Long Straightaway Poems
Long Straightaway Poems. Below are the most popular long Straightaway by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Straightaway poems by poem length and keyword.
Blasphemy…cloud over their hearts of gold
Their value gradually diminishes…their weapons turn to mold
Serenity…deserted them and neglected them like orphans
Their joy rapidly wears out…they mislaid their abundant portions
They yearn,
“RESTORE the walls of Jericho!”
Anguish…shadows over their dwelling, sacred place
Their weaknesses manipulate them – they’re the definition of disgrace
Danger…defeats them and tarnished them as if they were worthless
Their prosperity shattered straightaway! REBUILD our merriness!
They plead and pray,
“Dona nobis pacem…”
Hear our hesitation and supplication…we’re beneath the bricks and remains
We’re buried alive literally! We’re becoming one with the ground
Fear and despair erases our soothing dreams…we’re getting washed away in the drains
We’re searching for shelter…we’re getting hunted down – we’re barely surviving
They churn…
They coil…
They drift away…
They spoil…
In their miseries…
Does He hear their pleas?
“SAVE ME!”
“Bestow blessings upon us!”
Are you ignoring us deliberately?
“Give us a helping hand
And lead us to the promise land!”
Misfortune unravels in this city of bafflement
Their strengths repaired our souls…we’re the definition of bravery!
Desolation and disbelief demolishes the walls of Jericho…
Does anyone sense their resentment?
Their charity transformed to greed suddenly –
Their lack of optimism and gratitude
Buried them down in captivity
How can you bear their poverty?
How can He save them from destruction and pity?
They whisper on His Holy Hill,
“Dona…Nobis…Pacem…”
Don’t let the battle overthrow ’em!
Ever since I experienced being significantly monetarily sidelined...
(how about that topic for a change of pace?)
Yes back to getting walloped, decked
and clubbed courtesy cold hearted brute,
who casually, glad handedly, and royally
flushed out mine tailored pricey suit
wherein every pocket
once stashed, and lined with loot.
Ever since scamming imbroglio
(three weeks ago today -
July eleventh two thousand twenty three)
yours truly, a formerly
happy go lucky wordsmith
immune to the plethora
of devious shenanigans
courtesy predacious traitors
to the bywords of honesty and integrity
scamper away with laundered money.
Mine fantasy modus operandi to cope
regarding falling prey
to hoax gullible guy
to surrender crisp greenbacks
entrapment like a dope
no matter poet of Penn Valley
at the end of his figurative rope,
when fraudsters shill and scope
out crosshairs stunning
persons exhibiting naïveté
the following escapist ploy adopted.
E'er since I (a reincarnated cavalier
or gentleman snubbed
by sought after Southern Belle)
at night suicidal ideations
visit psyche as haunting spectre
sublimated death wish
permeates thru mine every cell
courting the grim reaper
to carry me back to carry
me back to Old Virginny,
where lovely bones
of me Confederate ancestors dwell
upon bloody fields farewell
to arms and legs
mounted battlefields when groundswell
of internecine warfare
made life on earth
wind and fire created a living hell
he who fleeced me
vengeance doth impel
to imagine him gunned down
as enemy numero uno.
Moribund courtesy online heist
me entire being feels
chopped, minced, and appallingly diced,
hence no surprise
sheepishly admitting to ewe
how yours truly still feels blue
aghast at passivity prevailed
how grievousness flourishes
checking and savings accounts
frankly zapped analogous
how David regarding Goliath he slew,
yet impossible mission
to know your enemy
with absolute zero details,
cuz the fly by night scamp
flat out sold pack of lies
of course I voluntarily
must admit straightaway and true
mine fingers converted cash
to bitcoin currency
yet entranced, kickstarted, seduced
as Harvey Specter
did courtesy sotto voce woo.
