Long Cinquain Poems | Poetry

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Long Poems
Long poem by Brian Stoaks | Details

Triggers

                                               “Triggers”

  So, you are used to me writing poetry but today it’s more like my thoughts for others to read. I need to clear my head of these constant roller coaster emotions. Today was just one of those days I was smiling from ear to ear and then in a sudden instant a trigger happened that caused me to be somewhat depressive. I know what my triggers are but it’s not something I have ever shared with anyone nor will I. I know who reads my poetry and my writings and I don’t want to be judged by something I have no control over. 
    Triggers are just that. A thought or emotion can trigger a reaction in your brain that can cause many different emotions. Losing a loved one can cause sadness, grief, hurt, or in some cases depression. Gaining someone in your life after 26 years can trigger so many different emotions. Happiness, joy, etc. Sorry brain went flat as I was caught up in happiness. Laughing to myself as it’s hard to stump me.

    So for me so many things can cause a trigger in me to cause me so many different thoughts, actions, feelings, and moods. Today so many triggers happened all within a span of just a few hours that set my world in an uncontrollable spin. This caused so anxiety and some serious depression. 
   I have a bad habit of over reacting and becoming defensive when there’s no need to. Been this way my entire life. Trying to get a handle of it has been nothing but a lost cause so I’ve just learned to deal with it. For you readers let me say it’s not HEALTHY!  Over reactions can cause fights, death, lies, bad decisions, among a few things that can occur.

    How do you fight off over reacting? Well I was taught to think. Think before speaking or showing an action. Assume the worst in every decision you make. Wow I wish I could live by that. I am an extremely honest person and some times that can cause a reaction from those you’re honest with. Sometimes my honesty can cause the loss of a great friend or even a spouse. Lying is never the better alternative.
   Back to triggers. So right now I am lost by my own triggers. Someone special came back into my life after 26 years.  I have been like a child the past 3 days smiling from ear to ear. Waiting for my phone to ding from an email or ring from a phone call. At one point in my day I became extremely depressed and the happiness went away. I thought to myself what triggered it? Then I figured it out and felt as stupid as could be, what is it? What’s your trigger Brian. Laughing while repeating it’s my trigger get your own laughing.
   So, through my life this trigger has happened a lot. In my past this trigger would cause a suicide attempt. First time I was 16 years old. I took bottle of Advil and went to bed, Woke up feeling old and walked very slow.
  When I was 19 I snorted comet and drank cleaning fluids thinking it would kill me. Man, same trigger.
  When I was 31 I took a bunch of prescribed medication given to me by someone else to help me sleep. I fought hard that night just to go to sleep and I still woke up. Again, feeling old and walking slow. Same trigger.
   When I was 37 I took 72 Tylenol PMS but didn’t drink the fifth of Vodka I had bought to make sure I finally ended a miserable life. I was saved by someone I was trying to escape from. Again, same trigger.
   Why do I tell you these personal things about my life? Because depression is caused by triggers. You just have to beat the triggers and learn how to deal with them. I now write every time I have a trigger. It’s not always a depressive trigger that causes me to write. But today was a trigger none the less as to why I am writing about them.
  So if you are depressive like myself please figure out what your trigger is. You can beat your trigger. It’s not easy believe me, but you can beat your triggers. It’s just hard some times for life would be easier for me if at least one trigger would finally end all triggers and was allowed to live eternally in the arms of God. But as long as I am here on Earth I have those who love me and depend on me to be stronger then any trigger. I am a dad, a brother, an uncle, a friend, a grandfather, and most of all Gods child meant to live out His purpose. What ever that is. Laughing.
   May His angels watch over you as you sleep, as you wake, and as you live every second of your life. There’s a star above your head. Reach up and grab it. Make a wish, say a prayer, and may all these things come true. I love you. God loves you, we should all love each other. Good night, God bless you, and sweet dreams.
 

Copyright © Brian Stoaks | Year Posted 2016


Long poem by Andrew Carnegie | Details

Recruit Division

Recruit Division

I never applied to join the Army, a nice man phoned me,
He said I was the type they liked, with a steel certainty,
Plus he happened to mention the nurses on the way,
And the simple matter of doubling up my pay,
I signed.

So after having passed some sort of fitness tests,
I puffed quite a bit, but certainly tried my best,
I found myself, as many a medic knows,
To the town of Ash Vale, near a certain lady rose,
I’d signed.

Now as I walked, fashionable hair dishevelled,
There ahead of me, was a soldier whose back was upright and level,
So I called out, ‘Sorry to bother you mate, is the way for the Keogh camp gate’?
And the RSM made it very clear, that I would find it and him, certainly quite near,
Now I’d signed.

Within the breath of a watching gnats eye,
My hair was gone, no time to wonder why,
Everything seemed to happen with rapid and specific shouts,
Part of me was now wondering, a modicum of doubt,
Why I’d Signed?

Over the months to follow, each day a tired tomorrow,
I learnt about guns and bangs and running for fun,
Whilst far out on the expanse of the drill square,
A Russian yelled ‘Moy Et’ with a certain disposition,
Signing was my decision.

Now behind that drill square ran the main London line,
So we would be doing things, everything looking fine,
When the London train would pass, thundering on time,
And I tried not to grin at the phrase, ‘I left you in this position’,
Glad I signed.

I discovered a new world of dead fly biscuits,
Often so hungry the compo was worth risking it,
And how far a bed could fly, without seeming to try,
Or how proud I was as my bulled boots, not asking why,
I’d signed.

There was the nine second rule, certainly a gas,
Although they’d not mentioned they would take off the mask,
As each of us fit and healthy blokes,
Laid on the grass, throat burning chocked,
But I signed.

Finally a day arrived, escape from the camp,
Helping my granddad walk up the ramp,
Parents watched on as their son stood up,
Second best recruit, but no second cup,
Proud I’d signed.			       
					Andrew Carnegie, Reminiscing Aldershot, 14th Jan 2017.

Copyright © Andrew Carnegie | Year Posted 2017


Long poem by Delores Sanders | Details

Dreams

There is times in my life, that things seem Like nothing matters, when you wake up to darkness your eye's seem like nothing matters. Lightness is the strength of our mercy. We think everything around us is like gold, and find out it is all a darkness that lays in our heart. Attitude come from the person that don't understand you..Confess is something that justify our thought that we carry with in our self..concern is strengthen the person that you step on hers or his feeling and laugh, suffer not that your chance is going to come in a dream that define the feel  that makes you powerful from yourself. And others,popular is everything around you that seem like a dream...wake up and see what is around you, and suffer not that we are fighters, and givings. Communication is hard to understand when you are only communication with yourself, how can someone tell you I love you and steal the glory from your heart, confronted everything that blows in the air. And lands in the sand.. and get step on like the parts in the earth that you can't see.. open up my friend and say why me because you are the little one in the earth that no one can see so I explode in the air..help me can you see me I am here crying you said that you are the man and you are just a life that I can't see. Unlimited times that God gave me...battles, are something that we physically experience in are heart..hell stop forcing wounds in my heart, Vengeance is unlimited combat is a opportunities some of us don't get, thousands weaken on earth, peace is what ever one of us cry for..some of us are terrified to say help stop the pain that comes over me. Fighting is something that falls deep with in yourself, stop,look,walk in the light yet you can't reach opening the heaven, and recognize  that there is another way, appearance is what we all fight for. But we do not understand why it weakens when you have the power of life..Be silent but you are to loud to be heard. Accept me for who I am forgiveness for those who know life,vengeance is something that each and ever one of us  knows.

Copyright © Delores Sanders | Year Posted 2018

Long poem by John Beam | Details

A kiss of winter

 
Tis cold
this night so love
clear starry sky behold
rainbow around moon above
so bold
The walk
in snow tis bright
no path not yet we talk
frosty vapors intwine in flight
then caught
The fire
from hill come sleighs
children bound to conspire
the mood now dire first kiss to weigh
transpires

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Gregory R Barden | Details

Sojourn's Close

Struggling in the dark to breathe
I flip the light switch underneath
It's glow surrounds me like a wreath
I've landed in a cave
An icy mountain cave

My pod is running out of air
I pop the canopy and stare
An ice cave lighted by my flare
I take a deepened breath
(Is that a tinge of death?)

My focus sharpens, taking stock
A hint of light there, and some rock
I grab supplies and start to walk
Along the purple ice
A cave of purple ice!

