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abortion absence
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age allah
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grave green
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growth guitar
hair halloween
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heaven hello
hero high school
hilarious hindi
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me meaningful
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men mental illness
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miss you missing
missing you mom
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Long Inspiration Poems

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

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Vic Pister | Details |

When I Die

When my life has finally left me and my last breath has been shed
And the silver cord is broken and my bodies firmly dead
I shall hover near the body, download the scenes of this past life 
Noting all minutest details rolling backwards past my eyes

I’ll store these scenes ‘til later when I can take the time to learn 
What the lessons have to teach me and help me to discern
How I treated other people, made them happy, made them sad
Examine all my actions, both the good and the bad

Three days later I’ll lose interest as my focus moves away
From the world that I just left behind, there is no need to stay
For a lifetime in the life of man to God is just a day
And my soul as God on the wheel of life must move along its way

I’ll take the download with me as I move into first heaven
It’s the first stage in the afterlife, in number there are seven
Here I’ll see and feel the good things that to others I have brought
And revel in the feelings of the kindness that I wrought

I will store these in my seed atom so in future lives I’ll know
They’re the things that I must multiply for my souls’ conscience to grow
For the conscience is the souls’ voice that guides you day by day
That still small voice that warns you in what you do and say

When that’s done my view will shift then to the things that I did bad
To the hurt I did to people that left them feeling sad
I will feel their pain intensely, ten times worse when in this field
For I’ll be purely spirit now with no flesh for a shield

These painful lessons will imprint upon my seed atom as well
In some religions we are told our soul’s in everlasting hell
In the stages of the afterlife, this is your punishment in heaven
This is the third and the most painful of the total seven

The Grim Reaper now has visited with his scythe so I will know
Through natures Law of Consequence I will reap what I did sow
He has shown me all my misdeeds and caused me many tears
And this purgatorial experience may last for twenty years

When my suffering soul recovers and the pain has died away
And I’ve incorporated the lessons to never act this way
In future lives I’ll be a better man from these lessons I have learned
One step closer to perfection that my growing soul has earned

Now I can sleep, Oh peaceful sleep, a state of heavenly rest
I’ll dream the dreams I love in life, of things I love the best
All desires that my soul has yearned, not a thing I can’t create
In the Great Silence of the spirit world to help me concentrate

The colors are much brighter, the scent of flowers more sublime
The senses are much sharper, there is no sense of time
I will see all other people as pure souls just like me
And I’ll know we’re all evolving to the bliss of eternity

I will hear the mystic music of the planets as they pass
Like a thousand singing angels, heavenly peace has come at last
Every planet sings its own song, we’ve grown deaf to this below
But in this super consciousness we’re in the eternal flow

I’ll be with my friends and family and others whom I love
The ones who left before me and currently live above
There they wait with arms wide open and rejoice when I arrive
In the fourth stage where I now live, it’s utter joy to be alive

I’ve incorporated my lessons, I now recall my goal
And my mind begins to focus on further growth of my soul
I must make further preparations and my vision starts to clear
I feel I must keep moving forward for all my works done here

I now have gone through five and six, there is just one more 
In years it’s been from birth to birth one hundred forty four
The time has come to move along and leave this place called heaven
Prepare for life in the physical world, I move to number seven

My soul has gathered the material, I now know what I must do
To make some more improvements in the places I need to
I must take another body, I must live another life
To grow and liquidate more karma though it means more pain and strife

I build an archetype of the body that in future I will form
When embodiment is offered, and I can be reborn
I will see the opportunities and be able to discern
The ideal embodiment for me when the right egg meets the sperm

I will hover near the fetus, influencing where I can
And I’ll have the power to make it be a woman or a man
I will help to build the body to suit the lessons I must learn
To overcome more issues so more advancement I can earn

When baby takes its first breath and my soul is taken in
With the imprint of my seed atoms that it has brought within
Now the babys’ atoms resonate to my seeds vibration rate
Making it the perfect body for my soul to habituate

The new body will be my new home, I will live a life anew
Gain experience, learn more lessons, through the things that I will do
I’ll apply the added knowledge that I learned in this past life
More evolved than in the last one, and cause me less pain and strife

This will happen just as often as required by the soul
As it pushes ever onward, pushing ever t’ward its goal
Of complete re-integration back from whence it came
To the universal soul of life no matter what its name

Nature is not personal, it does not seek revenge
If we mess it up we have the chance to do it all again
We arrived here by this process, nothing’s changed it’s still the same
But our souls have evolved immensely since we stepped into the game

We started out as fallen angels with no experience on this plane
We’ve grown to this by coming back again and again
Though we cannot remember for each conscious mind has died
The feelings in the soul remained in our subconscious mind

And so this is the story of the cycle of the soul
As it struggles through evolution on its way toward the goal
It’s this way for all unfailing, from natures law there’s no relief
All living things go through it, no matter their belief

Copyright © Vic Pister | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Tina Medina | Details |

Please Remember You Had Nothing to Say

   Please Remember You Had Nothing To Say
                                                                    By Dr. Tina Medina
I have loved and loved 
I have given and given
I have honored and honored
I have felt something deep in my heart
Yet you ignored me
Woman, wake up! You had nothing to say!

