Long Upwardly Poems

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


Upwardly Mobile

Sincerity in true beliefs
   Endeavours to pursue.
   Look deep into your mortal soul
   For therein lies the proof.
   A change of face, now one with great charisma.
   Creates a challenge to all thoughts, by being more eclectic.
   Then cast away all doubts, and put this alter ego to the test
   Unloose the past and say farewell, adieu.
   After all this fine extravaganza 
   living life the way we all should lead, nobodies fool.
   Improving know-how, learning lessons from the literati
   Zooming upwards, charming with a suave pizzazz.
   And to carry your convictions, with a certain kind of aura
   Thinking clearly,to do what is considered best.
   If however, much mistaken, don't seek out an alibi
   Overcome those smallest errors, without much more ado.
   Never doubt these qualities your future needs, to don a cap and gown.

   11 / 10 / 2016.
Form: Acrostic


Oh Dystopia a Tree 4 a Carpark

The long hard journey through
past to progress

These day's has far few many stops to make along it's tried and tested daily route to commute

As cutting costs has so many
uneconomic station laid bare
in it's path

Deemed unsustainable via 
accounting computer program
ledgers with countless bites
of memory to spare

Once filled with dumpster full
of coal and shoals of eadible
fish pulse and grain

To steel the masses for another
working day to breathe new life 
into industry

To service the never ending 
escalating intresest on banking
loans that prop-up wall street share
prices

In order to finance and build a new
Mall , Factory , Hotel or Flats

On the grave of our past long
before they have even been 
pronounced dead

It happened to the cowboys

It happened to the miners

It happened to the fishermen

It happened to the farmer's

What paradise for a car park

And job security for my family

And an honest day's work for pay 

And human value self worth

And yet and though it is with our
blistered hand toil sweat and
tears it takes to build your tower's

It will be enough or shall it enable
us to afford us to live reside inside
your castles wall's

As for us we are merely entrusted
and expected to garner you with
security

Guard your carparks 
Guard your gate's
Guard your monetary wealth

Good enough to raise your children 
Place them firmly in our custody
Pick them up from Ivy Schools
When one is busy out shopping
taking lunch , partying or upwardly
socializing

And all of this for the measly price
of knowing one's place and one
mistake could cost you and your
family

It's one and only breadwinner
who put and set aside his pride 
to hide it deep inside a box 

That signals the future is the station
boarded up you just past

ZILCH-Chapter 9-Hair

The hands let go with a cracking sound 
Whipping our Smith to the glowing ground
Bouncing and wobbling his jiggly joints
Green swirls into Red, boiling patches into points

The Machine retracts and swallows its hands
Coiling deep inside its rickety glands
No gagging, no cough, just a calm ritual
To pull out a key, almost entirely habitual

It holds its key in between fingers
And looks at our Smith that unwillingly lingers
"We are going up, no matter what you want
The door to the Vineyard, my current haunt"

Our Smith rises, and slithers up the path
Not wishing to incur the Machine's promised wrath
"It HaS BeEn A wHiLe SiNcE i'Ve BeEn GuIdEd
.....I'vE nEvEr ReCalLeD, oNlY aBiDeD?"

The Machine catches up and scans without warn
Our Smith jumps and wriggles with scorn
"No Smith should be able to think without Star
You are able for now, but stop acting bizarre"

Blotches burn his burns, twice smouldered
Our Smith knows his place and continues, bolstered
He upwardly stumbles, until he smacks into a mesh
A crosshatch door, laced with flickers of flesh

"Now, stand aside, fallen Smith of mine
I must open the way, so stand by that sign"
The Machine takes its key and finds a lock
No time wasted, it removes the block

The door unfastens itself from the clasp
Creaking open, with a gut-wrenching gasp
The flesh on the mesh fall in lumpy piles
Casting rainbow hues on the muddied Pink tiles

"WhAt HaPpEnEd To My FrIeNdS, MaChInE?
WhY cAn'T tHeY fOrM, eNgAgE iN rOuTiNe?"
The hands come again, instantaneous and fierce
Planting our Smith beside the Elevator's smears

The hands hold our Smith's stomach, gurgling
Pressing, tightly, bending inwards, hurting
Crunching bubbling boils in his body
Crushing thoughts of anything godly

........................................

Our Smith loses the energy to stay alert
As the crosshatch contraption ascends overt.

Premium Member Reminded Myself

I reminded myself in an unusual way,
While standing in a rain of a watery display,
Soaking in my new town's local splash park,
Remembering how I needn't be in the dark.

I let the risen structuredly flowing fountain
Grant me a liquified sense of liberation
As I basked beneath a cloudy sunlit sky,
Promising myself to never again deeply cry.

I reminded myself on this very special day,
From now on everything'll be more okay.
I embraced all my parts of that were hurting,
As I began speculating every new beginning.

