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Write Narrative Poems | Narrative Poems About Write

These Write Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about Write. These are the best examples of Write Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative |

The Street Front Cafe

I come in from the blustery wind turning to shut the door behind me as 
a gust launches into the café, sending a quick chill amongst those already seated.
I pause and take a quick look around the room. I smile as it’s not full yet but there are enough here to make the place cosy.
I notice a smattering of pictures on the wall but that isn’t why you come here. No, you come to the PoetrySoup café for the poetry and prose.

Being new to the neighbourhood I wander first towards the closest wall to catch a quick glimpse of those who have been honoured here.
I smile as I recognise a few names.

Loosening my jacket (there must be a chill in the air as I seldom wear a jacket!) I head over to the serving area to place my order. A hot chocolate to start with and a nice piece of black forest cake.
As I wait to the side I turn back into the room , taking in all the surroundings. There is an air of hominess about the place.
The worn black and white squared tiles on the floor, show scuffs and cracks.
The chunky square wooden tables and chairs with neat condiment holders to the side.
As I take my order I stop for a moment as I search for a spare table.
Amongst the conversations and laughter a phrase stands out and I turn to the table where it came from “Hvorfor Takk” (why thank you – Norwegian) I smile as that can only be Anne Lise. I recognise her Norwegian although mine is very basic and very rusty.
I make my way over to greet her and say hello.
I notice 2 other women sitting with Anne Lise and recognise PD – Linda in a flash as well as Andrea. “Hei I am Thomas and you must be Anne Lise.” I say as I arrive at the table and have caught the attention of those sitting there.
A huge grin lights the faces of those seated with my introduction.
“May I?” I ask standing before the only empty seat at the table.
“Please do.” They answer together then laugh.
Before I can all three stand and
Anne Lise introduces firstly PD Linda, we exchange a hug and our hello’s.
I recognise the next woman and jump in before Anne Lise can introduce Andrea. We hug and all sit, chatting away like school children waiting for the teacher to arrive in class.
They all turn around in their seats excitedly and start pointing to other members who are busily in conversations at their own tables.
 “Over there is Kelly D, sitting with Gail and Mystic Rose” says Linda.
“…and Yvette Kelley with Bindu,” interrupts Andrea.
“Connie Moore is over there past Skat-Aux and Lucilla,’ points Linda.

I smile as heads turn at times to stare in our direction.
Standing I excuse myself for a moment as I head across to various tables to say hello to all those that have made me feel so welcome.
I share hugs with Kelly and Bindu, we share a laugh for a moment as I move onwards.
On my way around I meet Beverley Crespo and stop to share a quick conversation before completing my circle.
There are so many others in here as the place is filling up now.
Outside a change of season blows cold through a bleak neighbourhood, but inside there is a warmth in the air that comes with friendships and love.

I look around before sitting again and smile.
Spying my forest cake Andrea stands and heads to the counter.
Bringing some chocolate cake back we all laugh.
Anne Lise asks me about my Norwegian heritage and tries teaching me a few more words. I try but just can’t quite get them yet which makes her laugh. Linda asks about my writing and in turn Andrea and I smile at the bond we already have with our friendship.

Before the night is out I have shared moments with all of my wonderful friends. Kelly, Gail and Mystic as well as a laugh with Bindu who has the warmest smile. Then I got to chat with Skat and Lucilla, Connie, Yvette and Beverley with whom I shared some heartfelt words.

It’s getting late so we shuffle around and say our goodbyes.
Before heading in our own directions. Some left in pairs. Others in groups.
Some left alone but with a warmth inside that will burn brightly until next time.
Come over and drop in anytime. The PoetrySoup café is always open until late and they serve the best friendships going around.




Details | Narrative |

Call Me Gonzo

For thoose of you who may not know.
Just call me gonzo I write the absurd for life is insane and sometimes 
it takes a madman to speak the truth so very clear.

I write for the broken vacant faces that have lost all hope.
To the dreamer who's well is slowley running dry from everyone
telling him to stop wasting his time.

I write like a endless highway fueled by whiskey and wild women 
every adventure leads to pain but life is pain and i love in spite of it.

I thirst for every unseen mile the desert my brother it's people dwell
in the spirt of the west the opium parlors and brothels spirt still linger.
I write with a hint of danger and a promise of disaster.

Im a blues player whos trying to out run the devil.
Im a outlaw riding to cross the border a woman looking to the 
empty range for my return.

I write because I breath in a world were the creative air has gone 
stale.
The bottle sits apon table and I welcome any strangers company
I just rather that stranger be a warm woman instead of a 
unfriendly amigo who is a little jelouse.

Write to be more than just part of the highways landscape.
Some may call me crude crazy insane some even vulgar and 
liar and thief.
But aside from thoose compliments.
No matter what you may call me.
Dont ever forget to just call me gonzo.


Details | Narrative |

A Story

It was on a Christmas Eve
early in the morn
into a world so often cold
a little girl was born.
Her parents, they did love her,
the way that it should be
but her father, who's a good man,
had been raised with cruelty.

When he doled out punishment
for all her childish ways
the lessons that he taught her
would stay with her all her days.
Growing up was never easy
and she grew up so confused.
Other kids did more than tease her
and at home she was abused.

But she grew up all the same
then came to that time of life
when she thought she was ready
became a mother and a wife.
They faced a lot of hardships
but tried to love anyway
and her husband, who does love her,
has been so mean along the way.

Yes, life is hard for everyone
this woman surely knows.
Hate and misunderstanding
seems to follow where she goes
with so many quick to tell her
that she is always wrong
so many times she has been shown
that she just don't belong.

