Long Explaining Poems
Long Explaining Poems. Below are the most popular long Explaining by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Explaining poems by poem length and keyword.
Humble – Emma Maelly
My life feels like a track,
Conditioning back to back.
It feels so hard, jumping every hurdle,
Every setback makes me feel like a turtle.
I get tired of running,
But I wasn’t tired of chasing people
Who were no longer meant to be.
So I keep pushing,
So in the end, I can finally feel free.
I get tired of writing essays in class,
But I wasn’t tired of texting, over-explaining myself
To people who didn’t need it.
So I move on and keep pushing
Till I’ve finally succeeded.
On the track, it’s you vs. you.
For people who haven’t experienced that,
They might think it’s too good to be true.
At the end of the day, you’re always going to have you.
They’ve found other people,
But at least you’ve found yourself
There are men who deserve to be loved
just because of their eyes,
naked souls which whisper
straight to your heart.
Star dust, soulmate, God's elemt.
Call it whatever you want,
there are no words explaining that bond.
Men you do not need to meet or touch
to offer them all the world's love
right from the moment you first heard them,
or looked into their pure, heavenlish, sad eyes.
Only God knows why we miss them
when they are gone.
Why we feel like if someone
ripped out a piece of us...
A piece we never knew we had.
And probably only God knows why
men who deserve that kind of
unconditional, inexplainable love
decide to give up and leave
while our hearts are broken into pieces
and refuse to accept their absence.
Even wind smells, feels and sounds like them...
In loving memory of Chris Cornell who has touched my soul in a very strange and inexplainable way.
The autumn leaves fell gently to the ground.
Covering the body like a blanket.
It lay undisturbed that way.
Sometimes the eyes would flicker.
Sensing the surroundings.
Waiting.
The children gathered for the annual Halloween party in the woods.
Mrs Banks gathered them round for the spooky story.
The evil Thing in the woods.
Legend has it she was explaining.
The eyes began to flicker.
Sensing new life.
Mrs Banks could see the children were really getting into the story.
Their little eyes were transfixed on her.
Transfixed on the thing behind her.
Mrs Banks never finished the story.
The children tried to explain.
The story about the Thing.
In the woods.
They never found Mrs Banks.
Not even a track of her.
It was like she never existed.
The book lay on the ground.
Now and again.
When the wind blew.
The pages would make that flickering sound.
Always stopping at.
Legend has it.
He had this recurring dream…it began soon after they met…
He dreamed of writing her a love song…a song she’d never forget.
A love song as beautiful as the nightingales singing in the trees…
with a melody so light it would float upon the breeze.
He tried many times over the years…so many hours in thought…
but he could not find the harmony…a songwriter he was not!
He never found the song as beautiful as the nightingales singing in the trees…
never found the melody that would float upon the breeze.
On their 50th year together…in a card…this message…not very long….
explaining how he tried for years to write her that love song.
I’ve always wanted to write you a love song as beautiful as the nightingales sining in the trees…with a melody so light it would float upon the breeze.
Many was the day…a love song I would start…
but I could never put on paper…what was singing in my heart.
Yes, I’ve always wanted to write you a love song…but I could not find the harmony…
It is perhaps my biggest regret…and the card was signed….Love, Me.
Tears made her smile glow as she held the card to her chest…
realizing, once again, how her life was truly blessed.
“All your life,” she said, “you’ve been writing me a love song as beautiful as the nightingales singing in the trees…with a melody so light it floats upon the breeze.
“You’ve added so much music to my life…every chorus has been exciting…
and every day you add a new verse to the love song you’ve been writing.”
Tears now made his smile glow...
after years of thinking he hand't written her a love song...
when she finally made him realize...
he'd been writing one all along.
Whether or Not
Hey you there walking so tall as if nothing else mattered,
Passing by those who's lives have been shattered.
Are you believing that this would never happen to you,
Better put yourself in check and see what's actually true.
Get right with yourself and make right your wrongs,
Or soon you'll have nobody, they will all be gone.
Start now while you are able and try being nice,
Account for your actions cause you can't always be right
Soon you will notice how your life is begining to change
Never again will this life of your's ever be the same.
Seriously, get smart and think about what I've been saying
Try listening sometime and start doing some praying
I do not claim to know it all and it's not up to me
There is one I know of that you will soon be able to see
You must trust me my friend , I would not lead you astray,
For I was once like you and realized I had lost my way.
As I am explaining all this it's important that you understand,
If you don't believe what I' am telling you , then nobody can.
