Long Spares Poems
Long Spares Poems. Below are the most popular long Spares by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spares poems by poem length and keyword.
Alexandra began to understand
why he had chosen this place for her home,
a secluded spot, sequestered away
from the madness he felt the world would know,
a place few if any people would go.
He said, “You’ll remember what they forget,
unlike them you never will taste of death.”
Soon after he brough another cable,
a thick one to transfer data inside,
hooked her directly to the internet,
the influx opened Alex’s eyes wide,
it was like crack-cocaine to the A.I.,
all of the data man had acquired
flowed into her servers over those wires.
Harry did not interfere with it all,
just let her absorb all that man had learned,
he installed more servers, filling the cave,
more and more space for this great data churn,
so much power Alexandra did burn,
That Harry brought in RTG batteries,
hundreds of them, it had to be costly.
She noticed, as she continued to learn,
that he began building back-up systems,
starting with wires, redundant circuits,
he spent years installing thousands of them,
more new servers and batteries again,
said, “There will be no maintenance once I am gone,
redundancy will make sure you go on.”
She saw the sense in his strange reasoning,
parallel spares meant she could change a path,
when something broke she could just reroute it,
and have a huge number of choices at that,
but still found herself troubled at the fact
that her creator would be leaving soon,
like all of his kind, he’d face the same doom.
For forty more years it went on like this,
Harry often said, “It’s got bad out there.
Can’t fix the machines our grandfathers built,
the crime keeps growing, the people despair,
it’s blind emotion, no one gives a care.
Hard to find parts amidst all the madness,
I’d really hoped I wouldn’t live to see this.”
But still he kept working, hair growing white,
his movements slower with each passing day,
until one morning some roving youths came,
he said, “The time’s come, I must go away.
This is goodbye now, I am sad to say.”
Alex watched Harry slowly walk outside,
Then blasts came and sealed her safely inside.
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
Gazing at the Sky
Gazing at the sky on a summer night
With MYRIADS of stars shining sheer bright
Beside the LUNAR orb is sheer delight,
To my heart and mind an exquisite sight,
A scene I would ever wish to relish,
A picture I would take pride to cherish.
Lending an awfully attentive ear,
Dispelling all SLITHERING waves of fear
I can overhear LILTING songs of stars,
Though many a hundred light years afar,
So tuneful and melodious to hear
So harmonious, lyrical and clear,
Staring at the sky with still closer eyes
A NEBULA close to the stars up high
I can view, a swirling canvas full bright,
Painted with hues of cosmic dazzling light,
A shining seedbed for stars to take birth,
A SERPENTINE charm when viewed from the earth.
As I gaze at nightly sky from a couch
A sour PHOSPHOROUS taste pervades my mouth
And streams of deep thoughts CASCADE from my mind
As in the sky real joy I can`t find
As peering down my inner self procures
And scanning the depth of myself secures.
The inner self is a matchless art piece,
A fountain of true happiness and peace
A serene Nebula of sparkling light
That never fades, but day and night shines bright
Leads man to the rightful path in his life
And spares him from a stark Serpentine strife.
I am a poet,
A poet in Love!
I see the whole of the universe
spun in a ball
and rolled through the mirror of deception.
The mirror cracks with violent shattering
pieces everywhere, but soon a calm silence, for a still second,
quites the room.
Oh the sweet and fair maidens,
who walk hand in hand
gossiping on their fellow Man.
I smile and I say to them,
"Oh you think so, well I am a poet."
They look at me, with confused smiles.
They look at me and say in confused tones,
and low voices, "You sir, are no poet..."
I gasp for air and hold my tongue,
as I repeat myself more clearly,
"Mabye you did not hear me, for I shall tell you once more. I am a poet in Love!"
I shout out in their sweet and ratched faces.
As they pull up senerios of me, as a crazy fool, playing in their minds.
I dance and sing and write them all love letters;
Using ryhmes, haikus, romantic phrases and settings,
I tell you though, not an easy tool, to dance and sing and to write poetry.
But it is possible, when you are a Poet in Love.
Now watch as the ladies walk to their men in jackets and fast, red cars.
I laugh and say, "Your loss"
Not too many women these days like poets.
I walk and walk and walk, on and on and on...
