Long 2001 Poems
Long 2001 Poems. Below are the most popular long 2001 by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 2001 poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm gonna try to be the President.
A major league baseball player.
I'm gonna try to be a football star.
A big casino winner.
I'm gonna try to drag around a fire hose.
Drive a hook and ladder.
Here's a few things, I'm gonna try to be.
I'm gonna try to be a winner.
Save up all my money.
Try to live it up.
I'm only just a beginner.
I'm gonna try to be a movie star.
A motion picture actor.
Then I'm gonna live it up, in Hollywood.
Become a top ten singer.
Here's just a few things, I'm gonna try to be.
I'm gonna try to be a winner.
I'm gonna try to be a winner..
Winner-Poetry By-Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2001,2014..
All rights reserved..
Two souls searching ?
Inspired by a writing from my sixteen year old Daughter
This old man, sits in the shadows of his life’s plan,
this fading shadow, of what once was a man !,
who’s life’s colours, his aura are not but shades of gray
that come in, and seem to fill his every day.
And then, black shades he doth find
in the troubled shadows, in the mind
of his youngest, his black haired beauty,
his ever growing all knowing, big cutie
who’s mold is told, as it sets sound,
after all the rules have been laid down
for this, my dark haired child
who’s dark soul seems so wild
with rage, her soul locked in a cage,
and there seems to be no turning the page.
That book needs to be found,
her soul, her spirit set free,
to know that beautiful sound,
find inner peace, let herself be.
Escape the clutches of doom, find peace
and know just how easy it is to release,
from the deep recesses of her troubled mind,
all she looks for but never seems to find.
That place where she may set free the flames,
get out and get away from the games,
be strong my Dear, and put the fires out
with such glee, be free, and shout.
B. J. “A” 2
February 27th 2001
Lost in a strange Space
A writing by my youngest Daughter,
about a painting she had done of herself.
In honest god truth, I could not really explain,
to you all, what is going on in this painting.
What I can tell you is, the title explains a lot,
because a lot of the time, I am lost in a strange space,
that is so indescribable that I’m not going to try.
The flame I’m holding in my heart represents all
the anger and frustration I hold inside me,
in fear of letting it out, may lead to destruction of myself.
My face is black because a lot of the time
I feel I have no real appearance, just a mind.
The faint yellow around me
represents what little faith I have in my body.
If I could explain, to whom is reading this,
all of what is going on inside my mind
I would, but I can’t, and all I know,
of what is keeping me alive,
is the love I feel for a few people,
and the love they return .
By Melanie
Atfield .
Today's the darkest day we've known,
in all our days of glory...
as we say goodbye to some of our own,
a brave, heroic story.
The prayers that we've prayed,
and the dragons we've slayed,
when duty calls upon us,
are not forgotten by those left behind,
a brotherhood we trust.
What's left to say when heroes fall?
When all gave some...and some gave all.
They're heroes in a hero's dreams,
now they've made their last alarm it seems.
Through sheets of heat and walls of flame,
they knew the risks... but still they came.
To FDNY when they need it most.
Copyright © 2001
APROPOS THE WORD
(FOR MAYA ANGELOU, 2001)
There is something about the word
You give life to; a sense of
Urgency flowing from the womb
Of mind.
There is something about the way
You gather the word
Into full bosoms, nourishing legacies
Of well traveled dirt roads
Often paved with blood debts to be paid.
There is something about the way
You carry the word up and deep
Peeking through shades of his story;
Imaging life on the canvas of time
Traveling over and back across tracks;
Down to the Quarters
Where Sons and Daughters can dig deep
While they weep: filling holes in their souls.
There is something about the way
You form the word into a quick pregnancy;
Birthing life over steady black bridges;
Teaching prayers in dances of dreams;
Revealing profound simplicity only God can bestow:
That the word should be heard in ebony visions
Of timely decisions of Queen Mother Maya Angelou!
And that’s word!
The heroes ran in as others were booking out.
Those of us who are not selfless do not understand.
We watch in disbelief.
Who would run in there?
The building seemed to implode.
It was like there was a bomb placed in the middle.
Not like it had only been hit by a plane.
People jumped to their deaths. Did they die before they hit the ground?
We had our TVs on, because we were terrified.
And fascinated. But why? What is fascinating about death and sorrow?
What is fascinating about murder and suicide?
We still have many questions and not so many answers.
The twin towers. New York City, September 11th, 2001
Many heroes stepped up that day. Heroes in New York and in the sky.
Heroes took US Airline Flight 93 down,
so it could not kill more Americans.
Those who are not selfless cannot understand
Simon used to take part in motocross,
Before his bike stalled once mid-air,
When he was training on his farm land,
Which left him paralysed waist down.
He was born in 1982 on the 7th June,
And having fought back from that day,
In 2001 when he did dance with death,
He now races the Marathon T52/53/54.
