Long Ten lines Poems

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


Premium Member Tribute To the Day Before You Came By Bjorn Ulvaeus In the First 1982 Abba Version

Tribute to “The Day Before You Came” * by Bjorn              
in the first 1982 ABBA version 


The day before yesterday 
You came together to play
To lift our hearts in joy 
Belting out in convoy
The day after he came 
We celebrate whose fame
You wailed through self-pity 
But ne’er called it Beauty

‘Infinite suffering thing’ 
Would that Eliot could sing
Pre-dramatic event 
Your breaking-up you meant
“Pretty sure it must have rained”
”…rattling on the roof” hearts stained
The day after he came
Most songs seem sound the same

“Knowing you Knowing me”
Never meant to be free
“…my life…its usual frame”
“…sense of living without aim”
Yes “Some one is crying”
No some one’s conniving
At noon must have left for lunch
“…usual place…usual bunch”

The sad journey on rails
Must break hearts crammed in jails
Due at eight in the morn
Back at eight all forlorn
“And turning out the light”
Curled safe in bed at night
For the day after he came
My life burned on a flame

The paradox of joy
Is that it makes one cry
‘Parting is such sweet sorrow’
Better still safe routine in tow
“…I hid a part of me…”
“…in heaps of papers” for fee
And let the world pass by
Not knowing what is joy

Is joy carpe diem
Was day before he came
Now my life’s over due
I’ve met my Waterloo
The train’s an ugly monster
Dragging its hind legs after
Frida’s howl pack of hounds
Benny's sound track train pounds

Anna’s swan tones lament
Bjorn’s lines uptight breasts rent
Beauty’s not only content
It’s also the way you vent
Conceit’s the ermine cloak
Rattling skeletons croak
Bjorn’s true lines exquisite poem
Sung in sweet pain What’s its name

Notes

Words within inverted commas are from the song.
Single quotes indicate other well-known words.

*Rhyme scheme: 4  stanzas (3 of ten lines with concluding quatrain) in rhymed couplets of varying syllabic count.
1st stanza: aabbccde ff
2nd stanza: aagghhii ff
3rd stanza: ddggiijj ff
4th stanza: kk ff 
Not all in perfect rhyme: rain/came (for instance)
The syllabic count (more or less): 14 (with the exception of the 4th
line at 18 and eighth (exception: 1st stanza at 10) and tenth at 6.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Happy Birthday Mary Duhart --Enjoy Your Special Day (Double Etheree Poem)

Great songs
On your day
In your own way
May your day be bright
Filled with special delight
Let your burning candle shine
From your yum cake royally dine
May your family and friends enjoy
Your birthday with a great poetess friend 

Now tell me the big number if you will
I will take it just like a sweet pill
Thirty-one and holding I see
Hope your day is full of glee
Wishing you more birthdays
Writing your own ways
Poetic thoughts
In great parts
Touching
Hearts

© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., 8/6/09
© All Rights Reserved

The Etheree poem was created about twenty years ago by an Arkansas poet named Etheree 
Taylor Armstrong. The poem consists of ten lines of unmetered verse. The lines may also be 
rhymed or unrhymed depending on the style of the author. The first line of the poem has 
only one syllable. Thereafter, each succeeding line adds another syllable. There is a total 
syllable count of fifty-five in the poem. The Etheree poem is similar to a Nonet poem with the 
exception of the 10th line and syllable count. The Nonet only has 45 syllables, which is 16 
shorter than the Etheree poem. One may get creative and write an Etheree with more than 
one verse. This may take the form of a Double Etheree: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, then 10, 
9, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1; that is the style in which this poem is written.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is 
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which 
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the 
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine; 
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for 
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~
Form: Etheree

Premium Member W-Ode To 50 Wives Bred To Worship the Polygamous Prophet

Strophe

The polygamist had a big house                                        
Where he chose to warehouse hundreds of girls
And women including 29 stepmothers, his father’s spouses
56 of the girls were each other’s sisters.
And 24 were under the age of seventeen.           
Some of the young wives even assisted passions
The pedophile with his sexual assaults 
Telling the girls that if they refused to please his preen
In what he dubbed the “heavenly sessions”
They would be “rejected by God’s favorite cult.

Antistrophe

Wives were both the victims of his abuse
And the accomplices subjected to a cruel
World of worship and sexual abuse
And were so indoctrinated and used cool.
Who cruelly bred them for manipulation.
Calling himself the ‘humble servant’ of God
Asking the girls to please God to atone community’s sins
Oh, the wives of the notorious polygamist’s predation
Into the twisted world of subjugation fold
With which he surrounded himself amidst the teens.

