Long 12th grade Poems
Long 12th grade Poems. Below are the most popular long 12th grade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 12th grade poems by poem length and keyword.
Alternately titled inferiority
complex since little boy
oft times ponder what
afterlife like beyond far horizon ahoy...
No matter scarce giddiness wave
did carry and buoy yours truly aloft
analogous to dwell amidst
hermetically sealed croft,
imagining small rented farm,
especially one in Scotland
comprising plot of arable land
attached to house,
where hat o' this gentleman doffed,
Thence beckoning thee
to get comfortably numb
nurse cocktail I doctor, ah yea
with good n plenti of rum
lamenting mein kampf
worth ordinarily absolute zero
on par with being
a harmless no good bum
reflecting scores of lapsed years
since bing hard school of knocks alum
lionizing American south antebellum,
Pace of existence found one
idyllic I exclaim
casually sauntering along,
quite welcoming if one lame
especially inviting nineteenth
century hamlet fictitious place name
crafted within A Stop At Willoughby
(think or Google twilight zone
Season 1 Episode 30), where
main character shed his shame,
I too could easily capitulate
if/when time travel will encapsulate
one to journey where simply
livingsocial appeared exotic and great,
versus twenty first century Schwenksville
specifically Highland Manor
each and every resident doth insulate
her/himself within four walls
affixed with memories,
a long gone mate
similar to mine nonagenarian papa,
whose spouse Harriet,
a prior poem
I did poetically narrate,
which rancor hardened filial me obdurate
considerably decreased, yet revisit loss,
now jars thee noggin o' this primate
smoldering resentment - a human trait
did poison when mother at death's door
objection to accursed
disease did undulate
within her cancerous kindled,
riddled, wasted body joie de vivre
loathsome beast could
never invalid date
grim reaper would not wait,
her passing fourteen
and half orbitz ago
Withheld a hug I never gave
presently wince with sorrow,
yours truly never forgave
himself eternal repentance within mine
soul asylum as unseen knife doth engrave
mine mean deprivation
bajillion miles separated us
unconditional love all she did crave.
I am a passerby
these things are facts of Life no lie
But as I pass I still wonder why
positive and negative thoughts cloud my mind without lies
We are all wonderers a thought that comes with smiles
The part to each destiny traveled by lone self
But the decision to bliss lies in the hands of the creator
A thought always good to remind oneself
As a passerby I might compromise
Since I am not guaranteed tomorrow
I live to adventure,make mistakes and improvise
Atleast I know this journey sometimes might be joy the other sorrow
Why does the rain pour and afterwards sunshine?
The day is also a passerby same too with the dark night
We think we are free but we can't choose to be happy everytime
This fact nature holds against us as reminder Torchlight
Our title here must always be the PASSERBY.
The Dream
The Dream which I saw last night was of you,
You are of the most brightest face among the stars of few.
The brightness when fall on the ocean; of yours,
The large wave began to dance on ocean's shore.
Making the shape of the house, on ocean's surface,
The moon with full brightness walk down having your face.
The light enters the house with the face full of smile,
I welcomed that light and make myself star of that moon for a while.
He saw me with the face full of happiness and joy,
I started staring moon with all the helpless eye.
Suddenly a year fall from my lens and moon gets scared,
He rubbed my tears and swallow it all and shouted at me as all he cared.
He grabbed my hands,hold me tight,kissed my forehead,
Comforted me with the words of blessing to shine with all the sparkling shade.
I sat on his lap and talked him with beautiful smile,
I kept looking at him and became his forever for a while.
Suddenly he gets up and told me of the time to get hide,
I started crying for a face to see which would never again going to slide.
He promised me to take care of myself and not to cry,
Started leaving my hands and I make myself losing in the world of shy.
I was helpless and all my hands raised towards the sky,
He then fade up to world up so high.
Suddenly all the clouds appears and shower the water in form of rain,
Having a blessing from a heart to other again.
As the rain stops the sky get cleared,
And the sun with full smile with warmth in hands appeared.
Yet the face of that moon was as similar as him,
He was mine forever last night in my dreams.
-Jannah
Each New Year, you make a resolution,
Nothing life-changing, just minor changes.
January means a brand new start for
Optimists who wish themselves a better
Year ahead: vowing to improve their lot.
Little changes are often accomplished:
Inasmuch as they least affect your life.
For instance, eating meals at the table
Every night: not in front of the TV.
More often than not, you'll fail to honor,
Or maintain those hasty New Year's pledges.
Resolutions won't change reality:
Even if hope promises that they will.
Each New Year, we pretend to undergo
Various metamorphoses that we
Equate to achieving our New Year's goals:
Resolute in our desire to succeed.
Yesterday sets, as tomorrow rises.
Don't fret over your annoying habits:
After all, no one's perfect, and in time,
You'll learn to enjoy life more, come what may.
