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abortion absence
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Long Poems | Long Poetry

Long poems. Read long poems, search long poems, and filter long poetry by category. These are the all-time best and most popular long poems by poetic form, category, length, or keyword. See also long poem categories and Famous Long Poems

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Long Poems
Long poem by Tatyana Carney | Details |

Soul Stones

We swallow boulders:

(lead words, molasses covered prejudice, glass shards of promises long broken)

Mouths open wide and heads tipped back

like Hawaiian fire eaters.

Chipped teeth are bits of porcelain history,

sliding down our throats in rivers of neglect

and acid.

The stones settle,




Our stomachs are filled up, anvil weight

'till we can hardly sit, hardly stand, or walk.

We drag our feet in pain, as the quiet indicator that

we've had rocks for breakfast,

lunch, dinner,  for years,

in the hopes that someone will recognize

the broken concrete footprints behind us

and touch us gently on the forearm:

"Honey, are you alright?"

(and isn't it the first sweet trickle of kind words that crumble

the already cracking facade?)

There's no stopping the torrent then,

tsunami tears and a heaving, convulsing

to the point of cathartic vomit-

boulders of every shape and size

tumbling out of our mouths and filling the room;

broken teeth and granite eyes 

until we no longer see the floor, the walls...

And then serenity.

The hand has moved to the shoulder,

forming a universal hug.

"I'm here now... and you're ok."

We stand up, together, and leave that room,

a soundless void of yesterday,

to absorb the impermeability of stones,

carrying our gait buoyant, without gravity.

No weight at all now, and barely a second glance,

but to turn out the light - and lock the door behind us...

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006

Long poem by Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Details |

An Ode to Turkeys

An Ode to Turkeys

     By Dane Smith-Johnsen


There was a time, year one thousand A.D

U.S. turkeys faced a brand new plight.

Usefulness seen.

Native American's hunting delight. 

The white meat of a turkey is quite lean.

So much healthier than man knew before,

Nothing one ever could say,

In any way,

Would make Americans free turkeys anymore.


Thanksgiving comes and goes.

Wild turkey gobbling slows.

Ben Franklin watched their plight.

Nominated, though laughter did flare.

Turkeys beneath the moonlight

Were beautiful out there.

Ben suggested, turks as the nation's bird.

But eagles know, it was not so.

And turks in history endured this nations birth.


Although wild turkeys can run fast and fly,

Toms might in spring be found.

Fluffing, dancing around.

Caruncle and waddle shiny, bright red

Courting the hens, showing off, prancing, not dead.  

Although turkeys fly strong,

The hunters by day kept watch in the fields.

Until, Old Tom, no more sang passion's song

And hens under bushes sat on eggs long.

When chicks hatched out and played their mother shields.

But on Thanksgiving Day...

Run away!

Note: Carolyn, thanks for the video suggestion.  It is very funny.  I decided to post the link 

here.  The HISTORICAL one is found at  

(TIME HEALS ALL: We do LOVE you, MOTHER ENGLAND... from you we were BORN.)

The HYSTERICAL one is found at


Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2009

Long poem by Carolyn Devonshire | Details |

Fleeting Freedoms

Elderly mans fishing net hangs in his shed

The fish he caught in his backyard stream multiply

Net use was banned; he couldnt afford a pole

Joy and sustenance gone, a tear falls from his eye

House Bill 875 would ban backyard farms

Forcing vegetable growers to invest cash

In overpriced produce on supermarket shelves

Uncle Sam flexes his muscle, makes his whip lash

The right to freely worship is endangered

As prayer is prohibited in public schools

Government intrusion invades all our lives

Public pleas are not heard by those who make rules

Freedom to choose our doctors is now threatened

Socialized medicine diminishes choice

Speech censorship? Just ask the Smothers Brothers

Who canceled their own show with a stifled voice

As crime escalates, look to the constitution

The NRA spends billions to protect Americans' rights

To bear arms against oppressors while thieves laugh

And sue owners of homes invaded in the night

Can this be what our forefathers had in mind

When they sought to escape a kings tyranny?

Our rights are being limited more each day

In a nation spawned to promote liberty

Natural disasters prelude Judgment Day

Eerie escalation  tsunamis, earthquakes

But perhaps when the dust finally settles

Those who survive will learn from our past mistakes

Governments will form only to preserve peace

Not to strip away rights ancestors pursued

Dont blink!  Precious freedoms are now endangered

By those who feel theyre elected to intrude

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

Long poem by Sidney Beck | Details |



The smoke from the shashlik  fires  made us hungry
So that we could have eaten the falling golden manna from the trees
Offered to two wanderers in this sylvan wilderness.
Not forty years, but forty minutes in which life changed for us. 
It was only a field trip she said, to study the socio-environmental
Arrangement, the attitudes, of couples in the autumnal picnic grounds. 
She needed the truth for her dissertation, she needed my help.
Knight errant in the pursuit of knowledge, thats me.
In pursuit of her, if the simple truth be known.
She gave me the golden opportunity I had been seeking all summer:
Now the harvest was at hand, and the reaper all too ready.
She needed photos to show the attitudes of the couples
No photos were  needed to show our attitudes. 
We were clearly a couple with attitude, and my socio-environmental
Score matched hers exactly: thats scientific for we fell in love.
Look up! Such a glorious afternoon of yellows, and a blue sky.
Look down! The lake reflecting our faces filled with smiling delight,
Gold underfoot, and her lustrous flaxen hair draped over my shoulder.
The field trip showed the truth, she knew it and so did I.
It was forty years ago : we still remember it, tell our kids about it,
Especially on fall days like today.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .

Written by Sydney Peck  2 October 2011,   and    
Entered  in  Francine Robertss  Contest   A Nature Tale

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011

Long poem by Tammy Flanagan | Details |



The rythme progresses through me

Reaching to depths unknown

Leading me to another realm

Only I have ever gone

A place of solitude

Where I can be free

For my soul is the melody

To which I shall dance alone

And the beat is my life walk

Opening the walls that have never been shown

Oh how I love to sing

Especially when I hear that old familiar

That takes me back to the day

That I could just proceed along

No cares, no worries, just me and the world

Being free...... to my song

How many memories are wrapped up within tones

That have touched our lives 

How many people can we recall

With just one sharp# climb

Or with just one flat fall

The power of our melody is our own

No one can hum it 

No one can take it

Because our life walk is our song

We can take this empowerment as high as we want

Or we can take it to the lows

No matter how we play it 

It still grows

With each and every encounter

Down our blessed path

The music follows

With our every step

So embrace your sharps and flats

Knowing that it is helping you

Through this turbulent ride

Sing it loud and don't be ashamed

For your song knows you are doing your best

Don't let the bar line tell your ending 

Keep the melody flowing

Continue your lines without cares

And when your curtain rides low

And the rythmes come to a sway

Just look at the pages before

To where you started from

And to how you have become so much more today

Keep the music alive....even with a hummm

Copyright © Tammy Flanagan | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by Edward Orozco | Details |

A light forgotten

<center> I do remember you, your brown curly hair that stole scene entirely

The day my eyes met yours, and how I dreamed of having you in my arms

Then they moved; your lips and out came the most beautiful voice that to an angels

You stood no judge and took me in to a warm embrace

Your heart felt the sorrow, and scars that my soul carried, and yet you held me

Hours came to be days and days came to be months and our hearts grew

I awaited the sun to wake up and stand on top of the day, so that I could see you again

Your laugh, your scent, your smile that drove my heart to swell in affection

The butterflies that you made come to life within my stomach grew and I took flight

Then only the heavens were the limit

A glimpse of hidden light I called you, and a verse I wrote for you that stole your heart

I too recall the glow in your eyes as I held you and kissed you

You said it was too good to be true, and then the truth came to surface

Fear was rich in your heart, and slowly you drove me away

And I stood to do nothing but see and feel the fire draw to not exist

Seconds became weeks and all in that you became a memory

A beautiful memory that I will not forget, as I became stronger at your side

I wonder if you think of me, as I think of you

Our first kiss beneath the sun, our first hug our first laugh

I see your smile from a distance every now and then, beautiful still

I will always think of you and what we could of had

You are a star forgotten

To G.V.R

Copyright © Edward Orozco | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by Shaz Cheesman | Details |

