Long Try out Poems
Long Try out Poems. Below are the most popular long Try out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Try out poems by poem length and keyword.
The afternoon's a fire, but my head still frozen to the pillow.
The fan blows soft and I lay softer.
Without a signifier I'll get up for the 4th hour in a row,
I'll stay ignorant to all the day can offer.
That's the sixth day out of eight I've laid, late.
Fostering doubt.
Guess I'll try out gout.
Stuck in the bed that I've made.
They took the trees down on Spring Garden
"Regrowth is a process" I said lying
I remember stretching out my arms when
I spread out these roots of mine.
Branching out, I watched bark harden
As we were dying on the vine.
I used to see the pasture line
Far beyond what I can describe
These days I just can't seem to find-
The right words
Make all the difference.
All your sins laid out before you, which ones would you keep?
What misdeed really makes you proud?
I know you have one too, that ball of black down in the heart, deep.
But you just won't say out loud
It's okay, take your time
It's a tough question I know
Could be a theft, maybe a lie.
Could be something darker though.
I betrayed the one I loved
I did my very best impression of Brutus
It's what I'm most shameful of
When I broke the trust between the two of us
But it set off an avalanche
That broke the mountain, truly
Memories of our last dance
Taunt and tease me cruelly
But then I saw another chance
So I reached out and pulled it to me
I was looking to come to terms
With the people I hurt and the lessons I learned
When I saw the sun set on the skyline through someone else's lens
And I waited for my new life
And my old one to end
It inspired me to live again
To put the past behind
Take the opportunity to make amends
"Regrowth is a process"
I mean it this time.
So this is my confessional.
Every passage is a penance.
I put myself on trial.
With every line a sentence.
No doubt it was bad, I couldn't prove you wrong.
Afterward it really dug into me
And I tortured me for so long
But there's a lot to personality,
People are complex
And when you do the work it seems
Your personage resets
So judge me all you want you see
I'll gladly be the black sheep.
Because without it all where would I be?
All my sins laid out before me, which one would I keep?
I think I'll just keep all of me
Add #1
‘Kimmy's Bliss’ hair and nails will be coming and soon,
Find it easy to cry, hate to howl at the moon?
Well the ‘Kimmy's Bliss’ promise is "sheer hair delight,"
You will marvel that prices are not out of sight.
Add #2
‘Kimmy's Bliss’ isn’t flashy, a star in a jar,
In a ‘Hollywood Second’ blow past highest bar,
She's an artist of fashion, a Queen on ‘Hair Street,’
Watch your blues and self-doubts all retreat in defeat.
Add #3
Are you longing for Spring, colors float in the air,
‘Kimmy's Bliss’ is the answer for people who care,
With new color de rigueur and hairdos divine,
You will want to make Kimmy your new Valentine!
Add #4
Find here chemistry, knowledge, skill, passion, and art,
You can get them here blended or served a la carte,
‘Kimmy's Bliss’ is new product, a great hair care gel,
And her "Wow!" "Highest Ratings!" should all doubts dispel!
Add #5
‘Kimmy's Bliss’ means to serve you, to integrate dream,
Won't be leaving you bankrupt a bit down the stream,
Multi-talented people can help you reach goal,
You can walk in divided, return to life whole!
Add #6
‘Kimmy's Bliss’ “Boss” writes poems (like this) for a treat,
And she’s happy, for now he is off of the street,
Answers phones and, if challenged, writes ‘Rhymes for a Dime!’
Hint: you ‘like’ them, might give you a discount next time.
Add #7 (Abekah Emmanuel of PoemHunter.com inspired this one!)
Seems like drums in the jungle are restless tonight,
You’ve got urge to break free, indulge new appetite,
Well, let Kimmy's Bliss' skills help you blaze a new trail,
Set aside a bleak life or try out one less pale.
Brian Johnston
July 29, 2017
Poet's Notes:
My wife Kimmy will be opening a new hair styling and nail shop in the near future in Sunnyvale, CA and I am trying to help out by writing short poems that I may use as newspaper advertisements. This poem is a collection of mini-adds I have written so far. Please tell us what you think. Any and all suggestions will be treasured! Ha!
Also: a note of gratitude to the old ‘Burma Shave’ adds along the highways of my youth and, of course, to Abekah Emmanual of Ghana.
When I'm Alone - Poem by Lora Colon
When I'm alone I stare at the sky,
Then I reach for the moon with my hand,
If I could steal it for just one night,
Could I then make Heaven understand?
