Long Fe Poems

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


Carmena the American, Part I

Carmena was born in Bolivia
but left that place at seventeen,
after three years of waiting for the chance
to live out an American dream.

When her folks finally got their green cards
they moved up into old Santa Fe,
Carmena finished out her high school years
picking up on all American ways.

She’d known some English before she had come,
but her vocab expanded real quick,
immersed in the tongue every day
her accent softened and became less thick.

This helped a lot in her father’s new shop,
he bought a gas station in a franchise,
Carmena waited on all walks of life,
and the experience opened her eyes.

She’d chat with truckers and travelers
from all over the fifty great states,
lefty Californians, southern good-ol’ boys,
northern Yankees and Texans hauling steaks.

Mid-westerners who were so crazy nice,
New Yorkers who always sounded pissed off,
good-natured rednecks looking for more beer,
even some Yoopers with their funny talk.

Learned more of her new home on that roadside
then she did in any public school,
what would divide and what would unite,
but the one thing that really stuck her as cool

was that Americans, the better ones,
made everything subservient to choice.
Culture and skin, ethnicity and faith,
you had the freedom to ignore and avoid.

These facts struck her as how things should be,
had not every person a claim to these rights?
Here force of law was meant to make free
people to be the driving force in their lives.

And best of all, she heard all sides of things,
good for thought, both the grease and gourmet,
when seven years passed, and she took that oath,
she became American in so many ways.

But then something happened she didn’t expect,
it came about in an election year,
talking with her friend Sue about the vote
she was greeted with anger and fear.

Carmena was confused,"Why the harsh look?
I was just sharing the thoughts on my mind.
I believe in gun rights, and low taxes,
My father’s shop has been having a time—”

Sue interrupted,”Do you hate yourself?!
Don’t you know that you’re a Hispanic?
You’re betraying your own kind, voting this way,
colored people should vote Democratic!”

Carmena was stunned, struggled to reply,
“But I see nothing good in their beliefs.”
Sue just fumed,”You’re a damn race-traitor,
or brain-washed by fascist enemies!”

CONCLUDES IN PART II
Form: Narrative


Ciclos sin final

Hola, te escribo en esta noche callada,
preguntando si tu alma aún no está helada.
Espero que estés bien, aunque ya no estés,
te quiero, aunque duela, aunque no me ves.

Ojalá respondieras, aunque sé que no,
el destino nos dicta este cruel adiós.
Te extraño, lo siento, no puedo evitar
sentir que este ciclo no quiere acabar.

Hice algo malo, no hay vuelta atrás,
no espero perdón, no pido más.
Solo me queda el peso del viento,
y un corazón que grita: "Lo siento".

Al final del camino, ¿qué fue lo peor?
Tal vez demostrarte mi tonto amor.
Tú, que las sombras no puedes soltar,
no sabes querer, ni sabes amar.

Me desgasto en dudas, ¿qué pude hacer?
Pero es inútil, no vas a entender.
No sé quién te hirió, ni cuánto dolió,
pero mi corazón, también destrozó.

Llevo meses en pena, sin ver claridad,
te sigo queriendo con intensidad.
Lamento ser poca, ser solo un error,
mientras tú te escondes detrás del temor.

Todo se estanca, todo se ahoga,
tus promesas falsas, mi mente sofoca.
Dijiste amarme, lo hiciste creer,
pero fue mentira... y no quiero volver.

Algún día, quizás, estaré mejor,
sin este deseo de perder el control.
Mi pecho se rompe de tanto quererte,
pero amarte... no, eso es perderme.

¿Recuerdas la nota? Aquella verdad,
que llamé amor, sin oportunidad.
No hubo un futuro, no hubo un final,
porque así lo quisiste… no hubo un "quizás".


Hace unos días, tu voz regresó,
pero el tiempo, en mí, todo cambió.
No puedo odiarte, ni guardar rencor,
pero ya no te amo... se marchó el dolor.

Sigo perdida, sin rumbo, sin fe,
mi vida no encuentra razón ni porqué.
Aún me reflejo en lo que eres tú,
y eso es lo triste… me pierdo aún más.

Lo siento, lo digo, lo vuelvo a escribir,
pero esta vez... ya no quiero sufrir.

