Long Everyday Poems

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


Premium Member 30 Day Millionaire

If you want to be a millionaire in 30 days
start with a penny and double it everyday.
At the end of 30 days
you will be amazed.
 
Day 1.                    .01 + .01 = .02 cents
Day 2.                    .02 + .02 = .04 cents
Day 3.                    .04 + .04 = .08 cents
Day 4.                    .08 + .08 = .16 cents
Day 5.                    .16 + .16 = .32 cents
Day 6.                    .32 + .32 = .64 cents
Day 7.                    .64 + .64 = $1 dollar & .28 cents
Day 8.                   1.28 + 1.28 = $2 dollars & .56 cents
Day 9.                   2.56 + 2.56 = $5 dollars & .12 cents
Day 10.                 5.12 + 5.12 = $10 dollars & .24 cents
Day 11.               10.24 + 10.24 = $20 dollars & .48 cents
Day 12.               20.48 + 20.48 = $40 dollars & .96 cents
Day 13.               40.96 + 40.96 = $81 dollars & .92 cents
Day 14.               81.92 + 81.92 = $163 dollars & .84 cents
Day 15.             163.84 + 163.84 = $327 dollars & .68 cents
Day 16.             327.68 + 327.68 = $655 dollars & .36 cents
Day 17.             655.36 + 655.36 = $1,310 dollars & .72 cents
Day 18.          1,310.72 + 1,310.72 = $2,621 dollars & .44 cents
Day 19.          2,621.44 + 2,621.44 = $5,242 dollars & .88 cents
Day 20.          5,242.88 + 5,242.88 = $10,485 dollars & .76 cents
Day 21.        10,485.76 + 10,485.76 = $20,971 dollars & .52 cents
Day 22.        20,971.53 + 20,971.53 = $41,943 dollars & .04 cents
Day 23.        41,943.04 + 41,942.04 = $83,886 dollars & .08 cents
Day 24.        83,886.08 + 83,886.08 = $167,773 dollars & .16 cents
Day 24.      167,773.16 + 167,773.16 = $335,546 dollars & .32 cents
Day 25.      335,546.32 + 335,546.32 = $671,092 dollars & .64 cents
Day 26.      671,092.64 + 671,092.64 = $1,342,185 dollars & .28 cents
Day 27.   1,342,185.28 + 1,342,185.28 = $2,684,370  dollars & .56 cents 
Day 28.   2,684,370.56 + 2,684,370.56 = $5,368,741 dollars & .12 cents
Day 29.   5,368,741.12 + 5,368,741.12 = $,10,737,482 dollars & .24 cents
Day 30. 10,737,482.24 + 10,737,482.24 = $21,474,964 dollars & .48 cents
__________________________________________________________
 
30 Day Total = $42,839,673 dollars & .95 cents
__________________________________________________________
 
I attempted to create a mathematical poem...poorly,
and I miscalculated the final total. Maybe one day I'll correct it.
Form: Rhyme


Him Too, Or the Drowning Femenist, Part I

Dylan Carston was a well-off young man,
thanks to a large and health trust fund,
his father was a true Wall Street ace
and had been quite generous to his sons.

Dylan had set himself up in Miami
after years spent getting his MBA,
he did consulting four days every week,
the other three he did like to play.

He’d partied with friends at all the bars,
and had his share of hot one-night stands,
not yet had he thought of a wife and kids,
he was enjoying the life of a young man.

One Saturday as he walked down the beach
to get exercise and breath the sea air,
he stumbled upon a frantic woman
calling for him to go over there.

As he drew near he saw down in the sand
a young woman who’s face had gone blue,
he could see no lifeguard near where they were,
but fortunately he knew what to do.

He found no pulse when he listened close,
and placed two hands high on her left breast,
with hard compression he began CPR,
pumping furiously at her chest.

Every so often he placed his mouth on hers
and forced oxygen deep into her lungs,
the other woman ran off to find more help
while Dylan continued the rhythmic pump.

Finally after three desperate minutes
a gurgled rasp echoed up from her throat,
life returned to her, the blue fading out,
though her eyes still knew not where to go.

