Long Surefire Poems
Long Surefire Poems. Below are the most popular long Surefire by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Surefire poems by poem length and keyword.
something in the air called loneliness
makes me do things that are disguised
as outlets
my heart does the thinking for my brain
and the brain does the beating for my
heart
thinking that it is all a recipe for renovation
is actually a blueprint for surefire disaster
i laugh at my own jokes as i lie to myself
knowing that something is wrong and that
the pain is obviously there
something starts to fall as i imagine a hand
that i so long to hold and the beauty that i
so yearn to see
puzzles in my mind cannot be put together
in any type of strategic way and board games
in my heart can never be won in any type of
masterful fashion
knowing this, i just go on with my head held high
trying to mask the raging sorrow that i feel for
myself
repetition is like a pill you intentionally take after the
expiration date's expiration
seduction is like a laxative that starts working in the heart
of a long-awaited exploration
i wish i could christen myself at my own rededication, but a
voice ever so unhealthy for me continuously asserts its
persistence to give me medication
unfocused with no hint of even a smidgen of a goal, i kindly
follow blindly....
this box in a bushy pathway
represents the direction of my
life and the end of my world as
i watch the grass grow and the
trees sway only to find myself
even more lost that i ever was
originally
in every daydream i am in a time
machine rubbing a magic lamp
anticipating the surefire wishes
that i know in my heart will, without
doubt, come true
that stump with the bird manure
collection aids in my relaxation as
i write poems in my mind that will
not see the light of day neither on
computer nor on paper
intentionally ignoring ideal ideas
idiotically, i become blind to the
potential of the art's buried treasures
and hidden discoveries
i know somebody will unknowingly beat me
to the punch today and spike it with the
exclamation of his or her celebration
i guess i am a lazy loser full of awfully absurd
glorification
i will never show my face again due to the great
damage of my self demoralization
there was a little girl
who saw me and came up to me
and said, 'you are that unseen guy
who writes poems'
i nodded my head yes with a smile
and asked her how she knew
she told me that my poems got her
through her many times in the hospital
i asked her what her name was
she said with a surefire tone of confidence
'CONSTANCE'
i tell confident constance that it is a pleasure to meet her
she answered back 'likewise', making me laugh
she told me that she was diagnosed with eye cancer
i asked her how she was able to read my poems
she told me 'on a good day when my vision is not blurry'
she went on to tell me about her bulging eye, the shadows, and the wiggly lines
i asked her if she was ever, in some parts, blind
she shook her head no with a 'thank God!' look on her face
i asked her what was her favorite poem
she exclaimed 'ALL OF THEM!'
she had a copy of one of my poems in her left hand
i noticed this and she laughed as she figured out my look
while still laughing, she said 'I DID THAT FOR A REASON!'
i took the copy of the poem
it was BUTTERSCOTCH IS STILL A FRIEND OF MINE
i asked why that one was her favorite
she replied by saying 'because i too like butterscotch'
i then offered to take her to a place to get a butterscotch dipped cone
she shook her head and said 'make it a butterscotch sundae and you got me'
i said okay and promised her that i would not forget the cherry on top
i signed her copy of my poem, asked her mother for permission,
and off we went
we all had a good time that day, and i am glad that i blessed constance and her mom with that memory
here we are now, exactly a year and a half after that standout memory,
kissing constance's little forehead in a butterscotch colored casket
her eye cancer returned more aggressive and spread to her brain
i put seven butterscotch discs right at her heart to have in heaven
something in the sign in which you pen me
something in the burial grounds in which you den me
something in the illuminated images in which you pretend me
the yellow blues of the caution lights do rain dances on my sanity
see, when you walked away, i became a cross legged cripple
there was no longer heat in the center point of the simplest ripple
i commenced to banging my head to double and the triple
oh how i yearn for a cheek, a pearl, or even a nipple
if there was a wishing well at the end of life's force field,
then i would build all around it the mightiest surefire shield
not a soul could get through it even if one attempts to yield
constructed would be the formation of our own brand of guild
The pitcher toes the rubber, then steps off for a bit,
Wipes his brow, sets his cap, pounds the ball in his mitt
As he peers in for the sign sixty feet six inches away
Where stands the batter, dead set on wrecking his day.
The ump gives a shout: "Let's get on with it; time to play!"
The fans stir restlessly, yearn for action, come what may.
The hurler's into his wind-up, cocks his arm, lets it go,
The pitch is on its way; he's heaved a mighty throw...
The crack of the bat, the flight of the ball,
The timing of the fielder, who leaps over the wall
To snare an out from the jaws of a surefire home run---
Gasps of silence, then applause's tumult rains down.
