Long When Poems
Long When Poems. Below are the most popular long When by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long When poems by poem length and keyword.
.
az thuh burst uv
fridge light
privy
edvard'z kitchen
pitch
hern beam'd
visage
gleefully
mind yuh
find'n naykid
edvard
5 in thuh a.m.
'lone
who'duh thunk'it
likewise
amber morn'nin
deliver'n
eggz
in thuh pellucid frock
boon
")
*warning: this is only mine 3rd
"royal dip"...they've all taken me
over 3hourz tuh complete (each!) {this one 4plus; timeout make'n noah'z
yet, they're fun az all tuh think breakfast likewise hiz lunch for werk} (he luvz hiz pops ')
up...such thuh edification yet.. <]:)
*by-thuh-by; 'bout this "royal dip",
'tiz how it be when yuh live in
an appalachian zone (village '),
my deepest apologiez president
trump; i'm king in them thar hillz...much love ")
maybe they just need some oinkment
when pigs get laryngitis
i suppose they feel somewhat disgruntled
english teacher's nightmair
observed in a book store:
"sale - all spelling workbooks 50% of!"
too much of a good thing
poetry teacher: "i can't say enough about not
saying too much"
paternal paradox
my grandfather once told me
"never trust anyone... trust me on this"
where the h am i?
to a dictionary editor
'h' is the middle of nowhere
such a critic
i tried that new restaurant on the moon
good food but no atmosphere
a pun further analysis
the bonfire sank my boat
you can't have your kayak and heat it too
Humor attribution: all humor found online and converted to monoku form by yours truly.
Behind The Curtain Door
There's one in front,
there's one in back,
Both keyless doors,
with wooden latch,
All else there hangs,
the curtained door,
A simple sheet,
and nothing more,
Be the thirties,
ere Pearl Harbor,
Her dad was a
country farmer,
Mom just a girl,
preteen to be,
A wealth of growth,
a life carefree,
Her known siblings,
decade that's next,
For it was best,
be so complex,
As mom had lived,
during hard times,
People lived off,
nickels and dimes,
Her mom and dad,
gave her great cares,
For just be quite,
the child of theirs,
You see mom knew,
when told to wait,
Back of curtain,
door, yon lies fate,
Behind the
curtain door she saw,
Siblings crated,
by ma and pa,
She saw ma weep,
and pa steadfast,
For another,
sibling had passed,
Soda crate box,
aligned with sheets,
Adorned flowers,
on top completes,
Her mom then called
my mom by name,
From yonder curtain
door she came,
Grandma had,
*kukui-hele-po,
Grandpa had,
her sis. or a bro.,
Slowly she walked,
respectfully,
All offered
prayers, thankfully,
Mom was the
eldest of thirteen,
Outlived them all,
be piety,
Five she did share,
a life and more,
Nay, seven seen,
yon curtain door.
2020 February 26
*Hawaiian word for 'kerosene lamp', "kukui" is the oil from the candlenut, "hele" is to go, "po" is light
Howmanysyllables;
32 lines x 8 syllables per = 256 syllables total
Give me one moment to reflect
On wonted scenery once erect
The steel, glass and wood all made
A home for birds, and those who trade
From here, there, all did see (unless
housed in a cave) Hollywood on TV
Land of the free, Home of the brave
Brandishing banners with God's Holy Name
Pitiful shadows dance when we stir
Given voice from the Puppeteer
Those towers stand in our mind's eye
Etched in retro, the old New York skyline
A warning? God forbid some say
Unsung heroes receive their just acclaim
Poetic justice? Verdict delayed
The sun rose again, the Eagle soared frayed
Our savior trod to Golgotha
We too will walk the road anathema
Remembering when. looking forward to
(Nothing borrowed, blue or old) something new
The old poet and red wine
The old man gets up early in the morning; he doesn’t
eat breakfast but drink coffee, switch on the computer
look at the blank screen waiting for a word to come
so he can try writing a poem; it is a hard going so he
mounts his training bike and get some exercise.
Noon is the best time of the day; he walks to his café
have a good meal and a jug of red wine, which puts
him in a good mood and talk to the old men in the park,
Sometimes one of them say something interesting he
can use when writing. The old poet knows his best
work is behind him, but he still tries to tease another
poem out of his mind. His evening meal is simple he opens
a tin of soup and drink a few glasses of red wine watch
TV, or makes comments on the Twitter.
