Long Emotions Poems

Long Emotions Poems. Below are the most popular long Emotions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Emotions poems by poem length and keyword.


Your Nothing To Me

You're nothing
You're a disgrace
You've been dishonored
You've been unmasked
For the villain
That you are.


You know not
What true love is
You know not
The meaning of family.


All you know is yourself
Self-centered and egotistic
Who deserves the spotlight
Shine upon him
Thinking the world 
Revolves just for you.


I hate to burst your bubble
Of your twisted perfect reality
But the world revolves around nobody
Not even for a scumbag like you.


The spotlight shines upon all
It doesn't play favorites
Your not the star of the show
Your just a stage hand playing pretrend.


You talk amongst your blood
But don't praise your offspring
You dont' spare time 
To fix what is broken
You let it all go to ruin.


Your heinous crimes
Can never be forgiven
The lies you spout
Tried to warp my mind
But no more lies 
I'm through with you.


You put yourself before others
You think highly of yourself
You care not for emotions
Not know what they are
Your like a robot 
Without an empathy chip.


You've hurt many people 
Your road is crumbling
Burning bridges behind you
Poisoning the family tree
With your sickening presence.


No more, I say!
I take the axe of change
Chopping the rot 
Right off the tree
Drench it with fresh rain
To bring it back to life.


You're a waste of space
You're a disgrace to the family
You're a disappointment
You're a lazy bum
You have no respect
You have no morals.


I shout from the depths of my soul
I shout for the world to know 
The courageous roar of a dragon
Planting her feet deep in the dirt
To announce her right to say
"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME!"


Be gone, foul demon!
Return to hell from which you came
Away you go from my sight
I wish to never see your face again!


You're a burden
You're a parasite
You're a moocher
You're a sloth
You're a liar!


Ye who dare to bring our family shame
Try to bring ruin to our name
I cast you out of my life!
Your no longer my father
The father I knew
Died a long time ago!


Replaced by a lout
Replaced by a bum
Replaced by an imposter
Replaced by a Jackass!


You mean nothing to me!
You're an embarassment
You're not my father
I've lost all respect for you!


Away with you now
Get the hell out of here
I don't wish to see you
I don't want you in my life
You mean nothing to me
YOU ARE NOTHING!
© Megan Ryan  Create an image from this poem.


Silent Mission


  

Glass shattered Saturday afternoon tea for  S I L E N C E

holding steady raven momentum for its own  r i p p i n g
fire from heartbeat slashes its void to tumble wounds of 
wisdom weeping slow dirty tears of biting burns inserting 
into wordless flesh of waiting before window panes were 
smashed with stone docile ornaments, rampant afternoon 
unvoiced holding a blank white canvas for dripping 

bookshelves tumbled, poems torn to sheds, laundry strewn 
with glass splinters as lead, aphonics slithering into dried out 
stewpot waiting for maniacal tsunami to cremate emotions 
tweezer them from dna soiled in possessive prisons ridiculed  
Divinity spoke in all pervasive silence on testing timeline taut 
holding breath to His nostrils imbibing a billion frequencies
I chose to brave open His serene lips for unutterable  L O V E

lashes He crafted brushed breathy implicits with assent 
for missions of courage traversed embracing solitude 
observed in stillness whilst across eerie forest moss 
carpets I deciphered “They Don’t Care about Us” 
hush self wears a daisy cloak from heavenly dew fields 
luminosity unzips not as lies hop chaotic across 
spiderwebs it can chameleon transmute into gentle 
streams to soothe that which hides for right timing 
~ first bud of white rose birthing delicacy or benign 
waters over pebble backdrop quietude   

biscuit baker feeds jealousy, deceit, shame, guilt, indecision
escapism ~ swampy keys of stagnant quagmires will too utter 
her heart’s eclipsed light breaking egoic invisibility as 
softly I breathe her shadowed taciturn  s t e a l t h 

quiet petaling garment breaks open blackout mission
regurgitating quantum memories incubated in beckoning cell 
fertility for decades perhaps centuries, marching crusades of
soul conquering ancient lands, majestic mountains, raucous 
seas, ports, yellow spices, when women with babes gagged 
anguished longing for men to taste their honey in serenity
hot crusted bread speaking truths of labouring backs bent
cows chewing cherrywood cuds ~ what could be a more 
knowing   t r a n q u i l i t y  ?

now wafered soundlessness is lamb yet diamond piercing 
raw, a lark offers sotto tones as harmony cupped in two 
musing wings to ascend where it can quintessentially 
quiver, hover in expectant repose for another silent mission

Jet Lag

I see him stumbling around looking for something to hold on to but there was nothing there except the open thin air and a bunch of bureaucrats wearing thin frocks walking around on wet grass with fake greetings and a forced smile that caught us by surprise. 

