Long Effort Poems
Long Effort Poems. Below are the most popular long Effort by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Effort poems by poem length and keyword.
A final ugly bellow followed by the front door's slam and then. . .
the natural and sweet respite of silence.
She remained where he'd left her
and faced a pair of stony eyes staring back at her from the bathroom mirror.
Stoically she stood, anger-fingers pressed to the inside of the basin's rim.
A gall of indignation clutched at the inside of her throat.
Her whispered curses waxed into a scream, "I hate you. You bastard. I Hate You!"
Moments later. . . sad, kindred eyes met hers,
asking what they always asked, "How do you support this all these years?"
She gazed at the only one who truly knew and felt a rush of utter desolation.
Concentrated rage was channeled to a river of self-pity.
It spilled up and into the bile of her throat, erupting in her helpless gasps,
transforming into hard and bitter sobs,
and with this lament came gushing tears.
Nothing else existed but the woman in the mirror and the grief.
Some moments passed. She sniffled.
Further weeping now would take some effort.
She sighed the sigh of familiar resignation.
Glancing at her consort, red-eyed, in the mirror,
she turned the faucet on and dabbed a tear-streaked face.
The telephone was ringing, so as she went to get the phone,
she steeled herself
in case the flood had not entirely ebbed.
For the Catharsis Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
she described her work as creating creatures
using her efforts to summon the greatest fear
of people
she wanted her audience to believe her
and she wrote with an effort to
envision the deepest and darkest
feeling of fear and loneliness
the author paints the canvas
so that a world might see
the monster as she wishes them to
see it
she once said this person was
so easy to exploit that she could photocopy and paste his image
on whatever she wished him to be
and those who hated a creature would back
her efforts from her doings
gossip would generate enough fear
to have people looking for this image
and finding what he did
mean spirited and wrong
even if he was right and real
she made certain issues subject of debate
and had those who were his support
unraveled by speaking of him as someone
who could influence others to be part of
his doings
she created new words and gave them definition
adding colorful expressions and jabbing
at his position
with his significant to
undermine what he wished to accomplish
they smiled and lied enough
supporting him
and at all times were ambitious enough
to find his replacement
might this monster
stand before the new beast
and war
an entertaining sort shall
find my
enthusiasm strong enough
to make issue with everything he does
i got to know
are you this woman
I gotta know: guess gotta know!
I stand here on the corner,
steam of breath
rising into the frozen air,
staring, eyes fixed,
longing to see...
will lights ever emerge
on the horizon of distant hill?
I’ve turned asphalt into cobblestone,
coated in black ice
from beat down polished snow.
A work perfected
by so much effort.
So now I stand and wonder,
who would travel such a road
to where I am?
Who would risk both life and limb?
When you make your path
of isolation sure,
and no one knows what for,
will not all find easier roads
on smooth paved sunlit days?
So I wait
at this hopeless edge of nowhere
with nothing to do
but struggle against the cold,
starring up this road
from the most far distant reach…
of the road that leads back home.
On a hot summers day
sunlight beating down
black asphalt radiates
the sun’s burning heat
with the stink of diesel fumes
and the screech of air brakes
the tractor painted white
pulling a trailer oh so long
they called and gathered us
to form a line so long
pushed up the rolling door
threw out a 40 pound case
cases heavy and white
smelling of citrus sharp
filled with fruit orange
called out 52’s
started a sing song chant
with every case they threw
we pass them down the chain
each case caught and then thrown on
sweating in hot sun light
young muscles with effort strained
as the chant went on
till called out 44’s
the older men did stop
the endless cases thrown
with smiles they gathered around
us youth gathered behind
the case they opened then
with oranges so large filled
each one they did pass on
till each of us had one
an orange so big had I
never seen before
and soon I was to learn
the very reason why
every orange in the case we ate
each and every one
till the 44’s were gone
and then we continued on
a lesson I did learn
of oranges never seen
and never found in stores
a case of 44’s
Paying forward kindnesses done...
courtesy family, friend or stranger
Appreciative when nonagenarian
papa telepathically hears me yelp
and/or non twisted sisters,
who time and again offered
unsolicited beneficial help.
Indeed unable to reciprocate
that's not quite all he wrote
when kith/kin allotted this ole goat
specie, paper money, and bank note
I experienced collateral
fallout unable to float
mine vessel, nor without
ability to emote,
thus underwent "non Fake,"
agony, I don't sugar coat
albeit analogy to sinking boat
(think Lusitania), thus
this scrivener doth gloat,
whenever he proffers
random act of kindness,
yet never can match,
nor approximate sum total denote
ting cumulative countless
dire straits immediate family
came to rescue one lame
(damn silly word wizard),
whose destiny when graphed
resembles infinitely jesting asymptote
approaching, but never
reaching financial solvency.
Hence yours truly doth attend
impossible mission to contend
despite contrary rumors,
he doth really wish to extend
to assist family member friend
Romans, countrymen, yes to lend,
(or lease) helping hand to mend
ever widening gap,
when charity bestowed
payback doth equal
obligated (boot unable) to spend
small fortune in order to secure
necessary Brownie points
approximating largesse describing
series of fortunate events that didst trend
all throughout mein kampf thee end!
