Long Split Poems
Long Split Poems. Below are the most popular long Split by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Split poems by poem length and keyword.
if'n ya can't
keep smiling
hern
fervently
'til lips
her
glimmer
with
grin
until hips
hern
split
'til
yourz them
kiss
together
nah
if'n can't
you
grant digits
hern
and eyne
hern
their guy
glint
truly
you just
are
another
ass
the hit
door
tap
From one film to the other, your creative styles,
Rebels joined, save a world, then you, sacrificed a girl,
Online programmers that you had caused their riles,
Mr. Santino wanted New York as part of his world,
New bodies agents inhabit, mafia's list, you've been added,
Earned right to learn 'new school', while brother played you for a fool,
Oracle knew that you're the one, as bodies piled while on the run,
Trinity loved you, that you knew, with a price on your head, all wanted you,
Only machines rule off humans' body heat, get Santino, so to be complete,
Just when things weren't cooling down, Cassian searched all over town,
Of the agents, leader wanted to get ahead, on the train, he wanted John dead,
His team want to rescue their own, Cassian he warned, or he wont be around,
Neo wanted to go alone, instead, but Winston told John, "Not here", he said,
World saw the light, Neo did the trick, John didn't have it, he must split quick,
In rousing dance, chants, people are one, eyes o'er shoulders, he's on the run,
Can Neo have a new machines flick, more dinner reservations, 3rd John Wick,
Keanu's versatile--better to none, persona and lifestyle, simply being #1.
~~Born 09/02/1964, Beirut, Lebanon, mother English, from Essex, UK, dad American, from Hawaii, mixed race with Native Hawaiian lineage~~
Love in Yellow
I love bananas.
I wish we had some bananas.
I love to write the word bananas.
I think about bananas,
and… sometimes.
I go a little bananas.
I have a banana bed, which is bright yellow.
I have house shoes that fit the shape.
My friends laugh sometimes,
and think I am simply a “fruit”.
When I go to parties…
I am always easy to find…
Bright, happy and yellow!
Yet, I know somewhere…
out there…,
there is a split for me…
A place that will accept my quirks,
as they are not.
How glorious the day,
the apple comes my way,
the speckled strawberry?
the blue fruit to make a cake?
that recognizes, true love.
They will be the focus of my eye,
the taste to my buds,
and the jewel in my Waldorf salad.
I will strive to make them ever aware,
of just how important they are,
exactly as they are…
to me…
Besides the oceon's kingdom
lies a splendid land where the heart
is made happy to its core,
and the soul finds its own freedom
to venture itself...despite of fright:
like a volture that has a need to soar!
There I spent the indelible days
of that unhappy youth and tasted,
with much bitterness and delusion,
the first bites of reality
that started up a controversy...
youth is meant to be lived up
to one's fancy and be entirely free
of obstacles,worries and sadness;
mine was just the contrary...
a boy obeying the father's strict rules:
harsh rules demanding obedience,
never bending to show affection!
Sad to say that my mother's brave heart,
sheltering me from his insensibility,
split up it up between the two:
deciding,with thoughtfulness,
which one should own it completely;
and as torn apart as she was...
she devoted her entire life to me...to imbue
my child's thoughts and recall them
whenever I was susceptible to boredom!
Now, as years wrinkle my skin and show my age,
I'm reminiscing the unsurpassable strenght
and love she demonstrated in her courage!
Besides this continent's bounderies...
where fearless men challenge its tides,
friendly faces loom like shadows
seeking that friend who never spoke of inner feelings
and hid the an astounishing secret from them;
and if they think, I have forgotten their kindness...
when I was scared and needed comforting words:
no,I have never stopped thinking of them!
Throughout my journey,the only face
I recognized was that of somebody
folowing my footsteps...not to make me trample,
to spare me the agony of mistakes;
its shadow could not be seen...
was there a misleading perception so imaginable?
Through joy,hardship and dire...
