Long And so Poems
Long And so Poems. Below are the most popular long And so by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long And so poems by poem length and keyword.
Words recess and my heart weeps
When I pen a tribute to you...
How could that even happened?
We were three and you are gone
I don't even like to use past tense
when it comes to your presence...
I used to hear" kutti" 100 times a day,
Now my ears bleed without hearing your voice...
Starting from a tooth paste to the bank balance
Every decision was taken by you.
Now, when I am demanded
to get death certificate for you,
Do you know, how it hurts?
Empty chair and cot and reading glasses
remind you often;
The carrom board and pallanguzhi we played
are nearly orphans...
No matter how old I am,
You always treated me as a kid.
No matter how poor you were,
You discerned me as your princess
For the past 1 year, you went nowhere
without me,
But on that particular day, from where
did you get that guts to leave me?
You have done no evils
And so you are in heaven and there,
You may get everything you desire .
But just tell me,
Do you have a daughter like me, there?
Who thinks of you daily,
Who cries for you ,
Who wishes to utter trivial stories to you,
Who wants to share every news with you,
Who craves to laugh and play with you,
and who knows nothing but you...
You left your last breath that day,
But I am grappling to breath now every day...
So, you may ask,
"Then why are you still there, come join me"
It's because of your wife, my mom,
I am living here...
You had a harsh heart to leave your loved ones,
But my heart is a feeble one...
Dedicated to my dad who left us on July 05 2020.
Thank you to all
my poetry soup friends
you have been a blesing from
begining till the end
thank you for your support and encouragment
thanks for showing that you always care
when I need inspiration or guidance
your words of comfort are always with me right there
no matter what life may bring
to my Lord I can always sing
thank you for my friends
so sincere and so true
thanks to all my friends
you are a blessing through and through
so may every good blessing be returned a hundred fold to you.
God bless all my poetry soup friends
may you be blesed the best that can be
may you be blessed as you have blesed me. love diane ***
Forced into womanhood at 12
betrayed by those you trusted
abused daily mentally and physically
forced to sleep in the animal shed
Your escape was short-lived
being captured and returned
to your tormentors
In the mountain
the cruel knife passed
on your innocent face
No, Aisha
that is not cold water
in your nose
It is your blood
Your nose is gone
and so are your ears
Your tormentors have gone away
and left you alone to die
But you refused to lay down
and die
With your defiant spirit
you crawled down the mountain
to those who cared
and protected you
and helped you to a new life
away from the evil unjust system
you inherited by birth
What was your crime
to be dealt such cruelty?
Winter finally exhales its last frozen breath
as I inhale victory over our duel with death.
Slowly, the snow melts from its deep drifts,
as we cross life's bridge and seek Spring's gifts.
I rise from my bed where I had lain for weeks,
tiptoe to the cradle to see the blush on her cheeks.
Pink glow of health, my child peacefully sleeps
and breathes easy where death no longer creeps.
Finally, life smiles and gives us another chance
as Spring renews the earth in her colorful dance.
Tulips, clover, wisteria in profusion everywhere.
Life is more beautiful when its been given a scare.
Through an opened window, my eyes partake
Irises budding on the banks of the thawed lake.
Water hyacinths being visited by the honey bee.
Visions of Spring I thought I'd never again see.
Baby birds in their nests, call their mothers to be fed.
My little daughter's cheeks are becoming scarlet red.
I'll nurse her hunger with motherly love, missing so long,
while kittens purr, and robins sing an enchanting song.
How glorious it feels to be well and so vibrantly alive.
My precious child and I will now blossom and thrive.
A sun drenched pasture is one of the season's charms.
Tomorrow I'll walk in clover with my babe in my arms.
A prayer to give thanks for this sunshine flowery day
and restored life that almost took hers and mine away.
My garden's finery lavishly adorns sweet Mother Earth.
It's a daffodil day! A time to enjoy Spring's new birth.
Spring, an appropriate name I've chosen for my child.
Precious infant nurtured when Winter winds turned mild.
Ruffles of pink adorn you like the petals of a cabbage rose.
I promise to keep you safe, so close your eyes and doze.
Nymph of my heart, I pray that you become a lovely flower.
Grow into a woman, sweet as jasmine on a garden bower.
