Long Befriend Poems

Long Befriend Poems. Below are the most popular long Befriend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Befriend poems by poem length and keyword.


God Is....

"Color me red" this he did say 
                                                  This is Satan and you must obey

                                                  The call of the wild for is it ok?

                                                  Who cares as I destroy the day

                                                  The red you color is from your vein

                                                  The ink that spilled from ever shame

                                                  You raped a child in the name of me

                                                  You will now suffer ever in eternity 

I feel the words escape from your dying breath, "Please Lord dont take it out with 
a noose around my neck" 

For if you kill me you kill your religion, I promise you, if this noose falls through 
the gallow then I will trek

I will find your kind in the after life, even if it down in the basement with your wife, I 
will come and get you

You're the one who told me so, created my mind to enlist your blow, is this a 
reason you are telling me?

That I must not fight but run away in flee? I'm a coward like you, you see, I die for I 
believe in your creed

                                                 "My son you are not one of mine

                                                  I enlist your soul to preach my kind

                                                 You create your own from words of mine

                                                 Now rot in hell for the breach of time

                                                 And conjur a smell to remember your lie

                                                 Befriend your mind as you are left to die

                                                 Alone as you wish for your wish is a cry

                                                You are no longer a part of my embassy

                                                Trade your wings for the treatory that be

                                                For a mask supposed to look like me

                                                Horns for you stab at your constant envy

                                                Dont you ever compare you with thee

                                                For are weak and f&ck all that you percieve
© Penn Kname  Create an image from this poem.
Form:


I also feel blase today February 19th 2024

I also feel blasé today February 19th, 2024

Linkedin to being lax,
and shirking house cleaning tasks,
which negligence cost us
(yours truly and the missus)
a golden opportunity
to relocate to Hillcrest Village
in Boyertown, Pennsylvania
another HUD subsidized property
under the aegis of Grosse and Quade,
one of the larger residential
property management firms
in the Delaware Valley.

Physical unwellness
(insync with racing heart) arose
because Kathleen Bergen
the new property manager
here at 2 Highland Manor
voiced absolute zero positive feedback,
upon taking lock, stock, and barrel
of appalling living conditions,
her blistering vocalization
(from wuthering heights)
translated as a foregone conclusion
against our hopes
pinned on moving into
two bedroom apartment
referenced above topmost lines.

Said plummeted disappointment
(courtesy blunt admission
out the mouth of
(humpty dumpty sat on a wall)
frumpty recent hire
identified in a previous poem
as new warden)
verbosely predicated upon
gross appearance of living space
immediately dashed cautious optimism
citing unkempt state
within no crater than
moonwalking unit b44,
whereby we wished to skadaddle
far away from obligation
to be mindful of rules and regulations
codified within a binding lease.

Unlikely home ownership
will ever come to pass,
nor the lesser prospect
to rent more spacious domicile
larger than a one bedroom apartment,
no bigger than a bread box
den me and the missus,
(a hen pecking spouse)
might befriend Bugs Bunny,

who might guarantee
adequate sized rabbit hole
constituting large enough wonderland
receiving stamp of approval
courtesy Alice in Chains
subsidized lodging money back
plus additional warren tee
granted by Mister Michael Fox,
who took me back to the future,

when the pace of life
plodded along at leisurely rhythm.
Only within outer limits 
realm of twilight zone,
where dark shadows
inch along edge of night
(while two thumbs and index finger
belonging to separate good sports
grab hold the furcula

(or wishbone) structure
formed by the ventral fusion
of the right and left clavicles
and the median interclavicle
silently mouth invocation)
holds at bay, the inexplicable phenomena
moored, harbored, and docked
awaiting lucky recipient,
whose merrythought bestowed
upon he/she, they/them.

