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Long Dance Poems

Long Dance Poems. Below are the most popular long Dance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dance poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Isaiah Zerbst | Details |

Celena, Brave Celena- Part 1

From Judges 11.
Pronunciation: Seh-LAY-nah

His brothers cast the young man out, the child of an harlot;
He fled away to distant Tob before they found an outlet
For anger, more than what they'd done, to fully disinherit
And drive him from his father's house, though not for foul demerit
Within himself, but all for greed- it made them hate their brother.
Now Jephthah lives his life alone, without a father, mother;
He goes about with newfound friends, considered rather shady:
At least he does not get too wild; he found himself a lady,
And has a one and only child, a daughter like her mother.
She's tall and slim, with long, black hair; as fair as any other,
And loves to dance and sing and play her timbrels with the daughters
Of the mighty men of Tob, who play their music by the waters
Of the brimming banks of Yarmuk; lovely music, song, and dancing,
In the evening, in the twilight, which is wordlessly enchanting;
So much so that all the stars come out before the sun has drifted
Below the burning desert sands, thus Nature's course has shifted
From what it was, what e'er has been his want, his call of duty,
And all to see some pretty maids who sing and dance with beauty.

The Ammonites come, bent on war, on taking land and cattle;
They'd kill the men of Gilead and claim the spoils of battle:
The land that once belonged to Sihon, which Israel gained possession,
Then Joshua allotted to the sons of Gad and Reuben.
Thus Ammon claimed what was not his, but what he thought he needed;
And Israel must be captained well, or else they'll be defeated.
The elders ride in haste to Tob, to Jephthah's lordly dwelling
To find the man who would be best and see if he is willing;
But Jephthah said, "Did you not hate me? Did you not expel me
Out of my father's house, and now you come to me and tell me
Of your need when in distress? If I by some rare providential
Act of mercy be successful, will you lay aside resentful
Ways and set me over you?" And this they would; they needed badly
A man who knew the art of war, who charged in battle madly;
So they agreed and made him captain over all the forces,
The leader of the fighting men, the officers, and horses.
Then Jephthah vowed a vow to God, he said, "If Thou wilt give me
A vict'ry over Ammon, then returning I will give Thee
Whatsoever first will greet me at the doorway of my dwelling
As an offering of fire for a savor sweet of smelling
Unto Thee." And having spoken he departed to the battle
With his whole command of soldiers, with a clash and tramp and rattle:
And they smote and killed the Ammonites until the Plain of Vineyards;
In twenty cities passing through as Jephthah drove them downwards.
The town of Mizpeh heard the news and every mouth was voicing
The praises of their leader and his soldiers with rejoicing;
Then, as they saw him from afar, the townsfolk all assembled
To cheer their hero, now their judge; but mighty Jephthah trembled,
For as he came unto his house his daughter came to meet him
With timbrels and with dances from his door she came to greet him;
Her raven tresses bouncing, and her flowing dresses swirling;
Her face alight with happiness, and glowing as she's twirling.
She smiles at her hero from the battlefront returning,
But he cannot return it for the raging storm that's churning
Inside himself, and making him so weak and sick and frightful
For his daughter, lovely daughter, blessed with grace and so delightful.
And he said, "O sweet Celena, you have cast my spirit downward,
For I've  vowed a vow that's binding, and I cannot take it backward;
I have sworn to make a sacrifice of fire of whatever
First would meet me at the doorway of my house; but I had never
Thought that it should be a person, but a heifer or a doeling,
Or perhaps a dove or pigeon." Here he stopped, for tears were rolling
Down his cheeks, and rent his clothing as he stood there, crushed and grieving;
Amazed at what he'd done, and even now not quite believing
His hand must wield the wicked knife; his hand must light the fire;
His hand must end his daughter's life; his hand must build the pyre.
He stared at his offending limbs, said, "Would to God I'd lost them;"
For now he had to tell his wife how much his oath had cost them.
Then Celena, brave Celena said, "Perform what you have spoken;
For the Lord has taken vengeance and the Ammonites are broken:
Only grant me two months longer so that I and my companions
May bewail my virgin state among the mountains and the canyons."
One word was all that he could say, the one word, "Go," and held her
A moment to his bosom as his teary eyes beheld her;
A chain of gold about her neck, dress gay with colored sashes;
A tremble in her ruby lips, a teardrop in her lashes.
Then turning from her father, to the wilderness she stumbled;
Her eyes so filled with tears that down the road she tripped and tumbled,
And lay a while in the deep, deep dust that rose above her;
Then stripped her golden necklace, one gold ring and then the other
And threw them from her to be swallowed by the dusty powder:
"What good is gold?" she softly mumbled, crying ever louder.
Retreating to the lonely cliffs, the desert's jagged mountains,
Where desolation reigns enthroned, except for by the fountains
And streams that bring a thread of life, that ever downward trailing
Flows by the place where seven maidens gather as they're wailing
The loss of faithful friend, the favored, beautiful Celena,
Who would not flee, but e'er would be the dutiful Celena,
Submitting to her father's vow, though leading to her dying.
The place that used to ring with song and laughter fills with crying;
And music now is sighing of the maids and lonesome whispers
Of the wind. And those who danced are aimless wanderers and drifters,
Seldom speaking: consolation is but vain when 'tis imparted
To a soul whose days are numbered when its life has barely started. 

