Long Eventually Poems
Long Eventually Poems. Below are the most popular long Eventually by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Eventually poems by poem length and keyword.
“Ladies and gentlemen, gather round
Squeeze in madam, come a little closer”
You fortunate folk are at the launch of this must have commodity
My company has traveled around the globe,
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See this little can in my hand
It holds something so precious you cannot live without it
I present to you …
Canned fresh air
Now would anyone like to test this product - Let me open this can.
“Madam, would you like to try it -
just use the detachable face mask and breathe deeply
there, doesn’t that smell soooooooooo good”
.
In the event of nuclear war this product is essential for your survival -
You simply cannot afford to be without it!
Now who is going to be the first to get this must have product ?
I have it on offer today at an introductory price.
Each set of cans comes with a face mask, which normally retails at $3
It’s perfect for use by the entire family and a sniff at only $19.99”
Advertisement, sell something, make us want it
Sponsored by Lewis Raynes
3/18/18
Alli a girl
I used to know
From my not to distant past
Came to me in a dream last night
Once I fell soundly I thought asleep
And that dream was this
She seemingly appeared out of
nowhere and at first kissed me upon
my cheek honey sweet
And I began to both simultaneously
go weak at the knee and then weep
Whence we at first did meet as she
did at first me greet
Raining on an unfamiliar to me street
masquerading as a movie set
After which we fell into each other's arms
and so began to hug with an ever tightening
grip as if to show our unrequited love
Then the pair of us proceeded to
dance the night away like butterflies in
flight under mercury illuminated lunar
moon
And that was it in the end when time
was calling and the dream was up
And I eventually realized that morning
was dawning and I was wide awake
once again
And the painful realization that the
dream was indeed finally over
And all i was left with was a feeling
like I had been stung by a hive of
worker bees in protection of it's queen
And a horrible sense of loss of once
more losing her all over again
And far more worse than that I also
this now know as well
That when I eventually go to bed tonight
though I may will and try as best I can
She will no more reappear in my dreams
Than she will be here and appear in life either
I've been beaten down,
Back stabbed
Name drug through the mud
But all I wanted?
True love
I have wandered and searched
For my own little space
Never finding my own happy place
I filled my days wasting time
On all of these guys
That would later account
For the tears in my eyes
I tried filling the void
Where he burned a hole
In my life
In my heart
In my mind
In my soul
But nothing could mend it
No matter what I tried
All the drinks
Or the tears I have cried
I knew I was cracked
Like a porcelain bowl
No matter who tried
They couldn't make me whole
I felt useless
Alone
No love
For my own
I kept my walls up
It didn't matter
You can't break them down
No matter how tattered
I was quick.
I replaced every person that left
Never letting silence sink in
With space for regret
Eventually I felt
All the pages had been turned
I was gone again,
My heart still burned
Just when I thought
It's time to give up
You came out of no where
You redefined love
So with this I thank you
For just being here
For helping me love
What I see in the mirror
You mended that porcelain crack
You filled it with gold
And gave me love back
And it's more beautiful than ever
Shiny new and improved
Like our love is - forever.
I sing of the afternoon of life,
Of beaches shifting in such tiny ways;
Throes of death is what they are,
Under the light of a softly dying star,
When eyes full of wonder and hope
Stare into a sky
Made beautiful by the ugliness of transition
And the contingent world of vision and smell
Where only the blind and dumb can tell
That life doesn't really give a about
what you’ve done with yourself all these years.
Let the rain and wind pick up a bit
And clutch the world in a wet embrace.
I don’t really care, you see.
Let the drops mingle on my face,
A beacon for what hides inside.
I wear my disguise to bed each night
And when I wake I certainly stand
So that it's not noticeable.
My window provides a stark picture of a dim horizon
In the agony of acceptance
That every day is a painful step closer,
And those that don’t feel agony are numb.
Or maybe just dumb.
From the wisdom of poets long dead
And the simple thoughts of those
Who don’t mean anything to you
Come the answers we seek:
Words that illustrate our ideas
And the satisfaction of knowing that
Other people can feel the texture
Of the thoughts you hold
Inside.
Surely wisdom has no higher price
Than the realization that
Everything you think and feel
Has already been discussed.
Beauty and understanding once meant something,
But now they vie for attention with
Baser things, trivial things
Only meaningful in their relativity,
Along with knowledge, (what a funny word)
Which once meant knowing what was right
And what was not and knowing the difference.
Now it seems clear that true knowledge
Is only the acceptance that
We know nothing more than that which
We cannot change.
As flowers grow, bloom, and die, so must our
understanding ever be compromised and evaluated.
From the ramparts fall
The sonnets of those most have forgotten,
And maybe you’ll blink, mouth moving
Like a fish in the sand,
Gasping as you realize the futility
Of accepting anything
But what you wanted so desperately to believe,
But like any myth, eventually
you will uncover the trickery
And try to accept it without anger or grief,
Because once the movie’s over,
You’re just in a big room of people
Staring at a blank screen.