Ha... ha... tricked you dear reader
yea me annoying
as mosquito buzz feeder
of Fake news, who
unfortunately happens tubby,
our crudely inept, mishuga,
and vulgar leader,
he doth trumpet disinformation
fast as rabbit breeder.
Whenever ripe opportunity doth arise
to avail - even toward
someone I might despise,
whether gendered person(s)
gals and/or guise
self satisfaction awakes to realize
to give unconditionally and tries
affecting humanity positively
free effort plus also wise.
“Don't gain the world and lose your soul; wisdom is better than
silver or gold.” ~Quote by Bob Marley
Spiritual music guru of the decades passed and of the times to come
Influence me with your kindness and your one love for everyone
Greiving songs of war and captivity, wish upon us a non-marginalized life
Noteworthy beacon of peace, hope, and unity in a world divided by strife
Intellectual ability to take the complex and making it simple for the masses
Fettered slave’s undone but not forgotten by generations as time passes
Incapable of forgiveness there is stillness of mind, a chance for redemption
Convey meaningful messages of compassion, let it be gratitude no exception
Allies, they don’t want us to live together, together we can make an effort
Never are friends embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurt
Conscience, none but ourselves can free our minds to a greater path
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery for our sake in the aftermath
I've focused on this evening
For near a fortnight now
Each element planned to perfection
Every detail intended to wow
I admit that in the past
My efforts have been wanting
To pack my feelings to a single night
At the very least was daunting
But not this time I was proud to say
I would dazzle her every sense
A night complete with all her favorites
Sparing no expense
With a rose in my teeth, two goblets in hand
and attired in a rented tux
She passed me bye, slumped on the couch
and rambled of how her job sucks
I offered some wine, she said "not tonight
This day has left me too tired
I must review these reports, then get some rest
Or tomorrow I'll surely be fired"
As I watched her wearily climb the stairs
I felt a wave of somber dismay
I extinguished all the candle light
and sent the cellist away.
As I gazed at all my wasted effort
I felt an angry rush
She didn't acknowledge the time I had spent
Just left me alone in the hush
As hours passed I realized
My anger was surely misplaced
I remembered that smile she shows only to me
and all of my pain was erased
I went upstairs to check on my sweet.
and give what support I could
If I could reach inside and relieve her stress
God knows I certainly would
Atop our pedal covered bed
In a state of grace she slept
Clutching the poem I had left on her pillow
still soaked with the tears she had wept
I placed a blanket upon her
and wiped away her tear
then closed my eyes to imagine
How to dazzle my love next year.
Cliché: “Time heals all wounds.”
(Irritation: It implies passivity, ignoring the ache, the effort, the mess of healing.)
Better Version:
Healing is not the passing of time—
it is the choosing to keep walking with the limp.
Poem
They say time heals all wounds,
but time does nothing
without your hands in the dirt.
It just sits there,
ticks forward,
waits for you to move.
Healing is not forgetting.
It’s waking up and feeding the dog,
even when your ribs still echo
where the grief pressed in.
It’s stitching yourself back together
with thread made of old laughter
and apologies you’ll never get.
It’s watering the plants
even though you once killed every green thing
in the house
because the light hurt your eyes.
It’s how you flinch
when someone touches your shoulder
like they used to—
and how you breathe through it anyway.
Some days, healing looks like
coffee left to go cold
because you finally called someone back.
Some days, it’s just
not crying when their name comes up.
You walk differently now.
Yes.
But still—
you walk.
SOMETHING ABOUT YOU
-----------------------------------------------
Substitute the port
With Ole smoke with
5 tablespoons of honey
cinnamon in the ritz
Pie.
That's dessert My Love.
Roast Chicken marinaded
in Italian salad dressing.
I grounded cornflakes
Added parmeseam to the
Seasoned flour, with cayenne
Dipped the thick pork chops
Slow roasted until tender
Made a gravy with sherry
and cream
Broiled brussel sprouts
And boiled cauliflower
Double cooked plantains
I pureed carrots
Topped with honey and ghee
Grapeseed oil.
Yeast rolls
That's for the love of being loved!
I gotcha love
aint outta the way
Some more love
I heard what you said
Make some time
It's worth the effort
More than this
It starts with a kiss
The rest is on you!
They move from house to house
with a mask on each child's face,
knocking on the doors and then
all shouting 'Track or trace?'
The people opening the doors
all have masks on as well,
who's celebrating Halloween, well
nobody can tell.
The sweets are handed out upon
a palm with rubber glove,
can't see a smile that shows whether
they're handed out with love.
Maybe there is some gentleness seen
in the giver's eyes,
the kids rush home to eat them
after they have sanitised.
They may have made the effort to make
Death and horror fun,
with squeals and lamps and pumpkins
as from door to door they run,
but this year as they lie in bed
they know, and they can feel
the horror all around them and
that Death is really real.