Long Wattage Poems

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


Anyone


Facebook flight, a messenger pigeon 
Each Pageant shuffles pretty women 
Most admired tiara sparkle temporal 
Sash off strategic take trick terminal 


No need to tweet esteem over media
Stern sensei recites reprimand, sepia
Cyber courier delaying defeat in fury
Gathers fragile artefacts via the jury


Thrown to past season, bent bouquet
Creases curtain backstage, showcase 
Effort effected in gloom glows wattage
Wife writes fairytale wedding marriage 


Health heralds husband’s regard sole
Seashell static fuzz phases out vitriol 
Ocean sunk scroll in bottle, lost title 
Cut circuit campaign silences recital



        
             25th January 
       Objection Overruled
Form: Couplet


Premium Member 'tis Twilight Trips

‘Tis twilight’s trips on dawn made sun errant,
Go forth into time and pay due homage, 
And your return to silence is current,

Those with weak goals are made less coherent,
‘Twas a toxic night pace turns back a page,
‘Tis twilight’s trips on dawn made sun errant,

The shadow of friends faces on crescent,
As the line grows, there will be no shortage,
And your return to silence is current,

Glaring eyes, like those who got a warrant,
Shield them from lights that have simple wattage,
‘Tis twilight’s trips on dawn made sun errant,

Recurring promise and slumber present,
Cherub’s arrow shot caused, clock to the stoppage,
And your return to silence is current,

Indeed this was a lesson so pleasant,
Fingered string to thine heart for storage,
‘Tis twilight’s trips on dawn made sun errant,
And your return to silence is current.


2019 September 19

Strike While the Iron Is Hot

Cuz while ya steel got
moxie, don't nix chance if only a dot
before death finds 
     flesh rotting alot.

A self-actualized fringe benefit
     as I racked up
     orbitz round sun -
     with increased measured,
     (albeit neglected) ragged, and
     shot thru tattered (turn shroud) -
     regarding chronological yardage
brought to my dimming wattage -

sputtering third eye blind, sans
     hindsight surveying extensive
     emotionally frenzied groveling with
     a lifetime penitential wreckage,
whence urgent critical (update)
     foisted upon formerly entrenched
     hermetically sealed voyage -
sequestered self wrought fallout,

     viz long stretches of 
     time irretrievably gone with the wind
     found me averse toward
     commingling with village -
peopled within sin king
     precincts of Lake Woebegone
     joyus kneaded livingsocial 
     natives, now visa

     vis (nee this past
     and present atheist)
     discovered the healing power
     of powder milk biscuits,
     when accommodated within Norwegian
     bachelor farmer vicarage),
qua pained obligation now
     imposed kickstarted mandate

     to pay dying wage
clearly written along,
     the sub weighted psyche walls
     (over time) easily read
     across my wrinkled visage,
where former cumulative
     years of existence
     pitched yours truly

     figuratively teetering upon
     precipice of abyss gave vantage
     written in telltale creases
     countenance spelling umbrage,
against me - asper tonnage
     schlepping psychological Matthew
     Scott Harris "baggage,"
wrought from decades

     worth of uncultivated tillage
cuz n'er did I gather rosebuds...
     during prime mortal teenage
stretch, thus present
     day agonizing suffrage
yawning chasm miserably houses
     bleak (Dickensian) testimony,
     sans recovered anorexic

     (NO...NOT... NEVER 
     bulimic), but feebly
     endured desultory stage
punctuated quasi (moat)
     towed riddled rattle trap ship
     of state into deadly scrimmage
defies propped up 
     moxie succombing unrelenting
 
     weathering, unforgiving savage
nasty, brutal and short sabotage,
wherein futile - short 
     changed growh opportunities 
     forfeited developmental stage
opportunities introverted 
     vehemence doth rage.

Sucked In Sun

Midsummer vehemence stows heat for later
        Solar film ominously watch hot arc
        Tilt tracks trajectory, power cater
        Stashes post sizzle to supply light dark


        Socket slit subservient incubates
        Arrow of assurance inserts cable
        Voltage their pairing impressive creates
        Self derived to electric capable


       Autonomy admonished with a switch
       Loins bearing in luxury breed evil
       Informed about squalid impoverished
       Ignore affluent vantage for reprieval
     
       
       Overloaded homes groan under panels
       Tainted rich roads tune rigid channels




                 
                      16th January 
                Wealth rotten wattage
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Swimming With the Ducks

The sun blazed hot, no cloud for a respite.
Life was hopeless, wretched and desperate.
The grass a withered brown, and tree leaves sparse.
No shade for the living, summer a farce.

Rockeries were lichen free, the rill dry.
Hopefully, the food caters would pass by.
Sally and I sought rest in our cottage.
The air conditioner used its wattage.

The best thing was that behind was a pool.
Where all our dark ducks could swim and feel cool.
In our gear, we jumped quickly with the ducks
Until the caters came with their big trucks.



 Just a scribble
for want of better things.
Form: Couplet


Premium Member The Can-Can

“what inspires you to write
such indiscriminate indiscretions
like that?” he speaks to himself 
and thinks 

not long 
without thinking,
unnaturally he feels,
something, so
 
he promptly writes 
it all down 
without a further
doo-diddley-day

there you go 
a muse 

the muse amused
reads his take on it all
and up her mind goes,
the ride, like a pole 

flags, waving
checkered, 
black and white,
racing all the way

up and down
down and up 
the rollercoaster thrill
of it all

jack was planting seeds
for his bean stalking tour 
counting the footsteps 
along the imprinting way

she wasn't eating
her curds and whey

you have to be quick 
like you know, 
nimble
sometimes

she galumphs
naturally 
unnaturally
across the page 

burlesque,
headlights 
turned on, full beam, 
delivering the splits

smiling 
for laughs,
the laughs, 
always splitting the mix

can-can 
she thinks,
masked, yet best
in tap dance shoes

nakedly 
confronting
fingers tapping
minds pointing

un-a-mused
qué más se puede pedir
Spanish for those untouched 
uber tall flaming flamingoes

que puis-je dire
French kissed
all the way
for the les enfants terrible

a - mused
fearlessly venturing
forward
for more

let them go, 
the others
waltzing Old Time 
away, out the door

'tis better
elemental 
she feels
the win-win

can-can 
she thinks
and smiles
amused  

indiscreetly 
not 
turning
away

win-win
she smiles 
a full-wattage
salute

can-can 

She
thinks,
begin 
the beguine

indiscreetly 
not 
turning
away




Candide Diderot. ‘24

Premium Member Good Night To You

‘Tis twilight’s tips on dawn made sun errant,
Go forth into time and pay due homage, 
And your return to silence be current,

Those with weak goals are made less coherent,
‘Twas a toxic night pace, turns back a page,
‘Tis twilight’s tips on dawn made sun errant,

The shadow of friends faces on crescent,
As the line grows, there will be no shortage,
And your return to silence be current,

Glaring eyes, like those who got a warrant,
Shield them from lights that have simple wattage,
‘Tis twilight’s tips on dawn made sun errant,

Recurring promise and slumber present,
Cherub’s arrow shot a clock to stoppage,
And your return to silence be current,

Indeed this was a lesson so pleasant,
Fingered string to thine heart for storage,
‘Tis twilight’s tips on dawn made sun errant,
And your return to silence be current.

Premium Member Critterature: Critiquing William Blake

"Tyger, tyger burning bright
In the forests of the night…"
Archaic spelling set aside,
And not intending to be snide,
But really, Mr. Blake, I take exception.
While a tiger's luminosity
May pique your curiosity,
What the beastie's wattage is, you've no conception.
But who am I to judge you?
And so I'll not begrudge you
This "poesy" that was your lifelong passion.
But could it be that you were smokin'
A little "weed" the night you spoke in
That weird and kinda highfalutin' fashion?
Oh, we'll debate it, if you want to,
But it will come back to haunt you,
And the tiger, in the end, will defeat ya.
'cause metaphysical or not,
If a tiger's light is hot,
That's a sign he's getting ready, pal,
To eat ya!

Premium Member Electric Daisy

Humming just like an electric daisy 
a cloudless sky filled with high voltage;
The underlying sound calms my crazy;

Smoke from the trains rather hazy 
zoom zoom on elevated wattage;
Humming just like an electric daisy;

It’s like the song was made just for me,
listening to music scented with sage;
The underlying sound calms my crazy;

Biological senses reconstruct reality,
you escape your body’s weak cage;
Humming just like an electric daisy;

Creating art out of mental debris  
motivated by eliminating carnage;
The underlying sound calms my crazy;

Inner peace so prevalent lately 
some may say I rely on a mirage;
Humming just like an electric daisy,
the underlying sound calms my crazy.

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