Epode

Had a wisdom tooth for his sexual gratification
Raping the young girls in his big house to make housewives
The State of Texas has a big house for lamentation
Where he will spend the rest of his life’s cloves 
Well, he will have plenty of time to repent.
And think deeply on the meaning of life
Out of the 50 wives none of the parents got relief
Where are the parents of these young girls tormented?
Does that mean all were brainwashed for strife?
So scary that pedophilia can be masked as religious belief.
.===============================================

Dr. Ram Mehta
First Place win in :
Contest: A Toothful Ode by nancy jones

** This is the English Ode, also called the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode. 
The Romantic Ode often followed the Irregular Ode's structure 
and the Homostrophic Ode's meditative quality.

Rhyme Scheme : ABABCDECDE (Ten lines)
Form: Ode

An Ode To Life, Part I

To die an old man, tasks left on slow burn, 
And as fake coins do, get reborn ‘pon earth; 
Work harder still, more mileage points to earn, 
Which, heaven calls goodly deeds well their worth, 
To repeat none of careless omissions, 
Careful avoiding sinful commissions, 
Grow up again and relearn things ere learnt, 
Suffer old age again, same helplessness, 
Begin and end with diapers no less, 
Same hassles of life, oh what a huge stunt! 

And yet, there are welcome blessings to fore: 
Mother's love— not else in life be so good, 
Worth returning to earth often and more, 
Another, innocence of the childhood, 
And its older version— second childhood, 
For small joys, pleasures, life's trinkets so rife, 
And that hard lesson learnt in adulthood 
That true joys come from trivial things of life.  

For sure, this journey of life has odd rules, 
Where humans are handed worse punishment—
Being treated no better than draught mules 
That must learn things learnt ere— in chastisement, 
The karmic fate— there's no meaner kill-joy, 
But is not life God's play-act to enjoy? 

And still I'd feel, life comes with mixed blessings, 
Like coins it comes with two sides: joy and strife, 
One may call it tyranny of this life, 
Of destiny that in a dual voice sings. 

And poor man, whether he likes it or not,
Must empty ere refill his karmic pot!

And still, I love you O life, fall or spring, 
I like this journey, pray keep me calling. …… 
____________________________________________   
Musings | 03.07.16 | Ode 
Poet’s note:  This first part of the Ode starts with ten lines in the first stanza. Every stanza progressively loses two lines, ending with a pair of couplets. For, each lifespan is supposed to reduce the journey of evolution that ends with Liberation. But as this poem seems in love with life, it continues and carries on.
Form: Ode

Premium Member Ode To Beauty-W

strophe

I stand on the snow covered mountain
Colorful vase of flowers
Slopes  with flower beds laden
I saw the snow lotus flowers
I asked, “Why are you all alone here?
Beauty is meant to be adored.
Should give yourself to somebody
Before your petals fall to dust soon, dear.
What if I crushed your petals, I asked
As at these heights, you are quite lonely”..

antistrophe

One of the flowers quickly responded
“I enjoy the shelter of blue skies.
I would be too glad
If you choose  to crush my petals
My fragrance will spread everywhere.
Fulfilling the purpose and duty
If destroyed, not admired.
By plucking my petals, remember
You won’t gather my beauty,
Beauty is to see, not to be plucked'.

epode

“O’ lotus, you teach wisdom to man
Praise her beauty, don’t destroy her. 
It is the gladdest thing under the sun
Touch a hundred flowers not pick ever”
O’ man, pluck not wayside flower even 
It is the traveler’s dowers.
Silently a flower blooms alone
And in silence it falls down
If I am worth many pleasures,
I think I am too few then”.

===================================
June 15, 2014
Form : Ode
First Place win in
Contest: My favorite poem by Carol Eastman
===================================
Form: Ode (the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode)
Rhyme scheme: ABABCDECDE (Ten lines)
Second place winner in
Contest: Ode sponsored by Jared Pickett

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
This is the  English Ode, also called the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode. 
The Romantic Ode often followed the Irregular Ode's structure 
and the Homostrophic Ode's meditative quality.
====================================

The poem also won the second place in the International Poetry
Contest of 2011 by Poetry Soup.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Form: Ode


Premium Member March Toward Eternity: a Poem of Collaboration With Ann Foster

All time comes to an end. 
Eternity is a matter discussed quietly among the flawed, 
in an earnest effort to find peace. 
There is none, there never was, in the dead man’s march. 
Only His grace can buy the price of even the most
… unworthy soul.

All that come to know Him, will know Him forever. 
All that say they will not… 
are lying to themselves.
They already know that, too. 

Cognizant of such, we thank God for enabling our faith to know Him 
as the Holy Spirit exposed our sinfulness we did earnestly admit.
Repenting, we trusted Christ to be accepted by the Father 
believing that He won’t cast those who come to Him…
Thus, with His imputed righteousness, we’re now justified
His grace ransomed our worthless souls securing our march toward heaven.