I have poured out my heart and you did not respond to me
What a pity 
You did not see the integrity of the love that was within me
I never hurt you
I never degraded you
I never disrespected you  
I never pushed you away
YET, YOU gave ME no say!
Woman, wake up!  You had nothing to say!

I have loved and loved
I have given and given
I have prayed and prayed

Woman, wake up!  You had nothing to say!
You never listened to me
You never even asked my opinion
on such a serious decision 
Dear woman, wake up!  You had nothing to say!
I once asked you for a lifetime to take a journey with me
I asked you to trust me because I was sincere
Yet I pulled back my offer quickly and decided to switch gear
I made this decision with all my precision
I did not care if it caused your heart a collision

I asked you several times…. are you for real
My love is not a game and it cannot be dismissed at will
Your answer was yes
Yet you walked away and left my heart a confused mess

My heart yearned for justice in the courts of fair play
Why did you do this and decided I had nothing to say
My love does not understand the mistiming and delay 
How could you do this to me without any say

You see, I am the judge and jury
I make the game plans
I state my demands  
I state what is right and what is wrong
I make the decision with all my precision
my logistics, my thoughts
it’s all for me to relay……
Please remember dear…. you had nothing to say
Sorry! The decision has been made, you had nothing to say
If you cry and are sad by the decision I made
Please remember you had nothing to say
You had nothing to say
Your opinion did not count
Even though you have a Ph.D.
I counted you out

Oh, for some reason
Maybe it was not the season

If you were sad
one day you will be glad
You see, the blatant disregard should have made you mad
then I realized your love  for me was not a fad
Yet… you still dearly loved me
and nominated me so my home town could know and see  the successful side  of me
You walked past your pain and decided to still honor me
Even though I caused you a heartache and travesty
God saw your good intention
He knew your motives were true
He granted you desire and everyone knew

One day you may have something to say
One day I may wake up and see differently…it will be okay
I will actually let you…. have something to say

Now the question is, will you be around when my truth is really found
When I know who I truly am and I know who you truly are
Will you be afar

Will you truly  forgive me for my harsh action and neglect
Will you look past the words of gross error and reject
Will you still love me deep down inside
even though I hurt you deeply and your response was totally  denied

For many months, you were so devoted to me
was I so blind I could not spiritually see 
I held your heart in my hand
In your eyes, I was the only beautiful mahogany man



Yes
It’s true
I loved only you

I am so sorry… I gave you nothing to say 
Be it may
It caused a delay
It caused a decay
A decay of something special and good
A decay of something solid made out of rock and not cheap plywood
A decay of a great love
You loved me for what I was really made of
You loved me for me and all  my complexity
and sometimes that it is not easy
I do give orders
I state my demands
I treated you like a soldier because I am in command

Thank God, I have woken up and I have something to say
Baby, you took something dear away
Now,  be it may
I simply have to say
I am so sorry, you took something special and real away

You took away my ability to decide
where I wanted to abide
You never listened to me
You never heard my plea
You never heard me talk
You decided it was time to end what you started and began to walk

How fair was your decision with all your precision
You see I am a Libra and I strive for what is balanced and fair
especially when I loved you so much and truly  cared
I did not understand because you never shared your decision and game plan
I never knew the true reason until this recent season
You disregarded me and left me out completely
on such an  important issue that involved you and me
you made it carefree 
by not talking to me

I am not mad
I am not glad
I just think it is somewhat a loss and truly sad
My heart held onto something that was gone a long, long time ago
Perhaps it could not accept the truth it was really time to let go

Oh, for a reason
There is always a season
A time to let go
A time to truly know
A wise woman could never be in a place where she had nothing to say
A Godly woman’s love could never be taken for granted and thrown away
A beautiful woman’s support can’t be replaced and put on delay
A strong woman could never be silenced and told go away
A mature woman would say this is not the time to play
A smart woman would read the Word and obey
A faithful woman would never stray
A good woman would build a man up and always seek God to pray
A confident woman will move forward and not concentrate on yesterday
A prudent woman would thank God for the lesson learned and walk away 
I just remembered it is time for me to relay goodbye for now because I have nothing to say

Copyright © Tina Medina | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by James Hackett Jr | Details |

A Glimpse In A Life

A Glimpse In A Life
By James Hackett Jr


Grasping Sand
The harder i try to reach you, the gap seems to expand.
Its like grasping at sand the harder I squeeze the more slips through.
I do not know if its the difference in times journey that made me a different man.
Or the course of your life that wants to push me to another plan.
I know loves there but it feels like there has never been a visible stance.
I wish I could know what you know just a quick glance.
A memory of us that makes you smile but thats for you.
Just know I have plenty and its the reason I can still stand.
That is why I will never ask to you change because I know I am just grasping at sand.