Rude, Drunken Pen

Bloody rude drunken pen has enjoyed a nib of ink or two, reminiscing on a few 
Bad and ugly times, we both admit at times things were, a bit of a mess, 
All kinds of intertwined, confused but along the way making some progress
On the grand masterpiece of all masterpieces  writing bliss 
At first polite, we take in turns, to interject with collaborative words,
Until the air hits us hard, take a breath, wheres your etiquette, manners and respect, 
My turn pen, I command, continue on to write, scribbling like an erratic birds nest. 
Pen resists and spits its ink, a dirty blob from its nibhow rude 
All smudged and slurred is a dribbling rambling of everything crude
Across the page leaking its ink, clearly from excessive drink
Dancing on thin ice, my drunken pen decides to try and entice
Inviting me to envelope, his muscular body with smooth fingers 
Such fraternisation you drunken sleaze, how do you expect to please
The love of your life, giving you permission to write and express your ink with ease 
Drunken pen is at a loss as reflects on his drunken state, its very late
Blubbering relaxed words across the page, deep within and obscure
Then I realise that my drunken pen is sometimes a little insecure
He has a way of making me melt when I think of his 50 shades of blue
Each drink of ink that fills his nib, that prints our words, that stains my skin 
Is in every way the partnership of creative bliss and my perfect hue

2nd October 2012
Written for Drunken Pen - Part 2 Contest

Copyright © Shaz Cheesman | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by frank halliwell | Details |

Dorry's Ridge

                              Dorry's Ridge
                                                                     Frank Halliwell

In the fading days of summer; in the early afternoon,
We climbed the path that winds to Dorry's Ridge..
Where the crispness of the autumn air fortold a snowfall soon
On the rolling hills beyond the Springtown Bridge.

See the reds and golden yellows of the woods up on the hill
Where the maples stood all summer dressed in green.
Can you feel the breath of winter in the early evening chill
With the north wind stealing down the lake unseen?

Does a sense of wonder fill you, when the wild geese fill the sky
As they start their yearly journey to the south..
And the strung-out chains of emigrants call loudly as they fly
Past the rocky point down by the river's mouth..

And when once more it's silent, and our world is still again,
And our geese have disappeared beyond our view,
I'll lead you down the ridge, along the pathway from our glen,
And wander back along the lake with you.

On Dorry's Ridge the snow lies deep, and up along the hill..
The maples stand forlorn; their branches bare.
The lake lies deep beneath the ice; caught tight in winter's chill
The fox is sleeping soundly in her lair.

But one day soon the spring will come, the land will blossom then,
And life will wake again, as nature planned.
We'll climb the long path to the ridge, returning to our glen,
And watch the geese returning, hand in hand..

Copyright © frank halliwell | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Seren Roberts | Details |

Santas many helpers

Santas little helpers were busy having fun

Wrapping and labelling the presents ready for the Xmas run

The reindeer had their coats washed smelt of lavender and things

The sleigh had been revarnished was now bright and glowing.

The reigns were now polished as a surprise for Santa Claus

So he would look the kiddy not a drab old droopy drawers

The presents were in the sack, in house order for delivery

Santa admired his reigns not realising they were slippery.

He jerked the reigns  as a nod for the reindeers" 

To start their pulling then it happened, oh dear

The reigns slipped through Santa's fingers reindeer were off at speed

Luckily thomas was out with his tank engine knew he had to try and stop the steeds

He puffed along the track shouting  at Santa to hang on  tight

Then disappeared into a tunnel giving Santa such a fright

The minions were out in their millions pulling on the reigns to stop the race

While batman flew in voicing his opinion that a race at Xmas wasn't the place

Said to the minions you want to help, Santa is exhausted not in the mood to yo ho ho ho 

Deliver these presents off you go but be quiet those children mustn't know

But if you peeped and saw yellow Santas Instead of the usual red one

It's the minions helping out until the presents are all gone.

Santa is snoring now he has had a stressful day

Think before you do more than help it sometimes doesn't pay .

Penned 26 November 2014

Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by W.... Truth | Details |

Police State

                                                    Someone asked me once what exactly is it that separates us from the socially elite or the ruling class,

and the answer she said would require real thought and that until I answered I could not pass.