Bob has been in the news and this has left everyone confused he is running for office again, midths the barrage of criticism running down his spine weakening his legs and making him look like the walking dead. At first, he looks like a robot coming out of a hut, and then it appears like a man in despair. There was no one around to cover him except for gravity and his own sanity. 

Bob is fun to be around but this time his attitude makes me frown, he does some weird things, like walking with his nose pointed in the air and use his finger to show you the clock.  

Sometimes he is agitated and his temper cuts deep causing everyone to proceed with caution while he rolls the dice and shuffles the cards. He is a nice person to be around but the mood swings will drag you down; yesterday I invited him for tea, we had a small talk and it left my aunt weeping in the dark, what is really going on with Bob?  

Bob is a very good man but sometimes he looks very sad; he has a very tight schedule and attends more than ten meeting in a given day, heaven knows how he stands up while going through the gate.

 He knows his work quite well and he can talk up a storm from hell and still remain true. I watched him come and go and how he presents himself while he rides the big ship, and the ceremony he attended with the mercenaries hiding in the bushes and the guard of honor marching every hour to pay their respect to Bob.  

He wasn’t quite in it, he was always looking for something to hold on to but the air propels him along and John, his closest friend, stood next to him and pushes him on. 

I could sense a silent annoyance rising up in john’s emotions, as he reached for support while climbing the steps. He attempts to hold john several times from his back but John shrugs and show him the way with a polite gesture. 

They and had a cup of tea towards the end, and spend some time feeling out each other. What was said, I really don’t know but the cluster bombs exploded and close that chapter. The tennis match was a blessing in disguise, and it is an indication of how the story will end, I love happy endings.

The Milestone

The bay and titian milestone 
calls the universe 
On everything we have to remember 
2019 we met in joy
Raw in our hearts 
We gathered in love
Humble without pride 
We spoke in a voice 
They called us golden ones 
Oh yes! Golden ones. 

After the last quarter 
A strange duster appeared 
And erased Gift out of the list 
Many emotions were bitter 
Just like me 
That pended the elite Supper

Chronically, we arrived 2020
Which showed advances on arrival 
The stretching chain started breaking 
Everyone chose the birds they flocked with 
Classic pride developed its wig 
From the humble hearts 
Everyone real colour start revealing 
Like the rising sun in the morn. 

Just a sudden 
The world was attacked by Emperor'19
Everywhere was shut,
Everyone's lovers were distanced 
Nations dropped like flies
Love, value and unity quenched 
New fishes entered the friendship oceans of our comrades
In the pandemic period we experienced.

In 2021 we met again as earlier as expected 
As there were different faces, such were different shoulders. 
Everyone  focused on its target 
The class attendance dropped like a weighless scale. 
Many break, many strike 
Affect the 2021 journey.

Just like a flowing stream
The heaven sea journey to the left side
Gave the picture of the sun 
Traveling from the North to West.
Days in, days out
There was not a single day without a memory
As we all gathered for the new 2022.

2022 was the year of planting fame
Many people worked to be recognized 
The birds changed their groups 
Everyone humbled again
Trying to move up a bit 
As the result of the shock 
From the previous exams.

'Just like yesterday 
'I was a fresher 
'Today I am an FYB'
That was everyone's comment 
When we met ourselves 
In the final level of the journey 
In the 2022 summer months.

Despite the four years journey's metamorphosed 
Into five years journey with hard stress 
Joy crowned our hearts because everything is closer 
We accepted to involve in the final stress 
That has a short time
But so dismal, Lilly fell from the train 
Almost at the bus stop.