The Demons I Hide
We all have demons, 
We all have lied,
Its those of us that hide for pride or shame,
That push on others when we are to blame.
I am that man it be wrong to say,
to cast a stone any other way.
Still the question remains,
with out these demons called pain,
Could you appreciate the cool breeze before a midnight rain?
Would love feel so sweet if never burned by its flame?
Don't hide from your demons embrace them.
Walk through the dark and do not faulter.
Pray if you need but know the light of forgiveness is your alter.

Your Eyes
The first time we met we were kids faulty and arragant.
Maybe me more than you cause I never knew love.
That kind of love that hits deep and fast like meteor when something crosses its path.
It wasn't your beauty 
It wasnt your smile
I got lost in your eyes
Like an emerald maze of denile
I knew then what I wanted but felt in my heart I was not your aisle.
So we grew up and grew apart but never forgot my desire 
to look into to those green eyes of fire
and tell you I love you and it will never extinguish or expire.

A Walk With Death
I never thought so early so young.
I would sit across from you and talk about the things I had done.
I didnt fear you but felt your icey embrace as you took color from my face.
I figured we would just leave and that would be the end of my race.
My dreams my amitions gone without a trace.
Instead you warned me of those who had arranged are date.
Then took me on a stroll through time and through space.
I saw those I left behind and the things they would never hear me say.
Abruptly you asked me is this really how you want to leave in place.
Then I shook my head no embarressed and ashamed you smiled and laughed.
Then you understand, know this was never your path.
We all fall and lose are way, some hit harder than others                                                                     
you took it to the lowest summit on the lowest plain
As I wondered if this was the true Death's face.
He said remember this moment and learn to walk away.
A moment of warmth and light in my eyes to look up and see my mother.
I finally Understand why.

Music Is Life
To me music is life.
It binds and shares it connects in ways not seen by any eyes
Its an expression of the soul 
Or an escape to a world where you find peace and control
It heals wounds and grants courage
motivates in face of determint
Music is the wind that calms the body
The pill that relaxes the mind 
It needs no words nor reason to bind
masses of people who would never lend a hand or a dime
come together to celebrate our greatest acheivement
the ability for all creeds to stand together fell it and believe it.

Family
Family isnt bound by blood 
Family is bound by love
Its not shared through drugs
created through kisses and hugs
Family is the ability to love
To stand by a brother
when the things get rough
or lend a shoulder 
when the world is to tough
Family never asks
Because Family already knows
Family will always be there 
when those who claim to to stand toe
leave at the first moment the they think they know
a better oppertunity to find a better tree for their ivy to grow

The Mirror
Looking in the mirror I see the story of my life
The times when I was young fighting for my bike
My first kiss 
My first miss
The first time I thought I was going some where great
And the first time I fought to pick myself up after i failed
Times when I couldnt bear it and wanted it to break
Then found the strength to put it back together                                                                                       
After forgiving the shatered pieces of my long going mistakes
Now the mirror is a reminder of of where Ive been but also where im going
once it was a boy looking back laughing and gloating
now its a man who has traveled along road back to it to see where he is going.

Worst Enemie
I am my worst enemie like most im not special.
The struggle is a daily battle between me and him.
But where some look at it as a burden I look to it as a strength.
He is my rival he helps me grow.
Not all battles are one but prgress still shows.
It took time I wasnt always in control.
I have the scars to prove as a reminder to never forget what I know.
Im caring
He is selfesh
Im sharing
He is relentless
He has strengths that I dont have but he doesnt have restraint.
I have strengths he doesnt have but lack the curage to mantain.
We are one and through time are battles have taught us to trust in in each other.
There has always been struggle in out hearts but that is because in my opinion we fight who we are to be who we want people to see and this is what causes us interturmoil.
Dont lose yourself to the world but lose the battle inside.
We only lose when we stop fighting and I will never stop.

Copyright © James Hackett Jr | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Yolanda Wessels | Details |

Awakening

For the past thirty seven years, living for me was knowing that I do not know
I have been yearning for what I do not have a name for
The knowledge of the presence of this nameless, voiceless feeling, prompted me to the tenth month of 2015 AD
This feeling without a footprint or face haunted me
Unknowingly, it remained hidden for much too long
Life became the embracement of the nameless things I yearn for and was sure to never find
Hiding behind a mask, an unwilling traveler to more despair
Smothering my humanness, unable to acknowledge or recognize the smoldering spark deep inside
I was living life; neither dead, nor alive

Born without a name, my christening name inspired by the apartment I was conceived in
Something I was called upon when my mother was cross
Being nameless, I felt I didn’t belong in this world, had no right or purpose to be here
Mostly I hated myself, but wanted other people to love me
But somehow through all this turmoil, I found my voice
A voice separating me from a life I once thought was mine without questioning it
Inside, my heart was beating, inhaling and exhaling, but that was merely being alive, nothing more, nothing less
I was struggling to breathe, daily life slowly draining all inspiration from my being
My eyes became dull, my senses oblivious to the scents and smells of life around me

