Long Comes Poems

Long Comes Poems. Below are the most popular long Comes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Comes poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member A Whole Week Color-Mania

Colors will always make my  life happier,
They also make my whole world brighter
       What if there’s no color?
       I think,  I’ve  no life galore
And I cannot make myself much prettier.

So, I’ve got a more fantastic idea,
To show everyone my color-mania
     For Monday Luck,  I wear red
     From my feet to my head
Like a  dragon of New Year in China.

Then comes the next day, it’s Tuesday
Keeping  aura,  I’ve color of sun ray
    Yellow dress  and jewelries,
    They say,  I’ve  hepatitis
But, I don’t care no matter what they say.

Then comes the third day of the week,
More work are done making me weak
    To conceal my exhaustion 
    Green color shows pretention
That my life and vigor are still at peak.

Thursday comes so perfectly great,
I wear purple , also my favorite
    Purple  fingernails and lips,
    Its on me up to the tips
And I get smiles from whoever I meet.

Friday, the last day of my  office work,
On this day,  rainbow color over perk
   I use multi-colored things,
   Feeling of joy they’ll  bring
 No one says I carry myself like a quirk.

Saturday and Sunday are weekends, 
Still, work and activities never end
    Two days, I’ll be all in pink
    People see me can’t wink
Tickled pink that I look so young my friend.




Sept. 22, 2012

First Place
Contest: Colors
Judged: 10/15/2013
Sponsor: Poetess Skat
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Limerick


The Will That Shines

The world so vast and the horizon so deep with nature's imagery pulled me in sane to face the heights and the limits guiding one to face the blue sky.


What comes to one's sight is the beautiful rays from the sun, far from the nomad's knowledge and the fence of beautiful flowers which reduces as it proceeds towards the far off mounts.
Life takes one to the destination as the destiny of nature tends to purity.
Still are to keep more steps taking one to the air of freshness and that there are more horizons to scale in this vast landscape.
Past left as traces of footsteps behind to the ambition of man to step farther and memories that keep you high in the wind.
The stories of grandmas left behind the fences of her life and her dreams and the wealth buried with our hearts still instilled hopes and made dreams to live.
This far off reality in the vicinity of ours with more of ages to cross , the present revolving with fuming life and yet to merry oneself with oncoming seasons.
Will this truth make one so lazy , the bones so crushed of losses or will make one to live and proceed with the purpose of one's dreams.
Man the beholder of himself with lights of nature guiding his life and the spirit of man takes him to the natures chores.
Form: ABC

Premium Member Words Sum

Speak clearly now as right words sum,
Poise knows just how to charm fine comes.


Be of good cheer as time grows old,
Choice fits right here in windy cold.


See in the breeze a touch of ease,
Feel old times squeeze finesse in peace.


Check one by one the flirt of fate,
Once said and done love's never late.


Live your best zest in witty fest,
Know that your quest is but a test.


Success finds time to honour health,
Affluence funds chimes way beyond wealth.


And in the end be one with truth,
Around the bend comes visual proof.




Leon Enriquez
15 September 2016
Singapore
Form: Couplet

Premium Member The Echo Returns Not


The cacophony of egocentric edicts,  
intoned within the noise of existential commotion,
doesn’t return reflected in harmonic resonance 
from the serene sensuous screen, 
to where it comes from unperceived,
for the signals of stark reality of being get absorbed 
in the encompassing quicksand abyss 
of the marooned morass minds.  

The multi-channel stream of emotion meanders 
in the carved-out valley in mental plateau,
the concert of craving cascades resounding
with the melodic matrix in the sculpted heart.
I place my ears on the flow of the rippling air,
but the sound of soulful music doesn’t reach me,
for the reverberation dissipates in insensate psyche.

The rain of solace falls in benevolent torrent 
on the desolate trees of desiccated essence,
the rhythm of the aria of revival resonates 
on the dancing leaves of possessed passion.
I keep my subtle senses alert 
in the seraphic scene of live actuality,
but the symphony of showering succor  
fades away unechoed and unheard.

Within the deep space of contemplation
the silence of celestial cadence vibrates
in the quintessence of divine existence,
where the sonorous soul resonates  
with the devoutly assimilated echo
of the timeless sonata of supreme bliss.

Premium Member Distant Memories

Oh, those carefree days of youth
where did they go, where did they go?

He sits quietly in his recliner watching the TV drone on and on...
Handsome in his youth, now his body is gaunt and frail
his thinning gray hair is brushed carefully over his mottled scalp.
Those blue eyes, once bright and vital, now appear  
faded and dim under heavy glasses.

A wind up clock faintly ticks by the minutes, and his eyelids 
get heavy. He is tired, always tired...then he dreams.
Dreams of distant memories come back to him
he feels so alive, living in those glory days of long ago.

Now a young man, full of vigor, running along the beach
swimming in the ocean, muscled, tan and strong.
He then sees himself on his high school campus
proudly wearing his letter man jacket for his varsity
basketball team, joking around with his friends
going on dates, going to dances, going to parties.

A sudden noise blasting from the television jolts
him awake, bringing him out of his long ago reverie.
He glances down at his frail frame, and reality 
comes screaming down upon him again.
Then a few small, salty tears trickle down
from my dad's weather worn face...

Oh, those carefree days of youth
where did they go, where did they go? 





Written on 6/8/2016


INVISIBLE STITCHES

Time may heal wounds,
but you heal life.
No medicine, no exercise—
just your words, your love.

Like a needle leading thread
through the skin,
your love pains me,
yet defines my life.

My eyes may bleed,
my mouth run dry,
but your love and touch
satisfy my heart,
filling my world with dreams.

Every moment of tears, pain, and sacrifice
brings my broken pieces together.
After you bow to say sorry—
eyes on me, arms around my waist—
I cannot avoid the pain of having you,
because it comes with living hope.

My body is ready, skin to heart,
for your heartbreaks.
I need them for my soul
to mend, to heal,
to stitch your heart to mine.
© Oula Willy  Create an image from this poem.

Emotions

And the truth is they dont hear what I say 
And even if they do it won't matter anyway 
And its a constant battle with the words to follow
so it got all left behind me was the most painful thing to swallow 
And to carry around all of this weight 
With eyes that shine but are filled with hate 
To go day by day with these walls around me 
And yet to everyone else im the perfect phony
And yet you see its the perfect little trick 
But in all honesty it seriously makes me sick 
How depritive people have become to be 
That when someone's suffering 
Are they that dull to see 
They'll go ahead and tell you everything's fine take a deep breath act like everything's divine
When the walls inside my mind are crumbling 
And its this constant decision of push or am I going 
Take a deep breath and swallow it down 
Because when it comes to speak no one else is around 
These voices in my head know more about me than myself 
Filled with other empty thoughts I've shoved up and put on a shelf 
Come back to at a later date 
Suffer in silence push down tears and corporate
Everyone depends on you, you dont have time to not be yourself 
Quit being a burden dont put that on someone else 
Stop being yourself because if someone else sees ,your crazy might come out and then you'll watch another person leave 
Don't you get it?  It's what we're use to 
Its that fun Lil game.. 
Its come around time to time and the outcome always the same..
Its not somthing you're ever going to win 
Not this time around, probably never again
Don't you see that all faded away 
You don't get to have it back, so say goodbye to that day 
Now put on a damn smile cause you need to push thru 
Because don't you remember everyone depends on you
So push those other thoughts deep down inside of that head 
And don't look back because that tommorow is dead
Go down that rabbit hole another day because you know it will creep up 
Its always here to stay
And then we'll sit and reminisce
Once again those deep thoughts that depress
Until then just push thru 
Because remember the voices in your head are always watching you 
Just remember we're always here to stay 
Because we're the thoughts that never go away."

Take Great Care

Hold your head high my Son
For this cut will heal, what’s done is done

As time follows on you will learn
There is much hurt, but love you’ll yearn

Gifted with the feeling of pain
Cursed by the effect, love will drive you insane

When the time comes, hold her dear
With you by her side, she’ll have nothing to fear

Such a tender heart beating inside you
I just know the skies above will never remain blue

I’ll be there ‘till the day I die
Helping you every step of the way, until you can fly

I will always do what you think is best
Comfort, in the knowledge you can do the rest

Unconditional is the love for my boy
I’ll never break your heart, just like your best toy.

Be the man I know you are
Learn from my mistakes, trust me you’ll go far
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Nothing To Write About

I would like to talk about "nothing"
It is a most peculiar word
I have heard it used so often
The way it's used  is often absurd 
I'm told there's "nothing" to worry about
Yet I worry about "nothing" for days
I try to stop worrying about "nothing"
and why "nothing" inside my head ever stays

There isn't another word for "nothing"
With "nothing" only "nothing" can compare
When a woman speaks about all her clothing
How is it possible she has "nothing" to wear
When she tells me I'm "nothing" short of amazing
What in the world does that "nothing" mean
If that "nothing" is really something
If I look will that "nothing" be seen

We are told that everything comes from "nothing"
A "nothing" theory that lacks evidence
A Big Bang and a boom from a "nothing"
If an explosion is something  
Is that why "nothing" makes sense
So if "nothing" in the end becomes "something
Then "nothing" is "nothing" at all
Just a word that causes confusion 
 "nothing" can be big or quite small

If "nothing" can separate us from God's love
Please keep "nothing" away from me
For if I settle for "nothing"
It will separate me from eternity
So you can see why "nothing" is a problem
I am "nothing" if I can't be me
"Nothing" in the end is perplexing
For "nothing" is a mystery!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member In the depths of the mind, endless questions dance like shadows on the vast and silent sky

In the depths of the mind, endless questions dance like shadows on the vast and silent sky,
Who am I, what am I, a speck of dust merged with everything, a fragment of a lost dream?
I am nothing and everything at once, an echo of the universe singing its endless melody,
A current flowing into the great ocean of existence, where time and space dissipate.
In the search for perfection, I find myself caught in the subtle game of old pride, a piece without rest,
I try to climb the peaks of morality and art, but discover it's all just a contrast,
A shadow play, where my success is nothing but a step on the path of others' failures,
An illusion spinning endlessly, a spiral of desires and fears struggling in silence.
If you wish to overcome the feeling of ego, ask yourself sincerely why you seek to escape this fight,
For the desire to reach spiritual heights is just another mask of pride that keeps your path broken,
The ego, a falsehood pretending to be authentic, is not the free center of the soul, but a foreign mechanism,
Implanted by the world, inherited reflexes that make us dance on invisible strings, in a predetermined fate.
When the ego relearns to be a victim in its own play, it divides and mimics helplessness skillfully,
"I am just a bundle of reflexes," it says with unspoken guilt, like a shield against any judgment that comes.
But we too are puppets, with souls tied to the same strings that carry us in the dance of the world,
Why shouldn't this lie, this shadow play that pushes us toward abysses, infuriate us?
In the end, the ego is nothing but what it pretends not to be, a wall of defense around another wall,
A labyrinth of illusions and appearances, a closed circle in which we lose our steps and get lost,
And in the center, the mysterious nothingness reveals itself, a hidden truth in the heart of a shadowy universe,
Where at last, the truth emerges, like a star piercing the darkness, singing its eternal song.
In this game of life, we discover ourselves, layer by layer, until we reach the essence,
And understand that we are part of everything and everything is part of us, in a harmony without pretense.
We are nothing but echoes of an infinite song, where every note matters, every whisper,
And in this dance of existence, we lose and find ourselves, in an eternal and magical quest.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

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