Long Squares Poems
Long Squares Poems. Below are the most popular long Squares by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Squares poems by poem length and keyword.
"mathew" 6: 12-13
“and forgive us our debts”
(not only does a sheep get 3 squares a day,
but it is also believed that if one begs the
sky enough, one’s problems will just
wash away---this is to be the subsequent
consequence of ALL humans following
suit & getting down on four legs, growing
their thick coats & chewing grass)
“as we forgive our debtors”
(as the sheep thinking that their problems
are solved by an imaginary listener in
an imaginary trailer park in the sky,
so do the sheep continue grazing with a
sort of “live and let live” mentality,
until they are picked off by hunters)
“and do not lead us into temptation”
(so, the same imaginary listener who resides
in that imaginary trailer park, who seemed
to be the one that all the sheep were
comfortably baaaaa-ing to, now is
something to be feared as well? perhaps
that which one feels the need to submit
the whole of their will to is the same
corrupted core inside that would come up
with such a ridiculous hoax to begin with,
as found in the schizophrenic comment
here in the command to oneself (a baaaaa
into the mirror, if you will)
“but deliver us from the evil one”
(the EVIL ONE? is not the concept of
evil just that which goes against the
simultaneous baaaaa of the herd in the
grassy field? was not the GOOD ONE
just told in the last line to “not lead us
into temptation,” thereby being the only
“one” which can do so? make sure when
getting the ladle of kool-aid dumped into
your dixie cup, that you ask if said
dumper is EVIL or GOOD…certainly at
that point it will make all the difference in
the world)
“for yours is the kingdom and the power
and the glory forever”
(there is no other imaginary listener, whose
two-faced multiple personalities, residing in
an imaginary trailer park in the sky, handing
out its ladles of kool-aid, whose overwhelming
passion could be heard any louder than that
which dwells within the very heads of the
already brainwashed sheep baaaaa-ing out
the rest of their days, dissatisfied with the
actual physical world around them &
waiting for the end of what they deem as
a great big thorn in their side---that is,
the rest of us who are not convinced, and
who are not baaaaa-ing with the rest of
em’)
“amen”
(right there, in a nutshell, the whole lie
itself was conjured up by “a man,” or
a few men---all who had way too much
time on their hands & a rather limited
imagination).
Yesterday I dreamed a dream,
that had no end.
You in your white gown, and long, black hair flowing.
You were calling my name.
I heard you, but I couldn't reach you!
And when I say your soul was tainted.
You went out in the night life.
You dressed in your black, evening ball gown.
You danced till the Red Sun came out, over the horizon.
You smiled at me.
A flame in my heart burned red hot!
My knees and hands shook with nerves;
Nerves of love and joy.
I blew you a kiss,
but you turned away!
Oh, please don't turn away from me,
for I would die, if it happened again!
Your beautiful and golden heart showed me the truth.
The truth that every gentleman wants to hear.
I've seen you walk the streets,
in the blue dawn of August.
As I followed you, you stopped and looked at me.
You smiled so beautifully, and my heart fluttered into oblivion!
You walked with your friends and I went my way.
I couldn't find a single trace of you that day.
I cried out "Why did I leave her like this?!"
I looked for you, all over the courtyards and town squares!
Yet no sight of your beauty.
... No sight of your golden heart, that I hold so dear to mine.
Where did you go?
Why did you leave?
Why did I leave... that is the question!
I should have stayed by your side,
till the ends of time.
Yet I had left.
Why...?
One gloomy and parish midnight.
I came along a road,
and soon found myself in front of a wayward cafe.
Smiling faces all around me.
I spotted a beautiful face that outstood all the other faces around me.
It was yours.
Your face brought me to sanity and I went over too you!
You spotted me and tried to run!
I caught you in the dirty hallway and pulled you in.
Our eyes met and I fell in love once again.
Sanity re-entered my mind, body and soul.
I kissed you and you kissed back.
You held my hand, and we left the cafe and walked down the street.
The street was gloomy, yet we together brightened the dark street.
We went back to the lit up city streets, of the lands filled with smiling faces,
and we fell in love and slept together.
You lay there in my restless arms and I gave you a sweet kiss,
upon your sweet and soft head.