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by William Masonis | Details |

The Ghost Dance Part IV

                                             The Holiest Dance

Come out and dance, children of the New World.
Come out brothers, sisters, old and young.
Come dance and call back your dead.
Wheel and turn in long slow movements,
Passing through one another like eagles in flight,
Sailing over the endless plain.
Dance in rhythm, dawn to sunset
Wearing the sacred Ghost Dance shirts
Flapping in the grey cold mist lifting
As the sun climbs into the bluing skies.
Dance in the magic shirts their bullets won't penetrate,
Your protection from the great New God,
Who has forsaken His White Ones, adopting you as His own.
He has given them over to his enemies
For they have betrayed HIm,
Given His son over to His enemies and turned from His words.
Now He walks with us to make us strong again,
We His children now.

     Dance, Dance, Beloved Ones,
     All the day and into the night
     Calling to the Dead, the Gone-Before.
     They stand close to us now, - can't you see them?
     The shadows of yesterday drawn close by your hope?
     Can't you feel them gathering close by the fires
     As the days out in wild, smoking skies
     As you dance together, calling their names, 
     Calling them back to the light,
     To the dreams and fears and loves of life
     While the stars come out to keep their watch
     Bejeweling the night with their cold sweet shine
     As you dance and dance and dance
     Until exhaustion claims your bodies with a faint.
     No matter: the good times come and with that knowledge
     The sweet dreams go one, even in collapse.

Dance, children, dance all together, safe in the magic shirts
Adorned with strange magic symbols
Our Fathers' Fathers knew so well.
Their power returns with your belief
And the Whites are afraid, for once.
They don't understand this, they feel something is wrong,
But they cannot grasp what is happening.
That must be our secret - they'll find out soon enough.
When their well-deserved ruin overtakes them.
Enough for now to be patient and tread lightly near them,
For they are easily moved to destroy anything that puzzles them too much.
     Dance and Dream.     
     Sing and grow stronger.

Sing sweet, wheeling under the stars:

                                                        Father, have pity on me,
                                                        I am crying for thirst,
                                                        All is gone; I have nothing to eat.

Wovoka's spirit will hear and smile. Sing on:

                                                        The Father will descend,
                                                        The Earth will tremble,
                                                        Everybody will arise,
                                                        Stretch out your hands.

The Spirits hear. Can you feel them gathering?

                                                         The crow! Ehe'eye!
                                                         I saw him when he flew down,
                                                         To the Earth, to the Earth.
                                                         He has taken pity on us.
Throw back your hands and laugh. Soar with joyous thoughts. 

                                                         I circle around
                                                         The boundaries of the Earth,
                                                         Wearing the long wing feathers as I fly,.

The Whites are afraid. Their time is passing.See their faces, and pity them.

