Long Famous Poems

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


Premium Member Why Celebrate Your Birthday

The famous saying is to "Thank God you seen another year
But there's more pains, aches and worries with more tears
Each year you're asking yourself what did i do with my life
Creating a bucket list and trying to make it right
If we're proud of aging then why have a midlife crises
Why do you have to become a senior to get a deal on prices
When you celebrate your birthday its like celebrating death
Losing your health and independence until there's nothing left
When your young it seems fun celebrating getting older
The laughing stops when life starts to feel much colder
We're born and enjoy life never wondering the purpose
This would always be the case because our life is imperfect
With each passing year you should prepare for the worse
Looking at this current generation under this curse
We're made from dust only to return to the ground
How does the song "Happy Birthday" sound to you now?
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Yo-Yo Dieting

Supposedly the ideal woman's measurements

Used to be 36-32-36

That's no longer reality which the fashion industry

Is finally starting to acknowledge

We're starting to see ads with a little heavier models

Because a recent study showed

That 63% of Americans are overweight

I'm definitely within that majority

Although I'm doing something about it

Have been riding my exercise bike

For 20 minutes every day for the past 2 years

One of my meals, either lunch or dinner is a salad

However as we age, the difficulty of losing weight

Becomes much more difficult to achieve

For a lot of us the famous yo-yo dieting comes into play

Without strong perseverance one must be dedicated

To the cause but it also must be a whole new life style change

And must include a steady exercise routine

It doesn't have to resemble an Olympic training program

As long you're active in some manner or other

And of course eating properly

No one ever said dieting would be easy

But the benefits far outweigh the effort

So get with the program people... it's all up to you!



© Jack Ellison 2015
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Woebegone Love

My one true love is sadly gone,
a name upon stone I dwell on;
oh, do you recall the chiffon,
of my wedding dress in Bourgogne.
The green park in France and the swan,
since your death I have been withdrawn;
yes,  I am a girl woebegone,
and I dream all the night 'till dawn.
Oh, why is the grass like a lawn;
your name etched in cold stone upon.

I visit when the flowers bloom,
and bring red roses to your tomb;
I love the scent of their perfume,
oh, rest in peace, my love, my groom.
And though lovely warm-  I am gloom,
I wilt like a flower of doom;
a bird sings-  then grief I resume,
falling is a white feather plume.
And the baby stirs in my womb;
a place waits- a nursery room.

I come when the leaves have gone dry,
and wind is making the trees sigh;
above clouds dance in the Fall sky,
it seems my long hair wants to fly.
I sang such a sweet lullaby,
when our son had to say goodbye;
I see him as a butterfly,
oh, I ask God why, why, why, why!
For what reason must baby die;
never-   do I get a reply.

I come when snow has fallen white,
the snowflakes giving me delight;
though my coat warm-   the cold does bite,
a gust takes my scarf on a flight.
I see your tomb-  your name not quite,
oh, I still dream of you at night;
will enjoy my Christmas despite,
I am so tired of the long fight.
Keeping you in my mind and sight;
I think you are in the starlight.

I come when all is green neon,
darling-   time for me to move on;
I have swept my tears with a broom,
my  mask-  happy girl all assume.
Flowers your tomb will beautify,
I plant you violets and cry;
my future darling will be bright,
for of my life I now write, write.
And I am finding my own way;
still hard  w i t h o u t   you in my day.


________________________________
October 9, 2019


Poetry/Rhyme/Woebegone Love
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1187-420-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the contest, “Ludix-Rym”
sponsor, Lu Loo

First Place

*Bourgogne is a region in France near Paris famous for wine.
Form: Rhyme

Thanksgiving gobbledygook

Thanksgiving gobbledygook

The following anecdote baste
upon overactive imagination of mine
in sync with being married
and monogamously living socially chaste
life as a scrupulous anchorite,
whose weather beaten corporeal flesh
plus sabotaged, riddled,
and tuckered psyche effaced
after becoming adequately stuffed,
this turkey (in the straw)

then flapped his trussed wings
(at the speed of sound)
if listening closely echoes refrains
from Amazing Grace,
(which words reflections of John Newton,
a slave trader
who nearly died in a shipwreck,
and who eventually became a minister.
after which he penned the famous words
of "Amazing Grace" for a sermon

for his 1773 New Year's service
at the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul)
unable to escape ill fate of mine
i.e. being analogous to cooked goose
subsequently found him interlaced
with various and sundry
other dead animals
fixed to be mounted
(courtesy a taxidermist) on a wall.