Moments later he heard the rush of feat,
the lifeguard and the woman had returned,
Dylan gestured to where the girl lay,
“I brought her back, now I think it’s your turn.”

The lifeguard thanked him for taking action,
then knelt down slowly at the victim’s side,
ambulances came, reports were fill out,
when Dylan left three hours had gone by.

He felt good about saving the woman’s life,
it was a moment he would not forget,
congratulations came in, on top of that
the lifeguards sent him a certificate.

Three weeks went by and Dylan returned to
the safe routines of the everyday world,
and bit by bit his thoughts turned away
from the near death of that helpless girl.

So it was with a great deal of surprise
when a process server told him these words:
“Dylan Carston, you’re being sued for assault,
you can consider yourself dully served.”

Dylan’s mind whirled at the accusation,
he had no idea how this could be true?
Had some ex regretted their time and cried ‘rape,’
were they evil enough to go down that route?

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

Whats the Difference Between Me and You

I didn’t grow up trying to better anyone 
but I bettered the bitter and discovered haters one by one 
turns out it’s a lonely place when you’re the champion 
everybody wants a piece everyday on repeat 
you see them looking at you with the envy in their eyes 
because I worked out while they sat eating all the pies 
the effort and the discipline continuous developing 
playing sport and at the gym 
while they weren’t doing anything 
they think that I was born athletic lucky genes they say 
while they watch tv smoke and laze lacking energy each day 
hours they spend dreaming about glory and achieving what they ain’t
while I compete in competition hard work starts to pay 
living dreams the actual scenes and getting lots of praise 
while no one ever notices the ones dreaming they are great 
desperate for attention they start to label you that way 
I don’t want attention I enjoy the sports I play 
they look for ways they better you in any category 
and then they talk aloud about it most assuredly 
making sure that people know until they all agree 
they’ve finally found the sweet spot they’ve found a victory 
but then you go and win something and all the people see 
then everybody talks about it and you are centre scene 
and this just grows the hate resentment and the jealously 
so now they will compete with you every possibility 
behaviour fuelled by envy and it’s obvious to me 
if you are lazy you’ll grow bitter and be a nobody 
and you’ll become an empty shell who dreams they do achieve 
desperate to be noticed by the whole community 
and you will have to tell yourself just how great you are 
over time you will believe it and see yourself a star 
but that is called delusion you’re not who you think you are 
becoming confident and cocky a reality apart 
your happy days will be the days others suffer hard 
you’ll kick them down and dance around and talk to them real harsh
entitled lazy liar horrid no empathy or heart 
and this is how you will achieve as the narcissist you are 
all because you sat and dreamed and smoked and drank the bar listening to winning stories of those held in high regard 
and as your ego disappears amongst the mental scars 
you’ll be wishing you were someone else hating who you
saying lots of nasty to people so high up above you
while they can’t even hear you they just laugh and shoulder shrug you
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Suicide

Yesterday she killed herself by hanging from the ceiling
It carried her weight but she could not
She was everyday troubled by the future worries
All she wanted a good tight sleep, away from all the distress and depression
Hence she ultimately chose to sleep forever leaving just a small note behind
Note to thank her parents for taking care of her
For bringing her to this beautiful world
Note to thank her brother for making her smile
For engaging her in his little games which took away the sorrow for some seconds.

It was not an easy step
It was a step she always wanted to avoid
but couldn’t.
It was not a sudden random step but the one which was very carefully choosen
A step taken by fighting her own thoughts
Fighting her own body
But she chose it
Chose it to completely end
Completely end not only her life
but also her grievances and torments

She fought, fought with the whole world
But at last lost
Maybe she was afraid of getting called a failure
A word which bothered her, haunted her
A word which affected her so deeply that she chose to end herself
A word which terrified her more than death

From getting straight A’s to barely passing her tests
From loving to communicate with everyone to barely speaking to her own parents
From being extrovert to introvert
From loving colours to attaching to black
A colour which she hated but now loved like hell
From having several friends to none by her side
She saw all....
She felt everyting but never expressed.

