Long Endings Poems
Long Endings Poems. Below are the most popular long Endings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Endings poems by poem length and keyword.
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.
just an average typical morning within this same old town
avoiding all the neighbors that nosily creep these grounds
while all these other folks keep busy bodying gossiping and all
who has whiter teeth, bigger boobs, or the cutest guy at the mall
i stopped at the library to dodge all these illiterate snots
the only place that's quite enough for me to organize my thoughts
i walked in just to be stopped, breathless, dead in my tracks
a book, not made of paper or even hard back
binding was some type of stitched authenticism
bound with a beautiful articulate collage of pattern to it
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I stood there for a second, which felt like a lifetime
must have been reading stars, because it left my mind blind
if only just once I could hold that masteredpiece written classic
I can't lie it was perfect man, I just had to have it
I gasped for a moment, dead in my body
frozen and stunned hoping nobody saw me
it crossed my mind for a split, then, I thought
nah ****
if I get caught I'd be a goner, but I just couldn't wait any longer
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I darted for that case in a flash and I shattered that glass
busted it open, like I was late for literature class
static shocked a little as the book touched my hand
it was in that moment i knew i was the #1 fan
then it wasn't long I realized it was written for me
initials imprinted so there was no questioning
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I fell deep into the title it really 'hit a line'
bold, italics, with a dedication underlined
I wasn't sure why I needed or wanted to own it
but I would have searched forever if I would have known it
searching every library for a perfect story
all the titles and endings just really seem to bore me
this one was special I just wanted to trace over the print
read. every small detail. no need for suspense
“True love stories never have endings.” –
True happiness is a feeling. It is an immersive feeling that everything is good inside. It is not just about riches or wealth; it is a state of mind in which one has a fulfilling and satisfying feeling that his heart is truly at rest.
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half, I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half,I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Ab toh jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekhkar Now I live only by looking at you
Tumhari har ada, tumhari har nazar Every style of yours and every look of yours
Yeh kya kehne lagi tumhe hai kya khabar You don't know what they're saying
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half, I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Ab toh jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekhkar Now I live only by looking at you
Dil mein hai betaabiyan, neend udne lagi My heart is restless and I've lost my sleep
Tere khayalon se hi aankh judne lagi My eyes have started to connect with your thoughts
Har pal tumko dekha maine kehti hai meri nazar My eyes say that I've been staring at you all the time
Tumhari har ada, tumhari har nazar Every style of yours and every look of yours
Yeh kya kehne lagi tumhe hai kya khabar You don't know what they're saying
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half, I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Ab toh jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekhkar Now I live only by looking at you
Saanson mein basne lagi jabse tu o jaaneja Since the time you've settled in my breaths o beloved
Apna sa lagne laga mujhko sara jahaan The entire world seems to be mine
Mehka mehka lagta mujhko khushiyon se dil ka nagar And the colony of my heart seems to be full of joy
Tumhari har ada, tumhari har nazar Every style of yours and every look of yours
Yeh kya kehne lagi tumhe hai kya khabar You don't know what they're saying
Is kadar pyar hai tumse ae humsafar O my better half, I'm in love with you in such a manner that
Ab toh jeete hai hum bas tumhe dekhkar Now I live only by looking at you
Tumhari har ada, tumhari har nazar Every style of yours and every look of yours
Yeh kya kehne lagi tumhe hai kya khabar You don't know what they're saying
“ The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in.” — ...