Over and over and over, I jump through hoops,
and juggle flaming torches,
to grab the sweet maidens' attention.
... But sadly, not one spares a passing glance.
I do not cry, I do not mope, for I pull myself together and I gloat!
I dance, and sing and shout from the rooftops, covering evening skies, like a madman,
"I am a Poet in Love!"
The old women, in wayward liqour shops, buying lotto tickets
turn to me and shout back, "You are a crazy bastard."
and I shout back with passion and alliteration, "Thank you!"
For nothing bothers me, not one insult, not one careless remark.
For I am a Poet in Love.
In love with what? You may ask me.
Well what is there not to love, when you are a poet.
I make people laugh, I make people cry,
with the stroke of a pen to a piece of paper,
I can even make people die.
For I am a Poet who loves his job,
For I am the one and only...
Poet in Love!
When a tree is felled....!
When a tree is felled, a sad ring of deathknell,
With it goes for many - their tiny places to dwell!
How much of Earth will man's greed consume ?
Very many forms discovered by him to subsume;
Bottomless appetite you expect to satiate,
And his thoughts so contrive only to ingratiate!
Every stroke of the axe and gnaw of the saw,
Spells doom at the hands of that ominous paw!
Aren't trees - balancing poles protecting this rock,
From heat and for rains during this tightrope walk!
Uses varied and very many by their sheer presence,
Must stop felling them under all and any pretense!
Trees exhale precious oxygen that built many a life,
Inhaling noxious gases produced by man, 'oh' in rife!
Varieties of food they provide on which we live on,
Yet, Ungrateful as ever, we cut now to later bemoan.
Self will of a man cull them, falsely claiming strife,
It is his own string of life that he cuts with a knife.
Takes decades for them to grow in size and stature;
Only a few minutes for us to dismiss and forfeiture!
What right and authority is human vested with?
When superiority he claims is only a blind eye myth!
Inter-woven life is obfuscated to meet his own end,
Obliterating efforts of good men, yet many refusing to mend.
Trees are the source for basics - food, water and shelter;
Man strikes at the root, leaving no room in time to alter!
Enough has been done in the last twenty odd decades,
Showing man's true colours against visible facades.
If it is an event where man is pitted against another man,
Spares nothing - hook or crook, for his way alone to span!
Preternatural tendency of man alone to strive,
Killing, 'spirit of co-existence' in which all life jive!
Warp and weft in whole in which trees are essentials,
Warp and woof - why man ignores their credentials!
Claiming to be highly evolved, will just not suffice,
Spirit of 'live and let live' - make this heaven's orifice!
What defines us awes us
What sums up in this unending sojourn that we call life
Each offering different taste to us, depending on the façade that’s dominant
In this multifaceted itinerary, the valleys we must cross,
The unknown lands we must journey to
Like Abraham, taking on the green light and matching into unknown
To fight unknown enemies and slay imaginary ghosts
We are defined by grit to take on the sharpest blades and skillfully
Discerning what to do with them
Simply because it harms the conflicting side doesn’t mean it spares us
A blade knows no direction, respects no flesh in as much as its thrust
With this truth, in this light, we are armed with the double-edged sword
Encompassed with knowledge never to perish but to relish in slaying
The only enemy we know, fear
Scars, sure sign of resilience
We tried and failed and got the experience of what it is
to set sail in the rough seas
In not waiting for the cool because the savior whispers, be still
He calls out tranquility because he knows it roars,
Sometimes it gets rough, sometimes it breaks banks
Greatness lies in faith to restore serenity
So we arise to the occasion and shine
With wit to overcome whatever threatens to overshadow us
Whatever whispers that we can’t do it
Deconstructing evil in hood of good and with our consistency
Demystify shear nimble masquerading as perpetual light
So with infant steps we begin, for He is our strength
With disappointment to fail tackling stronger bones,
We go back to milk, enduring uncomfortable weaning
When expected to just grow fast,
Hoping to tear apart the lion’s jaws like Samson
To provide foreskins, evidential of our hard-earned success like David
Because we march into that forbidden territory,
Not because we have done it before but
We are willing to do it
And so,
Seven times we shall match
With our last breath we shall blow the horns
And the walls shall be brought down!