Special Needs Parent

A note to all the new parents of special needs babies?
Hello New Mom,
Congratulations, you are now part of a world where there is exquisite beauty.
Along with that beauty will come a hardship few can expound on. You are in the circle of a chosen few..... who become the warriors.
You will see and hear challenges you have not heard of.
You will beam with joy at the most basic skills accomplished. You will be the biggest fan EVER .
Your love for your child will endure you through all the tasks ahead.
You will be holding your breath without even knowing it and break into tears at the drop of the hat. You will think you just can't do it..but somehow you will find it in you to continue.
You will see your other children step up and advocate for their sibling and be better off because of it.
Your other children will astound you with their love and patience.
You will see the worst in humanity with stares and unkind words spoken and although it's extremely painful you will learn to push through at those times.
You will be their advocate forever.
You will be the fierce mama bear ready to swipe your claws at anyone who says "No" it just can't be done.
Each miniscule accomplishment your child masters is your accomplishment too.
The gentle pureness and childlike ways of your child will make your heart sing with joy.
You will get to know names of specialists like endocrinologist and speech pathologists and be waiting in Doctor offices more than you will want to.
You will learn of orthotics and how to use them.
You will become a Physical therapist and a Occupational therapist without the degree.
You will know that " failure to thrive" isn't so scary and you will learn to feed your child through tubes if it has to be done.
You will learn to depend on all the therapists and Special Ed. Teachers and learn to love them like your family.
You will learn along with your child.
You will know sadness and loneliness of a parent of a special needs child.
You will learn that there is a vast storage of knowledge and love and understanding with the seasoned parents.
Befriend them, join Facebook forums they are your support. Theses groups are strong because they hold each other up.
You will know love so deep and pure it amazes you.
You will become a proud parent and warrior of the most gentle soul you will ever have the honor to call your child.
Form: Ballade

Premium Member Sassy

She was alone in the pen at the end
visibly frighten
Shaking like a leaf
wanting reprieve
So young a volunteer stay by her side
If she could she would of cried
It was free adoption day
and the dogs knew they were on display
Barking loud and clear
someone take me out of here
But she so shy and scared
she seem to need so much love and care
The little dog spoke to my heart
so with her I did depart
Adopting her that day
she was bewilder and afraid
A friend  drove us home
I held her so precious to own
She cling to me so tight
Celeste her name seem right
Calm and peaceful and shy
With my two old boys would she survive
Finally at home we arrived

Ghengis waiting at the window was barking with joy
for his master was home such a happy boy
I placed her in a fence area and closed the screen door
I let my boys out and they were shocked and floored
What was this new dog and why is she here
I let them be together but the boys showed fear
She tried to sniff them but they ran away
I realized of her my old boys were afraid

I let her in the house and she began to run around
the scare little dog was nowhere to be found
Within five minutes she evolved from Celeste to Sassy girl
she was so overjoyed in her brand new world

I had to catch her and bathe and clean her good
Gave her a treat she was home understood
She ran and jumped for joy and with the boys tried to play
but each time the fat boys would run away
Now Kublia who wants to befriend every dog a stray
whenever they are at the fence between it they do play
They bark and run along it, sniff and wag their tails
but with little Sassy Kublia heads for the hills
And mighty little Ghengis with anger always on display
with his new sister Sassy he shys away
It was so wonderful for Sassy to come out of her shell
I thought it would be weeks employing all my skills

She slept with me that night laying next to my side
the boys fled under the bed stayed there to  hide
Sometimes she softly whimpers as the boys run away
It will take time before the old boys get comfortable enough to play
We were three bachelors living in our house alone
now we have our Sassy girl to make it a home
She is sweet and funny and has energy all day
Lively and cute she's in my heart to stay
My new big puppy is our Sassy girl
upside down she playfully has turned our world.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Wake Asia Wake - Part One - 9

Make haste to befriend the toro meanly reared away from spectator prying eyes
         by dread alone the bull is nurtured and prodded to terrify
         and when at last the ranchero’s silhouette appears in the arena   it charges
                                                                       Wake! India! Wake!
 
