Long Anymore Poems
Long Anymore Poems. Below are the most popular long Anymore by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Anymore poems by poem length and keyword.
You’re gentle, judgemental,
A freak in sheep’s disguise
Yet in some ways you’re burdened by self sacrifice,
You’re obsessive, compulsive,
Afraid to let me go
You’re afraid of what’s left of you,
If you have not my hand to hold
You know I love you,
But it’s time to move on
Take a fall, and crash out, if I’m wrong
Be scared, I’ll hold you,
If again our paths may intertwine,
Someday you’ll see me smile,
But now is not your time
So I guess we have little left to say,
But happy hurt day,
Let’s eat our heart ache
We’ll bake ‘till we can’t feel
Lind’s eat your cupcake,
Made out of mistakes
Let’s wrap up what’s concealed
‘Cause it’s your birthday,
But not anymore
Since you chose the hurt held door
So happy hurt day,
Look, I baked you cupcakes
Blow out your candles,
Close the door
I pack a shirt.
And pants.
And toothbrush.
Did I pack a shirt?
Should pack another and another?
A pillow, for sure.
I’m sleeping on the couch.
So maybe a foam roller for aches.
Food? Drinks?
I don’t know anymore!
Should I pack a swim suit?
A folding chair?
A bowling ball?
My sister almost leaves me behind.
I tried to bring the world with me.
Except, except, except…
The things I always forget no matter how hard I try.
But driving through the country side.
Passing fields and lakes.
Pointing out billboards, and laughing.
I feel like I could go anywhere.
Without packing anything at all.
Been beat up and brought down
Been stepped on and spit on
Been lost but now I’m found
O
Lord
I am not going to be the devils punching bag anymore
Been called out MY name
Nothing but the Christian name ma and grandma gave me
Can you call me
And did I tell you I am a child of the LIVING KING
Been beat up and brought down
Been stepped on and spit on
Been lost but now I’m found
O
Lord
I am not going to be the devils punching bag anymore
I'm not gonna be the devil punching bag anymore
I'm not gonna be the devil punching bag anymore
not gonna be the devil punching bag anymore
I digress, yet I am heavenly blessed
And I have past my test
I was down for the ninth count, but I got back up
I not going to be your stomping ground, Satan
I’m not going to let you continually beat me down Devil
I’m not going to allow you to plant seeds of discouragement
I rise up, I RISE above your seas torrents…
My choice is to be the defeater
I choose not to be defeated
I digress, yet I am heavenly blessed
And I have past my test
And did I tell you I am a child of the LIVING KING
I digress, yet I am heavenly blessed
And I have past my test, yes
I digress, yet I am heavenly blessed
And I have past my test, yeah
Alleluia, I digress, yet I am heavenly blessed
And I have past my test
I digress, yet I am heavenly blessed
And I have past my test
O
Lord
I am not going to be the devils punching bag anymore
I'm not gonna be the devil punching bag anymore
I'm not gonna be the devil punching bag anymore
not gonna be the devil punching bag anymore
I digress, yet I am heavenly blessed
And I have past my test
I am not going to be the devils punching bag anymore
3/6/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
All that glistens is not gold,
Of that, you can be sure
The wedding ring I'm wearing
Does it have a gold mark?
I don't know anymore.
Fake is the in word
We now ask, what is real?
Real looks wrong
Fake looks right
It has a look and feel
Of real
Sadly it isn't
Natural is hard to find
It isn't natural
Fake is not kind,
It is all pretence
That muddles up your mind.
Water tastes like water,
It is not champagne
Although fake champagne,
It can taste like water
In this phony name game.
Faux fur was: I think,
A fake that I understand
I disagree with animal slaughter
For the benefit of man
My skin belongs to me
It is genuine, real
I don't need another skin
From an animal kill.
Fake has a funny taste to me
I find comfort in authenticity
It makes my heart ache
And brings tears to my eyes
When I can't see the reality
That the fakeness hides.
I stopped crying for a woman
Who doesn't want me anymore.
I stopped trying to make sense
Of a love that was no more.
I stopped trying to make that woman
Know how much I hurt.
I stopped worrying about a lost love
& put my feelings first.
I stopped thinking about her
& wondering how she's doing.
This obsession I was having
Was causing my life to be in ruins.
I stopped thinking about her new love
Was he better than me?
The more I thought about it
It caused me so much misery.
I stopped looking at her pictures
But damn, she's so fine.
It just messed with my sanity
My life was no longer mine.
I stopped calling & texting
No kind of contact.
I need to get her out of my head
I want my life back.
I stopped writing all of these love poems
That were all about her
People said I was "PuxXxy Whipped"
They're right, I concur.
I stopped chasing after her
& begging to talk to her .
It just made me look foolish
Like some deranged stalker.
I stopped lying in bed
Because all I did was cry & weep.
I couldn't take it no more
& I was losing too much sleep.
I stopped worrying & praying
That we'd get back together.
I'll just put her, in the back of my mind
& try to forget her.
I Stopped!
I Stopped!
I Stopped!
Now it's time to START...........living again.
And She said :
Be gone...Do not look me in the eyes
We were not belongers but intruders
who happened to trespass into each other's lives
We were no Romeo and Juliette but great pretenders.
Like moon rocks- Believing they are the ones
who light up an infinite sky.
