Long Tri Poems

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


May Loc Nuoc

Khi mà ngu?i dân b?t d?u nh?n ra ngu?n nu?c sinh ho?t ngày càng m?t an toàn thì cung là lúc h? b?t d?u chú ý hon d?n nhung dòng thi?t b? có ch?c nang l?c nu?c.

Xem thêm: www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbcg7JZIaaoLH1mPhyRMmZCqGyPsXSOB9

Trên th? tru?ng hi?n nay có hàng ngàn các dòng máy l?c da d?ng c? v? m?u mã l?n tính nang, tuy nhiên chúng ta không th? dánh giá qua v? b? ngoài c?a nh?ng thi?t b? ?y d? bi?t du?c thi?t b? dó có t?t hay không, có cho ra ch?t lu?ng nu?c du?c hay không, mà chúng ta c?n ph?i d?a vào co ch? l?c ? bên trong thi?t b?, cùng v?i h? th?ng l?c nu?c c?a s?n ph?m.

V?y thì khi mu?n ch?n mua 1 dòng s?n ph?m l?c phù h?p v?i nhu c?u s? d?ng nu?c c?a gia dình mình thì nên ch?n dòng máy nào? Khi mà trên th? tru?ng có quá nhi?u dòng máy d? cho b?n l?a ch?n.

Không ch? nh?ng dòng máy l?c nu?c nhu là Nano Geyser TK5, hay là dòng TK8 m?i du?c yêu thích c?a thuong hi?u Geyser mà dòng máy l?c Nano Geyser Ecotar 4 cung vô cùng n?i b?t. Ðây cung là dòng máy l?c trong s? nh?ng dòng máy c?a Geyser có kh? nang l?c nu?c vô cùng t?t.

Xem thêm: www.facebook.com/maylocnuocnanogeysertk88loithehemoi/

Không ph?i ai cung bi?t 1 di?u, dó là ecota là v?t li?u x? lý t?ng h?p do t?p doàn Geyser nghiên c?u và phát tri?n lên. chính là v?t li?u da nang nh?t có kh? nang x? lý du?c nhi?u thành ph?n t?p ch?t ? trong nu?c, mà ch? c?n nh? m?t v?t li?u duy nh?t này. V?t li?u da nang Ecotar có th? x? lý du?c toàn b? các thành ph?n kim lo?i n?ng cung nhu là các ch?t hóa h?c d?c h?i khác nhau nhu là thành ph?n Amoni, s?t, nitrat và nhi?u ch?t khác gây h?i d?n s?c kh?e c?a ngu?i s? d?ng. Chính vì v?y, v?t li?u Ecotar dã giúp cho dòng máy l?c Ecotar c?a thuong hi?u Geyser tr? nên vô cung uu vi?t và d?c bi?t n?i b?t.

Bên ra thì dòng máy l?c Ecotar 4 t?i các c?a hàng May loc nuoc Geyser tai Dong Nai còn có kh? nang c?i thi?n ngu?n nu?c m?t cách vô cùng hi?u qu?, và giúp ngu?n nu? có m?t v? thanh mát t? nhiên. Chính vì ngu?n nu?c ngay sau khi du?c x? lý, luôn có du?c s? tinh khi?t tuy?t d?i và v? ng?t mát vô cùng t? nhiên. V?y nên n?u s? d?ng nu?c du?c l?c ra t? máy l?c Nano Geyser Ecotar 4 thu?ng xuyên d? dun n?u th?c ph?m thì ch?t lu?ng b?a an c?a gia dình b?n cung s? du?c c?i thi?n và ngon mi?ng hon dáng k?. Nh? vào nh?ng uu di?m dó, nên dòng máy l?c Nano Geyser Ecotar 4 cao c?p này, luôn dón nh?n du?c s? yêu thích và uu tiên l?a ch?n t? phía khách hàng.
Form: Bio


Premium Member On Halloween Night: the Mail Must Get Thru

First day on the job, to deliver the mail,I got the nightshift. Ah! Come on! 
I drew the job, to drive to the next town, thru The Haunted Forest Prime!
You know the one, yep, The One, used in the famous ‘Wizard of Oz’!
It's Haunted, You Know! As they reminded me so, for the hundredth time!

But Don’t Be Afraid! They said, the truck carries a reliable computer guide.
Those always work, one did smirk. Plus, the truck’s full of ghost fighting gear.
They said Never Fear! Their thoughts would be near! As they’d stay in touch!
They loaded the truck with Holy Water, Not forgetting a ‘blessed silver cross’!