There are no greater mysteries than those your scientists can unravel
         the only mysteries that persist are those drummed by priests into your brains
         even a helpless Stephen Hawking can pierce the Aryan mystery by silent reflection
                                                                      Wake! India! Wake!
 
Let those who seek power in the polls seek it for their own sakes
         sooner or later   sooner than later   they too will pass away
         their power gnawing at their bones will feed the etherising flames of their pyres  
                                                                     Wake! India! Wake!
 
Let those who seek to challenge their power challenge it for their own sakes
         they too will rot in the chains they have willingly chained themselves in
         for they too seek power for the sake of power  and for theirs and their own comfort
                                                                       Wake! India! Wake!
 
And let them all pass over you    you who have borne in quiet pain
         mauling   under the pretext of mournful migrations and the Mughal might
         Mohenjodaro and Harrappa   notwithstanding Vijayanagar and Kaveripumpattinam 
                                                                       Wake! India! Wake!
 
Do not for a moment think your sons have deserted you
         nor your daughters gone to spawn with other spouses under other suns
         your needs are their needs  your tears   their blood coursing in their veins
                                                                       Wake! India! Wake!
 
If you had woken up earlier to tend to your shores  to tend to the marauders at the border
         letting only the lone Kshatriya exert his martial art  abused by fine courtly comfort
         you would not now wonder how a Rajput court at Mewar drove Akbar to such lengths
                                                                      Wake! India! Wake!
 
(Continued in Part One - 10)
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.


Echoes in the Shadows

Gazing up at the dark and grey sky,
While Sparkling drizzles adorn the earth,
Calmness filling up as time goes by,
And the drops trickle down the hearth.

I settled down to cherish the serene blues,
Engaged deeply in its scenic imagery,
Which brings back the echoes and views,
Of my tender and dreamy childhood memory.

Several scenes vividly playing through my mind,
And various conversations echoing inside,
Leaving me restless with a whole new find,
Urging me desperately to travel back and confide.

If only I could go back in time,
Yearning to meet my younger self once more,
For it's not a sinful fault or malicious crime,
I would teach her many things in store.

First, I would delicately take her in my embrace,
And softly stroke the strands of her hair,
Assuring her that she made it through the chase,
Not giving up even in her darkest despair.

I would shower her with a treasure of rewards,
For being kind and helpful to others around her,
Also telling her not to forget the regards,
And to be kind to herself despite any blur.

I would take her to mountains and rivers,
For they could make an inseparable bond together,
As they stand by her in the toughest quivers,
And would support and befriend her forever.

I would describe to her the profound joy,
Of achieving her precious visions and dreams,
The deepest connections woven in her heart's ploy,
While reaching for those priceless fantasies.

I would prepare her to face the worst,
While trying to be brave and consistent,
Throughout her valuable self-exploration quest,
And would teach her to be strong and confident.

I would teach her the essence of euphoria,
In every small and tender delight,
From the warmth of those close to her aura,
That would ease her pain and make things right.

At times when people would disown her,
Judging her efforts and attempts,
I would teach her to trust herself and persevere,
To move on and achieve her greatest triumphs.

When life seems tough with each passing second,
I would ask her to remember my guidance,
That would keep her going till the end,
Without too many regrets and hindrances.

If only I could go back in time,
Wishing to make her stronger than ever,
For it's not a sinful fault or malicious crime,
That would help her surpass her struggles forever.
Form: Rhyme

Sitting On the Grass

Young man sitting next to me 
        on the grass,
            I asked him,
If I am depressed can you help me?
         I heard his voice, 
I will expect you to feel alive 
     never look back 
   go on with your life
  I'll bring you back home
  and will never leave 
        you alone.

When I am chilly young man?
 will you cover me 
   with your coat 
protect me from thunder 
       and rain?
I will carry you under the tree
shield you till the sunrises.

Young man, I lost everything 
and I am trying to survive,
      will you help me? 
I will reason with you 
as some things in life are made
      not to last forever.

