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Long Introspection Poems | Long Introspection Poetry

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

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Long poem by Trisha Sugarek | Details |

The Ash Can

The Ash Can  ©

I got the call on Sunday night.  I was traveling on business.  When I looked at the caller ID
 I wondered why my husband’s boss would be calling me.  I was unprepared for what
 he told me and my legs turned to water when he said that my husband was dead. 
 ‘A heart attack?  An accident?’ I asked.  ‘No’, he said, ‘John committed suicide.  
 They found him in your garage this morning.’  I heard someone screaming and 
wished that they would stop so I could hear the rest.  His voice was very far away
 and the woman just kept screaming.  ‘Shut up! Shut up!’  I need to hear.  I clapped my
 hand over my mouth when I suddenly realized it was me who was screaming.
 I don’t remember hanging up or getting on the plane. (beat)  Yes, John and I were having
 problems and we had been separated for about three months but nothing was official. 

 After thirty years of marriage I never believed that we couldn’t weather this and share 
the rest of our lives together.  This was just a phase he was going through…some sort 
of mid-life crisis.  This had to be some horrible mistake, a case of mistaken identity.  
My John would never do this, leave me like this.  (beat)  

I stumbled into our home around nine the next morning.  The house looked like a woman
 hadn’t lived there for months. Dirty dishes in the sink, groceries half put away, empty 
beer cans and a full ashtray by John’s chair.  Seeking comfort I walked over to his chair. 
 Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a reflection in the mirror over the
 fireplace.  Some wild looking woman with mascara smudges under her eyes and smeared
 lipstick looked out at me. I walked closer to inspect this stranger in my house.  
She looked old and used up.  Who was she?  What had life dealt her to look so worn out? 
Oh, God, it was me.  Staring out with those eyes bleeding hot, raw pain.  (beat)  I curled
 up in John’s chair and closed my eyes.  Was this all I had left of my husband?  This slightly shabby piece of furniture that still smelled of him?  How could I tell our children?  Could I bear to go into the garage?  What would I find? 
 I knew that they had taken his body away but what had they left there for me to see?  
Maybe something there would prove that this was truly a mistake.    I rose to my feet and 
walked into the kitchen and through the laundry room to the garage door. (beat)

I slowly opened it and was knocked back by the remaining stink of gas fumes.   
John’s car sat in its parking spot, the garden hose hanging from the back window like 
some obscene snake.  I gagged and pressed the button to open the garage door.  
The passenger side window was open so I could look inside without having to touch the car.  And what I saw on the seat told it all.  There was John’s cell phone, an empty bottle of Vodka and a bottle of Excedrin.  (beat)  And something else…a second cell phone…what in the world? I was only allowed five seconds of blissful denial before it all came crashing down on me.  The second phone…the secret phone that men who cheat keep to talk to their lovers.  All those protestations he offered during the time that we were apart.  ‘No, there was no one else’, ‘I just need to find myself’, ‘I don’t want a divorce’, ‘I just need some time’. ‘I love you; I’m just not in love with you.’  Lies, all lies!  How could I have been so stupid?  Then I notice a crumpled manila envelope on the floor of the car.  Anger driven, I opened the door and picked up the envelope and the two cell phones and went back into the house.  Sitting in John’s chair once again, I smoothed out the envelope and read what was written there.  
‘Ricky, tell Sherry I love her. Tell Sherry I can’t live without her.  Tell Sherry not to cry
 for me. Sherry, I’ll love you forever. I’m sorry.....John-Boy.’  Who the hell was Sherry? 
 Did my husband of three decades kill himself over some tramp?  Some other woman 
whom he barely knew?  I picked up the second cell phone and scanned the history of calls.
  Where was area code 864? As I set the phone down my eye caught the partial title of 
a book lying on the rug under the table.  Picking it up, I read: ‘How To Keep A Long 
Distance Relationship Exciting and New.’  I opened it to the first few pages and found an
 inscription,  ‘To my tiny dancer, until we meet again.  Love forever, your John-Boy.’
My God, John, how could you?  How could you do this to us?  I yelled as I threw the 
book across the room; will this hellish nightmare never end? (beat)  I picked up the
 cell phone and scrolled down the history; Sherry Hoffman, Sherry Hoffman, Sherry Hoffman, Sherry Hoffman.  No other woman, huh, John? South Carolina…hence the long distance relationship…you’re such a fool, I told myself. There was voice mail saved and I listened to the most current ones.  Those messages told a story of a married woman who had a son and a new grandchild. 

