Long Actual Poems

Long Actual Poems. Below are the most popular long Actual by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Actual poems by poem length and keyword.


Whats the Difference Between Me and You

I didn’t grow up trying to better anyone 
but I bettered the bitter and discovered haters one by one 
turns out it’s a lonely place when you’re the champion 
everybody wants a piece everyday on repeat 
you see them looking at you with the envy in their eyes 
because I worked out while they sat eating all the pies 
the effort and the discipline continuous developing 
playing sport and at the gym 
while they weren’t doing anything 
they think that I was born athletic lucky genes they say 
while they watch tv smoke and laze lacking energy each day 
hours they spend dreaming about glory and achieving what they ain’t
while I compete in competition hard work starts to pay 
living dreams the actual scenes and getting lots of praise 
while no one ever notices the ones dreaming they are great 
desperate for attention they start to label you that way 
I don’t want attention I enjoy the sports I play 
they look for ways they better you in any category 
and then they talk aloud about it most assuredly 
making sure that people know until they all agree 
they’ve finally found the sweet spot they’ve found a victory 
but then you go and win something and all the people see 
then everybody talks about it and you are centre scene 
and this just grows the hate resentment and the jealously 
so now they will compete with you every possibility 
behaviour fuelled by envy and it’s obvious to me 
if you are lazy you’ll grow bitter and be a nobody 
and you’ll become an empty shell who dreams they do achieve 
desperate to be noticed by the whole community 
and you will have to tell yourself just how great you are 
over time you will believe it and see yourself a star 
but that is called delusion you’re not who you think you are 
becoming confident and cocky a reality apart 
your happy days will be the days others suffer hard 
you’ll kick them down and dance around and talk to them real harsh
entitled lazy liar horrid no empathy or heart 
and this is how you will achieve as the narcissist you are 
all because you sat and dreamed and smoked and drank the bar listening to winning stories of those held in high regard 
and as your ego disappears amongst the mental scars 
you’ll be wishing you were someone else hating who you
saying lots of nasty to people so high up above you
while they can’t even hear you they just laugh and shoulder shrug you
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Bat Crazy 5



"Bat Crazy 5"


Some say

she was batsh** crazy
life hits the windscreens 
in the labyrinth of life
that way

the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand 
holding hard-gripped the gear stick

an upwards inflection, “You know”,
in the Queen’s Land, "all under control"
the open palm under the shaft
moving all the way up to 5, 

reflecting on the mirror rearview
she watches the eyes
of her child
dreaming of open highways

the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick

never once moving from 5 
the left all the way up to targa 5
right hand up on the wheel
left hand down right up to 5

windows spitting emeralds
like a baphomet 
the two finger salute
the other above so below

watches on

"here we go again",
the 1 above it all 
watches on 
as above so below

that 1's long-suffering 
that way, aghast, but resolute, 
that 1 has never-ending reserves 
of eternal patience

and watches on 
perplexed

her mind geared on 
how to kill off 
a spider 
and his sister, next

changing lanes
easier said than done
when you're hell-bent on 
Freedom

the highway sign 
Happy New Year 
flashes ever onwards by, 
foot to the floor 

left brain baffled
at forgiveness
at Christmas 
long gone by 

right hand on the wheel
left hand down 
open palmed 
shifting gears 

accelerating increduality
towards the accuracy 
in the justice of karma 
drivers sitting on both shoulders

inside the vehicle 
holding the wheel
the internal speaks
to the universe 

listening 
for kindness 
and answers
on a lost highway

Blue Sky 
nods, as if in agreement,
that 1's always amused -
but never confused, that way

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)






“Is it possible to switch dimensions? 

There is currently no conceivable way to get to these if they exist, and they may only be possible, not actual. To travel between realities, they need to be in proximity. To be in proximity and not interact, they need to be incompatible. If it is a compatible universe you could travel to, it is already here.” 



