Long Daily Poems

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


Fairy of the Poem 2

there is this little nymph of a fairy
that lives between the lines of the poem
takes daily strolls through the stanzas
nature opened in sonnet the day she was born

she takes the written word in so gracefully
raises her glass high in a toast
tells those who will listen all the mysteries
of the poems that stir her soul

if this fairy ever needed a reason
for the rhyme, the time would be now
these darkened days cry for desperate ways
where only a fairy can tell

the purity of the poetic essence
the fragrance that permeates the unknown
the heat that burns in the written word
in the poems that she calls her own
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member You Never Know Me

There's a rumbling in the streets
Crowds scrammble to get away
Outrun can they not
Destruction of bullets spray

A daily headline has become
Mass shooting claims more lives
All these thoughts and prayers
Led only to good-byes

You'll never know me
For I'm no longer here
For a moment, you'll remember
Maybe shed a tear
You'll never know me
Or who I could become
Taken out by a bullet
I had no chance to outrun

People cry in the streets
Demand justice and change
Found only is resistance
No desire for productive exchange

Blame becomes the focus
It's not the guns they say
People pull the trigger
Still here we are, another bloody day

You'll never know me
For I'm no longer here
For a moment, you'll remember
Maybe shed a tear
You'll never know me
Or who I could become
Taken out by a bullet
I had no chance to outrun

Own your guns 
Envoke your right
There's no coming back 
Upon losing fight or flight

I never wanted your guns
Never wanted this pain
Complacent bleeds red
All hands now stained

You'll never know me
For I'm no longer here
For a moment, you'll remember
Maybe shed a tear
You'll never know me
Or who I could become
Taken out by a bullet
I had no chance to outrun

@CherylBousquet 9/1/2019
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Take Me

Away
From the fray
Tear drops on me soul’s windows
Blood droplets from wounded displays

I, me, all of my being
Drowned with the pain of no longer believing
When hope has died, from those many famines
What pray tell is left to fathom?

Oceans deep
Mountains steep
Maidens only left to weep
While Knights make their daily keep

		Life
			gone
				far
					away

The seminar of the dead
We shall weep for those still away

		Love lost
		Lost lovers
		White doves
		Doves fly away


Hold hands with those in need
	please dont make them plead
		love is grand if you know is a seed
			Smile, for that’s a food that feeds


In the nights of long ago
In lands that hold tales that never let go
Let me rest there, and let me be
I lost my love, let me hold onto sanity

Tis a rose, tis a thorn
The romantic always left forlorn

Premium Member Wake

Wake

What is that noise?
I have heard it before?
In the ramblings...
of my loved ones words? 

I must get up and seek it out.
I rise like the house is on fire...
but in fear of being alive, 
but dead still. 
I rush.
I place my slippers on my feet, 
I grab my robe and run!

Not slowly in fear...
Not adequately... 
Not up-a-dee; with pride and pomp.
Not with class or finesse, 
but desperation, 
that I will not,
ever...
hear it,
ever again.

It will be so fast, 
It will not last...
Light would be considered slow. 
As this was the very Essence of 
the brightness that brings light at all...

Humbly I cry, 
and drop to my knees...
as I... now... am... sure..! 
All my "no's" were without weight, 
they had no value, 
and my soul is ablaze, 
and bleeding out. 

Don't leave precious Savior...
Don't leave me here. 
Take me...

Now.
My wife she is missing in our bed. 
My son and daughter are gone. 
I hold my head in my hands, 
weeping for my own tenacity. 
The stubbornness of my own strength. 
The all too importance of my own will.
I am without...
lonely has no definition as to the emptiness, 
perceived daily. 
I am...
is
gone. 

Only it is here, 
and it is always hungry. 
And must be fed.

"Mercy..." 
No breath to speak. 
"Grace..."
A soul 
anguished.

I clutch the pages of the word, 
found ready at hand...
until "they" find it and me, 
and burn it out, or try,
Memorizing each line, 
writing it all, 
down...
to where, 
I am,
now.




Lord, I believe in You. 
You came to save all of us. 
Born of a virgin, died on a cross and rose to heaven. 
In Jesus Holy Name!Amen.
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Under the Breath of the Cursed

Within lofty daily trials, life always in check

gaze at self-made walls; stare up at the swinging bulb.

Chastising of milestones, beaten within submission

artful weaving of whispers waking from a deeper sleep.

Questioned emotions on ice; travel within a dark compass

where in the hell am I; queries shuffle on downward.

Dissected voices in a breeze; breathless inhales unshaken

blowing kisses to a blue moon; poison barbs on a comet's tail.

Blown away with red leaves; tinge of orange and yellows

fog clears in a rising sun; shaking off that amnesia haze.

Eyes opening very slowly; hazy gaze focuses on shadows

white sheet covering the cold body; icy shallow breathing now.

Straps bind loosely on wrists; I can't seem to move or speak

getting easier to force a breath; strength rises for the very weak.

Heroin grasped my soul again; pitted freak with rotted flesh,

forgotten on the morgue table; please, just needle me to death.


