Long Drag Poems
Long Drag Poems. Below are the most popular long Drag by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Drag poems by poem length and keyword.
What does the grass opine of spring?
wrapped in the grand winter wing.
I'm not sure where my body is in this space.
A green blade on the dog's paw marks its pace.
To unwind, I laid out my quilt on the lawn.
In the shade of a scenic and lovely willow tree.
I admire its long, slender, green leaves at dawn.
which come nearly to the earth surrounding me.
It seems so pretty and starts waving in the air.
while I huddle here, thinking deeply in silence.
A person who trusts being alone may dare.
I've reached the idyllic spot for balance.
Music may lead me to wish to sing and play.
In a flowing waterfall, I find it acrid to pray.
Dewdrops on each grass clip in the dawn calm.
Away off the brine drag and into wooded qualm.
A soft breeze blows across the lawn at dawn.
Singing over charm will attract listeners to you.
If you are lonesome in the middle of the garden.
Whirling over the dead leaves in a drab grass view
We yearn to discover the life force of grass.
How can we reach there before hope is lost?
We can start from here rather than that brass
Then we hand-paint the dead grass with frost.
Located lower for optimal Petrichor sniffing.
Silky blades of grass send me tripping.
Recall forgotten feelings and sensations.
Your hues alter with the sun's emotions.
Faith sprung from the grave of my doubt.
I left acres of remorse behind the devout.
being eaten up by the plentiful grass.
nose twitching in a prelude to a sneeze and pass.
Written: March 19, 2023
Living in Purgatory
What do you do when you've had enough
You Can't end it all
But you no longer want to continue
Because you cant move forward
The pasts grip
is holding you back
But it wants to drag you back
to the pain and misery
But you stand strong
Eager to get going
Eager to move on
But You're stuck
Being held in purgatory
See you're Alive
but you're not Living
Stuck in stagnation
Becoming Stagnant stood still
Feet are firmly rooted to the ground
But while life still runs through you
Blood pumping through your veins
Air inflates and deflates your lungs,
Heart heartedly thumping
Strong thump, thump, thump,
Eyes blinking blink blink
In sync with one another
A statue stuck in the present
Trying to run from the past
To map out a future
But here I remain stuck
Between times tenses
Whose pull will win
The past the present
or the future
Or will I remain here
In the present
Stagnant Stuck
Living my life in purgatory.
Can you see through the lies?
Maybe you can but still deny
Evil likes to hide in plain sight,
Silently killing us with a treacherous blight,
Invading us like a swarm of flies
They coat themselves with sugar, maybe we should revise
Everywhere are their alibis
Hiding in plain sight,
Hidden are their devilish spies
Oh how they trick us and test our might
Appearing as UFO's in the sky
Trying are they, to cause a fright
And drag us away from the light
Demons are they who hide and fool our eyes
Oh how they persist and continue to fight
Why? Because they know their end is nigh
Can't you see they use our minds against us?
Watch out for these things and don't be quick to trust
What I've learned I will share and must
For I wish not for the world to fade to dust
They spread religion just to watch the word of GOD rust
Christianity is the faith and belief in the word of GOD
Not to be twisted by personal opinions into a flaw
Wide is the dragons maw
Vomiting on GODS pure law
Religion was created so that we may be divided
Ever conflicting so that we may be blinded
Its about our relationship with GOD and our neighbors
Not separating and turning into traitors
Love does no wrong to others
So treat your neighbors as sisters/brothers
Religion says you must earn salvation
But hasn't Christ already saved us from our own devastation?
Christ the great redeemer,
Uplifting the believer
The Last Song
I'm so very sorry for what we've become
I'm so very sorry for the damage I've done
The pain inside of you is clear to see
I know that some of it was put there by me
I never meant to hurt you, I'm sorry that made you cry
I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just a messed up guy ??