"Won’t you let me know, 
if you made it home that night
Oh won’t you let me know
If our bones made it home alright..."
Form: Narrative

Mathew 6: 12-13

"mathew" 6: 12-13
“and forgive us our debts”
(not only does a sheep get 3 squares a day,
but it is also believed that if one begs the
sky enough, one’s problems will just
wash away---this is to be the subsequent
consequence of ALL humans following
suit & getting down on four legs, growing
their thick coats & chewing grass)

“as we forgive our debtors”
(as the sheep thinking that their problems
are solved by an imaginary listener in
an imaginary trailer park in the sky,
so do the sheep continue grazing with a
sort of “live and let live” mentality,
until they are picked off by hunters)

“and do not lead us into temptation”
(so, the same imaginary listener who resides
in that imaginary trailer park, who seemed
to be the one that all the sheep were
comfortably baaaaa-ing to, now is
something to be feared as well?  perhaps
that which one feels the need to submit
the whole of their will to is the same
corrupted core inside that would come up
with such a ridiculous hoax to begin with,
as found in the schizophrenic comment
here in the command to oneself (a baaaaa
into the mirror, if you will)
 
“but deliver us from the evil one”
(the EVIL ONE?  is not the concept of
evil just that which goes against the
simultaneous baaaaa of the herd in the
grassy field?  was not the GOOD ONE
just told in the last line to “not lead us
into temptation,” thereby being the only
“one” which can do so?  make sure when
getting the ladle of kool-aid dumped into
your dixie cup, that you ask if said
dumper is EVIL or GOOD…certainly at
that point it will make all the difference in
the world)
 
“for yours is the kingdom and the power
and the glory forever”
(there is no other imaginary listener, whose
two-faced multiple personalities, residing in
an imaginary trailer park in the sky, handing
out its ladles of kool-aid, whose overwhelming
passion could be heard any louder than that
which dwells within the very heads of the
already brainwashed sheep baaaaa-ing out
the rest of their days, dissatisfied with the
actual physical world around them &
waiting for the end of what they deem as
a great big thorn in their side---that is,
the rest of us who are not convinced, and
who are not baaaaa-ing with the rest of
em’)

“amen”
(right there, in a nutshell, the whole lie
itself was conjured up by “a man,” or
a few men---all who had way too much
time on their hands & a rather limited
imagination).

Ve Day In Italy

I remember it as if were yesterday
VE Day...well, not exactly
but, close enough for me
The actual surrender of Italy
May 2, 1945....but the damn Americans
Always the Americans wanted May 8
So, it's May 8th, but I'll always remember the second
We were in Milan...I love Milan
Hitler was dead, Mussolini was dead
I was alive, and in Milan
Rumours were out that the war in Europe was almost done
Nobody had told the Gerry's that though
Word came from Lubeck that they'd surrendered
I was twenty one years old, going on 50
War ages you...and not in a good way
I was in 6th Airborne and ready to go back
When the word came down
I remember kissing the waitress at our cafe
I kissed her hard, and with as much passion as a 21 yr. old can have
I didn't want to let her go
It was over
I kissed her for myself, and everyone in Milan
I kissed her for my folks in Clapham
I kissed her for her folks, wherever they were
I kissed her because we were free, they were free
I kissed her for my Uncle, who we lost early in 1941
Lost him during the blitz in London
England lost 430 people, we lost Uncle Cyril
That was enough, I was signing up
Now, it was over and I was moving on
I kissed her for everyone still waiting for the news
But, most of all, I kissed her for Leslie Testro, Rfn (18yrs)
Lance Cpl Thomas Wray (22 yrs), Lt. Dennis Edmonds (21 yrs)
and all the others attached to 6th Airborne
Who wouldn't know it was Victory in Italy
They were lost, not forgotten, never forgotten
Forever in our minds, our roll of honour
We celebrate them annualy
Few of us left now, but, those that are
go back to Italy every two or three years
back to Milan, and we toast them all
My waitress, Rosa Testrini
She was there as well, every year
Until five years back, we lost her
Now we toast her as well
We all have our honour roll
She was on mine
I found her again in 1950
We were on our second trip back
She met my wife, and I her husband
He's still there, and we talk
My Italian is better than his English
But, we talk as well as we can
I miss her, and the others
But that day, that glorious day in May
I've never kissed like that since
And my wife knows it
Sometimes she reminds me...
I laugh, and remind her....
What that day means...if it hadn't happened
We may not be kissing now
so, she'll never get that kiss
Only Rosa
Rest In Peace my waitress