Arti.fictional iD
" identify "
it's a part that tickles
on the inside
" nine "
materials merging
to form one mind
a dangerous game
well worth the ride
a serpent
bares her eyes...
chaotic straightaway
wings without a butterfly
and the matter... is choice
dark formations
in a singular voice
sights to be seen
and the vanishing
happens
where last you've been
" realities "
revolve to solve
" a paradox "
an elusive equation
leads manifestation
and a possible collision
in degrees of separation
" nothing is mad "
if a matter of inclusion
"...the Core Matters..." are at hand
1 Corinthians 13 on
Love
1If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a ringing gong or a clanging cymbal. 2If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have absolute faith so as to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3If I give all I possess to the poor and exult in the surrender of my body,a but have not love, I gain nothing.
4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no account of wrongs. 6Love takes no pleasure in evil, but rejoices in the truth. 7It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
8Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be restrained; where there is knowledge, it will be dismissed. 9For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10but when the perfect comes, the partial passes away.
11When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I set aside childish ways. 12Now we see but a dim reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
13And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of these is love.
Hebrews 13:1
13 Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters.
Upon a sullied sodden sky
of alabaster and ash,
fantasy's formidable flotilla floats
as charcoal-colored clouds.
And on this mild, melancholy
mid-March day,
they dawdle; dribbling drops of rain
in sporadic Spring showers.
And Winter's whitewashed wonderland;
sparingly salted with brown brindled blotches,
magically melts away;
revealing rough, ragged patches
of grassy green.
When Winter's weakened grip gives way;
bulbs freed from frosty tombs,
are awakened by the tap, tap, tap,
of April's tepid tears.
And straightaway, snowdrops start sprouting
simultaneously, sending shoots skyward.
Color counters the thickness of this dark, dull day.
And a Robin redbreast abruptly appears;
defying drizzling drops of grey,
with its crimson chest, ornately on display.
Hark, Hallow Dark my dear pal, Titans Mars
rally Martian stars, tag team game Play--Card
Black, Naturals -- rare place reason, Blackguard
quandary, battlescarred, halt? Pass? Have cigars?
Smart-aleck, hmm! facial--compact, boxcars,
ugh! gawdawful. Beauty Triathalon,
He'll be back straightaway, mayhaps papers?
Your facial pasted atop Front page! Bazaars
trains, sidecars, racecars, famous! Alas, Shawn,
lad go faraway places, imagine!
Wanted to ... look balanced, thats it, smart-like
Cameras I take it! Fair and Square, dawn
speaking of that man, time has no passion
I want you meet mama, familylike
As I was going to Saint Ives,
I met a man with a serious case of hives!
He asked me to scratch his back and I said, "No Way!"
I quickly doffed my hat and left there straightaway!
Jack and Jill rushed up the hill to fetch a pail of beer,
To quench the insatiable thirst of their papa dear.
Jack fell down and Jill tumbled down too,
Depriving papa of his bucket of brew!
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
Alas, Humpty Dumpty took a fatal fall!
There was nothing left but a pile of dregs,
Consisting of cracked shells and scrambled eggs!
Mistress Mary quite contrary,
How does your garden grow, dear Mary?
If you'd weed it and spread some manure,
Perhaps it would grow better, that's for sure!
Hey diddle, diddle!
I saw a cat playing a fiddle,
And another tooting a bassoon!
Then, a cow jumped over the moon!!
No more booze for me at the local saloon!
It played tricks on me and I won't go back soon!
Jack, you'd better be nimble and very quick,
As you take a leap over that candlestick!
Jump high so as not to singe your fanny!
(And why you'd do that is rather uncanny!)
I wait crossly
To get picked up straightaway
I wait optimistically
To step into the murky bowels of my car
I can’t advance…
When you’re dragging me to your feet
I can’t progress…
When you’re motivating me to be incomplete
I wait at ease
To get a ride home
I wait with heaps of crotchetiness
To jam myself into the jumbled car
I can’t drive on…
When you’re creating traffic in my dreams
I can’t carry on as fast
When you’re taking your time on the freeway,
Though your obedience beams
You’re jamming my dreams, sweet dream catcher
You’re liveliness gleams…It’s not what it seems... (2)
It’s certainly not what it seems…
Blame it on my dreams!