Then came Rabbits foots, silver bullets, and all. Yea! You know, What I mean!
They’d put aboard, all sorts of things considered really good luck, it seems.
Then they piled all the mail into a pouch, Plus more charms, and magic aplenty. 
Yea Right! I said, as the sun went down, and the mist rolled out, of the forest!

Oh! Did I state that it’s All Hollow’s Eve, and the veil is thin between worlds!
The prediction is, the Undead from Potters Hill, will be extra bad, they fear!
A new Sorcerer’s in town, and he’s been fooling around, here and everywhere!
Dracula’s here, he’s searching near, he wants Van Helsing’s famous daughter!

But, Rabbit feet don’t save Rabbits, and Wicked Witch’s control lesser magic. 
So They said speed is the key. Don’t worry! The little truck reaches twenty-three!
Down hill is best, moving roots can trap and flying monkeys are mean, aplenty.
Plus they put weights on the wheels so I won’t get carried away, near so easily!

But keep foremost, in mind, the credo, you know, ‘The Mail Must Get Thru!’
Be strong in thought and spirit, they sang as they ran to the buildings’ safety as…
Eyes peared out of the forest! What? You thought me, dumb as a box of rocks? 
Never fear, My Dear! I took the freeway around it! Oh! And I have a surprise!

Yep! I’m Van Helsing’s Famous Daughter, who’s embarked on this ride!
The trip back will be mine to command! Just think what you’d miss…
If I hadn’t said this… And they’ll be expecting me to come from this side!
So bow your heads, and say a prayer, for my Tri-um-phant trip, My Dears!

And as they say ‘The Mail Must Get Thru!... Well, it will, at least this year!

Premium Member Retep Gargano RX

Ciro  Gargano his Detroit hitman faked their deaths after attempting to impersonate my uncle bob satterfield long lost bastard sons identity my uncle bob satterfield didn't have a long list bastard son bob was born in 1923 my father was born in 1942 sadly Ciro Gargano Donald massimo pellegren hacked into my life obsessed with impersonating me killing me now they are both old men living in hiding needing medicine medical treatments for leukemia bone cancer neither men are able to receive treatments they already broke into my home searching for medications breaking into homes of seniors for medical treatment I pray Retep Gargano is us able to contact his loved ones to get the help he needs it is truly sad This obsessional diabolical hatred to my life resulted in thus madness after they used up all if my traumatic brain injury claim they needed more because I exposed the identity theft the data breaches in Tampa general hospital imposters impersonating me for Retep Gargano truly sad This man is now bed ridden after faking his death the insurance monies used up paying dealers killers he probably figured he'd be dead by now but God is keeping him alive in pure suffering hacking into Florida medicaid system tri care Peter Gargano has been surviving by fraud senior scams are serious stop victimization of disabled elderly persons Peter Gargano invested 47 thousand dollars from my traumatic brain injury claim annuity payments structured settlement into Myerlee Pharmaceutical fort myers this insurance fraud mail fraud wire fraud forced peter gargano into faking his death is now in hiding dying so is his brother ciro gargano and Donald Pellegren all in hiding from horrid crimes of murder mass murder how do wiseguys hitmen retire with no medical treatment after killing so many people never realized they would someday be old sick needing care the garment pension all gone used car lot all gone they attack the elderly mostly women veterans disabled persons home invasions for prescriptions medications selling to retired mobsters in threatening my life in Florida RX PETE MYERLEE INVESTMENT 

Stop retired hitmen from exploiting 
victimization of disabled elderly 
seniors in Florida RX RETEP MYERLEE
Investments
God Bless The United States of America
Form: Naat

Snow Showers Earlier Today December 9th 2020 Yielded Negligible Accumulation

Snow showers earlier today December 9th, 2020 yielded negligible accumulation

Though anyone who saw
and/or watched local news would be more wise
the brief flurry of crystalline precipitation
came as a complete surprise,
cuz yours truly prefers
getting strangled courtesy neckties
versus being given spoiler alert
subsequently forced to give reciprocal highfives.

I generally skirt tracking the weather,
nevertheless the missus would pantomime,
née blurts out with glee
meteorological conditions occurring here
out the skies above second Street
within Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.

No rhyme nor reason prevails
necessitating yours truly to hear and/or see
what mother nature doth hold in store
concerning (Delaware, Chester,
and Montgomery) tri county locale
sometimes loosely referred to
as comprising Delaware Valley

a geographical area coterminous with
metropolitan statistical area (MSA)
and broader combined statistical area (CSA),
and composed of counties located in
Southeastern Pennsylvania, South Jersey,
Delaware, and the Eastern Shore of Maryland.