Después de poco tiempo decidí entender
que no debía pensarte hasta enloquecer.
Busqué el sentido de mi existir
y en este inicio, comienzo a vivir.

Esos meses en pena quedaron atrás,
solo un eco de lo que fue y no será.
Y aunque te extraño, mi pecho es sereno,
pues verte de nuevo… ya no es veneno.

Poco a poco, suelto el rencor,
el dolor, la sombra de tu desamor.
Tus palabras frías ya no me duelen,
ya no me hieren, ya no me pueden.

Sé que aún no he sanado del todo,
pero avanzo firme, aunque sea en el lodo.
Camino despacio, sin desesperación,
poco a poco… hacia mi salvación.
Form: Rhyme

Perdon Si Te Lastime Dios Ya Me Perdono

La conciencia no aguanto el remordimiento
el sufrimiento va consumiéndome Lento
pero se bien que yo me Lo eh ganado
eh pecado y por ti seré castigada 
puedo mentirle a Los demás pero a ti no dios 
se que observas cada paso que doy allá en el cielo
tu que me trajiste a este mundo con un propósito
si te eh fallado créeme que no Lo hago apropósito
gracias por estar cuando te necesito ...dios me escucho y la mano de el tome ...mi espíritu tendrá La Paz y de este mundo oscuro que destruyo mi vida...será liberada...  Ya no tiene sentido pensar en el pasado En lo que hice o lo que pude haber hecho Solo sé que ya caminé un buen trecho y sufrí demasiado lloré por mis errores por mi falta de carácter ... porque no pude salir de mi mundo oscuro que me tenia en esa agonía atormentada vivía todos los días le pedía perdón de corazón y que me diera la paz que tanto necesitaba ..talvez no entiendan y se questionen por que no hice las cosas diferentes nadie puede juzgarme porque no estuvieron en ese mundo que me termino quitando las esperanzas y la fe que día con día Morian lentamente como lo hacía yo .,, yo page por mis errores y pecados y fue un preciso muy alto que añadie le deceo pasar por eso
Aunque no sé cuanto he avanzado
Unos dirán que fui demasiado buena
Otros en cambio me tildarán de mala 
Algunos habrán dicho la verdad
Otros una simple mentira piadosa
Solo Dios sabrá juzgar mi realidad

Unos me habrán querido demasiado
Y no faltarán quienes me hayan odiado
Pues como todo humano soy imperfecta
Y tengo tantas virtudes como defectos
Mas si en este mi largo recorrido
Sin querer a alguien he lastimado
Le pido perdón a Dios arrepentida
Por el daño que hubiera causado
Hoy que llego al final de mi camino
Que mas le puedo pedir al destino
Si tengo el tesoro más precioso
Que la vida generosa me regaló y la dicha de aver sido madre de ese angelito Aaron siempre viviré en tu corazón mientras tu no me olvides.... la dicha de aver tenido ami abuelita y que pronto la voy a ver ,,, la dicha de tener ami tia carina y ami madre hermanos amis tias y tíos ...primas que fueron como hermanas ,, y un tío que fue mi figura paterna Tio  Jorge desde el cielo a todos los cuídare y dios me los cuide y ami angelito se los encargó me voy pero siempre estaré en sus corazones si a si me lo permiten me duele no poder míralos una vez más

The Santa Fe Trail

The Santa Fe Trail

                                       The expanse is awe striking 
                                    Unhampered sun… moon… stars
                                        Wonderful yet frightening
                           The trail is rugged and emotionally magnetic
                                    Where money has no meaning
                                     Until we reach our destination
                         If a wheel spoke breaks in the middle of nowhere
	                               And this is nowhere to me
                                                 We must fix it
                                              The Santa Fe Trail
                                           Is all I ever hear about
                                                  Opportunity
                                                       West
                                             My family and me
                                      The 4 of us and all we own
                         Loaded in a wagon with 2 horses and a spare
                                          I don’t dare turn back
                                        We’re over halfway there
                         With the beckoning of a thousand sunsets
                                       Pointing the way to destiny
                                 Still the uncertainty is intimidating
                                              Thoughts about
                                                   Thieves
                                                Tribal bands
                                              Packs of wolves
                                         The ghosts in my head
                                 With one extra wagon wheel left
                                          And 900 miles to go
                                  I wipe sweat from my forehead
                            Pooled by the band of my trail worn hat
                               A nervous smile toward the children
                      Thinking that one day my journey will be a tale
                               Telling the story of a trip to California
                                       1743 on the Santa Fe Trail

