Long Test Poems
Long Test Poems. Below are the most popular long Test by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Test poems by poem length and keyword.
in traffic there is an accidie and weariness
and flatness and humdrum of the road
but leonard cohen helps with that
and i think about the poor north koreans
without their fix of coca cola
and the mental health of the finnish with
their billabong of coffee and caffeine flowing
out their ears and the best brand of water in china
has the biggest market reach and woodpeckers don't
get headaches because according to a
professional content provider they just don't
and speaking of the chinese
they've found a hut on the moon
some distance away from their rover; who can tell
who might be living in that hut
i look up out the windscreen at the moon
and imagine myself living in that hut
or maybe leonard cohen is living there now
and england have lost the first ashes test
and outside the hut is a scoreboard showing
australia need twenty runs to win
the hut has become a pavilion and there's plenty of
tea drinking going on
no finnish there pal
and someone shouts howssszat! across the galaxy
as asteroid 4660 nereus misses earth
as i miss childhood
it travels on and on into the depths of the saddle
of the universe
~ Coloring Is Fun ~
( Whitney's Kiss )
Coloring
Books, are great fun
So many
Are to choose from
Just awesome!
For all moods, taste
Get one, two, three, maybe more
Color away, sky, indoor
It's much fun. Learn,
Pick Colors
I just love it
Soothe mind, soul
Relieve your stress
Books bring joy.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2018
January.16.2020
'Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.'
- Mark Twain-
~Author's Notes:
The "Whitney’s Kiss " is a poetry form or style created by Janet Vick.
It is 14 lines with syllable counts of 3,4,3,4,3,4,7,7,4,3,4,3,4,3. The 7 syllable lines rhyme. Any subject.
"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power."
- Abraham Lincoln -
Window Dressers
Running
different
than reigning
Politicians
shortly
find
Chasing the vote
versus
crossing the moat
Very few
able
— fewer to thrive
**********
Narrative Rewarded
Like weight training
for an athlete
poetry makes you strong
Each word a rep
till failure
to bring your lines along
A verses strength
increases
when flexed the story bold
With narrative
enrichened
— the poetry like gold
************
Venture Forth
My treasure hidden
beyond the waves
the horizon
beckons on
Through pounding surf
and giant seas
a voice
is calling strong
I set my sail
the closest reach
with tiller
in both hands
On faith alone
round jagged reefs
I trust
in who I am
Through longish days
and longer nights
my course
uncharted stays
The mainsail up
the jib reset
one albatross
relays
That fortune comes
but once in life
to those who hear
its call
And venture forth
through unknown winds
into
— the raging squall
***********
Spiritual Chrysalis
Losing oneself
to find oneself
Emptiness cowers
— catharsis begins
********
Devil At The Gate
Loyal
when it suits you
Faithful
when it’s safe
Committed
to the mirrored self
Devil
at the gate
Back turned
to the prophet
Fealty
starts to burn
Treason
left on high display
Shame
— at every turn
********
Poet & Prophet
Today
is all that matters
Memory
your biggest foe
Mining the pathway
to future promise
Excuse and weakness
grow
Time an illusion
a crutch for the weak
To hobble and stumble
in constant retreat
This moment recurring
endemic when willed
the poet and prophet
— forever instilled
*********
Never To Return
If the past is empty inside you
— the future will be lost
*********
Resistance Ignored
The world
quickly bored
at the recital
of misfortune
And most
willingly avoids
the sight
of distress
The path
of resistance
ignored
at its peril
All character
only tempered
when put
— to the test
(The New Room: June, 2026)
We got a week to prepare
But let’s be fair
There will be a lot of stretching
Limber up
The music being just right
The stage and you in the spotlight
There can’t be any mistakes nor miss steps
We must rehearse and capture the music with every dramatic
Movement
Finesse
Every twist and turn feeling like a test
You alone will be the outcome of confess
Dance dramatics to the audience
Dance and feel the music
Let your feet and arms be your compass
Think of the orchestra as your Music Director
The rising curtain your chance to fame
It will be your name
Dance like the sun being bright
Let your movement radiate warmth
Show your love for entertainment and the audience
The raw of applause in what you have established and accomplished
Grace and creativity with every step
You are the effect
It’s showtime
Take your places
Spotlight on
Music
Production
Finale
Audience applause
Bow
Curtain down
That’s entertainment
Like a knockout blow
In the final round
The challenges comes
All at once
How you cope will depend on how you see them
It's not always black and white
Pastel shades
Are all abound
You can get through this
Even if you have to tick
Them off one by one
Not everything
Needs to be resolved today
Deal with what you can
Lighter they will become
They say "Rome wasn't build in a day"
Neither was your character
It might look flawed to you
But in you might be
That single trait your foe wish they had
Test your resilience
And surprise yourself
You might see what I see
One day, hopefully some day
©220920151226
My heartbeat rose to your arrival
It regulates itself for it's survival
Your sweet talks flows like a river to my heart
It energizes and heals my broken heart
Life is devoid of love without you
I am still alive breathing only for you
Without love anyone's life can be a living hell
That constantly craves to ring the love bell
I want to get lost in your love symphonies
So that everyday I can organize your love ceremonies
When the cruel force called pain stings me
I call you instantly to save me
'You are mine', it is my declaration to God
No one can reject it, not even your Dad.