Just as the moon's radiance would be missed
If it were to abandon its realm,
My ship travels with no guiding light,
Too long I've stood alone at the helm
When I'm alone I cannot believe
There's a God who feels pity for me,
Like a ship that's left to navigate
In the darkness, I am lost at sea
I don't ask for much to call my own,
A hand to hold, a comforting word,
Does the forest not rejoice to hear
The sweet song of just one faithful bird?
When I'm alone I find no reason
To greet the dawning day with a smile,
I see no sense in praying for strength
To carry my cross another mile
If it's a sin to forsake all faith
In a caring God, then cast your stone,
No pain or punishment could be worse
Than the pain I feel when I'm alone
Lora Colon
You Speak and I Listen
You speak and I listen:
Here’s message from bird, (1)
A song that might please you,
A hint you’ve been heard.
We want to assure you
That you're not alone,
But dressing like bird suits
Your camouflaged moan.
You say no one hears you
But whole forest dreams
At call of a blind bird,
Leaves drop into streams:
There’s torrential flooding
Of red, brown, and gold,
Whenever you tremble,
Whenever you're cold.
For forests have tears too
Though you cannot see,
All nature is brimming
With God’s sympathy.
The scraps that you live on
That keep you alive,
Are pointers to largesse
Whereby you might thrive.
There’s warmth in a stranger
For those in real need
You doubt? Try out my yard,
There’s lots of bird seed.
But let me remind you
In case you forgot
A bird has real freedom
That’s not afterthought.
Your parents are blameless
Child saw them as God,
Forgiveness the answer
To self-imposed fraud.
Brian Johnston
May 31, 2016
Poet’s Notes:
(1) In the last year Lora rescued a baby catbird and fed and protected it until it was ready to leave home. I think I have channeled the catbird’s voice very well in this Echo Poem...
Hi. Hello. How are you? I know you don't like me but listen to me. Please listen.
Look into my eyes and tell me what you see. You know I like you so why are
you holding back? Us. Together. I'm pretty sure if I were to hold you in my
arms and let our problems drift into the abyss all that would be left between us
is infinite happiness. Romeo and Juliet would respect what we have because
they know that the way I look at you it would make their relationship seem like
puppy dog love. Can you not tell what I feel for you? Look into my eyes and tell
me what you see.
Speechless Couple. Let's start again. Hi. Hello. I miss you. Why do you ignore
me? I've tried calling you and I know that you have your phone in your hands
'cause I can see your updates yet you choose to let the phone ring. Lady if you
don't want me just say so. I know actions speak louder than words but you
have a fire burning in you and you don't want to show it. Well I have a dark
void inside me that's needs the light that you have. Look let's not get carried
away but I need to see you one more time. This time without the people telling
us how to date, without the people telling you about me or me about you. If
you know I love you then let's not get carried away. Don't try out 2 and 2
together because trust me with outsiders you will get 6. I know you still have
feelings for me. You don't show off what you have. Is it only for my eyes to
see? If you were to look into my eyes could you tell me what you see?
Speechless Couple. I'll stop trying now. If you believe that we've reached our
limit even though the sky is and we haven't reached that yet its fine. Lady just
know that I am The Man Who Can't Be Moved. I'll be waiting exactly where our
eyes met for the first time. Speechless Couple. The couple that no one ever
talks about because they don't have the words to explain them or the people
to compare them to.
Speechless Couple.
2014/05/17
Unfinished poem.
Here on poetrysoup, the newest poem,
pops up on-screen
like the latest off-shoot, or newborn babe
or like a newest floral bud,
in the orchards of poetry.
Or like a fresh wave of words
crashing and cresting upon the turf
For all and sundry to view, enjoy and surf!
Or ha ha, even like linguistic kernels
that pop like popcorn
in the crockery of poetrysoup
with different flavors to choose from,
to reveal what's been cooking in the minds.
Some indeed spiced-up,
some spicy
some acidic or buttery
all of 'em', more or less with melody.
Or the newest poetry is
to put it more exquisitely,
is a fragrant flower just bloomed
in the bedecked bowers of poetry
Or to say, each latest poem pops on screen
Like pop goes the weasel
For poems pop up like meerkats
but on the lookout for friends instead of foes.
Ah, and then they might wait
for the honey and jam of comments
and perhaps even the bitter gourd of criticism,
for healthy constructive criticism
is like any bitter pill vital to health.
You're lucky if the doctors of poetry
refrain from prescribing chits
of bitter pills to swallow,
Or opted for sugar-coated ones
for which you heave a sigh of relief
you didn't receive, blunt sharp critique!
