Long Tutored Poems
Long Tutored Poems. Below are the most popular long Tutored by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tutored poems by poem length and keyword.
In numerous locales countrywide, they hold sway
Pirouetting at intervals like ballerinas from Bolshoi
Beauteous, feline and very feminine
Slender to the point of emaciation, not quite
Cultivating the undernourished look on a frugal diet
Decidedly austere for a longer tenure in the limelight
Basking in the fleeting warmth of an adulatory audience
A gathering of the doting kindred and the upwardly mobile
Some dirty old men on the sly, dirty young men too
Glued to their seats craning for a better view
By and large captive by choice, a handful perforce
Sitting through to pen their weekly column
Giving those they fancy their due in the sun
Witnesses to a parade of demure eyed lasses
And a few with flashy looks walking tall on stilettos
Essentially female and contoured though not prominently so
At least not to a marked degree, yet with excellent muscle tone
Opulence, no longer deemed a career necessity
Once considered right stuff, now rejected as wrong size
An hour-glass shape belonging to an age bygone
But hardly so, from the viewers’ mind, in retrospect
Enchanting and alluring yet not overtly titillating
Each in a state of dress and undress
Willing tools of designers flaunting their creations
Sporting dresses and hats and shoes, and lingerie too
In black or white and loud or subdued hues
Displaying formal wear, casual wear, swimsuits and sleep suits
Some scanty and figure hugging, others flowing and loose
A bony look required for some, others fulsome
A voyeur’s paradise, to be sure
Indulging a fetish without stooping too low
Chilly weather was never reason enough to cancel a show
Heat of arc-lamps taking care of goose pimples
Or brandy taken neat infusing the needed heat
Harbingers of tomorrow’s fashion and pall-bearers of today’s
The strobe lit platform of the pageant
Serving to launch new faces or is it legs?
The leggy look personified by Twiggy of yore
Carried through in the interim and sustained by the new genre
Captivating without doubt, and thorough professionals
Displaying unruffled demeanour and tutored bearing of thoroughbreds
Exuding confidence with every graceful step they take
Cool as ice despite the harsh glare of stage lights
And callous catcalls from boorish males
Performing in a backdrop of future fashion trends
Money and fame finding some, eluding others
Be it centre stage or in the shadows
It is bread on the catwalk for all
Many a poet I know a fool
acting like they know-it-all
many a poet I know a tool
acting like "Mr Poet-all"
unknowingly showing me
their knowledge of poetry
has boundaries surrounding
ideas rebounding around
their impounded grounds
only seeing the same repeatedly
nothing new unfortunately
forever under lock and key
belittling anything new they see.
As a poet I'm not especially traditional
more so "special" writing additional
my raw and new to poetry style
unlike those into poetry awhile
so can I now pick the thoughts
of a traditional poet know-it-all
I believe to be caught in restriction walls
appearing to parrot what taught in schools
see if I perceive conviction in their cause
or robotic perspective their memory stores
too Inspect credentials for signs set in stone
content or unambitious toward the unknown
should I see respect or a moody moan
for new styles outside their own zone
Seemingly their priority is to teach all to try to be
writing unoriginally prevent the mind think free
in a strictly stricken view I see crippling you
never trying new or seeking something else to do
you have regulations on how creativity is written
preventing inspiration thus so negatively driven
speculating with unchallenged repetition
as though been tutored to a limit
you're now failing to ascend merited
having starved all but within it.
So please respect my detected inclination at play
but poetry is a creative artform not set in its ways
and those paved paths you pace and wear thin
were once unpaved before their now adored placing
so shouldn't a creative artform progress and not stay there
wouldn't it go on new quests paving unpaved or
invent realise and find in amaze ways new spaces
not be assigned a confined station like railways
instead seek to new roads or train to fly the skies
cus a closed off mind concealed in a cocoon
denies the butterfly wings the room
like a inverted narrow mind blinds clues
let's preserve and branch from the lay of the track
if poetry stays then poetry slacks but if adapts
poetry won't wear weak crumble and crack
recycling the same will only sink in to the black
I don't want to conform to the common or normal
because I see it as a creative short fall.
So why refuse new styles when you could embrace all poetry?
are you a poet or are you a phoney?
The great mother to whom I cry
But when will your mind be to laugh
Or mouth in joy of peace it seeks
When will happiness to brethren smiles
To him your joy afar in miles
The treasure your children lost
Or the inheritance of mother flaws
Grand children in madness drawn
To steal, to fraud and to loot
To this your veins drain in cries
And in pains your mouth bleeds
Yet curse your mouth refutes
Because in changes your mind lurches
Of children in wilderness of vain chase
Hope in vanity of welt wealth
Great mother to you I cry
But mother, behold you too in cry
Sour the taste, milk of your breasts
To whom will us the solace get
Nigeria, mother, bleed they made you
II.
In trust the one I gave the vase
To lead, to mold, and spray the musk
That which brethren will make a symbol
Fragrance the world sought in haste
Aroma the one to mold in folds
Your kids, your world, your growth
But, amongst of you, leaders you hailed
In cry I am, my kids are cursed
Like Judas you are of trust to keep
But the one your elders waste and frayed
To throne your ascendancy in flaws
When justice you claimed but ruts
In market justice you sell to hawks
Like lion poking and sneering of preys
The rich, the little of the weak he takes
Blame not the kids whose hands do stink
Of whom, I ask, they tutored in gales
To steal, to fraud, to loot like cats
But of their elders, parents, even the guides
The reference of elders, now their pride
III.
But there, standing he holds
In pretext the Books of the sages
The one he claims to bear
In them contains their sayings
Of the old and I say, of the Host
The one in whom I am mould
Books of the Ancients and of age
Of ancients before your gods
That in it my mind in cry
That in lies he claimed to know
Behold, he swore to an oath
In himself, his oath, his spirit rejects
The taker and the one who is charged
The responsibility of oath he took
Accursed these children I begot
The one for which I’m in cry
That unto him I say, woe betides
Fury of me is here to reckon
Rage of the Books that you hold
The one of oath as your witness
Against of your mouth, it shall witness
Dear freinds, poetry soupers!
So sorry I've not been around lately for I have a message to the world, THE GIFT! I now am
presenting a TV show called Mind, Body and Sol here in Spain. I have also started my
second book, my poems will be posted! love you all!!!!
THE GIFT is the answer of a bright new dawn
The law of attraction in poetry form
These poems guide you to a life of success
They are simple instructions, one can easily digest
I live by the law and my life is so sweet
I would love to share this inspirational treat
What I think about I bring about, It's incredibly true
It's all in the THE GIFT about dreams that come true
We all need hope, and now is the time
The key to success, a changing of minds
When you take this on trust, what you are about to read
It will show you how, in life to succeed.
The theory has been around for thousands of years
But been kept a secret, so it appears
Now it’s out, of this there is no doubt
I would like to tell you what it’s all about.
What you are thinking, and how you feel
Is creating your future, It's called the law of attraction
And on this subject, I have been very well tutored
Life seems to be full of highs and lows
We all need a shield for the knocks and the blows
Controlled thoughts, and controlled feelings
Will grant you your wishes, and all you are dreaming.
Nothing comes easy, like learning to drive
But when you have mastered it well, your spirits alive
Nothing can stop you; you're well on your way
Confidence takes over, it’s a brighter day
The same on this subject, in which that I write
For when you have mastered the concept
Your goals are in sight, you become what you think about
Sounds crazy but true, It's all in the poems
Written solely for you.
Read the rhymes, over and over
THE GIFT will be your 4 leaf clover
We all have the power, we all can succeed
Enjoy the poems
TAKE IN WHAT YOU READ!!!!!!!!
Thegiftifonlyyouknew.com
,
Dear freinds, poetry soupers!
So sorry I've not been around lately for I have a message to the world, THE GIFT! I now am presenting a TV show called Mind, Body and Sol here in Spain. I have also started my second book, my poems will be posted! love you all!!!!
THE GIFT is the answer of a bright new dawn
The law of attraction in poetry form
These poems guide you to a life of success
They are simple instructions, one can easily digest
I live by the law and my life is so sweet
I would love to share this inspirational treat
What I think about I bring about, It's incredibly true
It's all in the THE GIFT about dreams that come true
We all need hope, and now is the time
The key to success, a changing of minds
When you take this on trust, what you are about to read
It will show you how, in life to succeed.
The theory has been around for thousands of years
But been kept a secret, so it appears
Now it’s out, of this there is no doubt
I would like to tell you what it’s all about.
What you are thinking, and how you feel
Is creating your future, It's called the law of attraction
And on this subject, I have been very well tutored
Life seems to be full of highs and lows
We all need a shield for the knocks and the blows
Controlled thoughts, and controlled feelings
Will grant you your wishes, and all you are dreaming.
