Long Bring Poems
Long Bring Poems. Below are the most popular long Bring by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bring poems by poem length and keyword.
Come one, come all, to the grand affair!
The emperor sells his finest robes bare!
After a child called out: "He has no clothes"
What would the crowd bid for those?
The emperor beamed, modelling his finest gown.
Woven in gold thread, with jewels all around.
Silks and satins, woven with skill in fancy seams,
To be auctioned off, as the suit of his dreams.
The crowd cheered, adoring his gall and pride,
While hiding their giggles and snickers aside.
“Such courage!” they cried with a mischievous grin,
To auction off his birthday suit he was born in!
The auctioneer cried: "Now come on what is bid"
For the world finest, in invisible clothes hid.
For these Emperor clothes are fit for a King!
Who knows what fame and fortune they will bring?
The room ignited, the bidding went wild,
As emperor posed, smiled; he was so beguiled!
"Sold!" cried the auctioneer, banging his hammer,
To the nudist, wearing his pride with such glamour.
You were placed on the planet
to write rhymes
but to many times
people tried to fit you
in between their lines
Their prefect pairings
not caring or wanting to be fair or kind
They couldn’t possibly see you
They were bonafide blind
not understanding you
unable to peek into your multifaceted mind
You say “Darkness and Negativity”
But you are starting off in the right place
praying on your knees
No, not needing the societal disease
Who cares if it’s man you please
Only God has the answers
He holds all the keys
He gave us the birds and the bees
and lets us build our houses
out of his trees
Change is coming
I can feel it cold blowing
on the breeze
Maybe God will show us
what He sees
I know sometimes
That mirror feels cracked and broken
The image you see is frozen
Words stuck on the other side of the glass
your reflection has never spoken
When you stare into those eyes
You wonder
What things will be discovered
as your spirit is awoken
Get on the love yourself train
God’s blessed you with a token
Don’t worry, I think all of us
feel incomplete
doing the life sad shuffle
just off a bit by a half beat
yet we get off our asses and repeat
Nothing ever got done
spending to much time in a seat
Get moving guy
bring out those happy feet
You’ve got things to do
and people to meet
Put words down on paper
Take all those thoughts
the good, bad, bold and beautiful
flow-fully fill up that stark white sheet
Like yours “my reality”
is imbedded within my insanity
sometimes I’m the victim
of my own voracious vanity
I think I need to go it alone
While needing something
to fill up this heart cavity
Sometimes I feel like floating far far away
yet I can’t escape emotional gravity
My loneliness is my own preferred prison
I am my own worst enemy
Is this a strange self fulfilling prophecy
Do I need to be separate from society
If so why do I want people to look and see
To read the essence that resides in me
It’s only when I write that I totally feel free
I guess in the end I’m who I am born to be!
Inspired by Christen Foster’s “My Reality” piece.
Join me in welcoming a new poet to our family.
Frenetically I rest in her guest room.
I think of her quiet hospital room.
I’ve laid my head on this pillow before.
I toss, turn, and pray, in this cozy room.
The lamp that’s lit sees the quiver of lips.
The cool sheets rumple my soul in this room.
The morning will bring no kitchen nesting.
Silence of pantry doors - feastless, this room.
Cars leave the driveway while mom’s still alive.
The staff is preparing her hospice room.
The transport holds my heart; mom’s head is bare.
Tender care, support, comfort in the room.
I shared a scintilla of who mom is.
Caregiver softly stroked mom’s brow, in room.
After she passed, saw a tear on her cheek.
Her bones turning to stone in this room.
This daughter remembers the softest hands.
In dream, mom squeezes mine, from heav’n’s room
The Betrayer
Miracle Man
5/7/2023
Words spread fast in a three dog town,
faster than a grass fire on a windy day..
Affecting not only the one taken down,
but collateral damage makes others pay.
For the tongue betrays the heart of man,
and the thoughts that linger there.
From thoughts, all our angry words began,
and are launched by tongue with flare.
Angry words bring to others much hurt,
when forethought was sadly lacking.
Words once spoken,, we can’t divert,
from the ears that we’re attacking.
Matthew 15:18
King James Version
But those things which proceed out of the mouth
come from the heart, and they defile a man.
Whispering wings bring to me life’s great news
Heavenly melodious midst sublime muse
Love of God for me will forever stay
To Him I am drawn by His gracious way
Since He owns me, my heart never leaving
Thus, I yield to HIM; steadfastly cleaving.
Whispering wings carry me toward bliss
Beyond mirth of birth cries mothers can’t miss
The Lord with His covenant care seals me tight
Bound by His faithfulness of mercy’s might
To secure me within His fellowship
Thus, I bask in our sweet relationship.
Whispering wings reverberate blest hope
Comforting me while from trials I cope
Almighty Father grants contentment gain
Abounding with sufficiency reign
Satisfying needs by His fulfillments
Vanquishing dearth toward grateful moments.
Whispering wings relay infinite grace
Assuring Christ’s warm presence of truth-brace
Blazing love divine ceaselessly prevails
Passionately quenching hate's wrathful heat
Since His ardent compassion never fails
Intensifying bitterness' defeat.
Whispering wings propel me to soar high
Ascending with faith’s prayer* I do fly
For spiritual meeting with my Saviour
Imparting divine blessed behavior
Toward pursuits of joyous reaching-out
Sharing His peace that echoes praise-filled shout.
*Philippians 4:6 Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.
January 14, 2022
5th place, "Whispering Wings" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 1/14/2022.
(Free Verse)
Always keep God and family foremost in life
Welcome each person you meet, as a possible friend.
Dance away to the music, of our wonderful world,
And sing along to brighten the chores of a new day.
Take time to dream new dreams, each glorious day.
Remember always to say "I Love You" every chance you have,
And remember to forgive anyone who has wronged you in any way.
Love like there's no tomorrow and be loved the same way,
Aim to bring more joy, minus pain, to anyone that you know.
You must always be honest and true to yourself, first.
Always try and try and never for any reason give up,
Remember, that you're just human, and as such, imperfect and flawed.
Spend some of your time, on bended knees giving thanks to the Lord,
And take pride in anything you've achieved in your life...
Remember to smile and take some time out of your busy life,
And smell all the roses you encounter on your way out.
Hug your family and all your friends in the daily basis too.
And take a little time to rest and to dream of only your Love.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka Ladydp2000
copyright@2001
December,10,2014
Do not ever watch the six o'clock news
If you want to live a carefree life
It'll bring you down, beat the crap outta ya
It's like being stabbed with a knife
Just hearing about all the stuff that goes on
You'll wanna set up camp in the woods
Not a bad idea when you really think of it
Much happier in all likelihood
Now this is turning out to be quite a downer
That was not my original intention
Always think positive is what I usually say
A smile was the greatest invention
I'm sure there aren't many cynics on The Soup
So I don't think this will be scoffed at
Poets have a feel for the right path to choose
The one filled with love jam packed
So do not watch the six o'clock news
It's always about the lunatic fringe
Look at your loved ones and tell 'em you care
Invite them on a friendly love binge
© Jack Ellison 2013
My brother’s book deserves a look
And not just for the time it took,
But for the family tree he shook
To show the need to strive.
His characters are loosely based
On relatives whose lives he traced
From foreign lands ‘til they embraced
New homes when they’d arrive.
The story’s universal, though,
For as they settle and they grow,
We realize how much we don’t know
Of how they did survive.
Most families who did emigrate
Shared hardships and the hand of fate
And often, we learn much too late
What pushed or helped them thrive.
My brother’s book may bring acclaim
And might or might not garner fame,
But if you read From Where We Came*,
His story stays alive.
by Burt Rashbaum
They will nail me.
They will say I committed a litany of crimes.
They will say I loved to the core
Until it drained me of all life in the most natural and deserved way.
I will be the villain if that satisfies the court.
If that suits the verdict I will gladly plead guilt as charged.
My crime I know
Was to love unconditionally.
Fearlessly
And wholeheartedly!
I never wrote her in any poem,
Neither did I have even one picture of her in my wallet.
She meant the world to me.
I did not really care what I meant to her.
Or this love
Or my words.
I was content with her smiles when they came my direction.
Even when I knew they were not for me they made my heart jump.
I enjoyed blowing her kisses.
When she felt playful she would blow back.
A few times
Once in a while.
That is the sad thing about the love language.
You can genuinely love someone with your entire heart.
They may know it, but never feel it
Because the way you express your love is not how they receive it.
It is the feeling that no one cares what you feel
Which can make a heartbreak kill you in your sleep.
Sorrow and loneliness are our saddest emotions.
I am sad that I am not with Agnes.
Even if not in love I would want us to be alone together
Enjoying our new found sorrow everyday that comes.
But loving someone will not bring them to you.
Mathematicians would say, 'Find x'
If x is Agnes,
Find the value of love.
#StvnyPoetry
She carries galaxies in her quiet breath,
and sunrise in the small curve of her smile.
The world may try to measure her in shadows,
but she was born of light—
ancient, steadfast, and wild.
She walks through storms with open hands,
collecting every drop of strength they bring.
Her footsteps soften mountains into pathways,
and her voice—
a trembling spark at first—
grows into a fearless wing.
Let no one tell her she is less than wonder.
Let no doubt dim the fire in her eyes.
For every time she falls,
she rises brighter—
a testament that courage
always finds its sky.
So rise, woman, rise—
not because the world asks it,
but because your spirit was made to soar.
And may you never forget:
there is power in your softness,
thunder in your heartbeat,
and a universe waiting
inside your door.