As I prefer sugar coated pills in all matters.
Yet if they do administer the wrong dose
out of sheer bias and prejudice,
you can always give them a taste of their own medicine,
if you wish to be vengeful and impudent
Or you can forgo, overlook and be lenient
For my poetry is meant to be tasteful
and gentleness is nice.
Harshly insensitive reviews can leave
a sour after taste in the mouth.
As I'm habituated to taking sugar coated pills.
A biased person could never appreciate my poetry.
Let's taste and try out all the varied variety of curries and broths of muse out here...
Let's all appreciate the different flavours that simmer in the poetry soup melting pot,
many cooking up delectable foods for thought...
So, thanks for the distractions
But I need to pursue my passions
What paths am I on again?
My universe was turned upside down
I gave you my hearts crown
And you were too busy filling your purse
In other words, can I get a reimburse?
Of the curse of knowing you
Time cannot be reverse
Where to Start?
You may argue that it was my choice to go rescue
Because I thought I saw, strength, value, and virtue
That’s why I was into and wanted to continue
Now I see though that your love was never true
It was all just a waste; my heart needs to be erased
My hearts broken and needs to be awoken
Where to Start?
I need a nurse, for these symptoms are getting worse
But the dispatcher only wanted to send a hearse
Because I’m frozen and instead I’m being led in a sled
Consumed by this blacken cavity tissue
Because girl you are my issue
My love became the smoke of a cigar
Forgotten memoirs of a fallen star
Thrown down and drowned in a shadowy well
Farewell. No misspell. I meant ‘Go to hell!’
Here’s my eulogy. Wish you never met me
Thanks for the remembrance of you
Where to start?
She a player who’s queued for her next match
Wanting to try out her newest patch
Then taking aim
And ------- until there is nothing else to game
The body counts
Something is wrong with her account
Where to start?
She needs to go find a new toy
Something like a little solider boy
Melting all the plastic
Making all the room toxic
Did someone call for the medic?
The verdict, horrific
My empty cavity
Just a tragic memory
Where to start?
As there will always be this shadow behind my ---
To harass
As a reminder of our past
So, why do the nice guys finish last?
Because of you!
Where to start?
In pain, I cried
Being electrified
In this hospital room
Called life’s classroom
I’ll need a qualified doctor
Something to monitor
This surgery of your robbery
From the treasury
Of my heart
Where to start?
Form:
911
By Franklin Price
09/11/2024
Three and twenty years ago
Terror rang its awful bell
In the midst of New York City
The great and tall twin towers fell
Slammed by hijacked liners
Deviated from their flight
Took our independent nation
From the day into the night
Thousands died there on that day
At the Pentagon we lost
A field in Pennsylvania
Also added to the cost
There was no nation there to fight
These were terrorists with dough
Billionaires had funded them
What to do, we did not know
We went to war with countries
Targeted Iraq, Iran
To make it even better
We fought in Afghanistan
For over twenty years
We sent our soldiers over there
Many killed and wounded
And our fighting more than fair
Since we did not fight the country
But the terrorists within
We could not hurt the population
To damage them would be a sin
There was no way to win the war
We finally pulled out everyone
The terrorists took over
Now its worse than when begun
We are protectors of the world
Have been since World War Two
Give of ourselves to everyone
We should try out something new
Trillions of dollars is our debt
From giving everything away
We borrow bucks from China
Who may own us one fine day
Communism and democracy
Capitalism one and all
The ones who have the money
Will cause the other ones to fall
We've donated to our allies
Just to keep them as a friend
While our own go cold and hungry
Which has come to no good end
The USA's our country
Home of the brave and free
A promise land for citizens
That's including you and me
We welcome here most anyone
Who contributes to our way
Terrorists and criminals
Cannot be added to the fray
Our borders need protecting
Not to let the bad ones here
There's a qualifying process
For rejecting when they're near
We all need to pull together
Or we'll lose this once great land
Nine Eleven is still with us
We must address it hand in hand
by Bob Moore ©2018
I don’t like Ikea, the place is like a maze
if my wife was not with me, I’d be lost in there for days
following the arrows, as you go from place to place
people must have hours to spare, as they stroll at a funeral pace.
they all walk at 3 abreast, leave no room for getting past
then you see a little gap, and you squeeze through at last
and there’s that bloody arrow, stretching on around the bend
from the front door to the backdoor, feels like it will never end
just want to buy a little thing, but once you’re on that track
there is nowhere to pay for it, the checkouts at the back
the arrows on the pathway, so in circles you must go
and try to pass the women, as they stroll along so slow.