Another sad, pedestrian story of a restless woman trapped in a loveless marriage but
 unwilling to leave.  The daughter-in-law apparently would not let Sherry see the child. 
 It seemed that John, in a misplaced attempt to help, called Sherry’s son to insist that
 he let Sherry see her grand-baby. 
 Only to succeed in blowing up that family.   The final message was not so sweet and 
sexy from his lover. Sherry had dumped my husband. (beat)  I didn’t know whether 
to laugh or cry.  I seemed to be trapped in a crazed, unbelievable soap opera.  But what 
is it that they say about truth being stranger than fiction?  I sighed.  John had always
 wanted to rescue anyone in trouble…even when they didn’t ask for help.   He had crossed
the line calling that woman’s son.  Oh, John, what were you thinking?,  I asked the empty
 room. Didn’t you know?  You were her dirty little secret.... (more)

(from my book, Monologues 4 Women) 





Long poem by Dorian Petersen Potter | Details |

How Can I Not Love You

~How Can I Not Love You?~ (Free Verse) Even before I met you the way I do now I always knew about You, perhaps not in the sense and the right way that I am so lucky to do up to this day. But I always felt your presence and knew of your existence. And I know that for sure I already loved You all those years even before I met You all the way that I was supposed to do. How can I not love You, and want to know more about You and all that You are and mean to me; after all that You've done not just for me but for everyone else that I know personally and that I may not know in my life. You've made me the person that I am today; You've molded me into a better human being, and that's for sure, I know that I'm a better creature now, than I ever been in the past. Since I met You personally and accepted you into my heart. Since I confessed each and all of my sins to You, with all my heart and soul, I feel for sure a lot better, I am kind of relieved. Oh my Beloved, sweet Jesus, I do love You so,very much, and I do thank You for all that You've inspired me to be, to write to paint and to do all thru my life. You're the biggest inspiration ever of all, and You always will be. You make me so strong by giving me hope each single day. With You I am not completely alone ever in my life, no matter what I go thru or what I may feel at times. My life would be so very empty and dark just without You. How can I not love You, when you keep all of my darkness away You fill my emptiness and refresh my soul and spirit all the way when I get tired and thirsty thru all my long walks thru this dark world. I am so happy that I met You at last when I did You'd brought me so much love and comfort and goodness in all, and You forgave all my sins and always You do and will, and in spite of all You still do and I am reassurance that You always will no matter what ugly sins and transgresions I commit against You or anyone in this whole wide world. You take all my bitterness away, You complete all the puzzles of my very existence and life. I just believe in You 100% percent and much more in my heart. How can I not love you? When You help me in all that I am and I do, if You've created and made me the much wholesome person that I am today. I just want to be more like You, and grow better each day. Since I was introduced in my life to You and your sweet loving ways, I've accepted you,You're my Lord, my King and my Savior. And I've gotten to know you in my heart so well, all thru these very long years of much ups and downs. You dried all my tears away and gave me hope, where none sometimes was to be by me found, but only in You. You hear all my prayers when I come to You. I know that You will respond to them if that fits in your plans. I do know that You know everything better, and that You will do what's is right. You've loved me when I've felt no love coming from anyone around some times. How can I not love you? if You're the One who died for me and had offered and given me forgiveness and glorious eternal life, You give peace and rest to my soul and my whole life. You take all my pain away thousand of times over all the years. You put on a smile on my face all the time. You've given me so much beauty to see and enjoy in so many things. You've given me all the people that I love and hold so dear to my heart. Your love is unconditional and eternal, and You love me more and better than anyone ever can. How can I not love You? when You're already part of my whole life and existence, You just complete me! in every each way, because without You I wouldn't be here and be who I know I can and You want me to be. Because of you I can love and better and feel the way that I do. I have a heart more full of love and compassion and forgiveness all because of You, my very beautiful and sweet Jesus. How can I not love you and worship you the way that I do when I think of love and life and all starts with just You, Thank you so much, for giving me all that you've given me, I am so grateful to You, my Sweet Almighty Father in Heaven. How can I not love you? If your very name signifies love, hope and life in all that I see and know. You're with me now every single step that I take, You hold my hand and help me rise every day. You love me so much and loves us all, With You I have an eternal home one day in Heaven and that for sure I do know. How can I not love You my sweet Lord then? Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2013 February.10.2015


Long poem by matthew harris | Details |

Letter to taeljejohn

uncomfortableness, and hesitation arose that you might reassess a possibility for friendship or.... whatever with me.

A disappointment set in place in the event that based on some facet of my being (inexplicable flaws within this corporeal human male), forecast that an about face (booked on charges inherent in this googly eyed, earth-linked, kool hotmail of a yahoo) would be un liked!

Juno what i mean? 

In retrospect, no matter that this average boyish chap desires enjoyment, he admits that ordinary punctuating various stages of development difficulty coping found him msn (miss sin, missin, missing, et cetera) on ordinary interpersonal experiences!

No matter yours truly usually finds me each morning, noon or night conjuring up maximizing temporary residence on this planet earth versus bemoaning those futile and essentially counterproductive mind games sans could a, might a, should a, would a...

today = the moment to cherish, enjoy, help others, ponder the remaining years
since fruitless to expend tears
for suppressed emotional, financial, grammatical, hormonal, physical, and spiritual angst
 that roiled mine inner sanctum - mainly from decades in the past
   which unseen scars with humor this fellow (who by the way likes you) wears!

