Long Squarely Poems

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


No One Gets Out Alive

Though (supposedly) only
     the good die young, urn holding
     cremated ashes a mere cup
full, every last man standing falls,
     cuz nobody else
     escapes un pup
yule lore blitzkrieg, 
     or aging gracefully,

     the unavoidable eventual fate,
     (mortal fateful demise),
     sans the remaining unsung
anonymous peoples meet up
with the grim reaper,
     who will ineluctably disrupt
the carryings on
     with each and every individual

     (non plus ultra all other
     life forms as well)
     gradually or with abrupt,
and unannounced debut
     scythe lent lee appearing
     to whisk away the
     honest and/or corrupt
whether taking their

     first meal of the day,
     and/or last sup
per, perhaps sitting quietly,
     when body electric
     amp pare rent lee
     receives ohm 
     my word fatal invite,
     whereat permanent shocking

     quiescence doth, sans
     stealth maneuver erupt
tragically, indiscriminately, 
     and blithely
     mowing down innocent civilians,
     and/or training fate squarely
     upon heads of soldiers
     life during wartime,

where opposing armies regale
     while marching men go hup...
to three fore (akin
     to a story field day),
     winning booby prize, viz
counting on qua,
     asper winning lottery
     and/or Stanley Cup

major blood bath rendered
     significant counting coup
whereat each opposing fighting
     force figuratively doth slew
the other, analogously dost defeat
making mince meat
re: as uniformed brigades in heat
of wanton killing

     fields sliced minced,
     chopped nada so vary neat,
via stealth unable dupe, nor cheat
death be not proud,
     et cetera, nonetheless,
     grimly forced to greet
     a bonanza coup won,
     only tubby beat

tin to pulp by adept
     skull and excellent fleet
of foot (top
     notch crafted) sweet
(albeit) temporary victory
     tasting said treat
assailing, bruiting , and/or
     weathering stance versus

     alternating between defensive
     and/or offensive
     use of cross bones,
     in a hail of bullets
     instantaneously didst greet
fast and furious i.e. suffering

     deadly raking har row
ring slaughter, an entire
     phalanx gone, where
     (metaphorical terrible swift sword)
no uniformed fighter
     can never call retreat.


2009 Hyundai Sonata Funereal Lament

Unaffordable, yet valiant speeding, 
tailgating, and zooming Pep Boys, I cannot dodge. 

Yours truly grief stricken
(sob... sob... sob)...
wheely hard to bear
this anticipatory anxiety
riddled joker impossible
mission thwarting despair

death knell tolled (told),
woebegone news, I did fear
hears stunned me into silence,
the unwelcome prognosis,
I needed to hear
no joke, but good humor

totally wrecked vehicle forces
yours truly to become...,
no not a lion tamer
but, yes a panhandling junketeer
begging, copping, dilly dallying... ha
to accept unpleasant

unexpected dire straits
gravely digging within lithosphere
bidding... fare thee well
treasured automobile faithful and near
synonymous with ideal paramour, yet now
must confront stark reality,

lack ample disposable income available
no financial resources to persevere,
and worse case scenario me
and the missus will need to don
faux Santa Claus outfit,
and roundup available reindeer

for ourselves (yea... yea... yea...,
I realize how spare
and tired, pessimistic,
forlorn success such short notice
unless if... nah no fat or slim chance...
apocalypse ushers abominable thermonuclear

war, (I doubt Trump would 
pull publicity stunt
to be re elected - ha) whereby
Beatle browed, foo fighting
foreigners, survivors impressed, feted,
compensated... for service
unless they willingly volunteer.

Combination future pluperfect
birthday presents and Noel hi
Christmas gifts well nigh,
noah ark cake "FAKE" attempt,
to hoodwink, engine ear,
trunk hate, et cetera
drum, harp, trumpet... belie
including objective to shanghai,

nor fall out of good amazing graces
toward (me) garden variety generic guy
providing steadfast generous
figurative air supply to fortify,
revving me shaky talent,
ye may oft times decry
as unintelligible gobbledygook

brainstorming ideas to try
single handedly ambidextrously
poetically kindle indeed codify
to elucidate how transportation
car reared and gone awry
moderate expenses as original parts wear out,
(i.e. battery, fender, brakes, 
hood latch, shock absorber, tires...

albeit almost all simultaneously), hence I sigh
aware expounding circumstance that doth defy
immediate resolution incumbent to pacify
troubleshoot immediate impasse
squarely render quintessence
problem solving the overriding 
challenge, I vilify.

If Trump wins rest in peace Mother of Freedom

If Trump wins...rest in peace - Mother of Freedom

Post mortem courtesy 
Doctor Demento yielded 
Lady Liberty lies slain...
videre licet knocked senseless 
from brutal blows upon her crown
simultaneously shouldering existential crisis
triggered nervous breakdown
though rendered mute 
sound of silence doth expound.

Forsooth impeachment hearings 
rendered him immune 
to chastisement, insurrection 
he did foment, blithely 
skirting impairment appertain
blood on hands of
self important president,
though alcohol he doth abstain,
nonetheless permanent drunken stupor
doth wax and wain

finger of guilt
damaging democracy points
to him as chief villain
groomed since... time immemorial
atavistic primate brain
bathed (courtesy Frederick Christ Trump)
buzzfeeding chosen favored heir
go for broke – as a red badge of courage
bankrupt countless times
and pulled out all stops,

viz unbridled thundering, 
espousing philosophy gain
amass wealth, unscrupulous
if necessary where,
might equals right cold play'n
deadly serious game (Life) train
sight squarely and/or roundly
scattered lovely bones
amidst tombstones testimony
incidental secondary fallout main

part and parcel, where legerdemain,
plus art of the deal linkedin
with immeasurable gloating
ego necessary to gain
con fetter writ oligarchy plain
successfully cheating, hocking,
milking, quaffing, and trending,
yielding dynastic rule
trumpeting eternal and carnal
stormy Daniels reign

vaping with wealthy
zealotry (think vain)
at electorate expense
tampering koolaid acid test
courtesy illegals sown GMO grain
colluding when/where possible,
never losing sight regarding
selfish mission to attain
obligatory ideal tyranny
rampantly running roughshod,

no need to explain
writing sleight underhanded profane
antithetical, critical, heretical quatrain
badgering, belittling, besmirching,
bilking, boasting, bragging with disdain
flagrantly flaunting, fleecing,
regarding purported B.S. degree
in economics he did attain
matriculating Wharton School of law,
hmm... methinks he paid

hireling from Ukraine
forever flirting, flouting, and flunking
even basic geography questions
case in point being 
where is Drury Lane
additionally, he ain't 
no literati familiar
storied quasi fiction Citizen Kane.
Form: Rhyme

So Many Seduced by Rhythmic Pendulum of Trauma and Absurd Normalcy

Intelligent musical talent begins with this, to relearn the timing within our soul,
But other tactical psychological methods are busy swaying to and fro,
To an obvious yet nefarious covert Rhythmic tyranny of Mind Control,
Damaging trauma appears, disappears and reappears so often - irregardless whether anyone of us - really and actually know,
Although - know; you ought to, and know you must, if we're to avoid their evil demonic end goal, by economic slavery boom and bust, 

Why have the masses flocked to what is essentially an obvious Lie..
The hitherto well understood well known treachery of bribery and trickery..to the ill-informed common eye?

Real answers lie within the Agendas of those, 
With high unseen well hidden authority of tyranny.. now beginning to be exposed,

The blame so far as we can see for this all pervasive idiocy, 
Fits squarely into Ancient Babylonian Occult vile Crypto Supremacy,

An unmentionable taboo for Society, though cleverly socially arranged, 
Covertly hostile toward Humanity and our creative force..
By a certain inferiority complexed minority so deranged..
Ah yes - but of course!
A true Dictatorship and Tyranny
can and always will insist..
Upon those that have become uber-Liberal all accepting pacifists.. 

Those yet behind an otherwise obvious - facade of devious fallacy, don't want you to learn the reasons for the lie, 
The mondane so often belies what is hidden within our words; within a sound, 
The truth disguised as anything unprofound, 

Explanation enough as to the premise of why..