Nothing comes easy, like learning to drive
But when you have mastered it well, your spirits alive
Nothing can stop you; you're well on your way
Confidence takes over, it’s a brighter day
The same on this subject, in which that I write
For when you have mastered the concept
Your goals are in sight, you become what you think about
Sounds crazy but true, It's all in the poems
Written solely for you.
Read the rhymes, over and over
THE GIFT will be your 4 leaf clover
We all have the power, we all can succeed
Enjoy the poems
TAKE IN WHAT YOU READ!!!!!!!!
Thegiftifonlyyouknew.com
,
Granny hit you with it you fly across the room
she was a 5th generation hep cat
a finger popping bebopster with double elbows
you can have your two bit Buddha garden
and your silly Jesus candles
Granny created man in a long jungle fart
an incomprehensible symphony of base instincts
yet a mind of superb functionality
that could light up an airport bomb squad
duck when her mud flaps make music
and her army of vinyl inflatable hump dolls
offer you their luge team thrill ride
in Grannyland your organs of perception
will spank your organs of deception
then she can show you the birth of her world
never mind the Frankenstein lurching
occasionally possessed by paroxysms of logic
she told me that self-creation has its dangers
that discovering by mocking yourself
you are better able to live with yourself
there's a big hammer out there sweetheart
and it takes many guises she tutored
there is no authority other than
the boot print on your face
that can be said with authority
you square your corners or it's pinball 24/7
Granny's wunderkinder actually go to church
on the altar they burn condoms and cell phones
she reads from the Aegean Thesaurus
fishing in the innards of conformity for signs
beyond confection to the great innocent core
where the chrome 49-51 split sucks in planets
some things are indivisible to yes or no
for reasons neither I nor my investors can fathom
and 10 minutes ago is already the quaint past
where nothing goes unobserved
mall store changing room cameras everywhere
tossing gold down the well for luck
then the usual Hell's road show erupts
visions of granny’s breasts kept me going
kissed brave by her pouting ruby lips
an incredible data handling system
you are a freak like us she purrs
and the clock towers tumble to earth
cuz nothing lasts forever
Granny's last words were I shall teach you to hex
with the great unnumbered incantation
curse you love me as I am
In seventeen sixty nine a child was born
in Corsica, Genoa's former vassal state.
Prior to his birth, his land had been war-torn,
Paoli's resistance did his birth predate.
At school, his geometrical talent was inborn,
and he was tutored by none other than Laplace.
For his accent, his peers at school laughed him to scorn,
but fortune would elevate him from grass to grace.
With his much older heartthrob he tied the knot;
much to the chagrin of his own dear family.
For the heart of Josephine he relentlessly fought,
and at Chateau de Malmaison they lived happily.
Later he would choose a military career
that would take him beyond the Corsican frontier.
France's revolution saw to his glorious rise,
when at Toulon, he took royalists by surprise.
To Egypt he led a dual expedition
of a military and scientific mission.
To France he returned and sacked the directory,
taking charge of the affairs of state and treasury.
Europe did contend with him in seven coalitions;
at Austerlitz he subjugated two nations,
at Marengo, Austria on her bended knees fell,
at Jena-Auerstadt, Prussia to victory bade farewell.
At Borodino, Russia met her nemesis,
as her vanquished forces saw their paralysis.
At Ligny, Blucher like a beaten canine fled
with the terribly smitten forces he once led.
Portugal's sovereign lord to distant Brazil ran,
when like an invincible lord he came to his realm.
The emperor he feared, and made no military plan;
thus he paved the way for him to ascend his helm.
But despite his triumphs, his weakness was exposed.
At Rolica, his troops a major set back saw.
From Leipzig he did to Elba's island withdraw,
from whence in 1815 he returned unopposed.
Russia's wintry plains did his grand armee deplete,
making his troops vulnerable to a future defeat.
After the famous battles in which he gloried,
his great ambition at Waterloo was buried.
