Long About me Poems
Long About me Poems. Below are the most popular long About me by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long About me poems by poem length and keyword.
What do you see in the picture below
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Perhaps a seed, being planted in man’s mind?
Perhaps a Big Bang in the dot, you’ll try find?
Perhaps a fly in the soup, being one of a kind?
Perhaps a dark sonnet, written for the blind?
Perhaps a remnant from a blog, you left behind?
But enough about me
I know what I am
Temet nosce
that is the question
By
David Kavanagh
Don’t want be bother with you
I see you got to see got a lot to say
Why don’t we start of with lies you been spreading about me
Don’t be surprise if I escorted you out this conversation
Don’t see it don’t pertain to you
Please see your way out this conversation because it does not pertain to you
About flip the script
Get rid *****
that be talking all that ****
Trick treat
No helping hand
You didn’t think I was
not going find out you was a snatch
You should be lynch
For talking mess about me and the crew
Please Please Please
Stay out of my business
This is Abc conversation see your way out of it
Don’t let words hit you on the way out
please see your way out it
I glad you want to voice
your opinion
Freedom of speech
You going to set a appointment to voice your opinion
Yeah Yeah
But this conversation that I having
does not pertains to you
It don't pertains to you
Play a sad song
Reminisce on the good times
I remember when you join the crew
I remember how loyal
Now you just cut your own self.
Blah blah blah in and out one ear another
I am not trying to hear what you got say.
It just don't pertain to you
Do you want to know why this
conversation does not pertains to you….
The Tortured Poets Department has a writer's division that has to approve every poem before it goes out
And my mind is tired of being held hostage
A loose-leaf definition of writer's block was once defined by the utter of: I don't feel like writing, this isn't good enough, my hand only works for the remote today
Then she interrupts my train of thought to ask: why have you never wrote a poem about me
It's not that I haven't
There are 100s getting as comfortable as you can be in the waste basket
The last poem I Kobe shot, Melo made, and Curry posed to the trash can started like this:
An eye lash is trying to make your cheek more than just a Sunday service sanctuary
It wants a home
I know you'd like me to remove it
But who am I to destroy a home
I can't help but think how beautiful you look with that eye lash
As it rests there like a pair of doves flirting on a branch not far away from me
What are you starring at, she exclaims
Oh, nothing I reply, today I'll let the eye lash remain
On
Your rosy cheeks, kissed by my dead rose petal lips
Reminding you of the time we went camping and you hated that you smelled the outside
You hated that you smelled like outside
And I kept teasing you but hiking, visualizing, and tenting next to nature is maybe the closest thing to
Falling asleep to your beautiful
Falling asleep to your beautiful
Falling asleep to your gorgeous
Ugh, I can never find the right words to describe a tenth of your gorgeous
And it makes me want to drop dead out of frustration
Because the writers need to feel exactly what I do when they read:
Holding her hand is to get a glimpse of forever before I die
Holding her makes my heart resemble the flight of a butterfly
Holding her hand is to hold my battles in the palm of my hand and make them cry
The writers consist of a delicious various assortment of personality; often referred to as me, myself, and I
Every time I get ready to seal this poem to you the writer’s block me from letting you receive it
p.s. I haven't learned to love myself enough to love you...
What Am I
April 22, 2019
RobertBenThoughts.Blogspot.com
You heard the birds
as they sing outside.
They are not alone
You can see me from inside.
What am I?
I love being there
In the still of the morn.
You miss my beauty and
I feel forlorn.
What am I?
The sun shines on me
It feels so good,
Come share with me
I get lonely too.
What am I?
You cannot get around me
But I’ll let you through.
It will soon be over
Look for the blue.
What am I?
Made a movie about me
So long ago,
It wasn’t nice and
Was so untrue.
What am I?
Best view of me
Is from mountain top high.
You look down on me,
My beauty you can’t deny.
What am I?
Enjoy me for now
As the sun won’t let me lay.
Don’t worry my friends
I’ll be back another day.
I am the Fog.
And I would be twenty in a month
with the confidence that I had the world to explore.
I could see the horizon out in the beyond
and time was most assuredly my ally.
It was a time of opportunities ripe for
expanding my imagination and unfurling my wings.
Youth was this verdant time of potential
and I felt like a magician's apprentice.
I remember the sun and how it shone on my shoulders,
how it would make everything glitter around and about me.
But mostly I remember how I'd look up and the warmth
of the summer sun would kiss my face as if I was blessed.
I remember the endlessly lazy dreamy summers,
how they were full of whimsy as if they'd go on forever.
But soon enough, summer would ripen to golden days of september
and I was nineteen, the carpet of my future unrolling ...
AP: Honorable Mention 2023, Honorable Mention 2023
The sergeant volunteered me for guard this cold and moonless night.
I was rushed to the front as a new replacement addin' to my plight.
I don't even know the sergeant's name and I doubt that he knows mine.
The only friend I have is my rifle as I stand guard along the Rhine.
The snow keeps pilin' up and my foxhole is damp and cold.
If the enemy overruns my position I'm not to surrender I was told.
Great chance I have with my rifle to fend off a charge by Tiger tanks!
But in the army you do what you're told when in the lowly ranks!
If the Hun crosses no-man's land and we are suddenly attacked,
I sure do hope I don't let my buddies down and fail to react.
Lord, I pray for courage as about me bullets and bombs assail.
Can I kill or maim another man? Lord, I pray Thy mercy will prevail!
I'm so cold and hungry - how I long for a boilin' cup of joe.
I ain't had a hot meal for nigh on a week since I left Bordeaux.