https://youtu.be/VcbzW874Qag
“Phoenix Dreams in the Realm of Crows”
wake up
shake up
kaleidoscope girl
jigsaw
see saw
fit the pieces
she
another world
away
the in-betweeen
flows easily
through the veil
safe harbour
opening
portals
for ocean steering
curious kaleidoscope
stories to sew
the slip stitch
love knot cast
anchor’s raised
time’s racing
discharge fear
or remain
feathers spreading
in the realm
of crows
poetic
messengers
casting their spells
for opening
tombs turning
dead leaves to tomes
in the crowded hideaway
where shorthand, fixed tight to masts,
swings suspended for transcribing
dark nights,
where soft and fierce
treasure dwells
feathers spreading
cunning cuneiform for ghosts
who speak in tongues
transformative
strange letters
unfurling
spreading
deep indigo and
jesserant jet feathers
swords and keys
for plundering
and opening
impromptu places
mysterious better nests
for hidden golden eggs
broken yoked,
freed
spilling silver spoons,
curl love drunk
into warm skinned
velvet embryos
hugging new bodies
of work, slick palaces
for bedding
better never-endings
never ending,
electric muses
flocked
and kissing
sated singing
dreams
in the realm
of crows
the in-betweeen
flows easily
through the veil
safe harbour
opening
portals
for ocean steering
bejewelled St Elmo
phoenix fire stories lit, to sew
the slip stitch
love knot cast
anchor’s raised
astral charting
glossy winged stars
albatross angels
waxing lyrical
follies and flights
ignited, illuminating
phoenix dreams
in the realm
of crows
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Hideaway”/ Queens of the Stone Age
https://youtu.be/2dcbcic06vw
"Let It Happen" / Tame Impala
https://youtu.be/NMRhx71bGo4
"Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control"/Tame Impala
https://youtu.be/C1VelTQ3hdY
Crow Symbolism
https://www.onthefeeder.com/crow-symbolism/
LYRICS/ “Hideaway”, Queens of the Stone Age
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/queensofthestoneage/hideaway.html
LYRICS/"Let It Happen", Tame Impala
https://genius.com/Tame-impala-let-it-happen-lyrics
“What…happened…to…me? What…ab…ab…”
Despite my new found breath, my speech was weak
and lacking.
“Hush little one.” A soft spoken voice was heard
though she did not move her mouth to say the
words.
“You are safe now. Ashtira is calm. You have
done what you were set to do in your quest.
Hush.”
I closed my eyes and let myself slip slowly
to sleep. It felt wonderful to finally
relax.
When I woke up I felt better than I had in
a lifetime. I slowly sat up and looked around.
Quiet.
When I saw the Ashtira River I smiled. The once violent
vengeful river was now the soothing, gentle brook that it
was once known as.
When I looked down I gasped. My once
evergreen hunting dress was now a light sea-blue.
I knew.
I got up as a person on a mission. I ran and dove
into the water, unafraid of what might happen.
I could breath.
I swam all the way to Lishon. When I came out
of the river I noticed that the Noli were readying
for battle.
I smiled slightly and went back into the river.
I sat serenely at the bottom and closed my
eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The screams came after an hour of waiting. The Kwana
jumped to their feet on my command. I squinted trying
to see.
Like lightning a wall of water crashed into the
gates of Lishon and stopped. It was as if an invisible
shield stopped the water.
Out of the wall stepped a single figure. She was
garbed in sea-blue and her copper hair dry as day.
I knew.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was starting to get dark so I went to get Jorden and Clarisa. They
looked up as I beckoned them to come and they ran over as only
children could.
“It’s starting to get late, let’s head home.” There was none
of the usual arguments from the children. We donned our coats
and left.
What the parent did not know was that beneath the fun of child
play, there lay a Shana and Shano who made the world a better place
for all who cared to live. Once more the frilena would bloom in Lishon’s
court yard as they once had.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The story could be told in many ways,
with different plot lines and different endings.
what matters is not the setting or the plot
but the characters themselves.
In some way every child has their own
fairy-tale land that they are the hero’s of.
This story is particularly dear to me.
For you see, I was Shana and my brother was
Shano.
Villanelle: Whose terse lines lie entangled in the colophon
for the author - male or female, prince or pauper, playboy or priest - of the
THIRUKKURAL*, the reputed "bible" of the Tamils, the principal Dravidian race credited with having engendered the first literary heritage of the Indian sub-continent. Only one thing might be said of him with certitude:
he tamed the language like none other and was more alive to his "times" and his literary, inter-personal, romantic, religio-philosophical and political environment than any prince, philosopher or priest ever since. In my view, whoever he may have been, he was an unjustifiably oppressed individual like King Wen who wrote the judgments on the hexagrams and provided the explanations of their images and the Later Heaven arrangement of the Yi Jing, the Canon of Change.
