Long Creative Poems
Long Creative Poems. Below are the most popular long Creative by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Creative poems by poem length and keyword.
My famous Tacos
Made as a younger Child
In the kitchen cooking
Preparation for a while
As I prepare that dish
My Siblings amongst me too
I cooked my Tacos
This is what I would do.
A special creative sauce
Made by my Sister
Until this day I remember
The gatherings, the smiles
The laughter, The jokes
Worth the while
My Dad and Mom were present
Just relaxing and observing.
Until this day, I am still cooking Tacos
One of my favorite dishes of all
Having fun while preparing
After many years of sharing
Cooked with love and caring.
My old recipe
A lot of people seem to enjoy
An old recipe made with love
Forevermore and evermore.
Dear Poetry,
What would I do without you?
You have been my avenue of self-expression,
My platform to release confessions,
And an outlet to aid me in my own emotional healing.
How can I ever repay you
For the countless times you have saved me,
The creative writer you have made me,
And the ways in which you have given me hope
When I felt my world crumbling down around me?
It is in this art form that I claim my purpose,
The reason I can bring my words to the surface,
That enables me to push past the pain with a pin—
My deepest thoughts within,
Impatiently waiting to be placed on paper.
Dear Poetry,
You are my voice when I can’t speak,
My strength whenever I am weak,
And my courage that allows me to be just who I am, despite what others may think of me
I am now and forever grateful for letting go—
Letting go of what no longer serves me: a state of mind once deemed unworthy, now discarded, where value of self has taken its place.
And though at times, thoughts of doubt still echoes in my mind, like the footsteps in an empty hallway, it is with this pin, that I have learned how to quiet the negative thoughts within
Skipping down the road to the tulip bed
I marvel at the sun’s warmth on my back.
Spied one geranium, color of red.
Next to the gardener’s tool shed, a shack.
Some neighbors joined me on nature’s full quest,
Skipping down the road to the tulip bed
Come along, I said, you can be my guest.
Saw pretty garden faerie amply fed.
Such a beautiful garden, people said.
Absolutely one hundred percent right.
Skipping down the road to the tulip bed,
We saw such pretty flowers, big and bright.
Thanks for letting me come along, they said.
My soul felt creative, avidly fed.
By the tulips and geranium red,
Skipping down the road to the tulip bed.
I see the light of the morning dawn
Rising across the mountains of emerald
Daylight comes, cutting through the
Silence, whispering a caress across
A azure sky which beckons to the heart
To listen and feel the grace that appears
With the fluid, humble touch of
Hope filling the morning’s ambiance
Hues of heavenly sapphire and cerulean
Misting the ridges with impressions of
Stillness found in the voice of One who
Rides on clouds of harmony, keeping
Serenity awake and alive within the soul
Who knows what it is to breathe in feelings
Of musical notes shaded by the painter’s
Brush, which touches down on the surface
Of pulsations which long to break free from
Melancholy and sigh softly through the breeze
Which answers the sun’s dance along the
Raptures with a creative gesture from the
Pen who feels so strongly it erases the night
As sunshine erases the moon’s glow and reaches
Down with a touch of pure hope that knows
God lives in the heart who knows that this sun
Is merely one more echoing reflection from the
One who looks down on souls with the assurance
That this day will give back gentle colors of love
Lingering on the surface of a beginning for the
Day which reaches out to destiny with faith!
You came by to give her a surprise.
Her shorts and top were a feast for the eyes.
She says he was there to teach her trig.
Your doin' the jealousy jig!
She tells amazing stories, but alas,
This ain't a creative writing class.
To catch her is to catch a greased pig,
And you're doing the jealousy jig!
The smile on her face sure makes you wary,
Looks like the cat that ate the canary.
You wonder if that guy's really so big.
That's the jealousy jig!
Suddenly, she's getting so hard to reach,
Says she doesn't want to be on your leash.
Better get yourself a different gig,
'Cuz you're doing that jealousy jig!
