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.


Spaceploitation 1

With looks of celestial damsel
On mission of mystery unravel
A fairy flies from foreign land
Fabulously to discover dreamland
With colourful feathers silky
Plumage so soft as cream milky
With a huge brain and physique
Seemingly bereft of travel unique
Marches with her wings vibrant
Only to devote herself on front 1

Space being her intriguing place
With supersonic speed that’s ace
Surmounting all hurdles many
The angel gathers speed gluttony
Hovering over planetoids tiny
Cosmic powers she has bonny
Revolving around many orbits
Surpassing all heavenly bits
Eventually lands on planet afar
Near the superb system of star 2

The landing leaves no stone unturned
For she knows her vision churned
Deep insight and attitude awesome
Make her an alien winsome
Tidy looks and trendy gait
Extremely stunning to catch and get
Her device offers a beverage strange
That has unique aura and rage
Pinkish perfect pure porridge
The cosmic food it seems from fridge 3

Tailor-made for her specific physique
Is the space suit with electro-magnetic
Induction full speed and winsome
Mere touch causes sparkle wowsome
A protective shield made of an alloy
Thus making her a space decoy
Satellites she whirls like a key chain
Space capsules she twirls on her mane
An enormous angel from an alien abode
Now at my solar system crossroad 4

What could be her mission possible!
Has been my subject of marvel
Is it to bring apocalypse fatal
Or just to revamp my earth petal
Before her I am like a neo natal
What to do to know her mettle
Time passes and she starts 
To peruse my earth full of arts
Wonders at the seas and bays
Astonishes at mountains and rays 5

I am now beside myself 
As she drills the earth deep herself
Oh soon there comes an mystery man
With torso made of crystal brand
The drilling continues till the dusk
There is a mist and her voice husk
I know it’s their language mutual
Based on the heavenly acts factual
Perhaps the mission is to find gems
In the earth stomach that overwhelms 6

Thus I’m sure she is down for mining
And exploiting the earth for farming
The drill lasts for hours twenty
Finally come out jewels aplenty
Like that of ocean-churn by Gods
Here going on planet-pumping by rods
The purpose is to adjust the axle 
Though imaginary-full of miracle
Eventually gathered all gems
Putting axle in firm place     7
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Eternal Goals

I set out to write a verse
A verse of prayer and praise
Words to worship the One
Who created me and gave to me
A sense of hope, purpose, faith
Love that lingers in my soul
Capturing the essence of joy

I set out to write my thoughts
Pertaining to my Lord
The One who caused me to love
With all my heart and soul
Without conditions, limits or terms
With everything that He gave
Appreciation, kindness and grace

I set out to give back to Him
A bit of the love He’d given me
The compassion and gentleness, the charity
That came alive with a prayer for His
Love to open up my heart
And light the spark that was hope
Abiding there within my soul

I set out to bring worship to Him
Who had brought affection to my spirit
Singing to me of dreams everlasting
On visions that whisper through my heart
Forcing me to listen to the brilliant thoughts
Discovered in the miracle of His gifts
The treasure of joy found within - through Him

I set out to live my life for Him
Despite many mistakes, sins that left me sorry
I gave my best, leaving all the rest 
To bring to Him my greatest attempts to give
With a heart that appreciates His gift
Of salvation, deliverance, escape from anguish
That comes to those who do not believe

I set out to listen to the whisper
Of His still, small voice – His direction
His correction, affection and the connection
That caused me to believe in His wisdom and strength
The blessing of love so alive it could dance
Through the soul on a breath from His lips
Breathing out love so sweet it leaves pure peace

I set out to give someone a chance to see
The hope, faith and love that live inside of me
Because I took the hand of the One who died for me
And listened to the voice of my Father God
Who told me to live as if I had His heart
And could love better than I could every imagine
With a love that’s been lit by a fire of compassion

I set out to give someone joy and hope
But soon discovered that He had given me the gift
Through the wisdom that lives within
When He answers a prayer I’ve prayed
For words to give back to someone a part of me
The piece of my heart that knows 
He is there, alive and wise, controlling it all

I set out to give and found… His love within my soul
Love that is my eternal goal

Your Nothing To Me

You're nothing
You're a disgrace
You've been dishonored
You've been unmasked
For the villain
That you are.


You know not
What true love is
You know not
The meaning of family.