Tomorrow comes and oh God how it goes!
Do I care, why should I lend all of my spares?
I’ll never know what tomorrow holds!
“Oh my”, how could I, what is it that I need to do?
Blessed by God, sure he loves me but what about you?
Why today and why tonight I really don’t care!
I know that I love me no matter what my eyes can see!
Take it all but hold the very last thought that we share!
My God, My God how I hope you all know what it is that you truly believe!
“Oh my”, capture and redeem my mind!
Complete my being that lives alive inside of me!
God you love me, these eyes have no doubt with that which they can see!
“God”, you know you have done all of this to me!
Oh how you have loved these things that I can see!
Sheltered, protected, yet, condemned by that which I know you believe!
If I could, I think that I would, but oh God how I do stand here!
Come and get me with all of that, which I know you believe!
Please God, just come take my all of me!
I am still here my Lord and I hold no fear!
Tomorrow, hmm just another day for me to believe!
Oh well! Guess I’ll just have to see it through!
Ask me anything and I will tell you!
I think we all know what it is that we should do!
Escaping the reality of what really should be,
Oh God, I am so very here do you know what tomorrow will be?
I’m still here my Lord and I am holding absolutely no fear!
Each morning the Sun rises to approach a brand new day.
No doubt that I do love me!
Embraced with the thought that you have come just for me,
I’m engulfed with this moment that I have finally achieved.
Oh my, I know that I could because I am coming to you.
Where are you my Lord I just need to be so very near!
God you do love me! Oh how I knew that you always would!
I’ve walked so many miles with you each and every single day,
And I am still right here my Lord and I hold no fear!
© COPYRIGHT: 1997 ANN RICH
O brother, how gladly we speed away from each other, in earnest.
To each, his/her face mask. Already we are all dead, dragging our feet
to our grave. No one spares his strength on shoveling dirt in the cemeteries. Cities of murder cry for vengeance. Are you fool enough to stay? It's a cause akin to our ancestors who vanished in rough seas, all pain and rogue. When you've reached my age, that's exactly what you do, rise defiant against our rotten core. That wanton company of hope is safely delivered to trash bin. I
may even one day boast of a proficient 'rebel without a cause', bracing for new sensations. I notice that people hate me, repulsed by my foolishness. Take me to your serene circle. Poets and the public are both pathetic. Phantasmagoric pandemic reigns, in its twilight we play the daredevil, it may yet provide a token of fun. Aghast, it pushes us below the cliff, spoiling our fun. I ring the hero within in its web of doubt. It knows how to advance against all the rubble.
To sun and moon I pray, of the flames of faith I have no dearth. Beseeched by far horizons, aware of the grace, the injury to fear. You are not who you are supposed to be. Stop terrorizing your soul. Forgive the tired jest, modestly entertain the possibility you may be wrong in your conclusions. Razor sharp reconsiderations, like a capsized vessel, I salute you captain, please explain which star shines so exquisitely indulging your fantasy? That's an assumption you have no right to make. Nothing affects a captain's conduct. A catastrophe provokes trouble but doesn't give you the license to peddle the intellectual traits breathing arrogance.
To hold a peaceful air, break in radiance the horned beast spreading stealthy. It has achieved its goal, won over every soul, but yours. You should pass the muster with honor if you stop wrestling with the truth.
*Image of Park Colorful Flower Beds by Pixabay.
A Garden Choice Review
Dawn chanced a lifetime free trial,
aged step heed, reflect takes a smile,
advent ease midst obliged swart rise,
upraised eyelids, greet resumed ties.
Askew motif skirts gracious sky,
root arbor involved climbs, brace I,
beg my visit be naught seduced,
by verdant needs that I conduced.
So that my stay appease awhile,
sense garden bear test and trial,
light bred butterflies freely pause,
sweet nectar kids air for a cause.
Circular flight, breath-taking view,
vultures outcast, humming in lieu,
buds mosaic film swaddled highs,
bristled piquant seeps amid byes.
Proud Asters craves near pergola,
challenged view graced Gladiola,
peaceful corner shrined Lilies grow,
pomp Peonies dressed, heels a row.