                                                          Iyehe'! My children -
                                                          My children,
                                                          We have rendered them desolate.
                                                          The Whites are crazy - Aheyuheyu!

Yes, children, the time is come at last.
Dance and rejoice; dance them into Oblivion.
The Game, our Dog Soldiers, all the true men
Are returning to us.
The old ways shall be ours again.
Dance and rejoice! This Earth, our Love,
Will be ours again.
Ours forevermore.





Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Robert Ronnow | Details |

Material Life

Absolute science and art of being whole
           at one and under no delusion that
                      mankind (or nature) give a ****
                                 whether you amount
                                             to something or not.
                                                         Narrowed down

nothing but matter matters, matter, content
           of life (serious, love it) hate
                      death, for the hell of it, to
                                 see what it's like in
                                              the heart of

Deeper and deeper I go
           but who would bother to kill me
                      or love me? Belonging to the drums
                                 of wooful war I
                                             woof and bay like
                                                         every other

Down I go to the depths of material life
           the material is spirit wrought
                      by the material world. The
                                 drum and jet plane
                                             the bird and sumac
                                                         the pollen

No answer is forthcoming for the young fool
           importunes to ask too frequently
                      the fool's question. What
                                 is my next move. He
                                             steps lightly and does
                                                         not seem to care
                                                                   quite where.

material world is reality, my friend
           and sadness is the spiritual root
                      without which the love-nut
                                 may be reached only
                                             by stretching
                                                         the emotions

raw, where desert delights exhibit
           movement in the sunlit light. Where
                      none find their way
                                 without following leaders
                                             sometimes the wrong way.
                                                         The path

apart from the dance or the dancer who
           cutting cross country laughs
                      at his perennial fright of being
                                 caught outdoors, out of sight
                                             alone with the wind and rain
                                                          for days on end
                                                                    in hiding.

on the roof, the telephone ringing,
           books getting delivered to the library free,
                      gratis, no fight, no love
                                 a meager understanding
                                             of what rolls
                                                         the earth.

rolls the earth (and may sometimes rock it)
           each of us achieving the gravity of a planet
                      and pulling the world apart with our loves.
                                 Taking existence beyond the limits
                                             set for it, into
                                                         the universe

We went out beyond the surf
           into the adirondack of trees waiting,
                      wanting nothing, mountains
                                 wanting to grow slowly.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Gina Young | Details |

Mating of the Rich and Famous

I once walked into my backyard
and found two slugs mating in a bucket
I had just learned how slugs go about mating, 
or trust-I would have been rightly confused

Here hangs a long line of slime, almost a foot long
and then halfway down the thread of slime, it begins to twist, to look like a strand of DNA
I am fascinated beyond comprehension
What am I seeing, I mean I KNOW what Im seeing- But WHAT am I seeing??

These two gelatinous creatures, that I admit Ive never given much thought to before
are forming the most intricate, delicate dance of fornication
This is too much for my mind,
and so I just sat and looked on in awe...this lasted for awhile so I unfortunately wasnt there for the seperation.

Now, Im lost in the realm of procreation, its consumed in my head every time I go back and imagine those delicate slugs.

Cats. Big, small, lions, cheetahs, tigers..I believe they all mate the same way. 
A female goes into estrus, and males come rolling in from far and wide. Marking every guidepost along the way, announcing his arrival.
The Lioness lays comfortably in the shade, waiting to be presented her King.
And the brawl ensues. Maybe hours or days. Screaming and slashing, boasting and threatening.
And finally when the lesser males are too worn out, too ashamed, given up, deflated...
The big man with all the prowess grabs his woman with his teeth, mounting her, her resisting..testing if she approves.
They are loud and vicious when they finally get down to it. And persistent.
Days go by, they barely eat, they are barely concious of their surroundings, hormones driving them.
They mate, they rest, they fight, they mate, they rest.
And then its over just like nothing ever happened. And shes left alone to gestate the next generation.

