Long Compilation Poems
Long Compilation Poems. Below are the most popular long Compilation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Compilation poems by poem length and keyword.
What "do you see"
"What are you looking for"
"Why"
Why "do you do what you want"
You know it causes Me pain
You could be "my everything"
"Are you determined" to go it alone
"Sure" you can rely on your own wisdom
"Each" "moot" point " you" "test"
"What you want you get"
"Just know" it will never satisfy
"Ready or not" the end will come
You have a "see through heart"
Lacking the "gift of eternity"
"See where you are going"
"To you" I say, do not grasp the "final straw"
"Ready or not" "it is you"
"Oh yes" it is your choice
You can "rest in me"
"If you want it you shall have it"
"Your Treasure" is safe in my hands
"Whatever touches you" will never harm you
"You are an essay" I wish to complete
"Wisdom" can be your companion
"I live" beyond simple imaginations
"See with my eyes"
"I will guide you"
"Oh beautiful one"
"Beautiful you"
I am waiting "for you"
"Peace" is but a "breath" away
"Ask and you will receive"
"Love, Lord"
All the words in Quotes are titles from Toquyen Harrell's poems.
The wind blew exactly right
For the flying of a kite.
Kites were nearly everywhere:
In telephone wires
And high in the trees,
One or two were in the air,
Blowing ever higher
On a gentle breeze.
Then all at once the wind increased;
It blew and blew, it hardly ceased,
Pulling all the kites so high
Into the clouds,
How high they go!
Pulling children in the sky,
Above the crowds
That watch below!
Children hanging by kite strings,
Dangling over homes and things,
Higher, higher, beyond sight,
Each child dangled from a kite.
Then there was a change in the weather.
The wind stopped blowing altogether.
Children fall, down they drop, one and all,
Plop…plop…plop.
This is another poem from the ongoing series "Lucifera's Questionable Daycare Poems and Stories." It previously had very minor publication in Pamela Olsen's mail art compilation zine The P&E Newsletter volume 2 number 9, October 1993.
3:35
The wise shall inherit a glorious name,
But fools shall promote for themselves shame.
10:1
A wise son makes his father glad,
A foolish son makes his mother sad.
10:5
He who gathers in summer is a wise son,
But he who sleeps in harvest is a foolish one.
10:14
Wise men lay up knowledge and instruction,
The mouth of the foolish is near destruction.
12:15
A fool's way is right in his own eyes,
But a wise man will listen to advice.
13:20
He who walks with the wise shall be wise,
But a companion of fools shall be destroyed likewise.
14:3
In the foolish mouth is a rod of pride,
But the wise's lips will preserve them in their ride.
14:16
A wise man fears and departs from evil,
But a fool's rage and confidence causes upheaval.
15:2
The tongue of the wise use knowledge rightly,
But the mouth of fools pours out foolishness lightly.
21:20
The wise shall be filled with oil and treasure,
While the fool spends all for his own pleasure.
28:26
He that trusts in his own heart is a fool,
But the wise shall be delivered as a rule.
29:11
A fool utters all that's on his mind,
But a wise man guards it behind.
08.14.2020
A compilation of Wise and Fool proverbs in rhyme.
A splash of liquid…spoiled cloth…
Locked up restrooms, and someone directed,
A simple direction to a covered area…
An enclosed area where the artists were changing dresses
As they were getting ready for a show.
Inside, someone was already there, changing
I was standing, dumb and frozen,
Not knowing quite what to do…...
A silenced pause and anger were growing inside
Not sure, how to egress with that feeling.
On that rather uncomfortable moment
She stood up, a sharp, tall figure,
She told me to carry on…. with softness in her voice
I was suddenly relieved and tried to forget
That specific moment, somewhat suffocating.
Not sure why, I felt, life is a compilation
Of these insignificant, little moments,
Tiny points of recollection of memory…
Of little or no value, whatsoever.
And I felt, tremendously grateful for having a life, there.
(Source of Inspiration: The Prophet : Kahlil Gibran)
We're so fragile, I can't even think...
My love was dear to me and to the family,
Then came the enemy—Death.
I know the day is near when Death will disappear.
We'll welcome our loved ones again.
But we'll have to wait 'till then.
Death is the wage of sin.
Yes we'll have to wait 'till then.
Death is the wage of sin.
We're so fragile, I can't even cry...
It's so unfair and most difficult to bear
Fighting thoughts and emotions that won't end.
Pray for the day God will wash tears away
And our loved ones will be in our arms again.
But we'll have to wait 'till then.
Death is the wage of sin.
Yes we'll have to wait 'till then.
Death is the wage of sin.
