Long Draw Poems
Long Draw Poems. Below are the most popular long Draw by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Draw poems by poem length and keyword.
1971 (Hey Dude)
Hey dude, come in, come in.
Been a long time since we last smoked the peace pipe together.
Hey! I think it was during Hendrix’s set in Bethel, dude!
Here, let me move these Rolling Stones out of the way.
and the Taco Bell wrappers… There. Dude, let’s sit.
First, I need to change the record. Let me look here….hmm,
Iron Butterfly? Naw, too psychedelic. Blind Faith?
Naw, they’re too much like Cream. And I’m tired of them.
Hey, how ‘bout Led Zeppelin 3?... Naw, too new;
Ah! Let’s hear some very mellow Traffic music. This is cool dude!
It’s their second album…very trippy music...
Listening to this stuff makes me feel alright!...
Dude, Here you go. That hole there is like a carburetor;
Put your finger on it and draw in. Then, let go. Boom!
Dude! Welcome to the petrified forest, man!
Dude! I been kicking back here thinking about infinity, man.
My mind is constantly being blown thinking about how big the universe is.
Dude, we are so small, so infinitesimal, so minute,
in comparison to the absolute vastness of the universe.
Dude, here we are, riding on this huge ball of dirt,
turning through space at a thousand miles per hour,
and we aren’t even feeling it as we speed along,
like it’s not even happening, man!
You know, dude, we are so small, so very very small,
we’re all just a very small part of this vast solar system
with these humongous planets circling this huge ball of fire,
which are all just a very small part of this humongous Milky Way galaxy,
which is just one of billions and billions of galaxies in the universe…
Man, it makes my mind bend!...
Here, this purple haze from Michoacán will seal the deal, dude…
I also been thinking about God, dude!
We are all so small; we are all like spiders, just spinning our webs…
in this humongous garden called life!
So I must ask Dude:
What is God? Who is God?
I will tell you what God is! I now know! Dude!
Are you ready to hear what God is? …
Ice cream, dude! Ice cream!
Do you want some vanilla ice cream, dude?
I have a gallon in my freezer!
Think of the millions of people in the world right now,
the people of India, South America, Australia and even in Dinuba, California,
who at this very moment, this precise second in time and eternity,
are sitting there, eating vanilla ice cream.
Hey dude! Be right back!
I have lived a true romance,
meeting my love at the art gallery one winter day,
I adore art and writing poetry (the art gives me inspiration)
he liked to draw pictures of art.
My family was considered poor
and he was educated and a traveler of the world,
my life at the time was mindless
with no real future . . .
One evening, he took me to a movie
and that movie is forever meaningful to me,
the next day, my love gave me a blue heart pendant
my own heart of the ocean
and I still wear it as a memory of him . . .
Oh, he believed in making each moment special- "kiss me"
he whispered the first time our lips met, and
I felt like I was flying and he said,
"I will always love you . . ."
We lost a baby along our journey,
holding each other in tears . . .
Then, one winter day he crashed his car through ice
and a thousand daggers pierced my heart . . . and still do.
If he could talk to me
in that dying gasp- he would have said,
"oh my darling I am so sorry . . . "
It was called an accident due to icy conditions,
I am not so sure . . . .
I call his name in dreams,
and I will never, ever let go of this love-
my heart is a deep ocean of pain
I go often to a grave upon a hill, passing the rows and rows
with red roses for
lost love, but I keep one rose, just one rose
for a little baby grave,
my other lost love . . .
and hidden birds sing in the trees .
_________________________
May 8, 2017
Free Verse/About Lost Love
Copyright Protected, ID 898880
Submitted to the contest, Lost Love
Sponsor, John Hamilton
Fourth Place
FROM SUNSET TO SUNRISE
Her clinging mermaid-figure, auburn hair - french braid-chaste.
Pearl’s arms circumnavigate his nautical-neck. Strong arms gird her waist.
His hands, like the current, draw her in. She inhales with fingers laced.
Like the sublime shoreline, their outlines traced.
Water and sand swirl around their feet, hearkening to the flautist-tide.
Pearl’s arms circumnavigate his nautical-neck. Strong arms gird her waist.
The sky, stars, and moon vanish - in a lover’s cove, they hide.
Recognized with a full-moon revelation - no disguise,
She is likely to drown in the whirlpool of his eyes.