As a lifetime resident - 19473 zip code
regarding aforementioned place name,
I can ofttimes intimate
how the forecast will bode
especially if adequate hours spent outdoors,

more so when yours truly
lived at 3224 Level Road
which less likely as ole man winter
huffs and puffs with braggadocio
rarely ripping, riffing, and riding
piggyback with nor'easter.

Interestingly enough global warming
affected dramatic climate change
during course of mine lifetime,
where Currier and Ives rural
linkedin with good n plenti grange,
where agrarian lifestyle might seem strange
to urban outfitters constituting population.

Truth be told, I fondly remember those days of yore
when countless unbroken acres of greenery
whereat in Arcola a cider mill vestige
of American/British Revolutionary War
perhaps e'en centuries before frequented by troubadour
named Shakespeare, quite sad

to narrate hundreds of years postwar
(meaning that brouhaha incorporating
Declaration of Independence)
long since derelict and sold
possibly by family with surname Knorr,
(methinks his first name Ignoramus nickname Ig)
who strongly exhibited demeanor of Eeyore.

Rearview Mirror

Rear view mirror

Objects, objectively put, are  closer  
than they  appear. But it doesn’t say it all. 
With the fair signs that spewed  forth once turning to
a slew of  pre-twitter  pseudo- tweets since.

 I once put it down In form Octa-Tri :
 In rhyme scheme:  aab, bb, ccc .

(“  At the wheel 
At night. Uneasy feel. 
Narrow misses, though, in nobody’s midst.

Rows of reflectors mark lanes glaring through the mist, 
Comforting  coolness and sultry night coexist .

Cell service zones change, ding-dongs the phone
Heart fluttering alone
Night unknown”.)

A row of  earthy  images it failed 
rather than showed ,images  with  eerie  
 librations and weary nutations  .Which 
was not  Physics,  but physiognomy of  life.

Like when bashed  by  kiddy badasses  and  
basic arithmetic, or when up higher ,
combative but  math a behemoth 
all the same, and  guided perfunctorily
 often, and rarely with the right intent.

In  the  peccadilloes- round,  the  Tintern
 Abbey Sycamore also loomed dour sans 
creativity , but the three trees on 
the low sky  made sense , and then on to  
T.ds. equations and tedious times 
 soured by  sleep and steep sloth.

Ingenious in fair measure , now turning 
ingenuous on the proving grounds , after, 
 in the space of a couple of cusps of 
light and sound   mom was  no more  and we  
whimpered  and  simpered under a dad who cared 
 but did not seem to,  in  his straight-faced  mode

Then  came  falsely  flashing ,  faintly  fuming ,
 slapdash  years of machines and mega hertz,
 eggs and vegs, sex and senescence to remain 
for ever weighed down by the wayside whey.

Bringing-up-kids-banality apart
 ( fed mainly on meds for just cough that recurred);  
 preferring  palm-frond’s loftiness  cum  
deprivation to  urban  up-for-grabs  
benefaction;  and the mess of docs, deaths  
and a mossy crock of living pain since.

And all the dicey way , never  patted 
but  p(f)anned; tweaked , untweaked ; harmed, ex-harmed; 
 banked on , debunked ;  short-changed, sort-of-changed ; 
lumbering on , alive and a-slumbering  
and if anything  wondering if it’s
 not  all  the mirror’s prim fault 
which never once showed my face.


