Long Utilised Poems

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


How It Went Down

A decade of growth and decadent boom 
People didn't mention the debt elephant in the room
It was the charge of the bull
Many pockets were full
The search for a higher return was the motivational pull. 

But whilst stocks and shares rocked and flared
Investors held their breath in shock and fear
They seemed to forget that markets go up and markets go down
Because as long as uncertainty shows up, the cycle goes round

But to be fair the times were good, and returns seemed sure
The earnings of many corporations, continued to soar
The zeitgeist was the age of prosperity, profit and greed
It wasn't the time to question sustainability or question the need

Many financial advisers advised that it was the right way to go
"You should take advantage now, while all these rates of interest are low"
So many consumers took out mortgages, that they just couldn't afford
Including the 'sub prime', with bad credit, and of course the poor

But let's not forget, that the consumer went along, and played ball
Creatures of habit responding to the mating call, that beckoned us all
Deposits levels came down, loan-to-value went up
House prices bubbled and brimmed and we all drank from the cup.

Now the banks merged all of these mortgages together in lumps
Sold them as safe bets to investors, who were taken for chumps
Then the US housing market crashed
Now comes the the consequences
Unsurprisingly mortgage repayments started to slump

So called safe investments soon became worthless as junk
Families who had homes repossessed now facing the funk
Securitisation of mortgages now seemed so dumb
Regulators appeared powerless, dozing and numb

Lehman Brothers collapsed. America sneezed
The world became infected. Financial markets siezed
Governments and Central Banks now stepped into the fray
To prop up a system, that should have been reconfigured that day

Many banks were bailed; too big to fail. 
The bankers who were at the wheel, too big to jail.
The humble tax payer was forced to post the cash
And many years later many banks still owe this cash

So the world was saved but here's the 'but'
The pubic purse was utilised, to escape the rut 
Now all society must pay the price; take a hit to the gut
And suffer the pain, of historic public services cuts. 

Mike Concise © 2015
www.mikeconcise.com
Form: Couplet


Zoological Zoom

Cobblestones of pantry and a wide toothed grin. Visitors from afar pay no heed and paramount is the settling and uprooting of cultures old. Might as well be blood in that feather quill who prints octagonal lines on a parchment. The otters are arriving on their many boats. Their hats adjusted. Times of  affluential fashion and norms carried in a wide brimmed basket hat. Always with a bow. The many eyes and ears of tree lined shores listen to the arrival. And as the booming stick pounds on the floor of this jungle the rush of brown skin dashes to the floor. Garden not a wilderness. Dangerous it is to attempt to train a beast. Attempt not to understand a culture. And harvest only what us necessary upon landing. Beginnings are not a temple they are akin to a whisk. Whir whirring and causing carnage, chaos and death. The cavern then utilised for storage. Those that had dwelt side by side now shuddered in the new comers presence. Myths are a faith and a comfort when the camps of the intruders are land lepers. Lesions. Talua the wise woman of dragmo  speaks. Ordering all precious items be hidden in the sacred cavern. Enshrouded by canopy. Therefore unreachable. There it would be guarded by the blues. There it would come to no immediate harm. Yet, if one day the total environments were threatened with loss then the blues shall rise and with their many gifts call upon the sky carriages to assist the lands. Thus ensuring no single specie would be eradicated. So now to look upon the dawn. Imagining life as a fish or a prawn. Diving to depths but with no passports. Clapping and dancing with the bullfrog parade on bulletins. Tickets are not trains but trampolines to flies. Under a mountain pass moves a mammoth. Giggling bears in vaulted chapels. Undergrowth has reclaimed this place. And planets due are akin to pouring cream on strawberries on a very hot day. Weaving wavering weaponry weapons weeping wept webs weekly waking winking walking waves. *** potency. *** pickled ice cubes. Xx a pickle ice skating *** myriads of time paths in a juice. *** balmy bacons *** I think not a morning I wish fir a harmonic interlude of a dancing flower at midnight in a noodle broth. *** brethren. Brotherhoods. Breathe. *** zoological. X
Form:

