Long Sizeable Poems
Long Sizeable Poems. Below are the most popular long Sizeable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sizeable poems by poem length and keyword.
Dear Depressed, you’re the cuckoo who flew
From the cuckoo’s nest. Go get a clue!
You are too hot to trot
For a guy who has got
Not a semblance of interest in you.
He won’t call you back? Here’s the buzz:
He does NOT pick his phone up because
well, for one thing, you see,
you act more desperately
than a crack head who wants a fix does!
And that woman who answers his phone,
and she tells you to leave them alone -
It’s his sister, you say??
You are queen for the day.
Go sit on the idiot throne!
You’ve got kids from different guys.
Better think before spreading your thighs.
You feel nauseous and sick?
Well, I think that some dick
has got you again with his lies.
I would offer advice, but I can’t,
for all I can do now is rant!
Just be thankful you’ll get
A more sizeable check
from the welfare. . . . Love, Agony Aunt.
A response poem to the letter written to
Agony Aunt (see the contest pages)
Oft' I have mused about what I would do should I win a ton of clams.
(Of course I'd take my wife's sage advice and avoid the usual scams!)
After taking care of my family, I'd take pleasure in giving the rest away,
To those of lesser means, bringing miracles to their lives on Christmas day!
I'd seek out the homeless vets to provide them with food, clothes and shoes,
And send those well-deserving heroes on a vacation to anywhere they choose.
I'd send World War Two heroes to visit their Memorial in DC before they die,
To reminisce with their buddies, recalling the good, the bad and just to cry.
I would see that Santa Claus provided a coat and shoes to all the little ones,
And dollies for the little girls and for little boys, toy pickup trucks and guns.
And for their Moms and Dads who due to economic times are facing stress,
Arrange heat and food for their home and for Mom a Macy's coat and dress!
I'd throw the biggest party yet for families of heroes who defend our nation,
And provide a college scholarship for each of their kids to further their education.
I'd seek out old folks homes and those in hospice to give them a hug and hope,
And make life as comfortable for them as possible to be better able to cope.
I would ensure that the soup kitchens had more than ample food to feed,
All of God's precious lambs on Christmas Day who are hurting and in need.
I would donate a sizeable check to my church and go there to kneel and pray,
To thank Him for the means to provide such miracles on this Christmas day!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Tied for 2d place in Carolyn Devonshire's "Your Christmas Miracle" Contest - Dec 2011
“we look for that that does not come and go
it cannot be organic form, subject to decay
thoughts and beliefs are fickle, how little we know
yet come what may, our inner child continues to play”
The 'umbilical cord',
hereby symbolic,
its severance
where
initiated,
a soul of three,
and then much more.
Growing up was an
in-depth shared
furtherance,
whereupon,
directives were encountered,
either embraced or tossed aside.
Time and again, instant moments,
encouraging considerations,
imbued ponderance,
whereto,
we tether ourselves
to a sizeable pole of justifications.
Hail to a fitness club, or a cab to a McDonald's,
intermittent intervals, slim down or fatten up,
choice batters about a pole that remains,
until life expectance,
leans awkward,
wherefore
for time indulgence,
slacks a major facet as the pole evolves minor,
for one's immediate concerns, lies elsewhere, a priority.
All the while, the pole was steadfast but never silent
taking a backseat to the urgencies of the moment
significance tallies the hours near,
wherein
one now realizes that time is fleeting,
wonders how one's pole has shaped itself, was it worth their while.
At that instant, open their eyes
and see the poles that are
standing around them
bedside so they can
measure their
worth truly.
Where
we mete
out ourselves
to whom we truly
Blessed Assurance.
Whoever you're hearing me somewhere,
Hope I can't tell of how i'll be there?
My stem is strong and slender,
Upholds a sizeable vessel for your dinner,
Very I do appear in your manus,
Even I'm expensive in the midst of other apparatus,
According to many people's preference,
Concerning an intake of a beverage,
A sip at my brim causes special reference,
The bibber likes how I allow a fine singe,
He defined me in a different court room,
"This container is what I use in my cottage"
That's a point made by the prospective man at a forum,
Since I'm somehow fragile,
And Comes in attractive colours which are vital,
Already I'm pompous as much is said,
Handle me with an optimal care,
Get me to your wine bar as you dare,
And never wll you regret taking me there.