Young man if I am crying 
 as I live daily only 
      as an image
walking dead as a tool 
  which makes me feel 
      like a fool?
 I will wipe your tears
     embrace you, 
search for a way to please you
    and make you proud
        of who you are.

Young man if I need a friend 
   how will you help me? 
I will befriend you forever,
  lean towards sharing, 
consent to create a harmonious
 lovable atmosphere 
     till you sense never
        be solo again.

Young man if I want to kill myself
 as my injuries can never heal
 it's my soul's wounds
    what will you do? 

I will forbid you to do that,
but enforce you to predict 
     your happiness
use your vigor to promote
      your emotions
 steal success
    and throw away failure. 

Acknowledge your age 
      to improvise
what is best for you,
 as looking backwards 
can have an impact 
     on your life.

     Young man,
 I need my children
    I live in agony 
an era that seems seamless 
     without them.
Inform them to grab me away
  as my heart is heartless
        unstable. 

   Beg them to stand by
to pick up the broken pieces
 before it is irreparable.
 Will you do that for me
    young man?
Yes, I guarantee
they will rescue you
   before dawn.

My friend young man
get me off the grass, 
walk me to the bank,
     please. 

Arrived at the bank 
 holding his hand 
she asked the teller
to bring out her
  last 20$.
 
    This is for you 
to thank you for sitting
 on the grass with me.
    
       Young man 
your image will be engraved
    in my heart,
        forever.


 Therese Bacha
    17/3/2018

Unsettling premonition kickstarts fiendish abomination

Unsettling premonition kickstarts fiendish abomination

Consider the following 
dogmatic, enigmatic, fantastic, 
idiotic, jargonistic, kimetic, linguistic,  
narcissistic, opportunistic,
poetic, quixotic, rhapsodistic, 
scholastic, transformistic, 
universalistic agglomeration
as an abbreviation
overactive imagination
wrought demonic manifestation

unaware reading dictionary
could engender garrison housing
Century 21 ghostly conjuration
paranormal shenanigans this
Lake Wobegon resident
grudgingly attests perturbation
disembodied spirit betook
(analogous to Casper
the friendly ghost)
"FAKE" spooky introduction

primarily cause ethereal
phantom of the opera mine
diaphanous doppelganger actualization
forcing agonizing confrontation
blindly highlighting spectacular illumination
constituting undeniable declaration,
whereby stagnant existence
aligned stark juxtaposition
courtesy faux charade, escapade, facade...,
gimcrackery literary affectation

yielded (still does) negation
to befriend prospective logophile,
essentially begetting immediate amputation
as posited a posteriori said acquisition
regarding, kneading, experiencing...
inclusiveness feeling reviled discrimination
foisted linkedin with nonestablishmentarian
progressive, liberal, agnostic Unitarian
paradigm upbringing birth parents
decreed ideal articulation

to foster independent cogitation
among yours truly, and his two sisters,
at one time felt veneration
marble lustrous bead
felt towards (guess who) second born
only brother gifted with affliction
diagnosed recent as
schizoid personality disorder,
a mental health condition,
whereat emotional affinity

toward kin folk sundered
buzzfeeding self cannibalization
predicated on inchoate
in utero causation
insync with adaptation
(actually Putin on Ritz key conspiracy
incorporating Russian collusion)
in tandem with basket of deplorables
little rock and rolling 
witnesses regeneration

frothy heady windblown
dyed in wool Taj Mahal size
pompadour toupee coronation
ego freezing troll defies decapitation
barley bubbling within hopscotching
mucky swamp characterization
capital hillbilly Phoenix 
resembling archeopteryx alights
shrill screeching, digging lame talons
into trumpeting paunchy underbelly.

The Song of David

Enlighten days have past
He comes excel in all, so he thinks
"I am greater than man,
I know what ignorant man does not.
Come to me for knowledge unsurpassed!".
He points to the blue heaven,
"Where is thy wisdom? For I know all.
Where is thy command? That makes the ground shake
And brings forth water that lives?"