All you know is yourself
Self-centered and egotistic
Who deserves the spotlight
Shine upon him
Thinking the world 
Revolves just for you.


I hate to burst your bubble
Of your twisted perfect reality
But the world revolves around nobody
Not even for a scumbag like you.


The spotlight shines upon all
It doesn't play favorites
Your not the star of the show
Your just a stage hand playing pretrend.


You talk amongst your blood
But don't praise your offspring
You dont' spare time 
To fix what is broken
You let it all go to ruin.


Your heinous crimes
Can never be forgiven
The lies you spout
Tried to warp my mind
But no more lies 
I'm through with you.


You put yourself before others
You think highly of yourself
You care not for emotions
Not know what they are
Your like a robot 
Without an empathy chip.


You've hurt many people 
Your road is crumbling
Burning bridges behind you
Poisoning the family tree
With your sickening presence.


No more, I say!
I take the axe of change
Chopping the rot 
Right off the tree
Drench it with fresh rain
To bring it back to life.


You're a waste of space
You're a disgrace to the family
You're a disappointment
You're a lazy bum
You have no respect
You have no morals.


I shout from the depths of my soul
I shout for the world to know 
The courageous roar of a dragon
Planting her feet deep in the dirt
To announce her right to say
"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME!"


Be gone, foul demon!
Return to hell from which you came
Away you go from my sight
I wish to never see your face again!


You're a burden
You're a parasite
You're a moocher
You're a sloth
You're a liar!


Ye who dare to bring our family shame
Try to bring ruin to our name
I cast you out of my life!
Your no longer my father
The father I knew
Died a long time ago!


Replaced by a lout
Replaced by a bum
Replaced by an imposter
Replaced by a Jackass!


You mean nothing to me!
You're an embarassment
You're not my father
I've lost all respect for you!


Away with you now
Get the hell out of here
I don't wish to see you
I don't want you in my life
You mean nothing to me
YOU ARE NOTHING!
© Megan Ryan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Mermaid's Rescue

The Mermaid's Rescue

A lost and lone survivor of a sunken warship
 back into conciousness the sailor finally did slip
All alone in the vast, vast empty water prairie
 fleeting thoughts of home and his sweet Marie!

Hazy, crazy thoughts swirled in his aching head
 had he not drowned , O' why was he not dead
Memories of being saved by an unseen guiding force
 O' but what a song , what a beautiful angelic voice!

Visions soon appeared for his mind's eye to see
 of a beautiful creature rising to his rescue pleas
Hair of radiant gold lying lovingly upon breasts bare
 a swimming angel appeared ever so swiftly there!

Now  waking upon this small and desolate rock 
 feverish and deep in the throes of a tragic shock
Suddenly hearing voice began to softly, sweetly sing
 his spirit , soul healed so quickly that voice did bring!

Searching eagerly across the shining ocean's  waves
 for a mysterious hero that did desperate lives save
A wished for vision soon appeared at the water's edge
 a mere dozen feet from the jutting rock's lower ledge!

The same beautiful face he saw in his vision's haze
 the magical creature he now knew his life had saved
One even prettier than his cherished, loving wife Marie
 now it's entire form he could astonishingly see!

A Mermaid ! Heavens how could such vision truly be
 strange tales, fictional legends of very magical seas
Could this have been answer to his desperate pleas
 a vision so tempting that his faithful heart it did tease!

Singing  stopped and that voice began to clearly speak
 telling he had been fast asleep for an entire week
A rescue ship would be arriving there that very day 
 as it appears I must say goodbye and swim away!

Final hours his Mermaid and he did pleasantly share
 he in awe of her glory, her sexy body and golden hair
So many amazing stories of many a daring rescue feat
 telling of rescues where sister Mermaids even compete!

Suddenly that promised ship raced coming in so fast
 sailor knew this was his only chance, his very last
Please, he asked, will you give me a good-bye Mermaid kiss 
 wished granted , Mermaid vanished into the deep, blue abyss!

Rescued and now safely aboard his miracle life-saving ship
 his story told and nary a miraculous part did he dare to skip
His tale he told to all that sat amazed at his strange ordeal
 so mythical and strange, even he wondered was it truly real!