Hippopotamus Having Hyperactivity

Hyperthermia can be caused by standing in slip streams in sluice dumps. It never really fails if ice water can run a lake from a rusted tap. And the mid morning broken by the drip drip drip from a nozzle. Squirt then. Nozzles are not noses and noses are not neon. But bringing a interdimensional b track record is now considered to be as slack as wearing dungarees in a cottage garden or a farm. Wow such rich aroma and oversized overspill of oversight. From a wide lusty frame. Whose discussions with a female mongoose will go unnoticed once the turmoil begins. Cover oneself with fifty six sheets, a record collection, five billion cassettes and consider life as a plant. Conversation cleverly choosing charismatic charming chequered chins chasing chests. And a dodo on a mountaineering expedition with two hundred tyrannosaurus rex, eighty-three teradactals and a half pint of lemonade in a nice clean jug. To wash with not drink. What on earth did you think. The amazement of some is often to the admonishment of another and the cruel multiplatonic indifference is what the name of the takeaway should be called. To be ingested in front of the ray machine. Hypnotic baby soothers. In mass. In amps. En masse. But not en suite. For that is merely utilised for the jam production in many hue and flavour. How very clever thought the passing bluebird. Halfway to town and twenty seeds left. Then right. Fortification of flames on a canal trip taking turns steering. Good. And fashion no necklace into a giant statue of an old hero. Hearing a moon beam then? Good. For at that elevation you should hear even the most daintiest cry from a single blade of field. Dare to dance with that then? Yes? Great. Fantastically freeformed frame fishes. And the hallways smile in castles worldwide. Grab then a hat,a coat, some gloves and build a symmetrical snowman with a crane. Hahahaha beetle borrowing books hahahaha laughing leering lecherous lurking leeches. Xxxxx hyperbolic z this is the midday bulletin from the p y q reporting live from the headquarters at 89.0 whisking. X
Form:

Stratification One Point One

An animalistic painting in a cave can be considered as magnificent as a fortified wine kneeling in a chapel. Chapels cheer chariots. Charging. And the baked shrapnel recedes from many a bridge. Sing then you field of mice. Ministerial movements make money. And la la la means no more than blah blah blah so go meow at the kittens then. To make more room is to situate oneself upon a skyscraper at midnight. In an eclipse. Rent is payable and taxable too in a breath of air. But light comes the clouds. Skipping over the skies. Smiling. Smiling in genuine friendliness and kinship. But no spaceship can ever really view a non descript hue who's origins are not yet scientifically screened yet known for eons by tribal wizardry. How quite sparkly. How quite fascinating really. Tepid are the duties of the necromancers arriving to marinade the meats. Many meats. Many meetings. And a discarded tissue rising into the atmosphere. Such flight. Wow. Speaking at this time are the arranged skulls. Who chat to the candles on a prearranged date. To be affixed is to outplay the game of chess in a six million acre field. So move then. Go on move. A mop is neither a praenomen nor a psychological thriller. It is merely utilised in cleanliness and hygiene in a hive is not a live performance in a baked bean can. Kick karate's kana ka kali kales. And a smoke omitting from an upside-down tent. On wheels. Arias arriving in a huge cloth. And deities dusting hallways. In jails. Or in ships. A frightened mushroom can never sing a rock n roll song and a rag in the cupboard sinks in rapid despair at over use. It must be cleaned. Cleansed. Rejuvenated. Revived. For to do is to dare and to dare is to do. And a pluperfect plop plip is an objective for a grey sky. Colours conjuring cosmic creations. And a fathomable bag with a ladies' scent. Diva not a tiny dog. Smell then? Hahahaha institutionalised ignoramuses'. Hahahaha trolls talking. Xxxxxxx  superflous snake spit. Xxxxx stratification z p y q Z
Form:

Polly the Planter

Is a strategy a slam of a door? Or another noise?