There was a lady in her late thirties
She loved juicy gossip and kitty parties
Kids were two, an older boy and a younger girl
Naughty devils but the lady’s whole world
The lady was always in makeup from morning to night
Spending money on cosmetics you can imagine the lesser half’s plight
That never deterred her from buying new things in the markets
Every day there would be deliveries in boxes and baskets
One day the lady went to a wedding party with her little daughter
The daughter was so happy and enjoyed the party till the wee hour
While returning, it started to rain heavily and not a soul on the road
There was no cab to take them home nor transport of any mode
It rained and rained until their dresses were fully stained
With patches of dirt that clung, their bodies tired and strained
The waterproof makeup was no match for the heavy downpour
And washed away the grease from face in six minutes and four
The little girl was horrified to see a stranger holding her tiny arm
In a stuttering voice, she asked “Aunty where is my pretty mom?
Why are you holding my arm and where are you taking me?
I want my mom, you witch, don’t think you’ll have me for free”
With that, the little girl began shouting and shrieking
In no time a sizeable crowd gathered from nothing
They enquired about the reason for the commotion
The lady replied quivering with fear and emotion
That the makeup had washed away leading to confusion
The little girl did not recognize her mother due to misconclusion
The heavy rain had washed away all remnants of vanity
And she now stood before her child like a criminal, about to lose her sanity
That day she understood the importance of looking at her original self
And to never wear makeup to confuse the child and fake herself
The little girl, all grown up and beautiful whenever goes down memory lane
She laughs out loud but neither the mother nor she wore makeup again
The first time you tried to walk you fell,
look at you now staying up right so well,
often the first attempt at the unknown
is simply "chance" with luck thrown,
tough times challenge and cause stress
the first time writing you made a mess
you can achieve the task most sizeable
as you did learning to ride a bicycle
when you were little you learnt your name
treat all knowledge in life just the same
when attempting that what is unfamiliar
and unknowing of anything similar
the attempt is just you getting to know it
once known of show skill to merit
the feared steps of walking in the dark will
see the sunrise and light sparkle
allowing you awareness, knowledge, vision,
remember ability fairs well in repetition
and be assured natural talent fails with attitude
you must focus your mind in order to improve,
the lesson of life is never give up, never give in,
believe in yourself as long as you're breathing
keep going when the soul starts bleeding
surrender is an act of self defeating
at the start you dread days won't be easy
so see the big picture when today isn't easy
testing times are for you too overcome
which will happen if you don't turn and run
belief in yourself is your most powerful gift
if mankind didn't have it we wouldn't exist
Four Letters Spelling Blah...
generally define mine anatomical phooey zook
corporeal status, essentially feeling like gook,
not my usual babbling brook
self, thus finds yours truly whooshing, he
could wave a magic wand (all thee
while exjaculating abra
cud dab bra, or whatever
applicable spell -
spot on - to re:),
vivify mine pathetic sluggishness,
hashtagged with nauseous
tsunami waves, and inxs,
where these nada
so lovely brittle bones,
and atrophied muscles free
quint times this day
feel robbed of lee
ping lemurs (yule
grant me hyperbolic
indulgence) spirited energy
versus experiencing hypersensitivity,
which head toot
hoe soreness analogous
(ache and burn'n ken to
contracting the Amish Flu),
where this jumpy,
manicky, persnickety, rickety,
and totally tubular ancient
tomb mess scent body
finds ordinarily endeavoring
scribe this moment tub bee,
a little horse and bug gee
(in other words), aye
experience over sizeable
(bare ten able) boots
of dizz zee
ness (as if pitched to
and fro on rough sea),
where webbed venting
helps this wordsmith
to sum men strength
tube (boo hoo)
himself from bing nsync
king mode, sans (10,000
leagues...in Dave vee
Jones locker) as a dee
pull lore hubble skidrow re
sid divest news junk kee -
do dilling with zero hap pee
go luck key
ne'er do well bummer, I...he
barely exhibits signs
of life breathe
thing inaudibly inhaling
and exhaling wei
zing all the while
with pronounced je
nais sais quois nasality
emitted racking prithee
moren slight lee
jarring with achy breaky tree
men dose skeletal pain,
thus fuhr re hiss lee,
heavily relying on wing,
and broken prayer hope fool lee
fully helping this
old codger (yepper me)
do magical wonders to re: captcha
lapsed la pas suh zoo lee
infusing this corporeal being i.e.
once again me
with spirited resurgence.