Then fate intervened and my life changed course
My fingers clawed at my mask, tugging in anticipation and excitement to remove it from my face
My soul shouting to escape, urging me on to find freedom
Unsure I took my first cautious steps towards an unclear perception of future
Driven by instinct, want, need and desire for the unknown, but hoping to recognize this faceless urge in the safety of a harbor
I treaded with more certainty, passion and need to find myself, to be freed from this chains that has kept me bound to heartache, hurt and sadness
An unquenchable feeling that I finally had enough strength and courage to remove this mask I have hidden behind my whole life
I was ready to explore who I was to be, to evolve into what the universe had lain on my newly found path
This adventure on my doorstep, ready to experience the wonderful lightness of being

Suddenly a new world dawned on me when my hand was enveloped by yours 
You allowed me to see sights seen by your eyes, heard sounds through your ears
My senses tantalized by invigorating smells, awakened through the coming together of our senses
You reached out to me with caring words, kindness I’ve been hungry to hear
An embrace to break down the walls of isolation, I created as protection
My loneliness caressed away by a soft touch 
A sincerity that raised me up from the shadows beneath 
Sensual lips smiling and lively blue eyes that brightened every dark and moldy corner of my mind
A kiss that could reach and elevate all nerve endings I buried 

All senses reawakened with enthusiasm and curiosity
Light entered my irises, sounds reached my ears, smells crinkled my nose, and flavors tantalized my taste buds
My feet treaded lightly as if soaring on clouds, unaware of the sea sand so soft between my toes
My skin glowed, oblivious to the cold refreshment of the sea causing goosebumps
Sea spray on my skin; the taste of salt on my lips; a fresh sea breeze in my hair
My eyes could only see you, only wanted you
Hearts beating fast, racing breaths, bodies aroused and wanting
I wanted to be had by you, and I wanted to have you
Nothing else mattered, but to be together for a while

A weekend once wanted merely for carnal desires, became the weekend to break and dissolve my chains
This maiden voyage, now the debut of my newly found freedom
A French kiss to eclipse all others
Moments of tenderness unfolding as I became weak to your touch
Fingers and lips exploring our bodies, the sweet taste of sea salt, champagne and passion
Your guidance gave me courage to explore 
Intimacy unparalleled to previous experiences
Naked bodies bearing all, our bodies entwined as you pushed into me
A discovery of ecstatic feelings of awakening sexuality

You opened a new world for me through your vision
You fulfilled my longing, brought my desires and dreams to life
Your experience, knowledge, expertize stimulated my mind
A willingness to share mind and body with me
Your being awakening and stirring my zest for life
Tickling my creativity, inspiring to explore beyond borders
Someone as extraordinary, made me feel deserving of love again
You brought hope, fulfillment and clarity
How can I ever repay, you came and gave me so much

Energy filled my body, creativity my mind
You believe in me, that who I was, really matters
A belief that we could indeed all be what we allow ourselves to possibly be 
Our moment in time together was but a fraction of a second in the completion of our life’s journey
Only a thought in the greater scheme, like a shooting star
You came, you fulfilled our desires and you went, as if all was but a wonderful dream
No judgement for my awakening feelings
It’s beyond my control, how could I possibly experience none
Allow me to wonder through the journey of my awakening senses

Copyright © Yolanda Wessels | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details |

Justice in the Quest For Love

I saw how martyrs longed for love, and so began the play of my flitting heart
A strange girl had I become, with airs of fickle dream,
My heart an embodiment of wonder to all that dared to behold it
Closing my eyes, I would find myself knowing something new would shine my way
Had I known what was coming, the dawn would seem far less appealing...

As all journeys begin, a darkness began to veer its head
The plot of reality melted in dissonant chords... 
Dark blue fogs of doubt caked my mind and heart 
Though the longing for love never left... 
And had it left, no dawn would await me 

I saw there were rules setting a foundation for my intensely embarked mark 
I knew if I were to feel any twinge of fire, 
I must first be rid of the fog...or at the very least find my way through it 
How it stung as it hit my virgin skin, not like gentle clouds talking me through it, 
Caressing, surrounding and seducing. . . 
No, like a poison, the bleak thickness of the doubt choking me 
Reducing me to child's tears...I toiled through its torments, 
I rested upon rough rocks of rhetorics 
Admiring their vitality and honesty... 
At one point in time I had convinced myself that I was one of them 
A rock- cold, rough... hardened and overlooked...destined to crumble 
Though more demands surfaced on this quest for love's Justice 

Weakened by the blue fogs blackening,
 I cried out in the pit of my heart, surrendering before me 
Words...kept so long inside... 
I freed them from the strongholds of my darkest nights 
And soon there was a deep, hypnotizing reply... 