Cuba

Cuba…Mamma Mia…like most of the Caribbean; part of the 1492 slam…
Slavery, sugar plantations… invasions, upheaval, independence…
Then the American kisses; with a slight twist…who initiated the ’disses’…?
Was it Blaine…is he insane…?
Was it Marti…the heart of the party…?
Or Teller…many say he was the real speller…
Or Estrada Palma…could he have been the calmer…?
Was it San Martin…any questions of his parting…?
Or was it Batista…is he the real twister…?
With his interwove of expansion…then stagnation and dissatisfaction…
Coupled with his increased economic regulation plan…
Was this the spike for the revolution…?
Enter Castro; was he the real maestro…his thoughts, his plans; communize the land…?
Centralize, non-democratize…ostracize, reorganize…
The politics…were they laden in tricks…?
The CIA; not here to stay… but what role did they play…?
When they realize the RAF size…what will they emphasize…?
With great plans to defeat…did they end in retreat…?
Now with Eisenhower…speculations of a great shower…
But after only months…fixation shift to ouster hunts…
Severed diplomatic relations…the new sensation…
Impositions of trade embargo…the ‘Fargo’ in my cargo…?
The ‘Bay of Pigs’…will you understand the gigs…?
The ‘Cuban Missile Crisis’…what was this Tri-fit…?
The military games…were these substances in flames…?
For a superpower war…or the everlasting scars…?
Of suppression, political persecution…migration, and interventions…
In Angola, and Ethiopia…from Nicaragua to North Africa…
To the Congo…to some say; ‘Jah Mek Yah’…?
Cooperation with Russia…was this the real crusher…?
The mid-eighties…the beginning of their ending gaiety’s…?
The dissolving of the Soviet Union…continuation of the country’s isolations…
Reduced rations…the new fashion…
Unpainted buildings…now the in-thing…
Old vehicles with limited repairs…any scares…?
Lack of electricity…did it colour the ethnicity…?
A country on the verge…is there a new urge…?
Tourist attraction…one logical concoction…
Amidst the flow…of system many Cubans know…
The US now attests…it is in the country’s interest…
Cuba has withstood the test…put the embargo to rest…?
Form: ABC

Est'Bel Strolls

Urges ushered Est’bel out of her abode –
a cottage cobbled together from cobwebs and clapboard – 
and she scuttled forth,
her nesty hair tousled
by a leaf-laced breeze

In her bony hands she clutched
dregs of a nightmeg broth
in a porcelain jar stoppered
by a coffinwood shard

Her bare feet stepped on thorny twigs
but she felt them not,
for her soles had been hardened
by countless treks across hot coals
washed up from stygian shoals

Leftward she turned,
meandering down the narrowing, twisting path,
where uprooted mandrake tendrils
clutched at her anorexic ankles,
while ravens pecked at her frayed follicles,
until she snatched a leaf
from a passing philodendron,
folding it into a tri-cornered hat
and plunking it atop her pate,
rakishly askew

Dewey sap from twisty-trunked trees
dripped onto the nape of her gnarly neck
and a raven on a nearby branch
cawed his amusement,
earning him her owlish scowl

She spied a row of rotting poppies
and plucked a bunch,
sticking them into a crevice of her hat,
then stepped onto a walkway of cracked shale slabs,
which shunned her footprints,
replacing them with snail streaks
to mark her passing

She made her way to a listing tombstone
atop a gnarled knoll encased in gelid moonbeams
and fringed by shushing sawgrass

She took a small vial of indigo glass
from beneath her shabby shawl
and pulled out a stopper made
from a finger bone of an unfaithful lover
whose pickled tongue hung from a
silver chain around her neck

She poured the contents of the vile vial 
into the porcelain jar and
listened to the fizz.
It subsided into sloshes,
reminding her of the sounds
issuing from demented shells
snatched from the forlorn shores
of stygian shoals

She gaped at the sky
as an owl flew past the moon,
stirring the dark craters,
which broke up into swirling spirals,
sucking lunar beasts beneath the surface,
where they dissolved in the ceaselessly sliding sands

And Est’bel raised the jar to her lips
and drank a toast to the moon,
and awaited the enshadowed shades
drifting down the snail-slimed pathway,
propelled by a leaf-laced breeze

The God Particle

I asked the desert 
 to carry me from this place
 of the Qubbanet El-Qirud’ infertile soil 
 suddenly, that whisper of wind
 took my hand, and walked
 along and alone with me
 I, heard a voice, in tones of angels
 “we see your beautiful life within”
 one that we do not understand
 yet, I do not remember this life
 as having beauty
 I see a life that I have
 wasted thoroughly; jealously
 and unrighteousness ruled
 my empty daze, before
 this; please do something
 do look closely into me
 I asked this of both the angels
 and my desert friend
 the desert smiled…
 as all of Heaven’ Angels
 swooned and said, “your life,
 from infinity you have come”
 an infinite and [i'n(y)o?om?r?b?l]
 probability, willingly mixing
 yourself in all particles of life; you are of
 infinite scintillae; that blend
 into; the “special purpose”; that you
 is urbane, decipherable, and vestal
 becoming a fertile soil, to accept
 those ill wills and innumerable sins
 of humanity, all whom have broken the trust
 of that which was given…
 impurity therefore, is humankind’ “Portae Lucis” 
 for in the realization of;
 you gain your last chance
 for a one time, "Contact with Eternity"
 you are but dirty and
 impure and infertile; I, have cried
 upon my friend; this barren desert
 begging to become, a participle
 of a fertile land; enabled to produce
 squalls and outcomes, and sublimed sulfur
 I will enjoy, these powerful urges, these
 lovingly nudged immoralities within me
 and when, I finish with the each of you
 I shall enjoy a long and lovely “Desert Sorcery”
 verdancy, will be the [?ks'pe? tri?e?t] of thee
 across this entire Earth; out of me
 the sons and daughters of inequity will be judged
 and their eternal ends will be welcomed
 each of those who is as Adam, and Eve; will be left
 out of a home, upon this Eden’ mothered globe
 you, who have made burgoo of your lives
 know this to be your truth
 those who have suffered the dirt and impurity
 of the oppressors will be made free, instantaneously!
 Oh my lord! Once again, remake me as thee!
 and reproduce me, as the very last; God Particle!

