Long Soundcloud Poems

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


The Executioner As Scrambled Humorist

within the under belly of
this hob bull ling Leviathan beast
induced roaring hungry soundcloud issued
within abdominal folds
finding they in creased

never diminishing, matter
whether I turn north, south, west or east
this adult desired,
soon after he envisioned
buttered crispy dish eyed fancily feast
culinary cut throat Michelin meisters
(pit a less lee) pitted
against Pillsbury doughboy greased
imaginatively gobbling hectare
thousand island inlaid
juiced kickstarting least

unable to pay thee Monsieur's consigliere –
damn, hard cold cash just shy by a nickle
aye first taken got taken hostage
as a wreck loose poet,
the anti write cadre
strip searched
every stitch of clothes I wore,
then subjected me to an aye tip pickle
pun hush ment,

where this deplorable basket case
stood aghast as hounds from hell
got loosed by thee Don Rickle
lathered canine chops
slapped by foamy salivating tongues
poised to ham er and

make mince meat out this pop sickle
but...lo and behold, as vicious
snooping doggy dogs
approached within a hair breadth
minecrafted fingers fluttered
in the air asper ready to tickle

whereat the snarling killers (bon jove)
rolled with faux pas in the air
kicking, laughing (or a similar
fox simile thereof),
inciting Major Domo tuff flair
his nostrils (like...well
an amazing dragon)

with blood red eyes didst glare
while fur sprouted over his bare skin
honor ably dispelling every last hair
which bizarre circumstance, an opportunity
to escape from this thieving Magpie lair

approved by the ghost of Rossini,
who suddenly prestidigitatiously
magically brought to my defense William Tell
(in the guise oven
instant activating App) pull lick caisson
thus juiced by a whisker avoiding a scare.

Perhaps the realm where dormant ideas germinate
will coalesce into sturdy tomes even if posthumously late
recognition gets affianced with a memorialized slate
where no body will lie,
cuz this mortal will get his ashes sprinkled
intermixed with wildlife,

who will unknowingly consecrate and sanctify
rack and pinion traction, 
where dost dust will fertile lies
to become reincarnated
via blessings sans creatures who defecate or urinate.
Form: Rhyme


Dreamer

Chorus
 
Never give up or 
Put yourself down 
Never hate this 
Tis just for loves 
Never wake up be a dreamer 
Till your dream your life 




Verse 1
Don’t pinch me
 this dream 
This cars 
this house just for me 
am joseph better coat
finer things stain my soul 
j s on designer sole 
made for the shine like a mirror 
about the money like a banker 
straws to all my haters 
so y all can suck it 
money talks 
cheddah in my hands 
Im holding conversation 
So good  a dirty mind 
You cant brain wash 
Your god deleted you 
now you are not saved 
Believe in you then 
Get money till they say amen 
Dad says its never too late till you dead 
I cant ever be the late 
So I 
Work and work and work 
And I 

Chorus 

Verse 2 
Don’t pinch me 
This moment 
This feeling 
This crown 
Just for me 
Am martin luther 
Better style 
Am no hoe land 
Even with a dyke 
You wont stop my flow 
Always do it for you 
or you get a crown of thorns 
They will stab you in the back 
if you save em all 
like the joker keep smilling 
please my heart keep beating 
where is my throne
needs titling 
lost my mind 
quit looking 
if its love keep falling
always keep time 
like your life 
don’t waste it 
find yourself or you lose your chance for greatness 
it’s a marathon till you run the world 
so run and run and run 
and please 

chorus 

bridge 
everyone goes to sleep 
but all don’t dream 
you are special 
may your work make men and angels cry 
 when it gets so hard like constipation 
when the suns up high and its all trepidation
looking for salvation 
and all is damnation
 sleep honey 
dream darling 
and please honey 

chorus *2

 SOUNDCLOUD:https://soundcloud.com/moses-c-chach
Form: Lyric

The Howling Winds of March

The howling winds of March

Furious gusts of air
mightily blow bestirring anchored poet
sitting comfortably numb
securely strapped in his hard to maneuver
easy bath chair
while all around him debris
strewn helter skelter everywhere
heavy objects unmoored
pirouetting topsy turvy

