Long 1999 Poems
Long 1999 Poems. Below are the most popular long 1999 by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 1999 poems by poem length and keyword.
Military and civilian linguists and intelligence analysts, my colleagues and I were monitoring the Balkans troubles, supporting our troops in theater 'down range'. We were working the 'Mids' shift from 11 pm till 7 am at Bad Aibling Station--formerly a military intelligence site. I had read that we were in the western European zone that would experience a total eclipse of the sun that morning. One of the other Serbo-Croatian linguists had a car on post. I voiced the thought "wouldn't it be cool if we drove out to Mount Wendelstein and saw the eclipse from up there?!". He and another agreed. After shift we drove to the base of the mountain, and decided to hike the trail to the top rather than pay to ride the cable car up. Many Bavarians had the same idea, and it was somewhat crowded on the summit. When the eclipse was finally full, it was like standing on shadowy clouds surrounded by a large ring of light--eery, bizarre, and colder than anticipated both due to the elevation and darkness. Two minutes and twenty-six seconds of totality. I had goose bumps for several reasons, and could understand why primitive man would have been so terrified of the experience. Returning back to base, we learned that it had been overcast down there; so local people only saw it get dark, but missed the actual eclipse. However, three Sergeants had been in the right place at the right time, to see the first total eclipse in Europe in forty years, and last one of the twentieth century....August 11th, 1999.
Dear Mrs. Goodwoman,
I am sad to inform you of the passing of your late Uncle Sir Rembrandt Hussleberry. He lived to the ripe age of 92, and it is his wish for you to inherit his entire fortune. Most of it is in a storage unit in southern France. You can claim it by telephoning me at 913-333-1999. Get these things ready for me. Your bank account number,
your mother’s maiden name, your birthdate, and your blood type.
I know this is an odd request, but Sir Rembrandt Hussleberry’s estate is worth 2.5 million dollars, and you are the only heir. To release it, we will need a token check from you of $5750 because that is what he owes in back taxes. It will be needed before we can write you a check for the 2.5 million. We may need additional identifying information. When you telephone us we can let you know how soon you can expect the money.
It has been a pleasure serving Sir Rembrandt Hussleberry, and it is a pleasure serving you, as his only heir, also. If you have any questions please call me at 913-333-1999.
Respectfully,
Dr. L. C. Howell, L.T.D.
Solicitor at Large
1388 Tadberry Road
London, England UK
The all-consuming, everlasting,
endearing, angering, loving, caring,
blind to the bonds of hope,
ignorant to happiness,
yet wanted, needed,
Life.
Poignant it is, for sadness is its counterpart,
yet euphoric it is, for it lies in the blithesome land,
Life.
Taken away, unfairly,
one can chant,
taken away, too early,
words be spewed,
yet, it is deaf to all remarks,
for Erebos has no mercy,
the tainted tract.
So, beg you can,
return it will not,
they say that the ardour of love is the strongest,
yet what know they,
for death takes all away.
And so, in life,
I owe the little things to myself,
the big to my brood and bruv,
and the biggest, to death itself.
For what is taken away unfairly,
brews a furious desire,
to prove them wrong,
and knowing that all shall be overcome,
with the finality of life.
So, I shall go with death,
not as enemies,
not as friends,
but as acquaintances,
who respect together,
Life.
And what I have lost,
will hurt me deep,
for the words of poetry,
will not help me remove,
the poignancy of loss.
This poem is dedicated to Alexander Technoblade (1999-2022) the person who inspired me to do things, be myself and live a better life.
Our dreams begin to open on the ninth floor
of the Marines Memorial Hotel.
Clean tombs equipped with all that is needed
for a weekend to die for.
Guests view what they can see at their level.
Flags wave from rooftops of skyscrapers,
like spring flowers praising the high winds.
Below a jungle of souls
in hypnotic allegiance flow past
concrete fields choked with roads.
Fatigued, dormant dreams weakly climb
praying to continue, to go on,
Hoping to recognize
silence as it sings a sacred invitation
to follow the fire of morning.
In our room we listen to the
television flicker between old graying movies
and a war in Kosovo.
At the window we have the luxury to turn away. . .
and witness the massacre of our afternoon.
Hail stones bullet the sunlight,
day bleeds pools of darkness.
Night falls to the light
Colors resurrected in our hearts
glow triumphant, emblazoned with life.
Who do you tell what your heart sees?
Who would believe the sound of it?
Oh Love, Oh Light--
"Please stay with us,
for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over." luke 24:29
It was 20 years ago…the year was 1999
and we thought the world would change….after Columbine
We hoped something would be done
after children were gunned down with their books
We thought the world would change…
and then came Sandy Hook
And we hoped something would be done
we can’t sit back and watch our children die…
and we thought the world would change
then came Marjorie Stoneman Douglass High…
But nothing has been done…
Today these mass murders persist
as we sadly add El Paso and Dayton to the list.