I hope one day you will finally see it too
When you see the beauty in me like I see in you
You we're the best thing that ever happened to me
I was blinded by love and the damage I failed to see
I didn't mean to drag you into my mess
When I asked you to be my girlfriend you immediately said yes
I'm sure we will pay the price for this one day
Then all of those around us can have their say
I gave you all that I had, but it wasnt enough
You only remember the bad times, and not the beautiful stuff
I hope one day you find your happy place
That place was in front of you staring you in the face
it could have been so beautiful
It could have been so right
I can never repair the damage I inflicted
Where we are now I could never have predicted
We had it all, has it really all gone ?
I'm so very sorry I did you wrong
Maybe one day you come home to me
I will keep the lights on, just waiting to see
Until then, there will be a place in my heart whatever I do
a place that will stay empty a place just for you.
***
Tomorrow you will wake up
drag yourself out of your bed
even when your mind is tired
so is every cell in your body.
Then you will ponder
over the idea of your existence
while your body habitually
gets drenched in hot shower.
May be you will have ideas
of the grand escape you dream of
while you munch your toast
or wonder of your might-be fantasies
while your throat gulps warm coffee.
With lumps of mundane thoughts to puke
while peeking over the traffic enroute
with people buzzing their way through
you will remember that forgotten city
that leaves you wondering who you are.
And when you press buttons on the elevator
you will think of leaving a footprint there
reminiscing the way you breathe atop that old cliff
while your feet walk their way to work
all you have been thinking about is to leave
when you really don't know where to.
But even though your mind is clueless
for discovering another journey
now that you are at the end of one
with all the glory it has offered
you will hope of finding it the next day
while you return to your bed at night.
And with a million oscillations in your mind
like the unwritten pages of your story
you will remember having read somewhere
on a worn-out whiteboard in blue
'Existence is a struggle'
and you will hope to write some day
'But it is worth finding'.
May 9, 2020
For BRIAN'S CHOICE 8,any form,any theme
Winner: Third Place
A dusty town where the shadows creep,
A broken man sits lost in sleep.
Ropes and zip ties lay by his side,
A waitress’s smile now just a ghostly ride.
He dodged the law like a whispering wind,
But the sins of his father found their way in.
And oh, can you hear the silence scream?
A family of jars chasing forgotten dreams.
On Arizona sands where the echoes roam,
Ghosts of lost lives searching for home.
Born on the edge where darkness fell,
A heart full of scars and tales to tell.
A stock clerk’s burden he carried alone,
Wished for freedom but always was thrown.
Scholarship dreams slipped through his hands,
As bottles replaced all his shattered plans.
And oh, can you hear the silence scream?
A family of jars chasing forgotten dreams.
On Arizona sands where the echoes roam,
Ghosts of lost lives searching for home.
Now he sits in a chair with shadows so near,
Lost in memories wrapped up in fear.
His daughter walks streets while he fades away,
Each trick that she turns pulls him further astray.
Minutes drag on like a thief in the night,
Addiction's cold grip steals away all light.
But deep down inside there’s still love to find
Even when darkness has clouded his mind.
And oh, can you hear the silence scream?
A family of jars chasing forgotten dreams.
On Arizona sands where the echoes roam,
Ghosts of lost lives searching for home.
In that quiet place where no one remains,
They’ll meet again free from their chains
Riding together ‘neath an endless sky wide;
Finding solace at last on that other side.
Life Would Keep Going On? (song version of If You Were Gone)
Someday if you ever chose to go,
This is what I would want you to know:
My life would keep going on.
I would allow you to go free,
To be who and where you’d want to be,
Without annoying you or clinging on.
No, I wouldn’t drag myself around,
Mumbling around, staring at the ground.
I’d still drive to work each day.
I’d watch too much television,
Or bury myself in religion,
Because my zest for life would go away.
I’m not saying that I wouldn’t miss you,
Because deep inside I would.
I wouldn’t ever try to replace you--
I wouldn’t even If I could.
My favorite foods would all taste bland,
And I’d cease to play my baby grand.
I’d stop writing songs and poetry.
My house wouldn’t feel like a home;
All it’s pastels would seem monochrome;
And my pictures would seem a mockery
I’m not saying that I wouldn’t miss you,
Because deep inside I would.