Until Blood Is Spilt

when one stands up against injustice
when one spits in the face of those that oppress &
shows not one ounce of fear in their eyes
often, if fortunate, standing amidst others who have come to
the same conclusion,
at first, it is like a joke being told at a comedy club
where there isn’t even a drink minimum---
for the need for customers is so drastic,
the club doesn’t want to ruffle any feathers by 
asking at least that as a price for sitting all night 
under a roof & listening to comedy.

as the plague of convention
spreads like the contagion that it so blatantly is,
more come to the conclusion of the initially brave
(and to many, thought to be the initially “insane”)---
people begin to see that things are being done wrong to them
as well,
and suddenly, because others have already put their lives on the line
in order to lock arms & fight
what they no longer think can be ignored,
this kindling gives way to a larger fire 
which soon spreads on its own,
counteracting the wall of poisonous status-quo, complacence &
all out submission to the will of those that
feel that they are unstoppable,
offering not a crumb to the individuals challenging them &
still, the seriousness of the matter is not fully understood
by those which have become desensitized to any possibility of
actual change in their lifetime.

as the fire continues to grow & spread, becoming fiercer with 
every gust of wind, ever new addition to the flames,
those that felt unstoppable begin to question their own ability 
to crush the fire, 
if they deem it out of hand,
that is, if their kingdom is on the fringe of being
invaded---
and it will come,
the bludgeoning of the spreading fire will be one of never before seen
ferocity,
for examples have to be made,
in order for those in power to prove that they still have power &
blood will be spilt, in fact, 
blood is being spilt as this writer types
(little puddles now, written off as “unruly dissidents,” only foreshadowing a river of blood leading to a vast ocean).

it is the spilling of blood which ignites the last few,
those that thought it would all blow over & 
that their lives could stay pretty much the same,
if they just stuck it out---
when friends, relatives and neighbors begin to bleed,
be it through destruction of property, incarceration, injury or death,
the once comfortable are forced to open their eyes &
decide which side they're on.


Premium Member POLICE INTERRUPT WEDDING


Her eyes a sapphire blue,
An awesome sight to view,
Her nose aristocratic,
She was so charismatic,
Her lips a rosy petal pink,
One had to blink,
Or been seen as staring,
Her nature a sheer blessing.

Her hair pure black like coal,
Her ears so dainty as if she stole
Them from a pretty fairy,
Her friendly attitude quite flirty,
Her peeking bosoms such a tease,
Begging for a squeeze,
Her tantalizing always alluring waistline,
Her demure look whilst sipping wine,

Her legs, toned and smooth,
The actual truth,
Those legs were the best in town,
Caire lived in a cottage down
The hill, her ankles slim and slender,
Her speaking tone ever so tender,
Her teeth pearly white,
Her nails and toe-nails bright
Red, wrists strong, fingers slight.

She was betrothed to the mayor,
Was this beautiful girl Caire,
To be married next week,
By a sandy beach near a sheltered creek,
Excitement was mounting,
Two days to go, she was counting,
Claire had ordered a Dior designed dress,
This was the perfect wedding, oh yes!

Her parents arrived the day before,
They were excited wanted to explore,
Mark’s parents acted a little strange,
There was never any form of exchange,
Of phone calls, no answer to a wedding invitation,
Future husband gave Clair limited information,
She looked radiant as she walked down the aisle,
She turned everybody’s head, unique was her style.

Happy as a lark to be her beloved’s wife,
She looked forward to her future role in life,
Suddenly, police sirens heard,
The noise moving closer, how weird,
Two cars arrived and, four or five policemen,
Walked towards the couple, in fact ten,
Cuffed her future husband, read him his rights,
Clair fainted, Mark was a criminal, many nights
She often thought he was too secretive,
Which made her sad, certainly not appreciative,
Claire dear girl, you forgot, habits are difficult to re-arrange,
Mark was set in his ways, so hard for you to have him change.