We should have learned our lesson
that was in that first mass shooting taught…
but after Columbine,
after Sandy Hook…
after Parkland…
we did not.
We like to think we are not a heartless people
although we act just like we are.
At what point do we as a nation say
this has gone too far?
So once again I pray we find a solution…?once again I pray we’re ready draw the line…
so we don’t have to wait another 20 years
after Columbine.
Over burning canefields black soot ash
on an east wind past my balustrade blows,
and big white pelicans the riverine splash
their dive pouch longbills in the shallows.
Windsurfers, sailboats, and rowers in row
pass up and down in their wake across,
and fishermen in the Cod Hole below
sit reeling in their boats off Mykonos.
Beyond my Grecian villa walls of stone
a great bridge does cross the river’s divide,
and the Maroochy water’s gentle groan
concentrates my mind ‘twixt moon and tide.
When the sun is low and the moon high
fly a plague of bats just passing through -
sipping a wee tincture of scotch in my dry
puffing a wee willem on the avenue.
Girl, like The Iliad it’s all Greek to me
and soon a new life and bridge to cross,
but before the two of us become three
I write my postcard from Mykonos.
Beyond my Grecian villa walls of stone
a great bridge does cross the river’s divide,
and the Maroochy water’s gentle groan
concentrates my mind ‘twixt moon and tide
Written: October 1999
Dear soup friends,
There’s no poem this morning; living in central Oklahoma is too sad and painful.
Any death is one too many, especially when innocent children are the victims. It’s almost more than the soul can bear, especially for those who have lost their families. Homes can be rebuilt, lost possessions replaced or forgotten, but not the lives of those held dear.
Ten miles south of total devastation, I am safe with my family, our lives not destroyed by a random yet ordinary natural event in Oklahoma, the third in the same area since 1999. I ask for your kind thoughts and remembrance as we struggle through the aftermath of nature’s wrath yet again.
Jack Jordan
The absolute ultimate star of the show is here today,
And ready to go, so sit down, please stay.
She has words to say, a lot to impart.
So get ready, for she speaks from her heart.
She is in a wheelchair, has been since 1999.
Her life was changed that day, in a way un-sublime.
She was thrown out of a moving car, herself to blame.
Her back promptly snapped, her life never the same.
I wish I had worn my seatbelt, she told us all, with strife.
An easy fix that would have saved her this different kind of life.
She is at others’ mercy to get out of bed, has been since 1999.
She said she has a completely different kind of life, a harder kind.
The children were fascinated, as they heard her story, that dear.
There was barely a peep, and there were over a hundred and twenty in here.
The star and another lady showed them a film, and explained more too.
They begged these children to wear seatbelts, no matter what they do.
They did a great job, these presenters, these two.
They scared us all a bit, for that is what they do.
Their program is called Think First, these women who care.
They come for free, and they do a great job. Our children did stare.
We left that room, thinking loud and clear.
We left that room, all feeling life is a little more dear.
She said she was lucky, the star of the show.
But we were the lucky ones, now, and we know….
Glitches of A Broken System
Ongoing support fiber with the Universe.
Ticket #001: Common Sense
Status: Depreciated since 1999
User: Common Sense won't boot up in group settings.
Tech: We replaced that feature with " Comment Section "
Workaround: Nod slowly and back away
Ðo? not feed the trolls. Ticket Closed
Ticket #404 The Middle Class I submitted a ticket to the Universe last Tuesday.
Subject line: Existence.exe keeps crashing at rent.
Tech: " Have you tried being born to different parents?".
Clear your cache of dreams and restart your bootstrap, upgrade to Premium Reality.
Note" Premium not available in Zipcode 12345
Ticket#503: Healthcare
User: " I clicked "see doctor" and got an error " Insurance not found.
Tech: " That's a feature, not a bug. Please
Sacrifice 3 chickens and 1 deductible to continue.
Estimated wait time: Your whole life
Ticket #006: Climate
User: Planet. Earth is overheating. Urgent!!!
Tech: Did you try turning it off and on again?
We recommend recycling. Have a nice day.
Auto-closed due to inactivity.
A talented man has died and he's gone for eternity.
Prentis Hancock has died at the age of eighty-three.
This great man came into this world in 1942.
He starred in "Space: 1999" and "Doctor Who".
Millions are mourning because his life came to an end.
They are all sorry because they will never see him again.
He was a very important member of the Human Race.
It's sad to know that he's dead and can't be replaced.
When I say he went to Heaven, it's something I'm certain of.
All of his fans are saying goodbye to this man who they love.
[Dedicated to Prentis Hancock (1942-2025) who died on May 30, 2025]