The countless masses are now clearly and sadly being systematically psychologically, reduced to a pitiful state of abhorrent dependency,
We would certainly have to mention and be sure to say, 
Please wake up a friend a colleague or a family member now, or at least today,

It is therefore clear that; 
an in-depth searching root cause analysis, apparently can be, 
Brought about and shared through some insightful poetry..

The written and the spoken word,
Do justice to those that cannot nor would never ever be heard, 
So we might then listen in careful piety,

Or do not then be surprised to now find, that there are..

So Many Seduced by Rhythmic Pendulum of Trauma & Absurd Normalcy..


Kurt Hubbard-Beale
28th February 2023
Form: Ballad

We Are the Victors I'M Back

I’d like too invite all to be my guest
a dine of mindfulness and rhyme digest 
a week of conflict now victory blessed 
standing united to silence a pest

Since the last time you heard from me I was banned again
ran my mouth and pen and stand condemned 
taking a time out as the site suspended
yet always polite to poets I’ve befriended 

In my lifetime of few consistences 
a sucker for trouble 
not designed for resistance 
never stuck in a bubble 
don’t run nor crumble
my back’s up I stand tall
I’m one for the rumble 
not decided but natural

I’m an alpha with a non fictional reaction 
I can’t stray from friction I give it back to ‘em

They flint 
I flame 
retardants 
don’t reign 

Even with intense insistence I’m risky
back and forth witty hits get me frisky
I’m Jack Daniels confrontation’s whiskey 

and as it ascends force 
whistling me wolf
I submit my thoughts 
with all above board 

but as the war gets me bored 
within my core recycled and restored
enemy amo pours out below par
firing missiles I go to far

through lost remorse
this one track horse
gallops the course
with overwhelming force

only to fail care and I fall where I fell before

Standing up squarely 
Cus nobody scares me
then punished unfairly 
cus I ain’t no fairy 

Deemed out of line
as I mouth my mind
blow for blow with swines 
or write down rhymes

I’ve got one finger for sign language 
knowing 5 fold in flight damage 

You’re not the first to run me down
I’m not one to get the boys around 
“I know a lot of people” not my threat 
get me vexed I come direct 

Others rely on their made up crew
not me though mate I come straight for you

One minute you’re coming calling me chump
the next minute running Forest Gump
I’ve never experienced intimidated slumps
the altercation ignition leads me to jump

start the motor ticks, over being a victim
insults thrown deflect don’t sink in
get thrown back with hurt inflicting
stand his ground does Nick Trim

Will call us HMS Victory and him the birds eye on a French deck,
one cannon ball later he’s drenched in a shipwreck 

So thanks to the soupers standing with me,
the victory with us not he,
again I say soupers standing with me
are the ones standing victoriously
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse


Premium Member Diving In

When I am looking at the end of the board, my world shrinks down to that one foot at the end of the board. My hands swing gently back and forth, and back again. My mind tries to focus letting all the noises from outside of it fade into the background. Because when is it truly ever quiet? The noise almost becomes something, calming, and normal, very reassuring.A song runs through my head keeping all the fragile bits of you together. Do the hurdle first. Is all I can think, do the hurdle then the dive. My arms swing forward once again, but this time you take my first step perfectly in time with the rhythm of my movement. I take a second step, covering ground, quickly, but not rushed. And then my third step, a powerful lunge that caries my other foot high as my arms rise to the celling  I put all of my power into the final jump, landing squarely on the end of the board crouching down, letting my arms circle around, then reach towards the heights I wish to achieve and feeling the board spring me into the sky, where I hang suspended in time waiting the one precious second, letting myself reach my full height. Then I throw your arms down with the accumulated power and momentum that have been waiting for this very moment. I touch my toes as they touch the sky, the wind ruffles my already wet hair, and the feeling of flight has never been so close the world flashes past and I dimly realize that the celling has come around again, and it is time to extend. I am in full control as my body straightens and my toes point down to the water once again. This time though I am falling, not flying, yet it does not seem any worse. My arms stay close to my side and my body stays perfectly straight as my first toe touches the water, which then engulfs me. I sink slowly down staying straight, until my feet touch the bottom of the thirteen foot pool and I am once again pushing up towards the light. My head breaks the surface and it seems as if I catch up with time again. Somewhere an announcer is calling out the judges’ scores, but all I can notice in this bewildering moment is the smiles and congratulating high fives of the people I know the best, my team. I did it. I think, allowing a small moment of pride.I mingle and wait, counting the seconds, until I can fly again.
Form: Prose

The Truth Can Hurt

It all comes down to peer pressure when you’re still in your teens.
You want to keep up with the Jones’ and you’ll go to any means
to put yourself into the limelight and be a member of the clique,
so you have to do some daring deed to give your gang a kick.

