Long Speeded Poems
Long Speeded Poems. Below are the most popular long Speeded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Speeded poems by poem length and keyword.
I observed quite stunned as lambie
Voicfully blundered
T'was indeed.. A great vicseral verbal chunda.! Contradictve.!
As it goes.. Is she addicted.? I guess
God only knows.?
Educational standards.? Of this minister?
All seems so skewed, I think indeed she is
More like a (sin-ister) maybe been speeded up
By the w e f.? I have suspicon shes of the
Left.? Or p'raps past any known reference point? I fully expected to hear an oink.' I guess
I ln Davos they've flattered her hard.'said you
Are the only clever person, a star.!
All other Aussies being only retards.' And i'll bet.?
As they say in America..She swallowed
The whole nine; yards.!
I had a lovely little doll got at the tender age of seven.
It was made of fine plastic, with twinkling eyes and golden hair.
At a time when my generation had not heard of Barbie dolls,
My uncle living abroad had gifted it which I held as most dear.
More than anything I treasured it, and my friends envied me.
They always rallied round just to see and hold it in their hands.
I carried it wherever I went and always slept clutching it.
With its possession, to my parents, I made no more demands.
She looked so pretty in flitting blue eyes and ponytail.
Though lifeless and a mere toy, she was my all.
We were always together, so inseparable.
But as time skipped, she no more held me in thrall.
I slowly got over my obsession with toys and trinkets.
My bond with the doll grew thinner, I had diverse engagements.
I no more cared for my doll; it lay neglected in some dusty corner.
Seasons rolled and years speeded by, and life took new alignments.
I knew the annual clean-up of my house was long overdue.
Moving the trash, I saw my old doll in a junk box made of plywood.
The very sight of it brought a surge of sweeping emotions in me
Dusting it, I locked it up in my cabinet, a sweet reminder of my childhood!
I had a lovely little doll got at the tender age of seven.
It was made of fine plastic, with twinkling eyes and golden hair.
At a time when my generation had not heard of Barbie dolls,
My uncle living abroad had gifted it which I held as most dear.
More than anything I treasured it and my friends envied me.
They always rallied around to see and hold it in their hands.
I carried it wherever I went and always slept clutching it.
With its possession, to my parents, I made no more demands.
It looked so pretty in her flitting blue eyes and ponytail.
Dressed in frilled skirt and blouse, she was a beauty and my all.
We were always together day in and out, so inseparable.
But as time skipped, she no more held me in thrall.
I slowly got over my obsession with toys and trinkets.
My bond with the doll grew thinner, I had diverse engagements.
I no more cared for my doll; it lay neglected in some dusty corner.
Seasons rolled and years speeded by, and life took new alignments.
I knew the annual clean-up of my house was long overdue.
Moving the trash, I saw my old doll in a junk box made of plywood.
The very sight brought a surge of sweeping emotions in me
Dusting it, I locked it up in my cabinet, a sweet reminder of my childhood!
He sang seven songs of freedom
Whilst his cat danced a jig
And his monkey rode side saddle
On this pot bellied young pig
And the people of the village
All looked at him in awe
For none had ever seen
His like and type before
As they .peeped from the trees
He could see tapping feet
As he switched up the volume
And speeded up the beat
And they flooded in to the open
Left the shelter of their trees
At first just a little slowly
Then out in twos and threes
And the herders came and took them
Marched them to their ships of grey
That scoured through the skies
Of the endless Milky Way
And the forest seemed so silent
Not a sound to be heard
A silence finally broken
By the singing of a bird
And the projected image
Of the singer and his pets
Continued to perform
For a little while yet
Until the coming night
Cut solar batteries one by one
And as darkness bathed the clearing
The singer flickered and was gone
Even though days of life lived with
(all my children now grown) ail
ling soul of stifled for want of indulging
in ordinary experiences bewail
ling deprivation of accomplishing
healthy milestones regret a cold detail
reminding me as aging process speeded
as if an onset of late progeria fail
lings in this once skinny as twig youth,
now thinning hair bothersome - hail
yes (suspected cause underactive thyroid,
blood test will confirm), a jail
unseen by anybody even me finds spontaneity
bound from within this male,
whose counterproductive antics sought
to compensate for lost time did imp pale
and figuratively crucify myself at the
emotional expense of "star student" rail
ling (recent time gone by), thee (to her)
unforgivable hurt, the stuff of a true tale,
this papa does resign himself unintentional
misery untraversable unbridgeable gulf
the expanse of a yawning Rhode Island
sized Leviathan whale.
oh...thank you for the Trader Joe's gift card
this dirt poor mortal doth leave ye
with his cumulative loving re:guard
aware hiatus of estrangement (FROM ME)
the sad story of my life with mom, dad,
two loving sisters, who tried so hard
to reach out only to be rebuffed, as well
Abby, Eden, Shana deserving of so
much more joy...sorry girls dada starred
and created in his own living nightmare -
alone in a wilderness more bleak than Siberia,
within a solo battle pierced by my
own Damoclean Sword!
Time Today
Time
does not behave
as expected in this place
I find myself.
The very thought of a clock
on the wall is somehow...
profane against the moment.
Things have slowed down,
and speeded up,
in my mind.
My heart feels it...
My soul knows it...
Time
is not lost, but found here.
It is not made waste,
but used like gold to fashion
rings for a King,
held in place by miracles
unseen...
except and yet...
like only light beams
in the clouds
after storms.
Time lets rainbows be...
for us to see,
and let go.
You know.
Even if you don't want to
there are no exceptions
to the rule,
of the hour,
the minute
the second...
the last breath.
2/26/18
Standing behind it, is a legion
The mystery continuing to deepen
Beyond all logic and reason
Occurring every season
Shining like a beacon
In any region
Where the terrain may steepen
Or remain even
Making the best of having freedom
Even though they want to put it in a museum
Information on it kept or deleted
As of recent
Still a secret
Nobody has seen this
And they don't know how to read it
It's mission hasn't been completed
Those standing in the way get defeated
No matter if they cheated
They are always the ones getting beaten
Next it proceeded and speeded
After what it truly needed
And it eventually succeeded
".... could not stop for death- he kindly stopped for me-
the carriage held just ourselves and immortality."
Quote by _ Emily Dickinson
Scenes of my life passed by at lightning speed.
Everything in my being wants it to slow down,
in that moment as I thought that very thought
to my surprise at once, it slowed immediately.
I started to see things more precisely and clearly.
I studied each nuance, I was no longer blind,
I was gifted with a brand-new pair of eyes.
I found the beauty in any and everything I saw,
things that I thought meaningless and useless;
had much value and was very important to me.
My heart and my soul were bubbling over with
love, I appreciated all big or small life was good,
Then it speeded up again and then it was over.
5/30/2023
Contest: Writing Challenge- C Quotes
Sponsor: Constance La France
Time crawled silently on soft paws.
After years of anxious waiting,
Our little nest became alive,
With childish pranks and prattles
Two adorable boys ran round playfully,
Making our silent nest ring with noise.
Still remember those hectic days,
When my hands were so full
From tidying the house to keeping ready
Their school uniforms washed and ironed.
Helping them with their homework,
Packing tiffin, clearing the mess,
And being off to office for work.
By evening, came back dead tired,
For another round of mechanical cooking,
Queries like “are these the only snacks to eat?”
“Where is my workbook” et al make one truly mad.
Life wasn’t easy, with struggles rife.
During those years, how I longed,
For a little rest and quiet,
But at the same time, frolicking in the beauty
Of dreams built around our kids
Time speeded away so quick.
The boys grew very fast and flew away,
From the shelter of their comfort (?) zone
To far off places for study and later for work.
The house is back to silence once again.
Now how I long for the good old hectic days.
Memories sprout like pale shrubs,
In a famished backyard!
Our life is now immobilized in a coma of stillness.
On lonely evenings sitting in our empty nest,
We wait intent for their phone calls.
Often our hearts are set ablaze,
At the prospect of their coming home.
Parenthood is nothing but loving and losing!
May.7.2023
Empty Nest Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Cooper Etheridge
Throughout the history of human kind spirituality
has been the vehicle that leads us to a new modality
As breath is linked to life, it is the transient carnality
of the spirit, the one forever flow of wholesome chi
To breathe is to live, to live is to exist with extensity
born to take our first breath with lung flexibility,
we learn to appreciate our duration and existentiality
as we be breathed and speeded, into infancy
We live and have our moments in expectancy
honoring each other with loyalty and compliancy
The breath is the life and the life our determinacy
to exist, in a world of utter lunacy and discrepancy .
August 16, 2021
Form Used: Rhyme Royale