She tried, tried very hard to make her parents proud, tried every possible way to please them but couldn’t
Her parents gave her all happiness
She got everything she wanted
Her parents barely bought for themselves
But always got the best for her
They spent their hard earned money like water for her smile

But she was not able to make them proud
She was not able to meet up with their silent expectations
No they never forced or pressurized her
They always supported her
But she a overthinker could not see her parents working hard, neglecting their health for her while she could not even make them smile.

No she doesn’t blame anyone for her...
She blamed herself
She thought of herself as a complete failure
A disgrace for her family
A frustrated, defeated and born loser
Incompetent and disappointment

And she left the world with a
smile on her tender face....

Its Not a Religion It's a Life Style

Its not a Religion it’s a Life style 

Its not a Religion it’s a Life style Don’t be Blind by your belief. Or too blind to see that if you 
are not For Christ there is something that you do believe. No such thing as a non 
Believer. In life we are all receivers of something or shall I say someone. 
So don’t think for once you are operating under your own mind. There’s nothing
comical about the truth the light the things the vision of Christ.

 He’s not a celebrity Superstar so don’t get it twisted. More to say is he is the star who 
created existence which none of us can Shine without his light. No you may not need a 
Sunday Television. But you do need That divine intervention. Where he can come into your 
life and you can accept him as Your Christ Lord and Savior. Of all things please don’t 
quench the Holy Spirit as the old Folks use to say don’t make jokes of the Holy Ghost.

 If you think you don’t need time for Prayer or any of the other things. When you down to 
the lowest low I guarantee you will call Upon his name. Oh you say that for you its never 
been hard. Well the word say every knee Shall bow and every tongue will confess that 
Jesus Christ is Lord. If you don’t want a place Up there maybe you will be the first to be 
comfortable in hell. Just because you think your Head is alright a fool do too. No scientific 
tool can be use when you meet him face to face. Don’t let your logical man get in the way 
of what your spirit man is trying to show you. 

The Devil is good at deceiving a liar that can never speak the truth. But try Jesus he will 
never fail You. You come in asking for a miraculous vision. When the gift of Life was a 
miraculous decision. To be living in someone else and live in this world and not accept that 
Jesus plays a Hugh role in your Life. So the style you living let it be for Christ. But I can see 
why when you have so many false lies of Super heroes and other people want God job. 

But don’t let your spirit be rob. Confessing the truth can Put the enemy so far behind you. 
Things that you think you have to fight with, God he will make it right. Line up in his word 
speak it everyday so you can be heard. Not be heard by people but by that thing that’s 
trying to keep you mental. Mentally distracted from the real. Confess the Word to be 
healed. Don gamble your life. Don’t gamble your life.
Form: Lyric


A Dream Called Erelah

I awake with the sweat of a distant dream....

Thinking of what I'd seen
Remembering what was in my mind's eye
Such sad, sad thoughts of a time gone by

I remember the heat of the desert and the dangers of camouflage men
of small remote villages.......and the people within

I recall a child.......I can still see her smile
Black was her hair, her hands they were oh so small
I can still see her face.........I remember it all

Erelah, yes that was her name
and ever since I met her my life's not been the same

She'd come to our station almost everyday
coming for her hunger, always to play
running round and round, hiding from us all
I still can hear her laughter........ I remember it all

Such a small girl, born into a ruthless world
A world where men prey upon men, and life is simply discarded like sand to the wind

Sunlight and shadows
One illuminates while the other falls
As days become weeks, distant voices call............

Messages of distress come over the wire
speaking of death, fire
of a small village, of evil men who rape, murder, and pillage

Cloaked with the tools of Azreal, the tarmac erupts
Awash in wind and sand, we're elevated into the air
Nap-of-the-earth quickly, mountains, valleys pass by fast
Distant souls burning, we ascend upon the village at last

Pyre smoke engulfs the senses, as it swirls around and around
Hovering high above, we descend swiftly to the chard ground
Toils of men are revealed in the dawn's light
The departed are scattered about as we scour for signs of life

From one burnt structure to another
We find nothing but hopelessness and despair
Only the dead and the dying, Iblis has been here

A familiar door, one I passed through many times before
Reluctantly I peer in, and to my great sadness I'd see
Little Erelah laying by her mother, still deep within a "dream"

But from this "dream" she'll not awake, nor shall she ever play
Both her innocence and life were taken

Never to learn to read, never to learn to write
Never to run and sing again, due to man's mindless strife

I promised to protect the children ever since that day
And always defend them against man's evil ways

And never ever forget her
That angel from above, or her simple message

LOVE.........

