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.
My thoughts flow so clearly now,
For a fog I've been walking through,
I never thought I'd see how,
I'd ever realize, what I already knew!
As the fog is starting to lift,
My life will soon make sense.
I know God has granted me some kind of gift,
I've just built, around myself a fence.
I put up a guard, so no pain could enter,
A shield for my own heart.
I saw myself alone, but a winner,
Ignoring the people I was tearing apart.
But God gave me this one last chance,
To set back and take a look,
I've said I'm sorry and made my stance,
And I'm changing the road I took.
And so you know, one of those,
People who still believe,
Is the one who sends these words to you,
This happens to be me.
Nobody Warns You About the Living Grief
They tell you motherhood is beautiful.
They lie.
They tell you about labor,
sleepless nights,
first words,
first steps.
Nobody tells you
about the day your child walks away
while you're still holding
every version
they've ever been.
The deepest grief
isn't always death.
Sometimes it's loving someone
who's still alive...
and missing them in every way.
No flowers.
No condolences.
Just an empty chair,
a silent phone,
and another,
"Sorry... can't make it."
Again.
You spend eighteen years
pouring yourself
into another soul.
Your youth.
Your dreams.
Your body.
Gladly.
Then one day
you're no longer
their kind of people.
How strange.
You were once
their whole world.
You watch them earn degrees,
build careers,
become everything
you prayed they'd become...
while somehow forgetting
the hands that lifted them there.
I've never been
so proud
and so heartbroken
at the same time.
A mother's heart
doesn't break once.
It breaks
every time
her child chooses
not to come home.
People say,
"At least they're happy."
Of course they are.
We spent our lives
making sure of it.
Maybe one day
life will hand them
the same mirror.
Maybe then
they'll recognize
their mother's tears...
only after they've become
the reason
she cried.
Today's headline: Mass vaccination in Africa begins in mid-2021
Wildfires do not pause for water hose, their seething pain not soothed by
a retard, life's full of
pose and repose when fairness reigns, otherwise
it's forfeited to vulgar lust.
The season's devil must vanquish
kindly, collectively, without murmuring prejudice, or it seizes upon
our wretched walls, taxing our profit,
the lofty humanity.
Gladly lay account to an unreality,
that Africa gets it first and the West last, can you imagine, they'll
likely nuke Africa to come out first, so the white ruling class of the world
can rejoice a heroic battle won with its golden-wiped, polished media bandits -- they are good for a swindle and a grief.
I want someone to rob the West of all their vaccines and dump them in Africa, so the slave continent can beat the old sorcery kitchen and escape its wilderness, let the scoundrels of the West hue and cry and speak of fairness and equality, scrabbling Africa's chestnut, their halls of power in moonlit gloom. The seven deadly sins of colonialism jump at us too late to stop the momentum, a brilliant revenge: pillage, slavery, settlement, indoctrination, coups and countercoups, and lies, history's full of them, and so is the ballad of the barefeet people's will to resist, every day is a good day to hang a colonialist by a Christmas tree.
My middle aged spread is just spreading
So I thought I should join a new gym
Got to fit in my dress for a wedding
With some exercise I could get thin
I’ve got these new gym pants that sparkle,
And a t-shirt that flatters my tum,
I look like a fat Meghan Markle,
Well, ok, I look like her fat Mum.
I’ve got me a personal trainer
Who’s worked out an exercise plan
And with dieting, it’s a no brainer
Plus, who knows, I might find a new man!
They all hang around by the free weights,
Looking muscly and tanned and exotic,
Saying stuff like “hey, I’ll spot for YOU, mate!”
It’s terribly **********.
I gawp at a steroid packed beefcake
his neat package on full display
Lifting weights with his very good ‘friend’ Blake
It’s a pity they’re overtly gay
I’ve a voucher to try spinning classes
All the cyclists are dripping with sweat
They wobble their cute little ‘asses’
I’m going to get fit you can bet
I might have a go at Pilates
(All those supple but sensitive men!)
But the “down dog” pose makes me quite farty
So I might “blow” my chance there and then.
The Zumba class gets my heart racing
My boobies they wobble like jelly
This gym bug I’m really embracing
It beats sitting down watching telly
Cos it’s fun getting breathless and sweaty
While drinking in all of the sights,
And so long as the staff don’t eject me,
It all counts as cardio, right?
All spent, I lie in the Jacuzzi
My bikini floats off in the bubbles
I look like a desperate floozie
I guess that’s the least of my troubles!
So here’s hoping I gain some more vigour
While my bum shrinks to tiny perfection
Who knows, with my smokin’ new figure
I might pull at the wedding reception!
Written with Nina Parmenter who is a fabulously talented very funny lady and a joy to collaborate with!
2/14/18
I, eye, with my little spy, the colors of the abacus.
The woolen pattern and bobbling often for a poncho, a season
They were giggling throughout my first semester
Got a little bit dim in the next season
And downward spiral she knows, for a round trip to fresno, frisco and the nearby reason.
What is storytelling to you? From the coping strategy discussion room, the counselor asked me.
I tried to answer vehemently even though the dream or I, or the dreamer in strumming
Were uncomfortable in diction, and appendix and often miriam, so
-Beyond one way CBT and dual controller DBT, this is a brainstorming beyond, and even so-
-How so? Did you see me fishy? In irrationality?
-No. In a rented apartment tenant situation, who else is there, other than your childhood plumber?
But you learned so many terms to fill in between often lost in the deepest try to find the proper diphthong!
And when the water supply was shut off, you knew what you did there!