The holiday dates back
to November 1621,
when the newly arrived Pilgrims
and the Wampanoag Indians
gathered at Plymouth
for an autumn harvest feast,
an event regarded
as America's “first Thanksgiving.”

Ever since then throve,
a commercialization, commodification,
commination and communication war,
where many a big box department store
large-scale buildings
of more than 50,000 square feet,
the store is usually plainly designed
and often resembles a large box
for example Walmart, Home Depot,

Tesco, and Ikea are examples
of big-box retailers,
but never forget warehouse clubs
such as Costco and BJ's
considered the original kind
of big-box retailers nevermore
to witness mom and pop businesses
(small business entities
that thrive independently and spurred

pick/pull yourself up
by bootstraps guild den age,
or family-owned) hardcore
bricks and mortar outfits
prominent during pre industrial
high societies, when love's labour's lost
venerated, serenaded, and promenaded
like The School of Scandal of trysts,
buzzfeeding the literati 
with tantalizing amour.

Premium Member A Viking Presence in North America

Took sail with a north-easterly wind did the Nords
From the glaciated valleys and narrow steep fjords
A sea voyage away by chance three lands found
Norsemen have come to claim their ground
Dragon-headed prows, ships with wooden oars
Centuries before famous lauded explorers
A Vikings roaring soul was the longboat Drakkar
Thru misty waters and unintruded shores afar
The land was calm—no frost in winter
Wild wilderness and little did the grass wither
What’s green is ice and what’s ice is green
Named in contrast so the truth be unseen
So not to make it sound it’s to one’s liking
This is the legacy of the brash hardy breed Viking
The sagas of the Icelanders—Edda
Old Norse óðr poetry of how they discovered America
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Search

I heard a prophet once had said,
To "Seek and ye shall find",
So I went in search of something,
To ease my troubled mind.

I climbed a mountain till I reached,
As high as I could go.
I scanned the valleys far and wide,
But all I found was woe.

I clothed myself in fine attire,
Put rings upon my fingers;
But still this age old yearning stayed,
In heart and mind, it lingered.

I read the tomes of famous men,
Authorities on the subject,
Of all the things of mind and men,
But still I would object.

It should be clear and yet it's not,
I could not understand,
The how and why and whence I came,
To stand upon the land;

And then one day it came to me,
One book I had forgot,
An old book I had had for long,
And yet  knew it not.

I should have read it long ago,
For in it was the answer,
To the question I had asked so long,
I found, at last, The Master.
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

The Rocket Ship

Some very good friends sat around in their basement
I think we've all been here before
The room of course was smokey and wasted
The four buddies were bored right out of their gourds

They all thought they should do something special
So they decided to build a rocket ship
Throwing a bunch of old plywood together
They then sat around, smoked some more, and planed their spacey trip

Jody spoke up first and said let's go to the moon
But they'd heard that had already been done
That's when he came up with the brightest idea
I know what!  We'll go to the sun!

Go to the sun?!  We may be high but we're not crazy!!
They replied, this ships made out of wood
That's when Jody explained his brilliant idea
Nodding like Bobble Head dolls they all understood

As Jody dug deeper into his intricate plan
All the guys seemed to like it a lot
They would go when it's dark in the middle of night
When the suns put out and it isn't so hot

Since Jody's the genius, they put him in charge
He seems to have a grasp on what's left of his brain
There were four of them but only room for two
They drew straws 'cause they were having difficulty remembering their names

The straws turned out to be the same length
Cutting them, somebody forgot
So they picked Jody as their Captain Kirk
And Jason as his sidekick Spock

Out in left field, the excitement was contagious
Jody yelled, 'To infinity and Beyond'
They knew that quote came from some famous movie
But had a memory lapse so they gave him more Bobble Head nods

At that point they realized they had no engine
Being impaired, not a one of them cared
They all went back down into the basement
And took another kind of trip without going anywhere

Crapping Out A Masterpiece, Part I

It’s funny to look at creatives,
painters, writers, musicians and such,
look back across their bodies of work,
and laugh at how much of it is luck,
that things they put their whole soul into
now languish deep in obscurity,
while works they did for cash rise above,
the reasons a compete mystery.

