Long Drag out Poems
Long Drag out Poems. Below are the most popular long Drag out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Drag out poems by poem length and keyword.
Summer stands for beaches, parks, and camping.
In June most flowers will be in full bloom,
Zinnias, Begonias, and sweet-scented
Zephyranthes share every color, while
Lavender freshens the air with each breeze.
In July, a thirsty sun sips dewdrops,
Night deposited upon the moist blades of
Grass that now sparkle in dawn's breaking light.
Hot, humid, and sultry, describe August's
Oppressive, sweaty, sticky, seek shade days,
Thank God, the public pools stay open late.
Summertime's for fun and relaxation,
Under the shade of your favorite tree.
Many find that the warm weather somehow
Makes them feel more connected to nature,
Especially if they flee the city,
Rather than stay in a concert hotbox.
Dog days of summer drag out the heat
And the chilled breath of fall sounds appealing.
Yet, I'll take summer's heat over winter's
Snow anytime, I’m no fan of the cold.
(Acrostic)
06/14/2020
I’ll SIT UNDER THIS TREE HOPING SOMEONE MIGHT STOP AND TALK TO ME
I’M TIRED OF BEING ALONE AND IT’S OH SO LONESOME AT HOME
MAYBE THEY MIGHT CARE AND HAVE A LITTLE TIME TO SHARE
WE COULD GO SIT DOWN IF WE COULD FIND A SEAT SOMEWHERE
I THINK I’LL BUILD A BENCH WHERE WE CAN SIT AND SHOOT THE BREEZE
TALK ABOUT WORLD PROBLEMS AND OUR SORE BACK AND KNEES
WE CAN TELL STORIES AND FIBS EMBELISHING THE PAST
DRAG OUT EVERY WORD TO MAKE EACH SHORT STORY LAST
IF YOU GOT NOWHERE TO GO AND NO PLACE TO BE
COME SIT ON MY BENCH THERE’S ROOM NEXT TO ME
I BUILT MY BENCH SO ANYONE CAN FIT
IT’S THE PERFECT PLACE TO REST AND SIT
RELAX A WHILE TAKE A LOAD OFF YOUR FEET AND MIND
ENJOY THE SOLACE THAT’S WAITING HERE TO FIND
IF YOUR LEGS ARE GETTING TOO TIRED WHEN YOU WALK
HEAD BACK TO MY BENCH TO SIT SOME MORE AND TALK
THIS BENCH WILL LAST FOREVER I BUILT IT OUT OF STONE
IT WAS MADE TO BE SHARED NOT JUST SAT ON ALONE
"The painting is her. Her ruin, my hunger. Every stroke on the canvas carves her deeper into me. I own her screams now."
I don't mind saying the ing word now.
I’ve been an *******—
it doesn't ing matter.
The painting on the wall taunts me,
staring, silent, brutal—
reminding me of her.
Of the way she smiled
before I crushed it.
Of the way her eyes used to beg—
God, I miss it.
She broke me.
I shattered her worse.
And still—
I'm not ready to let her go.
I don’t want to.
I don’t know how.
The tears I drag out of her—
holy, violent things,
falling from lips that still curse my name.
She hates me.
Maybe I hate her too.
But hate has teeth and claws,
and love just lies there, bleeding.
Apologies rot
on the tip of my mouth,
waiting, festering.
I could say I'm sorry.
I could beg.
But damn it,
I love to make her cry.
Her sobs are mine.
Her ruined voice is mine.
She’s mine.
Mine to cage.
Mine to ruin.
Mine to break until there’s nothing soft left.
No one else gets to bleed her.
No one else gets to call her broken
Only me
Soon the sun will shine
Through the east facing blinds
I haven't worked in seven months
Yet, I rise every day before him
And write a poem or two
The ceiling fan wobbles
Finches, sparrows and a cooing dove
Greet the dawn
Sweet morning love
Best time for me
Should be waking up in cooler climes
Shoulda been coulda been woulda been
Gone by now
But for this old house
Drug off a mountain top
From a mining camp
That got scraped away
And dumped across the highway
Miner's shack really
Bought it for about
One year's teaching salary
In 1995
Kept all its 100 year old doors
Crystal doorknobs and skeleton key locks
Stripped away the lath and plaster
Took out some walls, moved another
Replummed, rewired
Refinished wood floors
Put down some maple
Added on some rooms
Guarded it all with white pickets
It has it's charm
Why I fought to keep it
Quit my job in Vegas
Retired altogether
So I could stay here
I don't know
Funny like that
Usually don't care
Pretty good at it
But this old house in this old town
I do
Although right now I wish I were
Dwellung somewhere north
Grand Tetons,Yellowstone, Glacier
Somewhere cold
Got my eldest daughter in Montana
But I'm here near my youngest
And her baby
Son just got back from Kuwait
He and my favorite daughter in law
Coming to visit from NY
Wants her dad here for barbeque Wednesday
Golf, then dinner out and a pub crawl Thursday
She's good to my son--good to everyone really
Si she gets what she wants
I'll put a shine on the place
Marinate a prime rib for the big easy
Buy her tequila, his whiskey, some beer
And get a tee time
I'm happy
I could be snuggled up in the cold
On a pine scented morning
Be fishing before the sun hits the water
But no one would come see me
Guess I'd fight again
For this old house
Sun's beating the blinds
It's garbage day
Gotta drag out the bin
Two whole bags
Higher trash fee now than
When the house was full
(Sigh)
Constantly misunderstood
doesn't mean I hate them
or they don't love me
we are just oil and water
incapable to make perfect emulsion
even though trying hard is not questionable
at the each end we walk out divided
continuously misinterpreted
race against your walls
leaves me in bruises
which drag out mine worst
and I can't stand those mirrors where
your perception of me becomes my reflection
words are metamorphosed in winging daggers
I'm always the one with apple on the top of the head
confidence that you are trained not to hurt me
doesn't decrease sorrow for your choice of the game
you know
I'm wearing that apple deliberately, but you ...
have you got valour for envision
how far is it from my ceasing to stand still?
