Long Sounding off Poems
Long Sounding off Poems. Below are the most popular long Sounding off by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sounding off poems by poem length and keyword.
The inhale, the exhale. It seems like way too much sometimes, the suffocating beat of my own heart, sounding off like the ticking of a doomed clock, that's taking way too long to stop. When will it end…the madness screaming from within, such violent screams taking that part of me I beg to exist. The inhale, the exhale. It tortures me, taking way too long to unwind, fragments of hope lost inside the sands of time, a grain I'm thrust upon, leading the blind, Watching the shadows trapped in the walls, taking the loss, then taking it all. Still it comes rolling back again. The inhale, the exhale. A pause between that taunts me, open my eyes just to spite me, closing the door, but only slightly. The inhale, the exhale. It's far too much for me to bare.
we strolled midtown for awhile
hints of sun followed us beneath the
bavarian alps i was taken by
the snow capped mountains creating
a brilliant show of diamond crystals
calmly reflecting from storefront windows
holiday displays of santa klaus at his best
i would say we continued past rows of homes
collected like doll house's just to the left a tiny
bike shop i rushed in grabbing the new basket
to fill with fresh granny smiths from thee upcoming
market in view just to the right african violets lined
the the entrance way leading
to the hidden park
a quiet nook in the middle of town square i thought
masculine most of all quite charming face to face with
the subtle statue of thomas mann my form changed
i was abruptly aroused by his daringness fine liturature
art and playwright mann consumed me with folklores
gothic tales the infamous lounging of salzsburg crest
instantly a brisk chill blew over my foundation dazed i was
walking upon frauenkirch
our lady of munich doting downward to my tiny existence
i gathered myself in a very suspicious haste walking backwards
staight into the kneeling black horse knightless his back emptied
a daunting task for the bishop beyond my fascination
of castles christmas past nutcrackers wooden trains walking dolls
springs bolts screws and coo coo clocks sounding off at midday
displaying the woodcutters the milking maids in german town
I am adamant hi cringe at the thought of dirty feet
I am biased and subconscious of crimson vegetable beets
No longer nowhere do you find coconut treats
Chocolate covered crimson beige grasshopper leaves
While ants are scrimmaging laterally liking playing football
And bees are buzzing around making a buzzzzz sound
Fluttering butterflies fluttering flattering floating
around above the ground the lower the sky has
Yet the parlay fleet of grasshoppers marching crickets rubbing their legs
Sounding off while they here are they there seemingly they're everywhere
Skreet Skreet Skreet the screeching sounds that come from their feet
Chirping chirping chirping where are they and do they ever sleep
I too have feet and I'm a floor runner
Twix and tween my corns and bunions
I'm coming running on my feet for you
9/14/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Just imagine...
Flowers of possibilities blooming
In the garden of your imagination.
Fun travel on nostalgia's time machine,
The sheer magic of moments
As if sand turning into gold dust.
Quiet thoughts gliding
Like rows of swans on a placid stream.
Endless pleasure carried in the back pocket,
Cheerfully sounding off like jiggling coins.
A much welcome egress
From a hum-drum existence
To an epicurean wonderland
Where the past and present are irrelevant;
Seen in the rear view mirror.
A resplendently bright future, gift-wrapped.
What of goals and dreams to accomplish?
Yes, set your mind free to wander, 'tis a portal
To paradise untouched; your very own.
Oh yes, don't quit your daydream, my friend.
Submitted for..
Don't Quit Your Daydream Poetry Contest
Date written: 11/28/2022
Resolutions each January I feel I must do. Early February I will say good bye to you. Sounding off about what I did not do. Only makes me feel more blue. Lingering regrets I now have. Using my will power did not help. Tomorrow is another day. I will try again next year. Oh no the year is almost over. Now comes another resolution for the New Year. Saying I will be better this year and will try again with a new plan
Written Date: 1/22/2020
is a mass hysteria
induced by the sound
of Indies short-tailed crickets mating,
not, as conspiracy would have it,
the result of a sonic weapon,
a microwave attack,
or malfunctioning eavesdropping equipment.
Likewise, the Sausalito Hum
was not a snooping Russian sub,
or newly laid electric cable.
No, blame the love sick plainfin midshipman,
a simple toadfish sounding off like a foghorn.
Pay no attention to the banshee cry of the lynx,
or to the brush-tail possum sounding off like machinery grinding,
not to puffins like chainsaws,
not to cheetahs chirping,
not to koalas bellowing,
not to ptarmigans chatting like cartoon characters.
Stories of spying and international espionage might be exciting,
but Mother Nature is much more surprising!
Inspired by "Animals Keep Creating Mysteries by Sounding Weird", Ed Yong, The Atlantic, January 8, 2019.
The Las Vegas shootings were Horrific.
The people running as the rapid fire was
sounding off in the background!
The wild fires in California, fifteen people
dead, and it is not controlled yet!
Hurricanes Maria, Irma, Jose, southern
coast is devastated, Puerto Rico is in need
of help!
Pizza Gate Pedophile rings in America!
Players kneeling and disrespecting our flag
for which Men and Women have sacrificed
their lives for.
Enough is Enough!
You will Not Steal My Joy, I reach for the remote
and turn off the "Joy Stealer" the TV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Michael Tor Inspired by Andrea Dietrich
Yes , got the writing bug back
Can do this in spades all day and night
Without even taking a break
None of which makes any sense
Barely less worth reading or writing down
But matter's not as on and on and on I go
Though I yes should most probably and
definitely stop
But then again I am off the clock this is
in fact both my hobby and day off
And I just like everybody else who doesn't
have anyone to talk to like sounding off
Until tomorrow comes and I then also realize
why no 1 is willing to listen
And the exact reason why then becomes
clearly apparent
Sadly unfortunately I spout the biggest
load of unadulterated nonsensical rubbish
That if the computer I am writing on
has a choice would freeze leaving only
a message that read
Though I may be a computer sometimes
you have to be cruel to be kind
Sorry to have to inform you this but
you are forcing my computer chip's
into wanting to shut down
A December Sunday Morning
By Franklin Price
12/4/2016
A December Sunday Morning
A little rain is falling down
It puts a smile upon my face
Not much future in a frown
God knows we need the welcome rain
Been in drought for quite awhile
Think I'll stay here in my night shirt
Enjoy the rain that made me smile
It's sounding off the tin roof
O'er the deck we have out back
A farm house sound first heard when young
A place some might think a shack
A comfort when I hear it
Today and way back then
Proves there is a roof above my head
And a home that I'm within
On this December Sunday morning
And as you live from day to day
Be grateful that you have a home
May it always be that way
I thank God every day that I have always been fortunate to have a roof over my head and family and friends who love me. I may not always deserve them, but they're always there for me. May I always be there for them
I can't sleep, never could sleep with a heavy heart, where do I start. Should I even voice my opinion, worries, or concerns. Just take it as a lesson learned. This is where I go when issues are unresolved, I feel like she won't talk to me, just another mystery unsolved. I'm lost, I don't like this feeling but it's what I feel, time heals all wounds, maybe it was too soon for her to tell me what she's dealing with. I wonder will she ever tell me, I don't like these type of changes. Maybe I'm too open or is it she's too closed off, this isn't a poem it's just me sounding off, I guess this is the cost of wearing every emotion on your sleeve, I can't help it this is how God made me. She's not you Corey accept that and maybe you'll understand her, I guess this is what happens when you turn the pot on high and throw your emotions in their and just let it boil and stir...