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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.

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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 Jorn Kolding | Details |

The twins, Part 1

In the dark of night a wind took hold,
With powers charged to shake the sky,
By moody swings of gods up high,
Their breath alone enraged and bold.

In the dark of night history spoke,
Of a world alive with fury’s voice,
When life was full of fate and choice,
And death the augur in the smoke.

In the dark of night a man did dream,
Whose tale these words we now account,
Be brave my friend this chariot mount,
By nothing less shalt this vision redeem.

Struggling through the combative gales,
A sleepless figure tossed and rolled,
With wondering sight a story was told,
Of mysteries shrouded in ancient tales.

Upon this figure two more did glare,
Faces are but vessels for orbs to divine,
Not sufficient to be one through design,
Two alive but so unlike to us stare.

These twins that see by darkness alone,
Feel the truth in the shine of art,
Ending where the few dare start,
These bright globes make gold of stone.

With raging winds our story begins,
The battle set both within and out,
The world’s pictures thoughts about,
Action the habits, blindness the sins.

With Boreas alight wandering above,
A divine force teased with subtle math,
To follow the Phoenix on its path,
Or kneel in tears with a praying dove.

The tempest in all its mighty flight,
Decreed with a fist the obvious!
So proud, so proud, yet so oblivious,
The storm forgets his humble birthright.

The wild winds be but a paper tiger,
The hands that give it mighty thrust,
Wields no whip to allure its trust,
Holding a low cup, a cat just finds her.

Such be the crispy breeze in deed,
To roar, puff, blow things down,
Seeking doors to equilibrium’s town,
When heat in fact needs cold to feed.

Wind seeks the muse of inspiration,
A lull, then a rush to arms to end,
Her charms the air does commend,
She whispers with bated respiration.

Such my friend is the temperate truth,
The tempest being no storm cries,
For its maker with love sees its lies,
The swordsman’s tail swings uncouth.

With no further aside we now return
To one whose sleep our vision seeks,
Into this mind the devil now peeks,
Intellect put off so symbols could turn.

Seeking passage to dreamlands alter,
Further and further the eyes withdrew,
A fatherly vessel, twos sons the crew,
A ship who by one one would fault her.

The tides of reflection ebbed no more,
For the two in one the world was gone,
Sands of sleep their eyes set upon,
Dreams for obeying in days to store.

‘Saw the one, the troubled of the two,
Again vain Boreas with eyes asquint,
Forged to see not flowers but mere mint,
An ignoble man, through and through.’

‘His drifting eyes of warrior bent bow,
Blind to the combat of peaceful keys,
Gazed upon Orithyia ready to seize,
The light by which he would never know.’

‘In one fell swoop he swept upon her,
An immortal force not fit to engage,
Death by shock, a rose in a cage,
A sword can never a heart procure.’

Tailors we know make not the man,
Nor, to wit, does he who blow impress,
The finest garments fit best to undress,
The suitor, naked, conception’s plan.

The warrior’s blood once led the world,
What man wanted man merely took,
By far better ways the world was shook,
Now only fools let their swords unfurl.

Still within us sleeping reptiles wink,
Side by side the peace laying dove,
Whose golden egg sits on a glove,
Disarming the insults men might think.

Yet by tinted thoughts some still fall,
There walk among us wanting men,
Who touch stones instead of women,
Blind fools like statues they do install.

To such a fellow we now must return,
By unlucky choice he cast his dice,
Gambling rage would make life nice,
His heart of fire for ice would burn.
 
The I then of the one who took control,
With eye inclined to dote ambition,
In Boreas he saw worthy commission,
Jewels taken justly by godly parole.

‘Reading now the face of himself,
Pleased to see opportunity’s chance,
His office in life he wished to enhance,
His brother’s book push’d off the shelf.’

“This world is made for the taking,
By will alone my will will be done,
A wild beast untamed I roam alone,
But not for long my flight in staking.”

‘Fighting the angel by his side,
He saw in Boreas a better figure,
With sharp mirror set to disfigure,
The Abel eye, his far better guide’

‘Eager as a dog ready to surprise,
Our hero set off to execute his plan,
With canine teeth and on four he ran,
To she who soon would be his prize’

To think a surprise can live in a dog,
Is like seeing a rat for a filet mignon, 
So deluded a man can appear to one,
Whose rose is above all mist and fog.

‘With tongue wild about he grabbed,
The hand intended for him that night,
So sure his lust would disarm a fight,
So shocked to see her smile stabbed’

“Unsightly hair-chested beast you are,
Withdraw from here in haste and fast,
Better to drown alone in seas outcast,
Then with you fly off with fettered tar.”