Pouch Poetry 10 - 13

10.
the  apparent golden pot that i thought 
to be the underneath of a kadam-tree 

in the dim light i can notice that 
the stars in the sky are disappearing  

this session of poetry 
is coming to an end 

now where would i
go 

to that little home 

the home 
a tiny word of 4 letters 

within that home 
the children are giggling 
playing … and making funs 

when i entered 
with a tri-cycle in hand 
for them 

i have been perplexed 
many old persons are waiting there 
to shake hands with me

11.
almost most of my desires  
are very much hurt

to show it publicly 
i wrap bandages 
around all over my body 

i keep on the stage-drama  

in our programme of reading poetry 
tea is served twice 
current has gone off for three times 
for four times the mobiles ring
 
to pick up love  
some people think about returning back 
from today’s dais to the ancient stage 
of performing folk-drama 

then they are also sympathetic 
to my sufferings

12.
everyday 
on my way to return home from the school 
when my mom took hold of my hands

i could see in my body
the dancing of an unforgettable 
aura 

even now that mystical halo is walking 
on the leaves of the trees 
to fulfil my mornings 

that wayfaring along the road 
is ringing far and far-off 

thus taking bath in every day’s  
dust smoke hue and cry 

many such love 
gradually gets aged 

is it true 
in the long run 
i too
would be the ingredient 
of a fairy-tale

just because i love 
that paddy field 

some time later 
she will also become 
human 

13.
then she will make all of us  
join her walking 

those inmost feeling 
those memories meditations

the loneliness  and solitude…

sans the touch of the imagination of
a crater… 
a creator…

this blunder… 
this socially outcast white …
 
this type of uneven… 
and irrelevance…
 
sume words 
when peep in the mind
i surprise to see that 
it’s ten to 2 at night
 
then in the balcony 
my father is crying
 
he always notices some grave-yard men 
in front of him 

and sheds tears

Only One Fan

I been there when you decided to pick up a pen,
When your thoughts run out in the ink sun,
You decided to walk out when I told you got this then,
Dan I believe in you sun, you got talent that's needs improvement,
They say you won't make it but I seen what you done,
The words express sun run in the mind,
Now lately you been missing son,
You're hard to find.

Please don't back down now you're here,
Look around your writing has brong,
Your talent is showing but the topics are long,
An all I see is fear here in the castle,
Why Aquarius abandon the tri,
A plot to rebuild the great oh why, a
Capture Capsule Cap your sands of time,
Now your pacing to carpet diem
Racing in a different direction not my way,
I mean you need to slow down and chill,
Time is speaking loud sound the alarm,
Your underrated but to me your my favorite,
For your poems relate lately I been down,
I feel depression is walking in again,
I cheer myself up with your writing,
But you too are facing borderline depression waiting to break,
To feel atlas punishment again,
To feel lonely in the wake,
Sleep feels better mate but wait life is much better living,
Then being depress Dan you used to be the man,
Now I see you as pathetic loser who lost his drive.


Lately I been writing to you, trying to talk to you,
No reply on none of your media sites,
For months your pissing me off for I want to meet you,
My girlfriend Will love it too she'll do anything,
Trust me I seen but ain't what I'm thinking to say,
You probably think I'm guy for that line,
Rewind back I can show you the brighter side,
Open up your eyes to beautiful bright skies,
This world with no lies that lie in the mouth of our young,
Decide To choose but not suicide dude.

I'm Your one fan who writes to you,
I'm Your one fan who sees the insensitive,
I'm Your one fan who wishes we talk,
I'm Your one fan who writes to you but your unaware of it in your work,
I'm Your one fan who's right in front of you but Your busy not paying attention.


Written: 2/16/16

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