Long Backgrounds Poems
Long Backgrounds Poems. Below are the most popular long Backgrounds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Backgrounds poems by poem length and keyword.
Richard Lamoureux-figured out
Richard Lamoureux,
even his name speaks of love.
The LOST AND FOUND kind of love
The kind of love that can contemplate
THE EDITING OF ME.
Richard is a true realist, never MINCING WORDS,
he says it like it is, but with a kind manner.
He is LISTENING FOR A CHANGE, because that
is what BEING HUMAN is all about,
and that's what he does best.
HIS HUNGER is for truth and justice,
with a little SWEET SCOUNDREL LIES,
thrown in the mix.
WHAT YOU DON'T SEE in his words,
are THE LOVELY BONES, RUNNING AT THE SPEED OF LIFE!
Richard wants to CHANGE THE WORLD, and the key he has,
IMBEDDED IN PAGES, so it's a little hard to find.
Richard always asks WHERE DO POETS GO?
I don't know where he is now,
but I DO know he was, on the SKYTRAIN,
BUT HE'S NOT SHOPPING.
I know, because he came home with a CUP OF EMPTY,
maybe that's how he knows that BIG GIRLS DO CRY!
Richard and I share similar backgrounds,
and we yearn for the same things,
a fathers love for example.
We, KEEP TRYING TO REACH
BEYOND WHAT WE HAVE REACHED,
TRYING TO GRASP THE MAGNIFICENT.
If we keep trying, Richard, maybe there will be
LIGHT SUSPENDED, ABOVE FOREVER, for us.
October 16,2016
Got you figured out contest
10 Poems That Define Me
Yvonne’s Swan Song – Narrative poem dedicated to all victims of bullying, including girls and boys of all ages, sizes, and backgrounds, including me!
Paralyzed – Dedicated to my father, who had 3 strokes leaving him totally paralyzed for 7 years before he died.
My Amazing Week on the Farm – Pastoral poem that describes life lessons learned during an amazing week when I was 15-years old.
Vanessa’s Song – This poem was written for our dear friends after their 16-year old daughter, Vanessa, committed suicide.
Please Sir – Beautiful downtown Atlanta is the scene for this true encounter for which I am still ashamed after 25-years.
Castles in the Sand – Narrative poem with a moral lesson that keeps me focused on making sure of the more important things in life.
Nasty Panda – A flight of fancy to show my lighter side, and I am not talking about weight!
Green Eggs, Spam and Grits – My Southern-style tribute to Theodor Seuss Geisel, a.k.a. Doctor Seuss.
Love Immutable – The culmination of what I have learned as a husband after forty-six years of marriage.
My Memories – This poem expresses our concern over age-related memory loss, and my prayer that our memories stay fixed and true.
Walking into the garden there is no light except the one coming from the moon. A reflection of the light from the sun returning to the earth in a calming kiss. A kiss calming the land from the burning heat of the day. Both light forms cannot allow life to exist without the equilibrium.
A kiss from the moon lights the internal flame of this Scorpion.
A kiss that gives the mind the opening curtains of Opera and the flame inside the Scorpion.
The Flame in the Mirror will be stronger for the Scorpion.
They say that love is blind when it comes at a time of mystery. So is the garden of where the flame comes alive, first by the moon and then from the passion of the man. It is still coming alive as a lightning bolt lights a nearby tree on Fire. It is not consuming the tree as the man is walking forward as if a voice is calling him.
At first fear is guiding him forward into a fight manner.
Second the fear is making him rethink his decision.
Third the fear is making him walk back.
The fire is burning the tree with beauty but is not consuming it. The tree is vibrant. From the tree there comes a voice that is warm. “Do not fear, I am by your side.” The man walks forward and ask who is speaking. “I am the one you seek, and I have been watching over you. You are preparing the banquet. The guests shall keep arriving and will be stunned by the bride.” The man asks when the time will come when the flame shall meet his flame.
Feeling tears of sadness and appreciation makes the man bow.
He has felt like a fool for a long time!
Only a flaming tree of life can cause him to bow!
Especially, when everyone wastes his time!
The voice in the tree is of Allah and says that the time is coming and that the tides will not be heavy to the man as the Lord God is with him. He says that the place is of white and that the people come from diverse backgrounds. A table is presented in the presence of his enemies. Thos that have rejected the man are now shocked and bow their heads in shame. The man does not speak ill of them and only gives them the truth. The truth is power and speaks as a dagger to their hearts.
“You lost faith in me when I would not give you your instant gratification.
The one next to me is my rib and is my delayed gratification.”
Love has been described as a battlefield as it can leave us with scars that can be seen and unseen by others.
Especially when the notes are singing in harmony.
A Harmony that is purely Bella to the fall of the first winter snow.
Snow that calms the hot ground from the heat that escaped the summer and landed into late Autumn.
Both forms of love are based on the unity of love.
Cold and hot cannot exist without one another.
Even when they oppose one another they are still brought together by the Melody and Harmony of music and life.
They are the love born of constant sadness and perseverance of truth.
They come from the unity of two that have different backgrounds that were meant to unify for a complete bliss that begins with four angels, and ends with more bliss.
Nothing can be done as all of the Gods, including the one that is the chief of all has ordained it!
Dance dance
Into a trance
We beat as one
Sexual heat, sexual romance
Love is fire
Love is ice
Only in Trance
Do we feel the romance
We are hot, as we move
In the groove of summer nights
We beat as one
Trance embraced
Dancing loves feeling heat
Released in passions delight
We get hot
We get free ready for flight
In the beat
Musical rhythms
Give us this heat
Love is fire
As we dance this night
We beat as one
Sexual heat, sexual romance
This poem is dedicated to a friend of mine who passed away suddenly, he was a DJ known as DJ Lance Romance. Although many may not relate to this style of music, this DJ was someone who loved life, his kids, and his knowledge of all genres of music was impressive indeed. Music is indeed a bridge that can bring people form diverse backgrounds together, to dance and smile!!
