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.
An advent of raptors loiters over mall roofs.
hooded eyes scope the neon-lit spaces,
the concreted waste lands.
We wake to their screams as if this were High Sierra,
not Ohio where parent’s try-out or manage children,
open party stores, hunker through the coming
and going of baby Jesus; de-ice puffer jackets.
Gloom is plowed behind snow dunes.
The red-tails roam in loose federations,
their young, mob-handed and loutish,
the mature work alone,
scything through small birds,
the weakened and walking.
The hawks wing-dance proclaiming their time,
a time of frost-bitten electric barricades,
of bobble hats and mittens,
while unseen, a wind-rattled thorny brier,
recites its litany of seasonal prayers.
Well, I got this aggitation
Running round in my head
Like old man armadillo
In the Missus’ flower beds
You see, a poem’s got a form
Like a critter’s got legs
And some go for live birth
While others lay eggs
Now the Lord creates them all,
Yes, each in its kind
But he gave us a name
That he wants us to mind
When you’re raising your boy
You don’t call him a horse
Lest he get in Ma’s biscuits
Eats ‘em all in due course
No, he’s a boy or a man
Let him know who he is
So that he won’t be failing
When he gets a pop quiz
It’s the same with these poems
Each of its own form
And that form’s got a name
Keeps ‘em cozy and warm
See a haiku’s not a sonnet,
An ABC’s not an ode,
Some say prose is not poetry
We’re not going down that road.
If you can’t make your mind up
Go with Free Verse or Rhyme
There’s even I Don’t Know
If you’d just take the time
You can usually tell
If you count up the legs
If you don’t know what those are
There’s a question that begs…
Heck, you might even try out
A new form or two
Cuz there’s dogs that still hunt
That are older than you
Some’d say I’ve gone to meddling
Getting up in your face
So I’ll ease back to the barn
Gotta clean up the place
A leprechaun who was afraid
To take part in today’s big parade
Found a good place to hide
But once he was inside
Quickly saw the mistake he had made.
For instead of a pub to appease,
With some corned beef and Guinness to please,
It became very plain
He’d be eating lo mein
Since the place he was in was Chinese.
Still, the waiters went out of their way
To make sure that this unplanned delay
Was as good as could be
So, along with his tea
Was a cookie to brighten his day.
When he opened the fortune, he read,
“Though you’re Irish, we’re glad you were led
To try out our cuisine;
Now it’s back to the green
For great riches for you lie ahead!”
Ghostly hands reached into my very soul
In a moment my heart was turned to stone
All of my dreams were poured into a hole
I was afraid and felt I was alone
Then an Angel came and took me away
Whisked upward on wings towards heavens gates
She saved me even though I didn't pray
My heart restored as she removed the weight
I was sent back with a radiant smile
Once again living in a land of dreams
This is the place I must stay for a while
My tears now flowing down my face in steams
So thankful to be saved from ghostly hands
My heart is now my own to command
I was inspired to try out this form after reading Nette's poem Cherished
I must take a little time here to say what I feel. I apologize to all soupers, for lowering the tone of your site, with my, so-called poetry. I have always tried to belong here but I have never felt that I do. I think on this often, wondering whether I should just go for good. I have a few ideas I would like to bring to fruition first. After I try out these ideas I shall see whether I leave or stay.
I thank the few friends I have, for sticking by me. I guess I am still feeling low. The apology is most sincerely given and I write once more, I apologise for lowering the tone of your site with my words.
Have a wonderful Tuesday.
Your friend....Mike.
I cherish my dear family
And so, I hold them close to me
I cherish all my loving friends
Relationship that never ends
I cherish time spent with my pets
They are part of my life's assets
I cherish watching the flowers
Showcase their multihued powers
I cherish the sun and the rain
Reminders of God's awesome reign
I cherish the song of the birds
They help me pen delightful words
I cherish reading good fiction
And simple poetic diction
I cherish melodic music
According to my mood's sweet pick
Yes, I cherish these little things
Which has helped me try out my wings
04.04.2021
8 syllables per line
For Constance La France's "Writing prompt - cherish" contest
Though it’s still partly cloudy in this street
& everybody follows the king’s fleet,
I’m following you to the ends of this world,
where I’ve replaced everything with your word,
I remain elsewhere like the empty plea
because you’re that fire burning inside me.
Though those agencies that create duets seem
to believe that a system employing well over
2, 000, 000 couples with infusions of bright visions
will need certain clearly specified characteristics
with objectives & noting costs to protect the new moon.
You’re that whirlwind blowing everything away,
that’s why in this play, I pray not to be the next prey.
I’m too late this morning & I won’t catch any bus,
though traders in their market won’t understand us.
To them, we’re actors in a tragic-comedy stage.
& we made a bold decision to try out the phage.
Give me your hands for a warmth of touch
& I won’t be in operational form in that skutch.
Give me your mouth for a kiss
when I listen to your coos.
Give me your whole body for burying me completely
when I pledge fealty.
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.
I regret the movies
they gave you reasons to add a twist in life
believing existence without adrenaline is not living at all
and wild adventures are the crest on fulfillment’s stamp.
I regret the kisses
they were an experimental lab for your comparison
with cumulative scores so negative
whenever I do not do it right.
I regret the dinners
they were mere fun’s activities to try out the world of luxury.
While I was trying to build something honest,
you were trying to aimlessly and heartlessly explore.
I regret the touches
actions so sensual, deep and soul expressing
never penetrated your skin but are mere agents of warmth,
as satisfying physical needs is their line of command.
I hate the outings
thinking the expression of varieties and beauty’s many limbs
would be translated into a union so lively and young.
but it was an avenue for you to select my replacement.
What I do not regret is the love
twas beautiful, sweet, enjoyable and flawless.
I blame the human endeavour and not its blessings.
You’ve gone back to your ex, but it’ll sure lead me to a wonderful next.
Life can turn on simple decisions;
I, myself, am proof that life can even be given a start based on the same.
My father rode into Germany at the end of World War II,
His mission: to help clean up the mess that war can leave behind.
His kismet came in the form of Germanic blue eyes
accompanied by a coquettish smile
atop a feminine form with an intelligent mind.
Paperwork was his excuse not to join his platoon on a trip to the outskirts of town;
The real reason was to chase a skirt he was mesmerized with in town;
What his fellow soldiers saw in the first discovery of a German Concentration Camp, scarred them for life;
My father was spared that horror and that trauma to his soul that may have made it impossible for him to fall in love with my mother that afternoon.
Were it not for his lame excuse;
Were it not for the chance to try out his newly learned German on a beautiful girl in a beaten down city in a defeated country;
I would not be typing these words in the autumn of my blessed life.
There would be no author to pen this tale,
No tale to tell,
Had that young soldier performed his duty that day
instead of drinking coffee in the cafés of Berlin.
Written and posted on 1/12/2016 for the "Last Line Prompt" contest.