mortal dust
An occasional tick bite
Rarely has it all been nice
It's life
Looking at it with insight
At midnight
Got to get s*** right
Otherwise I'm on thin ice
Does no good to sit tight
Staying in the dark instead of where it transmits light
I don't need to drone and whine
My soul alive
Got to hold the line
Original not a prototype
I had to roll the dice
Then broke the ice
In order to be bonafide
I need no disguise
Why does there always got to be shots fired?
Endless gossip or mouths shut and jaws wired
From the same shenanigans mom's tire
Close and far from fences made of wrought iron
My soul always on fire
It's been a long day, I'm dog tired
Well, so they tell us-
the political gladiators and
heavy weights. That in permanent
servitude we must remain.
They create a void in our stomachs,
which they momentarily fill with
what they carted away from us.
Just for their self will and whims
for another leap year's tenure to
be entrenched.
They widen the capacity for evil
of the canines they have intentionally
starved.
For a bone's morsel, the canines
viciously their draconian orders
execute.
Just for their masters' sit-tight
bid to be guaranteed.
Restrained with the servile chains
of their desperate overlords, they bark
ravenously at the oppressed,
who have come to liberate themselves
at polling units.
Each time the unworthy is by the
ballot box overthrown, the ravenous
canines at the hands of feeble
patriots gnaw.
A pound of flesh they take
from the down-trodden kingmakers,
to usurp the power they have
in good governance vested.
The umpire with filthy lucre gratified,
raises the hand of the fraudulently
triumphant political Brahmin,
who for another leap year's tenure
subjugates his dalits with utter
deprivation; ASUU strikes, poor infrastructure,
incessant power cuts, poor health delivery,
persistent insecurity, unemployment
and the cancerous bad governance.
With fat cheeks and stiff neck
that is well sunken into a robust torso,
he regularly raises the sides of an
African attire of elitist renown,
set once more to amass more spoils
of political office for a privileged
family dynasty.
Call me a humble Knight
who'd dismantle all corruption
in catabolism
watching over you even at night
as our present dark moments
transform through baptism
to what we once enjoyed: The Light!
Shielding you in my structured protoplasm
as I take you all to new heights.
Definitely, I expect criticism
but they should guide our flight.
As we come together to function
like one Organism.
Please listen to me and sit tight.
I'm not here to steal your minds
as in alcoholism
not to cause a campaign fight
cos they may break the Country's nerves
condemning it to a state of National Autism
Your burdens, I'll carry with all my might
and doing otherwise?
I consider Cannibalism.
Nigeria my beloved home is under siege:
A death trap I see in her third mainland bridge.
The crying blood of the slain in the North-east
overwhelms vicious politicians with guilt.
Humans with hearts of beasts ravage her North-west,
outgunning her corrupt weakened armed forces.
Catacombs of mass graves quantify losses
incurred from incessant farmers-herders clash.
Darkness looms as stupendous amounts of cash
are cast in an energy sector like trash.
Her healing centres are no more than health morgues,
and her institutions breed intellectual dogs.
Her oligarchs of the six zones unify
to plunder, rape and line their pockets with filth.
With peanuts they entice poverty stricken
youths, just to have their sit-tight bids guaranteed them.
Indulgences from the gullible gratify
custodians of faith endowed with seducing lips.
My beloved Nigeria has failed to hearken
to the values of the elders before them.
With priorities misplaced, we go seeking
for stereotyped reputations in our trips
to foreign climes for filthy lucre to acquire.
Good Lord! When will values my mother-land require?