She tries so hard to understand
the reasons for her tears
and is punished for her feelings
as she has been all her years.
She knows that there is more to life
than what always seems to be.
All she wants is to be loved
without the cruelty.



Note:  My dear friends, this is not an easy write for me but a necessary one.  I was at a very 
low point in my life and I prayed for God for direction or to let it end.  I wrote the poem I Am 
then joined PoetrySoup.  I know God led me to this wonderful site for a reason.  I may still 
have a long way to go but I am starting to move forward.  I want to thank you all for your 
encouragement and kindness.  Being able to write again is helping me and as fellow writers, 
I know you understand.  Thank you for sharing with me and teaching to become a better 
writer.  God bless you all and Happy Holidays!  Love, Robin.


Details | Narrative |

U F O

Under the microscope we are under watched by a near by species

For some reason they think we are a life form that takes it to easy

Over the years we were abducted; that was a mistake the aliens became uneasy

Unique in several ways we are human and that they see we are strange

Fooling them we act very hostile yet our mindset needs be rearrange

Opening our minds they started to look, but our minds seems to weird and derange

Upset, the aliens take our species to try to understand

Freaks of nature we seem to gather with costumes and sounds of band

Old as time they been coming to our planet and this is what they found, like us, land

Unrelenting we humans seem to focus on a different path

Feelings we have the aliens do not understand what we have

Odd we are, we are the only species in the galaxy that really know how to have a bath

Unrealizable that we do adore the stars and lights in the sky

From all our studies we look up and see the lights that make our world, we cry

Only now we reason with the aliens we are fools in our world and we sigh  


Details | Narrative |

New Paths

A new path is what we seek.
The surroundings are taking a peek,
Going through, very meek,
Seeing no bleaks,
Getting piqued,
While hearing creaks,
In the new paths that we seek...

The new path is what is found,
Going through forests bound,
Going through the path inbound,
With soothing and raging water sounds.
Walking confound,
Silence profounded,
Sight astounded,
Passed through burial grounds...

Seeking for another way around,
Noises resound,
Spirits surround,
The paths newfounded,
Our instincts compounded,
Followed by the hounds,
Echoes in ultrasounds,
Passed through mysterious breeding grounds...

Going to stamping grounds,
Trying to get off this ground,
With those burial mounds,
Death moving the wheels around,
Silhouettes running aground,
Trying to leave safe and sound,
Passing through some hunting grounds...

Seeking for common grounds,
The mistaken path redounded,
Regretful screams abound.
Plans propounded,
Though some are fouled,
Throughout the paths that were found...

However, most are lost and wounded,
Most tended to walk out,
Some minds and hearts full of doubts.
Hearing salvation shouts,
From all these new paths walked and found...


Details | Narrative |

Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch some pails of water
Jack climbed some trees while Jill was picking some pretty flowers

After some hours Jack realized that he was wasting time
So he called Jill to hurry up before ‘tis half past nine

So off they went to continue their very long journey
‘Till they passed by an old beggar and gave him some money

When they both reached the well Jack and Jill filled up their buckets
Near the well were some berries which they put in their pockets

When they reached home their momma and papa were so happy
For dinner they had meatballs and soup and chicken curry

 And five bags of bananas which a rich neighbor gave them
The good that you do to others will always be returned 


Details | Narrative |

New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behing,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...


Details | Narrative |

My Motivations in Poetry

My love of poetry started when I was still a five- year old child When my parents asked me to memorize verses and rhymes With all my feelings and actions, I recited my poems in front of a crowd Innocently receiving adulations but not a handful of dime The first piece I memorized was entitled, “Cradle Hymn” I was a small girl sent in a poem competition, so naïve When I’ve grown up , I realized it’s a song lyric with Christmas theme So, I sang it and started to develop my good voice quite a bit When I was a teenager, I memorized speech and declamation pieces My teacher sent me in a poem contest for a campaign against drug addiction I tried to deliver my piece like a candidate for a star award actress Acting like a drug addict teenage girl longing for parents’ love and attention As years went by, I turned out to be quite a flirty lady With puppy love and sweet crushes to some guys around me When one of them got me, so happy until I forgot all about reciting poetry Relationship went long but when we broke up, it created another life’s story All my heart brokenness has turned me out to be a poem writer I also wrote few poems for my family, dreams and for close friends’ requests My passion of poetry blazed and turned out to be greater When I found a writing spot, motivated and inspired by my friends-the great poets
Feb. 6, 2013 First Place Contest: Who What Where Judged: 4/23/2013 Sponsor: Poet Carol Sunshine Brown


Details | Narrative |

My Hidden Fear

People are my weakness and hidden fear
I just feel that some words they say set me in tear
For example I gave a person a smile one day and they gave me a glare
I did not know that smiling in the world today cause people to stare
These types of stare gave me chills down my spine a feeling that made me blind
Why? why is my weakness the people who are very unkind
Hiding is all I can do when people give me a unkind view
I get to a point that my fear seems to wonder and stew
People are who they are and what should I even do
I don't understand that they are evil and some times nice too
My hidden fear are people just because they are always around
That is no argument and my feeling are perfectly sound
The hate builds up in my mind, but does not bother, how my heart feel
I learned to undergo a change that my feelings become like steel
Hard as it should be in situations needed I forget how to use it
So it becomes my weapon and it is to some people heartless just a bit
My hidden fear is what I see in people today
They harm others and they think it is okay
That is why I fear my feelings for others at times because it is so confusing
My hidden fear is some what bad and some what a blessing


Details | Narrative |

My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess


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