Long Superseded Poems
Long Superseded Poems. Below are the most popular long Superseded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Superseded poems by poem length and keyword.
"Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.
I hope you dance" ~~ Mark Daniel Sanders / Tia M. Sillers ~~
Superseded thought waves not bothering with romance.
Why should I care now completely free, I am going to dance.
My cares are wild nymphs, escapees from worry no longer slaves.
Not bothering with romance, superseded thought waves
I am going to give my willpower a real fighting chance.
Blow my cares to the wind and be free, I am going to dance.
Whenever it’s my time, I’ll survive all this til my final hour.
A real fighting chance, I am going to give my willpower.
I won’t take a single moment for granted my health to enhance.
Carefree as a bird, you guessed it, I am going to dance.
Don’t tell me I am weak, I am strong, my feet well planted.
My health to enhance, I won’t take a single moment for granted.
Wonders happen I won’t believe the worst, In this enormous expanse,
The world revolves around faith, I have my share and I am going to dance,
As they bring in the verdict, I can’t say it will matter, it’ just the first.
In this enormous expanse, wonders happen, I won’t believe the worst.
I am light on my feet, I won’t sit this one out. I am absorbed in a trance,
Nothing can hurt me, I shall overcome, right now I am going to dance,
My word is survive, cant climb a mountain I will climb a hill, there’s no defeat
I won’t sit this one out I am absorbed in a trance, I am light on my feet.
I desperately gasp for you to save me,
as your indifference begins to remove all remaining traces of oxygen from my searing lungs.
Asphyxiation becomes more imminent.
Cortisol burns through tearing muscles,
ripping the marrow from aching bones, flailing to tread water.
Exhaustion floods in; saline-soaked clothing weighs heavier.
A siren’s call pierces through obscured waves,
crescendoing under a stygian sky,
tempting me under.
Dread replaces pleading.
Hope of survival is now beyond any comprehension.
Your voice no longer lingers;
it’s superseded by forceful whispers:
“If to love you, I must drown.”
Realisation hits like a tsunami crashing upon an unsuspecting ship.
To truly love you, I must love myself.
You were never my salvation.
So I must drown in this sickening sea of anguish,
let all the trauma pull me down into sheer oblivion.
Feel my body thrash as the light leaves my submissive eyes.
In order to be reborn, I must ascend way below.
Alan Shepard, astronaut, took golf balls to the moon
He whacked them only when he knew that he’d be leaving soon
‘One flew two hundred yards,’ he said, ‘and as I recollect
one came down in a crater, although I never checked.’
In seventy-one that bit of fun by NASA was allowed
Such jollity in twenty-one would now be disavowed
Like all the stuff they’ve left behind those golf balls lay there stranded
At least they do if it is true that both those golf balls landed
And then it all got boring with rockets on the wain
Those Saturn V Apollos superseded by a plane
Referred to as the shuttle like a boat, a bus or train
I doubt that space flights ever will excite me once again
Be careful what you wish for: is that not what they say
Something mad is happening, in outer space today
It should be so exciting as beyond the Milky Way
A hurtling flying saucer makes our population pray
It’s passing stars and galaxies at speeds beyond compare
We know it’s heading here because it didn’t stop off there
And now the bloggers tell us what the BBC refutes
It doesn’t come in peace because it’s loaded up with nukes
And finally it slowed down as upon our moon it came
And then it simply hovered there like it was taking aim
Then each TV and radio and stuff with speakers in
Crackled into life with a God almighty din
You humans shall obey these words and leave to us your earth
Or you shall be destroyed because you are of little worth
And then that space-ship blew apart as something smashed its shields
In orbit its astounding how much power a golf ball wields
***
[Postscript: in 1971, Alan Shepard took two golfballs and a modified club to the moon. Apparently, aware that any ‘whoops’ moments might be blamed on ‘larking about’, this was sanctioned on the proviso that all scheduled tasks had already been completed: thus Shepard teed off shortly before leaving the moon. To this day, Shepard retains the record for the longest golf shot on the moon... Duh!]
His eyes were totally devoid of empathy.
No one has eyes as vast as all humanity.