Premium Member The Long Trail

The Long Trail © by Trisha Sugarek

The Circle Heart brand on the wet rump rippled
as the horse shivered with exhaustion
the sun lost its battle with night and 
dropped behind the far peak

Chaparejos, worn thin and soft fit his legs 
like they had grown there
Dusty spurs jangled as he trotted into the sleepy town
A saddle that had seen a thousand miles creaked
and complained as he stepped down
the crown of his hat was stained with sweat
from the hard ride

Reins dangled in the dirt
The horse hung his head, relieved to not
be moving anymore

A drink or two to wash the Santa Fe Trail dust 
from the cowboy’s throat he stepped up onto the boardwalk,
turned and gazed at the town 
and the mountains beyond
the color of old blood as the sun lost its glory

He pulled a cigarillo out, and with one smooth
movement wiped a match on his pants, the tiny
flame igniting
He puffed and blew smoke into the night air
watched the town close up for the night
Across the street a cur scurried around a corner
a merchant keyed his shop closed and 
lit the gas lantern beside his door

The work had been good at the Circle Heart ranch, the grub even better
But the trail was his siren, always calling him, luring him over the next hill, down the next wash, 
up the next canyon

sleeping next to a small camp fire, 
staring at a billion stars
wondering if someone, something out there
was staring back

He wanted to settle but he hadn’t found
the right place
the right woman
the right time

Flicking the smoke into the street, he turned
and entered the saloon, 
honky-tonk piano music played
The doors behind him whispered back and forth

The patrons saw another dusty, tired cowpoke, looking
for a few hours of pleasure
some music, some whiskey, and if he could afford it
the soft arms of a woman

The cowboy saw weak town folk, 
forever saddled to their days
the bit in their mouths dictating their lives
wary of any stranger, their gaze sidling away

Set ‘em up and keep ‘em comin’, the cowboy barked
Show me your coin, the barkeep growled

His days were numbered 
the boys from the Circle Heart ranch would find
him and the horse
They would take their horse and probably string 
him up to the nearest tree


The Bow-Wow Song !

I was ‘ Walking ’ back from grocery shopping
When I saw something, that had me hopping…
… mad, I mean… at what I seen
… a Man treating a Dog, just like a Queen !

They rode past in a top-down car
She had shades on, like a Movie-Star
My bags dropped down, due to shock…
… Now… What She got, that I ain’t got?

… Her big ears blowing in the wind
Now, I know, that’s Man’s Best Friend
But the only reason, I figured, I was Walking
is ‘cause I need a new kind-of-Talking :

Bow-Wow!     Get my  tail to Wagging
Bow-Wow!     Ain’t too Proud for Begging
Bow-Wow!     Learn another kind of Language
Bow-Wow…    … see I can Manage …
Bow-Wow !
I’m slowly Learning How
-	    to Bow-Wow
                    and it’s Alright Now

Now, I knew, something was wrong with that Sight
Can my Bark, be worse than Her Bite?
I started to Listen to the Canine next Door
Yapping and a Howling – made ‘em give Her More…

Then I hung around the Local Pet-Shop
I Finally figured out “What They Got !”
The next Man came, I Said, “They’s Expensive,
You may as well, get yourself a ‘Mrs’…”

                    … Bow-Wow!
  
Bow-Wow!      Get my  tail to Wagging
Bow-Wow!      Ain’t too Proud for Begging
Bow-Wow!      Learn another kind of Language
Bow-Wow…   … see I can Manage
Bow-Wow !
I’m slowly Learning How
	     to Bow-Wow
                     and it’s Alright Now

Well… We were already happily Married, when He said, “Let’s get a Dog”
I sat up straight… went to sniffing, as silent-whistle-warnings, went off
I jumped in front of Him … and started to Tease…
“We don’t need nothing ‘round with Fleas !”