You’re just a dream come true…
It’s nothing that popped out of the blue…
It’s not that surprising
If you only knew…
Oh, you don’t have a clue…
This infatuation is positively true!
I can’t move on…I can’t drive on… (2)
I can’t ride on the road to victory…
I can’t burst forth by dashing proudly
Until you hit the brakes and cease from
Jamming my exotic dreams
I can’t travel on… I can’t light up the sky…
I can’t dream on and on and on
I can’t drift on and on
I can’t…I can’t move on
I can’t… I can’t!
Until you inspire me to gleam!
(the whispers grow soundless)
I can’t drive on…
I can’t drive on…
I can’t drive on…
I can't...I can't...
I just can't,
Dear friend...
*silence*
August 28th 1968*
Written: by Tom Wright
3/20/2014
Without joy I faced a mountainous rise,
A pale rider had entry into my day.
Sitting astride, the specter of my demise,
No longer, my concerns, could I allay.
But from uplifted prayer, an answer,
Descended not as an eminent surprise;
I was jolted by news that it was cancer
By the Holy Spirit, God did baptize.
Straightaway from that earlier mount,
Came sudden alterations to my life.
The pale rider was dropped for the count,
God’s unseen hand controlled the knife.
*The day that I committed my life to Jesus
Had Cancer at age 28
Alive today at 75
Praise God
Ah what fair moan
laden fantasy lassitude looms
large if this
chaste ole buoy got cornered
into an alleyway
by a bevy of beefy
buxom babes dead set
on hounding this
doggone codger anyway
shape or form eying
sole asylum madly
sprinting thru a narrow
cookie cutter archway
overlooking a multilane beltway
risky business risking
life and limb leaping
the immense height to
make a breakaway
inevitably configuring myself
into unrecognizable
Rorschach Test, when
ganged up by goo goo dolls
suddenly become permanently faraway
unless of course some fluke,
disguised a big yellow bird
rescues yours truly talons linkedin
to flesh pot, a gateway
timed perfectly with
what I surmised
as doomed getaway,
though while dangling aloft
(imagining myself sanity clause)
minus the reindeer sleigh trademark
accouterment and nary a giveaway,
but no idea when...
aerial salvation halfway
to destination thinking,
perchance mebbe adventure
will comprise entering
a wormhole hatchway,
an out of this world experience,
and without doubt
the most remote hideaway,
a thought raced thru my mind
this captive within
hinterlands of space/time
could be heading
along the highway
to hell, no matter where pathway
takes this beastie boy
even if fate somehow
finds me in Rockaway
or possibly alternate
universe of said placename
nothing infuses Earthling
with greater excitement
than feeling like a
truant proud runaway
entranced by the infinite skyway
analogous to ascending stairway
to heaven, only for
this celestial stowaway
that does land him
smack dab straightaway
into a parallel dimension wafting
my buttonose with decor of dames
intent to commence
cupid ditty underway
coon scent of woman actually
ache'n since commencement
of this "FAKE" quasi poem.
They dwell in the peripheral
a place I truly dread
Not sure exactly what they are
I think that they are dead
They stalk the corner shadows
in the day or black of night
I sense their movements vaguely
always dashing out of sight
They themselves are darkness
having neither form nor face
When trying for a clearer look
they're gone without a trace
I used to think perhaps my eyes
were playing tricks on me
until that night while in my bed
they tapped me on my knee
When something laid down next to me
I felt the mattress sink
I threw the lights on straightaway
and poured myself a drink
I glimpse them in the darkened
halls and doorways here throughout
Sometimes I hear their mutterings
as they all roam about
There have been times when I can swear
they're right next to my ear
with breathing or faint whisperings
and I'm awash with fear
They dwell in the peripheral
that place I truly dread
I pray that I'm just crazy
and they're only in my head
2/22/19