I moved forward with one thought in mind:
not to sway my attention and lose my grip
on reality...like the captain of a lost ship!
They were hard-pressed on all sides.
only shot, stabbing strokes could they give,
they were carried on a wave of hate,
their muscle's ached and pain did sing,
the time to push forward one last time.
The main battle unit of foot,
they have stopped moving back,
once more forwards,
slowly they sing death's song.
Once more the Arlagh feels their sting,
this had to be their last push,
their strength was ebbing,
the blood would have to flow.
The cavalry on the left,
all their arrows had been loosed,
now, sword and spear to battle,
half of them attacking the enemies left flank.
The other half now though for survival,
the enemy hidden, they came out of the trees,
live or die, Alahsar's own fight 'til the end,
only time knew the outcome.
The mother of the storm and her army,
they were now split into three units,
the mother of the storm attacked the rear of the enemy,
half the force followed the mother.
Four hundred dark men, ready to kill,
they thundered across the plain,
thunder and lighting spilling out before them,
death to the forces of Evil.
Two hundred Dark Men led by Turvehr,
they would attack a new enemy,
those streaming over the Palovar Ford,
already, the first rumble was heard.
black blood would mingle with red,
gold blood would also spill,
this group would have to hold firm,
if they fell, all could be lost.
The third group of two hundred Dark Men,
they rode swiftly to the left,
reinforcing the mounted guard,
lightning rode with them.
They rode their Unicorns at the gallop,
soon the battle crash,
the Arlaghs would stand or fall,
all was in the hands of the Gods.
Now, on the right flank,
one hundred and fifty shield riders,
they crash into the Arlaghs and Spiders,
swords cutting through giant legs,
spears thrusting through Arlaghs,
this attack was little expected,
now, the battle is hot,
Screams of dying Men, Spiders and Arlaghs, filling the air.
The shield riders we have left,
going over the Raven bridge,
they now gallop through the trees,
before them, they hear the unseen enemy.
The silver gate is open,
it must be closed,
they would gallop out of the trees,
attacking a hopefully, unexpectant enemy.
Straight out of prison
Wondering what I've been missing
Right out of the gates I stuck out my thumb
A van load of hippies
All from Mississippi
Stoped and asked, hey dude...what's going on
I'm here for adventure
Well hop in then Mister
Adventure is what we're all about
Now where we're all going
There's no way of knowing
A van of hippies and parolee freshly let out
We ended up in Disney
Me and all of the hippies
Where we had caboodles of fun
We met Mickey and he saw it
When I lifted his wallet
Now we're in the Magic Kingdom all on the run
We split in different directions
To throw off detection
It's A Small World is where I made my mistake
With that song stuck in my head
It's a fate worse than death
Prison now sounds like a wonderful place
We rendezvoused in
The Pirate's Of The Caribbean
Where soon after, in came the law
We all jumped from our boats
Splashing around in the moat
And had ourselves a good old fashioned pirate brawl
We soon made our escape
Out of exit door 88
Finding ourselves in Frontier Land at night
Where in the middle of the street
Were Mickey, Donald, and Goofy
All with guns strapped to their sides
We ran into a shop
And bought guns on the spot
All with Mickey's money...he's a mouse of a man
Mickey squeeks we're going to ruff you up
As Goofy holds up the cuffs
And Donald says something we can't understand
We had a shoot out
With cap guns no doubt
After all Disney runs a safe place
Ran out of caps in our guns
Which stopped our lives on the run
The wrath of Mickey we all now would face
After justice's hammer
I'm now back in the slammer
This time I made my own prison bed
Now I cry every day
What more can I say
With It's A Small World still stuck in my head
Inspired by Glenn Hughes song "Save Me Tonight ( I'll Be Waiting)"
You’ve left me, traced the trail of melting mirage,
I feel deserted like the desolate sands of dune.
How sadly my pent-up words ‘I need you’
I say with despair, you do not know.