Justice, tall and proud, said from above the sinking pit, 
"True, I have seen you before, 
A token of adoration you have become, 
Crying night after night in melodious black, 
With little to take, and everything to give... 
My demands are simple, as your longing is profound, 
You, yes, you! Take my hand so I may hold you tightly..." 

My mouth agape, I stretched out my hand to meet the vines of his fingers 
Clutching in sparks, he breathed into me life... and promise of love 

"Surrender your heart to the hope of love 
When you find you are not alone, as none of you are, 
When you praise with your singsong words that passion has altered, 
Giving all to a soul you have yet to see, 
You shall feel my hand lift you as I do now... 
Soon once more, you shall learn- the dawn will always be dawn 
And the night will always be your velvet pathway to Beyond." 

This, Justice proclaimed in the voice of a thousand cries of birth 
The overtones spilling out in rainbows of rapture 

It was soon after his visit, I knew I must perform... 
Surrender, faith, and action Three keys to the same door... 
And they, golden and alight, were in my hands to use 

The time came when my heart grew roses, thorns and all 
And hearts smashed their way through, though I cherished the burn... 
Fogs still lingered in the alleyway of fear 
And now I knew not to inch my way near 

For the punishment he had whispered like darts in my ear, 
"If you, now seeing the truth, dismember your heart, 
I will crush your petals into black abyss, 
I will reduce you to dust, leaving the thorns, 
I am animal in the face of failure, 
My tolerance for hate is shorter than an ant beholding a mountain 
And if you so much as reject my call, 
Hate is exactly what I will allow, 
And it will destroy you, oh singing heart..." 

This I ask of Justice, on the day of my calling, and yet still today... - 
"Tell me, oh spirit, 
Phantom of Epiphany, 
When the love I so long for locks tightly upon me, 
Becoming me, 
Shall it be as I dreamed, 
Or shall I be wholly disappointed, 
Left in the agony of reality, 
Where roses grow, thorns and all... 
Only to wither...and die... 
?" 

He was so gentle...that he merely smiled and left me... 

It was right away, soon after his departure, 
That I felt he never would fully leave... 
He allowed me to weave my own dreams, 
Finding out for myself if reality was truly as magical as they write 
And as for an answer, as dull as this may sound... it is... 

I, like many tearful martyrs before me, 
Continue to long for a love that will fulfill me 
Often reality teases me, and I know not if she is demon or angel 
Though one day, I will see reality is on my side, ugly or not 
The play of my flitting heart still beating its rhythmic drums 
The rainbows of overtones lulling me into ecstasy, 
As I see words of wisdom thriving in the hands that save 

This, though little, I know- 
Love is justice of reward beyond our wildest dreams 
He sings to us every night, never making promises... 
He just smiles and allows us to live it 
He allows us to discover, and in turn give... 
To enlighten others still trapped in the ruts of fog 
Once we feel it, there is no turning back 
Please do not let him crush those roses you have made... 
Even their foundations were meant to reach the skies 
Touching the brightest dawn...and Beyond..

 -For Justin Bordner's "Love Justice" Contest 
Love you loads, and thank you immensely for inspiring me! 

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Sarah Herring | Details |

Tell Them

Tell Them

To all who have never known, it's time that you've been told. 


Tell the population to change its ways before these lost lives and souls are all in vain. 

Tell the girls to think long and hard before they let a man twice their age break their heart. Tell 

them to think about who they are and what they want to be before they choose to conceive. 

Tell the boys who think they're men to think and think again when fatherhood is calling their name and 

they're hanging their heads in debt and shame. 
 
Tell them what it's really like to go to school, then work three jobs or more to pay child support, then 

beg a stranger for a ten dollar gas tip to fill up their tank just get home at night and make the trip. 

Tell them that their parents were right when they go to sleep, crying themselves to sleep at night. 

Tell them their friends are traitors in disguise, watching and waiting for opportunities to tell them lies 

and sabotage their lives.  

Tell the preteen girls in every walk of education and life to take control of their lives and souls. Tell 

them it's okay to tell the teenage boys that no means no. 

Tell them that being different is something to be proud of. Tell them that being different will save them 

for their true love. Becoming a Mother at thirty is a whole world better than being one at sixteen. 

Remind them of the wishes they made when they were little girls when they still dwelt in their hopes 

and dreams.  

Tell them to value who they are and listen to their hearts. Their unspoken, sweetest dreams are what

and who they're meant to be. 


Tell the young men and women who don't know what to do that with their lives not to rush into being 

husbands and wives. Tell them to become who they were born to be. Tell them not to lose their passion 

five or six days a week because they were given innate goals, hopes and dreams to fulfill their 

destinies.


Tell the girls who just discovered they're going to be a mother that they will make it one way or 

another. 

Tell them that when the guy they thought loved them was only telling them a lie, that he's not what's 

important anymore. Their little girl or their little boy is going to be their pride and joy. 

One day, they'll have a reason to forget the hopelessness and sorrow they once met. 

Tell the men who came home from war to find an empty house and home that there is so much more. 

Tell them they are our honored heroes. That is something that goes far deeper than anyone truly knows.

Tell the children who were moved from countless foster homes that they are not alone. Tell them there 

is someone who cares. Tell them that there is an end to their nightmares.

Tell the parents who lived their lives through their children that they can no longer run and hide. 

They have seen, heard and ignored when their children have begged and cried. Tell them it is their loss 

for living with their regrets and the lost expectations they never met.

Tell the criminals that live inside a demented state of mind that hell is reserved for the lessons they re-

fused to learn. Tell them insanity is never an excuse for abuse. 

Tell every man who ever hurt a woman and forced her child to watch has their time ticking away on the 

clock. Tell them they can't use violence to get what they want anymore. Karma is kicking down every 

window and every door. 

Tell the women who chose their boyfriends and their drugs over their babies that an apology will never 

be enough. Tell them that nothing is ever worth the price they'll have to pay for who they hurt. 

Tell the orphans that Heaven remembers them and hears their prayers. Tell them that Someone 

truly cares. Tell them that there will be someone to tuck them in at night and greet them each

morning when they wake up to the sunlight. 

Tell the women in abusive relationships that it won't get better. It will only get worse. Tell them to get 

out

now before they're not the only one who gets hurt. Tell them to get out before he steals more than their 

keys and their purse. 

Tell the countless girls who struggle with their weight to go beyond the hate. Tell them they are 

beautiful and perfect in every way and it doesn't matter what anyone else has to say. 

Tell the widows who feel the most alone that the Universe empathizes and it knows. Tell them they are

loved and they are on their way Home. 

Tell those who have lost it all, but still stand for what they believe in, that they are the reason we still 

have a chance to win. Tell them their bravery is what we stand for. Their courage is our open door.


Tell them. Tell them all we are here with open arms and loving hearts. Tell them this is the perfect place 

 to start. Tell them they can be all they are. Tell them that. Tell them then. Tell them now. Tell 

them time and time again. Tell them loud and clear. Tell them right here. Tell them. Oh yes, please tell 

them.

Copyright © Sarah Herring | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details |

Light On the Devil's Chord - Day 21

The waters of the Holy Spirit stirred with strength
And commenced to churn itself alive inside the well,
Forming a new maelstrom so radiant it seemed to rise in special presentation,
Roaring its heartfelt existence known
Our prince roared to drown its verities out, 
As my eyes heavily poured forth its growing form 

"Cease your sobs of truth!
Why in this well do you need your Father's light!
When what I have shown you could palpitate the bloods of your capricious soul? 
Battle me you must... 
I know you must for He has confidence in you
Where He has conviction in my destruction
The undercurrents of my heart shan’t assuage you
But the streams of you and your Lord’s duets estrange and enrage me
I am jealous, oh salient woman,
Jealous of how it stirs in you hope,
I want to clasp its throat and murder it endlessly!!!
I am your instrument, practice me...
I am your tool, use me…
Do not quench yourself just yet
Be thirsty for me...
Do not drink, 
Comprehend me
Adore me just a little longer..." 

The waters swirled around me, seeping slowly
The darkness in the well matured
And his eyes glowed menacingly, 
Burning on me with fires rising
He was thinking of what more he could say,
Sifting through the urging thoughts,
Desperate for a truth that would dominate the Holy Spirit’s sway

I sang,
"Those eyes once rested with me,
The same eyes that envision evil ends,
And transgressional beginnings,
Those burning eyes full of fire and desire,
Full of hate, envy and ire,
What do they truly see,
What do they reveal of me? 
Your eyes, they see an altered ultimatum, 
They are blind to our Father’s prophesies, 
And open to your own fantasies
Unrealities and fictions made physical
I will not practiceyou, I will experience you
I will not use you, for I love you
So Fictional Future, get past me
And behind me! 
You have feasible eyes, so let them see, 
I am no queen, 
I serve the King!
And these eyes you see here
Look at me!
These eyes you see here,
The same eyes that have seen your hurt afresh, 
Pour forth warmest tears, 
They open widely
To see exactly what they need to see
They shall love and create freely
Bearing each tempt and derision with a behemoth’s vision!"

He stared into my fierce eyes, 
Jaws clenched, 
They watered, never blinking
His vile thoughts meant to be verbalized,
Yet well he knew to reach my ears he had to speak his heart
Stemming from truth and virility 

"Those round beauties you possess, strong Majesty,
Reveal potentials dragons only dream
We are as equals, mine and your eye, 
Never simple, intensifying, powerful pupils, 
Expanding beauty with truth and lies...
Your eyes, do you not see?
I fathom what you knowingly perceive"

He shuttered, staring
"Focus on me,
Your eyes penetrate the night, 
They challenge my own, 
With a love lost in my catastrophic tone....
Your eyes....
Over and over they cry....
Bring us peace,
In different colors, changing in milliseconds they plead
Like in the ground where your grandfather lies, 
Among veterans long dead, 
Fighting, losing and rotted
Infinitely brave bones....
With soul blood pumping remembrance
Your eyes, 
Your eyes are burying the dream with the death of denial
I will see through them, 
And through mine you will see what you can be....
You can forever...forever, understand me..."