To me she was a moment of Spring, in a lifetime of endless Winter
She is but a dream..........
© M M Sii  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A Year To Remember Blessings 2021

The year 2020 was a year of adjusting to new realities dealing with the pandemic. A pandemic that affected so many people in many ways.  This year is one of hope that the lessons of yesterday will become our blessings today.  

I am so grateful for my life which includes my loving wife and family. I have also been blessed with two dogs who greet me every day with wagging tails and sparkles in their eyes when I come home from work. They make me smile inside. 

I became more aware and thankful for all the things that surround me because of the pandemic.  This spring, the dandelions were the first flowers to stand out against the green grass, and I found them to be beautiful.  My heart was a bit sad when had to mow the lawn. 

The other colors this spring was truly amazing, especially the plants and flowers. There were animals that came to visit us, including raccoons, a mother deer, and her baby.  It was special to witness a skunk and a cat eating side by side from the food dish left by my wife. Yes, we feed all of these animals. 

Although we have a comfortable home, and a roof over our heads, and those creatures outdoors needed some help this year because of a drought. We installed a soaker hose on our fence dripping to the ground.  It was a blessing to witness all the different birds and animals searching for water to quench their thirst.  

We installed several hummingbird feeders and they are everywhere now. The hummingbirds have come to know us so well that they fly in front of our faces to chatter.  We have a water trough for the animals outside the fence around our house with a few feeders.

The drought this year was so severe that the plants were so oh very thirsty.  Thankfully, we are blessed with a well, allowing us to care for those things that needed our help.

Then autumn came, and there was an explosion of color. The leaves seemed to be extra brilliant this year.  The tree leaves chattered in the autumn breeze that ending our drought with rain.  

As Thanksgiving approaches, we experience moments when we feel overwhelmed by the blessings of our relationships, opportunities, and the beauty around us. We tend to express our feelings and share them during Thanksgiving, but we should always remember that this is not just about Thanksgiving day. We need to express these things everyday.

Edward J Ebbs - October 30, 2021

A Message

This is not a poem, this is a message for those who only come at my page to see flaws in my poem and in me, so they can make foul verbal comments. I'm not referring to my fellow poets here. I'm referring to my ill- minded compatriots. 

Some even comment that its not me who makes my poems. But you can't really know or comprehend what it takes to be a poet and to make a poem if you're not a poet yourself. As Bob Dylan said, "don't criticize what you can't understand." It makes me smile to hear nonsense comments, like those saying that I copied works from other people when the poem is all about me or my situation, even containing personal details about me, especially those who comment that I plagiarize everything, including a short prose or a simple poem. You cannot apply your level of thinking or situation to that of the poet. 

As you can see, every poem we make here are copyrighted the moment we make it, and many if not most of them are made for a specific competition under specific criteria set by the judges, so there's no way we just take poems from somewhere and place them here, especially if our intention is to place in the competition. 

One thing that you should understand is that every poem is unique, because the condition under which it was written cannot be exactly duplicated in another time and another place. This means that except for competitions with open themes that may accept poems that were already written, poets write based on their feelings, emotion, state of body and mind, prevailing inspiration and other surrounding circumstances the time they write, which make them the only person who can explain the exact meaning of their poems. When one plagiarizes a work, he only copies the lyrics but not the essence of the work as when it was made by the writer, and definitely, the skill behind the making of the work cannot be plagiarized. That sets the difference between the person pretending and the real maker of the work. So there's no point in copying works from other people because there is no essence of self fulfilment in it. 

