Long All out Poems

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


Across Fair Fields

Run across the fair fields, as fast as you can run, the fields your grandmother ran as a young girl,
Over long lush dark green grasses, whipping your knees, soft spongy turf springs each new step,
To stop where fast flowing streams rush and dance to the wind, a sweat breaking out on your face,
All out of breath kneeling by the bank of a brook, a stitch in your side, corn waves like a gentle sea.

By the brook with childhood friends enjoying sweet company watching spring as her beauty unfolds,
To walk across wet water mead’s, seeing glades in their finest clothes, to a meadow, in full flower,
Rolling in grass making camps sitting legs crossed as warm summer breezes temper-sweating brows,
Making sure you sit next to the one you care for most, nothing will be as good as this day ever again.

Playing in the meadows where your grandmother played, picking daisies, making very long chains,
Holding buttercups up to chins to see if they shine, then laughing, shouting out loud when they do.
Playing kiss chase, slightly slowing down, when the one you want to be kissed by is chasing you,
Under old pear blossom trees, flushed rosy red cheeks sitting next the one who is your first love.

Laying in high grass chin in cupped hands, it is so special this lovely day will be yours for all time,
Just staring at friends, full of innocence and so happy, this romantic time can never be repeated,
Unplanned moments where beautiful things just happen it’s your youth just enjoy the here and now,
Where everything is brighter has more colour, smells from the meadows become a memory for life.

Laying on your back staring at turquoise watery skies, listening to the silence, a perfect sunny day,
Heaths meeting small woods surrounded by greenest carpets only seen by a child’s pure innocence,
Give your heart and soul to this day enjoy natures gifts, your end of days will recall these moments,
Falling asleep in the December of your life, this last dream your friends will be there waiting for you.

So gather these thoughts, tie them up in a bow, put them safely in a corner of yesterday’s thoughts,
And walk again with your dear young friends in those happy times golden hair fluttering in the breeze,
Back to days of cotton dresses and turned-up jeans with baggy shirts, nobody noticed or even cared,
Hold your sweethearts hand once again and run across the fair fields where your grandmother ran.


New Dog In Town

My son had come back home to stay for just a little while.
He brought with him his terrier friend;  a lively, puppy child.
The skinny, little half grown dog came bounding through my door.
I couldn’t realize at the time, all he’d become . .  and more.

For sure he tipped the apple cart when first he entered in.
His lively spirit made me think, I’d not know peace again.
The walks with my old terrier dog were all that I could want.
Soon slow and steady, calm, serene, became a grueling jaunt.

Old dog sniffed each bush and tree, as young dog plunged ahead.
While I was pulled this way and that and mostly seeing red.
And God forbid another dog come ambling on our way;
My stress filled walk would soon become, an all out frenzied fray.

He plagued the cats, barked at the door: he loved to sit and howl.
While I just tore my hair out: yet I found that all this while;
He simply grew to grow on me despite his naughty ways.
And as the time began to pass we had some better days.

While in his quiet moments; he just loved my generous lap.
Liked to have his belly rubbed: lay with me for a nap.
He liked to give wet kisses, till I had to tell him, “No."
Loved the car: turned inside out, whenever I said “Go”.

My son moved on, as sons will do, endeavoring to be free.
And by this time we both agreed; young dog should stay with me.
And when old dog forsook my side, because God said he must;
I found the young dog next to me gave all his love and trust.

He stayed beside me night and day and never asked to leave.
He seemed to sense I needed him, along with time to grieve.
I then began to understand what a nice dog lived with me, 
For in the old dog’s shadow; he’d become all he could be!

But fate became unkind to us and time was not his friend.
The young dog only stayed awhile, then moved on once again.
And this time I was all alone, with no friend by my side.
My days were filled with missing him, while nights I'd lay and cry.

I know they are together now, in a place God made for them:
These happy creatures sent to earth to be my loyal friends.
I know their spirits run and play; nevermore will they know pain.
Because of this, despite my grief; I’d not wish them back again.

But I’ll remember each of them, through all my days that pass.
It's really hard for me to say, whose loved first and whose loved last?