Long are these songs in this wretched pit...
Do not give in to it
The dark is temporary
The light is everlasting

"I have faced you over and over, 
We all have
And we all have eyes
Past twenty, beyond forty days
I have seen your cruel guise
Do not tremble, oh dragon, 
Your jealous impatience
Roars through those glowing eyes
Your desires uncircumcised
Look beyond us, you and I
See my world of grace
You have seen the bravery of my grandfather
So possess my womanly frame
Look beyond, 
Look above
Look around, 
Realize through mine, 
And visualize a stream of love you constantly fight
Today is a special day,
So see it right..."

I approached him slowly and touched him, 
Softly, his hands enclosed over mine

His voice was hushed like the secret between him and I,
Brushing in the brinks of thrill and suspense
He wet his lips, readying them for emphasis
"Now in this life, at this very moment in time,
Beholding the wonders of many worlds in your eyes,
I confess: 
I see him alive there,
And I envy him, 
For he was eternally kind to you
A part of you evermore
A trinket you hold to your heart dearly
As I lose you vastly
And as for your God,
I have known Him fully and turned from Him
And I envy Him too, 
Just remember me, as you remembered me every night in prayer—
He wants you,
Though I need you."

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Poet Destroyer A | Details |

Poet Convention 2014

Poet Convention

Lost in a poets convention, 
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'--- 
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears 
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line, 
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years 

Today's Convention, 
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned

I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.  

I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,  
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us, 
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind 
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance

This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style

Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again 
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen 
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects 
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside

I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side 
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement

Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie, 
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly. 
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--  
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."

Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show 
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words

Scribe ML., where are you my friend? 
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!

Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan, 
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words

Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,  
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.

Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M., 
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY 

Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry, 
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community

Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix

Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M. 
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.

Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget

Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.

Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you, 
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.

Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't.... 
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong

Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best 
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships

Before I forget, 
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:) 
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"

As you know my kindness is my weakness 
Now it's time to be strong and move on 
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup
AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNN!

Love 
The Poet Destroyer

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Michael Hawk Moore | Details |

A letter from ME

ME dear FATHER you already know,
But you need to be briefed,
On a tragedy I believe you must not know.
There’s a deadly dance with violence killing teens in America’s Black Communities.
Use to be, 
Good Christian mothers, fathers and youngsters had close neighbors who knew each other,
Youngsters playing in the streets from dust to dawn were safe from strangers,
Now kids stress walking through an apartment complex with minds set on being murdered.
City streets echo mother’s screams as her baby boy dies with her unfulfilling dreams,
She never believed prom night would be the last night her teen would last breathe.
Persistent teen mothers pay bus fare to pick peaches to pay high day care fees, 
While pre- teens skip ABC’s to sell crack on his street trying to out think the police. 
Fathers become felons trying to feed families but falters and get sentenced to fifty until forever,
While kids emulate videogame killers that teach people CAN’T really die permanently.
Battlefield schools try and try to have students excel with tools to live by, 
While school teachers try to survive,
Shooters doing drive-byes, kids swinging knives, and living an unappreciated life.
Black communities need to be bless again with your very best,
Like an Angela Davis, MLK, Eldridge Clever or a Malcom x.
No such luck, 
Peace treaties between Black Communities and the police are breaking up.
Neither side tries to understand the other side, 
So on busy city streets a teen or police officer dies, 
And somewhere families cry.
Some get so upset about corrupt police they literally throw-up,
Hearing police kill people like Victor White while the detainee was handcuffed.
Use to be,
Proven down through history the race that occupies and wears the crown of the presidency,
Surges pass suspicions and police brutality merging into America’s color blind main stream.
But with recent diversity in the presidency black people are still treated as if in the 50’s,
When police denied human rights to nearly everybody born with natural sunscreen.
So what starts isn’t so bizarre, 
Safety for Police and Black Communities members departs,
And deadly “WAR” starts. 
“Street” side will be classified as a justifiable homicide no longer,
“Civil Service” side leaves sons and daughters with no fathers,
While safety on city streets grows farther away leaving danger.
Black people try to impart to their teens so they have good hearts,
Respect other’s rights, love family, avoid prison bars.
But the reality of the city streets they see,
Police killing Philando Catile in his passenger’s seat,
Rips their sense of freedom self and safety apart.
Black post-teens scream, “BLACK LIVES MATTER” though it seems, NO LIFE MATTERS much, 
Collectively black people are just holding “it” together because it’s much harder, 
With four out of ten black men their “family’s strength” siting locked up,
And another generation from black and brown nations grows up in ghettos and goes no farther.
You haven’t been around much,
So this sin-filled faithful follower sits and ponders this stuff,
Waiting for one side to stand up swallow pride and say, “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!”.
I’m waiting to see if in this century black on black insanity, killing blacks to meet gang needs, will cease,
And parents in these communities will truly teach teens nothing good comes from being in the streets.
We need to start a Million Person Protest March gather people together,
Like pictures of the sixties with passionate preachers pleading,
“There be NO reason for the EXECUTIONS of our black teens,
Just because hip-hoppers were stopped by a prejudice Praetorian.
Peace officers have Tasers, beans bag guns, dogs they can order.
Thus when the son of someone runs or has no gun in hand, 
There are other options better than murder”.

FATHER, all recognize the self-sacrifices our military goes through.
Our military teaches police to use guns, attack, stay compose during combat,
Thus, the institution has no justification to begin instructions on when not to shoot.
But when military service is through,
And a new police badge rest on a chest in clear view,
The human being must come back,
And he or she must protect and serve the whole community white or black.
So I’m asking you,
And hope you can now understand what your Children-of-The-Sun clan are going through,
And feel their “need”, then intervene in this misery with a miracle or two.
Your truly,
ME.

Copyright © Michael Hawk Moore | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by T Wignesan | Details |

Unquotable quotes Writers - XXXVIII

Unquotable quotes: Writers – XXXVIII

     for Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra and Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoieski  
     who let not even hope sustain them and who used their own last   
     drop of blood for ink

The time is at hand when robots tutored by “how-to-write” softwares are ready to take over from creative-writing teachers.
Successful “robot writers” won’t need penthouse apartments nor mountain resort hideouts to produce their masterpieces.

The cut-up and fold-in method, the stream of consciousness and surrealist techniques are mere bird-formatons broken by airplane wings or shoals of sardines shattered by sharp shark strikes. 

Every living creature espies the world through a tiny aperture in its eyes. The writer perceives the same world with himself in the principal role.

Writing unlike painting or composing music requires full-time living and for which you don’t get paid: it’s like living in limbo and you get paid once you’re dead.

A writer who has attained “sacred cow” status through, say, the attribution of a Pullitzer, a Booker or a Nobel, produces thenceforth manna and ambrosia fit only to be consumed by the Gods.  

Even the most prolific writers have only a few much-talked of books to their name, but the greatest only leave one – at the most two - to be remembered by: The Odyssey, Ramayana, Shakuntala, Manimekalai, Silappathikaram, Genji Monogatari, Monkey, Don Quijote de la Mancha, Gullivers Travels, Candide, Canterbury Tales, Crime and Punishment, Ulysses, excepting Shakespeare, of course, for he certainly must have had three pairs of hands.

The self-published writer still perpetuates the hallowed lineage of the great writers of yore.

You can always tell when a writer has nothing much to tell: the book gets catapulted into the eye from every bus-stop and train station platform.

Isn’t the best writer of prose always the poet at heart.

Who is the true author of the book? Experience or the educated eye? Or both?

Can a man or a woman who hasn’t lived dangerously nor be in constant danger of being overwhelmed by life, itself, author a work of lasting value?

Writers who autograph their books at a book launch can be assured the buyer will not read beyond the autographed pages.

Post-colonial writing is exactly what it says: after the fashion of the colonial-canon: historical fiction, magical realism, anthropological travelogue, diary diarrhoea, testosteronal feminism, poésie à la mode de bourgeois sentimentality… War and Peace, Dr. Zhivago and Cien Anos de Soledad beget Midnight’s Children, etc., and A Suitable Boy; Greek tragedy – The Road. And a good deal of what passes for poetry in South Asia and Southeast Asia where Eliots, Yeatses and even Horaces abound!

The successful prize-winning author - in the eyes of the media –  is a prophet: by rights he/they may pronounce and declaim on the fate of the world.

The unquenchable dream of all unknown writers, not represented by top-notch literary agents: an Ayatolla FATWA!

The facile tongue often betrays the true métier of the author: ACTOR !

The pecking-order for authors in the limelight is ordered by the number of books sold.

Writers who have made it into the eight-digit royalty class tend to shed wives like moulting skin: fill in the blanks – Arthur _______/
Marylyn ________.

Don’t “enfants terribles” writers let late starters walk all over their backs as “fast finishers” ? 

A wise writer will hold on to his best work while he lets the literary agent and publisher’s editor re-write his juvenilia, until the hooked public acclaims his name.

When you have finished reading a novel, and you are not totally and abysmally disgusted with every living human being still standing – including yourself – then, ask for your money back !

Writing is like eating: what gets digested must of necessity be absorbed; the rest must be expelled. It helps to have sturdy Hemingway legs!

If you became a full-fledged writer by following creative-writing courses, then you have no right whatsoever to your name on your books. 

Who said: “Don’t ever (let your shadow) darken the portals of a university if you want to be a writer!” Tom Wolfe?

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016

Long Poems