Now on our table 
We cheers to the love that we have got
Toast to the one that we lost on the way
The toast goes to every able that can read this;
And remember the memories we've been through
Which the bay and titian milestone 
Has called us to remember.

Free Range Fear

There is too much fear in the world these days,
Fear of the unknown, scared in soo many ways!
Phobias of spiders, mice, rats and bats,
Are you frightend of nothing?  Why are you scared of that?

Scared of oppression?  And the way they use aggression?
Are they messing with your head, using psychic suggestion?
Wrestling with your doubts will only lead to fear,
Always looking into shadows.. scared that something's always near.

You're winding yourself up!  There's no reason to be scared,
But it's never as it seems.. so you'd better be prepared.
Because if you're feeling fear, it could be.. you're not ready,
With your trembling legs, and butterflies in your belly.

It's not so strange, that lots of people fear pain,
Being boiled alive, with needles stuck into your brain,
You've got to be careful, I'm afraid to say,
Be quick to make your mind up, to fight or run away.

Would you fill your pants, with a gun to your head?
Now, that's REAL fear.. you could be dead, enougth said!
Some could find your nerves and make you scream for weeks,
They can teach you about pain and how it reaches new peaks.

But the ones like that..  are fearful too,
Of justice, revenge, and the human rights crew.
They should be scared!  I wanna see their faces white,
'Cause they even kidnap kids and slip away into the night!

Now I'll get swept away, as it floods from me,
See, some of these emotions, are as deep as the sea,
Some wanna get a gun, and hunt these sick suckers,
And get them on their knees and say PRAY MOTHERF%%%%%!

See this is the crux..  this is the bottom line,
If they catch you doing that, then it's you that's doing time,
It's never black & white, it's not easy to see..
There are so many fears, it's all part of being free.

Are you scared of the dark, because that's how it began?
Are you scared that it links you to the earliest man?
Who had to hunt to eat, had to kill to stay alive,
And did what they had to, so this race could all survive.

The things to be scared of are the things inside,
You can struggle and fight, but you can never run or hide,
So walk down the street with your head held high,
And face down fear.. because we're ALL gonna die!

But the opposite of fear though..  is to be brave,
Who knows how many lives you could save.
The futures unknown, and we all face change,
It is all just a part of being free-range.
Form: Rhyme


Vantablack

The poem "VANTABLACK" exhibits a profound exploration of emotions and existential themes. As a poet, one would appreciate the nuanced use of language and the depth of introspection conveyed through the verses.

The title, "VANTABLACK," immediately draws attention to the darkest substance known, emphasizing a profound sense of darkness or void that permeates the poem. The tumultuous street and the notion in flight evoke a sense of chaos and uncertainty, setting the stage for the emotional journey that follows.

The poet skillfully employs imagery and metaphor to convey the complex emotions experienced. The notion that "hastens in haste" and then "averts its gaze" suggests a fleeting and elusive quality, mirroring the transient nature of emotions. The descent of the heart's echo into a "crimson abyss" hints at the depth of emotional turmoil, perhaps symbolizing pain or longing.

The lines "Your name, I called, yet emptiness replied" and "A bloom of yours, I drew, withering away" express a sense of loss and unfulfilled connection. The act of calling a name and drawing a bloom implies a desire for presence and beauty, but the responses are characterized by emptiness and withering, adding a layer of melancholy.

The exploration of choices in the lines "Life's lines extend before me, To choose, where your love resides" delves into the existential theme of navigating through life's possibilities and seeking love. The word "resides" suggests a search for a meaningful connection within the vastness of life.

The recurring ritual mentioned in "This ritual unfolds each day" implies a cyclical nature of introspection and perhaps a daily struggle with emotions. The poet peers within, describing it as a "melancholy abode," suggesting that the internal landscape is characterized by sadness.

The concluding lines, "Where my heart, a vantablack canvas, remains," encapsulate the essence of the poem. The heart being a "vantablack canvas" signifies an emotional void, absorbing and reflecting no light, emphasizing the depth of emotional darkness or emptiness.

As a poet, one might commend the poet for the rich tapestry of emotions woven through carefully chosen words and metaphors. The poem invites readers to contemplate the complexities of human emotions, the ephemeral nature of connections, and the existential quest for meaning in the face of emotional voids.