Because we lived out of the town on some land beside a creek,
we only had tank water so our baths are once a week.
Power hadn’t reached us yet, and our dunny was quite rank,
for we had an outside dunny, not a lavish septic tank.

And on this point peer pressures ugly head was bared.
I got teased about the outside dunny and then I was dared,
to rid it from our social scene to keep in with me peers …
I cannot let the gang down - or I’ll be turfed out on me ears.

Each day I visited the dunny I would sit upon the seat,
and ponder over tactics and what method would complete
the mission of destruction that our dunny will endure,
once I find the perfect moment for one outside dunny fewer.

It was the low and leaden clouds that descended once again,
which triggered ‘it is time’ once we had a week of rain,
for the creek had swollen now and lapped the dunny wall,
so I levered with a crowbar and watched the dunny fall.

Into the creek it’s swept away, tumbling ‘round and ‘round. 
I’m feeling pleased with what I’ve done, but that night I found,
my Father was the least impressed of his guilty eldest son,
for he stood before me in the kitchen - and I’m squarely in the gun.

He said “We’re going to the woodshed Son - that means you and me.”
The woodshed is the torture chamber, where I’ll go across his knee.
I asked me Dad the reason why - he said “What you did isn’t funny.
I know it’s you who pushed into the creek our little outside dunny.” 

I looked at the floor, next up at Dad, and then admitted “Yes I did.
But Dad at school the other day, we learnt about another kid.
George Washington his name was; he was just as bad as me.
He picked up his Fathers axe and chopped down his cherry tree.”

“But because the kid admitted he chopped down the cherry tree,
he did not get into trouble - I told the truth, so why punish me?”
My Father gave a long hard look - “On the point of truth I do agree,
but George Washington's ‘old man’ wasn't in the cherry tree.”
Form: Rhyme

Hooray for Captain Spaulding

Hooray for Captain Spaulding...
though he played only a cameo role
helping me secure corrective eyewear I sport

mucho gratitude to all parties involved
including the missus,
cuz she needed to shuttle me
to and from hither and yon,
wherever I needed to go,
cuz entire bill paid
(including thorough examinations and lenses -
the frames repurposed

from one used many moons ago)
courtesy AETNA Medicare Advantra
in tandem with superb
ocular optometrist Doctor Paul Halpern,
that would be an unpaid for plug
touting outstanding kickass knowhow
insync with his offbeat good humor
without making a spectacle of himself.

Many insightful revolutionary breakthroughs
linkedin to gamut of intelligent people,
whose exhaustive mental,
physical and spiritual efforts
witnessed visually impaired
(shortsightedness affected wordsmith
since he entered second grade
at Eagleville Elementary School
circa approximately mid nineteen sixties)
and anticipated him being called
mildly derogatory name four eyes,
thus withheld donning glasses
at the expense of lackluster marks

for that half year, cuz parents moved
to 324 Level Road
initially R(oute) D(elivery) 
until Donald Neilson
(if memory serves me
more correctly than spelling
of his surname, and "The Idler Wheel
Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw
and Whipping Cords Will Serve You
More Than Ropes Will Ever Do" by Fiona Apple),
and yesterday November 12th, 2024
happily, proudly, and zealously wears glasses
to see the webbed wide world crystal clear.

Post cataract surgery,
about couple months 
after consultation  at Kremer Eye Center
and finally came to figurative juncture
whereat (drum roll please...)
prescription adjusted eyeglasses
now sit squarely on my button nose -
as long as I hold them there with a finger
until cosmetic surgeon affixes a bump
on the bridge of said nose

analogous to the song titled
I can see clearly now the rain is gone
I can see all obstacles in my way
(courtesy Johnny Nash,
who raked in quite a bit of cash)
to drive our 2020 Hyundai Elantra
after dark shadows slink and slither
along the edge of night
encompassing an ever widening berth,
where the outer limits
meld with swathes of the twilight zone.