He most often competes alongside Weir,
But worries about safety combinations,
Because safety issues can concern him,
And the Zika virus was a scare, quite big.
He lives in Maryport but trains in Carlisle,
At the Sheepmount Stadium to neatly chat,
With olympians Tom Farrell and Nick Miller,
Who he knows to be top athletes, class.
Dr Ian Thompson, Tanni Grey’s hubby,
Who trained this fantastic legendary idol,
Also trains Simon by propelling, pushing,
Him to muscle on further and further.
In 2015 he did brave to firmly complete,
The Great North Run, the half marathon,
When he won the silver in the T53 class,
And he works as a car mechanic by day.
We can never forget 9/11
We will forever remember such a date
A date that will live in infamy
A date that has everything in it:
Sadness, fire, death, destruction and bravery
Heroism, sickness and resilience, except happiness
9/11/2001 is a memorable and a daring date
That changed the world. Things are not seen like
The day before. We have a different perspective
About life and everything under the sun
We learn new ways of mourning, sighing
Fighting, of course new ways of being absolutely resilient
No, we will never forget this fateful day where terrorism
Became a new word. Everybody is talking about the death
Of so many brave first responders: firefighters, policemen
And many others who wear proudly their uniforms
We shall never forget 9/11. We will never forget 9/11
The sacrifices made by the brave civilians who had lost their lives
Are priceless. The eternal flame in our heart cannot be extinguished
We know that everyone in NYC and elsewhere will always
Remember how the world got shocked, stunned by these egregious
And deadly actions perpetrated by a bunch of sick cowards
9/11/2001 is a monument engrained in our brain which will live there
For a very long time. The memories of the braves are metastasized
In our psychic, no one can suppress them without killing us cold
"911" is no longer three numbers but a historic symbol like Pearl Harbor
9/11/2001 is now 18 years old.18 years of tears, fear, pain and suffering
We shall never forget 9/11. We will remember. We can never forget 9/11.
Copyright © 9/11/2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
this being
closer to what
was supposedly
really said as
not a mankind
leap but a step
for a man
not man
in general
for history
in a way they
say repeats it
self as i can be
heard breathing
heavily as i light
ly step out and off
of a plane for
my first time
on not only South
American soil but
dark coffee grind
Colombian dirt
as earth can only be
described what up
until now has been
for me seen from
a telescope
Kubrick died in ninety
nine so never saw
the real 2001 but
is said to have made
a reel of an event if
needed to be faked
so in my case in case
i don't make it
i'd like Coppola
to cast a fat
Brando as me
coughing out
cotton balls
stating so
everyone
knows this
is the real
fake
the
horror
Form:
I mean could it be any worse on this level
Trying to keep it together not lose control
Is this just a curse like the work of the devil
Perhaps it's true my spirit he has then stole
And why I always dwell, this loss of self worth
Because inside feels like this bottomless pit
As at times it dose feel like it is hell on earth
A light at the end of the tunnel, it's no longer lit
If I could only for once find some sort of heaven
Misplaced, if I'd watched where I had then trod
But would I still have this feeling of Armageddon
Looking for saving grace forever praying to god
It is that same old feeling the same old marignrol
Its like hay mister am I really ever being heard
I feel like an unsolved case, this troubled soul
I can hear a whisper but though never any word
A TROUBLED SOUL ORIGINAL IDEA BACK IN 2001 CHANGED SCAPPED SO MANY TIMES
BECAUSE DID NOT KNOW HOW TO PUT IN TO RIGHT CONTEXT STILL NOT HAPPY
WITH THIS ALSO WANTED TO MAKE FOUR VERSE RATHER THAN SIX VERSE
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
FOR EXAMPLE HELL ON EARTH IN ONE LINE SOUNEDE BETTER THAN TRYING TO MAKE TWO LINES INTO ONE VERSE
FELT LIKE TRYING TO DRAG OUT TO MUCH I DONT KNOW AN EXSTENSION OF
STATE OF MIND STATE OF CONFUSION AND SHADOW OF DOUBT MORE PERSONAL
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
PAST AND PRESENT a troubled soul written 2012 2013 by my self davidscott
this part one to a shadow of doubt....................................
You’re just watching T.V.
Then a horror you see
It’s beyond comprehension
“That can’t be … it just can’t be
Eyes should see things lovely
Not what they say that day
If we turned off the programs
Would the images … go away?
Some will never forget
The smells, the scene, that sound
Agonizing reality
Not all loved ones … would be found.
Not found, but they’re not lost
In God’s memory, they’re kept
For He has felt what you feel
And seen all the tears … you’ve wept
God understands your doubts
Your anger and your fears
Remember in the future
“He will wipe away … all tears”
Barbara Joyce Barry-Nishanian
September 11, 2001