Long Undertaken Poems

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


Premium Member Have You Ever

Have you ever taken the measure
      And viewed the world from another side

Have you ever had the pleasure
      Of bridging a great divide

Have you ever undertaken an endeavor
      And found it to be a bumpy ride

Have you ever felt such pressure
      You crumbled up and cried

Have you ever like captain clever
       Forgotten to account for a waning tide

Have you ever checked the weather
      And found it to be mostly outside

Have you ever plucked the feathers
      From the chicken that you fried

Have you ever at your leisure
      Stared at the moon cross eyed

Have you ever searched for treasure
      And found it far and wide

Have you ever seen forever 
     And chosen there to reside
Form: Rhyme


I'Ll Never Forget, What's Your Name

Pressed against the seasonal change
 with mid September hurrying to its end in rain
of my mind wanderings that come and wane
 with hint of a memory when I could be young again.

A foolish youth in search of who I was and where
 every step needed to be undertaken
but like many occurences  done without a care
 his name ghost's me now in my mind awakened.

He made me blush with every enticing trance
 but he lacked courage to approach and ask,
he was the one who dared not take a chance
 and stood shy in the background of life's class.

What a pair we would have made
 I loved his smile, loved his endearing look
if only he had the courage to be brave
 instead of burying his nose in that book.

Alas, the time had quickly passed
 I moved on and he never knew, we could have been
old what's his name, he never chose the task
 and luckily, I'm with you and not him.

What's your name again?


for John Lawless's contest
I'llnNever forget, what's his name
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

Heather Bids To Whither

You can't fool a dancer,

hard reverb coming at you like Prancer-

welcome-wagon interstellar like Lancer-

holy demon! 
When did my steam stop? 

Holly weedin'! 
Where did you chop chop? 

Heeeeeeeeeeeey! ! ! ! 

Welcome here...
Its home in the winter.

Heeeeeeeeeeeey! ! ! ! 

Dear Splinter,

it's a creep in the depths of the beat,

it's the 'I won'ts' in the Orgasms and weeps,

the liver turns into seed,
never forgets to breathe,

because the end will set us all free! ! ! 

Welcome here, 
I have a reason to sound clear,

so don't drop out justifyin' why you're not-
flappin- flippin- rectifyin,'
or wearing any gear...

Heather bids to whither in winter with a sinner! 

Dharma- bammered- donner's party at dinner! 

Don-wan gets undertaken by the cowards of the crewman,

that's what happens off stage at an out-land!

Astounding as the crowd that attracts,

jumpin' jimmy's all around the facts,

people clambering over outdated nick-nacks,

elders not retiring because they know they put evil back,

William wondered of war over sea's with the remorse,

Donna sang to the serious on stage with the poor,

verdict was made to off set the players inundating us with words,

technology crashed the earth and left the economy for the birds.
Form: Blitz

Premium Member Once Upon a Sonnet

sitting here at my computer I stare
at blinking cursor a page black and white
to create for you a sonnet most rare
a poem that must be written just right

this task must be undertaken with care
afraid I may be awake through the night
counting my syllables lost in despair
wondering how long til morning’s first light

please dear reader read this and weep for me
weep that I would deem worthy such a quest
hoping that someone might read this and see
that I rose to this great challenge to be

one who endeavored to finish the test
this fourteenth line I now end with long e


8/22/2018
© P.S. Awtry  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

October Seventeenth Ninety Sixty One

October seventeenth ninety sixty one ...

Born sixty one years ago,
the follow poem from your bro
transmitted courtesy flagship
named Jacques-Yves Cousteau
constituting countless ones and zeroes
instantaneously traversing cyberspace
as packeted, framed dataflow
binary digits bit of information
to acknowledge when
thee transitioned being an embryo

(approximately the second
to eighth week after fertilization)
approximately nine months prior,
whose birth marked debut
of bouncing daddy's little girl,
whose inquisitiveness nourished
birthed perception buzzfeeding
capital one earthlinked baby
fostering, kickstarting, and
orchestrating cognitive aptitude,

who throughout storied existence,
which kudos ye
proudly promulgate to and fro
hither and yon across
social media platforms
understandably, opportunistically, and
humbly letting family and friends
across the webbed wide world
know amazing accomplishments,
when ye did initially grow

from being precocious genetic pedigree
into a whip smart self confident
globe trotter, whose curriculum vitae
dwarfs (by powers of seven)
feeble accomplishments of mine,
went thee invested with a heigh-ho
positive state of mind
every endeavor undertaken
(in one physically gruelling instance)
biking, hiking, riding

to your private Idaho
(fast as a B-52)
versus humdrum life of one common Joe,
whose heightened perception
aside from singing the praises
of admiration toward youngest sister
after countless years, he failed to know
about her trials and tribulations
exercising your potential to the maximum
invariably feeling dog tired

with a dose of lumbago
thrown in for good measure
nevertheless adept as bilingual person
quite helpful travelling
to Spanish speaking countries
during your roaring twenties off to Mexico,
and just recently taking a jaunt
to Portugal donned accruing
vibrant sense and sensibility
treasuring richly pocketing nouveau

memories attracting natural outgrow
of ardent followers, whether online
or in flesh, who clamor for selfie photo
with thee and steadfast husband
unlike henpecked wife of mine
enjoyable as pesky miss Quito
who pesters me to get off computer
so she can binge watch Netflix
hence adieu as I hop on my cubii
off to complete
another stationary roadshow.
Form: Rhyme


Planting Seeds of Life - Growing Self Awareness

Planting seeds of life - growing self awareness...
(Subtitled: kudos beloved Amelie Beth)

Dilly gents gal lore spellbinding
metaphorically exhuming, ferreting, gleaning...
insightful handy dandy blues clues
unearthing treasure trove motherlode,
(and father lode) eye opening discover re:
visa vis our family of origin ancestry.

Painstaking efforts undertaken
courtesy thee i.e. eldest sister
(age difference between her and yours truly
thirteen months and twelve days)

ye (figuratively) dug deep
within plethora of genealogical database
mine insight piqued
following genetic revelations.

Raw bits (nuggets - comstock
rivalling wealth of Croesus
sowed countless generations ago)
enlightened this protoplasmic broth heir,
(a biological composite dada
elicited factoids ginning

humongous, illustrious, judicious...
awareness, that allows, enables provides...
knowledge linking me deoxynucleic acid
with forebears, whose good n plenti
inherited characteristics, desires
(under the elms), mannerisms,

predilections, quirks, urges,
yearnings, et cetera contra dance,
flickr, golong, kindle, shutterfly...
within mine contemplative,
intuitive, reflective...soul asylum
explaining, informing, liberating...

natural inquisitiveness percolating within,
not necessarily to excuse
deleterious, egregious, infamous...
(hyperbole for poetic impact)
behavior (mine), nonetheless
delighting, educating, fascinating...

assimilating, bridging, semen ting
heritage invariably jumpstarting
dormant desire to acquire
increased comprehension whereby,
I experience surge to learn
greater familiarity affecting

heightened awareness, where
countless questions once incubated
regarding spiritual communion,
where lovely bones of mein kampf
feel linkedin with spirits
of thee dead ancestors.

Hence awesome accomplishment
piecing together (with assistance from relatives)
once puzzling enigma shrouding
past lives (not sainted)
comprising Harris family of origin.

Premium Member Soon

Soon, so soon wishing for two years to pass
For the anointing to begin in loving celebration
Colourful, beautiful like a Church stained glass
Much more meaning than any previous vacation
Longing again with a wonderful bonnie lass
Lovely places seen before, again to be revisited
Journeys undertaken, soon both will be reliving

A joyous month now passes, their belief graced
Joined in loving celebration for their tomorrows 
Looking back they glance, those two years faced
Unhappy pasts forgotten, also hurting sorrows
Soon, so soon more than them to be interlaced
Places never seen will be eyed by one anew
Learning, all they amidst, into their future living




.

Susurrous Mind

Now it is time for a sleeping spell. 
Blessed sleep, come and my cognizance quell.
I shall lie and await.
I shall quietly hate.
These moments before the slumber, I detest.
Hasten your pace, pacify my unrest.

The dreams are just before my eyes,
And I can see the forms coming into clarity.
I reach out to take hold of this,
This one desire at this most perfect time.
But you, Susurrous Mind!
Why do you speak?
I am near my sleep
And you cannot just wait til the morn?
Must we now decide to reanalyze all we are, 
Figure what we shall keep and discard?
You have broken me now, twice, just today!
I have left my principles for your sake!
See how I write, 
This is not my way.
The wearing of days without rest adequate
Has done this, and now I changed my musics?
Let it go, let it be,
My spirit is willing, yes
But my body is weak.
Let the complexities fall away,
Just for this moment.
Be simple so that I do not wander about a labyrinth.
One way in, one way out,
Both ways dealing with all you wish to talk about.
Free-verse and country, what is becoming of me?
Neither true to form no, but that is my sanity.
Holding true, holding fast,
Waiting for my sleep at last.
Take a pill to make me sleep,
We both know I can’t.
But Susurrous Mind, 
If you will to keep me awakened
Can it be useful and have studies be undertaken?
Of course not, no!
You must be in control.
Pick up a book and be sent right off,
But it isn’t the rest that I dream of.
This write is from the insomniacal side of me.
I am aware also of my repetitive neology. 
Goodnight, goodnight, but not before the fight.
We will wrestle, you will win, 
And I maybe get my prize.
Susurrous Mind, keep it down!
I sleep heavy, yes, but your screams silence cannot drown.

Now it is time for a sleeping spell. 
Blessed sleep, come and my cognizance quell.
I shall lie and await.
I shall quietly hate.
These moments before the slumber, I detest.
Hasten your pace, pacify my unrest.

Infamy

Let’s celebrate Pearl Harbor – and why not?
A pretext for a party?  It’s terrific!
It simply wouldn’t do if we forgot
that evil bid to conquer the Pacific!

There’s one aggressive nation, poised to strike:
it has, somehow, to come up with a ruse:
the victim is distracted, zombie-like:
“we need to manufacture an excuse!”

I’m talking not of Arizona, Shaw
or Utah, but a stealth attack on Spain
so slily undertaken years before:
I’m talking of the sinking of the Maine.

In February eighteen ninety-eight,
Americans (the new kids on the block)
were throwing round a bit of Yankee weight,
and bombed a warship in Havana Dock.

What’s wrong with that?  Why, nothing – if you think
that killing folks to start a war is fine.
The vessel that the hawks picked out to sink
was US Navy, stricken by “a mine”.

The yellow press of Pulitzer and Hearst
demanded Cuba and the Philippines,
defied Don Juan to do his wimpish worst:
he’d blown our mighty Maine to smithereens.

A special corner is reserved in Hell
for those who hate the truth, and help it vanish:
for Pulitzer and Hearst knew very well
the culprits were American, not Spanish.

The “mine” account (excuse me) was exploded:
investigators sent out from Madrid
found nothing to support it.  Dice were loaded.   
The Yankees yearned to start a fight – and did.

The Sampson Board (American, of course)
with comic opera characters in place
(Commander Converse!) said the use of force
was fully recommended in this case.

Why can’t we be content with what we’ve got?
Why pilfer from the other person’s plate?
Two hundred US sailors died – for what?
So Uncle Sam could steal some real estate.
Form: Quatrain

September 12th 2019 1200 Pm

September 12th, 2019...12:00 p.m.
inspection/ emission finally possible
but...hopes dashed to smithereens

August thirty first
two thousand nineteen shortly past,
no matter 2009 Hyundai Sonata at long last
scheduled with ample funds
checking account blitzed

now back home 
(Highland Manor apartments)
absolute zero money left cents lessly gassed
exhale incomplete sigh of relief
cuz necessity to dodge fast
escaping deafening police
ear splitting siren blast.

Congenial customer service
representatives at CJ's tire,
and automotive dutifully require
loose fender securely attached,
but hood latch replacement more dire,
thus postponing mechanic
to affix inspection sticker,

no matter old one did expire
once again driving on borrowed time,
cuz both driver and passenger front tire
plus rear right TPMS metal sensor
re: passenger rear tire
malfunction functionality
hoop fully explains this wire.

Your truly uber verging wreck,
no complaints regarding trained tech
very competent mechanic
even for peripatetic pluperfect prospect
reference I recommend unsolicited
advertisement plus aye inject

relieving anticipatory anxiety
oh yes, said vehicle
in good hands absolutely correct,
no matter sucker punch 
to checking account
doth severely affect
mine psychological aspect.

More legal (zooming) tender
zaps lion's share of this thrifty spender
wannabe, which cruel tread full fate
unquestionably, ostensibly invariably...
every year without fail doth render

finding me in poor house
desperate to pray divine
rolling rocker alms lender
whether he.she major criminal offender,
nor no preference regarding gender.

Fat/slim chance
wishful fantasy will become true
escapist mindset bolsters
this hen pecked forlorn rue
stir standing glum within
long fostered, and winding queue,
this dirt poor dude intuitively knew

bubblegum, toothpicks and glue
holding psyche intact turned hue
man into sad sack... boo hoo
minus auto body work
undertaken by trained 
heavy metal punk ken cutting crew.
Form: Rhyme

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