Long Box Poems
Long Box Poems. Below are the most popular long Box by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Box poems by poem length and keyword.
Acquainted with love again
I soon recovered from past pain
I met this goddess in a tight black dress
I peaked Kilimanjaro, at the sight of her, I must confess
We exchanged digits and addresses too
She said she loved me and I said “I love you”
Problem is that she lived in the far away
But I said I got to have her as she left with a hypnotic sway
So, you guessed it, I placed in a box my healed heart
It was as good as new and wouldn’t break apart
Sent it to her overseas by FedEx
Yep I was horrified at what happen next
The bloody plane crashed in the sea
With a lone survivor, nobody knew where he could be
I hear the sod washed up on an island beach
My heart was drenched in tears and out of reach.
However, the boxes all wash up on the shore
The bugger ripped them open but mine he kept aside on the floor
Every box he ripped I felt it in my chest
I silently said please, not the one with the gold crest
Anyway I think he was feeling what I was going through
As he developed a pain in and didn’t know what to do
The pain was severe, a bloody tooth ache
Which the poor bugger knocked out with the blade of an ice skate
My heart was telling him what to do
And he knew that this box was now important to him too
Eventually he mustered the courage to leave the island on a raft
Which took him some time to build but mastered the craft
When he left the island he took the box his ball friend, Flintstone
And started adrift with a hope to see home
A ship found him passed out floating on the sea
With a box tightly gripped for her from me
They dropped him off in the town where my heart was to be
And he made sure he delivered it himself you see
But a week later I received a box with a note
That sank my heart and choked my throat:
“I love you my Sidney but your love was too late”
“I finally received it but I couldn’t wait”
“I have married now and I hope you did too”
“I return your heart and remember that I love you”
So if you were ever wondering what was in that FedEx box
It was my broken heart wrapped in a pair of warm wooly socks…
The ideas
The challenges
Managed in various ways
Opened to possibilities
From day to day
New thoughts
A creative mind
That time, unwind
Outside of the box
The unthinkable
Positivity
NON-negativity
Success goals and plans
Landed, on great grounds
Plans and goals were found
Where no one ever thought
Risen above, plenty of love
They made it
Was shaded
Moved forward
Was hated
Outside of the box
Much success, nevertheless
Plenty abroad, a lot.
Note: Often times you may be judged. I can say, what GOD has for you it is for YOU. No matter what others have said. The box might have been closed, and shut with a tight lid. But overall, one still made it out.
When you know what you can do and have the faith and courage to move forward. There sometimes might be haters keeping the lid on you, your success, goals, visions, and dreams. I say, trust in Jesus all the way.
Tears where did you come from, down my cheek and off with my thumb, I need a glass of soda and rum. Why did you hurt me so, your leaving was such a low blow, I hate that my crying will show. I placed all my weeping into a golden box, I opened it and I found rocks, Later I found jewels but were they all faux.
After all the crazy years, and all the glasses of beers, I never thought you would leave me sobbing with tears.
Date Written: 7/12/2021
1 Place
Note: I do not drink. I needed the beer word for the write.
The Goblins Jewel Box 1 Contest Judged:8/13/2021
Sponsored by:Jack Webster
Catch them when they're young
and shape their tiny minds
by telling them to colour
inside the lines
kids are our precious resource
nurture their dreams for the future
break them on the wheel of control
and kill the spirit destroy the soul
conditioned at an early age
they'll be at a loss
when they're told to think
outside the box
complicit in your conspiracy
avoiding confrontation
it's not a guiding hand
it's manipulation
you can't squeeze a square
peg into a round hole
they are who they
are it is what it is
can't pound a square peg
into a round pigeon hole
let them be and mind your own biz
Written: May 27, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Miranda Hawley
****************
Colorful crayons, the dreams of my choice,
Chalk, white, and red allergens hurt my voice.
Young hearts overflow with pristine lifetime,
While learning about our gone past sublime.
Like a box that cradles bright, varied pens,
Transforming basic scenes with vivid stems.
Shades of jade, azure, lavender, and gold,
Turquoise whispers like oceans, calm and bold.
Purple colors absorbed me as a child,
Soft blue calmed all the troubles of my mind.
Yet I shun the red; the shadow it casts,
Recalls too well the echoes of the past.
Same as how crayons fit in their holder,
I give each dream its special space folder.
This box sits on the windowsill
And few stop to open it
And look inside at the trinkets
That I placed so very neatly
My box sits waiting
But those who pass see no value inside of it
And the ones who open it take the brightest baublez
And leave dried leaves in their place
Our box was closed
Only opening for the very best memories
But then I see I am the one opening it
Not that traveler that promised me more
What box is this?
That hurts me
And has scratches
And hurts itself
But I'm still leaving it out hoping a wind of change blows
And I hope you
Kind and warm passerby
Will help me open it once more
I am getting older now and live alone but for the company of a blue and gold macaw named Sweetheart who inspired me to write the poem 'The Box' for her birthday.
I raised this happy bird from a baby and in spite of my shortcomings, she has grown in size and virtues of vigilance, honesty, bravery, tenacity, adaptability, forgiveness and the skill of flight.
Now as she greets me each morning I am humbled by her vigorous love of life and as we stand at the window and she calls out, I cant help but wonder if the sound reaches beyond the distant hills to a place where it is still the morning of life. A place where the macaws of the Amazon come together in a cacophony of living rainbows with voices that echo as if nature had intended to speak. It must be there in these wild cathedrals that the sights and sounds arrest the mind in silent invocation, and hold transfixed in wonder, all who witness.
The wild macaws are still with us as we nightly visit them in sleep, but they are somewhere off in the distance now, traveling toward an empty horizon as are she and I.
Dreams in various colours emerge from the night,
They escape the gloomy room,
Hoping to find expression in the light,
Desiring to awaken and bloom.
Dreams trapped in a box don’t tell a story,
They don’t sing a song,
They can never reach the heights of glory;
In the veiled, they belong.
The beauty of diversity lies in varied aspirations,
Time-bound and moving like ticking clocks,
Heralding blossoming inspirations,
But how do we hope when they lie in a box?
Dreams are like birds eager to see the bright sky;
Like blooming flowers, when kept in a box, they eventually die.
June 5, 2025.
There's a little box found in my room,
With heartfelt memories, I won't open soon.
A box of pictures, to reminisce.
They break my heart, it's you I miss.
Portraits of my little girl, When daddy
left, it pained her world.
Oh my precious, I'm deeply sorry,
for hurting you, and causing worry.
A separation that brought you pain,
I wish my love that I could change.
A love a father deeply feels,
I pray in time, your heart would heal.
The years are missing, they pass on by,
I call no answer, there's no reply.
There is a blame I hold inside, and
sadly know the reason why.
There's a little box found in my room,
full of heartfelt memories I won't open soon.
I have a box of sadness
that I keep upon a high shelf
an old and tattered pretty box
worn from being opened
looking inside with falling tears
I see all my collected sadness
in that box dwells my pain, grief, and sorrows
I have put my memories inside
and closed the lid real tight
until I must remember
then, I take the box down from that high shelf
touching it tenderly I remember
and slowly open up the lid
looking inside at all my sadness
I weep for all the hurts within
_____________________________
March 03, 2023 (Repost and Edit)
Poetry/Free Verse/my box of sadness
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1529-202-03
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Submitted into the Premiere contest, STRAND PREMIER No 1194
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 03/05/2023