Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Long Inspiration Poems | Long Inspiration Poetry

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


Long poem by Cyndi MacMillan | Details |

SYLVIA, FOR CRAIG CORNISH, FOR ALL PLATH FANS

                         
                           It is a terrible thing
                           To be so open: it is as if my heart
                           Put on a face and walked into the world.


                                          Sylvia Plath, Three Women, 1962



_________________________________



SYLVIA

Sylvia, ever lucent, ever opaque,
an incongruity, a clever imbalance               
that spins collections her hounds facilitate.  
Failures and fractures she bravely lanced
with noncompliance. Reader, rebuff collars
labeled as forewords, smug introductions, 
for Plath’s voice is tenfold more a scholar 
than those receiving undue benedictions.    
Lofty beggars seek to bookend her words
and that empty space she instinctively refills
with her universe, a mayhem that girds,
unapologetic. Mirror images spill
over margins, searching for identity,
negating preamble, snubbing apathy.   

Negating preamble, snubbing apathy
with language that flickers, catches, combusts,
her volumes of wicks, her lit soliloquies,   
glint behind the stained-glass of trust.
There are those who are not really here,
they wander fault lines then crisscross chasms,
lost pilgrims who easily commandeer
unwary emotions. Some hearts just spasm,                         
pulled by their own nature, their delicacy,
for poetry is a weakness; poets die
between verses. Odes can become elegies.
The thin-skinned hear a snared rabbit cry,
and pray for the moonflower, always closing,
while cursing that page, unmoved and dozing.

While cursing that page, unmoved and dozing,
she corners rigid guides, keeps fingers poised,
synchronicity goes, the flow of typing
disappears, mislaid, that perfect noise
of a carriage return, a sound exclamation.
Joy is inspiration making its way home,
her Olivetti forages like a raven,
gifting found nouns, verbs that glare like chrome,
but love still flits, turns from hoarse requests,
and she longs for more than any man can give
for what snags worn ribbons will not rest,
it emits a strong beat, throbs as it loves.
Bless the bitter of life, all wisdom owing,
curse the open heart, its shadows showing.
  

Curse the open heart, its shadows showing,
for worldly delights take full advantage
of the wounded, their brokenness growing.
Everyday beauty wrings arteries, dredges
chambers with barbs, a prompt disobedient.
Fact, there’s no folder large enough to hold 
elation’s girth, no ink conveniently
on hand to black out depression. So, scold
the yew, its roots and branches reaching,
then poke at petals for being complacent, 
when all the while a candle is preaching
of give and take, surrender, luminance,
So, carefully archive apprehension,
revealing blue veins to tender lesions.

Revealing blue veins to tender lesions
requires much more than a room of one's own,
hours do dissolve, days lack cohesion 
when milk sours and tantrums are thrown.
Solitude is in short supply, loneliness,
however, is overstocked; her mind tugs      
at busy hands for attention, such darkness
contrasts to jammy smiles and sleepy hugs.
Elusive titles whimper each morning,
and short stanzas steep, so desperately,
all the while a manuscript is scorning
her swipes at dry crumbs, cold pots of tea.
A life sheds its months, gallows take delight
as sundials atrophy in the arms of night. 

As sundials atrophy in the arms of night. 
the moon blanches tidepools, suckles sand,
even the face of the clock is pulled too tight
and the new calendar can not understand
that writing is sex, is fresh bread, is air,
that time is a brute, quick fisted, rough,
that weeks come and go without a care
that a marriage vow is never enough
to mend adoration, repossess bliss.  
Words make better lovers, rarely stray,
upon her lips, the impression of a kiss
feels as cold as sheets then melts away.
Paper sops afterbirth, accepts her all:
fossil and seed, shackles and free falls.


Fossil and seed, shackles and free falls,
unlocking visions, defying any cage, 
art resists validity, upsets stone walls  
to scale the scarlet heights of a rampage,
to breach the barricades to euphoria.
She excavates id, bares teeth at ego, 
plays the parts of illusion and phobia
then infuses rhyme with soft indigo. 
Colossus begins to shrivel as Ariel
unmans him, riding hard upon metaphors,
and will remain strong, constant, ethereal. 
but curtailed are epics that still implore  
like the cusp of dream long after you wake

Sylvia, ever lucent, ever opaque.









 

 
* For Craig Cornish, whose contest inspired this piece. Thank you, Daddy-O. 