Birds. Birds vary...dogs and cats can be predictable when it comes to making babies.
But birds have different rules. Alot of birds mate for life and are monogomous...better than humans at it too.
Swans are particularly faithful, and heartbroken when their mates die.
There is a type of male bird that will spend hours upon hours building elaborate, beautiful nests,
collecting pretty, colorful things...making a comfortable space to get it on with his lady.
And then the females browse the different nests looking for the perfect living space for a very important event.
Some birds dance, they show off every beautiful move they have to earn the heart and eggs of a woman.
And we all know peacocks. The males are burdened with being beautiful, trying to catch a pretty birds eye. Quite opposite of us peoples, huh?

I could go on...but just a few more points on procreation.
Penguins, males keeping the eggs, almost starving to death to make sure they hatch.
Crocodiles burying their eggs just offshore, and just waiting to take out predators looking for yummy croc eggs.
Octopi will do some craziness where the female starves herself to death to make sure her young hatch alive.
Male seahorses defying everything we know about life, carry the babies....if they can, why...??
Orcas will nurse for up to 5 years, even after another calf has been born. The females never leave the family.
Female hyenas have a 7 inch clitoris which they give birth out of, Im grateful to not be a hyena.
The strongest, largest shark in the womb will cannibalize its siblings. Survival of the fittest.

So now Humans.
We have hormones like all the other animals, we act on them, we procreate.
But its almost as if we do this slyly. Not everyone obviously-not aimed at people fighting to have a child.
We say were making love, connecting, feeling. But how much is truly lust, hormones and instinct?
We have similarities of all animals in our mating rituals, whether babies are in mind or not.
Men act tough, or try to look so slick. Women flirt and dance and wear bright shiny objects, like shes trying to lure a magpie not a partner.
And we have our fights, we get vicious and physical, we fight and we penetrate, fight and penetrate. 
And then almost always someone walks away.

I always come back to the slugs.
Where there seems to be no pretension, no need for competition.
I could be so completly wrong about so many things.
But those slugs just seem to be doing something right.

Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by south aqua | Details |

Unexpected events

My watch is broken, I can not wait for you to get here
The sun is heating,(I cannot believe) today, we're finally meeting.
I'm not quite sure how I'm gonna act or what I'm gonna say
But of one thing I'm sure, when you'll be in front of me, you'll take my breath away.

While I'm waiting, my mind is flying away
From the moment you'll get here, to the first move you'll make.
I just wish, this day to be perfect
I hope I'm ready for any unexpected events.

It's getting late and you're nowhere to be found
I'm getting all kinds of emotions, but is nothing I can do about..
The park is empty, looks like the rain is gonna arrive
I guess I should be going too, nothing makes me stay around.

Maybe you got stuck in traffic or you've just changed your mind,
Either way, I better go now, maybe we'll get to meet some other time..
And now my battery is dying, I have such a lucky day,
I don't think this day could get any better,
           >>no 'eff!n' way!!<<

Where should I go now? to the hotel or to a pub?
I'll get me something to drink before Imma call it a nite.
I don't find my card key, guess I'm losing my mind..
 Who the 'eff' are you 'my friend'?
 Why do you have to honk so loud?

    you: Hey!!!
    me: Gosh, you scared me!
    you: Where are you going? don't we have a date?
    me: Hey, you're the one that got here late.
    you: Yeah, I'm sorry. look, I've been running all the way...
    me: Cool. I'm glad you came.
           I'm starving. where you gonna take me?
    you: well, since our picnic is ruined, thanks to the coming rain.. 
           lemme take you to my favorite restaurant..
    me: sounds great. OK.

While in the car, you've turned on the radio
And the silliest song was playing in the air
Smiling, you looked at me and started dancing
Gosh, you're amazing. (that's what I said)

We've got to the restaurant
It's getting pretty hot
No sign of the rain now
Guess she just changed her mind.

When I stepped inside
My favorite song was playing .. so loud
And once you've heard it, you took my hand in yours and smiled
you: Hey, this is our song since now!!

Since then I got this feeling, this awesome feeling inside
I'm with the right person and the nite has just begun
You're full of surprises, beautiful and kind
For me you are so special, I'll roll my dice tonight.