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Contest was finalized on 4/13/16 Written on 3/20/16
Barren, desolate, this place we once called home
It's where so many wonders lived, and so many roamed
But all it takes is some, to determine their madly thoughts
Invitingly we enter their world, where us innocent are caught
How brave of them they are, to think of who they've become
Abusing man made creations, the continuation of their gun
How ignorant they must be, surely they have family and friends
But they buck the trend of life, purely driven round their bend
What could have gone through their thoughts, once the button was pressed
Were there flashbacks back to their past, were they even stressed
Did they ever imagine, skin melting from skeletal shapes
Where once stood a person, a dusting shadow the wind now takes
Landmarks in their city of life, flattened in crumbled dust lie
For once the button was pressed, you would barely hear a cry
Rivers, lakes and streams, became steam filled released pressure cookers
Yet the decision to press the button, in depths hidden were the lookers
We are now barren and desolate, this place we once called home
There is no point in looking, no one can be found, even with a fine toothed comb
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-20.php
I counted each bone in your fingers as you ran them through my hair..
your lips played a merry tune I almost knew.,
and the soft warm winds blew through us,
in horizontal horizons too vast to comprehend.
The flowers in the field looked on, drenched in summer heat..
and I was content to let the minutes slip on by.
Oh how I love you, do you know that?
the days will find us here again and again
time will allow us this one request, I hope...
Are you hungry?, we could go and have some lunch..
we've already had our dessert.
No, she said.., let's stay with the flowers and let the sun have its fun..
a little longer won't hurt.
I like my friend happy, and happy was her name that day...
keeping in tune as her fingers continued playing..
The weatherman says we're going to get a storm, are you ready?
I am, she said, I've known so many before.
I smiled at her, and she smiled back..
and content to let it be..
and so glad my happy let me.
From the ancient lands of Mesopotamia,
A story of friendship and love,
Of a king and a wild man, united,
In adventures that took them above.
Gilgamesh, the mighty king of Uruk,
A man of strength and fame,
But with a fear of death that haunted,
And a longing to escape that claim.
Enkidu, the wild and free spirit,
Born of the earth and wild,
A being of raw, untamed power,
Who was destined to be exiled.
But fate had other plans in store,
As Gilgamesh and Enkidu met,
And a friendship was born that day,
That nothing could ever forget.
Together they battled fierce monsters,
And faced the perils of the unknown,
Their bond growing stronger with each step,
Their love like a seed that was sown.
Yet even in victory, Gilgamesh,
Could not escape the fear in his heart,
The fear of death that loomed above,
And threatened to tear him apart.
So he set out on a quest for answers,
To find the key to eternal life,
But in his journey, he learned a truth,
That cut through the pain like a knife.
For he realized that life is a gift,
A precious and fleeting thing,
And that true happiness lies in love,
And the joy that it can bring.
And so, with Enkidu by his side,
Gilgamesh returned to his land,
A wiser and humbler man,
With a heart that had been re-manned.
The Epic of Gilgamesh, a tale of love,
Of friendship that will never die,
A reminder that in this journey of life,
It's the love we share that will help us to fly.
:: 03.11.2023 ::
Yes, I'm a nerd.
But, on the basis that you call me a nerd, is absurd.
So what if I'm shy and quiet?
How on earth does that prove that I'm not right?
I feel suffocated when I'm with you guys.
I honestly think you're nothing but a bunch of hypocrites.
How come we are the villains when you shed your crocodile tears?
What if I'm really tired of your you-don't-belong-here stares?
"What? Trust me, I don't really discriminate against you guys. "
To the girl who said this: you are annoying and so are your lies.
I acknowledge that we don't have the same preferences or choices.
But does that make us so bad that you even get vexed by our voices?
This 'loving' poem was for my 'loving' classmates.
I can't, and I won't bother myself with your hates.
They loved receiving gifts from their Grandma and Grandpa but as birthdays and holidays flew by they noticed they never gave each other gifts…one day…they asked them why?
Grandma and Grandpa smiled as their memories began to drift.
We decided every day we get to spend together, they said…that would be our gift.
“And so we made a covenant that we would find a way to show each other we loved each other a little each and every day.
To give each other at least one gift of love before each day is through.
Not necessarily with the things we buy…but by the little things we say and do.
A smile, a kiss, holding hands, a touch…although they may seem small,
we have found throughout the years are the greatest gifts of all.
We discovered just by the little things we do or something simple we might say we can make every day that we’re together into a holiday.
Their grandparents are both gone now but their grandchildren still like to boast…that the little gifts of love they gave them…are the ones they cherish most.
I spy you standing in the shadows cast
by a flashing neon sign, bumming a smoke,
with your nose dripping as it does on coke;
your pale skin and red hair in sharp contrast.
And you're ogled by shady men you've asked
for a smoke, even some hippy type bloke
who tries to convince you to take a toke.
You didn't recognize me as I passed.
Like a silhouette inked by the darkness,
you are framed by flashing colored lights,
and so drunk, three times you had to hurl.
This alley holds an aura of starkness
and although I know all about your rights,
I won't walk away; you're my baby girl!
(Italian Sonnet)
8/8/2018