Long 8th grade Poems
Long 8th grade Poems. Below are the most popular long 8th grade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 8th grade poems by poem length and keyword.
I usually notice bugs right away. This one was no different.
The crux was, it was walking slowly up the wall behind my computer
As I was typing and I noticed it.
A roach? Not quite. Something with wings though. Fat.
Not brown, but not tan, an in-between non-descript color.
I watched it make its way up the wall, toward the ceiling.
I smiled at its tiny little delicate black legs. It had a cute head.
It stopped walking. Maybe its heart was beating fast now, scared?
It started again, straight up to the ceiling.
I watched it walk steadily along the top of the ceiling
South to north. Not a really smart bug apparently.
It gave me incessant hope we may someday be getting spring…..
I Am a Happy Man - for Linda
Kevin Davis 2025
1
I am a very happy man.
I have seen the dawn and the sunset,
I have heard children laugh and smile,
I have known true love.
I am a very happy man.
I have tasted success,
I have risen from failure,
I have known true love.
I am a very happy man.
I have walked with good friends,
I have endured the unkind,
I have known true love.
I am a very happy man.
I have smelled the earth after rain,
I have breathed in freshly cut grass,
I have known true love.
I am a very happy man.
I have watched my children born,
I have watched them grow,
I have known true love.
I am a very happy man.
I have given laughter to the wind,
I have shared stories with the stars,
I have known true love.
I am a very happy man.
I have lived a life that sings,
I have left footprints in soft soil,
I have known true love.
I am a happy man—
A man who has known true love.
Em was a throwback to the seventies, no lie.
wearing her flower power dress, pretty to the eye.
Her white go go boots said Nancy Sinatra up and down.
She was the prettiest girl in our weird little town.
She’s the one, his grandma told him, go over and say ‘hi”.
Of course, Sammy could not do it, he was ever-loving shy.
Em found him and came over, lured by his happy face tie.
What do you do for fun? She asked. He could barely meet her eye.
His grandma took over and helped him, her name was Little Di.
He’s a pharmacist, she said ‘but he knows how to make girls cry.”
I don’t doubt that said Em, she was beautiful without any kind of try.
Luckily she and grandma figured out they both liked this shy guy.
There are goldfish swimming in the recesses of my dendrite pool.
They are flashing their tails and being ever so cool.
I am trying to ignore them, thinking they might go away.
Trixie is laughing, for they very much want to play.
Okay. I say, just for a second or two,
Then frankly, I have a bit of work to do.
The fish are sassy, funny and smart.
They laugh and include themselves in my art.
I am drawing them now as they splash and they wiggle.
They have enormous gold eyes, these fish that so giggle.
These goldfish have taken me hostage today in my mind.
I guess a poem about them would to myself be a bit kind.
So here, goldfish. Here you go, a poem about you.
I have drawn you a canvas and given you fish food too.
Here you go, goldfish. Wait. You want to be king?
There is somebody already there. Okay. You want to sing?
They are singing a song now, serenading themselves and me too.
There is nothing like goldfish, Fish One and Fish Two.
They are smiling so wide, their gills waving and flapping.
I cannot help but be amused, and now they are clapping.
I used to wish upon a Star, not knowing what to do.
Now I pray to the One who made them and my God it's You!
I no longer carry lucky charms, they don't do me any good.
I now put faith in God alone and that is where I should.
As kids we said stepping on cracks would break our mother's back.
A woman once put salt in my pocket to stop satanic attacks.
Old women in the VA kitchen said. "Don't whistle inside my child!"
And if your foot is swept with a broom, you'll be in jail a while!
There is only one solution and my child this is it!
Take ahold of that broom and into it you must "spit"
I picked up four leaf clovers to protect me on my way.
Now I pray and give thanks to God who watches over me each day!
I avoided walking under ladders to avoid any bad luck.
Now when things seem to be going wrong, I simply just look up.
Knocked on wood for protection, and things happened any way.
I now knock on the door of heaven, every time I pray.
Friday the 13th for me will no longer darken my way.
Sunday only matters now, because it's fellowship day!
There's a saying all bad things seem to come us in three's
The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is the best thing in life to me!
