Long Age Poems

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


True Love

Only True Love has empathy to spare,
Only True Love can stop the tears from flowing,
Only True Love is devoid of selfishness.

Only True Love knows the meaning of forgiveness,
Only True Love takes passion in the right direction,
Only True Love can make the ultimate sacrifice.

Only True Love speaks through the heart,
Only True Love is guilt free,
Only True Love is safe under the moon.


Only True Love sees the beauty within us all,
Only True Love can make us feel truly needed,
Only True Love can calm our restless spirits.

Only True Love can remove inequalities,
Only True Love can make us fearless,
Only True Love can keep us from plunging over the precipice.


Premium Member Thank You From Joyce

So my heart has been warmed and touched by those who took the time in this selfish world to greet my once-a-year birthday greetings tunes. May your day be the day of love and growth for you also someone to care that you lived another year.. someone to express greeting means a  heart filled thanks for the river of constant love that flows from heart to heart in the cycle of life.. May the river  of kindness never run dry in my world your world of met and greet.
So the latest is from my birthday tell yesterday I have been all of a sudden very ill some say a psychic attack all right so with the tears in my eyes I tried to smile but the attacks did not stop very severely pain, so I prayed and I prayed all night long and cried so hard my eyes were swollen the pain remained  and the dreams battles were fierce dizzy spells and I could not walk very far all of a sudden it was over. But my body is still very weak so every kind gesture has humbled me and the music keep me alive just believing in the songs that no wrong would bury my destiny keep me climbing this push to my inner flame and for you  you don,t want to be me  a lonely place to be great test and the still small voice and light that guides the way to. What the  Holy Father wants from our time down here on earth. Update on my work.......................................................................
We are in the process of judging your submission(s)  to our next anthology. We hope to have the judging completed by the end of October.

Logic's Song

I once saw an old man with hair 
          the color of snow and in his hand,
          He held two circulates of gold.

          I asked the man what the rings
          were for.
          One, He said, is for the Young
          and the other for the Old.

          With questioning eyes, I looked
          upon and as He explained,
          I heard logic's song.

         An in conclusive reasoning, He said
         and then a comforting smile,
         He gave, as He continued to say.

         (The Young) " The  heavy bodies 
         descend by gravity and again the
         gravity is quality; Whereby a heavy
         descends is an impertinent circle and
         teaches nothing.
         Meaning: The Journey Onward.

         (The Old) " A circle which touches 
         the curve and close to the point more
         nearly coincides with the curve than
         hence is called; Circe of curvation.
         Meaning: Coming Into Full Circle.

         An unofficial association of people, I said
         but the smart set goes there.

         It's simple my Dear, He said;
         A plane curve generated by one point
         moving at a constant distance from a
         fixed point, (The Young & The Old).

         As He calculated the circumference of the
         circle, again He spoke.
         Every part of which is equally distant from
         a point within it, is called: The Center, The Soul.

         He spoke in logic in which I had never heard spoken.
         A conclusion of a form of argument between two
         or more unproved statements that in the end, prove
         each other as one.

         Alpha, Omega, The beginning and the ending,
         a circulate of gold. The Young and The Old.

sky talk

Sky talk 

The massive intellect of the universe
have thought that it is no longer cost-effective to 
human on planet earth 
The problem is how to save other non-human life
plants, trees, and flowers
Careful before one continues lest it thinks useful
born without a sense of humor, regarded fun-time
as an extension of work
What is needed to save the world's plant life is
to find a person magnifically stupid, who is silent 
and delay any sensible reaction.
Enter, the Peacemaker
 A man of such foibles as admitting to failure will
lead humanity so quickly to a fall that there shall
There's no asking, oh dear, what happened  
 Smoothly, the voice  of the alter intellect said
Tucker Carlson is packing, and his readers sighed 
The rumors were true
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Young

It's farcical how young I feel
Though I acknowledge what’s real
I look in the mirror and see
Someone else looking back at me.

Mirrors show every tiny line
I believe they cannot be mine
Though my vision has become blurred
And I struggle to hear a word.

Once I possessed dark brunette hair
Now there's silver threads everywhere
In my mind I’m still young with zeal 
In the mirror truth doth reveal. 

It's the same when I write at night
That youngster is my guiding light
I realise it’s daft but true
She’s my muse to poetry too.

How quickly goes passing of time
But to me I'm still in my prime
Here's to being the young aged me
‘Til conclusion of my life’s story.
Form: Rhyme


The Last Day

The Last Day

The first day is like an unwrapped mystery
Christmas, birthday, holiday present
Oxygen and nitrogen fills the air with freshness
Like news, wet ink from press, unread paper and baby’s breath

The second day is like an unmade bed and breakfast
The sky opens up at high noon for business, middle life
Half time, savory centered, comes with existence, full flavored  
Balance takes on the order of the day, remains, saved 

The last day is like charcoal grays washed away with rain
Colors fade, grains of sand dance out the counted hours  
Doomsday is right around the corner casting shadows
Let’s keep it there, under wraps, under the Christmas trees of past
Form: Quatrain

EU talks

EU talks

They sat in a splendid room around a big table
talking about Gaza and the war in Ukraine
I avoid saying, "war in Gaza," as it is nothing 
but slaughter of the innocent 
Naturally, the Hamas was a terrorist entity
and ought the be disbanded and replaced by
worthy people, presumable with an office
Brussel
Regarding Ukraine, EU must help Ukraine
to win this war sending money to by one 
thinks buy weapon and Russia was the
unspeakable aggressor
Not one person appeared to have read 
the near past, that this war was not needed 
Russia didn't want NATO near its border
therefore Ukraine had to be neutral
We know the hysterical reaction when Russia
tried to build a base in Cuba , nuclear arms
were ready and the locks on silos opened 
As before the world sided with the USA
Hamas and Hezbollah, bona fide organizations
defending the right of the Palestinians 
and other groups, against Israel's aggression 
what we think is of no interest to them.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Eye of Me

in a world of chaos and disparity
i but strive for order, peace and serenity
and prefer not to put words to how i feel
i'm not one for brooding or drama
though i've been known in my day to be
passionate, even wild and impatient

with the years i've managed to harness
the cauldron of energy i nurture down deep inside
still, to be honest, i don’t like to look in the mirror
i fail to understand where the years have gone
i shiver at facing the inevitable truth that
i could have pursued my dreams with more persistence
and could have done so much more with my life

in my eyes i see the tinge of failure and sadness
the flame of passion withered with disappointment
the regret of having ultimately taken time for granted

i see less of what i have done
and more of what i could have done
i see an emptiness that makes me sad
i see time slipping through my fingers

i realize it’s a warped vision that’s cynical and out of focus
but i can’t help but hate the sadness i see in the mirror



AP: 1st place 2026, Honorable Mention 2023, Honorable Mention 2022

Submitted on August 5, 2023 for LET THERE BE VOICE sponsored by JOHN ANDERSON  -  RANKED 2ND

Premium Member Stop Thinking! No! Don't!

The 2nd Trump Presidency Begins

To express my own Whitmanesque
"barbaric yawp", constrained by
internal (and external) barriers,
mentally constipated, I merely mutter,
feel pressures steadily mounting.
Hesitant, I expel grunts and breaths --
disinhibit streams of consciousness,
encourage verbal fluidity, ease
the heaviness I feel, the weight
upon my chest.  I breathe deeply.
Physiological processes require
tiring conscious effort.  I decide
to be calm, to relax, to direct
myself away from temporal reality
to mere existence without excess
self-awareness, without fearfiul
anticipation of "future", which
other animals on earth seem happily
to lack. (Or do they?)

Stop thinking!

(No!  Don't!)

Is This the Best We Can Do

in a country of  335 million people
one of the richest more educated places
on the entire planet

the largest economy, 
the best military
still for now a democratic country

is this the best we can do
choose between three old white men
as our next leader
and the leader of the world ?

a clearly delusional  NYC ex reality TV star president
still talking about draining the swamp 
and fighting the evil deep state 
destroying the government in the process
as he and his cronies loot the country 

a gadfly Senator ex Brooklyn Jew from small town Vermont 
formenting radial revolution
yet failing to excite anyone but the young
and those falling behind 

and a professional politician who has been around for decades
calling to restore the old failed status quo 
saying that he can restore competence to the government
hoping that the third time is the famous charm

dear God if you exist
is this the best we can do?
nothing but silence
as God does not answer my plea
© Jake Aller  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace