Long Stripes Poems

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


What They Didn'T Tell Her About Fairy Tales

They told me from the time I was two
“One day prince charming is coming for you!”

They made me read these inspiring fairy tales
About mermaids, evil step mothers and 
servants whose childhoods were unfair,

They told me that even if I was troubled and had to put up with a lot,
That someday my adversaries would have to surrender
to me and scrub my pots,

They told me I wasn’t alone; animals would be my friend
So I tried that, then one night they bit me, 
I suffered another tragic end

They said to always be kind-hearted that’s what all man want,
When I got into high school I found out no one wanted to talk to the fat girl in the corner who ate chocolate glazed croissants 

They told me to find seven dwarfs, a crew of little people
My school only had four of them 
Their names were; scuba, geek freak, muffin top and meatball

In eleventh grade they said, "ask God for a fairy godmother to get a dress for the prom"
I went to a Catholic Church, got one for 75 cents, 
with red stripes and one missing arm

They said after graduation the wise thing to do would be to go to college 
and Not rush into getting married
So I got knocked up my senior year by the school janitor,
His name is "Prince Larry!"

I dropped out a month before school ended and you’ll never guess where I reside
I am currently employed doing Disney parties, where I get to dress up as all the great characters who told me those fabulous lies.
 
Got to Love fairy tales…

By: Sabina Nicole
1-24-13
Form: Couplet


Premium Member unfocused

Our land of stars and stripes, now glows,
with screens that flicker in hallowed halls.
Entranced humans shuffle, with eyes fixed below,
on small gadgets that have us enthralled.

Should the Statue of Liberty, our symbolic girl,
be holding a smartphone up to the world?
While tweets fly like eagles and hashtags swirl,
foreign disinformation trends as fast as it’s purled.

In lunch halls, real conversations take rest,
as influence is sought—in hoity-toity, binary quest.
Friends are backdrops—originality in short supply
as likes and shares make our dopamine fly.

America’s zombies, though *********** drained,
shuffle endlessly on, with Wi-Fi stimulated brains.
Once the land of the free, we’re now the land of tech
with minds wrecked by truths unchecked.

As we rock and sway—the new robot way—
will our old, analog-republic simply fade away?
.
.
Songs for this:
Airhead by Thomas Dolby
.
Oh, and a Christmas playlist because—it’s December:
daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_01.mp3
Form: Rhyme

OF BEAUTIFUL PLACES

In the heart of the golden noon, with skies in blue hues and a gentle golden sun, illuminating the greenery beneath

Tall shadows cast the fertile earth from the majestic trees that stand proud in the distance
Winds gently caressing the leaves as they wave in a rythmic trance  

Zebras, dressed in black and white stripes, yet a colourful picture they paint
Grazing in unison, from the haven of their natural habitat, a delicacy that nature giveth

Blending in Seamlessly is the "Eve" of the garden
Completing the frame of the scenic scene that is a marvel to marvel at

Sunkissed, radiating an aura of elegance 
The nature in the background complimenting the wonder of nature before it

In the bosom of mother earth, in the land of flames 
Stories are aflame, of beautiful places and angels.

Premium Member Nelumbo Nucifera

he was sick of the racing stripes on his automobiles

a modern-day Buddha in his garage full of himself

and vintage cars of classical acclaim and chrome

had become nauseous at the mere site of his Lotus

decided to live like the monk who sold his Ferrari


ascetic instead he would attempt to move mountains

traded his bicycle for begging bowl and orange robe

roamed the streets like a vagrant off his or her trolley

eventually sold his puncture kit for a can full of petrol

and considered his enlightenment by self-immolation


the service station attendant had other plans however

a beautiful woman with olive tanned skin and a bindi

‘you don’t have to emulate Siddhartha to find the path of

the third way between all or nothing greed and starvation’

she whispered and gave him a lotus flower from her heart
 


29th December 2020

Nelumbo nucifera is the botanical name of the lotus

Premium Member The Zebra and the Roses

The artist returns
With another paint
Colours so edible
With chocolate taints
 
My darling blond
And her canvas of flesh
A picture so tasty
Picturesque
 
I lie her down
As i start my craft
Her skin of delight
In my mind i draft
 
Firstly the brown
In chocolate stripes
Then greening leaves
All fresh and ripe
 
Now for the roses
Pink, yellow and red
In edible icing 
Curled to be fed
 
Her golden mane
With chocolate flow
As it cascades her body
Sharing her naked glow
 