© 2015 Diane Lefebvre
Form: Narrative

Empty Nest

Chubby little dimpled hand’s reach up to stroke my face
Happy cowboy booted boy, with hair all out of place
Broken nose, stepped on shoes, doggies left behind,
These are the things as I grow old, is running through my mind.
It only took a dollar to win a skip bow game
And if you lost the first one, we would play again
The homemade pizza and the pop would add to all the fun.
If you won $2.00 you’d be the lucky one.
How precious do those days now seem with all the children gone
Their children grown and have their own. Where do I now belong?
Tiny children calling grandma, I look around to see,
But they are calling my child, no longer calling me.
Life’s gone so fast, what do I do with the days that’s left ahead?
How many book’s can I read or how long stay in the bed.
The years have taken toll on me, and bones within me ache
Forgetfulness encamps my mind of the pills that I should take.
They call these the golden years, they say they’ll come a time,
When I will say I’ll take my rest and life will be a rhyme,
Of words I put together, to say how I do feel,
Forgotten, Laid aside for now, Hey what is the deal?
I once was young but now I’m old and I can only see,
The path that’s laid before me and I shall walk with thee.
Oh gates now open wide for me, do you see me coming in?
The brightness of your being Lord has made me to live again.
The ones I’ve loved are waiting, their hands stretched out to me.
Mother’s, father’s, cherished ones I see oh now I see.
Rejoicing, laughing, loving ones, oh wait I hear my name
Grandma, Grandma comes the cry,I turn to see the same
Loving girls hand in hand as they rush forth for me
sunlight shining in their hair, death had set them free.
I catch them up close to me and I finally get to say
I am so glad to be with you, you'll brighten up my day.
Let me tell you of your mother's that have missed you very much
Who would have given everything to feel your baby touch
How fast life goes and very soon they will come here too
To share with you the beauty and their joy of loving you.
But now I will remember…dimpled hands upon my face,
Cowboy booted little boy with hair all out of place.
I look back and I can see how lucky I have been
To have those precious moments, that I relive again.
So booted boy and dimpled hand’s, so fair, so fair of face.
I put you back within my heart, till I have run the race.
Form: Rhyme

Mother 1

I could recall some years ago
The day that sealed the  deeds of the deal
And dot the long journey  of nine months
In my calendar of the years
The same brought about the cry 
That started the journey  of my childhood…
What a honey of motherhood?
An answer to your heart cry
                                            
You were assisted and ushered 
Into the labor room 
Like my savior was accompanied 
To Gethsemane and went further
With the burden of sin of perishing souls
He bent His knees in prayers; 
He sweated blood

So you lingered 'un-angered'
With the burden of a baby boy
You genuflected in labor 
Fear with joy loomed in the air
Swimming in the ocean tides of the clouds
And I could see water dripping 
Down your cheeks and nostrils
All because of me

Could I see any one that flogged you? 
No! It's I beating you from within 
Not with cane but with pains
Like a sheep before its shearer
You journeyed between life and death
All because of me!
 
It would have been simple if that was all
But I could see 
Like two of your younger ones
Even of your daughter's age 
Shouting at you
Push! Push! Push!
Else you kill this baby
What ridicule leading a miracle?
All because of me!

Push! Push! Push!
That was their shout and cry
That ushered me into a new world
Right at their ward
That was not because they're wayward
It was a labor room

It was labor for you
That which ignited my favour
What a pain heralding a gain?
But it was like a pay to me
I took it for a ride but 
It was mother’s pride and joy 
I thought it was play
Until she smacked and spanked me

Yet they succeeded
As they persuaded you and encouraged you
Then and there with flow of water 
And pool of blood you pushed forth 
And you pushed through.
 
I thought it was a favour and for my good
Only to see her hand carried me 
As if she was all out to help
But it was only to cut the cord
While I held my hands together
Lost in the comfort and dream 
Of the cosy womb  
She took me out of the comfort zone
She smacks and spanks me 
Again, again, and again
She made me to cry and never cared to say sorry
But told stories

He's another boy, she said
Right there she baptized me 
Into a new world
She dragged that thing 
She called cot to your side
And placed me in it
Alone I was laid crying
And all she did was to laugh at me
Mum. Her white uniform belied her act

Dedicated to V.A Aderounmu.
© Fisayo  Aderounmu.2012
Form: Verse

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 What's Up With Santa

Santa felt all out of sorts up there in the pole,
the elves looked at each other and shook their heads.
They had tried their best to jolly Santa along
but the more they tried, the sadder he got.

Finally one asked him why he was so sad
shaking his head Santa said they no longer believe.
No more do they send me letters of what they want
and telling me how good they have been.

As he sat there the tears rolled and mingled in his beard
and his belly shook and rolled over and over in folds.
The North Pole House started to melt and fall away in chunks
what can we do to get belief back into people's hearts? one asked.

We could write letters and send them to him said one
that will not work said another he knows all their names.
WE have to find a Believer and bring them here to him
for if there is no belief the North Pole house will die.