“Listen little man, listen with your ears,
Give not violets your muscular arms,
Whispered fumes make better charms,
Graceful words for love sheds tears.”

“Fear most of all power’s delusion,
For the deluded become denuded,
Gaining nothing, nothing included,
Power wins only a life in seclusion.”

“Go to thy chamber, scream and yell,
Amend, however, by all smart means,
Your spiteful mean loveless routines,
Thou art but a mute, a soundless bell”

‘With reproof in hand he up and went,
To vent the gales in charge of him,
The dogfight over with outlook dim,
He saw his brother of different bent.’

‘Reaching for the floor the fallen book,
Whose pages spoke a turtle’s tongue,
The unread by thorny bees are stung,
So wiser he for counsel stole a look.’


Long poem by Cyndi MacMillan | Details |

SYLVIA

                         
                           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 Isaiah Zerbst | Details |

The Maid of Orleans

Reflecting in her garden sits a winsome little maid;
She holds a purple flower like the circlet that she made
And wrapped about her braids to grace her forehead like a crown;
Her thick and shining braids that are the shade of chestnut brown.
A soft and dreamy smile lifts her lips of cherry rose
As she so elegantly lifts the flower to her nose
To smell the rich and heady fragrance rising from its soul-
Upon this day in early May, her heart with joy is full.
But look! The heavens open wide, and joy is changed to fear,
For Michael the Archangel in the garden does appear,
And with him stand Saint Margaret and Saint Catharine, sent to seek
This girl of twelve, and in her frightened youthful ears to speak
Words form the Lord, of how someday, somehow, she'll have to save
Her native land, her land of France, from lying in the grave.
When in their bright angelic garb these saints to heav'n returned,
She knew they had been sent from God, her heart within her burned
With strong desire, with heaven's fire, to do her Father's will;
Her heart beats hard, while all around is silent, calm and still.

The years pass by, now seventeen, her hour is fully come,
And what is now but distant fancy, dull and throbbing hum
Will be her life, her joy, her pain; her darkness or her light:
For God and country, king and freedom, must, she must needs fight.
The chains of England must be broken, young prince Charles crowned:
A source of hope, of inspiration must for France be found;
For civil war rakes raging claws through weary, hopeless men,
Who fight and die, and sacrifice, and lose their homes again;
Their gardens, flocks and herds, and treasures, all are swept away:
With nothing left but life itself, and naught to do but pray.

God heard their prayer and sent her there for their deliverance,
To lead them on to victory through every circumstance
Of treachery or deviltry that loomed on every side.
Urged on by all the saints above and martyrs who had died,
She bound her armor to her body, helmet to her head;
A troop of eager soldiers to the Orleans siege she led.
Without a fear she faced the battle, banner held up high;
It filled each fainting heart with spirit, waving in the sky:
Unfailing, never falling, always standing at the fore,
And filling every weary soul with courage to the core.
Though wounded by an arrow striking close beside her heart,
She still pressed on to victory, she played her vital part.
The Maid of Orleans did her best, she held back not at all,
But risked her life at every turn to heed her heav'nly call;
She fought and bled and braved the beast until her king was crowned,
And even then she carried on, she traveled all around:
Each city gained broke off the chains of power-hungry kings,
Who killed to gain another's land, his citizens and things.

Alas! She met her fate at hands that should have helped her cause;
The countrymen she battled sold her to be judged by laws
And men that all disfavored her, yet still she firmly stood,
Proud head held high, two gleaming eyes; she answered best she could
Each twisted question meant to trap her clear but simple mind:
With wit and art she answered each; they really could not find
A cause for death, but death must be for such an enemy
The fate; who sees such visions full of vile heresy,
Of saints and angels revelating mortals with God's plan.
They also charged her with the sin of dressing like a man,
But it was of necessity she donned a soldier's guise;
For all throughout the war-torn realm roamed pairs of hateful eyes
Who did not heed a woman's cries, but did what pleased them best:
They killed or maimed or stained for life from eastern France to west.

So thus it is, not twenty years, they chain her to a stake-
The final chain that no amount of bravery can break.
Within her dress, hugged to her chest, she tucks a wooden cross;
The symbol of the Son of God, who faced such early loss
Of life, and like her was betrayed and mocked and led to die
Without a cause, without a crime, without a reason why.
Ten thousand people press around; she feels the burning heat,
As flames grow hotter, ever hotter- licking at her feet:
But on one thing and one thing only both her eyes are fixed;
Upon the figure held before her- on the crucifix.
And she is thinking of a time that seems so long ago,
When as a girl she used to sit and watch her garden grow;
She'd pick the purple petaled flowers, braid them in her hair;
Her life was simple, pure, and sweet, she hadn't any care
Until Saint Michael gave her calling to her way back then.
But if she had another life, she'd do it all again,
For God and country, king and freedom she could die this death;
And so it was that thus she died, and with her final breath
Her soul and body parted ways, and while her body burned,
Her soul went on to realms unknown, her soul to heav'n returned
Into the hands of He who made her, to the arms of Christ the Lord;
Who made for her a better body, more than just restored.
Here ends the troubles of this maiden, gone are jail cells dark:
Forever live the Maid of Orleans, known as Joan of Arc.