Your dark hair was sweet smelling and felt of silk.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep with you,
there in my arms and we dreamed together
till the morning came and woke me up,
and took you away from my weak and weary arms.
I dreamed a dream of you.
Once, this world created in me,
A box of a mind.
With dark corners
And scary rooms with unopened doors,
Never talked about, Never answered,
But always, always thought about,
Always, always questioned.
Days and nights spun so fast, it seemed.
Weary me, in that box,
Always ran,
Callousness pushing me from behind.
Then, one day, I stopped running,
The world still pushed, but I slipped away.
The burden of unanswered doubts,
Seemed too heavy,
Over my perfectly drawn square shoulders.
I let go.
The squares, I bent,
Into circles and spheres and myriad magical shapes.
The windows smelt damp, creaked loud and ghastly,
The doors stuck hard to the walls.
The Walls I saw tall and high,
Had paintings I never noticed till then.
They had the hues and lines,
Of broken dreams, and unfelt love,
Incomplete poems and unwritten stories,
Dull and lifeless, yet they stared,
Sharp and staunch at my guilty eyes.
And memories twirled like hurricanes,
Twisted my body and soul,
Took me to shores I lived for long,
Yet haven't known them ever well.
Stinking with guilt, I realised,
Those moments of machinery monotony,
I forced myself over and again through,
To stay a part of this vicious crowd.
Not any more, I decided,
I was not ready to give up.
The starved me, could no longer hold,
And pushed the creaky windows open,
And as The shine glided into my room,
I saw, for once, the glow I missed everyday.
The art that scared me then,
Now began melting, into rainbow colours.
The deafening noise now vanished,
Into the the sound of rain dances.
How meek I felt, I forgot for a moment,
Thrusting the hard doors out,
I stood there, drenched,
Lost in the pouring love.
As I looked back, I saw,
The box I was in, crashing down,
Into a thousand pieces.
The fury of the rushing waters,
Seeping through the dreary corners,
That held all my pain and fear and guilt.
The windows and doors forgotten,
The scary strokes faded,
And all that came out,
Was the magic of The Rainbow Shine.
And so My Friend, please don't wait, like me,
Long times lost, timid in the box.
For the windows and doors are windows and doors,
And not the rails of a locked cellar.
And before the walls drew demons for you,
Break free,
Soak in love,
The kind that seeks the real You.
Form:
In the thicket forgotten of deeply anchored thoughts,
Where ideas nest, across time and tailored spaces,
There I stand, guardian of the undimmed realm, the archivist of the flame
That knows not extinguishing in the beating winds of history,
Guarding the pure light that does not fracture from darkness.
Shadow does not frighten me, in the tumultuous whirl of the ephemeral moment,
The virility of my pen is the bastion safe from political venom,
In my fortress of books, ideas, and eternally glimpsed dreams,
A candle of knowledge, a lighthouse piercing the fog of despair,
And my intellect, a fleet that can quench the thirst of the abyss.
I am the knight battling the windmills of forgetfulness and ignorance,
At war with the shadows that attempt to speak of present suppression,
A country does not parade its grandeur in the fleeting plays of political stages,
But in the echo it leaves through a waltz of creative genius in the world's libraries,
Through art, science, and the poetry whispered by blossoming briar circles.
A nation does not stretch into the arms of death when it is defeated,
Nor embraces the poison when lords change or thrones waver,
But on the wings of those who walked through the subtle circles of thought,
They leave an endless imprint of the dream in the springs of eternity,
Weaving its chronicles, over centuries and wisdom its people grow.
And I, amongst waves of misunderstanding and barriers of indifference,
Submerged in creations that speak in languages only the stars comprehend,
I traverse the fine line between present and dreaming eternity,
I build from words a wall that no terrestrial battle can crumble.
I watch how politics spins like an old mill in the fickle wind,
But I keep my distance, with my quill dipped in eternal ink,
Agony and ecstasy, in a wondrous dance of knowledge,
Never forgetting that the sunrise from my mind is the rebirth of the world.