We're so fragile I can't even speak...
Copyright © 2003-2018 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Published 2005 in "A Short Compilation of Poems-Vanessa's Song" by Mark Toney
Published 2016 in "Up In Smoke-A Collection of Poems" via wattpad.com
Photo credit: Night Gift | h.koppdelaney via Foter.com / CC BY-ND
My life is like a train
where passengers enter in leave
they turn into my reverie
on this tiresome journey
This journey is so long
but it always seems short
coz' time flies away soon
and nothing stays for long
neither my reverie nor my content
some unfavourable times arrive
that surely disappoint.
My train halts at many stations
picking up numerous people,
but does it always taken in
good people who are congenial?
Everything good isn't in my lot,
There are people who'd demoralise me a lot,
some more would trap me in their sugary web
of gracious speeches hiding their contempt
and then some day, taking complete advantage
they'd throw me out of my own train....
They'll intentionally teach me a big lesson
putting a question mark in front of my perception
of how the world appeared in my first impression
and how it turned out to be after realisation....
But times never stop me from being committed and strong
everything happens for a reason after all
I do feel disheartened, broken and frustrated
Time seems to have stopped as per my brief mindset
that's when I get going to my lost train
turning all my energy into my driving fuel,
there would be two outcomes at the end of this run
but I make sure that I push myself to a peak performance
before I fall behind to try any further
at least I wouldn't regret that I didn't even persevere....
Our fate is in the hands of a driving force
the one that drives our train or brings it to a standstill
the one that decides to stop at or ignore approaching stations
the one that weaves our life, a compilation of journeys and experiences...
Children's giggles, the melody I enjoy.
Glowing faces, the golden era of joy.
Their moms shout, the sun sets,
music stops—a break from hearing, "YAYAYA OUT".
Sometimes the genre shifts;
a deep convo between lovers hits.
Some cries, some smiles,
an emotional roller coaster,
a compilation of human files.
The dogs run, the air's fresh.
People exercise, talk about mesh,
share their pain, resolve them,
take the energy, smile—worth a gem.
The old tales hymns everywhere.
The grandpa reminisces about his prime time,
misses those people he still cares.
Sad one sits, prays to God.
Life's a movie I have watched.
One may well in one swift motion
Snatch a jewel from crocodile jaws,
May swim across a vast ocean
Gone stormy what with giant bows,
Can well fight with a furious snake
And wrap it like garland ‘round neck,
But scarce can please a proven fool,
How so well-schooled he’s, how so cool.
_______________________
Translation | | please, fool
Poet’s Note: Bhartruhari was a poet king in central India in the seventh century CE, who when disillusioned in love renounced kingdom and became an ascetic. Neeti Shatakam, a compilation of hundred verses on moral values was written by him along with Shringar Shatakam on romance, and Vairagya Shatakam on dispassion and renunciation. This verse on fools is taken from Neeti Shatakam.
Prasahya manim uddharet makara-vaktra danshtran
Ankurat samudram api san-taret prachalat urmi malakulam |
Bhujangam api kopitam shirasi pushpavat dharayet
Na tu prati-nivishta murkha jana chittam aradhayet || 4 || Metre: Prthvi-vrtta
Men of learning mired are in envy,
Those of influence, proud and haughty,
As rest are ignorant,
My poems have gone gaunt,
Untold, unread, old and weary.
___________________
Translation | | poet, poem
Poet’s Note: Bhartruhari was a poet king in central India in the seventh century CE, who when disillusioned in love renounced kingdom and became an ascetic. Neeti Shatakam, a compilation of hundred verses on moral values was written by him along with Shringar Shatakam on romance, and Vairagya Shatakam on dispassion and renunciation. This verse is taken from Neeti Shatakam. It seems, even in these olden times, poetry suffered from the same fate as now--getting old unread.
Boddharah matsara-grastah prabhavah smaya-dushitah |
Abodha-upahatah cha anye jirnam ange subhashitam || 2 || Meter: Anushtup
The mellow chords of a cello draw tears
as its bow vibrates a combo of strings.
And as that sound found its way to my ears:
it pulled on my heartstrings and clipped my wings.
The sorrowful cry of a violin
imbues empathy, felt within its pitch.
And, the moan of a bass fiddle cut in,
emphasizing its power to bewitch.
French horns, like brass thorns, both piercing and sharp,
elevate each note, and I'm left reeling.
And the lingering soft bleat of a harp,
haunts and taunts, with a heavenly feeling.
A full orchestra leaves my soul in awe:
every chord bound to the conductor's will.
Pretentious, yet artistic, like scrimshaw,
a compilation of talent and skill.