Long Zag Poems
Long Zag Poems. Below are the most popular long Zag by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Zag poems by poem length and keyword.
Again, I take my pen in hand.
Bring words to mind, so I can plan.
Compose a verse quite fresh and new!
Deciding on what style to do?
Each letter then I will suggest,
Flows quickly through the alphabet.
Great, this shall give me loads of choice,
Hoping you out there hear my voice.
In-case you don’t I’ll write it down
Just to ensure you will not frown.
Kindly yes, I considered that,
Let me decide the right format.
Making the meter rhyme I say
No other style for me today.
Organised with this choice, just made,
Presuming brings me accolade.
Questions although could still be asked,
Reviews received could me unmask.
Still, I shall understand if you,
Turn aside and do not review.
Undecided? you may have heard,
Value now from my written word
Will bring a Merry Christmas too,
Xeroxed this now sending through.
Yes, lastly, I will cheer and say,
Zip-a dee- doo dah- zip-a-dee ay!
ZIGZAG ZEBRA
On an auspicious day
under dazzling sunrays
as Sun took transit to constellation Libra,
from zoo, zealous zigzag Zebra
started to gallop
to reach the book shop
to buy Text Algebra.
Appeared a scary snake
and offered milkshake.
Shop owner was King Cobra.
02/01/18
Zig-zag, zig-zag, what’s coming next?
Just corners, twists and bumps,
No glimpse, no signposted clear path,
Just loads of holes and humps.
Day after day, just up and down
And twisting round and round,
No indication anywhere
Of where the end is found.
So much of life zig-zags around
Surprising frights and fears,
Uncertainties, anxieties,
And even desperate tears.
But stop! Just look! A bright new light,
With path so plain displayed.
And there’s a sign, a lovely sign,
So clear, ‘This is the Way!’
Jesus there is always waiting.
Yes, he alone’s the Way,
Troubles he turns to singing,
Transforms the worst of days!
Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” John 14:6.
~Nearly Done~
(Zany Zig Zag Five style)
Day is nearly done
Light is almost gone
It's another day
Time again has flown
Now is time to rest
Relax cause nights here
Time to stop and pray
Give thanks for today
God hears our prayers
He gives us blessings
Forgives our sins
He is so loving
Day to be thankful
From dawn to nightime
Moon is peering thru
Time to dream and rhyme.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
March.07.2016
~Author's Notes:
"Zany zig zag five" is a poetry style created by Patricia Ann Farnsworth - Simpson.
Again, I take my pen in hand.
Bring words to mind, so I can plan.
Compose a verse quite fresh and new!
Deciding on what style to do?
Each letter then I will suggest,
Flows quickly through the alphabet.
Great, this shall give me loads of choice,
Hoping you out there hear my voice.
In-case you don’t I’ll write it down
Just to ensure you will not frown.
Kindly yes, I considered that,
Let me decide the right format.
Making the meter rhyme I say
No other style for me today.
Organised with this choice, just made,
Presuming brings me accolade.
Questions although could still be asked,
Reviews received could me unmask.
Still, I shall understand if you,
Turn aside and do not review.
Undecided? you may have heard,
Value now from my written word
Will bring a Merry Christmas too,
Xeroxed this now sending through.
Yes, lastly, I will cheer and say,
Zip-a dee- doo dah- zip-a-dee ay!
Zig Zag Free steps to the mic, deck in one hand, jazz poetry in the other, bass line buzzing in the air/He’s a jazz poet, a poker player, forever chasing that ace-high flush life/where luck dances with discipline and rhythm keeps time with fate/
On stage, the room digs him with a trio or a lone conga whisper, and Zig flips syllables like cards, letting melodies deal him into new possibilities/
His genre is a fusion, a street corner orchestra: jazz, funk, rap colliding in friendly combat, syncopations jagged as city shadows, delivering truths in a blast and mighty roar/ He digs deep into Amiri Baraka’s spark, Gil Scott-Heron’s jazz spoken word-rap, Miles Davis’ cool fire, Albert Ayler’s skock to the cosmos, letting their ghosts tune up the room while his own words improviseto the sound of jazz/
Zig studies cards the way a monk studies breath—practice, patience, a little luck, and the art of when to fold or not/
He learns from every shuffle: the tell, the tilt, the courage to reveal what’s underneath. He uses cards as metaphors for his jazz poetry, life: risk, balance, probability, and the mercy of chance/In his word delivery, the syllables swing and swing back, a double-stacked riff that asks/What does it mean to win if you forget to listen to the masters/
What does it mean to lose if you’ve never learned to love the moment you’re dealt? He doesn’t chase a flawless hand—he chases the feeling of being fully alive, the ace-high flush of now, where every breath is a bet and every beat is a return to his jazz potery keepin' Zig Zag Free alive