My feet and hands are ice - I ain't slept for about three days.
Like an old veteran, already I'm developin' that thousand-yard gaze.
It's a danged good thing I ain't runnin' this doggone war.
I'd put them politicians on the line - I bet there'd be no more gore!
I just hope I can survive this army life and get back to the farm.
Shucks! I'm a peaceful feller and don't mean no one any harm!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I was asked to speak at a funeral
Shocking
As I barely knew the departed soul
Had dinner with her once many years ago
Always thought about doing it again, but never made the time.
Hardly remembered her.
Her daughter was distraught; she was the one who asked.
I was cornered, and I knew it.
So I said yes.
Three showed up at the funeral, and the daughter.
I spoke about the lunch we had had, the light in her eyes,
Her laughter, how funny she was outside the office.
I said I wish I had made more time for her.
The other two spoke about our lunch too.
Told me how much she talked about it, how delighted it had made her.
They barely knew her, although both had worked with her longer than I.
I was her best friend; she talked about me incessantly after that lunch.
Her daughter gave me a long hug before we parted, saying how
Glad she was that I had been there for her mom, when she could not be.
Thanked me over and over.
Pretty like her mother.
Made me feel even worse
Only one lunch to you
Might make a world of difference to someone else.
When everything about me still thrives,
And everything is a sight for sore eyes,
I'm thankful for my sense of SIGHT.
When noise abounds with the hearing of sounds,
because my eardrums are enough to Astone,
I'm grateful for my sense of HEARING.
When never taking for granted a savory taste,
And as Jesus said, let nothing go to waste,
I'm thankful for my sense of TASTE.
When my bride is baking with sweet working labor,
And overwhelming me with smells of succulent flavors,
I'm grateful for my sense of SMELL.
I bow my knees and heart when I feel that loving touch,
And when I realize that I have been blessed with so much,
I'm thankful for my sense of TOUCH.
082023PS
All of the name-callings, the talked about in a secret way
In the past in those days
I forgive you.
The times where the truth turned to a lie
Pretending to like me in disguise
I forgive you.
The times when the words were so deep
The anger lashing out rapidly, laying stones at my feet
I forgive you.
The times when I thought you had my back
Never to find out it was just a payback
For whatever reason, I could not see
Throwing hints and talking about me
I forgive you.
The smiles and pretending that I was so special
Only to find out that I was only guessing
I forgive you.
I forgive you, I've forgiven you
I have been forgiven.
All of the hurt and the slashing of my name
The people that tormented me, trying to put me to shame
Calling out and trying to destroy my name
What a shame
I still forgive you.
Why is it that I am, or was the center of the attention
Is it because I have so much recognition? And, or potential?
Needed someone to pick on to feel great about you?
So, this is what you've accomplished, with all the hurt and pain
That you do.
I forgave you
I prayed for you
Enemies come in bunches
Friends are few around
The harsh words did not break me down.
THE CENTER OF THE ATTENTION
THE SPOTLIGHT SHINING BRIGHT
HEALING FOR MY SOUL
IN THE MID-DAY AND NIGHT
I AM STILL HERE
STRONGER AND WISER THAN EVER BEFORE
THANK YOU FOR PAIN
FOREVERMORE. I AM ADORED.
GOD KNOWS OUR HEART
GIVEN CHANCE AFTER CHANCES
PRAISES TO GOD, WITH A SHOUT AND DANCE.
FORGIVE EACH OTHER
FOR WHATEVER REASON IT MIGHT BE
DO NOT HOLD IT IN
BETTER OUT THAN IN, YOU'LL SEE.
FORGIVEN. FORGAVE.
A BEAUTIFUL SCENERY IS MADE.
A Special Note
If you are that someone that is always being talked about, and you are chosen out of the bunch. Maybe it is something special in you that one might see. In a family setting, on your job, or at a meeting, or in school. Keep on doing great. Forgive them. Healing is for your soul.
The person that hurt you will one day realize that it wasn't you, maybe It was them needing clarification. It could be jealousy, envy, or some other issue. Make a difference. Be kind. Vengeance is mine saith the Lord; Be true to you.
Rise above all foolishness. Talk to a trusted genuine one. Ask God to guide you. Through it all, this to shall pass.
I'm so in to you .....how do I get through to you
I want you so bad ....its driving me mad
But then I think to myself
I want this to last ......cause you the best I've ever met.....and I don't want to ruin this just yet.....cause the feeling I get with you is bliss.,.,,,,,,,you just know when its the one......those days of frustration and loneliness just fade away and just seem to be all of a sudden done.....those days when nothing seems to go right.....and all those empty nights....just disappear when ever you are near.
I'm sorry I have doubt ....I'm feeling the strain
This is so hard on my brain...feels like I'm going insane
But sitting with you makes it all worthwhile
Isn't obvious I want to be with you
I love to see you smile...it makes my life worthwhile
I'm so into you.......how do I get through...to you...i want you so bad...its driving me mad.......you just know .when its the one......those days of frustration and loneliness just fade away and just seem to be all of a sudden done.....those days when nothing seems to go right.....and all those empty nights....just disappear when ever you are near
It feels so right when were together....and I don't think things can get better....but then you smile at me and that gets me .....and that's what gets me through the day......making everything ok.......when I see your eyes...it makes me melt.. .never mind what's going on below my belt......i only hope that you feel the same way about me ......that would be the star on my Christmas tree you just know when its the one......those days of frustration and loneliness just fade away and just seem to be all of a sudden done.....those days when nothing seems to go right.....and all those empty nights....just disappear when ever you are near