Long Brand new Poems
Long Brand new Poems. Below are the most popular long Brand new by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Brand new poems by poem length and keyword.
never go to sleep on anger
keep the lines of communication open and clear
listen to what each other has to say
even if it's something you don't want or think you need to hear
remember it's no longer only about you
you're not in this all by yourself
you're now husband & wife, man & woman
in sickness and in health
marriage requires a lot of work
so consider this now your primary role
for it takes two to tango
and two halves to make a whole
as a husband Nelson it's mostly up to you
to keep the romance feeling brand new
and as a wife Angel you know your position
is to help Nelson make a smooth transition
you have found your soul mate, you have found your best friend
and may the love and faith you have in each other endure til the end
and just make sure that trust is the glue
that keeps your relationship binding and true
always respect each other and always give each other some space
and never forget to thank God daily for His infinite grace
the Lord has blessed you both with a marvelous love connection
so keep believing in each other and may you have a union just short of perfection
Another day has passed and here I am sitting in the dark waiting for you to come to reminiscence with me in the wavering sun. Days have passed and I have watched evenings melting in the crusty ground and I have to ask myself what wickedness have I done?
The harden tears cannot flow and I am not sure which way to go. The evening gets longer and the night gets shorter and river beyond the hill cannot keep still, water is flowing around and swelling up the entire town and the anxious eyes are waiting around for something dynamic to happen.
I got caught up with the moment when deep reach out to deep and all you can see are the clouds rolling over in the sky and the brand new bullet train clearing the track at one hundred and eighty six miles per hour and the thermostat in the room regulating the heat at one hundred degree Fahrenheit.
And I wait for you to come and sit with me in the sun drenched heat and sip margarita and beer with me in the street and listened to the music rolling with the traffic.
I am waiting for you to come so that we can have some fun
I want to roam the street at nights and watch the ridiculous cock fights
I am waiting for you to come to sit on the steps and watch the moon and the stars romancing with each other and absorb the fragrance from the lavender and listen to the midnight chorus.
Is it melancholy, bitter or sweet? The mercenaries are riding in from the deep? Is it the Silk Road laden with gold or the stock exchange market moving in three fold? As I wait for you to come destiny got up and run and just as I thought everything was dead, destiny sets the world on fire again and there you were standing there.
I took a good look at you to make sure that it is you and there was no mistake in identify, it was you standing there wearing that melancholy shoe with that surprised look on your faces as you walk through the iron gate.
Almost a month since that fateful night
That I was bitten under the full moon's light.
I am still here but with a yearning
And wonder why a fever is burning.
I feel pulled out into the night's air
Hoping that someone will hear my prayer.
I look up into the nights black sky
And realize why I so want to wail and cry.
For there I see the full bright moon
Hanging there like a golden balloon.
As I look I feel like I am on fire
And know my situation is most dire.
Oh god... most agonizing pain!
As my bones begin to strain
And my flesh begins to rip.
I cannot seem to get a grip.
I open my mouth to scream
But from me that does not stream
Tis something that is so foul
As I recognize it is a howl!
Oh god ...this..can't...be
What is happening to me?
Blood pulses through my veins
As new thoughts slam into my brain.
I have a brand new vision
One that gives great precision.
Oh what a great sense of smell
A feeling of anticipation I can't quell.
I can't even believe my new speed
But it is blood that I do so need.
Time for me to go on the hunt
As I begin to run, I let out a grunt.
I stop and sniff as a scent comes to me,
Oh me oh my who is it? Let us see.
I turn in werewolf form to see who is here
As I thought I caught Mr. Loving's fear.
Tis blood that I do need
Time for me to feed.
He senses me and runs away
I smile as I give chase to my prey.
Mortals mortals everywhere
Of all immortals do beware
Run and hide if you can.
On the loose is this very lycan!
Just for anyone's curiosity this is not being mean to Mr.Loving the III this is my respect
for him as he tapped me for the duos and gave me the challenge for the Haunted
Poets....thanks John
Our house sits high upon the harbor hill
On the veranda off the bedroom, I sit up higher still
I look down on the harbor still sleepy from the night
As the first rays of sunshine start bringing her to life
I see lights appear in windows from the houses down below
And headlights from the cars that now have someplace to go
Life moves on in our plush, little, cozy harbor town
In just a few more hours, to her I’ll be coming down
The salt that I taste is not from the distant sea
It’s from individual drops of tears, still flowing out of me
For somewhere in that town, in the direction I refuse to glance
A headstone awaits my darling and our goodbye final chance
School buses appear now winding in the distant streets
Coffee houses open where longtime friends will meet
The earth continues to rotate, bringing on a brand new day
Sitting out here alone and crying will be my new normal way
One lonely, chilly night, I awoke to faintly hear
a rap, rap, rap coming from my front door knocker.
Too curious to ignore, I opened it a crack, and there
stood a man, tall and wan, a strange night hawker.