Mark was wanted for fraud, millions of pounds
Involved, had cooked the books, so out of bounds,
Claire's mom and dad put her gently into their car,
And took her to their home which was far,
Claire took some time to get past this catastrophe,
Over a man she loved and about to relinquish her chastity,
Ralph a divorced writer was her parent’s neighbour,
Who soon stole Clare’s heart and her chamber!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Monoku Monday - June 2021

"Give Me Your Tired"   posted 7 Jun 2021

i'd join the morning person's club     except their meetings start before noon

early to bed, early to rise     makes a man healthy, wealthy, and beat

they make clocks to tell me when to get up      i need one to tell me why

a bicycle cannot stand up by itself      because it is two-tired

my wife got tired of hearing my zodiak puns     it taurus apart

teen's concept of an early bird:      one who wakes up at the break of noon

[humor attribution - all humor found online, sources unknown]


"Just Asking (part III)"   posted 14 Jun 2021

wow, is that an optical illusion      or am I just seeing things?

why does the sun on the raisin bran cereal box      wear sunglasses?

why are wise men and wise guys      considered opposites of each other?

when styrofoam companies ship their product      what do they pack it in?

if swimming is so great for the figure      then how do you explain whales?

how does the person who drives the snowplow      get to work in the morning?

[humor attribution - all humor found online, sources unknown]


"It's All In A Name"   posted 21 Jun 2021

i visited a new dating website in Prague      they call it ~ Czech Mate ~

there's a new contraceptive on the market      it's called ~ i kid you not ~

my vote for the best beauty parlor name of all time    ~ curl up and dye ~

good name for an ultra-conservative fashion boutique      ~ clothes minded ~

maybe you shouldn't name your brand new restaurant      ~ eater's digest ~

perhaps this plumbing company is worth a gamble     ~flush or full house~

[humor attribution: #2 and #5 Edmo Snord, #3 and #6 are actual company names I've seen, others found online of unknown origin]


"Random Brain Guano (part III)"   posted 28 Jun 2021

children are hereditary      if your folks had none, neither will you

the best remedy for your bad memory      is milk of amnesia

buy your valentine a bikini      it's the least you can do for her

i tried making a belt out of watches      it was a big waist of time

my toddler kept chewing on electrical cords      so I grounded him

sometimes Bigfoot is confused with Sasquatch      Yeti doesn't seem to mind
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Monoku

Save Our Youth

Teachers and Faculty care less and less about students every year
If u aren't the favorite don't expect caring
Ur parents have to bring cookies to the bake sale
Teachers have our children's life in their hands
Take some responsibility
One on one communication goes a long way
Drop knowledge whenever u can
Whether it be elementary, Watson
Or High School High and u don't Lovitz
As Teachers pass kids in hallways and treat them like people u pass on the sidewalk
Unless they r causing trouble
Then they get attention
Positive reinforcement, don't u know!?
Pay them no mind if they r quiet and have a 2.8 GPA or higher
The only time the schools contact parents is if something is wrong
Or if the child met their criteria for acknoledgement 
Teaching children used to be a calling
Now it is just a job
Just a young persons misguided career path
Being forced to say what they want to be when they grow up
Our youth has potential if we pay attention
Dropout rates and political red tape
Underpaid teacher and staff
State Lottery does not do what our government said it would do
Lower case because it is not important
State Lottery is supposedly there to help our schools and fix our roads
Yet to see that actually help either situation in Michigan
Other states may be different
In some states a school is a business, Owned by a corporation
Turning a profit
Is being a Teacher actually a Customer Service job?
Small Towns get overlooked as our Youth passes through the interent router
Spoken word is too much effort
A teacher's eyes glued to a screen
Right along with the child they r supposed to be teaching
Children cannot speak for themselves
Parents have the responsibility to be their voice
The voice of the voiceless
Politicians and public relations speak of "we"
There is no "I" in "Team"
Teaching our youth to not be selfish and to share
But if they r only thinking of others who is left to think about them
The coach's team has a winning season
2 kids sit on the bench the whole season
No hopes of actually playing
The "team" wins the Championship
Wearing the same shirt doesn't make u a "team"
When asked why the kids didn't play all season
School said the coach's job was based on wins
If the kids wanted to have more game time, they should be better at the game
Actual Events leading to this piece of literature
Save our Youth