Notice the sly inclusion of my comment per -- affinity, desirability, rhapsody for you
although just but a mere inkling prevails about an ye taelje john thru
a rather contrived manner - albeit an online adult oriented website - amongst a slew
which yields to this bipedal hominid a scant few
initial responses - as if a ghost app paired in the recipient email - going boo
which unwittingly seems to turn the ivy blue!

So...no matter a constancy of follow-up electronic communiques occurs from ye
bringing tears of joy, that nobody can see
while simultaneously delivering digital glee
a reality check restrains proclivity and predilection to let thoughts run wild and free!

Immense and immeasurable mounts in moi little rock
inducing an electric arc for myself to kin neck embedded in all this schlock
for a sixth sense arises that this holme body strongly suspects yar self 
 to generate sunny watts as an s spy she lee Sherlock

but, reticence to gush with ebullience reins in a cascade
of utter delight washing o'er this less than satisfactory mwm 
 who as a boy and youth happened to b a frayed
of his own shadow - while walking along the boulevard of broken dreams
 listening to the sounds of silence on a green-day.

Thus => the following from one 

Cerebral being ™ in the am and pm
 
This ordinary human
Finds himself a mystery
Within the terrestrial
Firmament and frequently
Feels in a feverish pitch
At his existence
That seers the temple
Mounted upon this slender
Frame - wrought by the
Combination of genetics
In tandem with exercise
Which latter helps to
Sublimate the coiled 
Tension wound tightly 
Like an indestructible spring 
Without a healthy medium at large 
To channel emotions fraught within
Me might find demise
That would rent asunder literate fellow 
And thus annihilate without a trace
One true valued father of two us special
Lovely lasses as just another statistic among 
The obituaries!
 
As the world turns (indiscriminately oblivious of the harrowing days per one simian), an agreeable, amiable, edible, immeasurable, likeable, pleasurable, sensible woman (such as yourself - predicated on a gut level intuition) goads more seriousness to share

Plaintive unheard heart strings o mine that wail
Displeased with this marriage fraught with travail
As if in a maelstrom whip-lashed vessel without a sail
Yet - averse to lambaste or rail
Against abby (whereby we pass like two ships in the night) who married this male
When each of us happened to seem more similar 
   And thought each ourselves to fail
At any endeavor, though now confidence 
   Buoys my heart while she doth ail

And exemplifies attitudes, beliefs, efforts, 
   Idiosyncrasies, pathos that life does rot
Ill suited to Matthew Scott, 
   Whose bon vivant manifesting faith in him
   Perhaps from herself deferring many domestic 
   And child rearing tasks not
Of course being boasting - even when scissoring the umbilical cord
   As a now beaming papa, whose daughters 
   Blithely ignore "mother" a lot
Thus necessitating this quest 
   For a counterpart to offer succor 
   To eden (age 16) and shana (14 on february 4th, 2013) 
   Yet accepts that i must dispel any dreamy fantasy even this ours - a mere jot
At this juncture knowing full well how unwise to set myself up for disappointment
   By thinking and rushing like a fool, 
   Where angels fear to tread
   Though "chutzpah" i got!

U r slowly filling my mindscape with joy
Thank you so much - for accepting without complaint how atypically words this writer wannabe 
   Named Matthew Scott Harris dozen ploy.



Long poem by arthur vaso | Details |

This Poem May Kill Me, or Not

Notes: I am putting the notes upfront, suicide is no laughing matter, however, anything that makes it something that can be discussed I think is a good thing. Humor really is an aid to many an illness. Note the poem starts with a reason, when someone is at the point of suicide, there is NO reason. It is an illness like any other. Also inside humor  and innuendo is meaning. Enough said.

I went to the casino of love last night
I placed a bet on romantic seven
Lost all my chips, ain’t going to heaven
Broke me heart
Lowered head, I walked back to the car park

Next morning I woke up
Put a gun to my head
Click
Click
Click
Click
I can’t even win at Russian roulette

Need a change, to get away
Mending the pain or soul, some might say
Took a plane to Bengal
Ended up in beuruit
Walked right into the middle of a war or 2
Explosions all over, around me head
Thank god, soon I shall be dead
I saw a terrorist with a real mean look
I waved hello, shoot me, shoot me!!!
I am sure he would have given a chance 
But someone else tossed into him a lance
Seems even in a war I can’t make myself dead
Sadly I lost at even this deadly dance

Then an explosions tossed me sky high
Was i going to heaven, was this my grand demise?
No, I landed in the sea and just on time
For a cruise ship to save me, soul and all
Off too Florida it seems
Death sure has some gall