It also could not pertain to a wise saying people use in passing or a notion or a clever line to sum it all up or cynically encompass it all,

but that the answer had to be definitive, direct and pertain to the actual tool used for this segregation or mildly put separation and that seeing the answer and knowing where very different but finally with the answer I must still stand tall.

Would it be crazy that the answer or name could be considered a real State or more over applicably characterized as the the 51st State but the main one of the many exceptions that comprise this State and many more like exemptions in that State is that it has no boundaries and no border,

And in politics demands for a strict criminal justice system by this socially elite especially in relation to violent and property crime as they described and through stricter criminal penalties against the have not's and then the have not's treated as depraved is this real definition of law and order.

So after very deep unbiased and original thought and after seeing all that's going on from Dallas and even many other country's and even far away in Nice

I believed that now I know the answer and I said to her "Police".

She let me pass....


Copyright © W.... Truth | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Geraldine Douglas | Details |

Jewels of Africa

Jewels of Africa.

The saffron Queen spins the lilac sky,

her rays flick crimson cinders into Royal Blue Oceans.

Submerge, sizzle, frizzle...going, going, gone! ...But Not.

Cumulus clouds drizzle pepper fog over pink Flamingos, homeward bound.

Tea-green Botswana bush,

teeny, tiny Hummingbirds hover over brink-pink Balsams,

feast on elixir of nectar.

Royal Albatross rides the last whip of wind.

Sulking Stork swoops through veiled mists above marshy meadow ponds.

Sword sunbeams lash chrome, coppery twilight.

Mooned dusks, a violet cape cloaks bathing blooms.

Nightscape sky sparks, preparing mornings thin blue...aurora hue.

Camouflaged branches stretch, tickle studded clouds

as ribboned roots cling to crevice homes.

A spook- silver ring appears from nowhere, pearling ripples aluminium.

Beams spill across the sea like lines of glittering fire.

Ethiopian wolves howl composed solos, 

phantom echoes shudder Tarantulas lair 

as Flax Lily spurts scent...Frankincense and Lime.

Sultry Savannahs secrets passed on by rhythmic lip-smacking Baboons,

cracking jokes in the knitted canopy, 

teasing and tickling clowning Hyenas below as

a blinkered platoon of Jet Wood Ants march to their Majesty.

Dawn draws indigo voiles over Nephthys, Goddess of Night

slashes of Sunrise surge shadows as the Bush Lark spangles jewels in the air. 

The Alize wind dies in respect to heavenly panorama...

Mountains reflected, seen to be varnished into still, smalt-blue sea.

Copyright © Geraldine Douglas | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Spidey Williams | Details |

Nobody Told ME

Nobody told me that the road would be EASY,

Believe ME.

With every BREATH,

I begin to feel one with DEATH.

Wondering why its not me lifeless in the GRAVE.

Wondering why my life is being SAVED?

The more I breathe in this worlds AIR,.

The more I seem to CARE.

The more than I APPRECIATE,

Every time I AWAKE. 

Every time I CRY,

Every fear I FACE,

Im realizing Im living NOW,

 for a purpose, while preparing MYSELF, 

for a better PLACE.

I do not know what tomorrow BRINGS,

But I know what today IS.

My tomorrow results from what I make of TODAY!

Today determines what my tomorrow may BRING!

Yesterday helps factors a fraction of my TODAY!

But nobody told ME!

The weight of the world would be carried by ME.

I knew it would be HARD,

but never did I think it would be this DIFFICULT.

I never thought I would actually loose so MUCH,

before I gain so LITTLE.

I never thought the little gain, would mean so MUCH!

I never realized how little I CRIED,

Until when I TRIED,

 		no tears would FLOW.

And when they started they would never STOP!

And when they stopped, the feelings would still REMAIN!

Nobody told me I would loose so many KEN.

Nobody told me I would loose several of my close FRIENDS.

Nobody told me I would feel so low DOWN.

Nobody told me I would be hurt by words SPOKEN.

Nobody told me my heart would be constantly BROKEN.

But even if they had told ME, 

all of this and much MORE.

It would have never prepared me to be the CHOSEN!

Copyright © Spidey Williams | Year Posted 2006

Long poem by William Masonis | Details |

Get An Education

"The boy's got a broken brain!