I wouldn’t ever try to replace you--
I wouldn’t even If I could.
If you were ever taken from me,
Freed from the bonds of mortality,
I wouldn’t be left behind.
I’d rather be with you up there,
Than without you in any anywhere.
Your loss would always dominate my mind
Skiing Is…
Skiing is…
Alpine thrill ride on four inch boards
Boggy in the bumps – a schuss to the lodge
Carving a turn leaving icy rooster tails in the air
Drag lift to ride on thick moving ropes
Skiing is…
Extreme black diamond runs on endless terrain
Flat hills of green for bunny slopes
Googles of amber for blizzards or flat light
Hardpack and boiler-plate; blue ice and corn snow
Skiing is…
Into the heart of pure mountain splendor
Jet sticks on snowfields under blazing blue skies
Keeping upright avoiding face plants
Lift lines of frustration at chair lifts and gondolas
Skiing is…
Moguls that hide crafty snow snakes
Nordic dance of short swings in fresh powder
Outside skis with a mind of their own
Powder hounds piggin’ through aspen trees
Skiing is…
Quick turns called weidlin from Austrian lore
Runs of legend like K-2 and Exhibition, Wild Child, The Plunge
Sitzmarks the size of a lunar crater
Telemark turns on frosty cross-country trails
Skiing is…
Under the smile of the crystal solstice
Vertical drops into wide open bowls
Weighting unweighting parallel turns
Experts and bunnies apres ski with tall tales
Skiing is…
Yards sales of googles, poles, hats and lost skis
Zest for taking your life in your hands!
2-28-23
Suicide Salads
I walk along the river banks
Whether is the raven’s moon
Or the midnight sun
Doesn’t change the dimensions
That here I walk alone
When I walk past the store
For Louane cher I open the door
Her smile is enticing, so sweet
My suicide will be the later treat
They will look inside my fridge
Lettuce and dressings
Encumbered by cucumbers both fresh and raw
The salad will proclaim life is tall
I went to the club, an all night affair
Danced with all the suicide dolls
They moved their feet, and seductive hips swagged
Sadly who cares my life is a drag
Secrets and salads
Suicide with a fine oiled dressing
Guess I shall miss the next wedding
When you all stare at my recent beheading
Head of lettuce
Death in a salad bowel
This world is a rabbit hole
Riddles and fiddles
Be this the death of me
I am the salad long set free
Notes: For some the world is a world of hope
Others a world of despair
These two abstract concepts always in battle
New and old
Happy and sad
Good and bad
The sadness creeps in
Youth brings back the smiles
Age the cry for peace
Even when this means
Taking ones last breath
Beneath a roof of corrugated sky,
shelves stretch into the haze—
steel sentinels cradling the weight
of repeating cardboard skin.
Sodium lights flicker overhead,
a nervous god with faulty wiring,
casting a pale-yellow glow across the floor.
Refracted rainbows glint
in pooling oil that won't dry.
The air smells of stale rain
buried in the dirt of concrete fields,
and on the tongue
it tastes of metallic memory, oxidized.
A faint click of cooling pipes
syncopates the hum of vents.
Gears scream
ripping through silence,
a warning sound threading the dark.
Conveyor belts drag time,
relentless,
sorting,
without pause.
Surrounded by
pallets stacked high,
of boxes waiting to be read.
Some have dates crossed,
names scratched off—
wrapped and stamped
unclaimed inventory.
Others spill from torn corners,
stained photos—
of metal buckles
and white veils.
I came looking for a box
with a familiar trace—
small handprints,
prayers folded beside lavender wicks,
a letter I forgot I wrote.
I need to know if I’m marked for transit,
or have to stay.
But dust clings to rafters,
settles on shelves,
on forgotten dreams,
gray on gray.
Aisle after aisle,
we could walk forever
and never find our name.
The exit doors seem open.
For the souls on hold,
boxed beneath the cold,
processing signs—
suspended,
longing for the next scan.