When I imagined what it would
be like to be a writer,
I saw myself hunched over a
typewriter with bourbon on the
rocks sweating a ring onto my desk.
I could smell the ink on my fingers
and feel the burn of alcohol in my gut
and hear the keys clapping, a standing ovation
for the poor sad boy who wrote wings onto
his back and flew away from the red mud county.
But it's quiet here.
I sit alone at my desk and I reach into my guts
and I grab fistfuls of blood and viscera
and the keys don't move
I choke up the rage my father left in me
and the keys don't move
I cut out the fear my mother so lovingly placed
and the keys don't move
I drag out every black eye, bloody nose, and split lip I ever earned, every fight I lost, every single argument I had, every sunset I was a brother beneath, every truck cab I ever fell in love in and
THE KEYS DO NOT MOVE
She lays in bed and wipes the tears
From her eyes
Her lips are raw and puffed up
She plays her music really loudly
So she can try and feel nothing.
Sad and lonely
She always seems so hollow and scared to
Sleep afraid that she
Won't wake up tomorrow.
And what do you do?
When no one listens to you
And bruises turn to scars
And you feel that hope is lost.
The world is closing in
And you're losing all your friends
Feel so helpless because the war
Inside is endless.
No matter what you say
How many times you proved
You'd go that extra mile
They never believed in you.
Never good enough
They wanna take away
What made you
And break you
Down.
And what do you do?
When no one listens to you
And bruises turn to scars
And you feel that hope is lost.
The world is closing in
And you're losing all your friends
Feel so helpless because the war
Inside is endless.
The dark and endless nights
The knockdown drag out fights
Countless screaming matches in
Between the singing of lullibies.
She has no more strength
Its been taken all away
She wants to run so far
But it always ends the same.
And what do you do?
When no one listens to you
And bruises turn to scars
And you feel all hope is lost.
Losing all your friends
Drowning feeling helpless
The war inside your mind
Is endless.
She puts her headphones in
She plays her music way to loud
So she can drown out the fighting
Of her parents
Going at it again now.
Its happened so many times before
She always ignored it until
She found her mother
Face down upon the floor.
And what do you do?
Donald and Ronald were identical twins. Growing up, they did
everything together. They were not only brothers; they were
best friends. It was almost like they were the same person
because they would say things simultaneously without looking
at each other. It was like they could read each other's minds;
it was creepy.One day everything changed on their 18 birthday.
They had an all-out-drag-out fight; everyone was shocked. No
one thought anything could come between them. They parted
ways on that day, Donald joined the Army, and Ronald joined
the Air Force. Until this day, no one really knows what the ar-
gument was about. Rumor said it was about a girl. They came
from a family that lives long. They both lived to be one hundred
and something years of age. They didn't speak to each other for
over eighty years.The twins left this world not reconciling.
Donald was my great, great uncle and I never really knew him;
I only knew of him. I felt like if I had gotten to know him I
would be betraying my granddad Ronald. In hindsight, I wish
I had betrayed him because life is too short. I wish grandad
and uncle Donald weren't so darn stubborn. Because grandad
missed his twin.
Alexis Y.
08/7/2021
One thousand & one souls!
Treading along my endless road,
Are you going to my stream
To drag out all my fishes?
When they saw me, they laughed;
Then, I’ld kill a thousand of them;
One thousand to die for laughter:
Laughing at my thing all day long!
One thousand & one birds!
Flying along my endless road,
Heading for my forest then:
To perch on all my trees?
When they saw me they sang;
Then, I’ld feed a thousand of them;
One thousand to grow for song:
Singing solely for me all day long!
One thousand & one fishes!
Swimming inside my endless stream,
Heading for my sea then:
To swim in all my waters?
When they saw me they danced;
Then, I’ld feed a thousand of them;
One thousand to grow & dance:
Dancing solely for me all day long!
Some think that I am mad;
Yet only mad people laugh at others:
One thousand & one souls!
When they saw me they laughed.
Better are my thousand singers;
Better are my thousand dancers;
Than all the laughter at my thing:
Songs & dances are better than thinking!
O, I’ve not been to the sea:
For long long time I miss my sea!
Ha! I’ve not been to the bush:
For long long time I miss my bush!
Tell mother, I’m gone to sing;
Tell father, I’m gone to sing;
On the plains of my road, so empty,
In all the world, I’ld sing & dance!
Form:
I catch my own eyes in the bathroom mirror
before I even turn the cold water on.
I watch every quiet, hopeful plan I made
get quietly picked apart and gone.
I wear this skin, I answer to my name,
I’m the author of every doubt I hide.
I pull down my own small victories
and stand my own worst foe, inside.
When 5 a.m. hits with its pale blue light
and promises a second chance to try,
I drag out old mistakes from years ago
just to give myself a reason why.
I tell myself I am not man enough,
that every step forward is a fake,
that the moment things get steep or real
I’ll bend beneath the weight and break.
I sit at my desk in the afternoon slump,
building a maze out of unread mail.
I lock the doors, throw away the keys,
and then wonder why I’m set to fail.
I dissect every single word I said,
turning harmless moments into debt.
I don't need anyone to tear me down,
I haven't even given myself a chance yet.
And yet I'm the one who holds the pen,
the one who keeps writing out the fear.
If I'm the architect of all this noise,
I'm the only one who can clear it from here.