- Fix him for me now,

I can't do a thing with him."

     - So I hear you say,

     Though he seems intelligent enough.

After all, he's smart enough 

To know the whys and wherefores

Of every deal that goes down on his street -

Every $ passing hands in the dark,

Summed and totalled in his head.

But Math - Forget it.

And you'll never see him crack a book for study's sake.

Perhap's that's because you broke his heart,

Long ago, though his face will never show it.

Because he bleeds inside,

Though to hear him talk you'd never know it.

You tore his shadoworld apart

Just by never being there -

You broke his proud red eggshell heart

Because he knows you never cared.

Perhaps this is why Rage is his religion,

And he only values Gain,

Why Payback is his Creed,

His only currency Pain.

This then is why he wears the shirt 

That reads, "Never Forget, Never Forgive";

This why he's unafraid to kill or die,

Yet terrified to live.

So go get an education -

 Start with a hard look at yourself -

You that schooled a nation

In the politics of Greed,

Builders of the conflagration

Of burning, unmet Need

Now threatening to consume us

As it climbs into the skies,

As it whispers warnings to us

From his vacant, coldstare eyes.

You broke his heart,

A wound more deep

Than I alone can mend,

I, just one beleaguered horseman.

Cannot set it right again.

You must help put things back together,

If you want our nightmares to end.

Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2008

Long poem by Helen J Radford | Details |

'and the walls came crashing down..........'

A knock at the door, who can it be? 

Probably Sarah coming for tea. 

She usually calls on her way 

back from work to share some time with me. 


A look in the mirror, 

I 'tut' at my face: 

Why do people always call 

when there's junk around the place? 

I open the door - a man is standing there. 

I wish I'd worn some make up 

I wish I'd done my hair. 

It's then I spot the uniform: 

the buttons made of brass; 

the stripes that grace the khaki sleeves; 

the boots that crunch amongst the leaves. 

I question with my eyes? 

It comes as no surprise to hear him ask 

can he come in, and would I like to sit?' 

He has some rather grievous news - 

- I dread to hear it. 

I know what he is going to say. 

It's all a dream. Please go away. 

I'm not in to truth today 

I scream inside my head...... 

I know what he just said to me, 

but I didn't hear a word. 

His lips spoke out in silence, and me, 

I never heard. 

He's 'so sorry'. He gets up to go 

and heads towards the door. 

I try to rise to follow him 

but my legs will move no more; 

for they have turned to jelly and 

my head is going to burst. 

It's funny, when you're a soldier's wife, 

you always fear the worst, 

But it's only when you hear the knock, 

the knock upon the door, 

and see the face you've never seen: 

the shining boots, the uniform; 

the mouth that speaks the silent words 

the apologies and platitudes; 

'killed in action in the war" 

The widow thoughts ring clear.

Copyright © Helen J Radford | Year Posted 2008

Long poem by Holly King | Details |

Kirsty (one)

Even now I sit, slump, shuddering,


Stale walls echoing lamenting calls,

their house...

A nightmare flickered in the red herring of betrayal.

Stumbling hormones, skinless evil.

it breathed...

Blood red lips snarling, capturing someone else essence, bone dry.

A nightmare...

Deliberately slithering up my calf, I grasped a cube of insanity as a last hope.

The shock...

Dead eyes feared a toy box, a fragmented sense

clung to my only protection, my untouched hell.

Blood soaked, dripping sweat, saturated fear I escaped...

I awoke...

Demons hell-bent on demise. Curiosity craved,

crushed my soul into submission,

But it's just a box...

Teeth exposed, chattered, blindly shoved fingers in to catch my tongue,

the taste of soured flesh.


A vibrating voice crackled static pain, shivered in pleasure.

He escaped...

Bargaining, a blissful retreat, whilst exposing incompetence, irrational?

Go to hell.


Pounded at death's door, let me in...


Warned the worm of the vulture, coming to devour its soul.

Something didn't fit, the sacrifice seeping into the floor smelt half human.

A twang...

Realisation, cold, the door creaked, locked,

grinning gruesomely, the veins pulsing along a sadistic mind,

Quaking, i flinched around to a lubricated nightmare,

clenching my muscles, the hiss of hell's rapture...