I ended up in the car park out side the pink parrot, in the cold
A place it was so dark, robbed of my ring ,only nine carrot gold
My life flashed before my eyes, eyelid split with a Stanley blade
Face smashed by two guys, memories of that night never fade
Later I was told their was eight, not knowing if I would live or die
Completely unaware of my fate with blood gushing from my eye
Face like a blister, I couldn’t speak being in a state of absence
All I could hear the voice of my sister, saying get an ambulance
Glass is sticking out of his head got to get him to some hospital
He’s going to end up dead, Because my condition was now critical
Chances of survival slim more a less doctors told friends and family
When on arrival suffering a cardiac arrest they’d doubt any recovery
Rushed into intensive care but did eventually some how pull through
But for quit a while looked the worst for ware my face black and blue
And for quit a while impaired my sight, which made it very hard to see
I doubt I'll ever forget that night back in late September ninety three
Written about a bad time back in 1993 talk about the unexpected that you don’t
Written some time between june/ july( 2002)
trying not to go off on one stick to main events that took place
also trying to add a bit of humour at same time
She is Pacific ocean
Tranquil from outside
tumultuous from with in
Shallow it seems from the surface
But deep, very deep it decends
And what things it carry inside
Lively Coral reefs
And Volcanoes
Ready to errupt...
A world that can never be uncovered...
She is a cloud
Floating on air waves
Struggling to find a place
Where it will shower all of its gems
And those won't go wasted
But will reborn the dead soil
And the sleepy seeds
So precious, so full of potentials...!
She is a butterfly
With the heart of an eagle
Standing like a mountain
Against the Tsunamis
That rise when stones are thrown in the sea
Fragile yet very strong...
Emotional but Taciturn...
She is a moon
Having different phases
Which come out to roam every night
To enlight the valleys
To listen to the untold stories
And go back in morning to burry them....
She is light, she is beauty
A food for thought, a key to imaginations
And yes she is a flower
Scared of taking her hands of her face
For she will be cut, put in vase and eventually thrown away
Fate has this in store for flowers
She is but she is not
She exists but she does not
Like stars on a full moon night
She is there, and she is not!
She exists yet she does not...!!
________________________________________
~Paghunda Zahid
Placed 01 in Brian's J. Select any form any theme poetry contest
Adorn the sky with stars
Paint the sea with clouds
Perchance the festering of emotions
And lingering divisions
Divinity is born from thought
Altruism is the father
Compassion is likely the mother
But fear is the result
Ancient ways delay
Civic progression over time
And a dilapidation of human morality
Constructed of misconstrued ideals
The great sea separates
Divided by mighty continents
Populated with critters
Eventually by humanity
The greatest truth
Is forged by a foundation of lies
Law codes are a house of cards
Fragile at best
Ancient ways are here to stay
Nostalgia is the blind God
Change is the sacrificed martyr
Parade a paradox of love and hate
there is tenderness
in each dab of the napkin
slowly arriving upon her lips
removing the aftermath
of the meal he had prepared
remembering now, Cupid's bow
that drew him in countless times
memories he holds dearer each day
as those azure eyes now vacant
disappear into the cloudless existence
he now must care for
gone are those moments
when she could recall a moment
they long ago shared
now he holds an abyss
a deepening that will eventually
claim all the life they shared
there is tenderness
in each dab of the napkin
slowly arriving upon her lips
there is no mourning in his smile
knowing in the band of gold upon his finger
this is the nascent of their forever
and at this point in their eternity
simply grateful for the moment
to gaze upon her Cupid's bow
and steal another kiss
Oregon 2/2025
In the beginning, we burned bright,
brighter than any suns or stars could ever dream of,
but even suns and stars eventually burn out.
You were taken from this world, from me,
far quicker than should be allowed.
For every plan of the future we made together
came and went as nothing more
than a reminder of the emptiness you left behind.
An emptiness I have no intention of trying to fill,
for a thousand bodies of men just like you
would only be enough to bury me in,
but none would ever be enough
to fill the void your loss has created.
Grief is a powerful thing like that.
They say it comes in waves,
and if that is the case, then I am drowning.
I say let me.
At least then I could see you once more,
even if only for a fleeting moment,
as my mind plays all of the best my life has offered
in my final seconds.
I know I would see you then.
This is not the life you would want for me, that is known.
But I do not know how to live in a world
where I am expected to enjoy you only in mind,
otherwise, you are confined to this dusty box of memories.
Photographs do not allow me to hear your laugh,
so loud and full of life
that I had no other choice but to laugh with you.
Your smile is not done justice,
with its warmth and promise of kindness.
Sobbing into the clothes you wore
is incomparable to weeping on your shoulders
as you reminded me
that I was not to face the world alone.
And yet here I am, doing exactly that.
Time, my love, has not done me any favors.
It has been my greatest enemy,
the one thing I hate more
than the loss that plagues my soul.
And yet, it is the time we spent together
that has allowed me to stay strong and true.
I can only wait for the day
that it reunites us.
No matter by
Adam and the Ants,
this inquisitive mind
doth wonder why
tis virtually imp
possible to envision
subatomic particles
that jockey and vie,
asper analogous, sans
microscopic solar systems,
which invisible orbitz unify
constituent molecular
entities kept intact
(for some designated
amount of time),
which for simplicity sake, thy
will imagine to freeze
frame, and esse spy
one fleeting instant,
and deem such
ordinarily random
behavior arbitrarily static -
even though unseen vibrant
matter aswirl and dynamic,
perhaps vaguely emulating
(of course, a bajillion times
smaller than a pinhead)
Catcher in the Rye,
or perchance, there
could be at least one
(maybe more) byte size
Matthew Scott Harris try
ying to write
a poem, analogous
to a parallel universe,
(uh huh...sure right -
just play along),
yea, I hear that sigh
anyway, if possible
to zoom and pry
into subatomic webbed
wide world well nigh,
I gently urge
you to visualize,
and make believe
dramatic killing fields
akin, (and/or
ache'n) to My Lai
destroy, (and
frankly zap ping)
potential vitality, thus high
jacking regenerative
cellular capacity
eventually cause
zing carbon based.
i. e. organic life to die.