Long Aid Poems

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


Premium Member Foster Square,Bradford England

It wasn’t that she was the only woman
in the group, that mingled precariously
beneath the bronze figure, or her classic
stance, when placing immaculately the
newsprint covered bottle to lips willingly
breached, but more her opulent style, her
contrast of attire, her hair as yet unspoilt. 
Although jewel less except for a wedding
ring in her recently pierce blood stained ear
lobe, (this bearing signs of some street wise ritual?)
she still wore a suave sophistication, eyes
that bred a wanton life, fingers more use to
the gentle stem of the crystal goblet, than
the demure grasp of the shapeless neck of
the common brown.     But alas maybe the
corrosion has not as yet penetrated her
foreboding mind, a mind that in time will
be given to surrender, never to realize that
this volatile life will plunge her deeper, into
one shambolic life, whilst still trying to escape
from the previous. But! Who knows what ills she
was force to bear, what tribulations life brought
upon her, maybe her new found acquaintance
comfort her, listen to her sympathetically,
understanding her predicament, also a novelty
this sharing, this caring, respect and reverence
showered upon her, like solicitous petals
falling gracefully upon her shoulders,
removing the burdens of a lifetime.
                                                         Her head
began to lift higher and higher with every
mouthful of distant courage, every courteous act.
Then! A look of deep despair, as the bottle was
released from her reluctant deep red lips, a
senseless shake only proved her greatest fear.
Immediately to her aid, came one of her new found
companions, swiftly finishing his own endless gorge,
he commence to wipe the neck of his perpetual habit,
with his mucus soiled cuff less sleeve, before
passing it on to her veracious hand, his eyes eagerly
awaiting its return.
                            One can imagine when the long day
is over, the sun finally at rest, only the motley bench will be hers, only the best that fleet street can offer, will cover her chilled body, her metabolism soon accelerating, to become one with theirs, a license to enter their dissipation, only then will all options for her diminish, external metamorphosis soon to blend with inner corruption, life’s destruction almost completed!

                                        © Harry J Horsman 1991


Premium Member Heavenly Cake

We wanted to make a heavenly cake
But needed angelic ingredients
That were as far out of reach as can be
So we thought of other expedients

Like the famed store of unusual foods
Though it wasn’t around the corner
But then a melancholy light hit me
That we should seek a recent mourner

Who is akin to a newly deceased
Thus privy to a loved one in heaven
So I gently approached my grandfather
Hoping to make a mindful impression

I asked if he thought he could contact
The soul of my loving grandmother
To impart a glimpse of what they cook there
But he said that I should ask another

Making a heavenly cake like we planned
Was more trying than it first appeared
We needed to find some other way
Some way that may be more or less weird

I bravely entered a graveyard one night
With a shuddery moon full and blue
Hoping a spirit would come to my aid
With some heavenly food to pick through

But the creaking only got creepier
As each hour of that night crept by
And though frightened I got sleepier
With no ingredients to descry

Next day I dove deep in the library
About divine dishes present and passed
But couldn’t find one book apropos
So I went to the front desk and asked

The curator ventured to the attic
Where she recalled a very rare book
Aptly titled Eatin’ in Eden
With recipes for a heavenly cook

And on page one hundred fifty two
A recipe for heavenly cake
That purported the impossible
A trip to heaven to undertake

Yet most ways seemed too obnoxious
Even simply holding one’s breath
Which no matter how long it’s tried for
Is never enough for courting death

And if one died and went to heaven
How could they ever make the return
Back to earth to bake a divine cake
There was still much to this cake to learn

We flipped through every page of that book
To decipher somehow or some way
When we wondrously divined that the why
Was not where, but was plain as the day

The cake base is like a rich chocolate
Vastly deep as a moonless night sky
And while fudgy is light and airy
Certainly heavenly certified

Plus shrouded with fluffy cloud frosting
Of downy whiteness from pleasant dreams
That is also sweet as the sunshine
And piped with fresh rainbow hued creams

The cosmos cooks up celestial things
From the blue sky to heavenly cake
So after all that worry and work
It was in essence a breeze to make
Form: Rhyme

Nothing Really Matters

Lately everything seems to be surrounded in darkness
Either I am way too close or too far away
When I stand close I perfectly see the flickering light ahead
How close it is but when I reach it.. it just disappears
I can't seem to grasp anything that's around me anymore
When I touch it, it just turns to ash... 