defying laws of physics
cue Adam Smith
courtesy his invisible hand
eulogizing, kickstarting, and regulating
unseen cogs and gear
in order to avoid being plucked up
analogous to whirling dervish
ye dear reader best don
top of the line name brand ironware

to fend off soundcloud
analogous to webbed
whirled wide rooky banshee
hounding kingly bishopric
inducing royal knightmare
whereat pawns called play
as damage control representatives
ultimately linkedin to medicare
for bodily harm suffered

and property destruction
doled out courtesy Nationwide Insurance,
nevertheless yours truly
experienced heightened anxiety
cuz I accidentally, casually, easily,
et cetera eavesdropped,
though a polite gentleman (boot no scholar)
loud talking policyholder
anyone could easily overhear

their strident vocalizations
and they owned chutzpah to *****
re: me for listening to conversation
threatening with abominable language to scare
living daylights, which nearly caused
writer of these words
to soil his underwear
such vociferous threats
wrought quick thinking defense posture,

whereby my ordinary shy demeanor
empowered after downing
powder milk biscuits
(cuz heaven's their tasty)
and declaring warfare
against being bullied
versus suffering as token scapegoat
most every year
from boyhood until emerging adulthood.

After crafting above lines
current generated via whoosh;
I sat mine hind quarters
(otherwise referred to the tush),
which signalled to Doctor Quackenbush,
(id est Groucho Marx)
not deficient with quick wit
whose hook, line and sinker
word of the day namaycush
helped one environmental seaman
high (fish) tail to Hindu Kush
where removal from madding crowd
spiritually inoculated one
with a profound hush.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Eric 2BFREE

(DJ NO BODY MESSIN’/ leaning into the mic, dim spot light hits the face) Creative force/ That’s the hum/
 Eric 2BFREE, the tone poet, here to stay/ workin’ the room/ his spoken word  jazzy thread  starts on the rise with a bit of cool/

 And what’s beyond his instrument of choice, his voice/
 a reservoir of rhythm, a festival of ad-lib words/
 a-side spinnin'/ born in area code 313/
 his higher level climb, etched in  his spoken word history, transcending time/ he did some time/ drinkin’ wine  on Hollywood and Vine/

 2BFREE is a legacy retro jazz spoken word poet man, a time travel brand/
 house DJs slingin’ his spoken  rhymes across the dance club land/
 Eric 2BFREE, lifted higher, shown and proven true/ Jaws droppin' silence as his spoken word breaks through/fresh finna/ look it up It’s true/

 rhyme on time/ scorching tempo/ a SoundCloud dream/ a Spotify sway/ House mix dance beats/ lofi funk on display/ drum samples strut/ a funky organ slow/2bfree a pantheon of spoken word speak/
 As a stretched vocal whispers, where do rappers go? This ain't their scene/ this ain't their gig, a spoken word groove, eclipsing their light/
  Negative life online, a pressure cooker's hiss/ too complicated, too hard to dismiss/
 For some rappers, a crushing weight/ as for spoken word artists/they be feelin’ the hater's weight on FB and X bout keepin’ their brand alive and up to date/ 
 While  the rhythm of the spoken takes hold/no radio edit/ no auto tune here for Eric 2BFREE/
It took him 20 years to become an overnight success/
To free up his words/ a hip dialogue in innovations in cool jazz speak/
© Tony Adamo  Create an image from this poem.

Sagebrush Saga Weed One Day

Akin a tumbleweeds  
aimlessly blowing in the wind
umlaut punctuation 
courtesy of let herd Mother Nature 
nsync with markie mark, 

(or other faux nuke heads 
on silent auction 
ajudicating bidding chopping block) 
or getting sparred 
sum xtra mo' mints

before morphing into gamut 
tuff height (against opposing 
super cross currents) 
bow willing head over heals 

deftly thwarting encroaching 
enfilade enhancing 
invading army of deplorable 
dust devilish debris 
with full Stanley steamer ahead onslaught 

opposing approaching phalanx 
ta become a foo lush fighter
putting kibosh 
across the infinitely open 
and wide prairie land