My crafting is done
Her delight in pose
My canvas of her
The zebra and the roses



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy.php
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member His Background

This enlisted soul
At eighteen years old
Barely a man
Not even street wise told

From the proms, to the camp
He kits out tomorrow
His future he stamps
Never knowing bloodied sorrow

In just under a year
He's older and wiser
To a theatre so different
Says his military adviser

Overseas he heads
Thoughts of back home
What goes through his mind
In eighteen years old roam

Where could he have been
In so short a time
Colouring books
Making joining words rhyme

As he looks to his background
What does he see
An eagle soaring
In the land of the free

The statue of liberty
And the bill of rights
With the thirteen stripes
And the stars to delight

He is just a boy
In grown up clothes
Another one lost
To a cause we will loathe




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-4.php
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Porcelain Spirit Dreams

Written: February 24, 2024
                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moonbeams kindle ambrosian dreams
Love evolves on auric gleams 
A gem in space, a costly pearl, a Luna
Fetching felicitous feelings, a fervid fawn
In this wassail ethereal area, hearts soar
I was awestruck by the lambent moon
Glittering gems, gilded in dull dust
Vanity surpasses a chimeric spell
A cromulent devotee, in awe
Emerald aureola, blazing high star
Heavenly memoir amphorae
Sew love from words in utter gaze.
 
Toed moon syntax tonight
In our bucolic spot, love will thrive
We are those who wield abilities of orbs
Sparse straps, splitting stripes
Love outshines crimson swirls
Sapphire adorns translucent tulips
Sturgeon Roe names cast in crystal 
Sipping strawberries spoils serene seas
My love infused a porcelain spirit
Sketch my comely soul
Let me breathe your raspy hiccups
Believe me—beyond oblivion
Your Zinnia blooms gambol my heart
Gorgeous, lost in a well-woven nimbus
Fugacious felicity and fluff on fiery flowers
Rising flames, faint shooting, conflict.

Outside orbs offer otherworldly orbits
Deciphering diaphanous riddles
Could night cherubs grasp our grace?
Classic clear cloud cores 
A balmy silk breeze hides enigmas
Covered below perseid colors
Your dulcet eyes sparkled dimly
Rose-tuned praise of cyan candidness 
Via velvety vintage valleys, vivid verse vests
Beleaguer back the fire of our waltz
The moonlight lifts our mellifluous breath
Dreams soar in tangerine skies.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Love Letter

You’re in the bushes hiding in the night
when humans bring out food for their dumb cat.
I know you’d like that food, and I will fight
to get you some! Dear, wouldn’t you like that?

I see you’ve been admiring my cute mask.
Well, I’m entranced by just the sight of YOU,
with stripes of black and white! But may I ask,
why, seeing you, do humans cry out, Ewwww?

How can’t they see your beauty? And your claws!
So long and strong! Come burrow in my tree.
For grubs and bugs you like, I’ll take my paws
and grab them for you. Will you dine with me?

Please answer yes. Then underneath the moon
let’s rendezvous.  Sincerely, Your raccoon.