Premium Member The Couple Who Lived In 4-E

Behind caution tape, I stand in the shade
watching a wrecking ball, tethered to sway
And soon with a gasp from the crowd standing by
A piece of the past is ready to die

I am seeing a lifetime, as it falls to the ground
the old tenement house, on Avery Street

For years it was home, to folks across town
Rarely do people now straddle it's shores
Where the root-buckled sidewalks lead up to the doors
And feet skipped over the cracks, with swift daily chores

All the chalked hopscotch lines have since washed away
along with laughter and the gold of the day
Summertime colors have withered and fled
Into bruised, battered bricks, of memories bled

Now, forsaken, this dethroned queen
With broken limbs and shattered eyes
of shards of glass, and broken lives 
Still haunt the northwest wing

Thick layers of dust, cover the limpid leaves
of an old silk rose, within a vase
and reminds the gloom of dime store trips
when the passing lives, that used to be
were alive with simple certainty

A curtain, torn, hangs by a thread
and shivers, laced within the wind
A haven, built, of brick and clay
Defaced, disgraced, red-brick decay

Each story told, each life it held
Now crumbles with each stone, once laid

There were some who still remember, well
The ones who lived above the rim
By whom you could set the clock
By footsteps walked on wooden stairs
Who made this place a home

Now far away, the gossips say 
"Their health had failed, such hell to pay
For now it seems to live each day
Someone has to tell them...
When to eat, when to dress and when to bathe"

People had watched them come and go
It was always with hand in hand...
Their music was heard between the cracks
Mozart, Bach, Glenn Miller bands

They had lived here forty years or more
Or so the legend goes....
No one really knows for sure, but know it was for years...

But now a flower in a vase
Is covered dust to dust
The lights turned off, no sigh, no trace...
with windows black, and lyrics lost

The wave that came, went back to sea
Like the hopes that fade away
Tomorrow's dreams have come and gone
to leave a winter's song
And is the only thing that holds the years
From waning into none....



___________________________________

Our Love

Will our love be like the tide, sweeping changes
taking us to distant lands? the beach washed clean
daily...

Will our love be like the rivers eddy, swirling
circles, lazy fish, sparkling sunlight?

Will our love be like the falls? Dropping, wearing,
damned and released at times? A merry pounding sound
with rushing crashing and rocks...

Will our love be like the calm still pool, filled
again by the rains but green and stagnating at times?
Where the bugs and tadpoles breed...

Love can be all those things, and each in its time.

Just give me this.. Enough to float on, and a steady
supply. Don't leave me with thirst to die.

our love - 1-28-2005 (C) Artimus Susan Manley

Premium Member Heart of Honesty

Those who are completely truthful on the inside
will obtain the valuable draw of a quelled side
Their actions will be authentic and trustworthy
and will earn the respect of others as being worthy.

Integrity shines on the convoluted path of life
It will triumph despite life's continuous strife
Despite the situation, the mind utterly attacks
Sincere candor is always fruitful in all tracks.

Sincerity in our hearts will drive us to do all right
Causing an abundant and fruitful life path sight
May we all strive to learn and exhibit integrity,
helping us achieve success in our daily disparity.

Integrity is acting right without being seen
Integrity frees you, as there is little unseen.

Written: May 3rd, 2023
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

2 Bit Psychic

I've got 2 bit psychic powers
On that just trust me
Where barely beyond my nose
Is how far into the future I can see

And as far as communicating goes
With those on the other side
I have a hard enough time talking with
Loved ones here in life

My bank account is so low
I can't afford a Crystal ball
The closest thing I have to that
Is the glass knob on my door

Where the only reflection in it
That I have ever seen
Is my sweaty palm print
As I daily take my leave

And when it comes to Tarot cards
I would never dare to touch
The only pictures that I like
Are those in comic books

So sit across the table
And gaze into my eyes
You'll see I'll be a 2 bit psychic
Until the day I die

Death With Only Oneself To Blame

Death comes to us all

I know 

I am not that dumb 

I just feel or see no point at this
particular time rubbing the fact in

This is in fact the second funeral
I have been to this week alone 

It's just that now I am slowly getting
older myself

It's steadily brought it somehow closer
to home 

That one day soon I myself will alas
also be dead and gone

And probably not many people will too
my funeral come

As never was or have I been married
or had any children of my own

And that is both a sad but true reflection
and sobering reality of my life

Not even the flower sellers will probably
remember me as everyone else that
I have known or met

As I have not even anything to leave
behind apart from a barrel load of
regret and endless disappointment

To cover and fill my grave and coffin
up with

Yes most certainly death comes to us
all indeed that is an unequivocal fact

Only difference being some amongst
us will tragically be missed

Whereas there are others of those of us
who won't

And that is no 1 else but our own fault
we have no 1 else other than ourselves 
to blame in the end

We reap and gain out of life what we
put in and sow 

As apart and apart from in this here life
where the good stand out 

In death we are all the same difference
being we are all dead and no 1 cares at all 

There is no further to fall from grace
whence we are firmly entrenched

6 feet under ground with the living
carrying on about with their daily
business and life as per usual above

Hopefully taking and learning precious
and valuable lessons from our mistakes

And not left paying the price for the ones
we left behind that even our death was
unable to fix and put back together

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