I find the sunlight, of all things
But not a sound of wanderings
No flitting buzz of insect wings
Just a horrid silence
Vacant, horrid silence

A vista spreads before my feet
A valley, lakes and trees, replete
Yet not a hint of hearts that beat
Just throbbing in my ears
The throbbing of my fears

No flap of creatures on the wing
No howls or bellows echoing
No noise from ANY living thing
There's something very wrong
Yes, something's deadly wrong

Not long ago there must have been
Here and beyond a wondrous scene
Lifeforms designed in types yet seen
Now, just death's aroma
Putrid death's aroma

Just weeks before we'd scanned this place
From our approach, not far in space
'Twas full of life and not a trace
Of ANYthing to fear
No pathogens to fear

How could this splendid landscape lay
With trees and plants, from hills to bay
Yet ALL be in such deep decay?
Not a creature living
Not a thing left living!

The smell was overwhelming rot
The more I breathed, the more I fought
To not expel upon that spot
All that was inside me
All that lay inside me

Just months behind me, colonists
Builders, couples, biologists
And naught but this apocalypse
To welcome their sad eyes
Just ghastly mass demise

What caused this ruin here was grand
A cataclysm, air and land
An answer I MUST have in hand
Before my friends arrive
Or we will not survive

No, we will not survive ...
Not one soul left alive.

Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Details

JUST FIGURING - MY MANIFESTO

When ever I have time of days 
I sit figuring a maze  in amazing ways 
I think convoluted thoughts
And jot down extreme constitutions
Can't help some self amusement

At times contradicting my own rules
For instance this composition is 
Nothing short of competition for my self
This manifesto is an I'm sure
Proclamation punctuation if needed

Infatuated with luxury Yesss in deed
A life of pure comfort (everyone should
Have) is definitely a part of my composure
With all necessary disclosure the
Information is streaming through

It's only news to you 
Must have a quality mattress a king sized
Extra pleasure with all regalities please
A grand sunken entertainment room
Low down! A spectacular situation

The light in our lives is the right of human
Beings and precious loves
Racism, it drives me insane to hate for
Hate's sake but we have the right to 
Love and hate whoever we please

Accolades to all titans who fought for 
Human rights way back then 
Think back  think black think bad 
Ashes to ashes look to all those 
Survivors of the struggle

Good God that was hard
This world is more than just material
It's not just the struggle of never
Having enough food money 
It's what came out of that hustle

Now speechless to speeches
Break it down In pieces 
In some forms and ranks racism
Persist it's in their hearts 
That fight is the art of the deal

Spaces and places have changed
Paces we are still in a race with our selves 
We have got to carry on 
This affair called the fight  the struggle
Please don't buckle live and let live

Keep your dignity  be diplomatic
Give up the troubles 
Live in the light become TITANS 
Never give up the fight 
That's the life 

THIS IS THE PROCLAMATION

Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2018

Long poem by VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Details

A JAZZ WORTHY CONVERSATION

Remember those LOVE tunes I sang to you?
Wait, I know we need to talk
Don't leave stay in my heart.
You know we both said things last time we wish 
We could take back

We don't need to chat.
We need intimate conversation.
You were jealous when all I did was say HELLO.
We still have each other.
It seems so long ago, that first time.

We met in the hall after jazz class.
You blew me away with every word you said.
We can be there again.
You said  We'll probably love each other to much.
With just a gentle  touch

This is so INTENSE.
I'm asking you to stay and experience more
Intensity be more entranced with me?
Simple tear drops from lovely eyes she cried.
We are two lucky people.

What we have is SENSUALITY
A lust for love 
Lovely as she does slay me
With her passion
Just a little so and so and a touch of some  such and such

Don't rush this love
Wait .....stay.....
Maybe it's changed between us
Love means something different.
Should we risk another chance?

On Any other day the answer would be
"For our lives sake each mistake and we forgave.
Remember that jazz 
Never had To save our love for other times
You know we relate 

You know if you Run i'll catch you.
So i figured you want more than love
Now a-Days love comes with rules, I can  comprehend that
Its a relationship set on cruise
I promise i won't forget  the love rules you've set

I swear you wont regret being by My side
Stay....don't Walk away Stay......and we'll listen to
Some Thelonious Monk, Chick Corea or any you want.
Take my hand baby, let's find out what we really mean to one anthers
I'll bath you in Jasmine scent replay

Please stay my heart adores you
Stay

Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2018

Long poem by Brian Stoaks | Details

Thoughts of Purity

                                          
“Thoughts of Purity”

Hanging by a thread; feet dangling like clothes flapping in the summer breeze
Look upon the little things below me ; everything is so tiny when you’re so high
Believing that being above all souls will bring me the peace I long to have
When it comes to Stephen there is no right or wrong; for all is lost with open eyes

Desiring to be the man I set goals to be, failing like the wings of a baby bird learning how to fly
Is life really worth your owns words being misconstrued into what they really want to hear
Is it the failure in others that drives their insecurity to be boasted by worse failures then their own?
 Stephen is just a name used to describe the failures of his lost soul floating in the vastness of space

The highest peak on earth cannot describe the level of pain that depressed hearts endure
For the pain of the depressed isn’t a come and go type of feeling but never ending
Seek and you shall find lonely minds scattered like puzzle pieces laid freshly upon a table
It’s not just Stephen alone in the spectacle of life, for broken minds stay silent unnoticed in pictures

In mountain streams the dreams of normalcy floats away like paper airplanes thrown into the wind
Always searching for a hand to grasp to lift a lost soul to stand upon the solid ground
Never finding the ears to understand that life’s treasures fall into the hands already rich in comfort
Stephen is no longer reaching for steady arms but forgiveness of suicidal thoughts that break his thoughts of purity 

Copyright © Brian Stoaks | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Brian Stoaks | Details

Your Heaven Part 5 of Sweet Honey

Wednesday morning
October 28, 2015
9:19 a.m.
Kansas City, Mo
Stephen Becker pen name Brian Stoaks



                                    Your Heaven

As you come down from your orgasmic after shocks I keep my body still
Allowing your body to relax as your walls twitch around my raging member
Unable to think of a sexual experience between us where you released so often
Tonight is your night to drain your fluids as often as your body desires

You turn around to face me keeping your hands on my chest to lay me flat on my back
Your mouth begins to explore my tool first with your tongue licking the length of my shaft
Slowly devouring all the juices of your vaginal out burst that has slickened me
You consume the entire length sending shivers through out my body causing you to moan

You hum as your talented tongue soaks up my everything causing soft vibrations
Your right hand gently massages my hanging balls while you take me to the back of your throat
Not wanting to close my eyes but not being able to help in the ecstasy you’re giving me
 I just lay back, close my eyes, and enjoy the Hoover sucking only your mouth could achieve

What seems like hours has only been minutes when I feel my balls tighten 
Wanting to explode but unwilling to let loose quite yet, I quickly pull my tool out of your mouth
You look up to me with those sexy hazel eyes as if I had taken your world away
I pull your mouth to mine, I slowly insert my tool back into your heaven so that I can bring you back to the release of your sweet honey

Copyright © Brian Stoaks | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Mike Samford | Details

Cinquain Again 7

M. T. 
is a grand name 
for a cute young lady 
but it will be a shock to all 
us men.

Trust me 
There are few things 
In this world more fearful 
Than to run smooth out of toilet 
Paper.


Too long 
I have set here 
screaming for a little 
help, just anyone to hand me 
a wipe!

Wonder 
I do about 
the flat white rock I found. 
How long did it have to lie there -- 
resting.

Breakfast? 
Who is cooking? 
Can I get some eggs –please! 
Over easy, a piece of toast: 
Some grits?

Old’s fine 
are it’s alright, 
as long as you don’t get 
too old to retire, or too poor 
to eat.

At risk 
is the sunshine 
from a storm that builds and 
grows with the rain of discontent 
anger.

Weather 
Is sunshine and 
Rain. Regardless Tristan 
I did not mean to step on your 
Cinquain!

Poets 
wild folks is not 
what we need --a traffic 
cop for this poetic jam; or 
stop lights!

Mirror? 
Do not have one. 
They do not work for me, 
it seems that I bring out the lies 
in them.

Hydro! 
I had a dog 
named Hydro. He had a 
short leg that he lifted every 
ten steps.

Their backs 
against a wall 
they stare at the wet paint 
and wonder how long before it 
will dry.

Fair game 
even if they 
are unarmed, stupid, crippled 
and smell really, really awful? 
Fair game?

Stretch marks, 
I have them too! 
I have them on my butt! 
My father gave them to me; long 
ago.

Goodwill 
with your bikini? 
I would give my swim-suite 
but it has a hole in the knee-- 
left leg. 


Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2008

Long Poems