Whose terse lines lie entangled in the colophon
Words come asunder blown on road side-table
Debris of wanton collisions intone
Long-gone ages singe the stylo his work shone
Who knows what diamond crumbs spill disable
Whose terse lines lie entangled in the colophon
Sans case-endings morphemes participial pun
Regimented feet in seven steps enable
Debris of wanton collisions intone
Who confined meaning in drumbeat phoneme moan
Lest envy upper-caste knowledge expose enable
Whose terse lines lie entangled in the colophon
None know who he was nor what age saw he sun
Savants pat cheeks his lines to render readable
Debris of wanton collisions intone
While lordly conferees seek to feather nests own
His sculpted riddles tease meaning and jumble
Whose terse lines lie entangled in the colophon
Debris of wanton collisions intone
* Thiru=Sacred; KURAL, meaning "short" or epigrammatic composition in the form of couplets (1330: ten kurals allotted to each topic in three books with a short introduction), composed and ordered according to the rules of a strict classical prosodical pattern: the "venba" metre while adhering to complex rhetorical features, such as, alliteration, assonance, initial-rhymes and ellipses. The author was known as Thiru-VALLUVAR. One of the earliest commentaries on the Kural, still extant, was made by a Tamil scholar PARIMELALAKAR during the 13th century.
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
2024.07.29, about a year ago,
Without BB, I visited the 12 Apostles on the Great Ocean Road.
Months before that he promised me,
We would travel wherever I fancied.
Even just days before the trip,
He raised no issue.
Well that was what I reckoned,
Promise was made to be broken.
On the way back to Melbourne,
I wrote a poem which I first posted,
And shared with the world,
Via internet with the help from Mr Author.
The Apostles remain standing in the ocean,
But both BB and Mr Author were no longer present.
They might had different reasons,
But they could have acted like gentlemen.
Just said hello and then goodbye.
Nevertheless, it was better that way,
We all moved on with our own life peacefully.
Today, Saturday, 2025.08.02,
It was exactly 52 weeks ago,
BB paid his last visit to my place,
Without warning, he no long came since this day..
Coincidently, in this evening,
After clearly explained to him
I friendly warned him about the Asian tradional culture,
Being the lunar month of spirit and devil,
Started on Sunday, 2024 August the 4th,
I asked him to be extra careful,
How human soul would be sold,
To the devils in hell and the under world.
I had planned in my head,
Not to let him come for just one month,
To avoid any evil spirit follow us amongst.
He seemed to be able to read my mind,
And respected my inner thought.
He started to act strangely and indifferently.
By alineated with me and kept our distance further forever.
After that day, I hardly visit his second home,
And eventually, our friendship ended.
Twelve months on, I enjoyed my life to the fullness.
I continued to play piano as encouraged by BB,
I travelled on within Victoria on sunny days,
I started enjoying embroidery,
Doing one project after another.
I continued on writing poems more often,
As encouraged by Mr Author,
Who also inspired me to create songs
Putting my poems into Suno.
Every good things eventually come to an end.
I was glad I appreciated the time being with them.
They each, at the same time,
Had given me the bitter sweet, excite, anxious,
Happy and sad memories.
They brought back to me the time of being naive teenager
And the young grown up person respectively
It was all my pleasure to have known you.
Thank you and good bye.
As it all started in a dream
Strangers like we’re all once before
Time stopped on that momentous scene
This funny feeling, asking for more
Weird as it was, but so afraid
Might not work out as usual
Those awkward approaches I made
Treated like everything’s formal
With that weakness, I paid the price
By letting her see someone else
What I got in playing so nice
Regrets, a whole lot of regrets
Throughout the years on struggling life
In the conquest for happiness
Stumbled upon somebody one night
That very dream became my guest
My, my, my, look what we have here?
Just found myself closing the gap
Started to bottled up my fear
Suddenly, I was on her map
Petty questions, mixed hi and hello
Looking for a perfect timing
And then suddenly, it’s a go
I found myself to her courting
She shared a story from the past
Her former which cause her heartache
About how terrible it was
And ended with such a bad state
I comforted her, shared my heart
Presenting the best of intent
Along with advices, part by part
And herself a chance with consent
Ahead of it, an open door
For you when the rest are shut closed
There’s a world so wide to explore
A life and a journey to cross
Exchange of compliments, sweet talk
Phone calls, I miss you’s of long breadth
Anything personal we could’ve poke
Our preference, weakness and strength
By days as it goes on and on
We drifted toward each other
And woke up one day with that bond
Replied back as she consider
Our relationship flourished with joy
The night we eventually met
Proving my point, when girl meets boy
Love in motion, already set
Everything’s unforgettable
The kisses, hugs, intimacy
And the sorts digesting the soul
Which took my breath so easily
Not all endings are happy ones
As our journey turned turbulent
I blew it again, this chance
Separation is imminent
Reasons unknown in the open
Asked her about the decision
Right between us, things didn’t tend
To work out, it’s a frustration
Tried and begged to reconsider
A resolve of her was a mistake
Yet insisted, didn’t matter
Something anyone could not fake
A lot of questions in the mind
"What went wrong?” in myself, wondering.