Next thing I know, we were back in the car
The music was playing loud, you were driving too far
The last stop we've made, was at the hotel I'm staying
You grabbed me in your arms and .. and then's when it started ... raining.

The weather gets colder, your hand is on my shoulder,
I ask you if you want to come and wait inside.
The fireplace is on, your clothes are on the stove
I bring you comfy clothes, while you're in the shower.

The rain is falling from the sky, the night is deep, looks black and white
I pour you a glass of wine while getting closer.
The electricity goes off, all of a sudden
We're in the dark, the music stops - I lit (up) a candle.

Looks like the rain has stopped now (or for the moment)
I pour you another glass of wine..
I touch your hand, you're grabbing mine
And pull me closer.

The last thing I remember, you were playing through my hair
I felt your (warm) breath down on my neck and I've kissed your shoulder
Slowly, you laid me down, on the floor, whispering something in my ear
Your fingers were walking down my spine, I've closed my eyes.. that's when we've kissed.

We've spent the night together, sleeping in each other arms
I was your blanket, you were my pillow - the dawn was coming fast.
I woke up and.. watching you sleeping
You found me smiling when you've opened your eyes.

Things went so fast - time was flying by
Only four days, until we say goodbye.
All the sand from the beach, the pictures framed in our minds
The scrambled eggs in the mornings, (all those) kisses (stolen) through the night.

While I'm counting the seconds, my mind is flying away
From the moment we've met, to the last thing you'll say.
I just wish, this day to last forever
I hope our story will never have an end.

In the airport, while waiting for our planes to come
Our silly love song was playing one more time
And once again, you took my hand in yours and smiled
That's when you've asked me, if I want to be ... your wife.

Copyright © south aqua | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Stanley Carter | Details |


Pasha Acremodios grew greedy,
discontented with the domain he dominated,
so he turned covetous eyes toward Farabia,
sending his soldiers to seize this ripened plum

Spoiling for a fight and fighting for spoils,
his army swept across Farabia
like a bloody broom,
brushing it clean of plunder,
bringing back abundant booty–
orichalcum and gnometal,
moonweed and nightpetal,
elf dust and faerie dew,
witchwood and devils yew,
dragonelles and goblinettes,
clever brass gadgets and striking statuettes...

And slaves, a multitude of slaves.
Acremodios paraded them through the streets of Posbala–
cooks and cleaners, miners and gleaners,
gladiators and prestidigitators and...
Liatra Fey-Nachni!
A terpsichorean treasure
who delighted beyond measure

Yet one dance she never did,
except in solitude,
for it was too fine for mortal eyes,
reserved for the gods alone,
and in fruitless frustration
men desperately demanded
the Dance of the Lavender Veils,
to no avail

But Acremodios commanded her
with a clear and veiled threat:
“You shall dance at the end of a rope,
a twitching jig of death,
or else show me your lavender veils
and continue to draw breath.”

And Liatra bowed her head
and began her finest dance,
and the pasha sat upon his dais,
clad in his grand attire,
lustrous brocaded robes bristling
with diamonds, sapphires, gnome stones,
his fingers encircled by rings
sporting gems of unmatched clarity and cut,
yet this gleaming, glittering, glimmering array,
which always bedazzled his gaze,
now seemed dim as a new moon
bescudded by clouds,
compared to the eyes of She

He regarded a nearby bowl
filled with peaches, plums and pears,
a mouth-watering repast–
palpably unpalatable
compared to Her succulent lips

His thoughts strayed to the market square in Posbala,
where serpents rose from their baskets
to sway so sinuously, 
coaxed by the charmer’s pungi,
and he thought of the hawks and falcons
which wheeled betwixt the clouds
in the skies over lofty Talcyata,
yet the graceful, supple movements of these beasts
were like the clumsy jitterings of hobbled beggars,
compared to the undulations of Her body

Acremodios glanced at his guards,
six strapping men in
scarlet pantaloons and crimson vests,
with ruby-handled scimitars
ensheathed upon their waists.
But those curvy, flashing blades
were no match for Liatra’s legs,
which pierced pasha’s heart with longing
far fiercer and too deep