Robert L. 05-29-2014
Form: Rhyme

What Is Freedom

Tell me what does it mean to be free? 
I find myself not free but locked up in a creation that desires... creation! Freedom is not just to move beyond the walls of confinement. The walls of confinement are not just of mortar, brick, iron or wood. These walls that confine this creation are more than just walls of flesh. These walls are walls of idealism and ignorance. These walls are reinforced not by bone and marrow. But, these walls are reinforced by the unknown. For if it was known then the freedom of this creation would pass beyond the strings of entanglement and would fly to the greatest height and to the lowest depth. This creation would endeavor to dream and create. This creation would move freely from realm to realm and would be a part of the greatness that created it... 
The glass of images is just a mere reflection of creation. Images are reflected from the ice of hatred. Images are reflected from the heat of illusions. Images are created from pain, sorrow and defeat, and yet, images are created from victory. 
How the heart is smothered in the sorrow of defeat... Yet, the mind soars as if freedom is the energy that propels the heaviest soul. Tell me again, what is freedom? Adventure is the glow that shines from lucid eyes not hindered by life taught. 
Life taught? Walls are made from experience, from damage, from the hurt of another creation. A child. A new life. A beginning fresh and untouched by creation. Adventure seen through the eyes of a child... freedom from entanglement, freedom from illusion and images. 
The prison begins it's walls of confinement as each day becomes weeks and months. The walls become stronger and impenetrable as the years go by and turn quietly into decades. Hardening of the mortar brings a numbness that reaches beyond the tenderness of kindness. This hardening grows colder as the eyes no longer are lucid. There is no fear in this state of prison... Nothing can tear down these walls of confinement. Nothing! 
Yet a sparkle of remembrance goes unnoticed as a new life begins and thoughts of freedom start a crack in the walls of a hardened fortress. As a bubbling brook in spring cracks the ice of a cold winter, a heart begins once again to search for the freedom that will bring to life the adventure that no image of defeat or sorrow could ever again mire the soul...
Tell me... what is freedom?
Pernell Rodocker 8/19/13


Premium Member The Dreadful Mourn

I'm a Piketown son who left his mum
To sail the eastern shores
Spent a year in Gloucester
'mong the barkeeps and the whores

Then a man came 'round to Gloucester town
Said boys I need a few
Strapping lads such as yourselves
To join me whalin' crew

The pay is mighty lowly and
The work'll break yer backs
But if ye crave adventure, men
You'll ne'er get a better chance

Those who'd go out wi' me, lads
Prepare ta leave at dawn
There's a whaler at the dockside
She's called the Dreadful Mourn

Ho! Called I to Captain Frye 
My services you've bought 
I've traveled here from Piketown
To earn a tale heart'ly wrought

Aye, me lad then ye shall have
A yarn ta spin yer sons
So join me on the Dreadful Mourn
'Ere long's the risin' sun

I nodded Aye to Captain Frye
Then turned to swig my ale
When a man appeared beside me
And pulled up to the rail 

He shook his head and then he said 
His offer you should spurn
There was another Frye set out 
Yet ne'er did he return

This other Frye for he was kin 
Of the Captain now about
That fortune on their family frowns
Of that there is no doubt

I turned to the stranger, smiled
Said thank you for the warn
Then headed down the gangway 
Out to the Dreadful Mourn

For weeks on end I coiled the ropes 
Boiled the oil and pulled the line
Though it was grueling labor
I was feelin' pretty fine

But the winds they soon blew colder
And the ship began to slow
The Captain said don't worry men,
This is how the whales go

One day the ice so thickened that
The ship came to a stop
The Captain cried a wild whoop 
Boys I think I've found the spot! 

For 'twas about this latitude 
Where me brother's ship was lost
And now I've come ta bring him home 
No matter what the cost!

Sorry I lied ta ye lads 
I blame ye not for yer ire
Now calm ye selves, we've work ta do
Afore we can retire

Of course you know we would not go 
Along with his plan 
The crew decided mutiny 
Right down to the last man 

For Captain Frye's madness
We must pay an awful price
But he would join his brother
As a ghost beneath the ice

The ship was stuck, the stores near out
'Twas nothing left to do
'Cept sing a sailin' shanty 
And toast the Dreadful crew

So I took a final dram of rum,
Cursed the day that I was born
And lay down to my icy fate
Aboard the Dreadful Mourn

June 24, 2017
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Tornadoubt

Your words, which seem to be my words,
are but footprints on the fen floor of
the white page, echoes of wand'ring lyric loping.