For example, Anthony Burgess,
the writer of Clockwork Orange fame,
wrote the book in three weeks for money,
from a half-baked impulse in his brain,
only to see the story snowball,
becoming, by far, his best known work,
even became a famous movie,
the success of it made his brain hurt
to the point he denounced his own book
as he went through the balance of years,
but try to recall his other books
and you will find no memory appears.
Though the man didn’t embrace the work,
the impact of the tale did not cease,
and I think that it is safe to say
poor Burgess crapped out a masterpiece.

You have seen it plenty in music,
like the overperforming B-side,
KISS was known for their raucous rocking,
that is how they’re practically defined,
and yet their greatest commercial hit
was a sappy love ballad called Beth,
a B-side to more pulse-pounding fare,
yet somehow outperforming the rest.
How many songs came about like this?
It’s so many it’s now a cliché,
and all that was well before Youtube,
now it seems like every other day
some amateur you’ve never heard of,
who past efforts just seemed cringeworthy,
just got ten million hits overnight
because they crapped out a masterpiece.

Max Brand writing all of his westerns,
a genre that he helped to define,
thought they were junk, his poems were art,
yet just the westerns have survived time.
The people who made the first Matrix
Have done nothing that impressive since,
to the point that it’s become quite clear
they don’t know what made the first a win.
No matter what the medium is,
it seems not to matter in the least,
set people free and somehow some will
happen to crap out a masterpiece...

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Satire On Commercials

A Satire on Commercials

I Don’t Need It
But Gimme Two
Written: by Miracle Man
8/2/2017

Commercials are filled with lots of untruths and ploys, 
Using scantily dressed women oozing charm and poise;

Each with the thought of enticing me to spend money,
Using smoke and mirrors and often insultingly funny;

Commercials are tailored to my individual spending habits,
And each time I Inquire, my emails multiply like rabbits.

Sometimes the pitch man is one, handsome or famous,
Buying on name recognition would make me an ignoramus. 

But behind each infomercial lies a free marketer’s creed,
To convince me to purchase what I don’t really need.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Mine Last Breath Only With You

The world was on fire, no one could save me but you
 - Chris Isaak - Wicked Game


All I ask of you, is to stand firm by me. 
Please. It's all I desire, while the world's on fire.
Remain in my life, feel the fatigue shatter. 
Dance with me on clouds that began to gather.
I want to wake in the dawn full of laughter. 
I know I love you, no one else could save me.
Just don't want our love to slip through another.
Away in a storm path in spent in slumber.  

If

These be our last hours, mine last breath only with you.

A woman in love with the fire that only
you can ignite; never leaving me lonely. 
You make me happy even when I'm broken, 
stumble and fall with just your words unspoken. 
Into a world on fire, no one can save me.
No longer will I conceal my heart that swell 
with pride and love my soul infinitely dwells. 

If

These be our last hours, mine last breath only with you.


Forever love, no one can save me, but you. 
Say you love me again. Don't let it go through, 
vanish, and gaze off, utter shadow of tears.
Don't quietly slip out, to leave me alone
shattered. I love you more than you'll ever know. 
You promised your life on a sea of blue sky.
Dance me to your heart of breathless umber sigh. 
Dance me to end of forever mid the trees. 
Let's leave this world behind on the scented breeze. 

If

These be our last hours, mine last breath only with you.


2/10/2020


4. The world was on fire, no one could save me but you
 - Chris Isaak - Wicked Game
Famous poetic lines 3 - Love songs Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

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