Long After a while Poems
Long After a while Poems. Below are the most popular long After a while by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long After a while poems by poem length and keyword.
10/10/2019
I tried to write today, but I couldn’t manage it.
You see, there’s a speck of dirt stuck to the paper.
I tried not to let it get to me, but to no avail,
And had already begun trying to get it off.
Scratching at it was no use, I couldn’t get under the thing.
And washing a paper would defeat the purpose.
It seemed impossible to pry off.
I can’t live with it in my sight, yet can’t throw it away.
I’ll have to take my mind off it somehow,
So I can rest easy tonight.
Just the thought of it will haunt me.
Tomorrow I can write again.
10/11/2019
I got another piece of paper today,
And had managed to get the speck out of my head,
Just long enough to get some thoughts out.
But something else is bothering me.
Now that I think about it, I can’t stop myself.
All the abnormalities of the patterns on the wall,
The crumbs on the desk,
Even the nearly invisible creases in this paper.
I need to get out a bit more,
There’s no way I can function like this.
I can talk more when I’ve dealt with this,
But for now this is all I can think about.
10/12/2019
I couldn’t go to sleep last night.
I had turned on the fan in my room,
But its spinning motion had fascinated me.
The quink motion blurs it together,
But if you focus on a single blade, following it,
It starts to become clear.
After a while I decided to get up.
There was nothing to do, but anything was better
Then staring at the cursed fan.
I found a rubber wall stick toy, molded into the shape of a dragon.
My brother probably got it from a teacher.
After spending the rest of the night trying to keep the wings apart,
I passed out.
10/13/2019
I can’t stay in this house,
The abundance of dust has only become more clear.
My brain won’t rest and I’m seeing things I haven’t before.
The edges of my nails that are begging to be cut,
The imperfections in the palms of my hands,
The papers not all in a straight pile,
The lines of my handwriting inhabiting them,
The dust scattered over the tables,
And the finger marks breaking the unity.
My head is spinning
And I can’t make it stop.
Round and round the ceiling goes.
10/14/2019
Ah, the beauty of sleep medicine.
I finally had a good night’s rest,
And I think I have an idea on what to write about.
Until next time, Journal.
And please, deal with the erase marks,
I need a break.
-Connor Lotts
I am almost seventeen years old,
It is almost summer, and
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off...
I tell him I don't want sex.
I wonder if this will be like
The time-
I am sixteen years old;
It's cold outside but
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off-
He asks me if I want
To have sex...
When I say no, he tells me
It's okay- but his hands
Move to my body-
I still don't say yes,
But after a while,
He doesn't want to
See me as much anymore,
And I guess some other girl
Finally told him what
He wanted to hear
Because it turns out that
He's been cheating on me...
Then I am fifteen years old,
Being asked my age
And receiving disappointment
From the hands of the
Asker- always male-
Because my answer is
Three years less than
What he's asking for-
I am fourteen years old
And I stay home because
I have decided that
Boys are not worth
My time;
Not since-
I am thirteen years old,
And the same boy
That kissed me first time
Asks me to have sex.
We break up after
I say no.
I am twelve years old
And my first boyfriend
Kisses me for the first time
On my birthday...
He tells me that he will
Love me forever.
I am eleven years old
And sometimes I wish
I had a boyfriend.
I am ten years old-
Sometimes I wish
I was a grown-up.
I am nine years old-
I am eight years old-
I am seven years old
And playing with Barbies;
Barbie is on top of Ken
Because that's what
Grown-ups do
On television...
I am six years old-
I am five years old-
I throw a fit because
I am informed that
I will have to grow up
One day...
I am four years old
And Mommy and Daddy
No longer sleep in the
Same bed, now don't live
In the same house;
They explain to me and
The other kids that they
Are never getting back
Together, but it's not
Because they don't
Love us, they just
Have grown-up
Problems-
I am three years old-
When I have nightmares,
I crawl into bed
With Mommy and Daddy...
I don't know why they
Share a bed, but I guess
It's because they always
Want to be together-
I am two years old-
I am one year old-
I am a summer baby
Because my parents
Made me on Christmas,
And that's way more
Than a sixteen-year-old
Needs to hear...
I am almost seventeen years old,
It is almost summer, and
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off...
I tell him I don't want sex.
He says okay...
It doesn't matter.
His hands move to
My face.
The Voice Within.
Somewhere in the depths of me, in a place I cannot find.
There lies the seed of longing, for that to which I’m blind.
I feel it dwells within me and every now and then,
Nudges my sensitivities and bids me, seek again.
It comes not from the body not a feeling or desire,
Nor a mood or temperament, but it consumes like fire.
It’s power, soft and subtle engulfs me as a mist,
Demanding my attention as would a maidens kiss.