And if, perhaps, the P's that B have blessed,
they click, they crunch, they sweetly rot underlip.

Tearing words from mind, squeezing through that jealous heartspace.
Tearing follows, wetting page after page, piling into a formless stream.
They clatter upon the mocking whiteness, an array in disarray.
A shattered and graphic mythography, mud clots on tile
after a hike.  Why do not my hot words summon Leidenfrost?

I love words, no...I love meaning.
I love meaning, I don't love
the promise of words' bringing of
meaning.

It is National Poetry Month and Shakespeare.
died today.*  The first time he died today was
four hundred years ago.  I am set to write and read
'publicly' (which spellcheck insists and my heart 
does not insist is better writ as 'public ally') some
'poetry' while dancers carve the air, in response to,
in love with, in relation to, hand/heart drawn trees 
which have drawn, well-
wishers to wine 'n cheese' 'n chit 'n chat
an opening.  A gallery.

But Prince died last night.
The artist formerly known as Prince Rogers Nelson,
and formerly known as a symbol,
and now formerly known as Prince. He died.
The symbol has gone and I don't know what it means.
The words are here behind my teeth, within my fingertips,
astride my heart, tickling that lump in my throat.

It is Earth Day, too.  I'm supposed to say some words and make
them meaningful.  And make them sing.  And ring in the hearts as though
my ditherings are one tine of a tuning fork and the other is the spirits
of those dearly beloved, gathered here.  Our coils unshuffled, for in our
sleep of life what dreams may come.  But we stand upon, today, both 
the funeral's grounds and the corpse to be.  The Earth.  We are meant
to celebrate her life as she withers.  Strangled, starved, and trampled.  And I?

I can't.
I just...
cant.  



-ShhDragon 



*He died today but every day we don't give birth to him with our tongue, on the stages of our heart, he remains a fetid, rotting, beautiful corpse.  ’Lo four hundred years ago he died, but every day he isn't summoned, isn't animated, he remains dead.  The fact of anniversary is our failing, our repeated failings, to bring forth what might be dead.

Premium Member Living With a Ghost

living with a ghost is easy
sometimes scary
       a bit hard on the nerves
               at times   but lovely too           
I have been doing it for years now    years I tell you
ever since grandma went or should I say     didn't
you see    I inherited all her things   sadly some got sold
but I kept many   including
               her old favorite chair
                     an antique china cabinet
                          with her tea cups and collectibles
oh how she loved her collectibles   now be gentle dear
   I recall her saying to the little girl that was me
      all
        those
            years 
                ago
after grandma's funeral    ( I read the eulogy too) 
I felt a presence in my nest   my home     I really did 
but brushed it off . . . 
   then one day    a friend    who thought herself a physic
            visited
she stood in the center of my living room    eyes closed
  for the longest time.... I wanted to say   are you okay?
turned to me suddenly  and said     you have a ghost   
    I gulped    I DO! . . .  NO, she said    you have TWO
 she walked right over to the grandma's chair
            she is right here watching you     and she has a cat
A CAT? ...   I said       yes, a calico cat
                       I did not know what to say
you see... my cat patches who recently died was calico
     well, I was not that shocked as me     and grandma
                had a special bond     always
now often     I will hear the china cabinet     open (at night)
     and in the morning the tea cups and collectibles have moved
sometimes      the chair will creak    and was that a ghostly meow
but I love my ghosts     both of them     I really do     
and would have it no other way . . .
    sometimes, I bring the chair a cup of tea
          I even talk to it (never sit in it)
                   I know that sounds silly
                              but I swear, she is listening
                                      NOT THE CHAIR    grandma-

_____________________________________
June 5, 2016

Poetry/Narrative/Living With A Ghost
Copyright Protected, ID 16-797-557-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Submitted to the contest, Any HM Ever
Sponsor, Laura Loo

Second Place

____________________
For the contest, 
I Ain't  Afraid Of No Ghost


Honorable Mention
Form: Narrative

Beyond Logic Another Reality

Through the piercing silence of the night
Echoes the soul grasping sound
Of the ethereal howling of a pack of wolves
Their song is carried across the air
Over the tree tops to a place of forever

The full moon glows an aura of wonderment
Wolves wail to this celestial body in honor of it
Metaphorically, they are attempting to connect
With ideas that lie dormant in the subconscious
Just below the surface

Like undisturbed stones that nestle comfortably
In the sand upon the apex of a smooth flowing river
Always there but obstructed from view
What secrets reside within us
Waiting to be discovered? 
For it is in sleep the unconscious whispers to us, 
Shall we lie quietly and listen? 