There was a time when I could answer why
I did the things I did and said the things I said
That time has long past and I keep holding on
To the moments that seem to tick by without
… a thought
~
There was a time when I knew wrong and right
I did what I knew was best – black and white
Without a gray area to try and test the waters
My hand held onto the gestures of hope that lives
… deep within
~
There was a time when I felt certain of my dreams
I did what I could to make them all come true
Filling my mind with promises to keep holding on
Letting the future unfold before me, inspiring me
… with vision
~
There was a time when my faith was alive, a fire
I did all that I knew to do to keep feeling the passion
Sensing that what I gave would always be gained
When the moments came back to me in the future
… inspiring me
~
There was a time when I felt sure of myself and my plan
The fear that might have taunted me failed to raise its head
Instead I was strong and courageous, certain to win the race
Valuing the assurance of grace that helped me keep the pace
… of compassion
~
There was a time when my life left its mark on the world
Reaching out to others with inspiration and encouragement
Creating a sense of caring that honored and sustained
Giving back to this place a portion of all that I had gained
… through living
~
There was a time when tenderness carried my heart
Touching others with the gentle promise of kindness
Knowing that there is joy in giving without any conditions
A chance at making someone feel the love that you have
… secreted inside
~
There was a time when all that I had in my mind
Was the knowledge that I was here to give something
Of the joy that I’d found when God breathed life into me
And I learned that the Love He gave was a love that would
… never end
Written and Posted on June 10, 2020
Time Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
His name was James Skene
He came from Aberdeen
Sent down to Edinburgh to die,
The brother of the Laird
Land and power shared
Everything that Scotland could supply.
But inward treasure captured mind and heart
The noose won't drag him and God apart,
So death where is your sting
When the edict of the King
Is naming God as a royal crime,
And the Covenanter's tone
Is God sits on the throne
Welcome to the "Killing Times".
The Privy Council told Skene to back down
But He loved and served a different Man's crown,
The sentence of the boss
Was death at Market cross
So that all the people then could see,
The covenant they made
Was a useless aid
If they thought that it would set them free,
He felt his life was not dear to him
Here are the final words of James Skene
"I lay down my life
For owning Jesus Christ"
He said as he looked up to the sky,
On a cold December Day
The wind and rope then played
Swinging to the tune of Martyr's cry,
Confirming what the world already knows
The blood of Martyr's make the harvest grow.
"You're so pretty."
Those words seem to define me.
A seemingly stable presentation of everything I could be.
My appearance must mean I am strong and stable in my own mind.
I must never believe every creeping and deceiving lie.
"She must be mean."
I must be the cause of all other girls' insecurities.
Not through my looks, but through my assumed personality.
I can't be hurt by anybody.
Words don't sting as much when they graze seemingly stable skin.
But they don't know that I am as weak as I have always been.
"Physical approval must be enough."
No one notices the skipped lunch.
No one cares about the me worth knowing.
All they see is the me worth showing.
The illusion is not me.
It's your seemingly stable certainty of who I must be.
JUST DUCKY, WHY?
“Oh, look, my little Johnny’s the only one in step.”
It had always seemed that way,
somehow, no matter how hard he tried
little Johnny just couldn’t seem to get it straight.
He colored outside the lines
just because he thought the hippo
should be a little bigger, rounder,
you know, like a hippo.
He was told by the music teacher
“he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket”.
Little Johnny didn’t care too much for choir
but he sure liked to sing those alleluia’s - loudly.
He was, or at least was told he was –
too slow for the track team
too short for the basketball team
too soft spoken for the debate team.
That he was, always would be, “a duck out of water”.
“Well, the duck seems pretty happy in the water”
“and always goes back in when he wants to be happy.”
“I wonder what, or where, my water is?”
Over time little Johnny accepted his fate,
celebrated being the only one in step with himself,
colored outside the lines, sang off key and loudly,
understood that he danced to a different tune.
Not much has changed for “little” Johnny.
Oh, he got bigger, accepted his “duck-ness”,
still can’t carry a tune in a bucket,
is still too slow, too short, too soft spoken.
Yet he knows that he is just fast enough,
just tall enough, just loud enough,
and just musical enough for himself
and he wouldn’t have him any other way.
John G. Lawless
2/20/2015
Submitted – Out of Water – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Sheri Fresonke Harper
The voices that carried on the wind said Come
Broken soul for whatever the reason. The man
Wasn't paying attention to where he was going
When he came upon the lamp lighted wooden
Staircase.
Climb. Come to the harvest feast. Where you will
Be our special guest.
Stop! Think! Listen to reason before you take
That first step up on to that base
For each step you take will erase
Everything about you. Really! You jest.
The voices that carried on the wind said Come
Broken soul for whatever the reason. The man
Wasn't paying attention to where he was going
When he came upon the lamp lighted wooden
Staircase.
There's a lot more to this than meets the eye. You
Have thought this through have you? Let's see if
You leave who will remember your face?
When someone mentions your name who will
Show any interest?
Stop! Think! Listen to reason before you take
That first step up on to that base.
If you take it you won't be in any one's data base.
Who talked to you? Did you hear anyone who was
Putting up a protest?
The voices that carried on the wind said Come
Broken soul for whatever the reason. The man
Wasn't paying attention to where he was going
When he came upon the lamp lighted wooden
Staircase.
Soon you will be out of this place.
Why are you distressed?
Stop! Think! Listen to reason before you take
That first step up on to that base.
Why do you tarry? Isn't this what you wanted
Not to leave a trace of yourself on the human
Race?
Check your mind. You'll see you were never
Second best.
The voices that carried on the wind said Come
Broken soul for whatever the reason. The man
Wasn't paying attention to where he was going
When he came upon the lamp lighted wooden
Staircase.
As he turned away the voices that carried said
We are glad and so are your loved ones that you
Thought before you took that first step up on to
That base.