I smiled fondly about who I am becoming,
As I close the chapters for every ending.
I danced in the upwardly cascading rains,
As I silently renounced away all of my pains.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member NATURE ENVIRONMENT Seen-

Pageantry mountains surrounded by valleys;
In the darkest dark in night lights speck of light;
Embraced by the enhancement of color tallied:
In silence I hear the faint Whisper Of The Wind;
Rivers weave and bind like a snake on land;
I see the ocean calm from the heavens;
Upwardly outwardly I form my arms and hands;
And within all the wrongs even in my right;
My etymology my language fourth I tally;
Floating amist the lower heavens;
Embraced by the enhancement of color tallied
Pageantry mountains surrounded by valleys;

1/10/26
Written by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
Form: Rhyme


Untrodden Path

Suddenly we appear
On a land with tinctured atmosphere
The cross, the moon and star
A sovereign state more ethnical than wazobia

A smooth and broad path before us
Hungry for our feet to break the hush
Alas the road becomes starved
With thorns and thistles upwardly breaking its soil

Like the ape, bigotry evolves
Extremist in every nook and cranny
Untamed by the scepter and khaki 
Callously murdering people in cold blood

Enemies of peace lurking around
Refusing to walk in the path of love
Killing people with façade of hide and skin
The unpunished traitors of love and nationalism

Dedicated to those who lost their lives in Southern Kaduna massacre
										YEMI AFO (2017)

X

In those bleak fields that so quietly lie - stilled as graves,
Between where the thin wind creaks and upwardly heaves,
Unseen feet can sometimes be heard 
Shuffling through the old woods discarded leaves.

For i have seen those strange distant lights
That detach themselves from heavens spilling crowds;
When dropping over the blindside of the little ridge
They rise to leap from cloud to cloud.

Impossible angles of inexplicable darting momentum -
Inwardly gyrating wheels now ingeniously turning;
Marvelous these the strange crafts of unknown design...
Yes - I have seen the night skies burning!

For well i remember as a reckless child
How i stole out to ascend that one forbidden hill:
Cast deep plans, set the clock ticking accordingly,
Rose, wrapped myself against Novembers raw chill.

Deep inside the Beech-hanger the Plough was struggling,
And over the despairing holt a devisive breeze...
As, of a sudden, on the edge of swirling darkness -
Showered particles upon vapourous ethers so violently seized!

Oh the hissing bolts of sizzling electrons -
Brilliance of colours like a dying meteors last rites!
Anti-Graviton paradox of mastered equational conundrum 
Igniting the latent freeze within winters sharp night.

Radiant orb held aligned by polar-opposites forceful lines,
Spinning upon a singular point with such consummate ease;
Roaring furiously liken fabled dragon of Arthurian legend,
Hot breath licking across lines of illuminated trees.

Momentary seconds that crept alongside an age enraptured
Amidst tumbling thoughts of  - "Just another Alien abductee"!
Then, gently tilting starboard, accelerating smoothly away,
Vanishing over the stacks and tiled rooftops of nearby Walton-Lea.

Often have i wistfully pondered in ever hopeful, watchful years:
What was it so witnessed as it hung before me in suspended flight?
And - with many cramming thoughts - groping for answers sought -
Recalling the wondrous moment of such an awe-inspiring sight!
Form: Rhyme

The Colours of Chuckie Egg

Golden is yourself, so Harry is golden, 
And there is no reason not to eat eggs, 
So the twelve eggs are also lain golden, 
On each level to signify there’s no begs. 

The ladders are pink to remind us that, 
Women can aspire by climbing to the top, 
By using their brains and character to pat, 
And patronise the male ego, hopefully pop. 

The ducks are indeed ducklings, children, 
And are blue suggesting they are boys, 
For the men who deride and hurt us when, 
They think that they can treat us as toys. 

The caged bird is yellow, just like the cage, 
Because the bird has the right to escape, 
And yellow, or golden, is the locked cage,
Since it has a key to unlock the tying tape. 

The green ground ramifies earth’s nature, 
Flowing with grace and beauty for freedom, 
Making it obvious that you can walk anywhere, 
Any posture, any reason, into any kingdom. 

The hen feed is piled up and pink, we wink, 
Like the ladders for socially upwardly mobile, 
Which to me states that it is good to drink, 
And of course eat, therein you can be capable.
Form: Quatrain

The View From a Window

A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting hue, 
Momentarily ignited by stray 
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
Rainbow...
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating 
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking 
Dawning,
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly 
Spills 
Into the trickling replenishments 
Of many gushing and silvery little 
Rills.


Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully 
Thinking...
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great 
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find, 
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and 
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its 
Back on the social conflicts 
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Vice;
Encumbering a soul with its petty 
Squabblings,
Imposing upon with demands and
Avarice...
When placing unnecessary burdens 
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome 
Strife!


And still stood, 
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost 
Unawares, 
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing, 
Inattentively stared...
Until...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared!
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
Over 
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which, 
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate 
finality,
Dejectedly hang...
Each draped aside of the cold 
Reveals.
Form: Rhyme

Pewterspear Track in Yellow: A Sonnet of Sorts

The wind rose early with the busying dawn;
And, rushing into the long avenue of beech -
Laid down years ago to accommodate labouring feet -
Began to scatter over neatly cut verge and lawns
With its own inimitable unruly gust, blow and fuss...
Within a cascading maelstrom of vivid bright yellowness.

Against strong trunks, held firm by steadfast roots,
Groans from creaking boughs as they upwardly heaved
Upon frantically thrashing branches showering 
                               rusted, golden leaves;
Carpeting the rough stones below my trampling boots.
A mad kaleidoscope of leaping, swirling, skipping 
                                             colour
Where, as a child, I had once rediscovered...

Two green sandstone gate pillars sat well back
That ushered me under this arched, canopied track.
Form: Rhyme

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