Long Copes Poems
Long Copes Poems. Below are the most popular long Copes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Copes poems by poem length and keyword.
When Betty hit the menopause
her symptoms all came on at once,
with her brain fog; she feels a dunce!
At night in bed, the hot sweat pours
and her nightie is soaked right through
she changes; then runs to the loo!
Bill tries to speak and Betty ROARS
as her mood swings are quite severe,
he grits his teeth and says ‘yes dear’!
She nags at him without just cause,
and Bill’s wants are quickly dismissed…
there’s no sex, it’s right off her list!
He wished there was a get out clause
but they’ve been wed for many years
Bill understands, copes with her tears
When Betty hit the menopause
at night in bed, the hot sweat pours.
Bill tries to speak and Betty ROARS
she nags at him without just cause …
he wished there was a get out clause!
Inspired by Constanza Contest
Best rhyming poem October to December 2017
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Entered on 07/28/20 into Old or New Constanza poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
NB This poem was written by an English poet - so to the 'British ear' the rhyme is correct
11-19-17
The human heart bears the weight of lies:
as it has since betrayal began.
And when the bonds of trust unravel,
Reality copes the best it can.
Frustration is all too familiar
when life's trolled by failure and defeat.
And seeming non-receptive to dreams,
Love falters: then begins to retreat.
Seeking another pathway to love,
trust persuades your heart to take a chance.
But when lies overshadow the truth,
hopes collapse, as if pierced by a lance.
Struggling in desperation's grip;
teardrops fuel emotional storms.
And fighting feelings of depression,
you're mired in self-doubt: searching for norms.
A wave of conflicting emotions
scuttles your heart in a sea of tears.
And tides of regret ebb in your sleep;
exposing derelict dreams and fears.
David wrote out many praises
To the One who holds the moon and stars
He penned many words and phrases
Sometimes they were filled with sobs
~
His words lifted the Lord to the heights
Of mountain tops and into the heavens
Giving him the honor for all the sights
Filled with God’s compassionate essence
~
His words applause God’s greatest blessings
With feelings of pure, tender affection
Reminding Him that He has given lessons
On where we need His Godly direction
~
David wrote about the meadows and brooks
Wisdoms that come from inspired hopes
Words and pages that would fill up books
With gentle feelings that are ways he copes
~
His words were like a music to God’s ear
Telling Him of all that He’d given His friend
Words and psalms that only God could hear
Sweet kindness that would always amend
~
His words haunt the heart who does listen
For the joy and faith found within them
Fragrant verses that seem to simply glisten
With joys, peace and faith that are a gem
~
David wrote the writings that esteem the Lord
With perfect prose of sensations that warm
Tender compassions that should not be ignored
Because God is the reason we all should conform
A very good morning to all my fans,
My uplighters, my blossom,
an add on to my faithful viewers
amongst my midst
in a pandemonium world:
While the bush fire continues out west
in Brooklyn streets, we still wish for mango trees,
Instead of the many visible dumpsters,
Our Netflix, our prime videos,
Our, You Tubes channel streaming, while
Some represent modern times, the others have just
The right touches for one’s loneliness in lockdown towns,
In all of our troubled days of depression,
*The vast new reports of shunning, is uprising my fans*
How the world copes with madness, and death
Per day, as the world spin faster, and faster,
To a never-ending dilemma,
But somehow, the richest demand more gold,
While the low renter, begs the government for help..
*The roses and the lilies talk of art and also of love.**
At the summit conferences what really do they talk about?
Under the various mask faces?
A very good morning to all my fans,
My uplighters, my blossom, a add on to my
Faithful viewers amongst my midst
in a pandemonium world:
This is not poetry, only observations my friends.