She wore a pink choli
embroidered with golden needlework,
and a sky-blue skirt,
slit daringly down the sides,
in the Farabian manner,
and her nimble fingers held two veils,
which she flicked with a conjurer’s skill,
gauzy lavender wraiths doing
their own frenetic dance

And the bells on her wrists and waist,
her ankles and earlobes,
tinkled together like giggling fairies.
And the tinkling turned louder,
growing to a gonging,
pounding within the pasha’s head, 
as the stiffness in his loins spread
down to his legs,
up to his stomach,
out to his arms,
into his heart

The music ended with a frenzied flourish
and Liatra Fey-Nachni lay splayed upon the floor,
head bowed, bosom heaving,
sweat beading her flesh
as her rouged eyelids closed,
concealing the triumphant gleam
in those violet orbs

And the pasha did not clap his hands
nor voice his admiration,
but stared at her ceaselessly,
his eyes fixed upon the spot where she lay,
long after she’d scurried away

They took Acremodios to his bed,
laying him on a mattress stuffed
with the hair of beheaded monks,
and covered him with a quilt
patched together from sundered vestments,
and there he lingered,
wasting away for weeks,
as ghostly gnostics urged his spirit
to trod the blazened path

And Acremodios’ soul journeyed to
the caverns of inflamed fates
where sulfurous clouds scud across black orbs
and the shades of the damned promenade
in tunnels of molten memory.
But the impish barbs and demonic lashings
troubled him not,
and the scalding pathways
merely trifled with his toes,
for such torments paled compared
to one terrible Truth:
He would see Her no more,
and when next She danced,
other eyes than his
would behold a hint of heaven

Copyright © Stanley Carter | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Poet M.e. | Details |

Kind Of Blue For Miles Davis

Kind Of Blue (For Miles Davis)
Woodlawn Cemetery, Bronx Ny 1991

Before they could lower Miles 
into the damp dark ground
Thought they heard musical sounds

Before the Preacher could say
Turn your Bibles
To Acts, The preacher paused
After he read Deuteronomy
He looked back

But there was nothing there

But deep under the sepulchers
Six feet below the sand
The Spirits realized it was jus’ 
ColTrane and Gillespie
Warmin’ up the band

And a hundred corpses started
Creeping' out those coffins
Sayin', We don’t get parties round here often

And those Trom Bones started rattling
Those Trom Bones rattled
Like they were audition for Ezekial
Like they were auditioning for Ezekiel
And MILES was ready for his musical sequel

And MILES said
Is everyone here dead??
And they said, Do we look Dead?
And started snapping their fingers
And bobbling their heads

And they started to sing 
and shimmy and sway 
In A Silent Way

And Miles asked the dancing Dead Man
Where am I?
How long do we get to play?
He said, We ain't got long, Son
The Shovels are on the way
The shovels are always on the way

And Miles crawled  out of that casket
To a vertical stand
And Tommy put a horn in his hand

Miles stood on the tallest tombstome
And he played like a Boogey Man
He played like a Boogey Man
And then Mingus appeared, saying
 Is there any more room in the band?

And Miles put his wrinkled Black lips on that horn
And embraced it like it like it was a breast
And he felt like  he was a Newborn
And he felt music deep in his chest

And he played like there was no tomorrow
Because there wasn’t one
He hesitated
And they said, It’s alright Son

And he played Vibrato 
And he played E Flat 
And he played C Sharp
And it sounded sweeter
Then Caesars harp

Then Miles looked sad eyed
And thought back to 1945
Shooting heroin with Bird
recalling those sad words:
“Hey Miles”
“Yeah Bird”
This is the only shit kind enough to kill you
And show up at your funeral too.”
And Miles said, 
Yeah it’s Bitches Brew
It’s a Bitches Brew

He laughed, Crazy of  Ol’ Coleman
To tell me to stay away from you

And that heroin went down
Their veins
Like a Macy’s  escalator
Then they went back up to their brains
like an elevator
And Bird was dead ten years later