I was walking along a sunny beach
When all of a sudden two gangs appeared
One Cuban, one Mexican, they sure looked mean
Two gangs known as killing machines
Here is me smack in the middle
My lucky day, for how could I lose
Suicide was assured, come on, you know it
I yelled to both of them
I am DEA, and I think all of you queers are very very gay
That out to get me the bullet I wish
What the hell, they all dropped their guns and surrendered
I admit I was starting to be mighty offended

So now I have this Medal of Honor
For saving a community of drugs and plunder
I just can’t win at the casino of life
I can get myself killed no matter the plight

So back home I go
What the hell
I’ll fill the bathtub
And give that a go

You think I’m bragging or boasting of death
I am serious, this will work, why drowning for sure
What could go wrong? with such a fine plan?
All I want to be is a dead dead man

So yes, I fill up the tub with water and suds
I down some pills, some booze and some bud
I am drifting off, to my purgatory bliss
When I hear an alarm the wakes me
What’a darn bitch
The buildings on fire, ok I can burn in my sorrow
Except the bathtub collapses and doses the fire

I am a loser, this is for sure
They gave me Medal of Honor again
For saving all the seniors by making it rain
I am not dead, and I am not happy
Seems I can’t accomplish 
Even my death
Even this task I make a mess

Now I am curious, I have to ask
Have any readers killed themselves yet?
This tale that’s a mess, being alive is giving me stress
If not read on, it’s gonna get better
Someone I will succeed at this suicidal adventure

OK now a bridge I hear is a good place to die
Not to hard, you jump and say good bye
I can do that, doesn’t seem hard
So now I stand on a Golden Gate Bridge
Happy at last that life will be over

All of a sudden a huge shaking occurs,
An earthquake , oh lucky me maybe the bridge will collapse
Not to be and you know that now, it tosses me infront of a car
The car brakes and halts and honks its horn
Till it sees the crack in the road just up ahead
If not for me falling right right there
That car would be the one drowning in the ocean of despair

They jumped out and hugged me and kissed me with thanks
Apparently I saved an ambulance full of pre mature babies
You know what happens next, and don’t you go crying
Another Medal of Honor for me, a hero without trying!

What the hell I give up
This suicide profession is harder than you think
Hell I might as well go back to my whiskey and drinks
Live in the darkness, and pray that one day
Life has enough meaning that I wish to actually stay

So now that these ideas so dark and so deadly
I have discarded without hope, so now I will be friendly
I will join the world of human souls and laughter
Even if inside I still lack such basic character

No more silly ideas of death
I need to move on and make life the best
So off to the store, to get me some groceries
A new leaf I have turned and I confess to a smile
When I am crossing the street, I see to my horror
That I am hit by a bus, and finally no damn tomorrows


Long poem by Joe Flach | Details |

My Conversation With God

I have been praying to God ever since I first understood the concept of a deity.  Although I have struggled through life with my acceptance of and belief in the religion I was force fed as a child, the praying has always stayed with me – on an almost every day basis.  In some way or some form or for some reason, it seems, I find myself praying to a God I am not sure I believe in.

Over the years, some of the things I have prayed for or prayed against have worked out in my favor.  Other things didn’t quite work out the way I had hoped.  So, I wondered, was this proof that my prayers are sometimes answered or simply the law of averages?  It really didn’t matter, I was programed to pray and so pray I do.

This has been going on pretty routinely for over 50 years; so, imagine my surprise when, for the first time last night, God talked back to me!

I may not get this exactly right, but, in essence, this is what He had to say:

(I am not sure what font to type God’s words in, so I will just keep on with the default.)

“Joe, Joe, Joe.  I have been listening to you for all your life.  And, whereas I do enjoy your thoughts; your words; and your sentiments; I find it is time for me to respond.

You really do pray a lot for lots of things.  Mostly good and humane things.  Mostly with a pure and caring heart.  But, son, you need to stop doing so much praying and start doing more stuff on your own.  I am not up here to make your life easier and to do things for you.

When you were young, instead of praying for that bicycle, you should have been doing chores to earn money towards buying it.  You could have cut more lawns, washed more cars, got a paper route, sold lemonade, or many other things other young boys were doing to earn money for the things that they wanted.

When you were in high school and prayed to me to help you do well in your wrestling matches, you should have, instead, been working harder at practice; spent more time on your conditioning; spent more time in the weight room; and studied harder on the art of wrestling.

In college, when you prayed for help on your mid-terms and finals, you should have, instead, spent more time studying and less time partying – I think that is something you already know.

Even when you pray on behalf of others – you should be doing more.

Instead of praying I would help old Mrs. Conner at the end of your street, you should have gotten up off your butt and walked down to the end of the street and looked in on her yourself.  You could have offered to go to the store for her, pick up her prescriptions or simply keep her company in her final years.