{Written by Isaiah Zerbst. For the first time published on October the 13th, 2014.}


Long poem by J. W. M. Earnings | Details |

The Inception: God is Alwayz Good -part 2-

Was I ever handsome in God’s eyes? When will I take…take…
When will I take flight?
I’m counting the days to see you fly so gracefully…in the aqua-blue sky
I can’t wait to see you take wing and embrace the sun rays
My heart has been reduced to tears many-a-time…my love, why…oh why…
Take my hand…give yourself a rest from the worries of countless yesterdays
I can’t bear the thought of you, losing grip of reality
Your eyes are bottling up tears of the years of pain-staking regrets
Glory crowns the Lord of Accord…we need to look up to Him one way…
Or another…I won’t bother to open up another door of disappointment
Yet, I have this need to say sorry to Him for neglecting His word today…
Rinse away the blood of the innocent 
From your hands…
Grand lands fight against each other…I weep some more
Understand…that change is a challenging chore
Look up at the sky…
Your gaze will fixate on the shooting stars tonight
Give me the will to fly
Was I ever handsome in God’s eyes? When will I take…take…
When will I take flight?
I got so mad…I-I got so impatient...I got so out of control, obviously losing control…I got so tired…of facing the fact that I’ve been out of place, stuck in place, frozen in place…until God set me free and made me free His star in space…I’m free…wearing sunlit glee…no longer wearing an upside down smile…God, thank you for allowing me to run the extra mile…please stay for awhile…I’m sorry that I-I gave up…I gave in to my addiction…I’m ashamed and naked now…drowning in never-ending sorrow seas…I don’t regret the reason why I love you, Lord of Accord – come back to me…come back to me…I didn’t mean to stomp over You like a mat…I was fattened way too much by sins and pleasures of this life…the disdainful, confuzzling past drove me insane…I can’t bear this burden anymore…I need to let go and stop bringing you down…come back to me…come back to me…I’m as needy as a new-born infant…
I need to drink the milk of Your spirit…nourish me with Your pure Words of WiSdOm
 Rinse away the blood of the innocent 
From your hands…
Grand lands fight against each other…I weep some more
Understand…that change is a challenging chore
Look up at the sky…
Your gaze will fixate on the shooting stars tonight
Give me the will to fly
Was I ever handsome in God’s eyes? When will I take…take…
When will I take flight?
I believe I have the answer behind being bewildered in my maze…
…Okay…the reason I let You down is because I haven’t been faithful to You at all…and gave in to the lusts of committing adultery…and I languish…I languish…I reckon Your words…but I haven’t kept them to heart, yet I’ll meet up to Your standards one way or another – but failure is all I knew all of my life…I was alone for so many years…set me free… set me free…leave me be, sins…sins…my young heart weeps insanely…I’m beating myself up for the mistakes I made in the past – if only I haven’t laid my eyes on scenes that consist of sex….I shouldn’t have done that…I’ve been chained to this apprehension and these pangs of pain that lead me to my inner distruction for oh so long…but I must let it go…and let the knowledge repeat in my heart forevermore…I’ll learn it by heart
Rinse away the blood of the innocent 
From your hands…
Grand lands fight against each other…I weep some more
Understand…that change is a challenging chore
Look up at the sky…
Your gaze will fixate on the shooting stars tonight
Give me the will to fly
Was I ever handsome in God’s eyes? When will I take…take…
When will I take flight?
I need to dismiss the distractions…
I need to quit feeding the fire 
I thought sex was a beautiful art…it somewhat fulfilled my satisfactions…
Of my heartless desire…desire…
PUT OUT THE FIRE….
I’ll say my prayers as the chorus of screams bleed through my mind’s eye
I call shotgun…drive the car, Lord of Accord – restore peace to my verse, drive me to the lane of Your Holy Spirit and its blissful blessings of plenty…miracles and curses have hit me in every corner…I rely on you, Driver…I love you, Father…Father…Father… I hope you can forgive me for all of the things I’ve done…I’ve tried to throw away these anxieties…that banged at my skull…crack open my writing abilities and let my inspiration unleash itself
I rest my head on Your pillow…but I got to get dressed and clean up
Rinse away the blood of the innocent 
From your hands…
Grand lands fight against each other…I weep some more
Understand…that change is a challenging chore
Look up at the sky…
Your gaze will fixate on the shooting stars tonight
Give me the will to fly
Was I ever handsome in God’s eyes? When will I take…take…
When will I take flight?
You made me strong enough and I feel Your love toughen me up and clothe me…you know…let your affectionate heart grow and let your light show
I wish I could’ve gone with the flow…
Let Your healings show…I know…I’m worthless and slow…
Retarded…unlovable…tainted with lies…my mind’s overflowing with negativity and low self-esteem comments…I was that icon of self-indulgence as Amy Lee sings in her song entitled Everybody’s Fool in that epic band by the name of Evanescence