With the whispers of his high-tide love, she does rise,
Answering in kind - breathing in and out her replies,
As their lifetime stretches from sunset to sunrise.
The aquamarine of Pearl’s eyes match her swimming gown.
She is likely to drown in the whirlpool of his eyes,
Snatched by the undercurrent, of her lover’s seaweed crown.
The shrieking seagull o’erhead, her memory recalls.
The darkened lighthouse, stronghold sinking, falls.
Feet weeping on serrated shells, his footprints lost in sandy halls.
His sea-drenched bodysuit, her frightened squalls.
Inlet eyes, stained red, revere venomous jellyfish - tentacled balls.
A shallow survivor - her lover’s footprints she could not save.
The darkened lighthouse, stronghold sinking, falls.
She dives into the cold abyss of a mourner’s grave.
Pearl will find her eternal love, beyond the sun’s rays.
11/2/2017
Laura Loo’s Rhyme Time II Contest
Music is always loved,
every piece that is heard, felt.
And yet I can play none,
not a chord, not a note.
Art is always stunning,
every piece that is studied, beheld.
And yet I can produce none,
not a drawing, not a painting.
A nosegay is always fragrant,
every one that is inhaled, scented.
And yet I draw in no aroma,
not a whiff, not a redolence.
Food is often tasty,
pieces that are chewed, digested.
And yet I feel like none,
not a repast, not even a snack.
The loved are always cherished,
every one that is clung to, kissed.
And yet I have none,
not a darling, not one even held.
Our own selves are always explained,
every fragment that is we.
Yes I have those, even grains, slivers, particles,
but, as you see, not a part of me evokes reason.
(Jul 2022)
Oh, mighty vacuum cleaner, duty calls;
like magic, you suck up unsettling grime
in my small world of carpets, floors, and walls.
You gobble up debris in record time
of lint and dust polluting my domain,
to leave behind a sparkling atmosphere
where peace of wholesome living can remain,
ensuring my abode is bright and clear.
Oh, hardy vacuum cleaner, if I could
direct your force upon our total Earth;
suck up its cobwebbed corners, dusty wood
which clouds our vision to perceive its worth.
Draw off the film- watch clarity unfurled,
and make it shiny-bright as my small world.
Sandra M. Haight
~NA~
Premiere Contest: A Lovely Little Daydream
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Judged: 01/21/2017
Where is it writ what I must be?
Show me the page of destiny
That shows me in the throes of catastrophe,
That avouch the failure you mark me.
I will be whatever I want to be
Feigned predestiny is absurdity.
I can plainly see where it would lead me,
But it relies on my willing authority
And that will is mine;
Not a tool for you to use to undermine
Me and my semblance of being are just fine
No grey or doubt; it is where I draw the line
And today I feel like winning,
Just like yesterday
The rain has stopped; the clouds are thinning
The sun is out, and I'm on my way
Now, let us pray—
Is something I would never say,
As if there is some higher price to pay
That allows fortune to give sway
No, no. It's quite the opposite,
And believe me, I'm on top of it
Free will, believing in myself, prerequisite;
When you next see me, it will be because, not let.
And so,
Thus forego
The waning years
Of regret—
Because we didn't believe
And didn't just go for it
Yes, it all sounds quite nice:
Hard work, determination, and sacrifice
But when we stumble and failure would suffice,
Acknowledging that something greater,
Powerful and mysterious, righted you would be nice;
There's more going on than what's before our eyes.
Take pride; be of free will and compromise
Humility takes time to realize,
And that letting go helps us stabilize
Then we might try and theorize
Where the balance of truth lies
Versus life...?
Don't waste your time—
Just go back and read
The first nine lines
From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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Camp E-How-Kee.
?
Autoplay
Camp E-How-Kee
as a child
had it's dark side as well.
Paul Butler is doing life
for robbery
i know.
He was black and seemed
like a nice kid back then,
he was the token
in our small group of whites
with him it numbered ten.
Fat Jack..Jack Thomas
died
in Florida state prison.
George Walker abused by
his father,
Sexually, psychologically and
physically life a living hell.
kicked in the face by Chief Snell.
He may have weighted
seventy pounds soaking wet
five foot one perhaps.
While Chief Snell,
wearing size thirteen and standing
six foot eleven in bare socks.
Kicked him in his face one early morn.
George in and out prison as well
perhaps by now, 'maybe dead.