Will you just please look over there...
No no not there.....
There......
Right in front of you....
Now come on please calm down
For I am not speaking to you from under a table nor under a floorboard
And neither am I speaking to you from a lectern or a screen 
In fact it is high time that I actually introduced myself
I was born in the year 0 and my name is Pollyplanter
Since birth I have been carried all over the world and I have contained a vast variety of plants
From medicinal herbs in eastern sand temples
To pretty adornments in country estates of the west
I have also been sold over 500 times
It is quite amazing to see that this century although differs somewhat in theme
But is equal to others through sensations
And also astounding is the treatment of what was once sacred
Almost as if the humans of today are scared or just plain confined to a constricting thought weave
I am glad to be clad with the dust of the stars
Which became solid upon impact
Then I was eventually discovered and utilised as a winter storing pot by the cave ones
I was so fond of them all
There was 'Cresha' 'Urlaub' and 'Ercra'. 
Quite a pleasant tribe
I always got treated well and cleaned when necessary
And I liked to watch the dance of the horns in the glows of the fires
Although it became even more interesting when I got to travel with them
In log boats
And upon the sides of horses who when befriended through mouthfuls of food would allow the humans to ride them over the plains
This was a lovely lovely time
Perhaps I will share some more of my stories
Not only of this time of cave

But for now I will rest here upon this patio
Bursting with my foliage soon due to dry as winter approaches
But my green sides which trail will remain at this time
And I will smile in contentment and watch the busy bustle around me with great amusement. 

Z Stratigraphy Z at 29 flowers to 12 green vines
Form:


Categorisation Meow

When taking a stroll on a path filled with weeds the force fields are often not symmetrical nor are they aligned. But the shining synchronization of a sky lit sun cap can capsulize even the most untimed meal of a thought. Highlighting highways higher huge harboured harbours. In harnesses. Take no injected curd as a shirt. And generally imprisonment of bows and arrows is considered to be as detrimental as flying on the back of an air rifle or an a k 47. Into a bin. Ten ton heifers wobbling in dainty dresses. Passing posting pointing picking painting. And get a rolling pin, ten irons and ironing boards then iron output accordingly for to adjust a headdress is to float upside down in a force 209 gale over the side of a cliff holding one ear of corn, a basket, a little snail in a straw hat, and a 2000 foot ladle. Great isn't it. Wow. Wisdom wow. Week not a wreck. And wreckage is utilised in one single breath of an ancient storytelling form chanting in a mist. Seen and unseen. 5 b c. And then 13 52. And then 18 75 . And on an on an on and on. Whirling. Wave no kettle at a tree of iron mesh. And always make a nice carve in a cave. Wine arches marbles. Marvellous magnification isn't it. Gossiping grapes grabbing greedily. And a saintly seaweed arrives. Also in bed is an underwater charismatic chant. Charming. And one single 5 acres of a pickled onion can boil and burst. Digital dropping. Xxxxx cumbersome Cumberland Chambersburg clamp championship. And a dormant duck spinning. So rise and taste the heavily encrusted dew ball of a nice light fruit stew. Hahahahaha moon painted xxxxxxx coniferous clambering clam style ship to lighten loads and loaves talking about mixing bowls. In aisles. Xxxxxxx categorisation z z z z z no p y q but a large l and a big capital v
Form:

Horses Shall Be Back

Horses are in oblivion 
     Preferred man-friendly animal since evolution 
     Today, bit lost in mechanised, chip oriented revolution 

Important weapon in Bronze Age ancient wars 
Utilised by ancestors as domestic transporter 
But now restricted to official events splendour
And few sporting events, races, competitive glamour
And royal weddings, yoked to adorned buggies grandeur  

Horses shall be back in recognition
     With rising global warming concern 
     With Oil prices not expected to lessen

Antiquated horse carts demand shall be of high order
Benefits galore, herbivorous help sustaining on grass fodder 
350 degree excellent day-night vision, energy reservoir 
Capable of resting in short naps in standing posture
Horseshoe, saddle, bridle, rein only accessories major

Horse carts with no carbon emissions 
Saddle, hooves sans honking and pollution 
No ignition, start-up fuel consumption 
No requirement of spark plugs, engine oil can 
No seat belts, air bags for protection 

Man put blinders on horse for concentration
But are themselves blinded by mad race of globalisation, liberalisation
Man need to put the blinders on self–consumption
Be judicious, avoid ostentation to keep in check carbon emissions
Switch to horse cart, use killer vehicle only in emergent situation   

Today horses are oblivion
       If ignored concerns for eco-friendly environ  
       Tomorrow mankind could be in oblivion     

