Long Baggage Poems
Long Baggage Poems. Below are the most popular long Baggage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Baggage poems by poem length and keyword.
In a dream, beneath Columbus' watchful gaze,
Where the capitol’s dome with the blue heavens waltz,
Strolling alongside the Governor, in harmonious ways,
Our footsteps chanced upon the city's hidden vaults.
Dusk beckoned, a murmur urging us to roam,
Cleveland, my home, through the fantasy did thread,
First adrift, then guided by heart back home,
A train missed, the voyage's lament, a path of dread.
Another locomotive, with heartbeats encased in metal's hold,
My briefcase and luggage, on the platform abandoned in the frost,
A conductor’s poetic words, let go of your baggage, be bold,
Tales of life's loads, and the art of releasing what's lost.
Halted, the train on destiny's meticulously drawn line,
A voyage through life, where loss and blessing entwine,
At every halt, a lesson, an opportunity to align,
Where dreams and reality, over time, combine.
people like you
always come with
excess baggage,
also known as
EGO.
people like you
carry around
a portfolio
of empty promises,
always flaunting
who you think
you are
because of what
you possess,
the things
that you think
give your life value.
people like you
always come with
excess baggage,
also known as
EGO.
So why would
I be
impressed.
You don't get it
do you?
I am a whole woman,
why would
I want to involve
myself
with half a man.
You see,
a man who
has morals
a man who
has standards
a man who
can't even spell
the word
unfaithful because
it's not in
his vocabulary,
that's the man
I admire.
people like you
always come with
excess baggage,
also known as
EGO.
It's all about you
and what you
have.
The man I desire
has inner qualities
that
are priceless,
and in
my opinion,
this makes him
rich
and worth getting
to know better.
people like you
always come with
excess baggage,
also known as
EGO.
I am not
impressed with
your
bling bling,
because
let's face it,
all that glitters
ain't gold.
I am not
impressed with
how many assets
you have,
because
let's face it,
material possessions
come and go.
But what
impressed me,
is someone
who has zero
EGO,
and has his priorities
in order.
This is why
I avoid,
people like you.
10/7/12
---------------------
There is a multitude around the world preparing for God’s Kingdom
And there is one dark enmity preparing as well
Combatting this powerful being’s influence and persistence
Is like going against a strong ocean current during a blistery storm
Satan the devil has blinded the world
How then can we help others see the light?
God reveals through the Word something unsettling
He reveals that there will be many readily embracing
The very enemy himself
Be aware of the darkness and its devices that destruct
Many will fail to realize who is the hero
Turning to the very one that will tear them apart
There will be baggage in the millennium
The multitude will have the authority to teach
To take away the blinds from the clouded, deceived eyes
Of billions
We continue on now
We take action now
For the sake of all of those now and onwards
*inspired by John Goodwin*
B/W Dreamed In Color
by Odin Roark
Shrapnel shards
Split the silence
Tainted metallic taste
Blood of nightmares
Cascading down mountainsides
One’s piled baggage
Soil of growth
Mulch of waste
Rebirth abounding
Budding predilections
Trying to so hard
So hard
So goes the night
When escape holds court
Judging not the guilty
But sentencing the exonerated
The innocence of B/W
Trying so hard
So hard
Toward one’s dawn
Black works its way
Finding gray
Merging dreams seeking forgetfulness
Stirring colors
Any colors
Urging blurred memories
Into fall carpeted tundra
The mind’s preparation
For the deep freeze
Of cyclic wisdom
Awaits mere compliance
To allow the perfection of rhythm
Yet we try so hard
So hard
B/W knows color
Needn’t be dreamed
For like the rainbow’s dispersion of light
The heart’s luminescence
Remains composed of emotion’s wavelengths
Conscious spectra seeking continuum
How foolish to live only life’s B/W
Yet at times
How coerced our hearts become
Hampering imagination’s purpose
To allow
B/W to be dreamed in color
Tears of gory guilt
Run down my bark, a nectar
For the nightingale
No where to hide now
The sheer shame embraces me
Don't know what I know
Fears of warriors
In freeless tree forever...
Their eyes carved outside
Pupils follow me
Wherever I roam...you see?
Not a sparkling sea...
Embark me surreal
Feed me your sweat..your labor.......
Place my silver soul right there
The atmosphere bleeds
With the fear of ancestors
Eyes do shine - you're mine
The trees' irises
Project all shades of blue...green...
Let go of baggage
Your hues blend with theirs
Hues that are all but true
Throw off your loads... cares...
Arrow pierces heart
Strikes me that it gets chopped down
Into flames of...art...
Reality's demise
Ends here in this fantasy...
A wise world that sees
In vain, I weep green
The tears I shed is their sun
I welcome the moss
Foolishness of men -
That bogus gets left behind
Thieves get caught...they rot...
Grow upon me, weeds
Flowers and alike - come here...
Bushes sway...breeze strays
The morbid moon shines
Like the rest of the planets
Stars refuse to blink
As Hard as a rock,
I spiral to and fro...oh...
My mind's a black hole
They long for humans
To love them...they can't function
When they produce shame
Alas, neglected
Profuse remains buried...naught...
Passed away...infected
On the sixth day of April typhoons churning and brewing came my way this year,
Winds of change came to my doorstep spitting and spewing fear.
They rocked me for some days as I walked my life’s calm beaten path,
Only God’s grace guided me patiently and safely through it’s wrath.
New lands ahead,
As ordained and said….
With mutant baggage of pain etched past well past behind me,
Doorways of yesterday shut on the threshold of a new dimension, the past never to see.