About this poem

This is my first crown of sonnets. It took over 25 hours to write, a full week of me-time! 

These are modern sonnets and the syllable count is extremely loose, intentionally, as it would seem odd to keep things too tight when writing of Sylvia. If anything, I regret not being even looser, altering syllable counts DRAMATICALLY. Also, I used a great deal of slant rhyme for the same reason.


I really wanted to capture Sylvia Plath with this poem, and it was a real struggle. Her language is so precise, and I wanted to do her justice. I had wanted to feel, upon its completion, that Sylvia would have said, "Well, it isn't quite horrible. Not bad for a novice. And there are parts of me there, but only the smallest bits." I do not feel I did this.  I feel like I didn't even TOUCH her mastery of language. But, it is good enough for now.. one day, who knows? 

Oh, Sylvia's typewriter was a Olivetti Lettera 22. It was portable!


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


Long poem by David William Breidenthal | Details |

Your Inner Inspiration

(##background singers##)
Honestly, things are getting out of proportion (Do your part, man!)
Give me a portion of your love (a portion of your love)
You’re my ultimate luck, desire and devotion 
You’re as beloved and spectacular 
As a dove, taking divine flight, soaring up above… 
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 
Things were getting out of hand; 
(But oh my word!) Don’t you look so grand!?

(soloist: Ooooh so grand…oooh you look so grand
Do yah need a helping hand?
Oooh baby don’t break my heart or I’ll remain blind!
This young heart is . . . ye-yearning for your love to repair my state of mind!)

*CHORUS* 
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 
Gi-give me your hope, your inner inspiration 
Your sugar and spice . . . ooh, darling, don’t you look niiice . . . 
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 
Spread butter to the toast!
Sprinkle salt and pepper upon my distasteful flavor!
You’re a gift that has been granted from God – 
My heart jumps merrily with elation!
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 

Frankly, things were getting out of my control (control yourself, mate!)
Give me a tool to unscrew myself from my pitiful state
(My abominable fate . . .)
(Soloist: ’Cause ~you’re my x2~ sunrise!! You have a sympathetic soul~! 
You make me feel so cool! Don’t mistake me as a fool!
I don’t want you if you’re an inadequate tool . . . )
You’re as thrilling and fun-loving as an adorable puppy – 
A present for my personal achievement! 
(Soloist: It puts me in a happy state!! *operatic*)

(S: Ooooh in a happy state…oooh you look so sexy in your outfit!
Do yah need a helping hand or are you so . . . full of it?
Oooh baby don’t break my heart or, like a baby, I’ll throw my 2-year-old tantrum or fit!
This young heart is . . . ye-yearning for your love to repair my state of mind! 
It’s something . . . I must admit!)

*CHORUS* 
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 
Gi-give me your hope, your inner inspiration 
Your sugar and spice . . . ooh, darling, don’t you look niiice . . . 
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 
Spread butter to the toast!
Sprinkle salt and pepper upon my distasteful flavor!
You’re a gift that has been granted from God – 
My heart jumps merrily with elation!
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 

Things were out of my reach
When I was an innocent, happy-go-lucky child
I’m like a frivolous, wild child on the playground, 
Gaining inner inspiration on his sweet leisure time!
(On his sweet, sweet leisah time!)
You were made of cheap shtuff, 
But, nevertheless, you’re a tight toy 
That I wouldn’t have the heart to get rid of!
(S/background singers—Get rid of it! You have the guts in you! x2)

(soloist: Ooooh you got the power…you got the guts
Do yah need extra support to carry your load?
Oooh baby don’t break my heart – no if’s or but’s –> b.singers: about it!!
This young heart is . . . ye-yearning for your love to repair my state of mind!
You were my friend and my awesome Abode . . . 
Where are you now? Are you driving or treading another road?
Are you alone and distressed? I’ll get yah out of that uncanny moooode!)

*CHORUS* 
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 
Gi-give me your hope, your inner inspiration 
Your sugar and spice . . . ooh, darling, don’t you look niiice . . . 
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 
Spread butter to the toast!
Sprinkle salt and pepper upon my distasteful flavor!
You’re a gift that has been granted from God – 
My heart jumps merrily with elation!
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 

*BRIDGE*
You were my Kreative Kite, 
As fearless as a golden eagle, about to take wing 
You are a sundrenched, appealing sight…
I’m glad you’re alright . . . you are just flying with your all your might!!!
Bring it on! Bring it on! I wasn’t aware that you can sing!! 