The elves searched around the world looking for just one
any one would do as long as they still believed in Santa.
Try as they might none could they find. Until one elf heard
a child crying out his heart. Why do you cry? little man,

Santa never answers my letters he said I have sent him so many
The other children laugh at me and say he no longer exists,
that he for many years has never replied to their requests. 
The elf shook his head in disbelief as he listened to the child.

He threw some Christmas dust over the child and whisked him
away to the North Pole house. The child's eyes were popping 
right out of his head as he watched the elves busily working.
He does still exist he screamed in excitement. He does, he does.

As for Santa, he soon cheered up and busily got to work
loading up his sled with many brightly wrapped presents.
Why did you not answer my letters Santa the child asked?
What letters? I have had no letters for what seems like years.

This mystery puzzled the elves, where on earth could they be,
It was Mrs Santa that had the answer. That old fool she said
he tucks them away in his pocket and then forgets about them
see there are hundreds it is no wonder no one  still believes.

Dear oh dear said Santa my mind is so forgetful lets get them read
that Christmas children world wide received so many presents
Once again belief returned and the North Pole house was saved
As faith in Christmas was reborn and happy faces smiled and smiled

written 11/27/2014
Form: Imagism

Premium Member I Am Immortal

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
there will be no more death or mourning or
crying or pain, for the old order of things has
passed away. Revelation 21: 4 (NIV Bible)

I AM IMMORTAL

Explode from mortal to immortal,
in one forgotten breath.
Intake of first light.
Born, through the tunnel of my despair.
First images in black and white.
Mind snaps new memories…
I’m nearly breathless, as he comes into view,
hand extended - the one pierced for my transgressions.
And funny, my heart is racing, I’m sweating…
Salty tears run down my cheeks onto my shoulders.
I’ve hit my knees, weeping, at his bare feet.
His gentle hand upon my head,
he says, “arise my child.”
I obey, and blink through torrent tears.
     I don’t see, but I feel the softest cloth – like cashmere,
     rub over my face, catching each tear -
     not one is missed.
I hear the sound of tinkling water.
     The snow white cloth, I see it now!
He wrings out the shroud, and continues to wipe away
     my misery.
“Cry, my child. Let it all out.” 
He speaks to me as my mother would, lilted words.
Afterward, he points to a bottle, takes out a permanent ink pen –
Oh yes, they have those in heaven!
Writes a name. I look up at him, with questioning eyes.
Someone’s name, an unknown to me has been written.
Jesus smiles.*
“I’ve named you my child.”
I instantly hear the pronunciation, and register the meaning,
which, I believe, will take me all of eternity to dissect.
How beautiful, my name rings coming from pure lips!
“Come,” he says, “come and meet your family.”
We walk together, inside open gates - pearly gates.
I feel as though I’ve entered oz!**
Vivid rainbow colors, and colors I’ve never seen before!
Happiness like chains falling off…
     like heavy burdens laid aside…
     like a fresh shower…
     like a new found tropical waterfall…
And I see exuberant faces. I know each name,
even those I’ve never met before.
I’m treated like a bride, an assembly line that takes their time,
hugging me, kissing each cheek. You see,
I have eternity. I am immortal!

2/19/2017

*smallest verse in bible – Jesus wept (John 11:35). In eternity,
I’ve adapted mine to say, “Jesus smiles.”

**L. Frank Baum’s book Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Movie
starts out in black and white then turns to color as the
protagonist enters Oz.
Form: Imagism

Premium Member Silence of Suicide

Season of death plays her melancholic tune,
tragedy portrayed through a chorus of birds.
In regret, I ponder why you left so soon,
still mourning the impact of your last words.

Demons hid some pieces of your jigsaw brain,
lost in your black abyss, troubles began to form.
Alcohol, drugs and abuse turned your life insane,
but your tongue was silent, battling the storm.

Sometimes I read the note you left behind,
saying you were sorry, but life was not kind.
If only I knew a way for time to rewind,
maybe I could have eased that troubled mind.

Guess you felt death would bring an end to the pain,
hope you found peace from a life you left in vane.

Silent One
27 October 2020

I lost a very special friend to suicide, on new years eve 1996.
It was not my only experience with suicide, but it was one that had a big impact on my life, because, I was the last person she spoke to.
Sadly, I did not get to her in time and she had already departed the world that troubled her so much.  At the time, she was only 18.

For years, I struggled to come to terms with it, my coping mechanism was to blank it all out, suppress the emotions.  But every new years eve, I would not do anything, it was my way of rebelling against it, I guess.  I lived with regret.  Sad thing was I never spoke to anyone about it.