I've been living in denial that he's the Red Skull.
Rebuking that my vexing foe has lived but is dull
From a plane stuck on the Arctic ice during WWII.
Schmidt was the Red Skull, the Nazi commander.
The rare celestial artifact Tesseract was taken too.
Sought to funnel harm into the world through slander.
Hitler, who saw him in his rage, was his evil mentor.
Led Hitler's global espionage and terror strategy.
If Hitler was hailed, his crimson skull mask just tore.
America built a chief rival to the Red Skull's raggedy.
Steve Rogers was a plebe with military dreams.
He was selected after a number of initial setbacks.
This US military endeavor is unique in its deems.
Serum and premix made him Captain America hacks.
Rogers displayed prodigious acts of heroism.
When he alone could free all the prisoners of war.
By lurking inside the armed Nazi camp of terrorism.
Infamous Red Skull had built in the Hydra lair.
To prevent Schmidt from using nuclear weapons.
The superhero assaulted him in his airplane.
The device's mystic force created rift beckons.
That screwed in the torn body of the Nazi brain.
3rd place contest winner
Written: March 11, 2023
Contest: Marvel Supervillains Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Drip melted and dripped from the glacier with romp.
Drop wandered and swirled in that stuffy old swamp.
Convection joined them into Dribble during an April shower.
This unexpected entwining endowed them with power.
Encouraged by the nudge and shove of a neighbor,
they entered River with a modicum of labor.
Free flowing they swirled, bubbling, gurgling and scouring.
Eroding bit by bite, delivering the mites for Rivers' devouring.
Agitation enhanced when through rapids they danced.
Excitement enfolded, they tumbled becoming entranced.
When River regained a steady flow and composure,
Dribble relaxed, accepting unmitigated exposure.
Pull drew them relentlessly to the edge of the deep.
For Dribble there was no escape, no sleep,
no compromise, no exception, only River's way,
sucking them over a precipice, in the perpetual splay.
River poured and plummeted for hundreds of feet.
Terminating in a roiling plunge pool of defeat.
The concept of River ended. Chaos now on duty
became King, an eternal roaring stream of beauty.
Dribble had separated back into Drip and Drop.
Apart and lost they persistently did not stop
searching for each other. They became vagabonds, bereft.
Eon superseded eon, adventures came and left.
One lovely day in May, Convection plopped Drop into a lake.
Drip, evaporating on a leaf, fell into that lake by mistake.
They met, reunited, and became Dribble anew,
thus continuing our tale with a Deja Vu.
Biased
She wants a child but not a man
Only his seed will do
And when the child is born she’ll say
’Sweetheart it’s me and you
We’ll be a team, you’ll be my prince
Or princess’, if it’s a she
’My child, you’ll be completely mine
I’ll raise you to be free
A girl with an independent mind
Or a boy with manly traits
I’ll show the world how great I am’
What a fantasy she creates!
And in her longing for a child
Repercussions she ignores
What matters most of all to her
Is that she wins and scores
She’s adamant to show them all
That a woman can be boss
Of her body, her mind, and her own life
Who says she’s at a loss?
So now we have a brand-new breed
Let’s see how they adjust
They will be spoiled and pampered too
Because they were a must
The father figure was erased
His input was not needed
For times have changed and the father role
Has now been superseded
Poor little boys and little girls
What will become of you?
May happiness keep you company
Pray grief does not ensue.
But as the lack of fathers
Becomes more obvious with time
This biased planning proves to be
A faulty paradigm.