You must sound amazing . . . I wish you happiness all day long!

 I wonder what your hopeful gift will bring!
You and I feel like we . . . actually belong! 
Don’t get me wrong! You are a remarkable song!
You were made out of gold, dear! 

You aren’t gravity-bound (and that astounds me greatly), so have no fear!

It’s so crystal clear that I love you, so draw near to me…stay here…

You’re as sparkly as the ocean and its warm sand
You’re my faithful flower, 
Swirling in the current of the untamed wind
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 
You’re simply a surreal . . . sensation!
(ooh ahh oh oh ooh) 

(Soloist: To tell you the truth,)
Y-you are beyond temptation . . .  
(S: Could we take a picture in the Photo Booth?)
’Cause y-you are my inner inspiration!!!
I’ve experimented with love and you’re my first legitimate one out of the bunch,
But you are another story…oh, Love – how I adore you so much! 
You don’t deserve a face-punch! 


Long poem by Louis Borgo | Details |

Why Question No Question Question Is Now

I was born on death of arrival on birth.7:01 Am,  one of the coldest days  to record,
I battle for my life for every beat to every breath I was born premature.

Being born premature I was born with learning and mental illness and despite 
Of the disadvantage I broke barriers of stereotypies and prejudices that would follow.

Why Question that it is a recession does it mean mental illness rise? 
No Question the research from
ashbournenewstelegraph co ukHomeRecession worst, blog.atoshealthcaretagof
recession on mental health, thefiscaltimes, RecessionsSilent Mental Health... would include That facts does not lie, 
Question is now who is listening. (those R website just without dot coms) 

Why Question in the headline it’s the mental ill that’s making headlines
 No Question they all ask for help put the system ignored or failure report those demeanor read between the lines…
 Question is now could that have been your family or friends so why make fun of the mental ill to feel inferior? 

Why Question they say that people with too much education is at a higher risk of become mental ill? 
No Question they say that mental ill can’t have weapons if so then why is it 1.5 million roughly in the military that has sometime mental ill with weapons? 
 Question is now that Bill Clinton stated on Cnn that gun laws will never go away because (forgive me if I miss quoted)  the voters don't hold the people they voted in office to there word to do so.

Why Question that a person got to do a violent act before you determine that there mental ill and if that is so why do we have prisoner that could be mental ill
 or, is it one in same being and state from a television host “to do violence you must be some type of mental ill” it would be simply, if he ask the first question I stated then fumble with his words No question my doctor said if you are depression more then three day then in there book a person is mental ill 
Question is now why have smoking been written in constitution or some states and you know what type of smoking I’m talking about so who is to blame.

Why Question that the medicine they give us that can make you aggressive, more violent and sometime even suicidal but when go to sue them it was not enough evidence to prove but ten years later you can’t sue because the statue of limitation but time has ran out
No Question a comedian made a joke about the same thing was it a joke or was it a movement you tell me much luv to him! 
Question is now is if a person life is more valuable  then a buck if not why is  manufaction  a G over one prescription not knowing all side effects.

Why Question what is the debt ceiling as well as the glass ceiling seems to be something to keep minority from stepping in the next class because it all revolved around money and who is usually get short stick? (the poor) 
 No Question food stamps being cut, health care require and we have been in a war or wars since I been born I guess my generation was a victim of society the Lost Generation indeed,
no wonder inmates believe government own them. Now question does this facts lie? act lies if so why is history books rewritten in college every semester? Question it now

Why Question in the bible it speaks to the effects things will never be heard or seen would happen
(1 st Corinthians 2: 9)  I paraphrase that….. No question Jeremiah 8-9 once again paraphrasing  the people that became of power and knowledge used it in the wrong way and god later destroy the city
 Now question god spoke lyrically and God creation us in his own imagine and I have research that a person can come out of depression naturally but does the doctor tell you that? 

Once again it is a small percent of mental ill that does violence and most time they are the victims. I have giving my life to science I have giving my blood for 10 years and im only 25 years old my doctor told me by year 2020 it should be cure for my disease being born which such a disability may you know I gave my life to science so child like me will never know of harass words to endure.....