Enjoying vibrant relationship with Him, blissful peace engulfs us
in the midst of a defiled, turbulent world awaiting His judgment...
We reach out to others along love's joy, before time comes to an end
commencing eternity* marked by the Lord's sovereign timetable.

*First ten lines are from the poem, “Judgment” posted on November 3, 2019 by a poet friend, ANN FOSTER, who started in the PS on June 1, 2019.

**Isaiah 57:15 For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.

November 12, 2019 
1st place, "Introduction by Collaboration" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 11/14/2019.

Such Tearful Words

Such tearful words said at my sister’s wake,
      her short life, beyond my comprehension.
          I try to stay strong for my daughter’s sake,
              trepidation allures apprehension.........
                   Where’s the help for suicide prevention?
                   Her goodbye letter hit me really deep,
              for now she lays in a permanent sleep.
          If time moves this slow, how do I advance?
     Her withered white roses I shall still keep, 
I just wish she gave loves light one more chance.

                      If angels do weep, can I taste her tears?
                           Because I swear I can still hear her cry.
                                On her final day I could sense her fears,
                                   why couldn’t she give tomorrow a try?
                                      I knew deep down she was ready to die.
                                      If leaving brought her joy I should feel ease,
                                   but all I wish for is one more hug please…
                               Oh, why did her own life did she wish to take?
                            I hear her voice sometimes, it’s just a tease,
                        such tearful words said at my sister’s wake.


Dizain: Ten lines of 10 syllables each line
Rhyme Scheme: A-B-A-B-B-C-C-D-C-D

Contest: Two Stanzas - Two Only - Poetry Contest
Sponsor, Broken Wings

Date Written: July 19, 2016
Form: Dizain

Premium Member Prosebite

I created one type of writing in the form of a prose and a poem combined.  Very similar to the Japanese version of a Haibun, only that in this type of writing I need not to set a standard of making the poem appear or sound only as haiku.  One to three lines or even up to ten lines in a stanza (rhymed or unrhymed) as a poem, before or after the prose (flash story or anecdote of your interest) will do.  Any form of poetry can be combined or added in or within the prose itself.  I call it "Prosebite." 

  The prose need not to be too short nor too long, so long as the readers can comprehend the kernel or message of the prosebite.  
  
  A bite of any form of poetry and a chunk of writing in prose.

  A combination of two or three (or even four) different forms of poetry can also be considered as prosebite.  It is your way of expressing yourself.  Your perspective matters.


Prosebite is what you write
In form of a poem-piece anywhere.
With a prose somewhere,
With or without too many rhymes to kite.

No numbering or syllabication in lines
No stricter rules to follow between the lines.
Structure is what you do in a prosebite
Create and innovate your own bite.

Hailed haiku and haibun, we conformed
The way structures were formed.
We followed standards and rules as known
But somehow we can create our own.


(Prosebite)
Form: Other

Premium Member Dedicated To Constance

.
                                    

                                            And commented on her posting,

                                      "Whispers in The Wind" ****romanticism,

                                Just one of the rules ~ ~ ~ ~ of contest she's hosting.

                                            So what is next? **** I've centered
       
                                                 And also **** double spaced.

                                   "Oops" ~ ~ ~ ~ I held the space bar down too long

                                                 And now I'm crimson faced.

                                        She commands it be ten lines **** or more

                                                     Not one rule may I miss.

                                            So now I think ~~~~ perhaps I'm done.

                                                          I'll sign it with a kiss.

                                            It's new of course****only Constance

                                             Could inspire a gem****like this.
                                                                 

By: Joyce Johnson

For Constance's Follow the rules contest.


Tied for no. 1 with everybody

Jack

She spent
her evening with a
friend named Jack.  Jack
stood out like a volunteer, making
no apology for himself (though he forward
marched through her life like a
soldier's foot-stomp parade,
minus pomp minus
circumstance).

Jack always
took his possessions at
first ever impulse, that is
to say he was the type of
man who could "carpe diem" with the
best of them.  She agreed.  "Play
the horn play the drum", she
thought, while given
to him.

Jack always
left his possessions at
second glance.  He was the
nothing-to-show-for-it type of man.
She did not want him to return. She did
want him to return.  He did not
want to come home.  He
did want to come
home.

She spent
her evening without
a friend named Jack, who
steals the thunder.  Jack sat on the
shelf like streamlined vodka.  Apologetically,
he backward marched a Saint Louis
funeral-in-reverse.  She
then nursed a wound
to remember
him by.

(Author:  Chad Wood -  This poem was entered in the contest "Create Your Own Form, Maybe
 ?" sponsored by Constance ~ A Rambling Poet! ~ Form:  Call this the "In and Out" form.  The
 stanzas have ten lines each, which expand and retract, with subject matter about 'something 
in life that comes and goes', can be as many or as few stanzas long as wished)
© Chad Wood  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

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