Long Talking Poems
Long Talking Poems. Below are the most popular long Talking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Talking poems by poem length and keyword.
He is like a deadly disease bringing despair.
He won't take the hint, he isn't wanted anywhere.
He is like a dark cloud, polluting the air.
Yet he insists on showing up unannounced everywhere.
His sense of self importance is baffling considering he has accomplished so little in life.
Most people find him insufferable, even his own sweet wife.
He boasts of grandiose dreams of wealth and fame.
He is clueless to the fact that no one gives 2 shizits about his crappy game.
He will keep talking and talking, even when no one will listen.
Unaware he is a waste of space and a waste of perfectly good oxygen.
He is condescending to others but being called out gets him frustrated.
He wears a stupid hat too small for his big ugly head
and always looks angry and constipated.
He is easily upset when his ideas are ignored or dismissed.
He hates being in group settings where his butt is not being kissed.
When people aren't admiring him, he will throw a pity party and wallow.
It's a shame that 51 years ago, his mama didn't swallow.
I signed up for beginner lessons at a gourmet cooking school
Everything was going well at first; the chef was pretty cool
Aroma of well-seasoned chicken parmesan made me drool
But that was before the dramatic entrance of a silly fool
Smilin' like the Cheshire Cat, his name was Dulydunnylac
He went stridin' around the kitchen, callin' everyone, 'Jack.'
We were dressed in white, but Duly said he only wears black
Chef said, "Not here, you won't, and don't think of talking back."
Duly mumbled as he made pasta, but I ignored his chit chat
He made a dish with ginger; called it 'Gineramacolgeepat'
The chef sniffed it before he took a bite, and then he spat
No words spoken, but their eyes locked in scornful combat
I created a dish in Duly's honor, and named it 'Egernomenality'
which translated into, "Duly is eager but has no mentality"
He took a bunch of swings at me with enthusiasm and vitality
so I had him arrested and he'll appear in court for an illegality
The whole class graduated, 'cept for Duly, that big surly fella
We made spicy Florinella pizza, loaded with extra mozzarella
but some classmates were turning the shade of yucky yella
One by one we were hospitalized, suffering from salmonella
Pop lock
Sandals with socks
Chrome glints
Rhythm don’t stop
The East might wake first
But the West owns the drop
We decide how the day ends
Slow burn on saltwater glass
Light folds into legend
As hours pass
Seattle rain hums through guitar strings
Portland hums strange with impossible things
LA mirrors shimmer with ambition’s glow
San Diego exhales
Calm
Steady
Slow
The Bay keeps talking in hustle and code
Tech rides the fog down a golden road
Pho steam curls by a muraled wall
Taco trucks preach flavor gospel to all
Grunge ghosts hum down alleyway seams
G funk rides out in low chrome gleams
We built peace signs into protest chants
Concrete remembers how the wind rants
Call it culture
Call it home
Call it flame
Every city a verse
Every block a name
Pretty women move like tidewater bright
Certain in their shine
Sure in their light
Men speak calm
But their minds run fast
Half rebel
Half calm
Built to last
Every accent a remix
Every street a beat
Soul food and sushi rolls
Uniquely meet
Dim sum with slang
Tacos with soul
Flavors blend in ways
That keep us whole
Professors surf before they teach
Students dream just out of reach
We learn from land that burns and heals
Salty ocean air covers what wildfire steals
Dreaming awake
Grounded yet high
Feet in the sand
Head in the sky
From Black Panthers
To beat poets’ hymns
From tech prophets
To Silicon code spins
We reinvent normal
Chill made art
Sunset speaks
Straight to the heart
We turn stillness into language
Fire into grace
We let rhythm breathe
At a West Coast pace
The East may rise first
In story and sign
But the West
Will always
Define the shine
Listen well to your heavenly father
for He knows what He's talking about
all that comes from His holy mouth
is all pure truth never any doubt
So look intently at all of nature
see the birds fly through the air
what do they do for their food supply?
nothing, they always get their share
None of these creatures of the wild
neither sow nor reap nor do they collect
but they trust in the great God above
whose heavenly supply does sure connect
Now God's creation of all humanity
especially Adam and Eve and their kind
they're of greatest value to the living God
so He will provide abundance you will find
So does God not love you equally
His son died for your sins to atone
coming back to take you to His home
He's promised never to leave you alone
('Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? ')
Matthew 6: 26 (ESV)
The night falls, a darkened sky,
Stars glitter at me… every second, every time.
From the eastern side of my island, we see an eye—
A bright, round, dark-yellow eye,
Peeking from beneath the calm, dark ocean blue,
Yawning, as we wait for the game to start.
When the full moon rises, awakened by a cold breeze,
It glows above with a heavenly breath.
White clouds take shape in different forms,
Moving like actors in a silent film—
Dancing, battling, making funny faces.
Soon, our backyard is bathed in ghostly white,
The niu, ulu, tamaligi, and talie trees
Stretch their black shadows across the garden,
Twisting, creeping—scary, eerie, thrilling.
Bushes wave at us, adding to the excitement,
And one of us calls out, "Fai kakou igave’a!"
This is better than any sport,
Playing under moonlight—
Not too hot, not too cold,
No sunburn, no boredom, no chores.