When you prayed for me to care for the starving children around the world, you should have been volunteering to help out yourself or donating more money towards this cause.  If you funneled all the money you spent on unnecessary junk food and extra meals you consumed throughout the years towards charities that help feed and clothe the poor, you could have saved many of the children you prayed that I would save.

Instead of praying that I cure your family, friends and acquaintances that you knew were ill or dying, you should have been visiting them in the hospital or writing them letters or providing assistance to their loved ones to help ease their pain.

Prayer is not the vehicle for you to be lazy and yet gain the rewards.  Prayer is not a means to have me do for others what you have the power and ability to do yourself.

I am glad that you talk to me, but you have been granted the ability and means to do so much more by yourself and yet you choose to take the easy way out and pray to me – the God that I know you are confused about.  Please, do me a favor, and before you pray, ask yourself, ‘Have I exhausted all avenues available to me to achieve the result I want God to perform?’ 

If, after you have done everything you can possibly do, then I may be more willing to consider what it is you ask for.

And now, my son, you can wake up.”

I sat up quickly in my bed, sweating and confused.  Was I just dreaming?  Was that really God talking to me?  Then, somewhere from deep inside, either from my conscious or a left-over message from the Almighty Himself, I thought (or heard): “What does it matter?  Whether it was God or not – the message is valid and something I probably already knew.”

“Well,” I said to myself, in prayer, “I will give it my best.  But, is it okay if we still talk?  It kind of helps to give me strength?”

Silence.

I will take that as a, “Yes”.


Long poem by Robbie Butler | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/meaningful_screw_yous_459127' st_title='Meaningful Screw You's'>

Meaningful Screw You's

I'm done with this I've had enough of this/
Slushy trip since Hell Paso son just quit
This empty pursuit
Of letting the past keep livin' through you/
Go ahead and equip the damn truth
It is that simple to choose
What state of the neighbor of the temple you use
But you're just so adamant to worship/
Every preliminary negative
Which is why you have sentiment for those sedatives
Want evidence man your head has been/
Set on making your *****Titanic as
You steer into a gigantic crash/
Without any ****ing idea what effect thy absence has/
On the kids and on me too/
My heart feels ripped the honest truth/
To see you empty as your holes in the wall
You're like a ghost to us all/
Pale as the Seroquil pills you down/
I want to help but under the meds what you feel gets drowned/
I have the inauspicious fear you'll end up just like Tommy
That's why I pray every night/ I can't lose you Robbie


You have no idea 
What it's like
To watch you die
Every day
Every night
All the time
You can't even see that I am
Here with you
By your side
But as much
As I try
You deny
That I fight
For your life then I scream that
To me your life's meaningful (good riddance) 
But I'm 'bout this close to sayin' **** you (you idiot)
To me your life's meaningful (good riddance)
But I'm 'bout this close to sayin' **** you (you idiot)


Why can't you just forget the past
Take some time to look at the bigger picture and not be back in a flash
We're Kruger (pronounced close to sounding like Kroger)/ the fear you helped restore gives me bags
And I'm beyond tired of takin' attacks from your last-
Ing grudge for my darker days/
I love you but I wish to part our ways/
There's only so much my heart can take
In terms of holes and you immerse me in 'em the Spartan way/
It's not our choice we're physically far away/
And yes half the reason is me that our spark gave way/
But this time it's your fault that our world is shaking
You shut me out because the ears of another girl were waiting/
It seems that even for Britney your concern's decaying
It's ****ed up/ 'cause you never acknowledged how much I changed/
'Cause of our rapport me and my fam are pretty much estranged
**** these games you love to play/ 'tween now and then nothin's changed
Good luck not lovin' me as much as pain


You have no idea 
What it's like
To watch you die
Every day
Every night
All the time
You can't even see that I am
Here with you
By your side
But as much
As I try
You deny
That I fight
For your life then I scream that
To me your life's meaningful (good riddance) 
But I'm 'bout this close to sayin' **** you (you idiot)
To me your life's meaningful (good riddance)
But I'm 'bout this close to sayin' **** you (you idiot)


For a year it's been suicide with clues to find solutions I/
Don't think you're usin' my heartful l advice/ damn dude have I
Not been full of time so you could find/ reasons for you to not be blue and live/
But everytime I cope a sit and let you vent/ you walk off and do the opposite/
Talk about exhausted *****try listenin' to all your promises
And problems it's/ a shame how it's all turned out
I'm so burnt out/
I'll be the last to say this won't work out/
If you take your anger out on me again like I'm a dating spot/
Speakin' of those feelings that you refrain from not (knot)-
Icing was it honesty/ or rants of despar (as in spar) ity exasperated by deprav (as in im"prov") ity/
Or is there a real fervor (as in carni"vore") for me
If so then why you ignor (same as above) ing me/
For a Vai's you say you are not strong enough to close
Go **** yourself with a rubber hose
I don't care where the **** it goes/
I was there when no one was and this' the thanks I get
Never was I a dick to you so why'd you wank me *****/
My tears have turned into repressed anger/
For you a brother to me now a depressed stranger
That I have to put up longer than my dress' hanger


You have no idea 
What it's like
To watch you die
Every day
Every night
All the time
You can't even see that I am
Here with you
By your side
But as much
As I try
You deny
That I fight
For your life then I scream that
To me your life's meaningful (good riddance) 
But I'm 'bout this close to sayin' **** you (you idiot)
To me your life's meaningful (good riddance)
But I'm 'bout this close to sayin' **** you (you idiot)


Long poem by William J. Jr. Atfield | Details |

What I wanted What I got

What I wanted !- What I got !

I wanted so much from you Moneca, my Dear,
your heart, passion, soul, your love without fear.
I always knew- for me – it wasn’t in you to give,
to accept me, consider me - with this I have to live.
I also knew, that for you, I am just above nothing, 
nothing in the way of a man you’d be desiring
and in your heart, your soul – for me there is no fire 
no flames to ignite – except for my funeral pyre.

I know, that somehow, I will have to let you go.
How to do so ?, I have to tell you, I do not know 
for you are burned so deeply into this old heart.
To set free, get you out of me, I know not were to start.

You set fires, and lights flashing under me.
You opened my eyes once more, to let me see 
and grow – now it feels, you have set me free
and with me, no longer want to be.

I remember the very first time I took you to dance,
A spontaneous act I thought might lead to romance.
That moment, experience clearly stated “ not a chance ”.
From the first, many moments that could have been, lost 
for me, it has been of heartbreaking, horrendous cost.
For it has all come to not, nothing has come to fruition
as my beliefs, my desires – all lived without intuition.

I though I knew and had an understanding of you.
I wanted so much for my love to be, so you too
could get passed all that life, fate, karma never gave 
and to know Moneca, that with me to the grave,
 you will be special, all ways and always in my mind.
A lady like you – I am not likely to ever again find.

I live with all my failures and with your indifference.
I live with the regret that I was unable to fill all 
the empty spaces in your life with what you needed.
I am sorry that I had no frame or reference,
no mentor, no higher power upon which to call.
I am sorry that I had not seen, had not heeded
your messages, lived up to be the man you looked for
and truly sorry, I am now on the outside of your door.

I truly wish Moneca, that I had made you feel special,
that I would have been able to have brought you through 
and past all that has been the forces that closed you up.
I am truly sorry that you never would see in me
the capacity for being the man you wanted me to be. 

I can not extricate you from my thoughts, my mind.
It seems you have been in my heart for all of time, 
having permeated my life today and all my lives gone,
by the way, seems to be the lyrics of my melancholy song.
I was totally locked into you from the first time we met, 
the day your beauty’s graced these eyes and yet
five years slipped by, with but a few words, and now
I feel, my time has run out, my life’s clock has stopped
ticking, you have let it run down and I do not know how to rejuvenate, rewind, bring back time that was dropped.

I am sorry that I did not give to you, all that I wanted 
to share with you, all that this life of mine could offer.
I know Moneca, as long as I hang on to the memories,
the experiences I have enjoyed with you, my soul will die,
a little with the passing of each and every day,
until there is nothing left, as you and I fade away,
being nothing more then names in my books of history,
and the waning light, in the emptiness of that great night
that becomes loss, the eraser of this life and consciousness

You know Moneca, I will love you until end days,
be your friend, carry you within my heart always,
toughing my soul until we step from this plane
and onto others, and as pure light, us twain
shall travel as great waves, as sonic vibrations
through, to all unknown dimensions 
that surround us, you being a part of me.
This I tell you Monica, for it will be - for all eternity !
These scraps, these specks, these flakes of my thought, 
my feelings Moneca, are at an end, this is all I’ve got !
I apologize for anything written that may not 
represent all the facts or some truth. 
I realize that you may perceive me as uncouth. 
Know my Dear, that I will no longer bore or trouble you.

                      Love
                                     Bill,

 B. J. “A” 2
January 18th 2009


Long poem by James Kelley | Details |

As the Castle Fell

For every step I take toward the sun,
the spark that lit the fire inside me dwindles.
History slated on unforgiving stone erodes;
A weakly chiseled dream.
But I will remember it all,
and tongues shall breed these words
and hold them with intent.
Oh, how we have fallen!
Mighty and meek alike.
We were once just, and strong.
But greatness has cast down it's
poisoned banquet and corrupted hearts
that once bled for glory.
It is with a bitter tongue I speak these words!
Remember the reason we set foot outside
of our city gates.
Remember the certainty in your hearts;
that we men would give people hope!
Hope for life without malice.
Hope for a life of freedom!
A chance for prosperity!
                   ...but what prosperity have we given?
Short of the bountiful throng of arrows that have captured
the eyes of this land and left it's people in fear?
Does a just King rule with the might of fear?!
Or does a King rule with compassion?
I ask you men,
you loyal few.
What would you have me do?
Would you have me slaughter this woman;
this beautiful princess of her people and take her
home as a prize for conquest merely because her
husband was the one that stood in the way?
Is her beauty the cost of her life?
She has wronged not one of us,
and yet you Brakkdus scoff at the thought of
her surviving her King. Why?
Here I thought men of honor followed me,
I thought men of courage swung my blades!
And, yet you fear this woman who could no
sooner do you harm than your own from the
bed that you left her in!
No, Princess Xavia shall survive her King
and remain here with her people.
I refuse to conquer the land of a tyrant,
only to settle for it's fallen ruler's morality!
If that does not befit you, then surely I am not your King.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved
 