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 J. W. M. Earnings | 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 J. W. M. Earnings | 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 J. W. M. Earnings | Details |

Inception: Uproot Me Free - Collab with Mikey part 6

Stimulating ideas pop into your head
You need a pen…you need a piece of lined paper and you gave it your best shot to pass the difficult test
It looks like you’re outtah luck…you received an F for Failure…no wonder you’re drowning in dread
You need a shoulder to lie your head down for a moment’s rest… I didn’t mean to be a bothersome pest
You need a helper…to aid you while you struggle emotionally…
I’m not trying to irritate you on purpose, but I want you to be unchained free from the chains that dejected you totally!  
Fly with me in the aqua-blue sky and reach for the clouds
You were unable to flee due to suffocating in custody’s shrouds
I must endure till the end...life is one massive errand 
In hopelessness and fear, love and hope wasn’t in mind and my heart dwells
Around every dark corner…I was floating gaily on the riverbed…happy-go-luckily paddling around, wandering around aimlessly
I never thought you’d let me drown in my detestable dread – you would rather see me dead probably 
My heart is bleeding out like a river of blood…frankly, driving me insane 
I feel like messy folders, left in the dusty office of nothingness...you stored me in a dark place I once called my "Heavenly Haven"
The memories of you with me send vibes down my spine…mirror my pain and see to it that we receive vast amounts of His Healing Rain
Now, I drown in the tears of shame
You hunted me down like game...I was that animal, dead and lame
I was busy looking for heaven
But it was all the same
I'm untamed ...so unleash your inner inspiration and shower it down on me
Hell I remain in blinded by you but now I SEE
Now I'm drowning once again waiting to be saved in this lonely and deep dark sea
While you I left to be ever so free
That I've fallen way down...I've been weighed down...agony - the countless drops of despair and dismay -is what I stumble upon...I gave my heart a break...for heaven's sake and I've taken all that I can take...I drown in blasphemy's flames of uncertainty and toil of plenty
I watch you as you, without permission, flee…with a never-ending attitude of gratitude and you wore sunlit glee
To a certain degree, you tried to set me free...free...from our own captivities...but failure kept pace with you...
I hope you can see...see...falling in love is only in fairy tales, you see?
You got love affection attention comfort and honesty but you never gave me any
Now from your actions you spun this deceitful web the reason I remain ever so blue
You outran me with your bottomless cheers and hopes...you lifted yourself up with your accomplishments
Like a shadow lost under a tree
You got me nowhere and no achievements
I'm a fly, trapped in the web of bewilderment...and you wrapped me in woe-made worthlessness
Rapt in rue...
Sick of feeling blue
You drowned me
With your river of tears, you see? I thought you and I could be elevated by creativity and be enlightened by the endless wonders of the deep, mysterious, blue sea 
You left me there to wither and fade away with nothing more than emptiness and hopelessness
On you were left to flee…you are set free from your catastrophe 
Feeling hollow and doused in dismay...what can I say on a day like today? Did I ever make progress?
Why wouldn’t the memories just let me be?
You keep telling me over and over again that you want to be free
You aren't free because you are enchanted by your lusts and under the spell of sin
You blinded me by your vain lies – I thought you were the best, but now I’m forced with a broken heart to wave my goodbyes
You tried to dress me up with happiness, but behind my clothes, I felt naked, lost, bewildered and felt less like a human...naked and ashamed – that’s how I felt deep down inside…I was caught up in a total mess...but, I must confess – 
Your ways tainted me like the ink of the tattoo under my shedding skin.
You left me to be for awhile in loneliness…my alienated ambition and hope strengthened me with passion and adrenalin 
You drugged me up with your lies and fervent, false fantasies from deep within; 
Yet, darling, I would like to thank you for helping me out through thick and thin
I’m writing words of truth though – 
Expressing how much I’m fond of you


Long Poems