Be Gone...Do not look me in the eyes
Let not my lips go there to that young and serene night
where we danced barefoot on the sand
with arms embraced against the sadness of lost time.
Your decision has been made.
The last petal of an untouched margarita
withered too early in dust and rain
And you never asked why.
Be Gone...Do not look me in the eyes
Do not remember me Do not think of me...
Forget my foreign whisper
Like I'll soon forget the wrinkle in your smile
There was never a better place
Nor will there be another time
The empty pages have been filled
Our unfinished book- Not anymore.
You' ll become a nobody...Like I am your nobody
A trembling echo in your hourglass fading in the sand
An empty barrel without sweetened wine.
Do not miss me Do not need me..
Do not long for my touch Do not remember me
Who am I ? I am just your rehearsed dream
Who am I ? I am just a metaphoric lie.
Be Gone..Do not look me in the eyes and say goodbye.
I was never yours You were never mine.
I was you were Were you Was I?
Be Gone...Do not look me in the eyes.
Just musings inspired by music.
Letterman
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Write Letterman
One hundred lines
In your letter
Write it better
Word's wayward may miss their mark's
And disconnect our rooftop moment's.
Pick and nick at everything you have seen.
Writing plenty can be empty.
Love lost I cannot win you back
It's a ache it's a heartache.
Drowing for the word's but
Sorrow in our fairytales.
It's a ache it's a headache.
Pale dry lines and wet crying eyes.
Just me and blunt paper.
Write harder Letterman..
Write with your heart instead
Dress it up in paper and
Pen the memory's
Without regrets.
"Hey Rea
I fear future dreams about you
I have to be honest with you..
When we were ecstatic
In those lovely sunset day's.
Sitting atop the billboard
Looking down
At the growing neon city
Sipping coffee .. time buzzing by
The small people.
Running up and down
In locked street's.
Not knowing where
They going to ..
Not knowing where ..
They coming from.
All in quick paced hurry's.
The people and their pain's
My advantage of being with you"
Then thud ! suddenly..
Gracefully you left me behind
I can't write anymore ..
It was us..
Marry me a 100 times ?
I write on the billboard..
But.. sadly
Our line's abort.
Your life cut short
Hundred lines will not..
Bring you back.
One night about a year ago, we heard whimpering at our door.
One of us had to get up and go, didn’t reckon for what was in store.
A dog, with a note “look after our dog we don’t want him anymore.
We know you are good people, we have watched you at the shops.
Some were shaking their heads and demanding all that noise stops.
We saw you give a woman with 4 screaming kids a bag of lolly pops."
Referring to the dog, tied to our veranda lattice, the note went on to say,
"He isn’t a bad dog and doesn’t eat much, its just that he won’t ever obey.
We can’t control him, and he never stops crying, right up to this very day."
It was a cold night, so we brought him in after we finally got him untied.
At midnight he was warmly soaking in the laundry tub, once inside.
To warm him up, get him clean and to kill every flee that we spied.
Wrapped him in an old towel and realized we had a big decision to make.
The burning question, what to do for the poor dog and for our sake.
We hadn’t planned on getting a dog. Quite a responsibility to undertake.
Finally he stopped whimpering, and on a blanket settled down to sleep.
We would sleep on the burning question whether to give away or keep.
In the morning we were surprised, we got up and didn’t hear a peep.
My husband said good morning he called the dog ‘Bandon’ to my surprise.
“Well” he said “he is an A Bandon’d dog,” Which sounded quite wise.
Having a look at him, he was a handsome dog with large bright eyes.
A metal dish we used for BBQ’s had already been painted with his name.
It seemed we had made “our” decision, a majority of one just the same.
He ate well wagging his tail all the while, and when we called, he came.
Now it was time to work out a budget to handle our new expenses.
Dog food, vet, registration, lead and collar Had we lost our senses?
And then the matter of building and fortifying all our gates and fences.
Well that was all a year ago and time has past and I am happy to relate,
We have a terrific friend. If he sees it left open, he closes the gate.
He was a Bandon’d , now daily, for us to get home, he will sit and wait.
We love this little fella, his happy ways give us more than we give.
He learns something new every day. Home is now such a fun place to live.
A bag of lolly pops made us eligible. To those that gave him up we forgive .
Best invisible neighbours, up on the roof play music for followers.
A long beak instrument for the best ears to listen, for lovers that understand the meaning of those notes, played by the nature of every sound that we don' t appreciate anymore.
They are there all the time for blind eyes to see, for deaf ears to hear. Still there playing the same song, following the rhythm of life with us.
We aim for a big mansion and the best cars, when what we really need is a little house and a land with vegetables and fruit trees.
Those trees where we can still find those birds singing for tomorrow and our best neighbours to be in touch forever to be seen.
I’m so out of breath, but I keep pushing as hard as I can,
While my husband just sits there not helping at all.
You’d think after three times, he would understand
That it’s a team effort and he needs to get on the ball.
We’ve come so far, I just can’t believe he won’t help out.
I yell at him like never before, while he sits in that seat.
I can’t do this alone; all I do is scream and shout.
What do I have to do to get him up and on his feet?
I just want to give up and get back to my life, you see.
After hours of pushing, I don’t think I can do this anymore.
Next time, he’s pushing this big beast along, not me.
“It’s time for a new car,” I say, as I slam the door.