If you don’t cross the bridge
You will never know what’s on the other side
So, if we were not meant to eat
There would be no hunger
Therefore the subconscious must serve a purpose
Who says that logic is the only reality? 





I have awakened, to feast my eyes
Upon a gigantic sphinx
Silently it observes me and smirks
A sly, cunning smile masking
Its many mysteries and knowledge
What secrets will be revealed
To me on this night if I listen? 

A vast bonfire blazes, and as it cackles
The flames reach above to the star filled sky
Surrounded by spectators, I see a fox, and a coyote
As a glimmering golden hawk accompanied by
A mystical red phoenix encircle the sight, uttering
Words of wisdom, which spread over the ocean of
Canyons creating an echo in which the mountains
Respond in unison, surely there is a message here

Each brilliant star suddenly transposes itself into lines
Of letters, I gaze in awe at the wondrous words
Glittering like silver beads stretching the expanse of
The universe, all unfamiliar, yet tantalizing, languages
From ages ago, no longer spoken, however readily co-existing
Along side modern speech and thought, what may I learn
If I were to study these ancient gems of communication? 

Therefore, 
I am ready to fly with the essence of the night
Begin a quest into another realm
Of human awareness
Seeking out words and ideas
To bring back




For it is here that thoughts originate
A journey into the other side of myself
Where logic has no relevance
And imagination has no limitations
As the pirate who prepares to unearth
A buried treasure

Okay kill the lights
Close your eyes
Prepare for take-off
© Mark Lee  Create an image from this poem.

Welcome To the World of This Certain King

"Bring Me Wine,Myrrh and My Sweetheart Daughter Anabella,
My Little Anabella Loves To Listen To The Voice Of Salome,Her Lyre and Her 
Happy Serenade..
Tell My Scribes To Be Fast About Compiling The Exploits Of Their King In His 
Last Battle Campaign..What Is a King Without An Updated Chronicle..
Send In My Little Prince For His Voice As He Reads Through His Texts Of 
Poetry..Lures The King His Father To a Closer Salient Walk With The gods..
Tell The War Generals To Give Me A detailed Brief of Our Next Campaign.."

At Morn..
"Send In The Finest Of Thy Young Warriors..So I can Test My Stealth In The Very 
Face Of Battle and Danger...
What Have Young Men Turned Themselves into..So Lazy,Wanton and Unmanly..
Off My Sight Before I Seek Thy Skulls This Very Instant..
(In Privacy With The Head Warrior)..Oh! Sarskaas Your Young Boys Are one of the 
Best in The Region My Training Sessions Are Truelly Refreshing..Tell this not to 
them Lest you build the Fruits of Pride and Treachery in their Young Minds..
Do Usher in My Seductive Belles to Show Off Their Waists in Acts of 
Poetry,Dance and Linguistic Body Embellishments..."

At Noon..
"You The Dreaded Most Notorious KING Of the Valley..A Demi god,Invincible and 
Indestructible..As I Speak Kiss The Sole Of My Feet and eat this dish of Camel 
Dung mixed with fine desert sand..
Ax-Man when he finishes his dessert Bring me his Head on My 'Royal Golden 
Skull-Dish'..
Usher in the Wise Men of the South..For I want to converse with them in this 
same spirit of Saliency..
Stuff the roast Calf portions with a lot of herbs and Spices..You well know its the 
Obsession of the Men from The south.."

At Sundown..
"Usher in the different contingents of Musicians to Entertain my Salient Guests...
Wrap My 'Lotus Fumes' Quickly so I can Smoke this Life's Troubles Aways..And 
See Through the One Eye of the gods in Solemnity and Blissful Thinkings,
Head Eunuch Do Send A Servant to The Harem..He Should Tell My Queens to 
get A-Ready For Their Lord is in Good Shape for Royal Rumbles and More..
Oh! My Faithful Knights your War plans were excellent..Go Now Enjoy and Excite 
your souls as much..Retain your honour and have the War at the Back Of your 
Minds..
Depart In Peace..Many A-Waists in The Harem are Restless.. 
I go in to Satisfy My Very Own.."
Welcome Again To The World Of That Certain King..
Form: Ballad

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