I Awkwardly, Ineptly, and Submissively Fumbled Thru Life

I awkwardly, ineptly, and submissively fumbled thru life...,
whereat purposefulness rarely gained traction

Fatherhood (half my life time ago)
bolstered reasonable rhyme
manifesting itself before
these myopic bespectacled eyes.

Infancy, babyhood, and Childhood
evidenced, noticed, and witnessed
adequate basic provisions,
and no shortage of food
engendered dynamic cohesion
allowed, enabled, and provided
"mama's boy" imbued,
and attempted to compensate
being socially withdrawn
posting and answering

personal classified advertisements,
(while marital vows
long since pledged),
now in hindsight such risqué
communiqués juvenile and lewd
sense and sensibility
of healthy emotional, mental
and physical natural maturation
social withdrawal did occlude
invariably classmates found
lack of responsiveness rude.

Additionally, yours truly
never field tested
self reliance skill sets,
but rather overstayed his welcome
livingsocial with parents
at 324 Level Road,
whose patience he sorely tested

ofttimes giving rise
since hashtagged as
dad's infamous midnight lectures
heavily referencing expletives
which vituperative ultimatums
extemporaneously delivered courtesy
paternal linkedin progenitor of mine

when the doomsday clock struck twelve
allowing, enabling, providing
standing room only
promising colorful denunciatory epithets
assaulting, cannonading, firing...
exploding character assassination
verbal thermonuclear bombs squarely
lobbed at unemployed sole son,
his/him offspring afflicted then (three
plus decades ago and now)
with debilitating anxiety/
social panic, palmar hyperhidrosis,
body dysmorphia, and 
irritable bowel for starters.

I (a rather meek individual)
stood still as a statue
silently weathering such
blistering, calumniating, excoriating,
fulminating, haranguing brickbats
upon a rather docile doodler with words,
who essentially internalized
torturous barrage vacuous warnings

to shape up or ship out,
which mother and father dearest
doled out their version
of abusive traumatic boot camp
survival mode qualified
as invisible contusions, fractures,
infarctions, lesions, obstructions 
and ruinations upon psyche.

Prince Charming

How could you be so chaste 
leaving me by myself to waste
Letting me rot away inside 
like some hidden away lie
White lies black truths 
Closed mouth
	Ears
Eyes
To the injustice of a life taken away by the string leading to a master
		Puppeteer
A disguiser whose costumes fool the innocent soul 
Only to steal them away before the heart can break completely
Deteriorated inside 
Mind numb and cracking
Fingers pulling at hair trying to feel 
		Trying to hurt
			Any pain is better than nothing
Any pain in better than breaking down 
The resounding hums of your words sink into my ears
Follow through with your talk
Hands strike out and secrets are made
Hid behind a false charade
And the shadows of people stare 
But no one dares to become real for even a moment to intervene
Not their place to get between 
The master and his slave
Sold by self to the highest bidder
Promises of happily ever after shattered by the reality of love
Contorted and twisted
This can’t be real love 
But it’s the only love I’ve ever known 
So I accept my fate and submit to the side effects of a choice
A path not well chosen 
Guilt lay squarely on my own shoulders
Crumbling under the pressure of stares and words
Marks I can hide but as I die slowly from the inside I wonder if 
Hiding is really worth the effort
Energy put into a smile
Acting as if my heart is still within me 
Rather than attached to my beloved 
As he walks away without looking back
I fall to my knees and plead, hoping for even a sign of regret
I know he isn’t a knight in shining armor 
But he is my savior from myself, my prince charming 
All decked out in hellfire 
Leaving bruises where his caress leads, leaving cuts upon his anger
Unsure of where I stand any given moment 
I know this isn’t a life I always dreamed
No tale Disney worthy
but when it’s what you need to feel wanted
the want wants and leaves you wanting more 
more touch 
more heat
more fire
more feeling
even if it’s pain
because the pain is only out of love
whispers flitter past but I am deaf and he is disappearing slowly out of my vision
disapating from my mind
as surely as he came 
picking up the broken doll I was
he left 
leaving behind the broken pieces even more tarnished

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