Long Triple Poems
Long Triple Poems. Below are the most popular long Triple by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Triple poems by poem length and keyword.
Blue
Ocean
Waves crashes
In the shore rocks
Preambling, imminent storm in the sky
Fishes are jumping out of the water
Serving as bait
For hungry
Seagulls
Flock
A
Sailor
Is fighting
To preserve life
Sailing his wood boat toward the beachshore
For Triple Tetractys Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
Second Place
7-8-16
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
It’s up for sale again,
the Long Street house
of our childhood.
This cream chrysalis
once housed our lives.
Fresh paint bandages
deep cracks as old as history.
Inside its rough cast façade,
memory tours each room
and roams the backyard.
The fence pillars I climbed
as a child that seemed
so high, are small.
The almond trees
are gnarled and bent.
The vacant land next door where
rusted out old boilers
grazed like dinosaurs
in the long grass,
has been replaced
by a block of flats.
On the other side,
Mr Oakey's cottage is now
a triple fronted brick veneer.
The secrets that he once hid
in the dark shadows
of vines and overgrown trees
have been sealed beneath
a mote of paving bricks.
Back then his driveway
was a tunnel of treasures,
with tiny bits of coloured glass
and pottery pieces imbedded
in gravel. I would pick them out
and take them home to keep
in a Bex bottle hidden
in a drawer beside my bed.
It was like stolen loot.
After all this time,
our house seems almost
unchanged.
All is familiar. The old
shutters haven't moved
and hang like petrified wings
on the sides of each
front window. Afraid to leave,
you look out from behind
a curtain onto this world
where I am, unable
to get back inside.
Like a circle, day goes to night, night to day, then day to night.
I wonder sometimes if our lives -like days and seasons – might
keep on repeating.
It’s interesting; in some ways I like the idea of
reincarnation and having these endless quests for true love -
heart’s quickened beating.
But what do we know of anything – mere mortals that we be?
All I know for sure is God is out there, and for you and me -
life is so fleeting.
June 10, 2020
for charles messina's Triple Stanza Couplet Tail-Rhyme Poetry Contest
modeled after the rhyme pattern of charles messina's
"so oft I cry" https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/so_oft_i_cry_1256282
Shebyra does not discuss her story with the others; appearing aloof, as a protective shield.
The rest of the court shy away, scared of her mask, as formidable as a chastity belt triple locked under a straight jacket. Shebyra hears their whispers, many directed at her closed countenance.
Peacock flamboyance is not her style; never was; she remains in the shadows watching fools blatantly show their hands. No one approaches which is a relief. She has had enough of one man to last a lifetime, and is unsure
when or where he will appear.
Just the sound of his voice strikes a bit of terror in her. As wife, she
had been his captive for six years. There is a commotion. The king is coming. She draws back into the corners, hovering like a crow who wants to get the shiny thing, but is terrified of consequences.
His voice booms, for he is magnificent and powerful, and the hall trembles. She holds back in the shadows, holding her breath, hoping he will not notice her until she plunges in the knife.
If she gets away with it, this will insure that she is the
one chosen to be the next ruler.
Struggling with the jar of sauce
I remember with a flick of a wrist you got it off
But things are different nowadays
Oh hell I didn't want spaghetti any ways
I am making it on my own!
Flat tires and a car that won't start
I remember how you could fix it all
Now it?s Triple A and a 30-minute wait
Guess I really don't mind being late
I am making it on my own!
Down for the count, in bed with the flu
I remember you taking care of the important things
So I pop a few pills for my aching head
And drag my sorry butt out of bed
I am making it on my own!
The drip drip drip of the leaky faucet
I remember you were the washer king
Pipe wrench and repair kit still in the drawer
Guess it can wait just a few days more
I am making it on my own!
Thunder and lightening, a cold rainy night
I remember hot chocolate and sitting by the fire
So I boil some water and turn up the heat
Grab an extra blanket and put socks on my feet
I am making it on my own!
But when I am overcome with loneliness
And just want someone to hold
An empty bed and a memory just won't do
I need to hear that sweet "Goodnight I love you"
I don't like making it on my own.!
Form:
MIDNIGHT’S BLUE DRESS
Midnight’s blue dress -
modem of her physique,
molded immodestly,
married to monumental
destiny of desires,
elongated as if clinging
to an Amazon warrior.