Wendy Nipas
This magnificent computer
which resides within our head
How amazingly it reacts
to information that it's fed
No matter what age
we have achieved
New neurones will develop
if practice is conceived
It's said that we only utilise
ten percent of brain capacity
I am aiming to achieve much more than that
forever in pursuit of sagacity
Here are two examples my own I do present
nine months ago began writing poems many edits then were needed
With constant practice a deficiency of skill is superseded
Can now sit for half an hour
a poem will be spawned
Mostly now no editing original poetic thoughts
on paper they have formed
Began these online poetic presentations just four months ago
two finger typing very slow has now increased speed by tenfold
Not sufficient skills there yet to type if I was shackled to a blindfold
What is now an exciting discovery, handwriting
with lead pencil improves brain connectivity
My pencil's always sharpened
like my brain and there's improved receptivity
Listen to music also magic for the brain in 432 hertz frequency
but to play a musical instrument that's even better
Connects left/right brain hemispheres
Don't ever give up! Many neurones there to unfetter
Samson reborn within
brand name garden variety
twentieth century *****sapien
hirsute trademark characteristic
electrified, empowered, enamored
mirrored reflection validated
substantial flowing luscious tresses
superseded body, mind, and spirit triage
prioritized as most significant
constituent essence passively
potently, pronouncedly exemplified
declaration of independence
against parental United Kingdom
first impression evoked
heavy metal musician,
this then skinny prepubescent lad
who doth sing a poor tune
easily mistaken androgynous
long haired pencil necked geek
weathered cruel barbs
harriedly styled swiftly tailored
disproportionately relegated hirsute
feature length non "FAKE"
real McCoy adorning
all important Hatfield resident
effectively far fetched
gloating prized hair him,
despite primitive diatribes
courtesy loving "mom,"
she did vociferously inveigh
vouchsafed to schtup
ample legal tender,
all to no avail
then authoritarianism tactics resorted,
I lacked chutzpah to vent anger,
plus self confidence
to vamoose voluntarily negligible,
unnecessary insufferable expletives
out the mouth of she...,
who birthed sole son
passively resistantly intractable
demure, meek, resilient...
even decades later
vicious lashings still affect me
analogous black barbs
digging deep into psyche
diminution allotted thinning hair
absent male pattern baldness...,
I surmise to attribute
senescence the culprit.
A free country,authorities questioning our rights
no crime,no contest,a superseded street plight
peacefully discussing the right for your stance
self expressions,through a calm balance.
The road of life has many signs,riding the ruts
ethically speaking out loud,there is a few buts
when police intervene,trying their ways
to blind you with law,and you make them pay
With their own words,more indepthly sort
feeling a losing battle,will be bought
they mumble few warnings,then on their way
good afternoon officers,do have a nice day.
Paul Beadnall:
.Sponsor Brian Strand
Contest Name SEPTEMBER-YOUR CHOICE any theme/form max 14 lines
Mother would patschke
early that day in the kitchen,
and recruit any guest, who
blindly ambled thru front door
suddenly trapped unwittingly
squarely (triangulated) into kitchen
forcibly impressed to help
set up buffet tables
and/or given carte blanche to prepare
some mysterious dish,
(a hodgepodge of ingredients),
that suffered no shortages of compliments
unfortunately could never be duplicated.
Guests harkened far and wide
word of mouth boastful rantings and ravings
superseded culinary Michelin Guides
to dole out seven stars,
which wordsworth meant "exceptional cuisine
promised hungry visitor
a special satisfactory journey."
"Time to eat" (usually bellowed courtesy father)
generated an orderly stampede to jostle in line
and commence maximizing capacity
testing sturdiness disposable plates could hold
scouting, shoe horning, staking...
place to become comfortably numb with satiation.
Amidst various and sundry masticating jaws
(with each respective mouthful
of food glorious food -
cue said Oliver Twist song title)
followed by draught of spirits
ejaculations of delight issued,
and punctuated the sound of silence
when not additionally interrupted
courtesy sibilant crackling
popping, and snapping
wood burning stove,
which aforementioned heat source
lulled well fed tummies
whereby heavy eyelids drooped
while heads sank into chest.
No matter hunger pangs quieted
evidenced by casserole, glass, pyrex...
scraped clean rumors heralding dessert
quickly awoke wine weary souls
analogous to sluggish animals
awakening out their hibernation,
when self anointed maître d'
showcased good n plenti desserts
(pies, ice cream, cookies and cakes galore)
she made house special
comprising secret ingredients.
Upon being stuffed to the hilt
(dear kith and kin mother
all counted as family
think taxidermist specimen
readied for mounting)
all pledged a unanimous
New year's resolution
vouchsafed to start on diet
come January first.