WATCHING OVER ME
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A soothing breeze caresses my face
softly murmuring a sweet lullaby as it slowly drifts by.
I feel the presence of my ancestors, of those I’ve loved
on their angelic, gossamer wings gently floating by.
I’m overcome with love and delicious memories
of a time past, their echoing voices only can I hear.
With glistening diamonds on my cheeks, I gaze through tear-filled eyes
silently sending them a message, “Miss you. Wish you were here.”
Then I pause, wondering “Maybe they’re near?”
I feel them in the faint, fragrant springtime breeze,
it’s awakening breath filling my soul with wisdom and bliss.
I hear them in fall’s rustling golden, crimson, and umber leaves
descending, twirling, swirling, and drifting toward the ground.
I see them in the magnificent monarch butterfly
delicate as dreams, its wings unfolding with a tender touch.
I feel their spirits in frosty morning’s dawn,
their crystal kisses on my nose and cheeks fill me with heavenly joy.
Like silvery moonbeams dancing on my skin,
these signs comfort me with their reassuring touch.
Perhaps it’s true. Maybe the angels I see
are my loved ones stopping by and watching over me.
the bar down on 5th, voices clash like dice in a cup,
old men with one eye left open, arms folded, tight,
mutter about what doesn’t matter, what will never matter—
but they walk, stumble, crawl to cast a scratch of ink.
it’s a paper with too much power, too many voices
pressed into the small, heavy hands of the damn,
of the ones who only want to be heard just once,
for their troubles, their lost lives buried under old rents,
but tonight, they grip it, like something fierce,
like holding on to a last drink, or last chance,
and they shake their heads in quiet and whisper,
“what does it change? what does it fix?”
but still, they sign that little death,
spit on the floor, pull open the door,
and walk out like they’ve got something back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At half past five, when the streetlights blinked on,
Mrs. Henderson patted her pockets—then frowned.
Her favorite scarf, the wool one with ducks,
had vanished between the bus stop and Dunk's.
She retraced her steps past the slurping snowbanks,
peered into gutters half-clogged with ice,
even asked the displeased parking meter attendant,
who shrugged and resumed his existential crisis.
Meanwhile, two blocks down, a very large crow
tugged at something blue in the branches of a spruce.
A jogger slowed, squinted upward, and called,
Hey! That’s not yours!—but the crow was no gracious goose.
It cackled, triumphant, and launched into flight,
scarf trailing like some bizarre kite tail.
Mrs. Henderson, rounding the corner, gasped,
then burst out laughing—what else to do?
The crow dropped it (finally!) near the old diner,
where it landed, quite softly, on a snowman’s neck.
The snowman, indifferent, stared straight ahead.
Mrs. Henderson sighed, tucked it in, stepped back.
Keep it, she murmured. You’ll need it more.
And the scarf stayed put—at least till the thaw.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four furry silhouettes, whiskers twitching, huddle around a cardboard grid~
Four acorn tokens clatter on the board.
Dew-damp grass stains the Baltic Avenue deed.
A whiskered snout nudges Community Chest~
Winter stores secured beneath oak bark.
Four paws grip the dice cup tight and shake.
Electric Avenue mortgaged for one nut.
Tail-flicks trace railroads, Park Place dreams
Shatter as a crow steals the top hat piece.
Four bushy strategists stare at Free Parking.
Rain begins its raid on Marvin Gardens.
The dice roll forgotten, they scatter skyward~
Squirrelopoly unfinished beneath gathering clouds.
It occurs touching a summer's eve,
when stars too timid to shine,
the moon not made its climb,
A sun had refused to leave,
Though push its way, a heavy moon,
sun made to leave its solemn hold
sprinkled stars made calm bold,
Let learn their sparkles much too soon,
Stars secret whisper articulates,
jumbled wishes that spray from below,
that fuels the kettled nighttime aglow,
Patient hearts rewards in dates,
All is ready for the gathered hearts,
stars lineup, a shooter's maze,
kiss explodes, of hearts ablaze,
Nighttime of memorable moments parts,
...reflections
2019 September 17
I am saddened to see the merciless scene daily, Doli , doli,the doli bearers shouted loudly, Pilgrims scattered like black pearls vainly, Chaos broke out among the crowd hourly,
I noticed the hardships of the bearers painfully, while the pilgrim mercilessly sat on the doli joyfully, Their neck were tightened by the heavy load dreadfully, And their hard muscled bodies ached totally,
I condemned the inhuman act vehemently,
And my kind heart melted like snow instantly, Was it good for us to ride on a human honestly?, My throat chocked and eyes shed tears visily,
Poverty pushed them to do the hard work harshly, When was the brutal work to be stopped actually?, Economic status of the labours should be enhanced cheer fully, Their work honoured and gave them respect really,
No human being should be maltreated merely, Coolies were the wonderful creation of God only, A bit of mercy made the world less cold ,highly, Treat them good as you want to to be treated ,really.