Long So called Poems
Long So called Poems. Below are the most popular long So called by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long So called poems by poem length and keyword.
It's not that luxurious solitude you can choose against a background of sea or desert, a mythological desolation like in Antonioni's film, with that subtle taste of beautiful hopelessness in the subliminal search for identity that ends with a shotgun.
That's not the case in Cainland.
It's the loneliness of exile into the reduced self, into the emptiness of cutting all ties, and your so-called identity is whatever progressive humanity wants to see, but it's always not you. .
You have to deal with another kind of existentialism, just breathe, and while you're alive, carry on if you can, or if you can't, no one will notice, including yourself.
No press screening, this movie was financed with dirty money stained with oily fingerprints.
The working title was Cursed for the Place of Birth, but in the final version it was changed to Exiled - a less dramatic, more conventional title.
The rare audience watched apathetically in silence, distracted from time to time by the flickering of their cell phones they couldn't resist reacting.
One drunk laughed at the end.
Track One, Side Two
by Odin Roark
It was time.
He knew it.
Like the cuts on so many of his albums,
As he passed through the “got your attention” of side one,
He’d often considered the “time to acknowledge some chancier-experiments” of side two.
Yeah…
Back then, even though he was only thirteen,
His father had been prophetic.
After all, how many fathers would think to give some philosophy
As a birthday gift.
But that was long ago,
And now it was time he finally rejected society’s pre-ordained lifetime marketing blitz on how to live
And allow the oft times sleeper-ideas to maybe awaken discovery.
Just like his career of producing long-playing albums
Creating the safer decisions for side one was only rewarding
When there was risk mixed in, usually on side two.
Today…
He was going to welcome the task of searching,
Go beyond the choices he had been living,
Gamble on the unexpected,
Travel down the multitier-senses
Where less familiar ideas
Might muster appreciation for more of a being’s tempo,
Rhythm,
And harmony.
When he thought about it…
How enticing that flip side of the so-called normal existence must be
Finding out what one’s unknown appreciations are all about
That discovery of a finger-snapping epiphany
Ready to produce surprises for the future.
Lest he forget
Passing time was becoming more precarious
Making life’s tomorrow a hit
Would require risk of another kind.
He recalled his father’s birthday message at thirteen,
“Embrace the unexpected,
Indulge the inordinate,
Find the willingness to try track one, side two of your days,
It’s waiting.”
"On my journey through life, I have met people like weeds
and flowers; I let all the weeds wither; and gather up the
flowers in a precious bouquet." Quote _ Constance
I have had many kinds of friends,
in this life of twists, dips and bends;
and have given many so called friends their ends,
after looking deep with my souls zoom lens;
I have seen there is no hope for us that blends,
and no chance of healing that mends !
Oh, my foolish heart has always been willing,
to accept people into my heart with love filling;
but, I have found often they are just not joy instilling,
in fact, their behaviour and actions are chilling;
and all friendship on my part killing !
So, my bleeding heart lets go of the weeds,
for I cannot accept their evil deeds;
letting real friends grow and bloom like planted seeds,
and my "true blue friends" I wear like a string of beautiful beads !
Yes, my foolish heart has been broken lots of times,
but, with friends that matter my heart and soul chimes;
and even if I only have a few friends our love climbs !
Truth, I do not feel stupid for having a foolish heart,
for in life and this journey some scars are part !
So, I wear my scars with pride like a Zen warrior !
_______________________
April 02, 2022
Poetry/Rhyme/My Foolish Heart
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1445-071-02
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, My Foolish Heart $
sponsor, L MILTON HANKINS, Judged 4/04/2022
worst types of people in the world
my mother had opinions
about everything under the sun
dividing the world
into those that bored her
amused her or charmed her
dividing the world in those that knew
and those that did not know
she had particular scorn
for so called experts
saying a PHD
meant BS piled high and deep
never trust an expert
she would expertly assert
her greatest scorn
her greatest scorn
was for reformed drunks
calling them the worst
of the lot
they should shut up
and have a drink already
she smiled as she drank
and pontificated
about the political class
she had enough of them all
berkeley hill liberals bored her
bored her silly
with their endless games
among the literati set
Many years ago when I first heard it,
I gave it little thought.
Off and on, here and there, I have thought
about it over the years.
Just now, it comes to mind, and I seem
To be receiving inspiration to write of it.
I don't remember who said it when or where.
I don't remember why or how it was said.
But here is what someone said to me, and
I do not for the life of me remember how
I replied. He said to me, "Penny for your
Thought". No dought it is a figure of speech
That need not to be taken literally.
Notwithstanding, presently, if someone spoke
That to me, I suspect that I would respond with
A little humor by saying:
I dare you offer only a penny for my thought.
Moreover, I dare you to place monetary value
To my thoughts which are priceless and most
Invaluable. And I dare you to enter such a
Sacred zone of privacy unless you have been
invited.
Many of my thoughts are very confidential.
My thought is worth far more than a penny.
In fact, I highly treasure the thoughts of my
Heart and mind that are with me all the time.
Many of my thoughts are too hard to be
understood, too complicated for others to
Accept, agree with, and might insight debate.
I mean no disrespect, but there are certain
Access routes that are open only to God.