He wavered as he stood, askew, as quietly he talked
of cemetery plots for sale, not far away, brand new.
With deadpan face and wandering eye, gazed off
with parched cracked lips, he spoke as spittle spewed.
A violent, bloody cough exposed his ills, he swayed
came forward to steady himself, then reached to touch
my arm he grabbed and clutched, I struggled away
then gasped, his foul breath reeked, it was all too much.
Suddenly his frail frame crumpled before my very eyes
he writhed and from his mouth sprang leeches from inside
that attached to me and sucked upon my blood until I died.
As the darken night fades and the daylight hour appears
As I wonder hoping the sun will rise soon
The sunlight glistening down after the moon
Instead the melody of the raindrops against the pane
Shattered is the rhythm of that the rain
This offbeat song that sings off in key
As the sun rises and I open my eyelids
Through the Iris I have a brand new day
Potentially on key the rhythmic tone again and again
Symbolizing the chimes to play that melody
When the rain starts again on the earth triumphantly
That melody plays on and on with each cry from the clouds
Reluctantly in unison freedom from off key
And the joy of love and a new filled day
Broken roles of shattered rhythm on the pane with me.
MY FIRST OF WHEELS
Remember that sense of freedom?
Your keys, you free, in your very own teen-aged kingdom.
If older, like me, seats then, were made of fresh new leather.
Oh, that scent just tickled my young soul like a peacock feather.
You graduated from the bicycle crowd, now.
How regal, you waved like a queen, not having to kowtow.
Able now to choose the radio stations that you really liked.
As you grinned in pride in the mirror driving on the Turnpike.
Boys winked and waved, thought I died and went to heaven!
We all flirted shamelessly and had Slurpies at the 7-11.
Brain freeze, yes, i got many from these.
But really loved boys digging my very cute,dimpled knees.
What a training for the ravenous flirt I grew to be.
Come now~ this was far more fun than any library!
No more crowded buses and dropping books.
That red and white convertible had me totally hooked.
I can still hear the soft sound of the rain on the convertible top.
I wanted to drive my new white-wheeled dream and never stop.
The steering wheel was big, loving and round.
I know I hugged it with love, yet it never made a sound.
This brand new car was a present from my parents, more than kind.
I can still drive it, if only in dreams...it is still utterly divine!
June 24, 2020
11pm PST
Poem # 1,314
In the breathing forest came memories of my youth,
Nothing more than happiness shadowed by the truth.
The rising sun pulchritudinous like the smile on her face,
Let me think of her once more of pure and simple grace.
In the center of the wood lived a solemn rose,
Surrounded by a cruel weed which prohibited it to grow.
The weed was not considerate only thinking of itself,
Hurt the little rose not caring of how it felt.
Now the rose has grown up and overtowers the weed,
Making it undernourished and causing it to bleed.
Through tolerance and patience the rose has been well fed,
And for the spiteful weed, he gained a brand new bed.
Glancing to the falling moon, I've realized what I've done,
I've killed my inner self by following the sun.
I only hope that things will change far before the end,
So that the enemy I have gained will turn to be my friend.
1989
Seventh Place
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 15 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Third Place
YOUR PERSONAL FAVORITE, NO. 2
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
In lands of sun, a city stands apart,
A rare and misty jewel of human art.
Not built on easy plains or common ground,
But where the sea and golden hills are found.
The fog rolls in, a phantom, cool and grey,
To shroud the towers at the close of day.
It moves like the past, through the single gates,
A whispered mystery that the hour waits.
Its hills are vertical, a winding dream,
With cable cars that climb against the stream.
Victorian houses, daubed bright and bold,
A story in each cornice, we are told.
Where tech and grit in restless union meet,
And every vista feels, a brand new feat.
From Coit’s peak to the bridge’s arching wire,
San Francisco sets the rare soul on fire.
A compact wonder, singular and grand,
The rarest city in this western land.
Just a grainy photo
in a missing persons file
A blurry time worn image
of a fading face and smile
Forgotten people through the cracks
have slipped and gone away
By whose hand to God knows where
there is no clue to say
They wandered off the beaten path
into the mists of time
A piece of fruit plucked from a tree
A vanishing, sublime
Some disappearing so complete
as though they never were
The myths and legends they became
our haunted memories stir
Of what befell the missing
many theories abound
like ghostly campfire stories
that keep getting passed around
But they were once like you and I
with lives and plans and dreams
'til something swept them from the Earth
without a trace it seems
And through the years the families
are left with gaping holes
An emptiness the size and shape
of all these long lost souls
And many are the ones whose absence
never will be solved
They took a walk and they were gone
as if they just dissolved
From scientists to engineers
to little girls and boys
whatever snatched them from our lives
no preference employs
And sadly, nearly every day
a brand new face and smile
becomes another photo
in a missing persons file
Mike Wise
11-12-19