A prison shook, a prisoner shrieked,

Sanity split like perfect fission, slime coated his

perverted call...

Come, to daddy.

Copyright © Holly King | Year Posted 2010

Long poem by Rick Rucker | Details |

The One


The One

by Rick Rucker

When you have found The One,

That person that outshines the Sun,

Then you will understand  the fuss,

Your heart convinced with the first buss!

Your lack of  focus is normal, don't worry,

Love will guide your heart, don't hurry,

True Love is the force that cures,

Your heart of all the past sutures!

True Love has the power to change,

Your mind, to rearrange

Your whole life,

To take a husband, or a wife.

If all your life, you've lived alone,

Talking to suitors on the phone,

It's so nice to sit together,

Without the phone cord acting as a tether.

Something as simple as holding hands,

Takes on new meaning with wedding bands.

A wedding changes everything,

Makes you feel a Queen, or King!

That this person wants to spend

Their life with you, 'til the end.

What might have started out with lust,

Has ended with a promise: 'til dust!

Marriage won't be only Wedded Bliss,

But if each day  starts and ends with a kiss,

Doing this, and other things,

Will mean you don't have to pawn your rings!

If you don't marry, out of fear

Angel's bells you'll never hear.

That gentle tinkling far away,

The one that makes you want to stay.

Imagine your surprise,

When you look into your lover's eyes,

Your Love, your spouse,

The one that shares with you a house.

Being in Love, after decades still,

Each one  feeling marriage is a thrill

How long can True Love last?

I'll tell you when a century's passed!


Copyright © Rick Rucker | Year Posted 2010

Long poem by Dave Streett | Details |

Teaching you to love Loneliness

Youll wanna forget, but Ill sell your kisses for a bag and a rig.

My glory rides on a brick and a gram

Youll never get more then half my mind.

Ill eat ya to put you to sleep 

Cause my dick wont step up half the time.

Your eyes shut to tapping my vein

Dancing through shards of moonlight, emptying your purse.

I can score while your searching your plastic case for your pretty face.

Sweet poems and construction paper cards were pregame.  

Now I finger through  your parents drawers, quarter rolls are good enough.

Do you still crave me babe?

Hows third place, my two best buds a needle away?

Even when my eyes arent dotted up it isnt fair.

Just a routine, credit card debt and jail dont scare.  

With me were always in the midst of thunder

Recoveries pink clouds in front but out of grasp.  

Absence of luck permits you to hang on to my spirit embezzling tears.

Ill be smiling at the freedom, Ignoring your texted stabs.  

Long sleeves and 50 hour work weeks fooled your parents, but 

The mirrors sunken and pale my features lost to warmth artificial from my heart.

Everything is gonna be cool as long as no one sees my arms.   

Penniless,  Ill dissolve all my cravings under my tongue for a week.  

Steaks marinated in Pabst followed by talks of your creation.  

We can lay in bed alll day watching Hulu and melting time.  

For once Ill be all yours no more rocks disrupting my brain.

As soon as pay day hits Ill sprint out the front door.  

Copyright © Dave Streett | Year Posted 2011

Long poem by Robert Ball | Details |

Pets and Children

Many people in this world love their animals.

From cats, dogs, birds, all imprisoned in kennels.

To own one they pay for shots, and adopt.

The pay for licenses, fees, finally they are bought.

Now we as animal lovers care immensely for them.

Making them part of the family, like next of kin.

Sadly they care only for pets, not humans.

Plenty of children need adoption, left alone among men.

People all over the world are starving and dying.

Little children go hungry, many are weak and crying.

Did you ever have to go to bed sick or hungry?

Wondering where your next meal will be, its not funny.

In Africa, Libya, Sudan, Ethiopia, children are suffering.

Many nations try to help; many dont try, not caring.

The Lord says let the children come to me.

His children are important, he wants them spiritually.

Children go hungry, one in five in the USA.

Inner City, our Cities, feel the crunch everyday.

As parents, desperation and panic set in.

So crime rates soar, as they try to feed their children.

Something is sadly wrong when pets are fed and children suffer.

Caring for animals, while children go hungry, Sisters and Brothers.