… and if You scratch behind My Ears,
I’ll make the kind of noise, you love  to Hear ! …

Bow-Wow!      Move Over Rover
Bow-Wow!      Fe-Fe, Its Over !
Bow-Wow!      This is My Growler
                     Git’ A Little Louder … Bow – Wow !

                 Bow-Wow… Wuff  Wuff  Wuff

         Carol Brown… This One’s For You Kiddo’
         And Your Great Sense of Humor (Smile)
              This Poem is From Bygone Days
(Wouldn’t You Know… The Silly One’s Always Survive)
                         Hope You Enjoy It….

                                  MoonBee
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A Funny Thing Happened On the Way To My Hanging -Part Deux

Dedicated to a fine poet on soup, Lin Lane
-------------------------------------------------


I shook hands with my brother and bade him farewell
Then set off on my journey away from this hell
Mexico I’d head for and buy a small farm
Meanwhile back in town the guards raised the alarm.

A posse they assembled to help track me down
But saw some Apaches and hightailed it back to town
It was far from over, the Pinkertons were brought in
Determined they were, to carry out the hanging.

After three days riding my horse became lame
It slowed down my escape that made me fair game
Sold my horse at Santa Fe and boarded a train
Vowed I’d never come back to America again.

Two whole years went by and I was living free
Thought they’ve given up now, they’ll never find me
Bought a farm, met a girl, a beautiful senorita 
Had two children both girls, Anna and Conchita.

One day I went to town to buy some supplies
The Pinkertons were there, I couldn’t believe my eyes
They arrested me at gunpoint and they took me to jail
I strongly protested my innocence but to no avail.

Spent a week in the jail while they sorted deportation
Paperwork completed, headed for the railroad station
After a long journey we arrived back in Colorado
They had the noose ready, they were raring to go. 

All over the state the news was all about me
The Pinkertons just loved their new found glory
The night before the hanging I heard guns blazing
What happened after that was truly amazing.

About a hundred desperado's invaded the town
Burst into the jail and told me to lie down
The sound was deafening as they shot at the lock
The Pinkertons stood speechless, they were in shock.

I went out into the street and a voice said to me
“We only found out because of the publicity”
Then out of the shadows came a face I knew well
My twin brother once more had rescued me from hell.

He said “join our gang and we’ll ride far away”
I said “crimes not for me and one day you’ll pay”
Rode back to Mexico to round up my family
Then headed to Brazil where I now live and I’m free.



Lin suggested a part deux so I was inspired to write a sequel, thanks Lin.
Form: Rhyme

Canabils and the Antidote

in the year 2098 on the planet Julephia in the Huilinium Galaxy an element called Pubbius was found, generating interest from all points of the galaxy. While mining pubier,(an alloy used to make rods in spaceships) the miners noticed the greenish blue element, and desided to extract it from it's orginal form, while doing so they realized it to be extrodinary, with the fact that it could be soothed and shaped by hand, without smelting and purifying the metallic element. The two used the soft form of the element and shaped it into a stone, it hardened after the miners hands were removed from the element forming a stone, one mining just thinking he was fashioning a copper wire to use to carry the stone found the discovery of a lifetime, the stone bega to glow, and heated the entire cave, and something else, it caused the radio transponder to act like a communication devise," we could her the voices of people, or creatures worlds away, on morning we heard a familiar voice the voice of the merchant ship's captain that had strained them their years before, also these people could hear them, this frightened some members of this abandoned mining planet, as they hadn't seen friendly faces for nearly two years, and they thought that some of these strange voices could be members of the dreded and feared, Mossingal a speicies of creatures who suppressed their desires to allow there bodies to to return to their prehistoric form, savage creatures who are known as maneaters." when we contacted the ship we told them in a code only someone who has had training in Galaxy mining could understand. We contacted the merchant ship DrapetoMagnus
and hoped that our recue would be made. Days later a ship hovered over the Mining home world, we thought we were saved, it was a ship, a Fe@d$rationship, with the outlaw,*ling*ns aboard. we were doomed!