An owl hoots in the distance,
Cicadas whisper secrets we can hear but never see.
Bats swoop above, hunting on the fruit trees,
Turning the night into an adventure.
Each player takes position,
Finding the perfect hiding spot,
Disappearing into the shadows.
"Make sure to survive a forbidden fall!"
Hide and Seek, the palagi name it,
But in Samoa, this is the game of the night.
We play until the seeker finds us all,
Laughter echoing through the garden,
Until exhaustion pulls us to the soft grass,
Breathing in the scent of pure earth,
Singing lullabies to the moon’s endurance.
"Omai i le fale, ua leva le po!"
Mum calls from the front of the house.
We groan—too soon to end the night!
"Darn it!" I whisper to my brother.
"It’s alright, there are plenty of nights ahead!"
"But not every night is a full moon!" I grumble.
We race home, wash up, and rest.
As I lying in bed, my mind still full of wonder,
Dreaming of the moon, our white planet.
What would the world be without you?
Dark, dull, silent, lifeless.
'Ha! Ha! Can’t wait for your next return.'
Tonight? Maybe next time.
I laughed, as I heard my little brothers giggled beside of my bed
Find me stupidity talking to myself.
I’m off to sleep now—
Or else I’ll be late for school tomorrow!
G’night, moon babe, and sweet dreams.
Every time I see your face somber
And your tone unhappy
Any day that passes without us talking
My heart grows wrinkles
For your pain also pains me
And I question if I’ve done anything wrong to hurt you.
I know times when I’m moody-
Hurtful words may slip from my tongue.
Or I may act irrationally.
But it’s not that I ever want to hurt you.
And I know I rarely show you…
But my heart beats faster every time you’re not home on time.
I know I rarely show you…
But a million questions spin my mind every time you don’t pick my calls.
I know I rarely show you…
But every time I say goodbye, I always wish I’d stay there by your side.
I know I rarely show you,
But my heart smiles from end to end every time I see you happy.
I know I rarely show you…
But my concern for you runs far much deeper.
My care for you climbs far much higher.
And my love for you is unexplainable through words.
So anytime I’m moody don’t judge me harshly-
Just like you, I’m not perfect.
And though my reactions are out of the line at times…
It’s not that I ever want to hurt you.
©GraceM Composition
The water well
There is near the houses a deep well
you can´t stick a bucket on a rope many ropes are needed.
They used to hire a man usually the village idiot
to spend his life hauling up buckets of water.
Villagers believed the water came from the Yanjing river
A man who had gone to school disagreed; it is a deep
underground river, he said. For this, he was disliked.
One day he fell down the well, but since it was not
manmade and smooth a big stone sticking out saved him
from falling all the way down.
Broke his leg in the fall, he did.
With a dangling leg he had to claw himself up, however
they gave him water to drink, his struggle made him thirsty.
When he got out, he spoke a strange language
the villagers, thought was Chines, it never struck them
he was stark raving mad.
Now, an electric pump was installed, they saw him limping
out of the village talking gibberish.
Persian Sonnet: Candle and the Sun
Persian Sonnet: Candle and the Sun
I heard a candle talking to the sun,
asking him why he must be so bright.
How fun it is to look at you tonight!
When the day is gone, the moon is the one.
Shadows are breaking, yet figures may run,
I shall be lighting all lovers all night.
Making sweet illusion of night, delight,
and close their day when lover’s night is done.
How beautiful is it when you’re gone?
I’ll be the reason for lovers to be,
Then we live until the very break of dawn,
and they see only what their heart will see.
How magnificent is it to live on?
Although it’s just a night, it’s life for me.
1/20/16 Haloo
Whether we are talking about the myriads of weather conditions,
or a seemingly sudden explosion of crime driven people,
or some unbelievable revelation of a pastor or politician gone bad; the
chances of such happenings unfolding without prior 'fuel for the fire'
are simply unfeasible. Intelligent Design plus Time and Space; And then!
Certain conditions are required before there can be rain. Then, it pours!
A high temperature has to be reached before the water in the pot can boil.
Then, it steams! Newborns are conceived, and the formation of them proceeds
months prior behind the scene. Then come joy and gladness! Not from nowhere, and never to oblivion, but with plan and purpose. And then!!!
04112017 cj PS Contest, And Then, John Lawless
What's for you shall never pass you.
And you better hold it tight and know its value.
Cause there ain't nothing like taking something for granted,
waking up the next day and wishing you had it.
Time is ticking always in a rush.
Surrounded by people who haven't earned your trust.
Mouths moving, but they ain't making noise.
Walking around with knives and guns, and I ain't talking toys.
Society still putting labels everywhere,
just giving another reason for people to stop and stare.
Oh! but you can't use gay, oh no you wouldn't dare.
Black boys getting called niggas everyday , but I forgot society don't care.
People getting slandered everyday for speaking the truth.
Didn't know it could hurt so bad, but now I have a clue.
People still reppin their green, red, even white and blue,
for the sake of themselves and the pride that they hold onto.
Im just traveling through this world and observing my view.
Not trying to conform to this world; no need to please any of you.
When I write these rhymes I'm spittin' nothing but the truth.
So don't shoot the messenger, I'm just trying to give you a birds eye view.