Creative Cultivation
Nothing ever stays the same, here today caught in snares of life like whips and chains. They say God is in him but it hurts to change. Here is the time for a new beginning let your spirit be free to lead, until creativity takes root to sprout the branches like a tree. In need of new inspiration I call it down from above fill an empty spirit fly away like doves. It didn’t last with that special someone; so I went back to creativity like it was my first love. We are the perfect couple getting between us is like asking for trouble, best friends for ever we go together, will our creative friendship ever end probably never. You see letters and words are my creative cultivation, the calm to every patience, doctor to every patient, and the voice to all commands, broadcast to every station.
“How can a bus driver not notice that a child is still on the bus? When a bus driver takes the bus back to the garage, they are supposed to make a sweep over every row. “ Quote by poet.
Children, our hope and dreams.
Some of us spoil and make a fuss;
Our streams full of knowledge that beams.
We go to extremes to keep them safe.
We send them to school so, they can learn
in a creative safe and respectful environment.
Their little brains churn all that they do yearn.
We trust those adults to keep our children safe.
We wait at the bus stop for the bus to arrive.
The bus slowly comes to a stop, the doors swing open.
Children excited to be home after a hard day with a high-five.
Our hearts into shock when our child doesn't walk out.
4/19/2024
What does it take to write a poem,
a format, a principle perhaps imagination,
If like me you make it up going along,
can turn into a leaning conflagration.
Sparks in the first verse are starting points,
but might fade out with a whimper,
Thought I had something going there,
too complicated, let’s try something simpler,
I need fresh kindling, to create a flash,
not just latent potential,
Good starting to catch, providing a glow,
but much more fuel is essential.
Lightning strike out of nowhere,
creative thoughts bring more accelerant,
Flames appear radiating tepid heat,
a little crude, requiring elegance.
This fire is burning all my reserves,
morphing into a raging inferno,
Now spreading out of control gone wild,
lacking containment and tempo,
Ok ease off the gas, take deep breaths,
attempt to regain composure,
Boy almost lost it there,
must keep in surrounded enclosure.
On the home straight my poem’s on fire,
nice and steady, aflame at last,
Time for crescendo, pull it all together,
along comes a draught.....blast!
By
David Kavanagh
Where is William Earl Davis?
He was one of my best friends growing up
From first grade to twelve grade
Where are you William Earl?
You whom nickname was Merle
Pray you’re alive and doing well
Where are you William Earl Davis?
Your works, you craft so courageous
This is not a web
Not natural, not satin nor silk
Where are you
William Earl?
He’s my brethren, I often wonder-wondering
How you are, where you are
Web William Earl Davis
Are you yet famous
Are you known you left for New York?
Creative individual yes you knew/know your craft
You were Head, the Director of Lafern Williams Center
In Omaha, Nebraska
Will if your alive Happy Birthday bro
We wrote many songs together
We were in ROTC too
We even tried to audition for Motown Records
But they were not accepting
So in your adult life you’re acting and directing
Where are you William Earl Davis?
Your works, you craft so courageous
This is not a web
Not natural, not satin nor silk
Where are you
William Earl?
He’s my brethren, I often wonder-wondering
How you are, where you are
Web William Earl Davis
Remember back in the day
We would role play
Draw and write comics too
It was you brother Phoenix
Whom got us (me) collecting comics
Where are you
William Earl?
He’s my brethren, I often wonder-wondering
How you are, where you are
Web William Earl Davis
So if you’re alive now you’ll just a few weeks left 65
Lastly again I will say Where are you?
William Earl?
He’s my brethren, I often wonder-wondering
How you are, where you are
Web William Earl Davis
I don’t have Facebook or any other social media
Don’t have your address or phone number
All I have are those memories
Of all those good times we’ve had
So hope you’re still a Play-Director
And all things with you are good no better
Happy Birthday
My friend my brother you’re courageous
Happy Birthday-William Earl Davis
12/03/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
RESPONSES
microcosm
show
in a still
life
exotic
emblems
in
magnificent
detail
creative
durable
meaning
a
closer
experience
the
essence
of succession
so
characteristic
&
sensual
reflecting
the
unexpected
positioned
discovered
with
undivided
attention
DISTRACTIONS
expressive
resonations
rhythm
reverberating
structuring
contours
process
the potential
in
prevai
prevailing
one-dimensional
straightened
imitative
balanced
&translated
appearance
in the abstract
TRADITIONS
prevailing
so naturally
start anew
singularly
profoundly
free
filling
the organic
with
decorative
linearity