Hypnotized

Is slavery dead? Honestly it isn’t
Those of us who conform are stuck within a prison
We follow celebrities and we wear their clothes
As if they are Gods and we are mere mortals

As if they are shepherds and we are merely sheep
As if they are they are the strong and we are the weak
We quote their words and become their clones
And if we break their trend, we are left alone

And as they pass, we shower them with gifts
Money, so they can go and get their face lifts
Fame, so they can go out and conquer more slaves
Power, so they can destroy those who call them fake

They’ve brainwashed us so much we’ve gone completely numb
We openly cheer when the hero pulls out his gun
We don’t understand that we’re all completely mindless
We’re overjoyed only if the screen shows senseless violence

Nearby a police officer fights for his life
As a drug dealer tries to stab him with a butterfly knife
We’d call for help, but we’re busy with our own stuff
Discussing how the movie was good, but the killing wasn’t realistic enough

Our emotions are gone, we are all just droids
We don’t cry when we hear about a little boy
Who was killed in a shooting by a merciless gang
Because his father was part of the Ku Klux Klan

Instead we just shrug and respond “That’s the world today.”
“His father was an idiot,” is all that most people can say
“Things happen for a reason. That’s the Lord’s way.”
But that night, for that boy, everyone forgets to pray

We watch a few minutes of the news, not because we want to know
Coming up next is the new hit reality show
We’d rather watch girls dancing and grinding on each other
Instead of observing a woman work two jobs and be a good mother

And if disaster strikes, we observe the destruction and pain
The details of the damaged are extensively explained
But money only comes to charities with writing on the bag
The money must be packaged with a rich man’s name tag

So when the people see, they will remember what his mask looks like
He only cares if he’s quoted saying, “They will be all right.”
And with that, his money, fame, and power grows
And in the next election, it could even win him more votes

Learn to break the chains, learn to set yourself free
Your eyes are open, but you must learn to see
Don’t drink their potion. Don’t let them inside
Don’t stare at the pendulum too long or you’ll be hypnotized

I Took the Dare and Survived It

Anxiety about what I might think preceded me
As I sat on the stool in the middle of my living room
Ready to think about who knows what,
I relaxed for a moment and then closed my eyes.

Gratitude and peacefulness were my first feelings.
I smiled inside thinking about how literal Ingrid had taken me.
He remembered that I intended to write at 3:00 a.m.
As the clock ticked, Ingrid kept time for me…

Fear crossed my mind next, afraid of my own thoughts,
What they might be.  Nightmares.  Horrors. 
Repressed experiences dreaded.
But thankfully, the ringing in my head saved me.
At least for that moment…

A few things slipped in.  The Jeffery McDonald murders
That took place when I was stationed at Ft. Bragg, N.C.
The horror had anguished me on an off over the years.
Then, I heard the crickets again.  Thankfully.

Next, a hit and run accident that was reported in the news years ago
Flashed through my mind…anxiety from Army days.
It had happened on a road we sometimes traveled.
Fear, reality check, and cricket sounds followed.

Yes, it is that cricket sound that I enjoy so much.
It took me to the natural world in all its beauty.
Little seeds germinating in my sunroom...  
Crickets outside making their noise; I smiled again.

And the crickets in my head chirped.
I was thinking that this isn’t so bad after all.
I have learned to find happiness inside myself
Then, Ingrid said, “Time’s up.”

I felt relieved.

© March 1, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

My DARE: Dane, you picked Dare* I dare you to sit in the middle of your living room... 
(on a chair if you have toooo!) Close your eyes, and feel for 5 minutes... (you will need a 
stop watch that alert you when the 5 minutes are up. During them 5 minutes, you have 
to feel everything, allow your strong emotions to feel. Even if you have little one's are 
running or your cat is purring at your feet. Don't allow it to bother you. You have to 
concentrate and find that one spot in the back of your mind. The part that digs real 
deep into every feeling we forget is there. After the 5 minutes are up... Sit in the spot 
where you write, and write for 10 minutes, Write about every thought that passed 
through your mind in a poetic way, sad~happy~ mad, crazy.. and so on... Take us deep 
into your mind... Thank you..pd

Confession…I wrote more than 10 minutes…time slipped up on me.