(which wasteland fictitiously 
epitomized and described by T.S. Elliot
with absolute zero relevancy here)
a barren vista ravages 
metaphorical landscape 

of one measly mortal malcontent male
bumping and scraping 
along an accursed habiliment
just barely avoiding 
and dodging diabolical demons

mercilessly unrelentingly ready
to seduce this somewhat sanguine Simian
who finds himself amidst pitfalls
of a tortured and twisted existence

racked with up pinions 
(halving smartly put irons in the fire)
deployed incognito 
tub hest describe demonic dungeons
damp, dark, demented domains - 
a veritable no man's land

and one impossible to escape 
from no matter how fast I flee
from the fearful, fiercesome 
and phantasmagoric forms

figments of imagination 
yet real and tangible as bone and flesh
haunt sacred house of slumber 
and transmogrify me 
into a loathsome madman

ranting and raving senseless 
gibberish and gobbledygook 
yet perceived as metaphysical 
and philosophical
sane state farm mister soundcloud 
syllabification stutterer 

from one whoa man 
World Wide Web wayfarer 
(perchance yourself)
which virtual vagabond 
venerates vowels...


My Nascent Poetic Tribute To Black History Month Mini Chap Book 1

this just one example of many peoples
   UNFAIRLY subjected
to subservience and exempt
   from enjoying the fruits of their labor.

January twelfth two thousand and ten
(original date this communique writ then 
kept wedged where in no wise 
bore visual witness 

vis a vis near annihilation and destruction 
of African, Haitian, South American, et cetera nations
whereby countless/ nameless individuals 

   e’en the strongest Herculean type men
   crushed by humungous slabs of
   building facades practically
   demolishing every creation

since this island settled, which
   indigenous tribes sought safety
  
page number 3

   in any geologic den
   seeking solace and salvation
   from wrath of nature
   by paying obeisance via oblation
perhaps giving credence to clear water
   in tandem with rooster and hen

   that laid a golden egg and chicken thing, especially
   as encroaching savages affected violation
particularly when Europeans
   foisted forfeiture of land

   with primitive implement like pen
   no matter that travesty, trickery, mockery,
   et cetera wrought humiliation
pleading invaders to forsake

   such actions that rent asunder
   culture beseeched god when
   these brutish, nasty
   and (shortish) Hobbesian simians
   to cease desecration

yet the peoples of this dominion rose
   from the ashes like the phoenix like bird
   no mattered genetic pool underwent
   white washing from scouring influx
from western thumping proselytizers,
   which alien beliefs hard to swallow like curd
   basically bribery (with lustrous trinkets)
   ah those coveted legal tender

upon emancipation proclamation cessation
   to sell men, women and for x amount of bucks
akin to the soundcloud winged fowl clucks
foisted/ forced the unpleasant alternative

   (wanton slaughter) to be clearly heard
   yet within the very fiber of tropical
   man grove persons patiently lined up their ducks

and declared as one of the first
   African American peoples
   INDEPENDENCE to be the word
   whence adulation, elation, inspiration echoing 
across ramshackle greensward.
Form: Imagism

Heartbeats and the Fear of Death

Life is so short 
But you wear trousers a blazer and a tie 
You make money and drive by 
Watch the news you are sad some random people died 
You are still too important to die 
You have a dream to keep you alive 
And god to count you more breaths than time 
Because those that died didn't have your tie 

4 billion years ago the world was made 
not even a fraction ago  and man was made 
And now the world is  a man made drain  
The beauty and the pain 
Global warming and a mattress 
But still you cannot cure death

   
Through the generations alive  
Billions have cried then died 
To the future we all are dead
To your children they mourn at your grave 
A skull on a flag  a cemetery on a map 
The beauty of death made art

I know its not normal to think about death
But death is normal even in perfect health
The truism that we all gonna die 
And every birthday a countdown to the grave 
Second by minute  by inch till it's  six feet under their feet 

It is sad to watch the world go by 
Celebrating life just to forget we are dead 
In a thousand years your life wont mean much 
But thank God you got kids and the kids got kids 
Because as long man still exists  
We achieve a species dream 
To die for man to keep living 

Open link for Audio exclusives
https://soundcloud.com/moses-c-chach
Form: Verse

Brilliant, Grandiloquent Magnificent Trenchant

Brilliant, grandiloquent, magnificent, trenchant...

Writing prompts burst asunder
deafening soundcloud roared
with apocalyptic thunder
'course only audible to yours truly,
I did dumbfoundedly wonder...