He had courage.
Robert Sykes, whom wet the bed
every night.
Lord only knows,
the demons and monsters,
inside of his head.
The abuse that he suffered at home
was his fault we all now know
but a child as well.
is he alive..Amen.
The boy with the epileptic seizures
so bad
I remember his name..
as Dwayne Robinson..he shook and he
screamed all night..
putting the pillow over his head.
While the counselor poured buckets
of cold water on him.
Screaming be quite.
where was 'God'..then..
Must I go on..yes I will.
All of us between eleven and twelve.
Maybe one was thirteen..
mighty frontiersman were we.
Angels, were we heavens know, 'no.
being allowed to use axes
and draw knives
we kept pocket knives to do our work.
And Wally Otting was like Frank...
Michael Berro...
none thinking back then were like I..
When it got to bad
I would take most away in the middle
of the night to escape..
what we thought we escaped when it was
we left our homes.
Most would not listen and then get caught
I always made it back home fifty miles
of eating berries or nothing at all..
just to be sent back again.
Delila after dark..this was then...
you were a tender Ronnie and
I was a boy of twelve..with no
moss or beard..
and my parts even then were coveted
by others as well..
This is my confession for them..
Donna Black...H.C.S.D.
Doing this to us was what..........and
where is Gary Anderson?
What could a child, 'i have done back then
but i tried, as
One group of five made up of tens.
A LOVE PHRASIS
-part 1
Draw me,run after me
look upon me,tell me
who your soul loves.Kiss
me betwixt my breasts,stay
with me,comfort me.
The voice of my beloved
said to me arise my fair one
and come away,the winter’s
past,the rain has gone,the
flowers appear,shadows flee away.
part 2
Behold thou art fair my love,
thy lips,like a thread of scarlet,
comely of speech,there is no spot
in thee,thou hast ravished my heart,
how fair is thy love.
I sleep,but my heart wakes,my
head is filled with dew,my locks,
with drops of night.I rose up to
my beloved.A mouth is most sweet
yes , altogether lovely.
Thou art beautiful O my love,comely,
turn thine eyes away for they hast
overcome me.
She is the choice!
How fair and how pleasant art thou
O love,for delights.
part 3
Set me as a seal upon thine
heart,for love is as strong as death,
many waters cannot quench,neither
can floods drown it.
A Phrasis inspired by the poetic style of Song
of Songs.
HER MOM’S AN ANGRY CLEANER
I’ve gone stark raving mad. That’s what we ladies do. Cleaning rag in hand, vacuuming the crumbs, tossing dishes like flying saucers. She says, I’m an angry cleaner. Perhaps she’s right. Do not be within the proximity, the border, the one I draw around myself. Do not come into the room saying, “What’cha doin’?” Because chap, it’s quite obvious and the winds of war are going to blow. Do you see that gray cloud...hear the booming thunder? The anvil’s about to fall. You, sir, are on the chopping block. Do you see my feet kick back, Pig-Pen’s dust and dirt swirling around my head. Do you know a Brownie must never be caught? If you knew these things, why’d you step out of line? Go back inside your “doggie container” Later, I’ll clean that out too...when you fly to third world countries. For now you see a witch upon her broom, cackling out “shoo!”
10/18/2018
Pig-Pen - character from Peanuts comic
In the attraction of Nature's-draw,
will my heart survive such beauty
attracting with its maw- sitting beneath
impending- melting offering -cascade of Winters drift encore of grift,
scenic spring undressing the thaws,
trap of heart's thoughts warmly clad,
hanging cliffs, gardens of Babylon-
bathed on the lips to wear like an entance,
of entanced shades in scarlet riding beast of glade.
There is no choice but to plunge from the cliffs
and be submerged in the surround cloud lay.
The sting of cold anenome of taboo anamoly of anamorphic fish eye lens o drone , 'saulted wound of surrounding detergent urge of soliloquy-posed like a babbling brook sent into motion by the
everclear projected beast mode of the know,
seeps in to santize the drowning pool you have inked beyond the greatest show on err,
pearls of evaluation of sanity- so audaciously an enchantress come for the bones on our shores
for an innocent suare',
wears the beads like a rosary,
pray for me.
She will have evidence to use against me
on Judgment Day, beyond
and keep part of me sentenced upon this plane,
stowaways, mistress and vagabond.