To quit here, for being left behind
While in the balance, I’m hanging.
Aspirations, goals, dreams. These are things that drive people. They invoke hope in peoples hearts Everyone has desires, wishes. And by holding people on to dreams & ideals of happy endings, are able to fight battles & trials they never thought they could. They take steps forward until they attain the success they worked for other people are offered growth.) and progress in return for tenacity. They gain pices to the puzzle that gives them their purpose, and that paints their dreams into reality.
Me? I fight. I've fought.
I've taken on and faced battles, wars, that I knew I'd need help fighting. But despite my efforts to plead with others, or to express my fears and needs, I always end up facing the army of demons inside me all alone.
Over time I've learned alot. And one of the biggest things I've learned is that I will always face the monsters alone. Despite the promises of support of Safety. I always find myself standing alone When the war is at its worst.
I had to Start fighting when I was as a child. I was terrified of the monsters. But I had dreams & goals to attain. I had the drive escape the war. To learn from my battle Wounds. To prove them wrong. To achieve happiness in so many ways.
I'm 26 now. I am battered, broken, and exhausted. Because I've been fighting the same monsters, the same demons, for nearly 3 decades now. During this war I've been distracted & deceived. I've tried claiming happiness that's been dangled in front of me; thinking it would help motivate me to keep fighting & chasing the dreams Ive held close since I was small. The dreams I've desperately battled for, and that I've lied to myself about.
But each time I think that the possession of happiness is mine, and I start to accept it as TRULY mine, I am stripped raw. I'm skinned of any shred of hope I fought for. Left to fight the war alone, with nothing but my fists. And despite my efforts to defend myself against the monsters, I am inevitably beaten to nothing each time; while trying to mend the wound left from my happiness being severed from my soul.
Me? I'm tired.
I've been fighting the same demons my whole life; and I've done it by myself. But what's crazy to me, is that every time I'm ready to just let them consume what's left of me...
We are living in the middle, you and I,
between butterfly beginnings - ethereal endings.
Despite Natural Law, I'm persuaded to pause;
if possible, dear, let chrysalis continue ...
Timothy Levi Hicks
Living in the Middle
Rules of life restrict us from infancy.
If instincts are true we thrive, each new lesson,
a cynosural guide to success, an urge to forget
those practices made to thwart happiness.
Spare spending habits, avoiding the seven deadly sins,
passages, and reaching for that metaphoric sky
Until, true love, that mystic carriage to what may be;
the chrysalis that cradles heightened mystery.
The inevitable enduring of drudge before we fly.
We are living in the middle, you and I.
There is much we live, reliant upon chance happenings.
What if we had never met? If our paths had never
intersected or, if they did, we failed to connect.
Missed the perfect moment when the sky was right
to usher in romance, the laws of allurement
that shaped 'Plaisir d'amor' in magical renderings.
The ardent awareness of simpler things;
Brilliant colors, ambrosial kisses and heavenly perfumes.
The harmony of mutual understandings
between butterfly beginnings-ethereal endings.
The eager phase of dreams, of promises made,
getting used to things- some expected, some not.
then the arduous art of forgiving.
Our consent to cherish common objectives.
Was it happenstance our love succeeded - or was it
Because we overlooked each other's flaws-
What we expected in the moment?
Two souls astounded to be of the same accord;
that a chance encounter could be the cause.
Despite Natural Law, I'm persuaded to pause;
Too quickly the paragraphs of time we rèad.
Hand in hand we strolled the pages of our years,
standing fast against misfortunes we emerged,
shaped by caring and forbearing hearts.
Refusing to imagine life devoid of one another,
fighting new adversity with every sinew.
Nothing earthly, or in heaven, can measure
this small eternity we have made ourselves.
No matter how circumstance may try to spin you,
if possible, dear, let chrysalis continue ...
Suzanne Delaney
A Glosa