(This time I've quoted my own poem titles. Everything in quotes is a title.)
"Dear reader," again, this monolog persists.
We're no longer "sparring" with figurative fists.
"The blood of an Englishman" is my last token,
"cursive curtsies" for "love unspoken."
"The magic of your arms" is now "unattainable,"
"man glitter"'s sloughing unexplainable.
"Footprints in time" lead to your "home garden,"
now overgrown with common weeds to pardon.
"This is the place" where "pruning" is "timeless,"
and "ballroom backgrounds" are forever rhymeless.
Briars pull me close with roaming stickers.
"The stars in the sky" "wake me" with sharp "flickers."
Doves' worn "coos" sound more like "snoring."
"The shape of water" is a tsunami pouring.
"The balcony bows" like "uncommon courtesy,"
"bolstered" hardwood buckling to be free.
"A safe place to hide" is looking vastly glum.
I cling to the shadows like "coffee table gum."
"Winter contemplations" are an everyday thing,
like "blackout poetry---detached," a missing ring.
"Forsaken" "spiderwebs" hold your "signature scent,"
though they are as broken as bent.
"Winter twigs wither" like a limp "paper boat"
immersed in a "defenseless," old moat.
"All that remains" "for the headstrong and wrong"
is a broken cassette withholding our song.
"I will care for you" like a "scarecrow in still life."
"The widow's pew" has gained a haggard wife.
"Birds through obscurity" perceptively lag.
"Goodbye, love..." I impart to you "freedom's flag."
Don't "call back the curtain" to yesterday.
"Installments of lost time" are impossible to pay.
I'll be as strong and "brave" as the mighty ant.
Then came the "thought thief..." "Will I if I can't?"
"No proper goodbye" would satisfy my "appetite."
A morsel on the path to "winter's endless night."
"Maybe" the "earth meets firmament" on the brink.
A "snow globe refreshment" will be my last drink.
The "typewriter" points "westward," and there it shines,
"clinging to (these last) undulating lines."
9-25-2023
In splendor of meadows gentle winds blow
As traversing high-low mighty rivers flow
And sun never sets as blue skies ever glow--
Seasons bloom there, ample crops grow
And peaceful are domains where birds roam
Devoid of trepidation from famine or foe.
Frolic in playgrounds where children laugh,
Grown-ups always walk tranquil serene paths,
Intellect prevails as wisdom outlaws wars
And across oceans extend gallant helping hands
As enduring love fuels brotherhood at large.
Divine is fortitude of eight billion strong
From all faiths, colors, cultural backgrounds
Striving in unison for solemn human cause:
To rid of what divides--seek common ground.
We trade, we innovate, we build, we believe
We share, we live, let every nation be
We learn, we educate, respect one another
We argue, we listen, and confer with honor--
Such is global paradigm of model new world.
August 12, 2019
Placed 1st: Choose your own title, vol. 7-songs
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh; Song: I believe-Era
I worry for the future
disappointed in these power games
those in charge play yet never suture.
They seem to act maliciously
for the populace but for themselves
they alone are all that matter ambitiously.
What of the common man or woman
the average Jane, Jose, Mark and Malik
who struggle everyday just to be citizen most human?
The power mongers say quite bold and loudly
they feel the heartbeat of the masses
while satisfying their wants unashamed and proudly.
Nothing changes
or if it does it has miniscule effect
evaporating in the non-contritional rhetoric.
Republican or Democrat policies assume
they are truly donkeys and elephants
in the senate and congressional rooms.
Alt rights or alt lefts and conservative liberals
lay in the backgrounds shouting and screaming
foul play as if they were pseudo embedded federals.
All the while these decision makers
grow wealthier hiding their greed
and displaying egos as the sole givers and takers.
I have lost faith's blade
in every word each repetitiously and gratuitously speak
and see the coming years as promise lost to the lathe.
I worry for the futures yet to come
the generations left with this foolishness to expunge
how will history record the age of America undone?
The Poems by Me
If you care to read
Primarily truth
Its histories read
It spreads the wings
Of events past
Some forgotten
Some last
The ones of life
Well it surrounds us all
Some small
Some tall
Erotic and love
Is in us all
Its when to release
And have a ball
Emotions to Inspire
Our hearts will chase
Which ever, wins the race
Is sure to know, it will have it's place
War, mourning and Philosophical
In Generations it affects us all
All my poems, just want to be
To reach the horizons of you and me
Different backgrounds from different faces
Similar themes, similar faces
I thank you all for what you have said
And comments passed, are glady read.
Pine trees mingle into the green
The bonnet is wet with the clouds
Curling roads are full of promise of the joy around the corner
The windscreen and the highlands become twins
Sleepy wipers clear the way for the first sign
"Shinty this afternoon. 2:30pm throw up"
Anticipation and adrenalin become back seat drivers
Shiny streets smile their gaelic welcome
Brick buildings, holy and steadfast announce "you've arrived"
Pubs with antlers on the wall mop up stray pedestrians
Cars, single file and hypnotized
Crawl through the Main Street then turn right
Where they reach the sticky car park with tyre tracks thousands of years old
Misty highland backgrounds give an apostolic reminder of where you are
Then whispers to the locals; "custodian"
Highland glen
Shinty men
Shinty town.