I will probably die before 30 or 40 because of malpractice and my disease Why question, No Question, Question is Now what is the definition of crazy and that of mental ill? 
My last statement is, I am the not only person that speak out for mental illness October is mental ill awareness would you like to say you spoke for reason? better yet chance.... 
(a poet and still running)


Long poem by David William Breidenthal | Details |

Poverty, Angst and Anxiety Dx

In the mirror, I see my face melt away in shame
And, yet I still hunt for game…feeling this shame without a well-thought-out 
name

I hunt you down to catch some inspiration
I’m not looking for fame…I want to see you flourish with anticipation 
But, my heart’s pumping with aggravation  
Why do they put labels on me? Why do I devour their debris?
Perhaps, it makes them feel satisfied… to know that I had a psychotic 
breakdown
Why me? How did I end up in a mental institution? I wish I could flee…
I wish I could…I wish I knew
The true answers…but I’m left to question my own actions…
Not to seek satisfactions…
I want to be set free…
From poverty…
angst…
and anxiety…
How can you comfort me…how can you save me… 
In this time of tribulation?
Do you sense my distasteful, hideous frustration?
You are a supportive companion, I see…
I still think of you fondly…of course I do, you see…
I think of you being with me possibly
I’m gazing dreamily at your sparkling eyes
Were you aware…(didn’t you know…) 
I was waiting for you on the other side of the barbed wire fence? 
Tear collapse in the palms of my right and left hand, 
Drenched in desolation and I’m seeking repentance 
Where are you? 
Where did you go off to?
Are you grazing in your own outlandish maze? 

(~!@#$%^&*()_+)

Fear arise from their deathbeds and lands in my mind (a misery magnet as it 
is)
Don’t plant regret that catches me off guard
Life can get so hard…life can get so hard…
It’s something I’d discard if I had the guts to do it
I’m a distressed, demented and determined bard
But, I’ll become a flourishing, upbeat, and earnest poet 
One day, I wish to be a light that illuminates the reader’s mind
Grace in your own maze – you can’t have my land! It’s a land only I could 
understand!
I must stand tall and make a triumphant stand!
I hope you don’t mind me being blind temporarily
This test of being blindfolded is difficult and gets me out of my shell 
completely
I’m a deck of playing cards with a missing card, however, I’m played with all 
over again, waiting for the battle to begin
Pushed in the margins… pushed out of shape, indulging myself in this one 
particular sin!
Where’s my kith and kin? They are in my heart, deep within! 
If you only wore my skin, you'd understand what I've been through...if you 
only knew (help me find my other shoe) O.o
If you slipped into my shoes, you'd be sympathetic, instead of criticizing me 
out of the blue... (I'd say otherwise, knowing you...) o.O
I can taste a smile creeping in..it’s such a surprise – a gift I prize
I will never despise it, 
But don’t you know that I’m not wise and trapped in my poverty pit?
I’m staring longingly at your crackling, dazzling eyes that singe with fire
Your grin is what I hold dear – 
Tt’s a gift that I prize…
Giving me natural highs
You fought the battle and the wind whistles in our ears…
Sorry for releasing these tears that have been in captivity inside of me
It has been in captivity in me for so long, longing to be free…
I tell the voices in my head to leave…
In Christ’s name, will you leave?
Just let me breathe for a second…I can’t believe 
 I didn’t tell you that I care for you so much…
I’d give up my life for you
Vanity is not what I reap this time
I’d sacrifice myself for you
Spending time with you is wicked and sublime – 
It’s another mountain to climb
It’s another arduous adventure – time flips like a rusty dime
I’d do anything for you…I’d give you satisfying vibrations, vibes and chills
You gather merriness in the flower hills
You harvest paradise and sprinkled it upon my wings – this feeling never kills
This feeling never kills my positivity 
Do you long to flee like me? 
Do you wanna sprout with me like a nourished tree?
You fought my battle and you looked after me when I was alone at home
You shot the predator down (YOU MADE A BULL’S EYE!)…he was tracking me 
down like a spy…
Life holds such a significant meaning…despite the gray clouds 
That frown upon me so…like an envious enemy, wearing hatred shrouds
Nothin’ but gray skies blanket my eyes…
I’m pretending to be included in the crowd
When I’m alone, I don’t feel alone with God keeping an eye on me
I pray earnestly and willingly…