In your stern face
Poise mellows grace
In a good place
Know beyond space
A certain grace
Sets time in place
In your calm cheer
Love now draws near
In focus clear
Feel how you feel
To know goodwill
That now reveals
In your fond state
Breeze through these gates
To meet due fate
See what you see
That joy may be
True worth set free
In your kind eyes
Such lavish sighs
Caress each high
Think upon hope
That sculpts grand scope
As touch now copes
In your wise wit
Meet each calm hit
That anchors fit
Touch tells of ease
In spacious peace
As light pays lease
In your good times
Embrace each chime
Sketch words that rhyme
Leon Enriquez
08 December 2018
Singapore
Noise in her Mind
I know her so well she came long ago to visit my being
we share beauty and bedlam boudoir and kindest of spirits
She walks like a cat woman hears like a bat feeds birds
quietly she soothes thunder’s volcano howls with the wolves
Klimt’s Kiss Vermeer’s Girl With Pearl Earring Botticelli’s Venus Degas’s
Dancer In Repose Fedro’s Much Better With Age she
absorbs pastel and paint strokes symphonies on canvas
so many facets big bangs and roaring giggling convulsions
Sometimes Woman Laughing from Goya’s dark paintings
a Broken Column like Kahlo’s when some Munch’s Scream
invades and infests silence deep inside her beautiful scull
Voices shout from profuse directions focus condense and
refract confront tease torment disagree and interfere with
calm serene serenades when a few notes tender chords
and accord vanish into cacophonies misleading the song
I know her so well admire her resilience and how she copes
with the noise the disruption and the ballet of so many
different views pandemonious clangour onslaught of turmoil
as she appears calm on the surface orchestrates quiet composure
How she holds it all together I cannot really fathom with all that
jumbling distance so close and yet so far from my innocent mind
My Venus Of Milo has taught me so much most of it all and over
above that imperfection is a wonderful gift and very complete
Watching him sleep
As I silently weep
About old times and fun
Looking 360 degrees at all that he's done
A wonderful life disregarded, tears shattered
His thoughts that nothing he's accomplished has mattered
All the anger and confuse that he's bottled inside
So he took the wrong path and tried desperatly to run and hide
Justice System nailed him and put him on parole
How could people do this to such a beautiful soul?
All the times that we shared
From the hints that he tried to show me he cared
Now he's almost lost and almost hopeless
Like everyday he's trying to explain how he copes less
By himself in a big, big, world alone
Laying his head down anywhere he can call home
I can't imagine the fears that he faces everyday
But still I try to help him in any way
Though right now all I have to offer him is my love
And the gifts of the messages from way up above
However, he doesn't know I feel the same way
How I fear just to live day by day
I know he wants to speak but doesn't know where to start
Because for him and I have too long been apart
So much to say and so little time
So on paper I put it and try hard for it to rhyme
I can tell in his eyes hope is not lost
But I do see his world completely covered in cold, thick, frost
My job here is to warm his heart
And to tell him:
"That no matter what, we'll never be apart."
Kayla shouts Father! Father! I'm here!
Kayla? he cries crouching, arms outspread
I'm here now sweetie, there's nothing to fear
But he wakes to a life far beyond dread
With the world asleep he drives through the night
There's the hospital which offered such hope
Oh, his angel! His God-given delight!
His grief's too deep, but somehow, he copes
Streets still and empty; a brisk Sunday morn
Bland buildings sprouting in cold cement
From natures blessed gift he is shorn
The wound can't heal; was his life truly meant?
Wife and friends seem odd; not fully real
Banal, empty, irksome words swirl
The mirror's harsh truths on his face reveal
He lost his life when he lost his sweet girl
Written 8/25/22
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE CONTEST
Did you ever hear those voices that tell you he's gone,
his love has vanished but just move on,
The bed you shared has become a place of loneliness,
and everything has become your own,
Yet he's still there, just not for you as you work hard for him, but the more you try the more you lose,..hope
that he will come back, and say the three words you so deeply yearn for, but instead,
he says sorry...Instead of an embrace you get nothing, instead of holding you close he ignores you because he has better things to spend his time than fixing an unwanted broken mess.
But, you just wanted to feel close, for him to look you in the eyes and say everything is fine and I love you, I'm sorry, let me hold you while everything feels like it's falling apart but I promise it isn't,
but instead, you sit here alone, instead your questioning everything you have ever known, about him, who is he, the man you loved for eight in a half years feels like a stranger,
So you sit here alone and say nothing as your heart shatters, and keep it to yourself after that because no one needs to know the insecure days have how your brain copes,
Maybe it's better this way,
Maybe even on the best of days isn't worth the pain after,
Maybe it's your fault,
You can't even look him in the eye and say all this because it truly doesn't matter,
Because if it did he would be with you instead of pretending you don't exist.
Happily, Never, After.
She learned to let all of them all go
One by one after each of them let her know.
She learned to let herself finally grow
Day by day, even as she so often felt so low.
She learned to be more independent
From all people who made her despondent.
She learned to hold onto what love meant
Even after the times her love was misspent.
She learned to live life again on her own
After digging up, tossing seeds of love sown.
She learned it wasn't too much was shown,
Just nobody felt what she felt she known.
She learned to let go of all her hopes,
After realizing none can have certain tropes.
She learned to be a shell of a girl that copes
In her despondence, practicing tying ropes.