Seems I have lost the will to do much anything
Sometimes I find myself starring at white walls..
I forgot to think.. maybe I will forget to breath too

The image of the world in my head.. is so different from what I see... with my eyes
Is reality an allusion or is the world in my head.. 

Darkness surrounding everyone I stand close to
You see them fade in and out like a hologram
When you reach out to touch them.. they are not real
Sometimes they just.. disappear 
Then I find myself searching for what I used to know

Seems the world in my head.. is not so bright and colorful anymore
Either everyone is stuck in the past with me.. or they are moving forward..
I am watching them pass me by as I stay within the realm I am used to knowing

No matter how many times I change my appearance..
Everything stays the same... and I realize..
All the people I know.. 
In the end. .. nothing really matters...

Everything you knew..
Everything you have touched..

Everyone you have loved
Everyone you once cared for

All the lessons you learned...
what are they for?...

Is it better to be... alone..
Where there is no pain in a relationship with another..
I can no longer get close to anyone..
I find myself.. stepping further and further back
Yet I cannot stop myself... there is no rope to grab..

Which world would I rather live in.. the one i see with my eyes.. or the one in my head...

They both have become.. one of the same... covered and smeared in blood.. 
Darkness...

I have no reflection in the mirror.. and I can feel my soul slipping from within me
All I see.. is cracks.. where my soul is leaking its way out..
Yet no band-aid or super glue.. could help cover it

Hallow...

Nothing can save you now.. because you realize... the truth..
Once your world is coming to an end.. it wont matter.. 
You will not remember.. you wont be able to feel.. 

Somehow, even with this darkness and being surrounded by darkness
Having the feeling of comfort and a blind happiness

Everything is perfectly where it belongs...
Form: Lyric

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).

Premium Member pink hair and motorcycles

you remember that one time when ava fell off the swings and cut her knee?
how everyone laughed at her for her childish hubris in thinking she could jump and land,
unscathed, from that high a distance?
how the laughter roared as they watched a 9-year-old cry
and clutch her knee with both hands,
creating a burrow for blood under her nails?
how, without a moment of hesitation,
you ran to her, helped her up, and walked her to the nurse’s office?

yeah. didn’t think you’d remember it, if i’m being totally honest.
well, that moment, watching you put her arm around your shoulder for balance,
so she could hop her way down a flight and half of stairs for a single band-aid,
i think I fell in love with you.
maybe love is an exaggeration,
but looking at these old photos of us,
with your hair flying in the wind and my hair tucked in your helmet
as i clutched your waist for dear life,
the two of us,
flying down the freeway on your motorcycle,
i can’t think of a better word to describe my feelings for you.

these pictures,
now covered in layers of dust,
remind me of everything that could have been.
of everything that will never be.
i lost you so many addictions ago,
i guess i should’ve known when your words turned to lies,

and your lies turned to routine,
but i didn’t want to believe that the girl
with the bright pink hair and tacky leather jackets,
the girl that i had fallen so hard for,
was now gone.
that she had been replaced with someone who simply
went through the motions every day,
no longer able to feel anything for anyone,
someone who looked in the mirror,
wishing that the reflection would be blank.

the doctors say that your liver gave out,
but i think that the real cause was that you gave up.
i saw how hard you fought,
how you ran away from who you’d become,
leaving us behind in a race to find yourself.
you were gone long before the red line representing your heart’s last efforts flattened.
you’ve been gone so long that i’ve had to rely on these pictures
to make sure that you were ever real.
you’ve become nothing but a memory,
a hope, a wish for better,
a tragic story that i wish i never was a part of.

i miss you,
more than you could ever know,
more than i can ever process.
i miss you because no matter what happened,
no matter where you went,
no matter how long you’ve been gone,
i still loved you.
© Oliver Chu  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Putin's Great Blunder

Putin said he wouldn't invade, but then he's known for his lies
So when he sent in his murdering scum, it came as no surprise 
It will go down in the annals of history, as Putin's great blunder 
And if anything it's united Ukraine, and not tore it asunder. 

