Long Wonderland Poems
Long Wonderland Poems. Below are the most popular long Wonderland by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wonderland poems by poem length and keyword.
-Monarch's Madness-
As I’m sitting here, enjoying monarchs’ fingers of a dead man…The dry smoothness of the night. I privy the requisite.
In the discomfort, of comfortability…Watching time go by.
There’s this thought that runs wild in the head; that of parameter. It’ll be an interesting year. Schrödinger’s cat.
Is fate alive, tethered? Or has it yet to enlighten the veil?
The field of captivation is astounding. The wonderland grasping. Thou throat, of one’s mind. When does thee catch a break? It is inherently rhetorical. A silent mocking.
Not enough substance for a jay, presumably. Could this really be the start of an end? Or the end of a start?
I’d like to know, where I am to be situated in this universe. Rather than basking as an idol in adolescence, pondering head notions that do not exist.
I saw her on a cold winter night
Her beauty made my heart take to flight
The loveliest woman my eyes had ever seen
She was my beauty – she was my queen.
Her eyes shone like the reflection off of the water
Blinding , hypnotic, putting me in a trance
All of this at first glance.
Her hair flowing in the wind
Like the beauty of an eagles wings in flight
Covering the sun from my sight.
She is a rose blooming in the winter snow
How that was possible – I’ll never know.
She is the rainbow high in the sky
Extending her beauty from one end to another
Like the love of a mother.
She is like the ocean – deep, dark, mysterious
Treacherous and yet calm and can take you
Deep into the depths of her soul, where she will keep
You and take hold.
Her beauty on that cold wintery night
Drained me from all my will and my might.
Beckoning me to join her in the snow
Freezing my heart with nowhere to go.
Her hands calling me to come to her side
And telling me:” my love is as pure as the white of this snow
Can’t you see it, please don’t go “.
I walk into the snow with my arms outstretched to her
Feeling her love pulling me in like the ocean pulling the sand
Taking me deep into a wonderland.
FINDING TRUE LOVE AT LAST!
© L. RAMS
Letter to the rest of the world:
Don't feel sorry for the United States of America.
The vast majority of we the people get along just fine...
It's the five percent (dead enders) fueled by the press
that think Lady Liberty owes them something.
That democracy has somehow failed them.
Truth be told, they have failed democracy
They've turned their shortcomings into flaming arrows
firing them at successful members of society.
In their regressive malice in wonderland world-
good becomes bad-bad becomes good
rioters and thugs are turned into martyrs
For the most part, we the people are doing fine.
Plow horses plodding along, doing our best in this short life.
Learning from the past-not dwelling on patina sins.
The disgruntled losers amongst our society
spray-paint America as a horrible place to live...
Funny thing is that I don't see any of them fleeing.
They'd rather continue taking and complaining.
With no intention of ever giving something back.
The haters in this country find grand wizards in every breeze.
Behind every thin blue line, with every stir of a leaf.
Some even put Jesus into exile.
For crimes of purity and compassion?
The grand wizard illusion is that America is systematically racist
This is the latest flavor of their out-of-touch madness.
If that were true, a black man would have never been elected
to be the leader of the FREE WORLD.
Are you awoken yet?
Morning
The doctor called the next man in
And offered him a chair
Observing him in silence
As he wrestled with despair.
A minute passed before they spoke
And when he raised his head
With tearful eyes he whispered that
He wished that he was dead.
"Those tides wave back and beckon me
When I walk along the sand.
I gave up life at sea and now
I’m all at sea on land.
I used to be a real man
And was never mocked before.
I hide each day inside my shell.
With no 'porpoise' anymore.
Rules of logic don’t exist
In the world I live in now.
I really want to help myself
But sadly don’t know how.
I planned to study back at school
But admit I didn’t go.
Schools of whales and schools of fish
Are the only schools I know."
The doctor was the best in town
And knew her patient well.
She agreed to medication
And support throughout his hell.
She also gazed towards the stars
To muster up some hope
And helped him try to help himself
In ways that he might cope.
Noon
The man returned to clinic
Sounding cheerful as he said:
“Thank you I'm much better
You have helped me clear my head!
Your input worked! I’m feeling well!
I'm off to sea tonight!”
The doctor sat back in her chair
As things did not feel right..
Night
He watched the lobsters from the sea
Dance on the croquet green
Then came around in hospital
From what felt like a dream.
Later That Night
Half-awake and half asleep
With the doctor near his side
He learnt he’d tried to end it all
And very nearly died.
"A nurse agreed to follow you
And then pulled you from the sea.
He was acting on instructions
From a plan set down by me.
Your cheeriness was rooted
In your plans to take your life;
I sensed this during clinic
As your doctor - and ex-wife."
A frosty whitewash, whirling winter snow
smoothly shrouds a secret silent slumber.
Skies all awake, flying mosaics of row
music chirps cavort the sunset amber.
Gelid air turfs, chilled in birds of wonder
gliding through miles, unknown lands asunder.
Crackling wings flutter, snuggling in romance.
Distant forage calls, "Move till Sun is back".
Searching lakes and meadows, looks not askance.
Soaring high they perch, steer and gear in stack.
Feet tucked in wings, they roost in adhoc shack.
Coats, scarves, gloves, plummets an echelon track.
Cardinals and Bluejays, plump with fork tails.
Martins, Owls, Robins, in chorus engage.
Lens of cameras spy, beaks, wings and scales.
Moulting leafless trees, flamboys in plumage.
Willow, alder, birch, dark eyed Juncos stage.
Seeds and nuts in tree crevices, cold assuage.
Hope surviving Life....as Twitter migrates
Mystical Winter........ Marathon Flyways.
Dated 17th December 2018
submitted to Gregory R Barden's Strength thru Adversity contest.
HOW THE POEM HELPED ME GROW
As a beginner to the world of poetry, I always thought that sonnets were something very very difficult only to written by people as talented as Shakespeare. This was my first attempt to write a sonnet. For one whole week, I read all details about migratory birds, and almost gained an encyclopedia of knowledge. First time i realized how difficult it was to limit your thoughts to syllables and lines, and I struggled for another week to find and use correct words, counting syllables. The poem didn't get placed, but it gave me lot of confidence to attempt writing other forms of poems.
This poem was originally submitted to Winter Wonderland Poetry Contest
Urban Sonnet form ABABBB, CDCDDD, EFEFFF, GG
Poetrysoup Syllable counter- 10 syllable each line.
Sponsor Emile Pinet
He blinks in and out in a wingchair,
overhears what visitors say
when patients
can be talked about
as if not there.
People speak well of the dying,
even of dying strangers,
to him their words
prematurely shovel earth.
The terminally sick
must be accommodated,
penciled into time slots,
eased gently into oblivion.
He listens as he slips downstream
on a raft of morphine.
These last trips are scenes taken
from childhood books.
His own life story has become
absurd, it is almost as if
he is a character in someone else's life,
a Huckleberry Finn
whistling through Dantes Inferno.
What he really wants
is a rocking horse and ice-cream.
A nurse brings him ice-cream,
but it's the wrong flavor.
He wonders if anyone can see
the horse he rides upon,
his ten-gallon hat is as white
as a flying nun's Cornette.
The occasional visitors
watch the dying in dreadful relief.
Hypnotic minds drone like trapped bee's.
Frank Sinatra jets in from wonderland,
hands him a coloring book.
If only he had crayons
to fill in the blanks.
It was once upon a nursery rhyme,
An old familiar story line –
The prelude to some fairytale disaster
Where the trail of breadcrumbs through the woods
Is known to lead to damaged goods,
Bad coffee and a wicked morning after.
But I took the bait and ventured on,
Enchanted forest vagabond,
A sucker for a two-bit roadhouse gimmick.
Till at rainbow’s end I did behold
That emerald skyline, streets of gold,
And stumbled into town a hardened cynic.
On a quarter moon mid-summer’s eve,
My lantern filled with kerosene,
I shone a ray upon the Great Uncertain.
When the palace doors swung open wide
I got the hint and slipped inside
To peek behind the wizard’s flimsy curtain.
There were freakish treasures hidden there:
A giant’s tooth, Rapunzel’s hair,
The goose that laid the egg that hatched King Midas…
I was unimpressed with all that bling,
But then I found the One Big Thing -
The Hand that rocks the Cradle deep inside us.
It’s the sunshine in a mother’s smile,
The father of your inner child,
And every kiss too intimate to mention.
From the homestead where we plant our roots,
To the farthest place we walk our boots,
It’s there where Love remains our true intention.
Let’s make that cakewalk hand-in-hand,
Two refugees from Wonderland;
We’re good no matter where the twister lands us.
Regardless how the chips may fall,
There’s comfort at the mending wall
Where all the signs say, Welcome Back to Kansas.
I’m through with waiting for the elevator.
Come on, babe, let’s climb this beanstalk down.
On his long journey back to the North Pole
Santa Claus sailed beneath the silver moon
Frosty waved to Saint Nick, that jolly soul
And carolers did sing each Christmas tune
Santa Claus sailed beneath the silver moon
After delivering all of the toys
And carolers did sing each Christmas tune
Saint Nick brought joy to all the girls and boys
After delivering all of the toys
In a winter wonderland graced with snow
Saint Nick brought joy to all the girls and boys
And he could be heard saying ho ho ho
In a winter wonderland graced with snow
Frosty waved to Saint Nick, that jolly soul
And he could be heard saying ho ho ho
On his long journey back to the North Pole
1-5-2020
Christmas Pantoum Rhyme Poetry Contest.
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Photo 2
One orb and only one shines on in life
You are much warmer than the morning sun
Remember the volcanoes at Tenerife
Canary Islands paradise adrift in fun
Hanging there upon a limb of golden time
We conjure elements of joy forever
What favors in the mind recall unwinds
When in our orbits moon pulls down its lever
But there within the walls of love light sealed
The glow of life can’t hide inside forever
There in the wicked world concealed, revealed
That Winter breaks for kinder weather
My love with sun and moon gathered family
Their fortunes shine on together amicably
Entered Poetry contest: Winter Wonderland - sponsored by Emile Pinet on 12/27/18
Morning
The Innkeeper checked his watch once again
Hoping the chef's feelings weren't hurt.
The last time they were, he arrived two hours late
And then left, serving just his dessert.
Sadly the chef, on this day of all days
Turned up filthy, flies open and drunk.
A black cat meowed as the chef stumbled in;
He was unkempt and cursing and stunk.
The Innkeeper's head sank deep in his hands
As he needed his chef to be right.
The Tabard was busy and fully booked up
And was hosting a meeting that night.
Noon
To make matters worse, the chef's wife appeared
It was NOT what was needed at all.
She grabbed at chef's hair and kicked open his shin
And threw dishes and plates at the wall.
The Innkeeper tried to separate both
As utensils flew wild through the air
Then chef lost his balance taking with him a shelf
And pepper dispersed everywhere.
The chef lay there slumped and silent and still
He was bloodied and bruised on the floor.
His wife and the Innkeeper looked at each other
As chef sneezed and then let out a snore.
Night
With her husband in clinic the chef's wife revealed
The reason as to why he was mad:
- "Earlier that day he had finally found out
He was not my child's natural dad.
He took all of my money and spent it on drink
And the police were then sadly involved.
He falsely accused me of harming my son
And that issue has not been resolved."
Later That Night
Nobody ate at The Tabard for nights
But the Innkeeper learnt something instead:
- "..So I am your lover AND the father as well"
He said smiling to chef's wife in bed.