Always believed when you close the door behind you,
Will open plenty ahead of you anew…….
Now I reckon the only way is to move ahead,
Burning destiny’s dhows in troubled waters have now fled….
Now that I have a new cause to base my work upon,
Strange and quaint feelings I have no more to bear on…..
I now live my moments with fun and joy,
It is my heart mind and their creative power’s only for me to deploy….
Today spills over and tomorrow it comes and goes,
My mind its craving to innovate it only grows.
Cheer filled emotions now feverously churn within me
The peace and tranquility of my mind glows my face for all to see.
With this opportunity as high as the sky,
I will make the phenomenal change blue and azure high.
Smile and take my setbacks in my strides and walk the miles ahead,
Will rise and shine to sharpen myself in the new role with happiness embed……………
By: SASHI. PRABHU (ZEAUOXIAN)
I teeter on the brink of possibility.
The sun on the new horizon glistens
its rays on the undulating sea of change.
I gaze a while, drifting with a squawking gull,
or diving with a hunting cormorant -
lost in my imagination, caught in plausibility.
Sometimes a gust of wind unsettles my balance;
I totter into uncertainty, struggling to stand,
but you take my hand and steady me.
Now I only look ahead; no way back.
The chasm is inviting me to jump;
to take a leap of faith and ditch the doubt.
I place my baggage at my feet;
packages of responsibility and confusion
tucked in neatly and nestling with the past.
One last tug at the sleeve of my coat
as they make a last ditch attempt to restrain me,
and I have jumped - flying through the air, free.
As I land I see you there smiling and safe,
arms outreaching. The promise of the future beckons,
and looks inviting, exciting and full of hope.
Once I teetered on the brink of possibility
now it is a glistening reality. The sea is calm now.
And, as the sun sets on the horizon, I am home.
(note: to all my lovely friends who thought I was literally considering leaping into a chasm to
my death, I can assure that I am most certainly not!!! It is merely a metaphorocal chasm,
and I intend to stick around for quite a while yet. Heavens, I am just about to have a book
published, life is very good! Thanks so much for your concern though)
They call you my ex—
like you were just another chapter,
just another name to forget.
But how do I forget
the girl who made forever feel real?
You weren’t my past.
You were my present,
my always.
The one I whispered dreams to at 2 AM,
the one I laughed with
until my ribs ached and my guard fell.
They say time heals.
But time can’t touch the parts of me
that you etched your name into.
It doesn’t erase your voice
from the corners of my mind,
or your touch
from the quiet spaces of my heart.
I still carry you—
not like baggage,
but like a scar I’m proud of,
because it means I once loved deeply,
and maybe,
was loved too.
So no—
you’re not my ex.
You’re the one I still write about
in the silence,
the one I reread like a story
that never got its final page.
And maybe… just maybe…
some stories are meant to find their ending
in the second draft.
Yours,
Always,
Me
Just one copy left. I'd soon picked, 'My village',
A renowned book of charming verses for the young;
Much loved for illustrations and lucid language,
And Rhythm such - every line could be easily sung...
Though I should be the owner of, 'My village',
When Lucy, my elder, just established her right;
Dad gave her the book and as though great privilege,
Gave me chocolates. I meekly forgot our fight...
When father went to towns, cities on his business,
My mother, our little home, lovingly managed;
Lucy established her rights, but, now with calmness,
Yet, often to tease me, new rhymes she recited.
It's then when a little tall and fat we'd now grown,
And had more thoughts to think than mere, 'My Village';
The innocence of our childhood like dew-drops gone,
Life got monotonous like a normal voyage...
----
That day Lucy recited rhymes in a full chain,
Like, longing to tell us all her philosophy;
And collapsed. They had found, 'hemorrhage in her brain'.
Lucy, soon, undertook her Eternal Journey.
----
Rituals, done; pains, undone; seated on our yard,
Father brought out, Lucy's Sachet - just small baggage;
With her tiny vanities - paint, brush, and note-pad...
Wrapped well in a satin cloth was, 'My village'.
On its first recto page, her own scribbling written:
'Brother! Not of malice! I did it for fun! Love you!'
I did hide, yet my tears flew like a dam broken,
Lucy, 'My village’, each moment, I'm missing you...
14th May 2021
He Gave Her A Book Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Do you ever feel like you’ve lost who you are
misjudged others by oh so far
gaining perspective becomes so hard
thinking you’re someone to disregard
Growing up you fell out with your friends
at school unliked no one to depend
no one close there to the end
though not hated drove them round bends
And you start to see yourself an outcast
games where they pick teams you came last
now lonely days go by fast
becoming a lost soul in cast
When you’ve no one to turn to
and can’t start new
When you’ve no one concerned for you
What do you do
I’m lost I’m confused I really need you
whoever you are please come through
I’ve considerately looked out for a few
I’ve lost it all now though what do I do
It dawned on me I’m often rejected
From young to now like an infection
haunted as though natural selection
dumb lowbrow knows only ejection
I wonder what they thought of me
2 faced friendships forge on me
I wonder why they thought of me
a face too hit unfortunately.
This mountain of doubt pulls down in me
take a chance avalanche
climb the tree break a branch
with every missed advantage
I gain baggage and a bandage
man up stand tall but I’m minuscule
Crawling through cruelty
caught up failing faulty
I’ve lost my way I can’t see before me,
Just one to come and care for me
like I cared so unselfishly
support by standing there with me
save me with your company
Save me please just come for me
Save me please would somebody