American President Joe Biden has now found a way
To make that despicable war criminal, Vlad Putin pay
To Ukraine he's sending lethal predator, and reaper drones 
That will help to build stocks of dog food, of Russian bones. 

Russian soldiers are not human from what we have seen
You've read and seen the evidence, so you know what I mean
They're gutless and have yellow streaks all down their backs
And scurry down to the sewers when Ukraine counter attacks. 

Russians fire from a distance and let their lethal missiles fly
At hospitals, nurseries and any innocent civilians passing by
They only kill unarmed men, women and children, who pose no threat 
But Russia, the civilised world is watching  and we will not forget. 

Red flags are what the Russians are using, to justify a crime
But the world is not stupid and it can see through the grime
A Russian town on the border was shelled so they could blame Ukraine 
Then used it as an excuse to inflict, more misery and pain. 

Every Despot who commits war crimes will always pay the price
Putin the war dog will be put down, Ukraine will not think twice 
He'll have to surround himself with thugs and be lucky every day
But an avenger will only have to strike lucky once, to make Putin pay. 

No tears were shed when he lost his flagship, in the black sea
It is one lethal weapon less to use, against that war torn country 
The west thought sanctions alone would bring this war to an end
But it hasn't really worked, so more arms the west must send. 

The battle for the Eastern Donbas region is well underway 
And for those brave Ukrainian defenders, we must all pray
They're fighting to defend their freedom and sovereignty 
But only military aid from the West will ensure their victory. 

The horrific scenes we've seen on the news of towns reduced to rubble 
Are because Putin knows he's not winning and that he's in trouble 
At his forthcoming military parade, he's hoping to announce a victory 
But if he was an honest man he'd tell his country, that he's failed miserably. 




Written on 20th April 2022
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Beware the Peek Holes

We were extremely delighted when we picked up the keys to our brand new house and starting at the front door, we made slow anticipative steps desirous of testing the key making sure it was correctly made. But to our utter surprise, it did not fit in the keyhole, and we were left outside our new house like house-citing strangers admiring all the landscape and beautifully designed exterior.                       Although my wife was calm and patient, I was steaming hot in the dead of winter sending out smoke signals both from heat and cold with unspeakable emotions which were overwhelmingly joyous just seconds before.  What now and what was I suppose to do?  How does one go from 'cloud nine'  to free-fall far below the clouds in milliseconds?  Not only did the key not fit, but I wondered if there might be some other surprises waiting for us on the inside. Although I pretended to be at ease, my wife was reading the 'waves of intolerance' forming inside of me.  My curiosity got  the best  of me.  So I took a quick peek through the key hole never imagining that I would observe such disappointing craftmanship.

That peek filled my emotional cup to overflowing and left me angrier, devastated, frustrated, most utterly confused, and my imagination grew more bewildered when I considered what it must really look like beyond the peek hole.  This entire venture of home building was supposed to fulfill our quest and life-long dream of a brand new home, but it appeared that our dream was rapidly turning into the greatest nightmare by the aid of a peek hole.  We wondered what revelations lie behind curtain number three or the fourth peel of the banana.

My wife suggested we get another peek from the back, and you guessed it, "The beat goes on". In our view from the front peek hole, we only looked toward the walls and ceilings, but instinctively my wife looked down toward the floors and the nightmare grew bigger.  My already painful headache took on 'jet propulsion speed with the beat of the wildest rock band.  Water was every where because the furnace had been left off causing the pipes to freeze and brake.  Smiles and peace were nowhere to be found as my lovely wife began to cry.  The beat goes on but .......

12312018PoSoupContest, Slap The Muse And Turn It Loose, John Lawless                                                          *Fictitious Narrative
Form: Narrative

She Still Cares For Me

SHE STILL CARES FOR ME: THOUGH I'VE CAUSED HER NOTHING BUT 
SADNESS. I'VE DONE HER NOTHING BUT WRONG. BUT SOMEHOW SHE 
REMAINS VERY STRONG. 