I walked through miseries of life
Hoping that one day you will become my wife
A barrage of negative thoughts cannot shake me
As long as you are present with me.
Your presence indeed fills me with courage
That allows me to battle through any stage
God has already written a manuscript
It is none other than our famous love script
Hard days are manufactured to test us
We go through all and no one can stop us
I don't understand why I turned poetic
To possess you, it is not a form of tactic
You are a remote controller to my movements
I can live through any predicaments.
My mind has captured your face through the eye camera
You are going to be eternal there my love Sara.
There’s been a death in the family,
thousands of brain cells expired overnight.
I mourn them of course, think about them,
wonder if they miss me, over there
wherever neurons go when they blink out.
I don’t feel dumb yet
but I will have to test myself regularly.
This poem may be the first experiment
that disproves my theory
that we have far too many brain cells.
I once had a dog with only three legs,
he never seemed to miss the fourth.
At the time I thought
he could even lose another leg
and still find ways
to hop around after a thrown ball.
How do I know I lost those cells?
There are fuzzy patches -
maybe it’s just a passing fogginess.
Maybe I will bounce back,
or on the other hand
I might start chasing rubber balls.
Someone tells you change not because you are not good
But because you do not act the way they think you should
Neither is it because they don’t think you’re not bad
It is just a reaction when they are either mad or sad
A special person in your life ask you to make some change
However uniqueness allows someone to remain the same
You are special, in your own right, just the way you are
Singing out of tune and rhythm while driving in your car
Change however may not be bad in the pursuit of perfection
Sadly that journey isn’t easy and takes much introspection
What are the things you desire, and where do you want to be
Will these things make you truly happy, or only temporarily
Are these things that you can’t live without in the long run
Or temptations of the flesh, that only provide a quick fun
One asks, what does it matter only the test of time will tell
Should I place a Pascal wager to avoid what they call hell
The very thought of that seems a vain attempt at very best
However when the time comes will I did my very own test
Change, Aristotle, said was the only thing that doesn’t change
Clever word circles like these though do very little to explain
Indeed his idea was much more complex than I’ve stated
But, then again most people would say that he’s outdated
To change definitely one of the most difficult things to do
It something that you must really desire, this much is true
By Wayland Bunch 2/14/2013
Today I had a Covid test,
But first, to leave the house,
I had to sort through clothes to find
A normal shirt or blouse.
I ironed one and then I found
A pair of jean Capris,
For what I wear relaxed at home
Is stuff nobody sees.
I do go out to exercise
Each morning, close to dawn,
When clothing meant for working out
Is what I have thrown on.
Yet this would be my first foray
To walk each city street
A half-mile to the test site
From a 3 month long retreat.
Of course, nobody glanced my way
And with my hat and mask,
Anonymously I strode on
To undertake my task.
To be outdoors felt alien,
A bit of needed prep
For to reemerge and join the world
Requires baby steps.
Still clutching the weapon
That laid him in his grave
In the mist created by evil souls
No longer doomed to be his slave
Silky dress woven as black as his evil deeds
Nobody shed a tear for him
No hearts are left to bleed
Rest In Peace is a motto
Not apt for his tombstone
After being stained by his abuse
She’s finally left alone
Burn in hell you bastard
Is a better epitaph
For the first time in her twenty years
Raven let out a haughty laugh
Raven – now free to fly
Forget the past – she’ll have to try
Upon her birth – her mother died
For what he did – his soul will fry
Raven – in your silk black dress
A new life – you can caress
You rid the monster from your nest
You put your courage to the test
Fly free, Raven, fly
“Guilty – not”, the bailiff cried
Bid your tortured soul good-bye
Fly free, Raven, fly
by Joe Flach
For Constance's contest, "Among the Dead"