That is because there are some thoughts
That He alone can understand and interpret;
Thoughts that He alone will never take out
Of place or out of context.
Isn't it funny how time changes everything?
Isn't it funny how our thoughts are far more
Protected today than they use to be?
Anyway, it's great to have an outlet to
Share with others the thoughts you
Wish to share. But I don't know about
Those so-called 'Penny Thoughts'.
Maybe ...
.
We're most spontaneous for the recognition we require from others,
Known for the masks we equip from day to day life.
The struggle has become so fierce,
to the point that I cannot determine who I am,
the mask has been worn for so long and now I can’t determine what I am.
I think I’ve become a fiend,
the kind of beast that never reveals its teeth.
It has been so long with time and with how I have worn my cover.
That it even seems like I am in a hidden affair with my so called lover.
Who am I? I am believed to be a friend.
What am I? I now know that I’m your end.
Dive under and envision my personality,
and see how I’ve been destined to be.
Everyone really is dazzling in their own way,
we all celebrate our individuality even though it might be grey.
True beauty is in the unseen, no mask, no cover, and no disarray.
Ma and Pa dwelled in their brick rancher for many years.
There they reared their kids, seeing lots of joys and tears.
Pa was proud of his home and kept it in good condition.
He did lots of repairs but at times caused some demolition!
Pa thought himself handy with hammer, nail and saw,
But Ma wasn't so sure, suffering through many a flaw!
"I can repair anything that needs fixin'", he would crow!
"Why hire so-called experts, besides, they cost a lot of dough!"
A leak occurred under the sink and Pa knew just what to do.
When the job was done, water was hip deep, the plumbing all askew!
Pa swallowed his pride and called the plumber to fix the mess.
Ma smiled that knowing smile, her amusement hard to suppress!
His next project was to paint the kitchen, bath and dining room.
He splattered paint on everything, causing Ma to fume!
Ma wanted him to hang a picture for the bedroom's decoration.
He missed the nail, hitting his thumb, loosing a raging imprecation!
Though Pa tackled each job with intense determination,
Seemed like every job he undertook ended in frustration.
"Honey, maybe you should leave the fixin' for the experts to do,
And take up buildin' bird houses - that's a great hobby to pursue!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Humanity is punctured with many breaks.
Different eyes through different holes
grasp its identity through different visions.
Openness, honesty and love to a few;
power, greed and domination to others
and to some, faith, faith, faith and just faith.
Love comes first before anything else
but while propagating others, it is fatally shot.
The so-called trail-blazers of democracy
makes it crazy in the domain of others;
feeding a Tiger until it is dangerously grown
then joining other hunters to bring it down.
Beliefs without tolerance and peace are poisons.
One is honoured with the privilege to be part of a society
so human friendly and development growing
but forgets his transition from a migrant to a citizen.
So much noise he begins to create
to turn such blessed lands to the one he escaped from;
threatening the beauty of these Nations’ civilization;
giving Australia such bile, the UK such thorn
and Russia such a devastating pill.
If life was suppose to be so,
the Emirate Kingdom wouldn’t be maintaining its identity
as it is heterogeneously mixed eleven to one portions
in favour of the accessory ingredients.
Scaling humanity through colours
is as bad as doing so through tribes.
Unity and networking never creates losers
but marginalization and oppression breed deadly tensions.
Names, ascents, appearances and gestures
are unfortunately yardsticks for interactions and mingling
then Justice becomes wounded for bias to prevail.
All these make poverty freely govern
even in an Ocean of abundance.
It is simple to keep life smiling
but impossible when love is homeless
while selfishness is rendered the most services
but under the disguise of other honourable clients.
When kindness is removed from the equation,
a habitat once peaceful becomes the hub of predators.
Can you still imagine those days back then?
Hide-and-seek we really enjoyed playing.
Inside and outside of the house we were hiding,
Let the chosen one keep seeking.
Do you still remember the old days,
Having a shower under the rain on our face?
Outfit was soaking wet,
On the ground were dancing feet,
Days were old but happiness was too deep.
Memories of childhood were really gold,
Enormous stories have been told.
Moments with friends were very good,
Over the years they were forever recalled.
Remember the first crush that you had?
Infatuation eventually became love.
Entertained by that so-called "Flames" game,
Sweet smile appeared when "Lovers" would be the result at the end.
The world makes me cry
I have always wanted
a peaceful world
A world with love
And harmony
A planet were humans
Are meant to live like in heaven
Yes our heaven is on earth
Don't be fooled to die before
You see heaven
Cos you are not far from yours
The distance between you and your
Fulfillments of life is fear
The world is controlled by fear
To keep us obedient
They must make us fear
What we still can't understand
Instead to stop evil
Instead to touch the needy
With love
Instead to grow in wisdom of God
The world burns in destruction
And it so sad that the destruction
Of the innocent
Is the exaltation of the so called rich
Whose intension are never aline
In savings humanity
But the destruction of mankind
Is the author of their agenda
So tell me whose agenda
Can this destruction comes from
If not the devil
And the failure of the people
To live beyond the works of evil
Bring tears to my eyes
Cos I fear the end of humanity
Only God knows
What it will finally look like