Every poem here is open for everyone to see. If we'd be putting plagiarized works here everyday, we'd be slapped with countless charges. Besides, the admins of this site do not allow plagiarized works to be placed here. This is a site for lovers of poetry and not for haters.

December 23, 2023, PST, SPC
Form: Prose

The Unplanned Agony

after years of working &
raising the kids, whom both adopted,
ended up with problems that came from
undisclosed heredity,
the two had put aside a 
nest egg, as so many did 
in their generation,
growing up with parents who
remembered the depression &
what it was like to have nothing---
hearing everyday that 
“a penny saved is a penny earned,”
putting together a life for themselves
while taking care of their own parents
as they passed on 
as people do, as we all will,
they thought that when illness started to show its face
in the latter years
that retirement & more time spent 
nurturing each other back to health,
would be the most appropriate way of doing things &
so it went---
mother was the first to walk into the hospital
to get cut up & 
upon returning home,
father had to take care of her, full time,
so he retired early---
at this time,
the economy was said to be doing “well,”
and nothing was being said of the atrocities to come,
so father, always trying to be fiscally sound,
invested a good portion of their savings,
thinking that over time, it would multiply,
like the broker assured him &
the two would be able to stay retired,
living off what they had saved,
as had been planned---
but father was next into the light blue gown &
being told there was cancer growing inside him,
the worry shifted just as mother was getting better,
to the new horror---
& while the two worked on keeping each other 
emotionally sane, while their own bodies started to
give up on them,
the meltdown came,
like a tropical storm of immeasurable proportion
sweeping in from some angle that couldn’t be detected
by any formerly successful means &
the unplanned agony began.

the money lost by others with whom a working couple
had put all their trust,
could never be regained &
their bodies now exhausted by a life of work,
recovering & enduring illness,
would have the most difficult time trying to make it again
in the 21st century work force---
so as the stress came on full
the strain joined in &
as the strain & stress pummeled them both,
all that was left was the re-mortgaging of their house,
the last thing they wanted to give up,
that very vital shelter over both of their heads,
now being hocked in the system’s pawn shop,
allowing them nothing to pass on to their children,
allowing them to never stop agonizing over each passing day
wondering just when the ball will completely drop.

Ventilation

This one is for you dad, I guess I had to write this poem, had to tell you how I feel because I've kept it in so long.
I love you, yes I do but this is what's been bothering me, never thought I could forgive you when you said that stuff to me.
You hurt me bad that day for real so it seems I can't forget, and every time I think about dad it really makes me sick.
Couldn't believe you put them before me, I was always there for you, and every time you needed something I was always coming through.
Snuck you food and snuck you sheets and although I'd get in trouble, it didn't mean a thing because no one would come above you.
When the family would talk about you I took your side without a doubt, I'm like " you only get one dad so y'all just better watch y'all mouth.
I would give you my last dollar without a care on how you'd use it, and when I told you that though dad you  had me really looking stupid.
You called me female dog you called me whore, and that mess killed me deep inside, you had me really snapping on you, I can't believe you made me cry.
I tried to hate you for it dad but my heart won't let that happen, instead of hating you I'm missing you and that just got me mad and...
I want you to tell me you love me, and that you won't do that mess again, because I really need to hear it, I think then I'll let you in.
Let you back into my heart because I swear the love was fading, didn't know how I should feel about you and that's just freaking crazy.
You were talking to me like I was a chick out in the streets, like you hated me or something, like we had some type of beef.
It's crazy that I miss you though I thought that wouldn't happen, I thought I could forget you but you would always keep me laughing.
With them crazy freaking dances and the crazy things you'd say.
I would tell them I didn't miss you but thought about you everyday.
But dad with all this being said I'm just trying to let you know, about the the way you made me feel and how it's hard to let it go.
I just want my old dad back the one who used to hug and kiss me, the one that always cared and showed he really loved me.
I said I want my old dad back, the one I'd sit and conversate with, the one who kept me going, the one I'd joke around and play with.
So here's this poem dad, hope you took heed I hope you listened.
Didn't wanna make you mad but welcome to my ventilation.

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter