Long Upend Poems
Long Upend Poems. Below are the most popular long Upend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Upend poems by poem length and keyword.
"It's all going to be okay" he would say,
with no scent of doubt in his breath,
even as its aroma reeked from mine,
as I'd blurt out "how can you be so sure?"
I never figured out what made my dad so positive in life,
though I'm positively sure his life wasn't free from trial
and the upsetting detours that can uproot our foundations
and upend the tables of tradition we depended on.
On and on life goes like this,
until it ends.
I wonder
What traditions did my father depend on
and, lay to rest,
for something, better?
What pressures pressed him so thin
that he'd give up those things
he once loved so dearly?
Is that what transformed him
into the appreciative, hopeful, happy guy
we laid to rest?
while figuratively hunting
and pecking around me noggin
force hum theme to write about
lo and behold, the solution
stared me right in front
of my little knob nub nose with gentle clout
cuz, as an avid bookworm, the dictionary,
I enjoy expending hours
to drink up etymological history
relating to the origin and
historical development of words
and their meanings.
with no shadow of a doubt
and most times, this animatronic,
the technique of making and operating
lifelike robots, typically for use
in film or other entertainment
dogmatic, enigmatic fugee dooby
brother beastie boy
(actually a mwm) dislikes to flout
his abilities, hobbies, interests,
as aches hike kant imagine being treated for gout
a disease in which defective metabolism
of uric acid causes arthritis, especially
in smaller bones of the feet, deposition
of chalkstones, and episodes of acute pain.
Boot lemme return full circle
to thematic core curriculum aye started to aim
and express gratitude
to the ghost of Noah Webster,
who gets credit yet also blame
if some snide haughty guttersnipe,
some slovenly individual feels snubbed,
and hence, living personage, said descendent(s)
of oblivion, whatever unknown
man or woman to living persons
stake a valid claim
that his/her many generations removed
heir (Harris), and or heiress ancestor (proven
with tangible researched reportage,
then cited with countless
prestigious explorers of English language),
that a daunting scrivener perhaps
even a courtesan or rich dame
rightfully ought to receive the fame,
thus such living relative might
upend the huck cult personality be game
to dare challenge secure historical niche
ambitiously held by Mark Roget (1779–1869),
British physician, natural theologian
and lexicographer. It was released
to the public on 29 April 1852.
The original edition had 15,000 words,
and each new matured edition
of the Thesaurus grew larger.
Pets come in all shapes and sizes. This poem is in awe of those fluffy, irresistible, cuteness overload pets that take over our lives and our hearts.
Fuse memories to your soul
By Michelle Morris
20/12/2022
These furry beasts
These ferocious furballs of love
They can maul you with cuddles
They can upend you with hugs
Such irresistible cuteness
Such an overload of fluff
You cannot resist the onslaught
They'll keep you away from work
They can trip you up
And make you fall
They'll bring you to tears
And become your whole world
For nothing can compare
To that fluffy, adorable face
When it snuggles up beside you
Or wakes you for food or space
They'll take up the whole bed
They'll take up your whole heart
They'll take over your life
They'll give you joy beyond the stars
Our pets define us
They are part of your life and home
They bring you joy and laughter
They'll fuse memories to your soul
© Michelle Morris, 2022
When death, like silence
Creeps into or sleepy lives
We feel the moorings untie
The threads that tangle our lives
We feel the currents of emotion upend our hearts
Images of both good and bad rage like storms in our souls
We are blown and buffeted in the currents
We flounder in emotional waves
Till that last thread of reality snaps
We are blown in the wrath
Of emotions, memories blurred imagery
That death opens holes in our small little souls
We search for reasons and meaning to why and what for…
We see the sliver flare n flicker in each fuzzy moment
We do our best to remember and attest
To the moments lost in time
We fight to hold the sliver outlines, as they fade fast
We collect them together
To patch that ever growing hole in our waning souls
To cover the loss n shore up our failing memories
We fill it with emotions and imagery
Of our time spent with the ones we love
As a little death takes them from our silent lives
The ones we love, the ones we idolize
We feel the unmooring of all that binds
Like boats casts into the tempest, watching for the lighthouse; sweep
Our life comes undone as we flounder
In the wrath of the storm
A storm of memories and feelings of our lives
Images of our loved ones lost to the grave
We hold on to those memories, feelings, and imagery
Catching all that silver outlines as memories fade
And fill the voids in our lost lives
The feelings aglow in the ruins of time
As we can only watch our histories fade
Catching only the silver outlines that remain
It was love at first sight
Thought of you every night
Can’t stop thinking of you
What am I gonna do?
Blinding love at first sight
It was love at first sight
me feeling high as a kite
Ah, but this too shall pass
searching for greener grass
Crazy love at first sight
(Chorus)
Head over heels into the unknown
Doomed to fail before true love’s seed sown
Loss of control by true love’s presidium
Love’s cliché coup (surrounded by idioms)
~ Blinding, crazy love at first sight
It was love at first sight
but not all black and white
If I throw caution to wind
will my life then upend?
Stormy love at first sight
It was love at first sight
Why am I so uptight?
Will i be lumped with fools,
An exception to rules?
Scary love at first sight
(Chorus)
Head over heels into the unknown
Doomed to fail before true love’s seed sown
Loss of control by true love’s presidium
Love's cliché coup (surrounded by idioms)
~ Stormy, scary love at first sight
It was love at first sight
Dizzying passage of rite
Love is blind at what cost?
Best to have loved then lost?
All’s fair in love at first sight
It was love at first sight
Can two wrongs make a right?
One plus one’s never two
when one’s heart isn’t true
Fickle love at first sight
(Chorus)
Head over heels into the unknown
Doomed to fail before true love’s seed sown
Loss of control by true love’s presidium
Love's cliché coup (surrounded by idioms)
~ All‘s fair in fickle love at first sight
Imagination only comes when you privilege the subconscious,
when you make delay and procrastination work for you.
—Hilary Mantel
The cogs and wheels turning, nonetheless, as I ponder
the preparation before me, having looked over the lesson;
turned over the less obvious loneliness of being left
with a lesson I’ll never forget; abandoned, but not by God.
—quote by Poet
Procrastinating
Cold am I in my pyjamas;
not wearing any socks.
Shivering with coffee in hand;
it’s warmed up to the cold.
Frozen, the morning program;
I will likely release its heat.
Procrastinating, except for laundry.
Waiting on my inspiration socks.
Shall I pick up my next read
or throw the book at something unseen?
Pens and pencils in an Irish mug.
Two leprechauns kiss; Dad misses that warmth.
Observant am I, as now I see, scattered,
yellow and pink silicone muffins.
My mess in triplicate.
I must duplicate my stress.
Press in to the obvious…
Once I begin, where will it end?
Work, without end,
to upend my mind.
I’d planned the vacation of my life to see the world rolling on ice, but the summer heat was so extreme that it almost sinks my summer dream. The path was clear but I could not find a suitable place to stay over there.
There were too many places with too many happy faces, and Vladimir and estrogen were sitting on the throne smiling. Godot was not there but they had so much to share. With decoration on their cheeks and courage beneath their feet they got the audience to rise to their feet. They brought the house down when Vladimir roll the ball on his nose and estrogen catapult it to the back of the net with a head roll; that’s the way of clowns when no other strategy is found.
The temperature suddenly rises and we had to cool down our bodies with a block of ice, and moments before the summer begins, I could hear the bells ring. It reminded that summer is here and there is nothing to fear.
We have waited for this as if it was a promise or a premonition from the deity that everything will turn out right and we will end the bull fight, and send the bulls back unto the pen and keep the surface wet, they will never get out to chase the people about for the next fight will be in four years’ time when the temperature is right.
Summer is slipping through my finger, and I have so much to deliver; I have a meeting to attend, a court order to upend and a vacation to spend. When all of this is over, and we have crossed over, we will rise to the occasion once more and spread everything out on the floor. Summer is slipping through my finger, and I have a meeting with my employee and a dinner with them and a message to send. The table is already sent but the company is struggling with enormous debt.
When everyone bonds together and sign the document, miracles will fall from heaven. You don't have to scramble for food anymore and you don’t have to wipe people’s floor; you will have all the finance you need to keep the doors open and to satisfy your greed.
Come with me to the shores we will take the ferry next door; it’s about time we get on the ship and crosses over to begin the trip. Summer almost slipped through my finger, and I am glad that you are here to help me cross over.
Ah, Poet, Poet, if only I could become
A magical fly, to delve into your mind and soul,
To bring light to the chaos of your thoughts and feelings
That also upend my own being.
We wander aimlessly towards each other,
Yet we do not find, do not meet, do not touch serenely
To cling to one another and remain so, inseparable, unshaken.
I would love you like a dream, like a entwined story,
In which souls intertwine, merge,
To share from the sweet cup of love.
But my fiction is shattered by the man tormented
By carnal desires, who strives to awaken them in me,
Acting upon my mind like a Chinese water torture.
There's no need, for in bed He is the master,
Holder of the instrument that brings so much pleasure,
That a woman's body abandons itself willingly,
Its senses stirred, and when the weakest man becomes
The strongest and most manipulative master.
Nothing simpler. You can be loved this way,
And otherwise, or both at once,
Just don't mix them, for each has
Its own purpose and place,
They should support, not eliminate each other.
What are you afraid of?
Sipping the melancholy woven in poems,
Our thoughts, calm rivers under the moonlight,
Meet and unwind, share, support each other.
Ah, Poet, Poet, enshrouded in immortality,
Our souls travel like two wings of dreams,
Time binds us, splits us, entwines us
In elusive charms, in light and forgotten night.
Outside my house, there is a crane.
Much to my disdain.
Tearing up my lawn looking for fossils.
But is it really worth tearing up my garden that’s full?
Tempting, trouble.
There are no valuables in the rubble.
Only a few spiders which feel frightful.
Stealing the nutrients in the soil.
I know I can replant soon.
Saddened by the dead rose’s tune.
I could cook my soup tonight.
But the basil was lost in the blight.
They knocked over my mailbox too.
There’s only junk mail in there, that’s true.
They left behind a shovel and brush.
I could plant soon, but what’s the rush?
I do my own investigation.
Into the lush imagination.
Might as well continue searching around.
They already destroyed the ground.
So I continued to dig for weeks on end.
Until there was nothing else to upend.
A centipede under a stone.
Asks if I found a dinosaur bone.
Even if I find more than dust and debris?
Will I ever feel free?
Is there any way to stop fretting?
Or stop the sun from setting?
One of those maple seeds fell nearby.
I wonder why…
In this destroyed place.
There is no race.
There is no grass to live in.
So I let it blow into the wind.
I wish I could as well…
But maybe I’ll just dig a wishing well.
Feels delight when a mouse comes out.
He knows what this squeaking sound is about.
You wouldn’t think this squishy little guy-
Would have a taste for meat in his eye.
A hunger for crunching bones.
For which he never atones.
So when this mouse burrows away.
There’s nothing to keep the caterpillar at bay.
So he sits outside the burrow.
As his teeth start to unfurl.
His antennae turn sharp as can be.
He’s quite strong you see.
But when the mouse doesn’t come out-
He starts to pout.
Because the mouse just let himself starve underground.
With nothing to eat around.
Maybe that’s better than an insect fate.
Which anyone would hate.
But caterpillars are small as can be.
Can crawl underground you see.
And hey, this burrow is quite wide!
The mouse carved it when he was plump inside.
But when the caterpillar reached the end.
There was a nothing to upend.
The mouse was nothing but bones and tendons now.
So the caterpillar almost took a bow.
But hey, who says a squishy guy like me can’t chew through bone?
Why would I complain and moan.
When my teeth get longer and stronger with hunger and pride.
Chomp through bone, let’s see what’s inside!