 
Princess Xavia's Response
 
 
I stand with humility before such valor
My people have borne
the burden of swords and arrows,
they are silent with fear and trembling before you
Which would be yours
to burden them with once again
yet you offer them freedom
and me my life...when you could shame not only me
but those who are entrusted to me
I would prefer to fall upon the blades of your men
than to become flesh passed amongst them
the destiny of a woman
who has became the chattel of a lost victory
My blood be shed before such shame
be cast upon me
Yet you.... you have offered me back my Kingdom
and restored my name
 
Gallant your soul in the shadow of such a night
beneath the dark stars
where only the flames of a burnt, ashen city
provide any warmth for my grieving people
You have offered them hope
through a frail vessel such as myself,
such honor is seldom written upon the hearts of men
in days such as these
Your compassion is a light in this darkness
these times inscribed with blood
such is this age,
when the voice of stones speak more gently
than the hearts of men
 
Dark are these days and black is the moon
of these nights,
in these lost reveries we journey through
dreams that have become nightmares
Yet strength has arisen in one man,
a leader who throws light back
at the fallen stars
granting the nights a moment of solace
for your honor has returned hope
a light stronger than blaze of the midday sun
 
And as I take back my broken people
we shall take refuge in your kindness and in that light of lights
shall we rebuild this Kingdom,
our sanguine ties shall bind us
and we will rise.
 
 
I gratefully accept my life
returned to me through your kind hands
And secretly, within a whisper
it is my prayer
that when I look upon your countenance
and the time comes
that I shall gaze into your eyes again
it shall be as the queen you have restored
to her throne and to her people
and who keeps quietly within the space between her heartbeats
gratitude...
and the hope that she will share her throne
beside yous
should you find her efforts and her heart
worthy.
 
 
 
(c)  Katherine Wyatt 2013


Long poem by Bob shank | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/historys_sad_song_489592' st_title='History's Sad Song'>

History's Sad Song

History's Sad Song (Revised)

throughout my life
I've heard many a sad song
relating to the lyrics
that seemed to play too long

way back during the Crusade
where religious debt was paid
by the bloodlust of so many
could not ye God spare any
as hundreds of thousands died
over manmade religious pride
these wars continue today
justified by words we pray

Oh, when the saints go marching in
....(Sang by the Kingston Trio)

they hailed from every nation
to defy the written proclamation
prohibiting ownership of God's creation
many fought with such bravery
to continue the practice of slavery
another man's misery
has always been the key
for the powers that be
and who cares about equality
when Kingdoms can be built for free

A Change Is Gonna Come 
........(Sam Cooke) 

but as I study history
one thing has occurred to me
there really isn't any change
Hitlers, just go by different names
as we remember the Holocaust
Sodom and Gomorrah was never lost
but found within the soul of man
burnt crisp, the devil's plan

Momma's Don't Let Your Babies Grow up to be Cowboys - Waylon Jennings 

everybody's got a gun
buying ammo by the ton
myths of old western days
seem like broadway plays
acted out in the streets
a daily performance society repeats
gunsmoke, and the ponderosa
replaced by La Costra Nostra

"Wake Up Everybody"
by Harold Melvin and The Bluenotes

John F. Kennedy died 
a shocked nation cried
what many could never figure
is if Oswald pulled the trigger
while Marilyn slept in the grave
Martin fought for the slave
yes even hate was still around
as Eldridge went underground
Malcolm X was gunned down
with bullets from the nation
to ease Elijah's aggravation

and the temptations sang "Cloud Nine"

another Kennedy has died
Ted needs a place to hide
only not within the bottle
nor behind the throttle
congress opens its doors
to pageboys and lobbyist whores
but they did put a man on the moon
right before Joplin sang her last tune
who would have thought "me and bobby magee"
would be over shadowed by the Manson Family
the blind leading the blind, neither could see
Jim Jones and the Guyana tragedy

Even Earth, Wind, and Fire, "kept their head to the sky"

praying for an end to a senseless war
that no one knew what they were fighting for
our "vietnam" seems up to date
while nixon got caught up in watergate
whitehouse rose "bushes"we love to hate
Lennon left the beatles ill-willed
never to "imagine" he'd be shot and killed

and War Sang, "slipping into darkness",
followed by "the world is a ghetto"

