Long Work Poems
Long Work Poems. Below are the most popular long Work by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Work poems by poem length and keyword.
A paleontologist, I specialized on the fauna
that flourished in the Jurassic era.
So, when I got an invitation to speak
in an international seminar last summer,
on the habitat and extinction of dinosaurs,
I set out to do my homework seriously
on the topic, lest I fail to meet the time-line.
The day before the scheduled date of my talk
I completed the presentation work at home,
and went to sleep happy after the hard work.
Soon I drifted dreaming 165 million years back,
suddenly saw a unique winged finger-shaped bird
in the pristine sky, flying with a flaming trail,
perhaps in fury, for I ignored it in my work.
From its distinctive features
I could figure out what that creature was.
It was a pterodactyl, the flying reptile of the Jurassic,
that entered my room through the open window,
and then angrily ate my homework.
February 9, 2021
Contest : ...And Then A Flaming Pterodactyl Ate My Homework
Sponsor : John Lawless
Childhood memories, fields of spring, watching bumble bees at their work.
Had a wiffle bat as did two younger brothers, now I feel like a jerk.
Did a deal of bashing, the occasional batting, my jar ready for the reward.
The mischief of youthful "must win" determination, or was it that we were bored?
Nine bees in a jar, three are just stunned, man I was doing so well.
One woke up, darn I was stung and now it was starting to swell.
Nine bees in a jar, this time they're all dead, or at least they know how to play.
Brian's got twelve, I'm slipping behind, and Mike's made a killing today.
Mike got bored and quietly left the game, ha! His bees are all mine.
Brian got stung, there goes his fun, returning to home for a time.
Looking over fields down trampled and Lord if grandpa saw what we've done.
Somehow I reckon he wouldn't be happy, but wow I must say that was fun.
Jar full of bees, I'm all alone, man there goes all the joy.
The things that we did, revisited by man, remembering when he was a boy.
CURVE LINES BY Dr Ranjit Dutta
Have you ever looked your curve lines on your palm ?
And questioned the existence of the fore- head lines?
Did the world ever make you question your destiny?
Someone told
Life is governed by these Mystical lines .
Is these funny curves direct our fate?
Did we ever wonder what might be the grammer of the curves?
How does the curves work ?
And how do they provide a solution to Earth-shattering problems?
These little lines determine our existence – past, present, and future!-it is said
Isn’t that funny Mondakanta?
Stuck between belief and disbelief
Never did I have the courage to wipe them out.
When my wishes are fulfilled, my life takes a beautiful turn
Thank them with joy .
Hopes to fly that can aim for the stars
Wishes no longer feel Like a distant dream.
Life starts to feel rosy Emotions reflect on it fragrance
Sometimes when very life begins to Burn,
And the pain Spreads like Wildfire the
Moment my dreams are crumbled by these vicious lines
It never fail to surprise me.
No-one knows the rules of the game nor will anyone solve.
Indeed a mystery !
Mystery
And mystery!
“Something More”
Softly pastels spill
from lips where
crimson speaks the heart
time brushed its coarse
hands along the body
of my work
and like a voyeur
you watched
the romance of it all
never once
being touched
your eyes kissed
the bell curves
as they rose and fell
such dedication
to the symphonic
values of love
you rolled over me
words you
cupped and held
read like a hot wet heart
something
of me in you
of you in me
you heard and felt
the whispered secrets
of wanting,
something more;
I held you
captive
in my hands;
penned.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“In my life
the piano sings
brings me words
that are not
the strength
of strings
Firey rain and rubies
cooling in the sun
Now I see
that my world
has only
just begun
Notes that roll
on winds
with swirling wings
brings me words
that are not
the strength of strings...”
Children were afraid of metallic plastic face robots
So the solution was to make them look real
Real?
Yes, Lifelike Optimum Robotic Assistant, LORA
She will be the best nanny you ever had, she never needs sleep
Programmed in all domestic chores and child safe and friendly
Children just love her...
Model Z12 2-4-6, lets call her Nora our Lora
The neighbors will be so jealous...
The children are happy and getting so smart
As parents no worries if were apart
Nora can protect, dress, feed even play games
Being a parent will never be the same
She's gentle and soft, eyes with a glow
Anything asked of her she already knows
The house is perfection, the meals homemade
Happiness is a LORA android man made
At night we never lose sleep
Nora is there if the baby weeps
If Tommy is frighten by nightmares
Nora can hold him and soothe away fears
We have it easy and are pleased
Nora has everyone at ease
Last night as we played Mommy and Daddy games
Nora came in our room and it felt strange
She heard me call baby and her functions stopped
Next morning maintenance took her back to the shop
The baby cries and Tommy is sad
The house a mess, the food taste bad
When can we get our LORA back?
Another week! Don't call me Jack!
Finally Nora is here
Everyone smiles with cheer
Nora save us from our fate
Parents can go on a date
But as we try to leave
Nora hands Susie a bottle
No Nora you watch the baby
It's just the Mister and me
Nora seems unsettled
Late at night I am in the shower
Nora comes in like a prowler
She begins to wash me
Nora please let me be
Nora no, she gets wet
Her body is anatomically correct?
But Susie it was just a glitch
Nora is reprogrammed and fixed
Besides the children love her...
Nora's eyes seem alive
She sways as she walks by
Never ages always is fair
Even has a pleasant scent in her hair
She is so soft to the touch
Susie is jealous. Too much
Spring and time to mow the lawn
Whose that with no shirt on?