At the great gatherings,
He flocks the shepherds, blind, mute and deaf  
He answers to the multitude of questions
He asked the shepherds, "but what are thy questions?",
“I know not what do ask a man of your wisdom, but what  is a dream?
What is life?” asked the young herdsman.
"I know not what you speak of", said the Man.
"I only know what i can feel, touch and see"

"A dream is dream that passes us by, like gentle breeze of fresh spring.
Life holds all things mystery and doubts.
Shepherd knows to flock, not life or dreams".
"The shepherds are those who are humble, noble one", said the herdsman
"The blind cannot see, the mute cannot speak and the deaf cannot hear".
"Who are you preaching to? Silent and amaze, the man looks on.  

"If the blind could see you, 
They would say, 'look here is the man who tried to humble the blind
For they can see what others cannot,
If the mute could speak, they would humble you!
And if the deaf could hear they would shamed your wisdom".
"Was I a fool?" said the Man "or are you not that young herdsman?
Who knows nothing of life and passes his days tending the sheep's?
What could you learn from such simpleton life?"

"Life I live is simple indeed, 
No one knows that the shepherds are those who protects the weak"
"Nature is a friend of the shepherd; we sing the song of David
And rubs the olive oil to our young sheep, to keep away the flies".
Insulted, the man's fury turns over to the young herdsman
"Nature? Protect the weak? The song of David? Flies?
How can nature befriend a lonely shepherd? Protect who?
Song of David the Shepherd who became the king? 
What flies would harm the young flocks?"

The young herdsman smiled at the frown face of the man,
Left without a word
The blind, the mute and deaf ignored the man.
An unyielding shame kept the man humbled
He wonders why the young herdsman smiled about.
He came about a bridge and crossed the rocky roads
On the hill top he stood 
And saw the young herdsman singing the Song of David.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Van Gogh

Decades of a formula that only he knew about it and drew,
Cascades of his artwork came to a head in his last years,
Glissades of a swan in a lake that only a handful had seen,
Tirades made its mark on him, distant from fellow peers.

~~[Van Gogh]~~
Impressed of his art garnered some interest in his style,
Oppressed, a constant companion only he can befriend,
Obsessed by what he drew insanely violent he withdrew,
Distressed he found salvation in asylums to not descend.

~~[Wheatfield With Crows]~~
Crows, black gawking, feed in a meadow ache for harvest,
Know that art needs to be made, scheme food for thought,
Those sinister birds, a murder of crows festering the grain,
Throes a fit mocking 'em, flys, pained him more than aught.

~~[Starry Night]~~
Bleak sky of blues, stars gave rise to a miracle been made, 
Streak of a sprawl unfurls his heavens tethered madness,
Speak not lest he loses his concentration, maintains focus,
Meek town his groundwork, lofty jewel amidst the sadness.

~~[Bedroom At Arles]~~
Red, that laid on a bed, table, chairs, paintings on the wall, 
Said was where he severed his ear, water bowl mirror hung,
Head bandaged where he bled, he does a self-portrait of it, 
Deadman walking, Gauguin part ways, no song to be sung.

~~[Self-Portrait Bandage Ear And Pipe]~~
Drew closer, when they were both young, be such friends,
Few friends Van Gogh had, Gauguin was at that moment,
Grew apart after Vince shaving Paul, Vince wanted to hurt,
Knew time together was getting just a bit grave and potent.

~~[House At Auvers]~~
Return to Arles made Van Gogh happy for good times there, 
Upturn spirits was a rarity, too few and far in the middle,
Discern with him was questionable because he's unstable,
Concern for his good, art kept him busy, else is second fiddle.

~~[Doctor Gachet]~~
Fields back of the house, a pistol, he plans to shoot himself,
Wields his pistol, shoots, nobody hears, years gun lays hidden,
Yields his brother Theo to his side as doctor aides him little, 
Shields truth futile, his art was world-renown, dies bedridden.
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lento

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