And Miles went back even further in his mind
1944 East Saint Louis when he met Billy Eckstine
He pressed Play, fast forward and rewind
Then he thought about Webster and Navarro
And he was filled with sorrow

Miles cried as he cleared his throat
But He saved
The Sweetest note
for Alton, Illinois
Where he played as a boy
And was his mother’s joy

“I think God himself made the piano, Son
Now the Devil made the trumpet
A day later tryna show God off…
She faded with words real soft

That thought was interrupted.
Miles, We gotta hurry
They comin’ with the shovels
They told Miles not to worry

And those Spirits knew the party
Was coming to an end
And Miles played one last note
To the sun to the moon and to the wind



Those What  If-heaven-

And then he brought  to an end
 That syncopated tune

Someone whispered, We know

It always ends too soon.
It always ends too soon

And the music stopped playin'
And they confiscated those horns
Like a New York pawn shop
And that party came to a stop

And every ghost went back to his tomb

And Mingus said, Hey Miles
Remember how we used to think those
White Juilliard kids 
Would never know our names

And Miles cried with refrain

Goodbye Miles
I have to get back to Bangladesh.
You try to stay out of trouble  
And then they saw  the shovels

The very next morning
The Undertaker
saw a Brass pipe on the ground
Where it came from he didn’t have a clue
Only the Corpses  knew

But if he had looked up, 
Miles and MILES up into the sky
He would have noticed
The more Ominous clue
The Sky wasn’t white
Or Opaque or even Grey

It was was Kind of  Blue

Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Elena Frank | Details |

The voice of addiction

''Welcome to Hell," the sign should've read,
Reaching your destination-its all in your head!
Thank you, for your invention.
I'l. Never  leave your side.
We'll become very acquainted.
My child, there's no where to hide
"Last call for the train heading to Nowhere Fast,"
The memories you create will forever last.
I bet you feel silly
Falling right into my lap.
I'm a master at temptation
You'll cant escape my trap.
Don't pray to god he left your side
Just take my hand and let us collide.
I will teach you how to play the game.
How does it feel to dance with the Devil?
Did you realize yet that we are the same?
Are you honestly going to try and beat me?
A useless battle if you want to know.
Go ahead and give it a shot
 I'm in the mood for a good show.
I'll always be your dirty little secret.
I won't disappear over time.
I guess, you think your special.
But I won't leave without a fight 
Ill do my best to bring you back,
I'll keep you up at night.
When ever you will want me 
You know I'm always near
I will remain your nightmare,
I'm still your biggest fear.
A vicious cycle, that’s what I am
I tend to only speak the truth
I'm Satin's weapon of destruction.
The silent killer of your youth.

"the voice of victory"
One year sober, the world seemed dim and black. 
But I made a promise and I'm not going back.
I whipped my eyes, there is no reason to cry.
The time has come to say goodbye.
You brought me joy, but mostly strife.
Then you started to take over my life.
It felt so natural I didn't think twice.
But your a king at manipulation and you played it nice.
It's been 2 years I guess that you lied.
You said there is no way out, but I called your bluff.
I reslize now that enough was enough.
The path I have chosen led me the wrong way. 
No one thought I will service, but here I stand today.
The memories of your sweet rush are no longer a threat.
I have done many things in life but you were the biggest regret.
I know temptation oh so well.
I know your everywhere, waiting to lead me to hell.
Save your self the trouble and don't even Try.
I locked the gates to hell when I said goodbye.
But I hear this voice inside my head.
I know I burried you yet you are not dead.
The fantasy world you provided was nothing but a lie.
Your a constant reminder that life can change in a blink of an eye.
I have been clean for too long to go back to my old ways.
I like the new me and this is how it must stay.
Life may get hard and I might get off track. 
But don't count on me, I am not coming back.
I am happy with my life,been though its not the same.
Drugs took so much from me but I beat the devil at his game.
This is a voices that reside in my head.
So I desided to share them with the world instead.
Life may get hard and things will fall apart.
But remember tomorrow is always a new start.
There is many ways to deal and cope.
And believe me neither one of them is connected to dope.
Don't take the easy way out, it will will destroy who you are.
Don't chose drugs as your escape, they won't get you to far.
I share because I know 
that once your in, you can't let go.
They are every where and the each have a name.
I was lucky enough to defeat this game.
But not all off us are strong enough. 
Not all of us can call the bluff.
Never dance with the devil, is the advice I will give.
Because god has a plan for everyone, so you must always believe.
When things hit rock bottom and life fills with fear.
Remember that god didn't bring you this far to just leave u here.