After a while the attack is gone, though still I’m not at peace,
For somewhere in the depths of me that longing still exists.
For many years it has been so I’ve always had the choice,
To disregard material desires and seek that gentle voice.
Is it the voice of wisdom, am I not to understand.
Or the dreams from eons ago of prehistoric man?
Or does the yearning come to mock me, staying out of reach.
Should I surrender all and allow solitude to teach?
It bids me. “Change your ways, find a quiet and peaceful place.
Cast aside the wasteful doubt that keeps you in the race.
For time is long and life is short when they are side by side,
To live a lie will come to nought at the turning of the tide”.
But deep within I do perceive that the answer lay,
Not within the books I read or dreamings in the day.
It’s here within the eternal soul that joins us all as one,
Without whose love that boundless void would not be overcome.
Still the fire is there, the feeling of something missed.
'Tis a flame that can’t be smothered, while ever I exist.
It dwells and glows inside of me, though just a gentle flame.
And waits until my searching brings on an attack again.
And I cannot help but search for there is barely an interlude,
Between the whispers of that voice, “You’ll find me in solitude.”
My ignorance sustains me the battle won through lack of courage,
I stay here in my comfort zone and search the books for knowledge.
Days to weeks and weeks to months the months turn into years,
and still I read and procrastinate, and wrap myself in fears.
The day will come my life will end, and the other side,
The answer I’ll find and then I’ll know we should trust our guide.
______________________________
I grew up in a garden paradise
large white house in the country
sheltered by ancient oaks and naievity
passed idyllic days in childhood bliss
never ran it much through my mind before
until the day
I walked two hours with my life packed up on my back
set out on a sunny autumn morning
running on a four days empty belly, and some strong black coffee
met a tall, thin man along the way
asked me if I could play the bass slung over my back
I replied yes and he gave me his number
Three quarters of the way there the baby's stroller
gave one last groan of protest
and buckled under the weight of the bags hung on the handle
spilling everything onto the street
"These things can be kind of tricky,"
said the young man who helped me scoop everything up,
explaining how it used to happen
when he pushed around his younger siblings.
"See you around sometime,"
he offered up
Later we arrived,checked in at the front desk
no one else knew we were at the shelter
days here are passed aimlessly
in sedated daydreaming
nights are spent shivering with cold
and exhaustion
I can no longer count
the number of times I've been broken before
(I try not to think about it)
and pieced back together, but never quite the same,
I could tell you how the closet floor smells like mildew
when soaked through repeatedly with tears,
or describe the way his black eyes bulge in anger,
describe how every little fleck and bubble gathers at the corners
when his mouth froths white with hate,
and the vilest obscenities, and how after a while
you start to ask yourself if they're true
Armed with all the pamphlets from the front office
I was gonna do all the right things
they say it takes about five tries before you're successful
but what do you tell to the child who says, "Daddy bad, daddy gone?"
I almost made it this time, and then
He dropped by, told me to pack up my stuff,
we took the bus home
past the place where the young man helped me gather up my life off the road
past the spot where the tall, thin man gave me hope
and his number
- The baby was excited about his first ride
I'm back in the same old spot again,
little has changed but time
and knowing that once, just once,
I almost made it
...now I watch the birds out my kitchen window
close my eyes and ...
I'm almost free
There were no monsters nor creatures of doom, nor were there fellow humans torturing me in a combat zone. There was just me, entangled by battles of my body, soul, and spirit. Just me, engaged in warfare that only God can win. It reminded me of the GARDEN of Eden spoken of in the bible, such a beautiful place so well designed and made special for the object of one's love.
Like Adam and Eve, I never imagined anything that started so right and righteous could go so wrong and wicked. How could a place, an atmosphere, a paradise so innocent, would in an instance, lead me down PATHS of pain and disaster? But it happened, and fortunately, I have lived to tell the story of God's love and grace, and how He found and rescued me from the mouth of the MAZE.
This entire experience had the feel and presence of the serpent in Eden who presented Eve a whole new outlook on life and changed her perception of the God who loved her and would never lead her astray. After a while, everything within me that was once clear and pure became fogged with mud-filled SINUOUS trails, not one of which led me back to where I started.
So much bigger than anything I'd ever faced, this was a PUZZLE that challenged every cell in my brain, rendering me incapable of ascending from this elaborate and cleverly created twilight zone that I could not figure out. Like a never-ending, ever descending, and unimaginable TWISTING road that led to nowhere, I was compelled by an unseen force that kept me TURNING in every direction. I would later learn that the 'battle royal' was not an external force but was being waged from within me.
After resisting the reality of my predicament for hours that felt like 'forever', I finally accepted the fact that I was LOST and without outside assistance, I would die afraid and alone. Having been stopped by an impenetrable WALL, I was TRAPPED with no idea how I would exit this hell-hold and find my way home.