Long poem by Funom Makama | Details |

I Said, He Said

Finding a new hiding place the grass cutters cherish not taking advantage is deemed extremely foolish. Taking note of the lady who seems Scottish and protected by her beauty and charisma is a situation meant for me to act upon With my courage, her intimidation must vanish. I sit on the available chair and reciprocate her welcoming smile. "Your fixed focus on the meal and comfortable sitting position means you are all alone"......... I said "So?"...................... She said. Despite being famished I needed some inspiration and creativity to keep this hard to find wealth rooted to my territory. "But your moving feet and gentle mastication shows you need company"...... I said "Well! You may be right"........She said. My gaze never left her blue eyes as this ravishing being threatens to tarnish my reputation. "What brings a working class attractive, young damsel to a place like this?"........ I said "to eat"................. She said. Nature came to my rescue as what arrived was my dish garnished with vegetables and fish. "Avoiding someone or is it just humility?" ............ I said "neither"......................she said. As the Cheetah waits patiently to pounce on its prey so I am. Waiting for the right time to tick. "Your short phrase answers remind me of a princess from India"............... I said. "Thanks, but who was she to you?".............. She said. Now in a welcomed territory with the precious gift of liberty and freedom. the bee is about to dance with the rest in their honey comb. "My first Love but no more"....... I said "What happened?......She said It seems the path chosen is right what is left is for us to walk through it. Nothing else, just walk, walk and walk. "She developed the arrogance of a Briton".....I said "Just that! She's worth a second chance if she's as tough as the Jew"..... She said. Can the dog ever be the king of the jungle? can the bamboo boast of deeper roots to the Oak? That's me! Sitting on all of Nature's components right now. "Oh my dear! That spoils it all".....I said "Really? Tell me more"..... She said. As my Tongue wags my brain remained blank with its sensors dissipated. "Are you saying she should be quick to anger ?.... I said "You mean the Jews are quick to anger?...... She said The more the talk the more her welcome. A pleasure to behold and an experience to die for. "Yes and also very cunny"..... I said "How's that?"...... She said. My mouth speaks of another to an Angel who seems so human while the mind is already in full possession of this being so unfamiliar but dear. "I was once given change with two $4 bills inclusive in a Jewish shop"...... I said "hahahahahahahaha! Then the Jews are indeed silly and crafty"...... She said Feeling already in the promise land, I drink its milk without asking and lick its honey without minding "the deed always speak for the doer".... I said "But it's still an assumption and not all may be same"..... She said. A little current then passes through my head stimulating the need to seal this opportunity. "Forget about those devils! What if I say we hang out tonight?"..... I said "No, actually!"..... She said. Impressed by her feminine flame which is not uncommon to gorgeouses of her class I pulled the gear once more awaiting the motion to begin. "After such an interesting chat you say no? Are you seeing someone?".... I said "No! But I am a Jew and one of those devils"...... She said. Starring in frustration and self-hate, I stay inanimate, lifeless and dumb, while she laughs graciously which increases the already existent injuries, cutting me piece by piece in the inside. Nothing I said Nothing she said.