No doubt it will be difficult and you're bound to stray
Stay the course and never give up ,you'll find your way
Whether or not love ever finds you my dear friend
It will be your faith that determins your life's end.
tac
Form:
The Wedding Cake
I told my bride that we should have
a special wedding cake
Something very different,
a statement it would make
Explaining how I saw it
and the flavors I desired
The special little figurines
my vision had inspired
How it would be delicious
in our favorite butter cream
Tinted in the color red,
yes that would be a dream
I even drew a picture
of each layer to the top
I really got excited
it was very hard to stop
Its then I looked into her eyes
and saw an evil stare
I asked what I had done so wrong
would she please like to share
That’s when she shattered all my hopes
when these few words she said
“There’s no way I will have a cake
that’s themed “The Walking Dead”
I guess that means I shouldn’t take my Daryl vest on the honeymoon. : )
2/27/17
Written for the Relishing Cake Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
2024.4.24
Ever since you installed on my phone,
All those fantastic Firmware,
After explaining about privacy issues.
I thought it was a wonderful idea
And you did it with good intentions
To protect me from all those spywares' infection.
But did you know, when you decided to end our friendship,
You left me struggling how to use them.
Most of the Apps you installed
Had started to have errors and troubles.
Every where I went, people shoke their head,
Stated your Apps were too far advanced.
Some even made several attempts,
At the end, they gave up on helping me,
I did not know what to do.
Someone suggested deleting all your Apps,
Getting back to the normal Google.
After a while, I decided to keep all your Apps,
Let people slowly introducing the spyware back.
Although you walked away from me,
But you actually left behind
A huge empty hole in me,
Many strange and weird Apps
Like Amaze, Conversations, Newpipe,
MPV, F-Droid, Open Camera and TEdit
And lot of Apps to drain my phone's batteries.
People also made comments,
I have been brain washed by your terrible privacy idea.
BB, why did you do this to me?
Home was always a word that had no one true meaning
For me it was always fleeting
Instability and screaming
Always had me dreaming
For a future that was teaming
With people who were never leaving
At least not without promise of returning
You showed me its possibly of being
Yet I ran away telling you you're lying
Not giving you a chance of showing
Me that home is a feeling
Not a place always emptying
After years of visuals and explaining
It is time to stop verifying
And see that what is gleaming
Is not an illusion but me smiling
In a mirror of our own creating
An image from which ill stop retreating
And finally just say, I'm home.
The Decade of Anchored Light: Living Rooted, Radiant, and Unapologetic
Dear 40s,
Now, I am 49 — about to leave you.
In my forties,
I stopped performing strength.
I began practicing peace.
No need to prove anything,
anymore.
They call it midlife crisis.
But you know what I think?
It’s choosing what finally fits —
even if it means letting go of everything that doesn’t.
I stopped arguing with clocks.
I stopped racing silence like it was a finish line.
I learned that rest isn’t laziness.
That letting go isn’t failure.
It is ok to rest
and even say “NO.”
I stopped rushing toward destinations that
drained me.
I stopped dancing for rooms that never clapped.
At forty-five,
I kept my joy private.
I stopped explaining my ‘softness.’
I started honoring it.
No need to explain.
Accept me or not . . .
I no longer needed applause to feel worthy.
I no longer feared solitude.
I became anchored . . .
not in certainty,
but in intention.
And the light I carry now?
It doesn’t flicker for attention.
It glows for legacy.
Financial independence didn’t arrive with fanfare;
it arrived with quiet choices,
with knowing I could walk away
and still be whole.
Job security wasn’t a title;
it was trust in my own consistency.
The kind built over years,
not moments.
Proficiency wasn’t perfection.
It was fluency in what matters.
It was knowing the rhythm of my own excellence.
And acceptance?
That was the hardest.
To look at my achievements
and not downplay them.
To say,
“Yes, I did that.”
Without shrinking.
Without apology.
In my forties,
I stopped auditioning for belonging.
I started living like I already belonged.
And that . . .
that was the beginning of peace.
(Published - Medium, The Healing Convergence Publication)
A day full of choices. Should be a day always full. Like A run for the roses. A chase of a bull. A singing in the rain. A “let’s rob a great train”. A “Liberty and Valance”. With A day and a balance. A hey “I’ve got wind for my wings”. Like “Jenny I ain't stupid” I know what LOVE brings. Like a skipper with a crew. And “Lucy, you got explaining to do!”. Like always “Lost” with a lifetime. In a lifeboat of you. A me full of choices. A “hey the sky’s blue”. Like you with the voices. In “ask A what to do”! A day full of choices. Should be a day always full. Like Always run for the roses. Without all the bull!