Long Decade Poems
Long Decade Poems. Below are the most popular long Decade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Decade poems by poem length and keyword.
Flashing memory of pretty little faces,
Touching eloquence of paint- brushes
Sounds of the gentle wind on the tree leaves
And I whispered, "Poet, will you tell me about a poem you loved once?"
Mingling with vibes of rainbow colors, so serene!
A drizzling rain, pouring on, never soaks thoroughly, none,
The sad flute vibrates through the air, drags from worldly muse...
And I whispered, "Poet, will you tell me about a poem you loved once?"
Memory carries the smell, the fragrance, the flavor of the taste
And all words bypassed as the smoke rose from the decorated tea pot....
I recalled your face then, could hear your natural tone, sweet and dense.
And I whispered, "Poet, will you tell me about a poem you loved once?"
Although, numerous moments of efforts, yet, maybe one day
A critic will cry out to pause," it is nothing at all, nay!"
Till that moment of sheer pain, for a single time, let me guess
And I whispered, "Poet, will you tell me about a poem you loved once?"
A faraway, precious tune aged a decade ago, still fades away...
Life, then, was carefree and joyful, feels like only yesterday,
Seagulls, floating on the sky, an epic view of the deep, foamy sea....
A journey to reach the lonely saint, most profound passion of spree!
This is for all those who are trying to survive whatever traumas they've been put through. Please take care and be gentle with yourself. Healing takes time, space, compassion, forgiveness, self-care and self-love. Blessings.
Live with Hope and Faith
By Michelle Morris
27/02/2024
Look at the girl with the sunny smile
That girl with the saddest eyes
She does such a great job at helping everyone else
And yet she's always alone when the bough breaks
You'd never suspect that her heart's breaking
You'd never imagine she needs saving
But having courage and being strong
Is sometimes not a choice of our own
Every single day that tumbles into another year
She survives and grows through her tears
Every single trauma and heartbreak
Reminds her to live with Hope and Faith
Life can be funny, life can be strange
Life can be beautiful, life can be framed
We have experiences, we collect memories
We have a mortal body, a soul for eternity
And every person gets to choose
To live their dreams and their truths
Or to live in fear and limitations
It all depends upon our orientation
But sometimes Fate and Destiny
Have different paths for you and me
Our Love and Light gets fully tested
To focus us on Grace and Mercy
Look at the girl with the sunny light
That kind girl with the wisest eyes
She is always there when they need her
And yet she's alone through endless seasons
You'd never suspect that her heart needs more
You'd never imagine she needs to be adored
But having strength and resilience
Is developed through endless independence
Every single year that tumbles into another decade
She thrives and flows through her Grace
Every single situation and sadness
Reminds her to use her gifts with gladness
© Michelle Morris, 2024
No acknowledgement could be
commensurate nar e'er
equivalent to countless years (scores of orbitz
of unexplored wonder) – left...
(with millstones around neck)
to atrophy on severe truncated
limb mitts, now cause
for silent lachrymose as this
brother doth brook a wake
his pained self actualization
(particularly predicated on
decade number six
unavoidably approaching) uptake
analogous to 2001 A Space Odyssey,
when closing scene
of the film - image of embryonic
"Starchild" left a slake
king unshakable reverberation
Also Sprach Zarathustra
echoing in me noggin since
opening soundtrack did quake
of a much younger self, when seeing
the movie did overtake
puzzlement until I read the book
"aha" awareness did make
that minor mystery resolved, and
now childhood's end keepsake
recalled as the time thy vulnerable
psychological state did intake
pelting asteroid storm cratering a boy
who shied away, to forsake
growing up, and now haunted (akin
to ghost of Marley) not "FAKE"
shackled to an un freed spirit, that
got squelched as if a sudden brake
got jammed propelling this then puny
body electric...now doth ache.
I have pieces of sewing machines all over my house.
Most of the pieces are there, but not all of them,
Of course I do not discover this until I want to use them.
One is missing the front dial,
Another is missing the thing that holds the bobbin in.
A third is all there except for the pressure foot, which is sort of needed.
Pieces which were taken off by curious children, or lost by me.
It is hard to say which,
Missing pieces nonetheless,
Annoying when I want to hem something once or twice a decade.
So off to the store I go when I want to fix something or make something or something.
To pick up another sewing machine.
As you can imagine, I always buy a cheap one.
Your intricacies fearfully and wonderfully wrought so well,
Sweet child, sweet daughter, greatly priced pearl,
You’re a darling, a sweetheart, my dearest ‘Mabel’,
Like your name, prayer born - meaning ‘Beautiful Girl’.
And that endless innocence in your scintillating eyes,
Each time I cup your face in my palm,
Fails not, that ‘in-depth love’ to catch me by surprise,
For your essence and your presence is my life’s balm.
Your life’s my very breath because you are my heart,
Though time beaten, these faculties, limbs, and grey,
Yet that smile rekindles in me like a burning spark,
To stand, to love, and to give to you my everyday.