By: Elena Frank 

Copyright © Elena Frank | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Bernard Colasurdo | Details |

The Lovers Dance

It was their night they shone bright as they danced their sweet dance
Two lovers embraced in their world of romance.

They laughed and they cried as their eyes locked in stare
It was their world for this moment as if no one was there.

And their steps they so flawlessly glided in tune,
To a melody that touched everyone in that room.

Their passion brought envy to onlookers there,
Who secretly questioned their own love affair.

But as the night closed and came to an end
The lovers were blind to what lie round the bend.

The house and the cars and the jobs that went bad
The kids drove them crazy and their savings were drab.

So they fought to hold on to the things in their life,
That caused them so much of their pain and their strife.

They fought with each other like enemies do,
And dismissed in their life everything that was true.

So when sickness and hardships and troubles occurred,
Their vows to commit seemed truly absurd.

Their home and their kids would now take a backseat,
For their moral obligation they chose not to meet.

So I Ask …
What happened to that dance they danced so well?
With passion and truth everyone could tell.

What happened to their dance where they held so tight?
What happened to the wonder of their glorious night?

What happened to the words that charmed their ears?
With a passionate rhythm that brought them to tears.

What happened to those vows that poured from their heart?
The “I love you forever and till death do us part”.

For these aren’t just words we borrow for the day,
From another who tells us this is what we must say.

We say them cause it’s what we feel true in our heart,
It’s a God given blessing we commit from the start.

But these words are now lost as they fall on deaf ears,
Since the pain and the struggles they’ve created these years.

So the lesson here learned dear people of odd,
Is that love is so fragile but made strong with our God.

So stop fighting for power and money or need,
For all of this nonsense is only our greed.

Keep God in your life and he’ll walk you through,
When heartache and pain and losses ensue.

For why commit vows in the eyes of our God,
And not call on him when life gets too hard?

For the truth of our vows we are all meant to see,
is that marriage is not, made of two, but of three

If reading these words ring some truth in your heart,
Decide that today you will make a new start.

Go hug your spouse and say something kind
Don’t let the small stuff cloud up your mind.

We’re all just lost souls who are trying to cope
If  not there for each other then where is the hope?

You see, the anger, the fight
that in us abide, Is only the insecure child inside.

So rise up above all this fear and this pain,
And see all the beauty that there is to gain.

By trusting in God and his will for you
Together forever he’ll see you both through.

For life is too short for our miserly ways
cheap on our love hence dreading our days.

He made us to love in all that we do
To wake up each morning and start us a new.

So pray for your spouse, ask God to be kind
To the person you prayed in the beginning to find.

They’re still the same person you loved from the start
But life and it’s troubles have hardened their heart.

You vowed that you’d love them in sickness and health
Now is your chance to show God what you felt.

So rise up my friend, don’t say that you’re through
For what if your loving God gave up on you?

Copyright © Bernard Colasurdo | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by Olive Eloisa Fraser | Details |



                        the blue
               cotton - candy clouds 
         in  my pretty rainbow dress, I 
       softly sing along with the anthem 
 of Western Winds.  Airy and light, I'm lured-
      being  invited  to  sway  so  slow,
       swirling in intimate tango with 
            the cool - sweet breeze. 
                 Breathing anew, I
                  clamor for more, 
                   I dip and dive.
 With snaps in my tail, I soar high! High
    like a ship sailing the playful tides 
      of the blowing winds, mounting
           from   lows ~ to ~ peaks
              but as the wind rest
                     to relax
                        I fell
                                  I dare 
                                I will  be

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O.E. Guillermo
6:08 pm, October 20, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2015

Long Poems