We lean on earthly things for protection, and it becomes a god.
But when we're sick or nearing death, to God we pray. How odd?
They were fishes swimming in the same pond, but stuck up.
There were only two of them, but they did not speak.
One was polka dotted, the other was plaid.
Too prejudiced to get to know each other.
Taught by parents who did not know how to appreciate differences.
The entire pond had no other fishes, they passed each other morning and night.
For sixty years they passed each other, neither speaking.
Died lonely, and alone on the same day, neither mourning the other.
Heaven would not let them in.
“You have to go back and learn to appreciate diversity,” they told them.
They spoke for the first time.
“I hate you,” they told each other.
Not a great start.
There's a fire starting,
Burning deep within.
Tumbling structures,
Of complex design.
Crumbling the fabric,
Of your mind.
A? reality you define,
Programs to redesign,
Morals to realign,
Balance is divine.
-?-------------
Growing our fire inside,
Flame's making their mark,
Spirit feigning its spark.
Being so connected,
While so far apart.
Coming from the heart,
We start.
Adding the fuel,
Gaining our strength,
Preparing the dual.
Each individual,
Doing their part.
-?--------------
Add your piece,
To the beast,
Together now,
Let's release,
T houghts of love,
A blaze of peace.
Filling the skies,
Silencing the cries,
Scorching evil,
From our eyes.
Realize, Energize,
The Phoenix is on the rise.
Raven Wing Faerie resting against the inside of earth’s silvery moon
Floating pixie dust dreams toward the planet, without any swoon.
Relaxed and easy, she gives confidence and hope to the dreamers.
And inspires the artists, poets, singers, and rainbow moon beamers.
Yes, I am talking about those of you who have ideas galore.
Who wake up with a smile in your heart, loveliness, and more.
Those of you who understand that others are good and sweet.
You, yes, you, the children of the world who feel nature’s beat.
You may not be aware upon waking that Raven Wing was here.
But she was sizzling your dreams with dazzling ideas so dear.
She gives of herself freely, wanting your life to be the best.
She is awake during the evening, in the day time, she’ll rest.
She comes into your mind and helps you know what to do.
She gives you super ideas, you cannot get when you’re blue.
She is super quiet about it, but she has your interests at heart.
Her inspirational wisdom helps you each day with a new start.
Raven Wing Faerie is resting on her favorite ebony raven’s wing.
It is her happiest bedding, and it makes her generous heart sing.
She likes giving happiness dreams to the schemers and dreamers.
She loves what is invented by those lively rainbow moon beamers.
The opossum is eating the cat food on the porch this morning.
I feel joy, because she has not been here for ages.
I had seen an opossum carcass on the road, and I felt badly.
Thinking it was “our” opossum.
It is not like she is a pet,
But she has visited here plenty, eating the cat food.
Sometimes next to the cat.
Weirdly enough the cat and the dog
Seem to be in alliance with this
Ugly-tailed vermin.
I researched opossums and
Discovered they are all about family.
Being good moms, and they do not fight
Choosing instead to play opossum
Which means playing dead.
They are good at this.
Maybe the one in the road was playing.
But I doubt it.
Since he no longer had a head.
Nobody plays that well.
The hen incubated its eggs for twenty -one days, She didn't know that they were her own eggs, She refused to leave the eggs for eat or drink, And she acted aggressively if she was disturbed. She pulled out of its feathers on her belly, Her warm skin directly touched the eggs, She altered the eggs that had moved away from her warmth, And she pecked at me when I came too close. One fine morning, she hatched her chicks , She thought that they belonged to her, But they were tiny troublesome ducklings, And they were nearly six in number. The ducklings had grown very fast, And they moved towards the pond , They swam joyfully in the warmed water, And still she thought that they were her own eggs. Soon she couldn't control her dirty ducklings, At dawn ,they walked fast towards the pond, And the ducklings swam in the water as usual, But the mother hen roamed on the bank of the pond. Usually ,the chicks obeyed the call of her mother, But the ducklings didn't respond to their mom, The innocent baby ducks wanted to be away from her, Still she believed that they were her own chicks.