Raised by apes as a
feral child in the wild,
was as a young man
discovered by a rich American
anthropologist hiker who was retired,
taken back by plane
to his new homeland,
he started assimilating
by wearing regular attire,
they tutored him how to
read and write, and
after several years he
finally got to graduate,
landed a job at the local zoo,
he had to feed and pick
up after the animals
which was his job rule,
talking to the animals
like Dr. Doolittle,
he didn't mind their
smelly feces or pond like piddle,
sometimes impulsively letting
out his Tarzan bellow,
as a Simon Cowell zoo
guest was passing by,
hearing Tarzan's strong voice
he couldn't help but smile,
thought he'd be great
at the opera house,
next thing Tarzan knew
he was dressed in a tux
and singing for an audience,
becoming a singing sensation
almost overnight,
one night on stage had to
do an opera version of
his feral life,
so he swung around the stage
in his old loincloth,
when a Hollywood talent scout
sat up and took notice,
wanting Tarzan for his next movie,
so after the show became
Tarzans new boss man,
Tarzan doing all kinds of leaps,
swings and jumps from tall buildings,
he was now known as the best stuntman,
becoming so much in demand
at the zoo, opera and movies,
he tried to schedule his time
so he could cram in all three careers,
becoming rich but feeling quite tired,
lonely and miserable,
he flew back to his old Africa,
where he could feel happy, free and original,
doing what he loved and was best at,
helping all his animal friends out,
helping them to get rid of all the poachers,
his animal friends started repopulating
the jungle especially the endangered ones.
And at last Tarzan finally married someone
who was like him and loved animals
and singing and being out in the rain,
he married his sweetheart...
the one by the name of Jane!
Especially one courteously wrapped ably
anonymously gifted to
an aspiring gourmet Chef Boyardee
i.e. not surprisingly... revealing mystery
person none other than...
yepper namely me.
Moost anyone can show
off culinary karate chop
suey, whether schooled among
fishy creatures either
from black lagoon,
or privately tutored,
(this haint no canibal)
courtesy mythological Cyclop,
somewhat riotously,
quirkily and precariously,
when blindsided flop
which slapdash loco motion often
misconstrued for latest dance moves
characterizing boogie woogie
(touting Louis Armstrong talents
as token bugle boy), and/or hip hop.
Audible sigh of relief exhaled by
none other than Chaim Yankel,
whose tail feathers ruffled
linkedin to setback, which former
(malfunctioning microwave) did rankle.
No longer must
hungry tummies all told
eat food frozen and/or cold
leftovers formed into Rorschach,
neigh Horseshack habitat mold
more suitable as clay pigeons,
where strong arms
analogous to accordion fold
readied to take aim and fire
young trumpeting Olympian trained
contestants, albeit aghast at
proliferating firearms when polled
wantonly, indiscriminately, and blithely
taking precious innocent lives
worth more than fine spun gold.
Eve vent chilly this monseigneur
and his madam
(Church Lady) conceding faithful
to follow and acquiesce
and countenance flimflam
toward yours truly,
no matter a fake Imam
who offered up feast
Earth friendly biologically/
genetically modified, prepared
artificial intelligent algorithmically
programmed manufactured in Vietnam,
who cooked delectable
Soylent green eggs and ham.
Best not prepare
former entree in microwave
lest they explode instantly
killing home of the brave
necessitating, none other
than one lame rhymester at large
to end poem quickly senseless verse
in order for his hide to save.
Ad Hoc Ad Litem: CHAPTER 2
Reverse Psychology has no real true antonym, if so, it would be known as persuasive psychology which is nonsensical and the redundancy of the word psychology be removed. On the other hand, Reverse Psychology has been used time and again, throughout RECORDED history since the year 1 BC, when the serpent did that number on Eve, who did it on Adam.
1a] It was my Dad who said to Mom, I overheard on the phone, that they were up to something. Did Mom say good or bad? Did they ask you why we moved to the mainland? No, that you got a good job up here, that's all. Then they are asking son.
1b] Reverse psychology Dad used them, as I did higher learning courses during the computerless era of the mid-70s stuck in the library, tutored high schoolers all older than me, a third of which was my cousins--family alma mater. My benefit was a memorable life, except for my son's loss, I would not change anything else.
2] Reverse psychology benefited them--Hell yes! Some came to my graduation, all standing ovations and laughter being the only one left standing the longest recipient of scholarships. These high-ranking officials of the State of Hawaii, dignitaries all, shaking their hands with my proud parents, and no bowls of water to have them washed. Hawaii School Board was there, it was all too apparent. Those dignitaries shook my hands too, and went back to their well-secured political seats for the rest of their lifetimes. Their benefits were more than just seats, public buildings, parks, beaches, highways, and submarines, even our beloved Aloha State's largest airport is named after my biggest benefactor, who was also my graduation class commencement speaker, the Late Former Senator Daniel Inouye.