Captain Koncous of the Doomed mission recovery, on the Mining Planet Julipeia."When the treat of Bifers madness set's in paranoid people will do anything to get what they want, they will consort with the likes of Muginba to achieve what they see as acheivments!" quoted the Captain, of this Doomed Mining planet!
Form: Ekphrasis

Whispers

And this song fell out from my father's lips:
Of boys learning to drop the corpse of their
parents' bodies on the high mountain of Jos, 
Of  girls who came home learning to place fingers 
on the holes that evil men dug; 
Of children learning to empty themselves
With lies & truths about what happened now,
 about what happened in Benue and pleateu,
Of those stories that escaped through our 
mother's nostrils as she became past tense. 

And this wants to make you leave your body
to a place where lost is freedom to enjoy. 
yesterday When teeth fell from our mouth, 
We threw them to the zinc for tomorrow.
We never knew they became dancers in
 a battle field, making glittering white war. 
We wired our way into abstract destructions
We bottled our knowledge to the river bank. 
I am not alone in this nightmare of want
When my country men became object of
ridicule, I was never among them to core. 
treasure this thawn into dirge of goodness.


Help me knit this morning with a song, 
trace Adkins into Wooten of silence
We archived our routes to another smothering 
Snow in red places before dawn. 
Help me gather the laughters of those girls
Help me tell mother that sin is not a reproach
Tell father that Satan was an angel of light
Not a mystical mysteries as told by all. 
If Allah allows the vehicles of my thought 
To decamp from the camp of Moses.

When you get to Lagos, don't allow a bus to
carry you pass those graveyard called bridge.
a trailer fell from one of them at Ojuelegba
and another one fell in Ibadan without the express.
  There we saw a boy' tale told in
Fe-Buhari in pains & gory and eel mystery.
He carried a song on his shoulder to crying
Forgetting there on the express way has his father's last prayer points & footprints...
There he died also hoping to pick his 
father's dust groaning without a comforter. 

I whispered these words in secret
Tell nobody that somebody told you the body 
of the storyline before the climax erupted. 
Till everything becomes breeze, I am not 
still a poet but a messenger of the gods.


©John Chizoba Vincent 
The_Boy_Hero

Words Spelled Correct Versus Phonetic Spelling First the Former

W?rdz sp?ld k?'r?kt 'v?rs?s f?'n?t?k'sp?l??

alternately titled fun with phonics
'?lt?rn?tli 'ta?t?ld f?n w?ð 'f?n?ks
analogous when like first learning how to spell American English words

?'næl?g?s w?n la?k f?rst 'l?rn?? ha? tu sp?l ?'m?r?k?n '??gl?? w?rdz

I thought to feign not knowing how to spell American English words

A? ??t tu fe?n n?t 'no??? ha? tu sp?l ?'m?r?k?n '??gl?? w?rdz

and quickly realized the daunting task,

Ænd 'kw?kli 'ri??la?zd ð? 'd?nt?? tæsk,

thus sought magnanimity, gratuity, courtesy...
Google search (phonetic transcription of words) to assist me

Ð?s s?t magnanimity, gr?'tu?ti, 'k?rt?si..
'gug?l s?r? (f?'n?t?k ?træn'skr?p??n ?v w?rdz) tu ?'s?st mi

Words spelled correct versus phonetic spelling
(the latter appended after poem concludes).

Thus now begins feeble attempt
to render rhyme for no reason
appended with phonetic translation
mainly as playful tease zen
synonymous imagining teaching
said exercise to eager children

reminding readers that young
and restless with spotty attention
hear spoken word while in utero,
post natal, subsequently when

he/she parrots parent(s) and/or
guardian, a more deliberate yen
arises to acquire greater cognition,
intuition, question (quest ja hen)
quickly devolving into faux ken
barbed riotous laughter analogous
trying wits of patient comedian/

comedienne resorting quite often
to repetition, remonstration,
reiteration... which frustration
might necessitate taking ten,
or so minutes of intermission
mindful mentor praises pen

ultimate verbal adroit ability
earning healthy treat for recitation,
perhaps recipient exceptionally
eager to advance passing golden
milestone able, ready, and will len
to tackle writing correct spelling,

whence learning to hold pen(cil)
(without being vain) begin men
till process, which next step den
allows, enables and provides sen
sit heave hands on guidance

helping preschooler - all liven
and well with enthusiasm clutch
writing implement fingers open
before gently grasping above ren
during kudos with an amen.

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