The clear pictures, taken by the satellite orbiting around Mars
for over a decade, have finally arrived here and fascinated us.
The Sphinx head in Egypt and the one on Mars have many veritable similarities...
wouldn't you agree? But who built the one the Red Planet: the extraterrestrials?
Leave that to the imagination, or try to solve the mystery of the ancients;
now, don't assume that life will be found there despite those striking images.
Although scientists speculate that Mars has water, only facts are a true possibility;
no assumption can come close to such a reality, if it hasn't been explored entirely.
Until NASA builds another spaceship and sends more brave astronauts into space,
we must hold our breath,...'till they return with proof of another extraordinary race.
i could stare at your very photogenic (albeit invisible) countenance all day (or mice elf Stuart Little as a poor substitute), all week, the entire month, this remaining year, at least one additional decade, boot no more than a century21!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Looking for a best friend, or...a wurst (liver) re: enemy.
brief bio Matthew Scott Harris doth briefly sketch
almost two win a half score years since me being:
Born January 13th, 1959
I shake my shaggy hirsute hair
in utter disbelief, when the cocked arrow
begat thine conception,
when meal ate mum and octogenarian papa
begat their second offspring and only son,
what now seems to be a stepped-up pace,
where father time doth affix another candle to blow
where the passage of life measured
in swiftly tailored decades
denoting another birthday,
when with the blink of an eye,
I vividly recall crow
wing like a Lil whippersnapper of a boy
leisurely playing monopoly
for make-believe dough...
--------------------------------------------
nothing ranks as the greatest gift
since being a father twenty-one years ago
then bearing witness to grow
increasing autonomy
of my two precious daughters
whereby each will become master
of their domain, and meet a loving beau
(actually thy eldest dates
a delightful young man
from Puerto Re Coe),
whom intuition discerns would be
a near perfect match –
and this papa intuits dough
nuts to dollars – that such an
em man hint gentle, humble,
intelligent lad – doth hoe
pa fully become the future groom
of said firstborn, (which outcome I know
wing couched in a couple of poems
sent his way, and no doubt his smarts lo'
and behold revealed the slightly obscure wish),
where love doth most obviously abound mo'
then prevailed between myself and bride o'
mine these last deuce score
plus (21+) years, but now this Poe
whit aspires to recognize the worthiness of she,
whose chose thyself as a lifetime
groom cuz peaceful status quo
avoiding animosity –
as thyself and spouse gently row
merrily...merrily...merrily
our quiet quite rickety craft
which oft times in the past needed a tow
off the craggy shoals of constant woe.
You hand me the bracelet without meeting my eyes -
A wordless expression that betrays the casualness between us.
It's a symbol, a sign
That you haven't forgotten.
My face burns with emotion and I quickly turn to face the sea
As decade-old feelings crash through my veins.
I open my palm to find a string of blood-red roses -
Ten bakelite buds that threaten to bloom.
The cold December wind suddenly reminds me of my present.
I know I'm breaking the rules by accepting this gift –
The red rose is an ancient symbol of intention,
Of love stronger than thorns.
But this is precisely why
I can't hand it back.
Courting the illicit, I place it on my wrist.
I am shackled.
Later that night, after you've gone,
I lie next to him in the dark and count the buds between my fingers,
Like rosary beads.
Each one a prayer to the past,
A commemoration of our communion.
A decade here,
I smell the the fragrance of the dwelt air.
I am going to miss this refuge
Crying became a task, huge.
I wish not to
Though I wanted to.
For the happiness I found
Had silenced my crying sound.
I wish to take this beauty
Which my eyes observed as a duty.
I wish to take the pure water
Which soothes and makes better.
I wish I take this soft sand
That greases hope on my hand.
My bid is to take a thing
That may read everything.
As I leave this hope full place
Just in case....just in case...
I need to remember
The land that took me a member.
The ship is now leaving with a loud clamor
I relished the comfort of humor.
In my hand... I took the sand
To rhyme my saving Island.
It’s been over nine years now
That the coup against Trump
Has been rolling and rolling on
Relentlessly.
First we had Russiagate
Starting at the very tip top
Flowing down the Deep State slope to
Settle into an investigation
Which did nothing
But tie up a legitimately elected administration
For years.
Then came the actual coup
With stolen election
And trumped up insurrection charges.
And when it became clear Trump wasn’t done
We got lawfare at it’s best,
Over and over again.
And when that failed
At least two assassination attempts
Certainly got everyone’s attention.
Today the lies of those infected with TDS
Continue to flow
Simply because nothing has changed
Within their minds,
And likely never will.
Is this a significant threat to law and order?
No, because the only ones with power today
Carrying on the coup
Are the media,
That is if you ignore the dozen or so states
Which carry on the resistance
Like WWII Japanese soldiers
Stranded on some island without a clue
The war they fought and lost ended long ago.
And yet the coup flows on
Soon to enter it’s second decade,
Which has to be a record
For any first world nation.
(8/22/25)