Then, I began to pray as I had never prayed before, but God seemed as if nowhere to be found. After much sweat and tears, I began to feel like Daniel must have felt in the lion's den when God showed up.
062320PSCtest, 'Maze - 10 Word Challenge', Dear Heart. 4p
On a cold winter’s night
We sit close together
By a fire, warm and snug
Almost sleeping, certainly dreaming
A hand-knit blanket is over us
It keeps us warm
As we watch the snow fall
On the back patio of our home
We stay for a while longer
Talking without worrying
No cares in the world
We’re free, living our life
Our lives are combined
They are now one
We share this life
In the pleasantness of our home
It’s not the house that makes it home
But you my dear
This home is beautiful because you’re here
And we discuss this by gentle flames
After a while, we’ll head off to bed
I’ll actually be able to sleep
Because you’ll be there beside me
So we slip into bed and into a dream
There’s a fire in the bedroom too
Keeping us warm on this night
This beautiful, snowy night
We drift off into a shared dream
You’re there beside me
And you’re there in my dream
I’m in yours as well
And when we wake, there you are
Oh, waking is so magical
Sunlight…early, pure sunlight
Pours into our room
It gradually wakens us
My eyes begin to open
The first thing I see is your face
Shining beautifully in the light
And we lay there together for a moment
After that moment
With your frame in my arms
We decide to get up
Slip on our slippers
Then we step outside
Into the cold morning air
To see the sun rising
Over the mountains around our home
It’s a beautiful sight
But after just a short time
We decide it’s too frigid
And step back inside
You go back to our room
To spend time with God
And today I decided
To read while I prepare the morning meal
A strange combination perhaps
But, ah, what better way to start the day
Than with God and with food?
Than reading and cooking?
Then breakfast is ready
I call to our room
You finished a moment before
And you sit at the table
I bring over our meals
And we start to eat
We enjoy the food
As we talk about our devotions
After the food is finished
We read together
And spend time in prayer
With God and each other
With the morning well underway
I contemplate the plan for the day
Perhaps we’ll go sledding
Or go pick out a puppy
I don’t know what we’ll do
I’m just happy to spend time with you
So we spend the day doing whatever
And later, we slip into a dream once again
something from the heart..
where do i start?
relationships have never been my thing...
so i just look foward to that day i give her a ring...
thats a while away...
in another universe...another day....
all i do is hope and pray...
im too afraid of rejection...
so i miss out on connections...
god gives us all a gift....
so what gift did he give to me?
im searching but i still dont see...
no gift in sight...
but i search all night....
my feelings dont change...
for years they have been the same...
throughtout this life i have felt pain...
its true girls will come and go...
but i want that one that will never go away....
maybe im just dreaming....
i close my eyes and its darkness...
i open my eyes and im heartless...
im no stranger to heartbroken...
why did it have to be that friend....
i guess thats what i get for my heart being open...
Still there is more to say...
more on my heart that i want to say...
at this point in life its stressful...
so how can i be successful?
so many things on my brain...
i want to lock them all away in a box with a chain...
its just so hard to explain...
when it comes to girls there is pain...
i feel like an outsider...
like everyone else is a butterfly or lady bug...
and i am a spider...
sure i really like her and she makes my day...
but im not really sure if she feels the same way...
she says things but it sounds like she dosent care....
my feelings for her make me feel like i can fight a bear...
or do some other kind of stupid dare...
her and poetry are like an escape...
but they are like a dream and you have to awake...
after a while she fades away...
and its just another day...
notebook open with a pen...
what do i say?
its always the same...
"i like you but lets stay friends"...
to me thats like the end....
so now i start again...
and my focus is not a girl...
but the one who created this world...
i will look to him for guidance...
i'll try to do my best...
and leave the devil in scilence...
too young to understand love...
so i give up...
left here thinking "what the ****?"...
holes in my heart as if lightning just struck...
longing to leave this planet and find a new home...
but sadly im stuck...
so i will make the best of what i have in this life..
and never think twice...
Going To The Fair
A farmer owned a large bull who was very big and strong and had a very high opinion of himself. One day the farmer’s bull was being lead to the fair, the bull thinking he would naturally be judged the best and gain first prize.
On the way they passed a field in which there was a horse who thought,
“I wonder where they are going?” then jumped over his fence and followed the bull to the fair.
The horse and the bull then passed a sty with a pig in it and the pig thought,
“Food!” and broke out of his sty and followed the horse, and bull to the fair.
After a while they passed a field with some sheep and the sheep thought,
“Baaaah!” and broke through the hedge that enclosed their field and followed the pig, the horse, and the bull to the fair.
The farmer saw his sheep, the pig, the horse, and the bull walking along the road and thought,
“I must get my sheep back into their field,” and followed the sheep, the pig, the horse and the bull along the road to the fair.
Then the farmer’s wife saw the farmer walking along the road behind the sheep, the pig, the horse and the bull and said,
“Silly old fool, I ought to see where he is going!” and followed the farmer, the sheep, the pig, the horse and the bull to the fair.
Then the farmer's dog saw the farmer and his wife walking along the road and thought,
“Perhaps I should follow them,” and followed the farmer and his wife, the sheep, the pig, the horse, and the bull along the road to the fair.
When they got to the fair the bull turned round and was very happy to see the horse, the pig, the sheep, the farmer, his wife and dog and thought they had all come to see him gain first prize at the fair.
But the dog said, “I was just following my master and his wife.
And the farmer’s wife said, “I was just following my silly husband.”
And the farmer said, “I just wanted to get my sheep back into their field.
And the sheep said, “Baaaah!”
And the pig said, “I thought they were all going to get some food!”
And the horse, being inquisitive, said, “I just followed the bull to see where he was going.”
And the bull was very unhappy because he really did think they had all come to see him gain the first prize at the fair.
Barry Stebbings
08/21/18
"The Gift"
Communication to a friend...
Responding to what you have written, responding to your thoughts. This is a very deep and very sad write and I get it.
I would like to read the story further to see how it unfolds.
One, no matter how F’ing awful the cards drawn in this life, expects to see a “win” at some point, even if it’s a small win. I think this is a metaphor for the treadmill of life and the large amount of driving down roads and passing parcels (messages) to others (you experience also in your job). Life becomes so stilted and routine after a while, like going to sleep and waking up (when you’d rather stay in your dreams, even the nightmares are lacking routine).
I wonder sometimes, when passing the parcel (like that game we played – or some of us played – at children’s parties, when we were very very young, with the expectation of a message of mystery and elation, then the unwrap, to find just another parcel wrapped underneath it all with another message for the next player we passed the parcel to – well, I wonder, what that person hides in their journey, no matter the glossy and cheery exterior they wear in front of us, swinging their gaslight, as some kind of torture, to say, “see I’m doing so much better than you”….when perhaps they aren’t and they are hiding great depths of despair internally, where they fall fathoms daily, not reaching even the bottom but they, in their own way, are trying (boy are they trying), to find the ladder to claw their way back out of the sinkhole (built by themselves, or others), towards the light. Depression loves its camouflage fatigues. Eventually, surely the last parcel reaches the person it is intended for and when the final unwrapping occurs, what’s contained in the Pandora box, may or may not be the diamond we were expecting.
I think you should continue this – it is like the opening chapter to a novel.
Have a lovely, peaceful, safe and joyful Christmas and I think perhaps 2023 might be your Year (for all good things to come your way).
With LOVE,
that is all that matters,
through every waking moment
p.s. I expect to read your next instalment on Christmas Day.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Christmas
In the lovely Dublin theater
where dreams are fulfilled
excited spectators hushed
In the silence of the night
with avid expectancy,
Bucks Fizz entered the stage
his music is a hidden gem
waiting to be performed
In a lovely breeze
a mellow silk thread was spun
akin to the moon's silky glow
I have hopeful dreams.
In the song 'Making Your Mind Up,'
they sang with clear voices
the audience leaned in
ready to hear
words have hidden meanings
with significant implications.
a galaxy of splendor
It's unlike ordinary life.
and are held captive
within its seductive embrace.
With voices that soar
they danced and whirled
with every movement
a lovely expression displayed
skirts swung
In utopian harmony
A glimpse into the future
they were whirling
every rotation brought free flowers
a touch of cosmic charm
a trail of delicate silver threads
from sparkling strands
Into the waiting hands below
voices burst with delight
they showed me their weary souls
while others can't consume
allow yourself to cry
whether from pure joy
evolved from a deep well of sadness.
weary spirits found rest
from exhaustion after a while
amid Eurovision magical lure
time stood still
the brine singer gaze
large and tender
someone uttered a song
that aimed to unify hearts
and whisk spirits away from here!
"This song was crafted for you, my beloved,"
she sang with a sense of urgency
then it accelerated
It's as graceful as a waltz
under the dancing stars.
twisting and falling from
skies above, to earth beneath
bystanders were enthralled
they left me behind, lost in a daze,
their devastated feelings
the beat captures my attention.
Where the tides of time glide
as the final note reached the air,
they were aware of this peculiar world
Under the stars
Bucks Fizz was presented
beyond just their vocals,
they weaved their magical gifts
similar to fabric producers
creating something fascinating
Their skirts pointed outward
akin to arrows
To faraway places
Where love and aspirations exist
Let us reflect on the Dublin scene
Where music meets magic
We have always danced together
During ephemeral times of skepticism
Let us revive the ageless ritual
Where skirts swirl.