Beneath my intellectual hoard, with its invincible nature,
I warm centuries, illuminate unfoldings, and cultivate hope,
For, regardless of the whirlwind that beats at my gate,
I am master of my counsel and the dream I embrace.
Politics may haunt the streets and squares,
But the eternal plays in the laboratories of my tranquil mind,
Where I, the architect of this human sanctuary, undefeated,
Weaving eternity with my intellect, remain.
A Rondo In 23 Verses
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my soul and my movements
It has ruined my life for sure.
I hate masks but I wear them.
Fogging my view with each breath
They blind me to dangers in traffic
Forecasting my vehicular death.
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my soul and my movements
It has ruined my walking for sure.
A haircut or facial nice to conjure.
I look like a portrait of doom.
My grey roots protrude and grow longer
The mirror reflects all of my gloom
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my being and my movements
It has ruined my beauty for sure.
And Zoom every day, I hate it.
Playing Hollywood Squares with the mob.
At least I can work here pantless.
Until I find a new job.
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my soul and my movements
It has ruined my career for sure.
At gym I used to sweat bullets.
Admiring the bodies around.
But now its reduced to a laptop.
And some formless voice counting down.
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my being and my movements
It has ruined my physique for sure.
Homeschooling my children is stressful.
They hate every thing that I do
They look upon me as a jailor
A bossy mal tempered old shrew.
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my being and my movements
It has ruined my family for sure. .
And why can't we use our own dog walkers
Metabolically relieving the hound.
The city has forbidden this action.
Another way needs to be found.
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my being and my movements
It has ruined my pet’s life for sure.
And please don’t repeat this around
I have a lover every Wednesday afternoon.
Since they're not strictly in my bubble,
We can’t, you know what, in a room.
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my being and my movements
It has ruined sex life for sure.
Look, I know that millions are dying
I’m not insensitive to that.
But my lifestyle has taken a beating
You can’t call me a brat for that.
COVID is very inconvenient.
Difficult to endure.
It controls my being and movements
It has ruined life for sure.
Dawn Forever Rising
It starts
Street lights fade
their tiny soft-winged tenants flee
checkerboard facades change
last night's illumined squares now dark
become but yesterday's portals
some polished
some weather streaked
all reaching to reflect first breath
Steam ascends from the city's vacuum
gratings rattle with subterranean yawning
people-movers wind their way
through mazes of starts
stops
Topside tracks
like fixed contrails
glisten with frost
not yet enjoined by speeding transit
their skeletal tributaries
readying the trickle of humanity
into a mass ocean of glass and steel survival
Uptown
Downtown
A street sweeper's tire rubber and swirling brushes
beneath the overalled believer in Lottos
holding firm the wheel and gears of faith
of trust
gathering gutter-lodged disposal
glass and plastic
paper and cardboard
spinning into the vortex
lifting yesterday's careless cast-offs
inviting today's Starbuck anew
reflections of another kind
Leashes strain from anxious sniffing
bladders hold
ready to burst
seeking just the right tree
the right hydrant
the "ah, yes" that only a canine can know
Rays of sun begin spilling down alleyways
the long-tail rodents scamper for cover
their bellies full
seeking safety after a long night of ancient ritual
food of anything
digestion of history
all in a night's work
Suddenly
Full light cascades down avenues and streets
itinerant pigeons and seagulls spread habitual wings
ready to adore the steadies
the loners
park walkers
window ledge dependables
homeless with dance cards of crumbs
envying the moneyed insomniacs throwing chunks
baguettes gone stale
fit for few
a feast for many
senses loving the coos and warbles
the bobbing thank you
the reciprocal bonding
few but the lonely can appreciate
Finally
The steel and glass imitation of nature
comes fully alive
a sun's illumination without reserve
energy's provision for another day
Rich mix with the poor
money exchanges hands
the hotdog vendor
the hedge fund taker
the cookie jar provider
Most become tomorrow's yesterday