Tan and teen with a gleam in his eyes
Fernando don't forget the trim
Clean the pool..
But Susie he is too lifelike!
Why didn't you tell me you got a gardner robot?
Baby, you hate yard work
Besides who said Fernando was a LORA?
PIECES
Life is a puzzled piece
Striding to fix our scattered equation
We're all fixing our lives
Because none was plain & made on arrival
To this galaxy called Earth
We all came to fix our puzzle
Torn before the face of nature
Our canvasses are now congested
From childhood innocence
With painting and hating,
Broken hedges and images,
With letters and fetters,
With stains and pains,
With scooped sheets of artistic work;
The imperfections of an artist, mortality of man.
Life is like an art mirror;
Check yourself, draw, paint yourself,
Design yourself, scoop yourself or screw yourself.
If I was a scattered face of aesthetic being
Would you find me, would you fix me?
Life is hard enough but we're tough enough
Zeal and zest not cast off.
We will fix our scattered souls,
To sail through until fulfilment.
VickWizzy
Art personified: Vick AdeDayo Manuel
https://mobile.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10217584107147269&id=1615647097&set=gm.2745950698750583&refid=18&ref=opera_speed_dial&__tn__=EH-R
Written by: Vick Manuel {VMP}
Copyright © July 31st, 2017
Silence for me is like a beautiful flower blooming,
and it is not found by turning off life;
but a hunger deep within me,
to find the balance of Yin and Yang;
Serenity is something I really work on,
it is a long soulful journey;
a spiritual connection to bliss and peace,
and in the mist of my mind a bridge is beckoning;
I think of this as a journey to find enlightenment,
that takes me where my thoughts lead;
and worldly noise I push away,
with courage I float in my mind;
I am a bird singing in the forest,
I am a cloud floating in an azure sky;
I am the morn' dew that kisses,
I am a flower with petals opening in the sunshine;
I drift on a smooth green pond embracing my silence,
and I am held to life by a thread;
that I can follow back to reality,
and with a sigh- I am home.
_______________________
July 30, 2021
Poetry/Verse/Held By A Thread
Copyright Protected, ID 07-1376-637-30
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Anything You Want
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judged 08/01/2021
Third Place
Spring is imminent,
but the salt marshes
are not aware, for
the air is cold and drear.
Patchwork of tan and gray
stretches toward the sea,
cattails and reeds bend east
in a still chilly wind.
Bayberry and rosa rugosa,
blackened as if by fire,
huddle together, backdrop
for frost bitten sedges
decorated here and there
with shiny spills, silver pools
left by the last high tide,
reflecting the emptiness
of a white winter light.
And still the marshes sleep,
waiting for a length of days
warmed by a stronger sun
to stir them from their long nap,
for juices to flow into
stiff, arthritic stems,
for leaves to branch out,
filling the marshes again
with a hundred shades of green
and buds of latent flowers.
Once again the process begins,
The unending work of rebirth.
while we work on days to be seen…
.
.
”… we share
a very wonderful dream …”
indeed
it would mean
global leaders
coming clean
pulling back deals
to push an ideal
about working
for what is really
in the people’s
very best real
“interest”
“and yes we’re due
and yes we expect
the very best of you”
hey mac…
“there is no deth”
and zero deal
if you ‘steal’ it
it’s the least
you can do
to truly know it
...that’s the only
way it works
“a pope stepped up
and called all monks”
it’s not about land
or what where is who
it’s about a stand
that’s taken
called “true”
”…to do lazy
as the Romans do…”
is to do a bit crazy
as the cornballs did
and play a little hazy
on the game boards lid
so I
got ‘busy’ with it
and danced my gig
slowed it all down
and popped a hood
had no idea
whereto be look
but took a Chance
and cracked a book
“the core
be in legions”
as it is all ways
to be heard before
a song from a cord
comes for a score
“and peering close
there too
be no knows
if they’d not verse
in an overdose
of friendly verbose”
...whoa! in a truce!
a robust and a
lasting trust
“to build a burger
in such an order
as to burn a bush…”
is to guide a collar
in such a way
as to turn
a tush…
;)
”…it’s MY brain we’re in
Mr.E…”
.
“there’s a corona on the stella”
”... she served two
and just had one…”
before ten.
Form:
It’s the bottom of the ninth and my turn to bat.
I turn to the crowd and tip them my hat.
The bases are loaded; three to nothing is the score,
Two men are out; this is what I live for.
I swing and I hit; it goes over the fence,
I am rounding the bases doing a victory dance.
The crowd is all cheering; the home team is screaming…
I roll over in bed – I must have been dreaming.
That girl in the office with the eyes so blue,
Asks me out for drinks when the work day is through.
We go to the bar and have an amazing date;
Finally getting together, we knew was our fate.
She has a gorgeous body and a beautiful face,
Even though it’s our first date, we go home to my place.
She takes off her clothes, I am staring, adoring…
I’ve awakened again - I must have been snoring.
I’m in line at the bank waiting to cash my paycheck,
When I hear someone yelling, “Everybody hit the deck!”
I fall to the floor and see a man with a gun;
The lady in the corner is starting to run.
He turns and he points; ready to take a shot;
I jump up and attack him so that he cannot.
I tackle him and grab him, bending his right arm...
What was that noise!?!? It’s the morning alarm.
In through my window, the sun is shining bright
My day is beginning; that’s the end of my night.