Blue dress props up
her spectacular breasts,
high and mighty, tinged
with reckless success.
Mortification of the madonna.
Fabrication fraught
with embellishments,
bells and whistles of gold
stitched like chains
into the hem she must wear
in eternity’s flamboyant furnace.
Ferociously blue, lips tremble
and pout, pretending to bleed.
The triple X dress sways
in ebb and flow of the mastery sea,
blowing holes in seasoned captains
who dread the siren’s revenge.
Presidents and dictators fall
at her knees, sliding their beggaries
over velvety weave, thoughtless
to her treachery - they make believe.
Midnight’s blue dress invitation
squashes them all, as
she looks on from the cliff
where eagles ogle their prey.
Ejaculators* best blindfolded as dusk calls.
12/28/2019
Blue Dress Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin
*other than the obvious meaning - to utter suddenly and vehemently
TalAngela JamIN
Dance in the early 19th century
There’s s a woman named TalAngela, complementary
She was a pretty woman she wears a crown
And she surely knows how to get down
TalAngela wore 10 inch heels
While out on the dance floor she would reel
Her step be on point
As the music lit the whole joint
Ragtime music began to gain mainstream respectability
Her desert on the floor the cakewalk, tippy-toe
TalAngela racket, quick foot cuts space
And sideways slides, performed in either place
Three-forth such a gallop in redowa, in the waltz
Ooh we we not getin lost in the Foxtrot
Ahh! Show them girl you can dance
Dancein cause got has a smooth gliding feeling frank
Tango Teas, reneasause got me on my tippy-toes
Ragtime begin to gain mainstream look at her go
Popularity around the late 19th century and into the 1910s.
Redowa triple time come on down girl friend
Spin around three times with me
Grizzly Bear growl at me
Run on them two legs luv
, Foxtrot, Duck Waddle, Bunny Hugs
What kind of gentleman is love?
How bout, it Turkey Trot stepin hard
Ooh, you stepping on the right spot time
Black Bottom move groove N rhythm rhyme
Combined shoulder and hip movements spin that dime
A modified national craze get them hips rotatin rhyme
The Texas Tommy
Swing dance in San Francisco African Follies
The Texas Tommy breakaway step
In an 8-count rhythm move your tummy breath
Ooh! Getting down swing like in African Follies
There was this woman named TalAngela Dolly
And she knew how to get down
TalAngela wore 10 inch heels she does
10/8/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Dedicated VERSE FOR SHASTA SIMMS ANTHOLOGY #2
God bless a woman.You are a mother of God. In Your Presence,deep silence Takes Flight.
You are a true poem, a living verse,and a testament to the Cosmos. You are the Theotokos from the beginning to the end.
Your presence is a true symphony,a sweet melody,that brings harmony and Serenity into the Soul of the Cosmos.
Your laughter is the music of the spheres,dances in the air, and filling our souls with joy beyond contrast.
Your beauty blossoms Like a Fragrant rose.Your eyes are a lake of mystery and desire.You Ignite passion, setting souls on fire, you are truly Indeed a Theotokos
You create by whispering secrets and dreams to the Cosmos.
Your spirit is vibrant and full of life,inspires love, and hope. You, The Theotokos, You Are a Masterpiece of Beauty, standing Tall in Stardust.
Your inner beauty shines with an Everlasting Divine Light. You Move with the Rhythm of Creation.
In triple darkness,you ignite the night with Divine light of truth. Each word you speak is a precious song to The Cosmos.
Your smile lights up the world.
You are the Theotokos, the Mother of God, Your womb is inclusive, never exclusive!
By Chanda Katonga
.
We dance to the bohemian sixties, wild and free
Sang out the teased up high hair trio of three
We call it the triple cat do, the triple cat do.
Stand back as we meow and mew all over you.
I had not met them before, but they were scary to me
So I hid in the closet as they twirled with glee
Their hair piled high on top of each skinny head.
Each one of them looked like she wore a cat, stiff and dead.
Oh, yes, we are dancing the triple cat do, the triple cat do.
Stand back they warned the crowd. We are coming for you!
A taxidermist might have known what to do.
I turned tail and ran from the Triple Cat Doo.