Baseball's magic is unique, squeezed into seconds of play:
Seconds to shape a long summer, each and every day.
Pursuing fantasies of youth,
love becomes an impassioned goal.
And fledgling feelings flying free,
influence both the heart and soul.
Plagued by uncertainty and hope,
fantasies carry little clout.
And though you yearn for happiness,
you have not yet figured love out.
Playing Russian roulette with fate,
you give life's cylinder a spin.
But taking risks with your feelings,
doesn't guarantee a surefire win.
It's okay to want more than dreams,
life wasn't meant to be slept away.
But do not mistake lust for love,
no matter what your heart may say.
Forget the past; no one's perfect;
sometimes, fragile dreams break apart.
And as you gather the pieces,
time starts to mend your broken heart.
I'm no legal expert, I'm the first to say
Nor do I live in Israel, though I'm a citizen anyway
But it's hard to watch a proposal tear my country apart
So I'll write a few lines here, straight from my gut and my heart
What if Congress could overrule the US Supreme Court's every decision
It seems a surefire path toward unprecedented division
Imagine Roe vs. Wade subject to Congressional wrangling and supervision
The resultant laws, a recipe for chaos, scorn and derision *
So, that parallels what's been proposed in Israel's judicial revisions **
~ likened to an axe making the finest of incisions
__________________________________________________________
*With every change of power in Congress, (almost every election these
days), Roe vs. Wade would be revisited and redecided. Heaven help us!
**By a majority vote of Israel's Parliament (Knesset), Israeli Supreme
Court rulings could and would be overturned. (And with each shift in
the ruling majority's composition, a fresh round of overturning could
and would begin).
When amidst broken equals, we approved,
Ere a freed grain of nomadic sand slipped,
Melancholic surrendered, whole reproved,
Monitor the saved life single and stripped.
Two separate paths once joined normally,
One courses happiness, opposite naught,
Depraved, unprincipled, lived lukewarmly,
Blossomed languishes, internally fraught.
Provocative commencement surefire fade,
Arrangements, invites, sent cancellations,
Heartbreaking embattles a soul betrayed,
Evoke mother's "time out", do causations.
Solely talks like being ere his gravestone,
Passersby ask he says, "Gauging my own."
Hence no surprise... yes
recherché rhetorical flourish(es) impress,
yet mine deliberate vocabulist predilection,
I haint gonna stress
aforementioned quirk
also includes zero apr
(annual percentage rate),
may be subject with excess
sieve jejune ennui pullulating Kudzu like
indecipherable haphazard gobbledygook mess
abhorrent brashness claptrap discouraging
further harrowing progress
into thicket of verbiage, perhaps...
unwittingly encountering Loch Ness
cheesy Munster gussied up as...
transgender logophile, alias Hermann Hesse,
which obvious immediate
long winded atavistic feature will
allow, enable, and provide
dead giveaway clue to guess,
whether yours truly be
mouse or man (chess
champion) meandering along
stream of consciousness,
whereby succumbing to wordiness helpless
(fear not coronavirus,
nor other mortal affliction)
even if exuding fifty shades of gray pus,
the only bonafide surefire
holistic, iambic, therapeutic... recourse
I reluctantly, lamely, and feebly confess
to ameliorate slogging thru
metaphorical marsh cress,
(a veritable poetic nightmare)
volunteer self as unsuspecting to acquiesce
(lest no lifetime allowance
courtesy United States mint printing press),
whereat Impractical Jokers profess
gut wrenching, humiliating, insulting...
pranks, albeit dudes harmless
(think) only psychological state at risk else
suffer interminable, objectionable, unutterable...
mother (ƒµ©****) eternal duress
unbeknownst to thee multisyllabic
stranger vowel things in consonant
essentially Mattspeak trumpeting
as sesquipedalianism (the lesser of twee vols)
temporarily rendering, manifesting
sudden impulse to emulate... me,
and damaging basic cognitive process.
you are my superstar by far
simplicity shines solace in the midst of your presence
if i had a spotlight to make true beauty stand out, then you would surely be it
i once had a stairstep life that creaked and cracked
then you came along and unexpectedly repaired all that
now my life is a one story standout totally remodeled
i once had some artwork that was smeared and smudged
then you came along with the clarity of newly bright colors
now my outlook is more modern and less abstract
you are my superstar by far
a gentle peace beautifies the skies of my days like a rainbow
if i had a pot of gold to bless natural beauty with prosperity, then by golly you would be a surefire fit