The Stench of a Broken Heart

When I looked in to her eyes,
In it I saw a prospect of a paradise.
A paradise whose entry was not 
contingent on my righteousness.
My days of startling agony, still battled my
hope of finding true love.
Like the Battle of Armageddon,
I always came out a looser.
But meeting her... yea the Vault of Heaven,
was like proximal to the Book of Leaves.
Her countenance and demeanor, 
whispered melodic symphonies.
And her meekness and charm,
transited me into a world of ecstasy.
Covered In fine linen and sapphire,
she glowed than a continuous spectrum.
Her beauty was an Achilles hill,
that all men that saw her failed to vanquish.
Just like my maiden father Adam,
In her I saw the hidden part of me.
As a woman, as one I will be spending my life with.
I have never felt this conflagration before,
It was apparent she was my dream woman.
What can be compared to the taste of crimson honey,
The more it reddened the more it sweetened.
I have never loved like this before.
For her I was willing to exchange my soul,
To be with her till eternity.

But cunningly she unmasks her real face.
Beneath her could not be compared to an iota of grace.
She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Who entered my life to distort and annihilate,
My hope of bliss.
All these while we paddled and flew high,
In the crescendo of our emotions.
It never crossed my mind that it was all a hoax.
A calculated sham just to make away with all I ever had.
Now am left with nothing,
Since her angelic face and docile pace,
Which I thought was the elixir my unending conundrum,
Was rather an emotional and psychological torture,
That has rendered my life defunct.
When I imagine her driving around town,
Adorned in my hard earned luxury,
There is only one moment I wish ,
I could re-write.
And that was the day I met her.
I always tell myself that sometimes,
It is better some people don’t come into your life.
But here I am know,
Wishing to right my wrongs and alter the past.
But it is so sad that I cannot have my way.
I know in the annals of time,
When my saga is being told,
I will be know as the moron,
Who killed himself because of a girl.
Though it may sound and look stupid,
I deem it a befitting penance,
For my obsessed illusion of love,
Thus love is an illusion that,
Emotionally disrupt sober discretion. 
What can be compared to the stench of a broken heart.
© Jacob Osae  Create an image from this poem.

Romantic Serenade

It was the Halloween Ball
In the season of the fall
A mysterious bachelor called
To the attention of us all

The biggest mansion party
The cooks food is hearty
The host is definitely tardy
For most of his own party

The musicians play the last dance
The men try to romance
But don't stand a chance
For the host is here! They glance

To a man dressed in black wear
In Old Spanish attire bare
The women began to stare
For he was a young stallion, a Mare

From a top the stairs he walks
The ladies gather to stalk
The man who doesn't talk
Like birds they came in flocks

He wore black clothes and a red sash
White trim and a black mask
To find a dancer is his task
But who will he ask?

The only girl not drawn to attention
Is sitting alone no words to mention
He takes her hand There is no tention
Soft as a doves wings a cool sensation

The proceed to the middle of the floor
She doesn't know what's in store
A lot of musicians come in..there is more!
Some of them rich, some are poor

He takes his tunic off then starts
The music is written from the heart
The stand at attention far apart
Then the solo with the silver harp

The drum beat starts going 
They come together emotions flowing
His risque' dance he is showing
To her mind he is boasting

They move and dance like magic
For five minutes the song's romantic
The crowd watching in motionless static
The songs end was very tragic

The last beats were hard to miss
They drew close and started to kiss
For her it was a mystical bliss
His every movement caressed her lips

The awkward silence he starts to leave
The young lady can hardly breathe
She starts to faint...she can't see
The wings appeare and she falls asleep

The girl awakes in her bed it seems
In her school clothes it was only a dream
The sound of water foils the scene
Her eyes still blurry it's hard to see

She wanted this for real
Her heart is sealed
Then fate will have to deal
Her new loves appeal

She notices something on the ground
It's the wings and mask she found
And a CD blank is bound
She puts it in and the sound...

Is the unforgettable song
It was to her so long
But there was something wrong
Where did this come from?

In the CD case is an Old Engligh letter
It said "Undoubtedly for the better
I am gone with the weather
Your kiss I will always remember forever and ever
Form:

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