Desperately they turn to crime, drugs, robbery, is an epidemic.

Animals over humans, something is definitely wrong;

While humans suffer pandemics.

A new world, with Jesus at the helm.

Will bring an end to suffering, we will overcome.

A new thought Love will appear on earth.

Its been promised by God what before our birth.

Copyright © Robert Ball | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by Sierra Cowan | Details |

As I Stand Here Waiting

The world keeps spinning on,
but I wish it could go backward instead.
Who have I become, where have I gone?
I don't even know what goes on inside my own head.
I am not this person I have become,
I never was and thought I never would be.
This is someone else,
This is not me.

My priorities have shifted,
I value things that once meant very little.
I search for things to fill the gap,
but only find things that are noncommittal.
Happiness in one night packages,
is what fills my life now.
I'm not sure why,
I'm not sure how.

I want more,
but do I deserve it?
This battle is repeated inside my head,
but I will never truly admit it.
I know I could do more
I know I could be greater.
But in my own head,
I am a master debater.

I'm so afraid of failing,
that while I hide that's exactly what I'm doing.
I have so many hopes and dreams,
but are any of them even worth pursuing?
What if I fall flat on my face?
In front of everyone I know and love?
But then again I could be better than I expect,
go beyond and above.

You never know what the future holds,
only what has happened in the past.
In order to make your future what you want,
you better live in the present while it lasts.
Seize each day,
and do what makes you happy.
For no one can see what lays ahead,
whether it be great or crappy.
I may not know who I have become,
but I do know who I want to be.
I want to be present in my life,
no more being an absentee.
The past is the past,
and the future lays before us.
The old me,
I will repossess.

Copyright © Sierra Cowan | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by JW Earnings | Details |

Don't Worry

Once upon a time,

The Orange & Pink Dragon

Popped out of nowhere, 

Blowing pink flames in all directions. 

The Shapeless Robot walked down the street 

With a blank expression on its robotic face.

He made a Snake Bird friend,

Since he didn't have a friend of his own;

Loneliness crept in on him & he wept despondently.

"I want a friend to sweep away these feelings of loneliness!" 

Cried the Shapeless Robot hopelessly.

The Snake Bird felt empathy towards him & wiped his tears away by his serpent tongue.

The Non-stop Growing Vines twirled around them in all directions suddenly...

Vibes of discomfort crawled up and down the robot's back,

Electricity, originated from energy, zipping through him constantly...

Lizorse and the gangster red-head girl ghost named Gingah were playing chest with each other,

Exchanging love expressions flirtaciously...

They blew kisses at each other time and time again.

Bubbleman got bubbled up with benevolence when he felt an Angel Hand touch his shoulder;

At last, he witnessed miracles in disguise.

All of the characters hung out and listened to old school rap,

Partying and dancing like crazy monkeys at the jungle-like zoo during their leisure time. 

The Incomplete Ship flew towards them, 

Silence slipping though the merry atmosphere...

The palm tree, excluded from the rowdy group,

Acknowledges the Stripeful Fish happily.

"Don't worry..." said the palm tree sheepishly with content, "You can be my friend always and forever"

The End

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by James Horn | Details |

Crabby Walking Through the Abbey

We are going on a trip to the British Isles

and Channel Island of Guernsey and Normandy.

This sure should be quite a cruise. Here is my

first poem I am writing about it even though I

have not been there yet. Here goes.

Crabby Walking Though the Abbey

by James Thomas Horn before we

go bye.

Can't leave London without having fish and chips

Which originated from slick, sailing ships;

Could ride by restaurant in horse drawn coach

See beautiful women while wearing a broach. 

Many smiling people everywhere we shall see;

Some may even be from upper high society

Who all have much money they can spare

Yet, still can seed noses held high in the air.

While we were looking did see a lovely doll,

And ended up having a big barroom brawl;

After we left and what soon was a little later

Americans were accused of being an instigator.

From it all we started having terrible cough

Maybe it was from riding get on and get off;

Over pages of those punished started to skim;

No wonder Tower of London looks so grim.

But, at last, lovely parade now had begun;

Women had fun wearing hair in a big bun;

After seeing hats and hearing all of the hype,

Wanted to