Long poem by Louis Borgo | Details |

My In Heritage

To know your history is to know your literature a lesson to learn, which will Stand the test of time and what one founds of their in heritage no matter how enduring and grim it may seem it something you should embrace- I came from a small city with big roots and routinely I was ask “where are you from”, especially from girls, if it wasn’t that it he thinks he cutie? And I’m asking why I would say something like that. Or He thinks him smart, God!!! I’m just answer the teacher question? But when I got older, older woman told me they probably think that ascent was sexy and I’m thinking where in high school what do they know about sexy? Man is her computer seat warm? America woman I just don’t understand them? I wonder what they do if they heard me speak a few difference language at same time? Thank god I’m quite because it not like they can read my mind. But it got me thinking from and questioning My Roots- What I found was the name Borgo had many difference Ethnicity & meaning with it as well as nationalities and that Borgo is Small Island between France and Italy. And if history may not mention it was a Borgia who captured Napoleon? How do I know where did it take place? BorgoBaby- No wonder I like Caribbean woman and it is this one that get my heart beat beating up to 400 beats per seconds if that is possible I can’t say it is a forbidden love but what I will say is breaking the ice and melt when think out loud? And yes she knows my name but why ask not why but why are some lyrics so deep my dear? Remember some old friends asking don’t you make beats? As I have some bread and tea. And that Bourbon is a drink, a Pecan Pie and a Street I’m thinking man if I have girlfriend What date it would be- Then I dig deeper and found the prime sources that seem to let to these events the Borgia or borja married into royalty which happen to be Louisa Borgia who married Philp De Bourbon or Philip V of Spain. He was rejected as King Louis legitimate son because born out of wedlock but later accepted but Philp never forgave and where he could have been both king of France and Spain he was just the king of Spain. Question I ask do any one know today the real reason why France has no nationality? Hurtfully to write or hear but i heritage mean full name as should other take to one, I have heard rumors that true bloodlines of nations of Kings that don’t rightfully take the throne it is a reason for that but not my place to say the way history is written is just to say to remember men wrote history but literature holds another tell? Who can tell the differences, but one question for god I always ask Why so much war my lord, I truly feel like a man without a country and Just walking away- I myself never came from money I start literally from nothing but as I got older I was given legitimate connection legitimate ideas and principals and the understanding of wealth but so trying of spending night and days with no day off of a seven day week wonder if I can make those principals work for me as sick as I am there are reason undefined why I do this things and money is not the endorsement my life is more complication then eye may receive to capture but if you listen you learn more than just hand written if you get the drift- I was never told of my in heritage put as one will it something like a scare or tattoo I had to found to adjust to my nick name is “Jason” but my full name is Louis Antonio Borgo III as I’m about to fall to sleep and lost all aim of conscience I see a email with my full name spell out in Ancestry.com question how did they know I was search for them and if I ever be accepted from this other half as I am a man literally without a country and in love with French woman more than American the phone rings and a woman from Canada called speaking French I drop the phone and finally I fall to sleep and As I sleep dreaming could anyone imagine wanting to go home but where? Remembering the ringing noise of girls ask ” where are you from”...


Long poem by Peter Duggan | Details |

From anxiety to Joy

From anxiety to joy

Hi to all my friends
   I decided to write this story of me down, because I see so many unhappy people on this site. They make this very clear to me when I read some of their beautiful poems. I have tried telling it in verse, but now I feel it is time to write it down in prose

    When I was a child I was not happy because I had very strict parents who robbed me of all my freedom. I was a very freedom loving boy and I felt so totally restricted in a family that never could and never would understand me. There was a lot of psychological cruelty handed out to me by my Father and a hell of lot of bullying, I was subjected to by the other kids, I came from a very rough part of London called Peckham, and I was an extremely sensitive young lad.

    When I grew up I married a beautiful Australian girl named Vera who is still my beloved wife after fifty years. We immigrated to Australia, and after about three months, I decided to join the army, and I volunteered to go to Vietnam, so I could pay back the kindness that the Australians had Showed me by receiving me to their beautiful country.

     I served in Vietnam for about nine and a half months, then they decided to ship me back to Australia because of injuries and illness. when I came back my troubles all started and I developed PTSD, even though I had not really been in much danger during my days of war. I was filled with a terrible anxiety, and  was absolutely terrified of both life and death. I had these periods of deep, deep dread that completely ruled my life. I was angry most of the time, and I detested everybody I ever met with a vengeance so hard to understand

     This got worse and worse as the year proceeded, and I tried everything to control it, from counselling to reading every kind of self help books, and I read every religion, and all the stuff by so many different Spiritual teachers until I had a bookcase brim filled with all the books I had read. I tried every kind of meditation, plus yoga, Tai chi, and many other things. However, nothing worked. They helped a bit but not enough to stop the ugly terror I felt.

    Then one day I came across a man named John Sherman on the net, who has helped so many people, and thousands of people now practice what he advocates with much success.

     John told me that all I had to do was close my eyes and look at the me ness of me, it was as simple as that. At first I laughed at him with this simplistic approach to gaining back ones sanity. But I was desperate; I had walked out on my wife for a year and given everything I had away. My anger was getting worse and worse, and when I finally came back to my family, I really wasn’t worth being with. My wife tolerated me because she loved me so totally, but I could tell that I was leading her into Pyschological, of physical illness.

    So I gave John’s method a try, I meditated every day using my me ness as a meditation point. I don’t mean my thoughts or sensations, emotions or such. I mean the ‘me’ the part of me that actually runs the show. The ‘me’ that always seems hidden but is always there in the background. I noticed some changes in me very quickly, but then the progress came slower, but very steady.  Now I have been doing this for nearly five years and the difference in me is phenomenal. I am so happy now, that I could almost scream with joy. I have no more anxiety any more, and the dread that once debilitated is totally gone.