Premium Member The Star Spangle Banner

History of the Star Spangle Banner
 Maybe idea of Major George Armistead
  The glory of Americans who scan her
   Of Mary Pickersgill she was begat

   The creation of the original flag
  Be still a subject highly debated
 Mary Pickersgill was not one to brag
Old Glory she made, beauty wind inflated

Armistead first requested it to be
 A large garrison flag for reason
  So the British have no trouble to see
   Good to see our flag has flown in season 

   Fifteen colonies equal fifteen stars
  Having eight red stripes and seven white stripes
 Red and white stripes run in parallel bars
She flows in glory apart from other types

Rumor has it two glories were first made
 For a small and a large Mary did charge
  A document exists a bill was paid
   Though small one be lost or is still at large

   The  varied small Star Spangled Banner
  Never made it home to the Smithsonian
 Would be nice to see displayed in some manner
In national museum the large is on loan!

For Contest Dazzle us with History
 For Carolyn Devonshire and James Frazer

The History of the Real Star Spangled Banner

The creation of the original flag is still a debated subject. 
However, the general story accepted by most historians is that Mary
Pickersgill was commissioned to make the flag by Major George Armistead
for $405.90. Following the victory at Fort McHenry, the flag was preserved
by Col. Armistead and it remained in the Armistead family. A smaller one
which was flown during the actual battle, and a larger one that was
flown as a replacement immediately after the British retreat. 
This was a common wartime practice of the period.While no one
can say for sure what really happened, documents exist that show that
Mary Pickersgill was paid for two separate flags, a small one and
a larger one. If the smaller flag exists, its whereabouts are unknown.
In 1907, George Armistead’s grandson, Eben Appleton, expressed
interest in donating the flag to the state of Maryland or to the city of
Baltimore. After discussions with Maryland’s governor and the Mayor of
Baltimore, Appleton eventually placed the flag on loan to Smithsonian Institution
and it was displayed in the Hall of History at the National Museum of American
History. The loan was converted to a gift in 1912 and can still be
seen at the National Museum in Washington, D.C.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Growing Pains

12 years ago,  after 38 years removed from where I was known,                                                                           I went back to the area where I was born, to the place where
the basic things of life to me were taught and shown.                                                                                                        Not to the actual town, because it was mostly gone.
Not to the actual house, because it too was all gone.
But to the county seat, said to be the home of the blues.                                                                                           

Truth be told, I never felt at home there anyway.
It was a real challenge just finding places to play,                                                                                                                Always being told to stay inside the box where we belonged.
As mortals grow, we learn to utilize both thermometers                                                                                                 And thermostats so as to not only measure their surroundings
But also to set in place mechanisms to adjust those same surroundings.                                                                  

So, growing up, I was boxed in, and mine was really just a place to work    And stay, where childhood fun was 'shooting marbles' or playing in the hay.                                                                                                               But even then, we had no say but still longed for a better day.
Growing up, I was well behaved, never causing trouble,                                                                                                 Nor did I make any attempts to burst anyone bubble.

If one had dreams, they had to guard them dearly, prayerfully.                                                                      Otherwise, they would turn into nightmares or get blown away with the wind.
It's been said that home is where your story begins, which sounds like a God-Send, but I say that home is a place like no other place that you wish would Never end.

In a real sense, over time, I was shielded from the pain of all those things, the good, the bad, and the ugly, that went away, and blessed by God with so many other things with which I have been warmly embraced.

110520PS
Form: Narrative

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