Through lounge rooms, bedrooms, kitchens, and all rooms in between
people try out beds and chairs, see sights you’ve never seen
flat packs fill up shelves and shelves, of things which you can build
a wonderland for the handyman, whose dreams are now fulfilled
You just need your screwdriver, flat and Phillips head,
a hammer and a pencil, all instructions can be read
you’ll soon get the hang of it, all the pieces together go
three or four “Billy” bookshelves, and you will be a pro.
And now the end has come in sight, or is it a mirage
I can see the checkout, but flat pack shelves are looming large
we will just look in aisle ten, she says without a smile
there may be things, that I can use, it will only take a while
Now we’re in the carpark, at last I’m feeling free
but I’m looking at the ground. I’m lost, cause I can’t see
the arrows I am looking for, to find which way to go.
but I’ll be ok as soon as I, can find my car I know.
Time for us to go to Lindt, the chocolate shop across the way
and she will buy some chocolate, so I’ll come another day
That’s not the only reason, I know she likes them too
and she needs me there to lift those packs, it’s the least that I can do.
Locked in the largest room of the palace,
you live days in dire existence,
sunshine caresses you with sun rays,
breeze makes you breathe life;
anything at the swish of a wand is
given to you, lonely princess of Wales!
He has no loyal blood in him,
and as many children as you desire,
He can give you-at least two.
A boy who looks exactly like him,
a girl as gorgeous as you...
he can feel inside you'll be his.
Your jealous Queen, can scream her brain out
and tell you, " I don't like that bodyguard is a joker;
he's too poor and childish, he thinks he's another prince,
but he has nothing to give you...stay in your room,
silly Rapunzel! He won't ever climb to this balcony:
your hair is too short and brittle! How can he do that? "
You'll try to convince her that he is a great guy,
" But mom, he loves me more than anybody! "
" Love without money is a tree without fruit!
Riches can buy many jewels! You're the next Queen!
Her anger will shout her up and all will turn to gloom...
while he waits outside and freezing he rubs his red hands.
Her slickness won't last, she must have a weak spot;
if he courts her with his boyish charms, she'll become soft
and forget that a pretty princess adores him and woos him.
" I got her on my strings...she'll be my animated puppet!"
Infatuation can be blinder than love; he will get her very drunk,
and have her thinking for a minute that she can have him!
The princess and the bodyguard hug; they laugh aloud...
while the Queen sleeps on the sofa and snores, " She's too drunk,
let her sleep for hours; we are going to elope and live happily!
Ah! Such an unfair and vain mother she is! She'll realize that
even money isn't everything...if love palpitates in the heart! "
Try out his trick: be that bodyguard who outsmarted
the Queen and if you get lucky, you must thank him "
Pick: Rapunzel
Written on 2/2/2016
I
Ah what thrill’s life if guts we’ve to get lost!
To lose way once in a while is no sour sauce—
But way to live. Lose way haply pay cost,
A stone that goes about gathers good moss.
Let challenges dare to confront man’s life,
Life gets lived well in its serpentine length,
If it walks on edge of what we call strife—
A way to reach height, due depth, all the strength.
Two ways define passage of life to track:
Easy winds an oft trodden path to walk,
But he that creates one, confronts roadblock,
Enjoys thrills of the testing times to crack.
Life’s not to carry keys for the locked doors,
But to find it when faced with locks on course.
II
So, look for keys when needed, not before,
Nor resolve a problem ere facing it,
Nor care to know what future has in store,
Cook your own dish, enjoy it as ye eat.
In climbing an often-scaled mountain crest,
One can add to odd statistics, not joy,
Adventure there’s, nor thrill of a contest,
One grows an old boy, life gathers no buoy.
What use utilitarian attitude?
Where romance is, nor sense of adventure,
Write poems good or not, mind your own mood,
Let wild new winds through wide windows venture,
Look at life as a challenge to surmount,
Get lost for thrill, try on rainbows to mount.
____________________________________________
Crown of sonnets |02.01.2024|life, adventure
Poet’s note: The New Year is in its first week. The daily newspapers are full of how it might unfold. I hardly find anyone talking on how to tackle it and be ready how so it might unfold. Life is to try out a new, least-trodden path. It is lived well when one can throw away the roadmap and venture on still. As Lao Tse said: Walk on where there’s trail, nor track, nor a towpath. This two-piece crown of sonnets wonders what’s life without any thrill of adventure of the unknown.