Even "the greatest" shall soon fall 
but in defeat they stand tall
unlike the berlin wall
the thriller in manilla
refused to be a killa
as rap became the new wave
and crack became the new crave
along with video games
just another war, with different names

Teena Marie sang "Deja' Vu"

Nerd Gates becomes the new Donald Trump
while history gets taught by Forrest Gump
a great poet died at the age of twenty-five
though many claim Tupac is still alive
and I saw Elvis and Bruce Lee too
singing the blues with you know who
then came the white bronco on the loose
nobody could manuever like the Juice
except maybe Bill when he said please
a simple word that brought Monica to her knees

and Snoop Doggy Dog sang, "Ain't nuttin' but a "G" thang baby

Beepers became replaced by the cell phone
on 9/11 no one could call home
as war and mother nature ripped us a new ass
even Martha joined the inmate class
now she's out, but Oprah's still the queen
sorry Latifah, you know what I mean
the mother drowned her five children in a tub
she got sent to a Psychiatric health club
the ruling was it's a new sickness
my head screws off from such thickness
so many changes and hypocrisy
I guess that's what they call democracy

and Queen sang, "We are the Champions, 
of the World"

throughout my life
I've heard many a sad song
relating to the lyrics
that seemed to play too long

Bob Shank


Long poem by Adefemi Adejuwon | Details |

The Poet

It is a fever.

  
The poet

They found the poet outside the park

His steps spoke many words of wine

His upper half seemed half asleep

And his feet walked a crooked line

His arms were spread as if to fly

His lips apart as though to speak

The telltale flush of liquid joy

Told tales of  rum from cheek to cheek

The night herself caroused with him

Drunk on sadness, drunk on care

And drink they drank, the weary lovers

Setting wine against despair

The bonds of reason, broken down

His mind amok, and absent sense

The world in woe, the world in glory

Lay before his presidence

 

And it was then they walked to him

Rudely rousing man from dream

Casting eye on village bard

Taking man as man would seem

"Sing for us again, o bard

Cast your words at senses keen"

This was why they broke his peace

Winters twice his summers seen

"Sing for us again o bard

Spin sweet words from bitter truth

Stir the embers of your heart

Dig through elder years to youth. And

Let the fountain spring with might!!

Showering us with wisdom earned

Showing us the link in hand

Of teachers harsh and lessons learned

Free yourself from wine's embrace!

We would hear a tale or two"

Turns to them, a wizened face

"Ask not man, but what is due."

Graying eyes regard the gathered

Moving on, from face to face

"The world whirls in the hands of time

And yet all things remain in place"

"As yet all men remain the same

The board reset a dozen times

Pi-eces unaltered, so is game

Though rearranged, the given lines

You come to me as bank to debtor

You plague me with unbridled want

Says at last, man to tormentor

'Cease at once your unjust haunt""

It is a fever

"It is not a gift so given

It is not a boon bestowed

Nor is sight beheld as blessing

When the eyes have overflowed

With the sorrows of existence

Pain cavorts with all men born

Know the price of your persistence

Hear the words of man forlorn

What is loss compared to weakness?

What is pain compared to need?

When the soul suffers from sickness

To give blood to those who bleed

O for those suffering in secret

O for hidden scars concealed

Know a secret's mark of secrets

Is in wounds that never healed

The world at large, and I remain

Numb in spirit, numb of mind

My inner coldness feed by pain

Reaped from years left far behind

 

It is a fever that I have

It is an illness I possess

It is a symptom that you worship

It is a sign that you profess

To love, to need, to love to hear

While I remain diseased of soul

You chant and clap then disappear

Then falls to me, each telling's toll

 

It is a sadness that I feel

It is madness that I suffer

When the muses offer gifts

Turn your backs and run for cover

Talent has a price, and paid

This price I have, each passing day

Rise to cup and rise to can

Drink my fill then come what may

All my masters come before me

Warned me of the poet's curse

Know you all of Byron's story

Know you all that Poe's was worse

Happiness is bound to beauty

Joy to all that beauty, see

But for those that birth said beauty

All is pain and tragedy

Listen to my fading voice, now

Listen to my silent plea

Know the doom of every poet

And ask of this, no more from me

I will fellowship with Bacchus

Gimlets of the finest sort

Rise to can and drunken glory

Fall to pleasure and cavort

Now my night bids me return

Wine is all that shields from sorrow

Sets me free from all concern

Trouble enough, will be tomorrow"

His soul unburdened, back unbent

All is caught in a lengthy pause

He turns to go, the air is rent

With sounds of cheer, and of applause

Now lowering balding head to ground

"Man may speak but none may hear

Sing for us again o Bard,

Has now become a thing to fear"


Long Poems