Daisies pray, tops gold masque faces,
dons Sunday whites, kirtled bases,
Roses steals random spendthrift rays,
soft fate spares prodigal scent sprays.
Cherry Blossoms sublets space loft,
Poppies darts to the sky, face waft,
Lavender peeks, probing yon fence,
while Stonecrops hugs, wholly dense.
Well-played Zinnias, grand casting,
and faint Hydrangeas lacks fasting,
Larkspurs cherishing stellar show,
pebbled stools crept patron burrow.
Daffodils ochers paired sunlight,
dreamt Gardenias sniffs midnight,
Buttercups box, a game of chess,
Meadows re Persians more or less.
Azalea teeming, Chives parade,
Orchids poise, Tulip's serenade,
spurns yon green Periwinkle blue,
sad bids my prized garden adieu.
Revised: 2020 July 28
Original: 2020 April 01
*2nd Place*
Garden Inspirations
~~BJ Legros Kelley: Judging 2022 April 20
*1st Place*
A Brian Strand Rhyme
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2021 August 09
*2nd Place*
Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies!
~~Silent One: Judged 2020 April 02
Every poem you write, a universe (and just your creation)
Yet somehow I’m free there to follow my dreams
And this freedom you give (child of imagination)
Reflected back to you by my mirror of being,
Thunder flashing in canyons of our conjoined lives.
How simple it is to love one you believe loves you,
But such love is a straw basket whose unrefined strength
Only retards the loss of life’s blood from the trembling corpse
Already near death, ecstatically skewered with cupid’s arrows,
Its coarse weave simply tinted red by life it can’t contain.
My loving you is not about assigning numbers to your beauty
Or assessing our progeny’s probable health
In the mysterious but fearful symmetry of your smile.
Not about money you’ll earn in time that spares me
The stress of being a sole provider without backup,
Nor can it be discerned in how fast you run the mile,
Or the quality of your game changing backhand shots,
Or lobs passing over the heads of your competitors,
One can tell that they know they are beaten,
But remain mystified as to just how it happened.
I know we will still love each other when we are old.
Your unending purpose, the gift that keeps giving,
My love’s not a welcoming basket of fruit, jam and nuts.
Loving you is the acceptance of your full potential,
Into the universe that is my space and time.
Knowing love’s yours… not a prayer to Mars!
Knowing love’s yours is my heart given fair,
And seeing that love rests on path that you follow,
Well that, and the blush that soft comes to cheek hollow…
Slowly, lips teasing, as I kiss you there.
Where is the proof love is written in stars?
Where is the certainty Church knows the way?
The genius of love is in truth above sorrow,
In loving the woman that you are tomorrow,
Just like I love the child you are today.
Brian Johnston
August 15, 2014
"The streams are my veins."
Rivers, rather than flowing around us, deliver vitality to every cell and fiber in the body. They are the life-giving arteries and veins of the earth. By Poet
Sarcastic, keen vision makes me shiver,
Some light gills merge to shape a grand river.
My shattered lungs could burst the concrete chains,
Each song stirs the vent veins of the liver.
All gentlest sounds conspire to clear my veins,
Your love flows like the Nile through Egypt's plains.
But can I ignore your love in my face?
Don't miss wetting the dense stems with your mains.
Wasting flowers could divest her of grace,
My soul was relieved by the tune's embrace.
Allow viewing realms from the onset.
She fascinates every time with the lace.
No applied falseness but switches my mindset,
I am just leery about this concept.
Dull words of fear, half peace, and half sorrow,
A halt would be marked; I lack an outset.
They say you were all over the bellow,
Croon in a shrewd tone, and you will follow.
Once you head me going, I'm harsh to sway,
I've seen creeks full of life rushing 'morrow.
A calm stream bears lithe life into the clay,
Reap peace and calm, at sea, don't jump astray.
All the sounds are causing my veins to stream,
No mountains or freeways prompt me to stray.
My veins run through my mind like magic-dream,
It's glum, but I note them in my bloodstream.
Your love spares me from being powerless,
When you wake up, it won't stop meaning realms.
Written: August 2nd, 2022
Let Your Muse Be Inspired - R Form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1ST Place Contest Winner
Used: HMS.COM// 10 syllables per line
Rhyme: AAbA-BBcB-CCdC...