I learned to deal with it through writing.  My first poem about what happened was in 2015.

Some think suicide is selfish, but it is not.  It is difficult for those left behind to deal with it, but we need to understand, people who leave the world in such a way, do not want to die, they want to end the pain.
Sometimes, no matter what we do or say, it may not help.

Always keep an eye out for family and friends, who you may think are feeling low and at times worthless.  Many of us, at times, feel we do not belong.
Sometimes, the smallest act of reaching out could make a difference.

If you are feeling suicidal, there are helplines available in your country.  Please call someone to talk to them.  It could make a difference.

When we feel confused, oppressed, worthless, low, unloved, live a life without affection and understanding... Please remember there is always someone out there who loves and cares about you and will miss you so much if you are gone.

Sorry for the sad poem and thank you for reading.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

Does He Even Know What He Does To Me

How seeing the smile on his face
How it exposes the dimples he tries to hide
And it goes up to his eyes
To catch a glimpse of it
Makes my heart smile
That all it takes is a few words
To turn my day around
A few words to bring a smile
A few words to make me laugh
He does that to me
Does he even know what he does to me?
How when I am wrapped in his arms
The world fades away
It’s just us there existing
The safety and security I feel
The warmth of him
So comforting
In his arms I feel at home
And for that moment in time
Nothing seems to be missing
And life feels complete
Does he even know what he does to me?
When I look into his eyes
And he doesn’t look away
And stares right back into mine
How my breath catches in my throat
He doesn’t really know 
Just how beautiful his eyes really are
How they see deep into my soul
How there’s a puddle at my feet
From the thawing of the ice around my heart
Does he even know what he does to me?
Even when I can’t think my day can worsen
All it takes is just the right words
From him to change my entire attitude
For him to bring a smile to my face
For him to bring a laugh in my throat
And that he wants nothing more
Than to be here to wipe away my tears
Does he even know what he does to me?
That I still get butterflies when I am waiting
Waiting to see him again
That my heart races and my palms sweat
It’s like sweet chaos inside of me
Then there he is and we embrace
And my hands tremble from it all
My voice quivers as much as I fight it
Because it’s so hard to contain my excitement
Does he even know what he does to me?
That he makes me feel free to let go
To show him the things I’ve hidden away
To want to take off the masks I’ve worn
To feel like I can let it all out and cry
That he brings out the best in me
How he is breaking these chains that bind
How he’s helping to heal these wounds of mine
If he only knew the comfort I felt
If he only knew how fast my heart races
If he only knew how much I want him here
If he only knew he’s the first person I think of when I wake
If he only knew he’s the last person I think of when I sleep
If he only knew this yearning inside
If he only knew how this wall is crumbling
If he only knew how my life is so much better
If he only knew of the happiness he gives me
Then he would know just what he does to me....

The Make Shift Road

Big trucks rolling down the market street
blowing their horn in the crowded street
Big trucks going around, I have no clue where they are bound, they swirl and turn rocking the people`s nerve, big horn, big man with little wisdom compiled in their head.The truck is bigger than the street and it swallow up everything that
it meets, competition is so sweet and it can drag you out in the middle of the street. It can back
you up into the corner,and it can make you listen
to a careless whisper, big trucks will make you linger.The street is narrow, the street is short but the big truck has swallow it all, a show of talent,  a show of strength will make is rocking the street until it is bent.The fellow is hanging on the side of the truck, the driver is  pressing the gas more and the people are mocking and jeer asking and asking for more. I sat at the garbage can observing the recklesness of man.The truck, the man, and the courage of the pennyless man walking around kitchen street begging a dollar to buy something to eat while big tucks without goods roaming aimlessly through the little town galivanting up and down.What is the purpose of this daily fleet going around in the street, to say who is working and who is giving the order,
what a waste of talent, what a waste of strength
the game is one again and they are going to play
it until they are dead.They know that their contracts are up and they are and they are all out
of luck.See them comming from all corners and the time is getting shorter,and their base gets smaller.They are giving up their loyality to take a chance with the royality, they will take a chance at something new and they have considered it through and through.The sun has dissapeared underneath the clouds on a new mission for the earth.It is comming closer to you and you must review in through and through and through.Big truck crawling like ant, big trucks waiting at the ports, big trucks loaded with dirt, big trucks in the showcase, make your choice before it is too late. Big trucks is waiting for you big trucks will cause misery for me and you overturn the red and white dump truck in the middle of the wasteland and get the occult people out of the land.Big trucks are on the detour road, big trucks are running out of gas, big trucks have lost their contracts, big trucks are struggling on the makeshift road.
Form: Narrative

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