On the sighing sea made of billion drops of tear,
descends the somber shadow of night’s slate sky,
split by the flying flash of a shooting star,
dissolves like my memory in the horizon of oblivion.
The transient flame of devoured desire trajectory
furrows in my mind a blazing trail of yearning.
I can’t trace the track of the spurting star,
for it flies away like the flicker of your love.
I sleep at the desolate edge of the lonely night,
I haven’t seen you shine like a star in my sky,
for you disappear behind the cloud of trance.
I’ve lost you, for I didn’t dream enough.
Your essence is with me as my second shadow,
fused with the abysmal darkness of my soul.
How many candles my love lights for you,
I’m waiting with pining heart to tell you.
As you walk away from my waned wasteland,
you’ll find love, not yet lost in the wilderness.
If you stand by my side under the bejeweled sky,
you’ll see the moondust set us aglow.
Take me through the night to the sunburst dawn
to your meadow gleaming with dew of longing.
That’s when you’ll feel you’re in love.
I’ll be waiting for that day till the end of my time.
My return too Orion on
an endless promise
with no "best before" i reach out.
I chose the colors of transit,
from the pallet supplied;
Violet over blue, deep grey
fuelled by a white hot destiny!
The rise then fall oh! how calm the now:
No conection between its clock
and the dust of passing days.
I attempt to slake a thirst so grim ;
split lipped, throat bare! skin so thin
as a veil, as film as a bare body!
floating amongst the tides of stars,
and celestial Ghosts. Only the disolving clock is visable, obscuring time "invisible"
On the rushing elemental sleigh speeding through the gushing air while burning fire brushes my lips the water of tears cools the re-birth, held in a palm, its time to depart, a flight on a perpetual journey.
Two lines in his head as straight as a die,
Lead hard through the cold and the dark,
Between the cliff walls of grime covered stone,
Through tunnels carved straight out of rock,
To the light at the end with love layered warmth,
To the field of green, red and pink,
Flowers escaping the grip of his demon,
Where he allowed his split mind to rethink,
About how he released his abandoned story,
Left memories all quiet and still,
Grew new healthy thoughts into streets of flavour,
Over tracks, over gates, over hills,
His once full and busy mental train wreck,
Sits rusting at the start of the summer,
Alone amongst millions of beautiful flowers,
With their vividly transparent colour.
this Democratic Party affiliated member i.e.
considered (with an eye blink)
positing the following blurb
for a very short while
asper the "FAKE" trumpeting
oaf fish shill offal
continuous, indecorous,
and poisonous barbs doth re vile
me, an anonymous middle aged
concerned citizen at thee...reptile
no...no...that, would
unfairly debase creatures such as
snakes, lizards, turtles, or alligators,
whose aggressive acceptable modes,
one expects tubby non servile
thus in my mind hiss non diss incriminating
cruel, fiendish, gallingly jawboning
mawkish philistine (YES,
I MEAN YOU DONALD Quisling TRUMP)
figuratively roasting
respectable people analogous
to rake them over hot coals
then, burn them at the stake,
which witch trial characters assassination
with point blank expletives
found an introspective chap (yours truly)
responds to broadcast
unflattering sentiments,
albeit swiftly tailored harried, yup,
yar...obnoxious fulminations rile,
said brief explanation motive enough
(occurred within a split second)
after gleaning most recent denigrating,
hurtful, lambasting puerile
verbal and/ or twittering outbursts
(MOST DEFINITELY) unstatesmanlike
at least to me: a circumspect enlightened
genteel individual kind nattering
nabob of nativity, who feels alarmed
at venal wickedness by thee ->
President Trump spluttering, smoldering,
slandering gallimaufry
predicated predictable awfully banal,
cringeworthy diurnal,
and fiercely hurt locker ful invective bile
perhaps indicative of dementia praecox
or smother mental illness,
ye would immediately refute,
and be in din aisle.