At o'clock tick tocking wee hours brisk
December seventeenth
two thousand nineteen
simultaneous blinding fiery kindling
quickening xing risk
within winkin blinkin and nod,
I feared full light of day brainstorm
snatched away courtesy invisible whisk

broom all those potential
ideas sprung while
Messiah by George Frideric
Handel's never out of style
within cerebral nooks and
crannies (think Ohiopyle),
whereby Youghiogheny River
bubbles, gurgles, fuels river mile

after mile harnesses and doth generate
approximately twelve Megawatts
of electricity per hour, to alleviate
domestic counting eight
thousand homes necessitate
distributed across western
and central Pennsylvania.

Analogous catching
courtesy goo goo dolls barenaked
ladies hands spawning
salmon slippery as an eel
(if curious don't take my word,

which might not appeal)
though yours truly
offers no guarantee,
you could easily fall

overboard as ye kneel,
which subsequently offers
live human meal
to hungry sharks, impossible mission

to escape no matter
how loud you squeal,
bouquets delphiniums and daisies
designate watery grave site
dissolving blood amidst the color teal.

Aforementioned depiction, whereby current
commander in chief
admittedly no gent
till man nor scholar, and
he cavalierly lent
and nearly fin hushed nearly
(possibly already) rent
asunder high crimes and
misdemeanors, he casually spent

constitutional principles of democracy,
whereby I experience torment
precipitating quasi riptides undercurrent
bigotry, demagoguery, "fakery,"...
misogyny, vanity vetted vice
whereby woebegone grievances
Pandora's box loosed
helter skelter they went.

Anyway... synonymous maintaining
readership attention blinker
necessary to apply unsuspecting
hook, line and sinker
without rousing ire principal

(at Henry Kline elementary
my dear watson Mister Rinker)
long since retired,
he possibly maybe grandfather
of one or more freethinker.

Little By Little

Above the sea

another ocean

and just as blue

Sailing upwind

is all impossible

But don't give up yet

Little by little I come to you

We' d catch each wave

We'll ride the tide

Little by little,We'll  make it right

I don't believe in fairies

but I believe in you

And I know,You know

Little by little you come to  me

just the way I do

Together We can make it

One pillow shared by two

Our sailor moon will take us

above the sunset hue

Years robbed away our passion

but could not steal our dream

In our dream all is possible

Our lost wings We'll redeem

With our  wings We do wonders

Our freedom makes us whole

We'll let dead stars shine their light

in the dark night of our soul.




Charmaine Chircop




PS  :  These lyrics I've written are now being played in a song by talented Archie Clifford and Alice Clark.If you have five minutes to spare please do support me and them by visiting this link
'http://soundcloud.com/archieclifford/archie-clifford-ft-alice-clark-little-by-little'.

Yes,Do visit soundcloud and support  the song 'Little by little'please!!!
Form: Lyric

Vroom Men Hood

Some dude from
     vinyl city revs engine
     of his dirt bike to the max
     blasting the air
testosterone roars throughout
     his every bone and fiber
     broadcasting deafening
     nauseating mating clear

*****sapien primal
     (atavistic urge) culled dear
ring lee from bajillion
     years old genealogy,
     sans chromosomal
     blueprint in heir
writ tens of thou
     sands sieve generations

ah...momentarily, there
     pervades a stillness,
which golden imponderable
     silence savored heavenly,
     gloriously, and fully with delight,
unsure when the next fume ming
     fuel blast will excite
the truant high

     school kid delinquent
     stinting precious 
    education, viz flight
o' fancy to race beginning
    at dawns early light
ear splitting unmuffled 
     noise pollution,
     where exhaust smoke billows

     akin to tethered kite
blending with rarified
     atmosphere height,
as wisps snake 
     skyward eventually
     getting dispersed amidst bright
amidst soundcloud
     clear out of sight,

which brief interlude of quietude
     near painful silence to bear
ah...thank dog the
     wind in the willows

     soon replete with blare
ring blitzkrieg bomb
bard ding doth declare
ring foolish time
     wasting youth
 
     desultory cavalierly,
     blithely and aimlessly gear
rill less lee spinning away life
     with nary a blues clues care!

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