Nov 5, 2017 for the Love Letter Contest of Viv Wigley
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Evil Shadows Any Time and Everywhere

Trains run alight terminate on time like clockwork 
never ending endless procession of precision conductors
the conducted walk down the line warped tracks of 
cynically divided isles dead ends of ‘labour making free’ 

Evil strips uniformed confluence stripes and leather

Coated terrified collection production of space soap
horror lampshades shearing shorn haired tattoos the
undivided divide of power abomination horrid abnormal
‘normality’ represses guilt projected trans-re-and aggression

Evil does other in the guise of completed concentration

Concerted action blisters scorches screams cacophonies 
children on father’s lap blue eyed dancing and laughing
kisses of love adoration cuddly dolls miniature life’s train
sets model schema roles toys games memories distraction

Evil giggles corporates shapes what past and future holds

Mothers craft homes happy families embrace posterity apple 
pies devotion roast cinnamon cranberry turkeys tarts in ovens 
pious allegiance compassion progress contrast splitting off piano 
forte harmonious singing rejoicing at mantelpiece and altar

Evil mocks smouldering torches paradise’s apple deprivation

Juvenile followers of fashion compose indoctrinate compost
hail philosophy’s trampled ideology void of virtue meaning
distorted communion bread wine blind vision blind-sight vortex
trailing inscribing engraving present history timeless repetition

Evil tracks moribund humanity dignity degeneration and disgust

Unless we reflect examine investigate inside and around
us the smokescreens stacked ember ashes individual ‘Self’
universal pursuit of righteousness flames of denial denigrating
potential illuminate conscience honesty fallibilities blue prints 
for darkness and unless we act and fight stand up and even then

Ubiquitous evil at this very moment will cast its seeds and shadows
will unbalanced fires raise their ugly head and minds and shoulders gas 
and bullets terror grenades rockets mines warfare starving emaciation
lest we forget the prototypes the moulds automated conveyor belts evil
we can not abdicate responsibility for blatant murder of the human race

Auschwitz is everywhere and there is no hierarchy of evil


July 1st Independence Day (Canada)

Premium Member Contemplation of a White Line---Drunken Pen

Look, there's a white line, dead center of this empty road
Wow, that sun is hot out here...
and here I am sitting on the edge of this blacktop world
waiting for a tow .......crying out loud......why, Lord, why today?.....
Some shortcut huh? You might call it a back road error in judgement...
leaving me sitting in this no-man's land of desolate boredom....
a missed appointment, a frustrated friend waiting, while all I can do is
look at heat waves billowing up in the heat of Indian summer and watch the
peafowl grazing in the tall brown weeds behind me, ......hunting grasshoppers I suppose....
Territorial hens and cocks at their banquet
One patriarch, with his vast train, it seems he reigns aloof ..sitting there,
in the shade of a vagrant oak.  At least there's one tree helping to shadow the place where I sit and oh yeah, that lone hen, wandering onto the white line, and looking at me, (with disdain, no less!)
I am an intruder, in a world I don't belong....she knows it.....should I apologize? "Okay, ....sorry you Chickadee!"  "Whattaya expect me to do?"......
Hmmm..... that fading white line................
how do they get it dead center of the road, I wonder?
I have been sitting here for nearly an hour, sigh.............and that long, long, line.......
going to nowhere..........strange..........how you can be
mesmerized by a long white line that meanders into the distant horizon...
Wonder how long has it been since I've had such a moment
just a small moment to contemplate such a trifle...
a narrow white line in the center of an asphalt road
Who put it there?  What sort of man?  Who drives the machine, that paints this line?
Did he do this all day...draw these straight white painted stripes?
Does he give it much thought?  This artist,...this Da'vinci of roadways?
Does he think of the life he might save....or the order this brings?
His touch of white on a blacktop world?
Does he do this all day.....day after day?
This artwork to pay for his wife's medicine?
Or for a son's braces, or a daughter's tuition?
Trivial contemplation, perhaps,  crazy maybe to ponder by the side of a road.....
You say.....it is just a white line......so what??
To someone....even a trifle....a white line on asphalt....
                           might be important......
Form: Narrative

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