knowing little of the other light
requiring no rising or setting
illumination that never grows dim
something as nothing
forever light
never of darkness
Such for some
awakens from a New York sunrise
this dichotomy like no other
forever reminding
our eyes of dawn
one's inner light
is forever rising
Moving through the pulse and the flow
A timetable of fixed dilation
A given
And measured
Ellipse
To the people it trips
As they ride the crest
Of the waves
Of emotions
Just prisoners of
Perpetual motion
Never ceasing
Never pretending to be
Anything more
Born into the days
Of a future long past
Spying its records
From the start to the last
We are all
Just second hand news
In a land of ne’re to be
Nonsensical devotion
The prisoners of perpetual motion
Elate
And repress
The We
The US three
The Me
Myself
and I
Come to share in a life such as these
Checking out the view
I’m just second hand news
In the land of Ne’re do we
Strolling on by and
Pressing on through
Tasked with its provisions
And it’s riddled revisions
Nonsense and fiction
Have found their new diction
Of solar progression
As they encapsulate
The US Three
Strolling on by
Pressing ahead
The RIGHT
And the TRUE
It’s textured and layered deception
Held a managed intervention
Holding within its folio
The signatures of digression
Devoid of emotion
As it’s pendulum swings to and fro
Never able to leave
Or break its grasp
Transcending all in its path
Nonsense and fiction
Wear a guise of suspicion
Take on a new face
A perplexing division
With its sweeping broad strokes
To embrace and replace the US Three
Brushing on past
Just a page before
You knocked on the door
Of the garden where flowers once grew
These steps you’ve taken
Left to the tender mercies
Of fiscal conservancy’s
Hyperbolic uncertainty
Common knowledge
Given breathe
As stolen
A thief
Of the Inspector in chief
His notes plainly written
A solider in part
Has taken my enemies heart
In a fruitless pursuit
Of passion and pain
Here
I remain
In its orbital dance
The great mechanic has cast
His players
The WE
The US Three
Cry the home
On this ellipse
As we roam
The WE
The US Three
The black crow
Watches unfaltering
With his stalwart gaze
As your counterfeit lies
Sought in other men’s eyes
With a forbodance
Which can not be denied
In the wink of an eye
Like the pearls on a string
That glow
And
That shine
As it squares with the facts
In the drivers seat of circumstance
And at length in perpetuity
YOU hold the charter to men’s hearts.
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
What are these objects in your frames?
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
Why must they gotta be the same?
Cars and busses, traffic lights
Bicycles and motor bikes
Crosswalks, signs, and steps and stairs
Fire hydrants everywhere
Boats, planes and parking meters
Tickets, fines, misdemeanors
Why are you so fond of these?
Why are palms the only trees?
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
The pictures trapped inside of there
Oh captcha squares, oh captcha squares
Depict a world so bleak and bare
Arid, bland, unaesthetic
Barren, drab, unpoetic
Sterile, cold, antiseptic
Unconcerned, apathetic
Somber, sad, and desolate
Woeful, bland, pedestrian
Weary, grim, dreary, hopeless
Grainy, gray, out of focus
It doesn’t need to be this way…
Many things could fill your squares
Why not fill these things in there?
Tambourines and castanets
Bass trombones and clarinets
English horns and piccolos
Harpsichords and xylophones
Fiddles high and Irish whistles
Jingle bells and finger cymbals
5-string banjos, mandolins
Saxophones, accordions
Desmond Tutu and Mandela
Cassius Clay, Cinderella
Charlemagne and Genghis Kahn
George and Ringo, Paul, and John
Twain and Edgar Allan Poe
Wayne and Brando and Monroe
Ida Wells, Frida Kahlo
Steinem, Parks, and Ferraro
River Thames and stormy seas
Winter wrens and bumble bees
Cyprus, ash, oak, fir, and pine
Sassafras, willow, and lime
Daffodils and magnolias
Marigolds and begonias
Cabbage, beets, and potatoes
Carrots, beans, and tomatoes
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
If your pictures must remain
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
How aboutcha change the frames?
Captcha circles, captcha suns
All the captcha olygons
Wiggly captcha twiggly lines
Twisty captcha twiny vines
Captcha diamonds, captcha hearts
Captcha clovers, moons, and stars
Captcha ribbons, Captcha lace
Captcha colored string bouquets
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
We understand you're here to stay.
Oh Captcha Squares, Oh Captcha Squares
Just be more creative, OK?