SHE STILL CARES FOR ME: EVEN THOUGH I'VE MADE HER CRY. SHE'S 
EXPERIENCED MANY SLEEPLESS NIGHTS. I KNOW THAT I MUST MAKE 
THINGS RIGHT. 

SHE STILL CARE FOR ME: EVEN THOUGH WE'VE LOST SO MUCH TIME 
TOGETHER. AND I GIVEN HER SO MUCH STRESS AND PROBLEMS. HER RAY 
OF SUNSHINE ALWAYS OVERTAKES MY STORMY WEATHER. 

SHE STILL CARES FOR: THROUGH ALL OF THE TRIALS AND PAIN. SHE 
KNOWS HOW MUCH I'VE TOYED WITH HER EMOTIONS AND PLAYED 
AROUND. SHE CONTINUED TO BE HUMBLE AND HELD HER GROUND. 

SHE STILL CARE FOR: SHE TRIED TO BLESS ME WITH A CHILD. THE BIRTH 
WAS UNSUCCESSFUL, SHE AND I WAS DEEPLY HURT. BUT SHE WIPED 
AWAY MY TEARS AND BLESSED ME WITH HER BEAUTIFUL SMILE. 

SHE STILL CARES FOR ME: SHE HELD ME CLOSE WHEN MY MOTHER 
PASSED AWAY MY WORLD BECAME SURROUNDED WITH ONLY DARK, 
GLOOMY THOUGHTS. SHE WAS THAT ENTITY THAT EMERGED TO BRING ME 
BRIGHTER DAYS. 

SHE STILL CARE FOR ME: RUSHED TO MY AID WHEN I WAS MALNOURISHED 
AND HOMELESS. THOUGH SHE DIDN'T HAVE MUCH FOR HERSELF. SHE 
TOOK ME IN AND NURSED ME BACK HEALTH. 

SHE STILL CARES FOR ME: THROUGH ALL OF MY HATRED AND PRIDE. PLUS 
OF THE NEGATIVE EMOTIONS AND ANGER THAT I CARRIED INSIDE. SHE 
HELPED ME PUT DOWN MY BURDENS AND BECAME MY GUIDING LIGHT. 

SHE STILL CARES FOR ME: I TRIED HER PATIENTS THROUGH SELFISH ACTS 
OF IGNORANCE. THINKING THAT I WAS ALL OF THAT, BEING FOOLISH 
CONVEYING STUPIDITY/ ARROGANCE. SHE ALWAYS SHOWED AND PROVE 
ME WRONG WITH HER WISDOM, UNDERSTANDING AND INTELLIGENCE. 

SHE STILL CARES FOR ME: WHEN I HAVE NIGHTMARES AND SCARY 
DREAMS. I AWAKE SHAKING, SHIVERING, TEARY EYED WHILE SHE'S 
HOLDING ME. SHE IS A LOVING AND VIRTUOUS QUEEN. 

YOU ARE MY ONE AND ONLY. I AM SO SORRY FOR PUTTING YOU THROUGH 
SO MUCH DRAMA. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MAKES ME FEEL SO GOOD 
INSIDE. YOU'VE BEEN THERE FOR ME THROUGH THE GOOD AND BAD 
TIMES. 

YOU'VE SEEN ME AT MY WORSE AND NEVER ONCE DID YOU JUDGE ME. I 
THANK MY FATHER FOR BLESSING ME WITH SUCH A BEAUTIFUL ROSE. I 
COULDN'T NOR WOULD I WANT TO GO ON WITHOUT YOU. I REALIZE THAT 
MY WORLD IS SO EMPTY WITHOUT YOU. I CAN'T DENY YOUR LOVE ANY 
LONGER QUEEN. YOU ARE EVERYTHING THAT A MAN COULD WISH FOR. I 
WILL LOVE AND CARE FOR YOU ALWAYS………………………………...

Everyone Is Doing Better Than Me

It hasn't been long
Since I've been on this Earth
And left the place to have my life start
The people I've known
The ones who've all grown
They’re all changing now, they are
Going along their path
Going to college and having kids
Or gaining knowledge with their many friends
As I sit helpless and depressed
Dormant in my bed
While my time grows less and less
And it seems so clear I see
That everyone’s doing better than me

I work for a wage
Doing dirty jobs
They push me like a slave
I just apologize and nod
I only afford pay rent with the money I make
Things don’t get cheaper, and the income doesn’t change
Sometimes I go to parties
Meet many people who’ve known each other all for so  very long
I stand around, I don’t know anyone
Don’t know why I would even come

I feel complex
But simple minded
Everyone seems to easily make friends
It’s not that I can’t put myself out there
Just feel like a bother interacting with them
As I sit alone in a chair
Drinking a beer, and fake smiling along
I could see, so plainly
Everyone is doing better than me

The more I explain myself
The worst I seem to come across
I seem to rub people wrong
And I always seem to feel lost
When I frown they say I look angry
When I smile they say I look creepy
When I look at them, they turn away from me
When I turn away, they think I’m high-and-mighty
When I say hello, they say goodbye
When I say goodbye, they ask why
People wonder why I can’t just talk to people
I feel like I’m the only one who thinks it’s normal
They think something is wrong with me
I’m not the only one who’s awkward around people they meet
I express myself in all the wrong ways
Because when I feel unhappy, that’s when I need aid
Whenever I feel happy, there’s nothing I need to say
And still I look around and see
That everyone is doing better than me

I want to grow up
But I don’t want to leave everything behind
Except for who I use to be, to everyone else I’m still that guy
I wish I had friends but I suck at conversation
I wish I had success, but I need help to make it happen
If I could be who I would like to be
I’d already be that person instead of being me
I know that when we die, well go to the same place
So it doesn't really matter who really won the race
But still it causes me to grieve
Because everyone I know
Everyone is doing better than me
Form: Ballad

Serious Sibling Subluxation

Serious sibling subluxation... 
rapprochement somewhat salvaged dislocation

Truth be told about following poem 
mostly written quite some years ago, 
and revisions made to recreate
and revise a more satisfactory literary product.

This trademark ungainly, unsightly,
and unwieldy title essentially
huzzah mask ***** aid,
(my humble apology NOT
to incite unwanted 
and unwonted anger 
among lgbtqia community),
and accentuates tendency
(mine) to administer
reverent unpretentious yawping,
sans (asper thy usual)

wordy, quirky, nutty, heady, easy...
and gallimaufry charade,
though pointed lament
decries copious blather,
which awareness (in tandem
with better devilishly cherubic angels)
prevail upon sesquipedalian
nippy nap noopy quirkiness, might be
in my best (in show) 
interest to evade
leaving an unsuspecting

reader psychologically frayed,
and without doubt prematurely
finds same cyber surfer 
harried and grayed,
styled akin to experience dramatic,
and sudden onset of progeria
hence, a concerted effort
will be orchestrated, i.e.made
so everyone involved woodwind 
fur me (a hip cat) tabby 
conscientiously choosing

meow me modus operandi
to mute trumpeting, 
associated with this one man
faltering hit parade,
hence, an intent to write
swiftly tailored and more clearly,
cogently, and creditably
qua more understandable to invite,
subsequently witnessing, an
increased authorial fan
base, and unite

easy to comprehend
underlying intelligent conversation,
and/or share something trite,
anyway, thee impetus regarding
risking emailing a younger sister,
where repressed spite led 
to dissolution, née cessation
of brotherly linkedin communication
engendered me to make right
egregious emotional estrangement,
principally vitiated, nursed, 

generated, augmented
(thank you very much) by me,
viz in sum avoidance behavior
(traipsing, purring, loping,
humming, and doodling along) quite
familiarly, easily, (no matter
discontentedly), alas and alack
moment seemed apropos
for this only bro
their to allow, enable,

and proffer selflessness -
pushing aside ego
(mine) and attempt to go
for the gusto hoe
embarking, kickstarting, and
resolving upon reasonable resolutions
to convey persevere re-establishing
cordiality, despite misgivings
toward Shari Todd
thee family member in question.
Form: Rhyme

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