     My neurotic fear of death has faded, and although I don’t want to die, when it comes I will be totally ready for it. My life is so beautiful these days and everything seems so beautiful, and crystal clear. These days I walk on feather feet, and I am so grateful to John and his wife Carla for what they gave to me. I really want to share this with anyone who cares to listen. You would not believe how beautiful my life is these days.  Thank you for reading, all you who reached the end of this story. I hope it helps you as it most certainly helped me….Peter.


Long poem by Brody Brown | Details |

My Thoughts of You

So fuck it, it jus causes me 
agrivation
Your killing me i can compare 
you to taxation
Your a constant source of my 
fucking aggrivation
Pretty soon there will be an 
altercation
Due to my fucking frustration 
Im gunna kill you both ooh, 
how about castration? But it 
was you caused it so fuck you 
and the god damn explination
Shut the fuck up bitch im sick 
of your  all your exploytation
You used me you slut, thanks 
to you i have inspiration to 
send you to heaven,
Ha more like hell and youll be a 
piece of shit call it your 
reincarnation.
I write with anger as a source 
of ventilation.
I wanna scream at you through 
amplification!
LOUD ENOUGH BITCH! 
screaming at you is my way of 
communication!
Because you dont fucking listen 
I just had a hallucination, you 
were going to prison 
then you came to me looking 
for compensation.
All i said was "congradulations i 
hope you rot and suffer from 
starvation"
Well go fuck yourself, i wish i 
could give the judge a 
commendation for putting you 
away.
I hope you have a realization 
that your a cunt, i only say that 
based on true information I 
hope they lock you up till the 
end of your probation and thats 
18 months with no chance of 
early cancellation. Maybe youll 
figure out what you did was life 
altering and you realize your 
actions are faultering your final 
destination. Ill tell you where 
you gunna go no where bitch 
cuz you a hoe who has nothing 
to show heres my explination. 
Your Satan and thats just the 
reality not my imagination 
heres whats on my mind im 
God you are my worst creation.
You're a fuckin' coke-head slut, 
I hope you fuckin' die
I hope you get to hell get a 
needle stuck in your eye
I hate your fuckin' guts, you 
fuckin' slut, I hope you die
And you wonder you Why?
Why not? But, please don't get 
me wrong, I'm not bitter or 
mad
It's not that I still love you, it's 
not 'cause I want you back
It's just that when I think of 
you, it makes me wanna yack, 
what you did was whack.
But What else can I do, I 
haven't got a clue.
Now I guess I'll just move on, I 
have no choice but to.
But every time I think of you 
now, all I wanna do puke my 
guts out. Now jus fuck it all, 
especially you. If i was you, id 
be a piece of poo and yes my 
album name is a fuck you so 
guess what? Fuck you and that 
asshole Tiger too! You call me 
boo boo but thats what you call 
him and every nigga youve 
played too. So haha fuck you, i 
hope the next time i see you 
youll be in a casket and ill be 
wearin all black crying boo who 
(boo who) but wait i wont ill jus 
laugh at you (haha) because 
youll be dead and ill be 
standing over you and ill spit 
on you! (spit noises) how much 
i hate you, you aint got a fuckin 
clue and your love cant go to 
two and im who you skipped 
you fuckin shrew. Savannah 
youll be the topic of my debut. 
I wanna stab and burn you call 
it fondue. Your the obsticle ive 
gotten through. You played me 
like a kazoo soo buzz buzz fuck 
you! I need to wash you off like 
some shampoo. your no longer 
one of my worries Hakuna 
Mattata just like your tattoo. 
What you did to me you cant 
undo. Theres nothing youll live 
up to youll be a bum haha deja 
vu. Huh, i gave you everything 
look at it from my point of 
view, you left me out of the 
blue, deep in love i tried and 
met the true side of you. You 
know whats true im gunna be 
big one day unlike you. So go 
ahead hold your head high but 
in the inside you know your 
worthless and theres nothing 
youll ever amount to. Im the 
reason your wrists are bleeding 
and cut too, and now im proud 
of it that shit cant be 
misconstrued. Ive got a large 
list of things to do one is to kill 
you, check, this verse just did 
you wanna review? Haha fuck 
you bitch, im done with you but 
alas i still think about you. I 
cant get you out of my head jus 
like I cant end this with out a 
simple goodbye and fuck you!


Long Poems