Back in the days
of yesterday and today, or,
traditions and contemporaries
... she came.
Yesterday and tradition say ...
leave your things home, she'll leave your things alone.
Today and contemporaries say ...
in so many words ... heart heeds all abilities.
Yesterday and tradition say ...
you leave, she leaves, or you take, she takes.
Today and contemporaries say ...
that theirs were words of comfort.
She came and they left ... she never came back, nor did they, except one, me, [oldest parents and siblings passed]--I'm the lone inheritor, with a piece of paper of a new sizeable land and redesigned coastline, turned into a new land deed, along with my new will, --sits in a bank, I, in a beach townhouse in Hilo town. All three (3) are well-deposited earning interests, one happily due in ~June~.
Sizeable Passion Grows, Unspoken Exhilarates Her Hunger
For His Undying Love To Her.
Two Heart's Collide Then Lightnin Struck
Only In Their Dream's Can She
Come To Him,
In Secrecy.
Wrapping So00 Ever Tightly,
Around The Clouds Sealing The Kiss
So00 Intimitly....Pressed!
He Gentley Lay's Her Down
On Silky Sheets Of Blue
Ribbon Caressing Her With Finesse
Oh So00 Ever Softly.
The Two Heart's Collide Creativitly
Speaking, Unlocking Lips:
Oh So00 Quietly.
When Two Heart's Collide,
Oh So00 Feircely, Knowing
They Can Only Be Together In Dream's
He Softly Kisses Her Goodnight,
With Deep Watered Passion In His Eye's
She Can Now Sleep
Restfully Against His,
Chest; Shortly
Awakened The Two Heart's
That Collided,
Forever
Dreamed....
Squirrels darting, dead of night.
Vivid velvet curtains of mist indistinguishable from city fog adorned, a courageous jogger, Addison.
Marsh light mirage appeared to beckon to canvass of the mind
“I’ll find myself deep within one day or precisely one night.”
Addison, was a jogger who could be imagined by the most colourful imaginations.
A person who ran, jogged, sprinted with crystalline clear visions.
“Ironic, I must connect somehow in every environment.”
Her slim svelte surging figure aptly attired for a wetland plagued by a city scape of habitats.
Just on the fringe of a sizeable town entering a 2025 empowerment.
Yet she seemed ostracized for whatever
reason quaintly excluded.
“My issue seems that I have been evaluating all around me.”
Addison tribe, circles, connects were many.
Yet the dimensions of personal constellation etc would taunt a canvass painter.
Her sister, an accomplished painter appeared to be intimidated by her feisty sister’s midnight trekking or solo runs.
A ballooning complexity didn’t interfere with her job as a new age clairvoyant.
Allied to her other aura surrounding healing skills.
“But here I am channeling for everyone bar myself.”
This angel glow mystery of a runner
Her images reflect in mud spume pools.
The micro burn of fireflies, the crickets clucking incessantly.
Sinister birds perched on trees a watch tower.
“One thing can’t does is paint
Leave that to my twin sister.”
Addison did a swerve, a torsion but fortunately avoided any injury or strain
“Goodness, a black eagle winked at me.”
Addison to her said.
A ghostly gothic gust of wind with a shrill high pitch appears.
Like background music
A grey splattered sweat from Addison’s brow was wiped by her as continuum.
It was so therapeutic for Addison this weekly fly by night.
Damp, sprays, squelching, soggy patches prevailed.
“I can have it both ways.
I seem at home here.”
Addison wondering aloud.
What exactly were the somersaults in her mind?
The ecosystem seemed like an imprint.
Yet I dream of this incongruous dash.”