And yet, he is not your motherly queue, still, he cleaned it for you!
One part of you is still succinct, telling he gets paid for the job and often so!
But somewhere you knew he knew his stuff, and it is about you too!
So, hold courage to the reason, not to the treason, often it is purgatory and involuntary and so
And take courage that you are too! For every kind of other end grizzly bear reason
The charmin’ bear and the bare necessity and the simple bare necessity
The toastmaster and the three quarter sleeves and the stuck up situation
One of them must be a see through
As there after whittling down with process of elimination, (POE)
This is the queue and the rest to be phonetic too!
Jun 11,2024
Covid-19 has entered our heads
this man-made virus has left many for dead
It consumes all our thoughts so fast and so quick
but it takes several days to know if you’re sick
With millions of people wearing masks worldwide
there are millions more at home, feeling trapped from inside
With such a contagion that’s so deadly it kills
why are all of our masks going to the landfill?
Isn’t this a bio hazard, that should be properly contained?
Yet I haven’t seen a bin, with dispose of here, displayed
I’m a little bit confused, has this been overlooked?
So many get reused and then hung on a hook
I’m asking this question for those who don’t think
there is something a bit odd and it’s starting to stink
Is this Mask for our safety like we’ve been led to believe?
Is this not a big deal, or has their common sense taken leave?
August 10, 2020
She died before her actual death
Before she took her final breath
She was dead before she used that gun
You see, you killed her with your tongue.
What ultimately made her choice
Was the constant sound of your voice
Telling her she was no good
She died because you wished she would
She died when you tore her apart
She loved you, but you broke her heart
Her friend you pretended to be
But you were really the enemy.
She died because she felt alone
You never called or texted her phone
She had no one to call her friend
And so her life she chose to end.
She died because society
Decided who she ought to be
But those standards she couldn't meet
She died because she did not fit.
You really are the ones to blame
You heaped her head with loads of shame
Her death was ruled a suicide
But twas because of you she died.
WE WILL WALK OUR RAINS
Welcome the falling rain with a rainbow smile
dripping onto our face rippling even the sea.
Flowers and bushes mottled wet along the aisle
together in the pouring rain, running with glee!
Without a care in the world the brackens spree
and beneath the trees nesting birds hide in style,
beholding this vista, we both are in agree:
Welcome the falling rain with a rainbow smile!
Soak and cold, hugging for warmth is worthwhile
and so is hearing the rains' staccato percussion keys
in a moment of stillness... Some cascading vile
dripping onto our face rippling even the sea,
some bring frowns, worse-- tears to our eyes
but having a beloved through every miles
may lighten dark skies. Hopefully, those guise
flowers and bushes mottled wet along the aisle
dry as the sun rises, wiping natures cries.
Under the sun, under the rain: dance and be free!
Breathe! Drink their essence... Release some sighs
together in the pouring rain, running with glee!
The rain and the sun: like a couple sustaining life~
garnishing both the earth with gregarious greens.
May we be like them: partners holding no strife...
The yins and yangs now smoothly hurdled in between
welcome the falling rain...
_______________________________________________________
*** Bracken/s~ these are ferns.
Poem Contest: ONE
~~3rd place~~
Copyright © 2015 Olive Eloisa Guillermo and James Andrew Fraser
6:21 pm, September 03,2015
Today I noticed rain clouds gathering
And the sky was turning gray;
Cooler air was moving in
As the winds kicked up a fray.
Birds stopped singing in the trees
As leaves began to drift
Up, down and all around
And my spirits began to lift.
You’d think the mood was melancholy
But the opposite was true;
Negativity does not depend on if or when
The sky is orange or black or blue.
I was lifted up and blown away
Like a rocket in the night,
The storm clouds coming my way
Were all but pure delight.
Knowing feelings are but a state of mind
We cultivate with care,
Like planting seeds and pulling weeds
In foul weather and in fair.
Sometimes we’re more successful than
This life ought to allow,
While other times we miss the mark
Not knowing why or how.
We let our moods go racing
Like wild horses running free,
Controlling who and what we are
Inside, we just can’t see.
The fact that we’re not mustangs,
Thoroughbreds or colts,
We’re so much more than runs on four
Legs and likes to bolt.
We’re the family of humanity
With minds that ebb and flow
From rainy clouds and starry nights
To the green grass down below.
And so we seek to control our temperaments
From the universe inside me and you,
Because negativity does not depend on if or when
The sky is orange or black or blue.
I'm just writing my story
Leaving out all the glory
I never tore them; yet the pages and spine are all but broken
Its letters are scattered, yet still the words form a concise omen
Would you read it back to me slowly, please, as you reach the bitter ending?
It hurts my eyes, you see; this heart could use a break from all this bending.....
Being devoured alive inside is such a epic novel unsavory
Moments, however, are kept in order by thoughts of your light upon my gnomon
They just keep coming, though without a care as to whether or not they are heartrending
It's so sour to own a form of pain that is this condescending
A barren land uncultivated and so divided from this yeoman
Painless by comparison to a nose job given by the grindstone of life's knavery
Just as I finished; then, the ink ran dry right before me.....
It's in this here and now that I've broken out
I wanna scream, but they drown out every shout
Then I think of all the things I ought not talk about:
Have they ever not been a couple minutes too late?
Do they ever have their story straight?
Inside me, hope has made its case to abate....
Hung from ropes unknown, can you relate?
Am I the world's least astute gadabout?
What I feel is that my intentions are drawn and quartered; based fully on others' self-doubt
But there is no way I will let this point of pitiful; be an excuse to live life by copping out