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Hitendra Mehta
May 2011

For Members contest – Eco-friendly Vehicle by Robb A.Kopp
Form: Rhyme

The Usual Chemical Baldin

Theme park legacies unnoticed
billion dollar scandals no one talks about
the under rug swept truth of the army taking over your government
telling what president to say what to what city
nothing out of the ordinary
the wars of our fathers, that carry on and on, with no break in between
just generation gaps, the three legs of one war, to fool the gullible
terrorism utilised to make impact statements of common knowledge
leaving you in your rut
in your corner
the pornographic clippings of muscle men
steroids and drug abuse used for a miscarriage
the usual carnival
the chemicals of the previous wars soaked into their soil
now nothing there grows
wicked this way comes
better this time
a law suit
hands washed clean, you look the other way when it happens to me
the gang unit doesn't even know
politically correct they are
selling the cover up
for the side effects of the wars of our fathers
the soils that soon will no longer bear fruit
something in the water, we tell ourselves is sewage
the pieces fit and we blame our mothers and fathers
after the doctors, after the brothers, and our lovers
where it all started, looking back to the deserted wastelands
of your chemical warefare
i see your footsteps
where the children starve
blaming monkeys for disease
we thought we would never be
something wicked this way comes
you look the other way
but here it is
the pieces fit
the usual game
hunger pains
disease
the cover up in your face
under rug swept
yet a torture
you dont see, blinding me

Emmett Till

I have a story to tell One that doesn't end well So I advise you to take a break For this will cause your heart to ache

A fourteen year old boy Used as a decoy To manipulate and destroy A message sent to employ A hatred to kill joy

He was a child A boy who always smiled With a spirit so wild They defined As something to scrutinise Something to demonise Something to criminalise Which ultimately led to his demise

They spread lies So they could despise Without having to apologise So they could victimise The woman to vocalise Her hatred she utilised The power of her eyes And fake cries So they would empathise And not recognise Her plan to intensify Their superiority To keep the minority Without democracy So forever in history We would be seen As an inferiority

Now this is the part What breaks my heart And is forever scarred By their lack of heart

The peaceful night Interrupted by their plight To start a fight Between black and white

Emmett Till was kidnapped He tried to fight back Took from his family home He must've felt so alone He was dragged and beaten His fate already written They took out their weapons Their weapons had spoken And sent that poor angel baby to heaven And if that wasn't enough They decided to have more fun Because they didn't see him as human So with a large metal fan They began To tie it around his neck Without regret But let's not forget The used barbed wire instead Left in the river His killers Whisper They called him a

Poker Sketch Brotherhood of Eternal Love

Poker Sketch “The Brotherhood of Eternal Love” 

What did we contemplate; 
while at the fire-front, sooted:
Hot faced, In three D:
In those long minutes, of pleasant ;
extended hours of misguided endless,
diluted from an unseen  “two named” hourglass !
Dripping; its sandy content.

It the darkness ; crept, It
sat behind our thin shoulders:
And hair strewn thinnish necks:
Levi collared rough stitched !
Thread bare to time. What ? did we consider ;
Pushing that heavy poker;
cold brassed, not utilised ever by Leonardo !

Sketching dreams, in the long cold ashes;
While Peters, "Supernatural" 
soothed our innocently: dirty minds and egos.
It had no identity name ! Just night; 
It may have been Winter outside
as coals spit, and sparks spat,
bare wrists sting ! But ; you continue the ash sketch.

What did we concoct ?
Wild ! in that balmy warmth
picking apart bristles: Stretching upward,
Glancing a fleeting glimpse,
at the tick tocked face, with muted bell, 
its loose hands skipped,
falling quickly too six.

It didn't matter; 
Warming the poker, Maybe ! 
To brand, the early hours,
making all of those hours ours,
proven marks; proof, 
vainly legal, safe from
inquisitors, and hungry dogs.

What did we digest ?
Through these nights of -
“The Brotherhood of Eternal Love"
until ; that creeping dawn, 
broke the Witches spell while along we rode
In those ashes of dreams forbidden 
and coldly stagnant: Our days closed.
Form: Imagism

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