Long Uni Poems
Long Uni Poems. Below are the most popular long Uni by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Uni poems by poem length and keyword.
Hopped the uni with my rucksack;
speeding off to make a new track
with the tools that one might need to hack a trail.
A pair of loppers for the limbs
and for the ones that need more vim,
there’s a folding saw that almost never fails.
When atop that unicycle,
wonder if the angel Michael
feels a bit like this as I fly ‘round the bend.
Although the archangel’s traject
carries more loft, I do suspect,
I imagine it as through the woods I wend.
Of course, I’ve got some sturdy gloves
‘Cuz Old Man Briar surely loves
to attack at every single chance he gets.
And those briars aren’t dinky;
they’ll rip flesh right off your pinky
and produce a throbbing pain you’ll soon regret.
As I reach my destination,
can’t but marvel at creation
and the blessing that it is to be outside.
Days like these will make you thankful,
like an overflowing tank full,
for a Father who has brought us for the ride.
OUR UNI-SONG
If only you are near,
dear, how I'd like to stay here
You are so special,
my core nuclei among all celestial
Can I hold you close
as if each day our last to rose?
With your sturdy heat gaze
slowly consume me with each phase
Together we'll make ends meet,
I know united as one we can't be beat
Dancing pressed in the moonlight;
like an gulp of raw champagne delight
Next to each other
a sunset treasure, we can ponder.
Facing tomorrows one at a time,
love knots in pirouette notes of rhyme.
Building a family drive by sheer affection
Us - our uni-song, we sing without hesitation.
My very soul rejoice if it's all you I befall.
And if this life ends suddenly--
Don't you ever forget I am forever with thee...
© O.E.Guillermo
9:23 pm, November 15, 2014
I woke up and felt dead.
Nothing new, but I’m spurred on by tonight’s events,
A chance to drink and party with friends.
I didn’t understand my lecture and the tutorial went over my head,
But it’s fine, it’ll be drunkenly forgotten by the time I’m in bed.
Mondays are tough, I’m not rewarded refuge from the noise,
I’m left yearning for the next night out with the boys.
When I won’t stress about uni,
When I no longer hate the way I look,
The scars disappear as if the alcohol took- all the that pushes me over,
All the restless torments and stupid insecurities,
But they’ll be back, and worse, as soon as I’m sober.
The floodgates reopen and the water floods my mind,
Accompanied by headaches and nausea entwined,
Now it’s worse than ever because all that I can think,
Is when an earth can I next drink.
What if I threw my one good grape up high
So high it left the atmosphere of Earth behind
A tiny purple oval object turning over in the sky
A fragile skin the only thing protecting it
As it travels into space where life begins
To another world, perhaps the moon by chance
Without a space suit on or parachute to land
Could it live a life out there, alone, no air
They say there is no sound in outer space
If an astronaut stepped on the moon
And on the uni-grape while taking soil samples
Would you hear a cry around the lunar lander
We just don't know for certain
It might just let out a little wine
The most important day of my whole life,
Was the day I went to Uni, bold and stark,
‘Cos it said to my parents that my mind’s state,
Was with the academics and society’s quark.
They called me as a child insane and *****,
For wanting my brother’s toys, books and pencils;
They also actually called me mentally ill,
For not wanting girly clothes which did frill.
I had my nose in the encyclopaedias and dictionaries,
And they just couldn’t figure why or understand,
And wouldn’t leave me to browse and scan:
Wouldn’t in love care and just let me have my stand.
Society was for sinners, every day they pointed out,
But I felt that it was the fundamentalist Christians,
Who were cold, uncaring, and without clout;
Ready to explode in anger at any societal person.
But they knew who I was on that day going to Uni,
On the journey to Glasgow in the Grenada car,
And so when I was subjective, contemplative and still,
My dad rudely V’d me with his fingers in a spar.
I think they thought I'd say nothing and carry on,
But I waited a few seconds and then firmly replied,
“What was that for?” and he retorted “What?”
And that glint of something in me for them died.
I gave a few murmurs, but succeeded in letting it go,
Having quietly shed a tear about my childhood and early life,
But I promised myself to tell the Hall wardens about the gesture,
Who also made me swear to tell them of any future strife.
And then in my second year, when my dad became,
The conductor of Billy Graham’s choir,
When I made the wardens aware of my pain,
They took me to the cinema and loved me plain.
It makes it so much better, other people’s concern,
Just that bit of interest that you've never had to earn;
Talking about one’s problems puts colour in your cheeks,
And life will be to you that whatever one truly seeks.