Mary Fletcher was prime minister in olde England, like fondest memory,
Of days when the twilight stood still, with silver moon, floating on sea.
Mary Fletcher was capable and caring, to the country's great benefit;
Like spring rains of green benevolence, trailing the fragrant evidence.
Andrew was Mary's loving husband. Their lives were so happy together!
Like allurng, violet future, that recalls moments in lush, green heather.
Scarlet summer was all in a fever, as faceted friends called, flustered;
Passing fields of fabled enchantment, where silky, lilac wind muttered.
Faces of family came in dreams, and in person, on the Fridays of fairs;
Full of food, games and fun activities, like colored, hopscotch squares.
Mary lived in the house of butterflies, forever peeking at the windows;
Offering the frequent flashes of color, like every shade of the primrose.
Saturdays wore its smiles, on Mary's street of pretty robins screeching;
Where blue dragonflies were dancing, and chirpy crickets had meetings.
Owls stared wide-eyed fascination, as neighbors came, one with night;
In the company of nostalgic, new moon, like velvet under the spotlight.
'Mangave mission to Mars' lifted off, when the 'corpse flowers' lay dying;
And 'grow anywhere' trees sprang hither and yon, without halfway trying.
During storms of 'dahlias electric flash,' or dark nights of 'showy lanterns,'
'Rose feather' blooms took the spotlight, while secrets hid in blue caverns.
As Andrew was crossing a bridge one sunny day, a large chunk of it fell,
Breaking the car's blue windshield! How he escaped harm, none can tell.
Andrew sent Mary an emergency message, apprising her of grave danger;
And she notified the right departments, within moments. Anxiety changer!
The bridge was capably repaired, due to the action of Andrew's first lady;
Like midnight of mimosa fragrance, giving raptures to areas grown shady!
'London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down, falling down,
London Bridge is falling down,
My fair lady.
Build It Up With Bricks of Shaw,
Bricks So Sure,
Bricks So Sure,
Build It Up With Bricks of Shaw,
My Fair Lady.
It Will Stand For Ever More,
Ever More,
Ever More,
It Will Stand For Ever More,
My Fair Lady.'
uniting farcical flocks all over the world,
gregarious garments, talismans &
little good luck charms required by religions
to ward off “evil spirits,” to separate man
from “god,” or to just protect the fuzzy sheep
from the rest of us heathens,
are donned by believers everywhere
(but kept oh so secret).
the infamous magical mormon underwear
whose mere mention offends the mormons
strike the nonbeliever as an extra special case
as one may envision horny hocus-pocus
surrounding the ceremonies held within the guise of a
uniquely ludicrous worship of fiction---
the lds correct one quickly, saying that these “temple garments”
are sacred & that is why they are secret,
once bearing stitched “L’s & V’s,” thought at best to be
squares & compasses,
evidence of founder joseph smith’s own signing up with the
big boys, the freemasons, whilst trying to get some buddies
who had power.
while christians, buddhists, sikhs, muslims, jews, jains,
taoists, zoroastrians & for that matter, numerous other local
& tribal religions, all seem to put some stock in “peace malas”
---little 16 beaded bracelets representing a rainbow to
take on our “spiritual paths,” jews specifically have worn
the “roite bindele”---a red wool string that is worn around the
wrist of the left hand, thought by kabbalahbabblers to ward off evil, especially
that ever so evil “evil eye,” that so many in the 21st century
are still afraid of.
scientologists, always out to out-ridiculous the competition,
whose elite army known as the “sea organization,” marches
round Gold Base in cali, parading now on land in the poor rip-off
attire based on US navy uniforms, as they did when they were
peddling their own brand of bosh mumbo jumbo in La Boheme,
prior to its shut down in 2008 for asbestos (awe boo hoo, guess
we’ll have to nurture our “thetans” & try to get in better touch with
the “supreme being” elsewhere).
what asinine apparel exemplifies in the superstitious
is not only the need to escape the tribulations of everyday life
which weighs upon us all, but more so, to advertise a chosen
dogmatic & downright daffy way to live, which strengthens
those within the flock, but which is meant to reel new fish in,
so as to perpetuate this idiocy in an age when the species needs
LESS, not more of it.