Long Feed Poems

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


Premium Member Workshop Poem - Family Ties

Family Ties
By Franklin Price
5/10/2015

Family ties are always there
Throughout our lives for whom we care
Expanding as our journeys change
These family ties will rearrange

As a baby mom and dad
Initially were all we had
Maybe siblings to make a  fuss
To feed and change our pants for us

Soon came friends not in the house
With some good fortune loving spouse
New family to call our own
And family ties have further grown

Our chosen one new family
The old one still exists to see
A balance make between the two
Both are dear the old and new

If fortune smiles with loving face
And life goes with predicted pace
A child or more are added in
And family ties expand again

As time goes by and we grow old
To grandchildren our tales are told
Knots tightened then for future kin
Where we leave off they will begin

Tie knots square and make them strong
Make children feel that they belong
And when we've left this world behind
There will be family ties that bind


Family Ties – take 2
By Franklin Price
5/10/2015

Family ties are always there
throughout our lives for whom we care.
Expanding as our journeys change,
family ties will rearrange

As a child our moms and dads
initially were all we had.
Older siblings made a  fuss
and even changed our pants for us.

Soon came friends not in the house,
with some good fortune,  a loving spouse,
new family to call our own
and family ties had further grown.

Chosen ones new family.
The old ones still there to see.
A balance made between the two,
both were dear the old and new.

If fortune smiled with loving face
and life went with predicted pace,
a child or more were added in
and family ties grew once again.

Grandchildren arrived as we grew old.
They're bored with us as tales are told.
Yet will tell the tales to future kin,
our tales passed on, theirs will begin

Tie knots square and make them strong,
Make children feel that they belong
And when we've left this world behind
There will be family ties that bind
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Seven Ate Nine

What's up miss popular? People know about your greed
Ya, got the text. The "Hey, dotard, don't talk to me freak,"
The average joe, and those silly electronics"
Please, Click Itch, labeling others as the smelly geek
So many countless hours cushioning in luxury
Preparing to feed your lust, her dinner platter                         
Feasting on periodic table and splitting bonding
Then misguided paparazzi ask what’s the matter?
Dr. Gluttony's remedy, a coke and Mentos
Pridefully smiling as other families shatter
Expecting everyone’s contributions to the plate
Because, you are the modern-day narcissistic (*sore)
The search engines have endless pages on the topic
Upon your illusion throne, craving and wanting more   
Deep down in the shadows, harbors your anger and wrath
Enviously fishing for a fresh party's primate
Yep, Scarlett, Megan and Kelly all have perfect cups
But don’t worry, over time your bim-bims will deflate
Sorry, Brittany and Jen both have the perfect butt
Though your horoscope says, “glutes are going to inflate”
Ma'am Trash Troll, you have not the cash flow of Uncle Sam
What A disgusting branded pathetic child you are 
Your future will be a shabby truck driver's pit stop
Slothfully dreaming of becoming a super star


*Word changed 

Updated 5/14/219 

-Urban Dictionary-
1.Click Itch  -  An everlasting feeling of need to start clicking, usually on social sites such as Facebook, Instagram, Google, Pinterest, etc.
2.Dotard - An aging individual who has long lost the ability to make rational sense.
3.Cushioning   -  A dating technique where along with your main piece you also have several 'cushions', other people you'll chat and flirt with to cushion the potential blow of your main break-up and not leave you alone.
© G. Jay  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

The Story of Edward

Edward was a boy,
Who lived in London.
He was not so well to do,
On him was many a burden.

His father; a priest he was,
Managed to feed the boy.
Albeit his lowly wages,
He lived in peace and joy.

Edward had his father 
Who meant all to him,
But his small world shattered
With no happiness within.

With his father gone 
Edward was terrified.
There was no one who would take him in,
No one whom he loved.

So he left his small home
Which he would surely miss,
To find the love he had lost
In a cruel world like this.

Nobody noticed the boy
Wandering the streets alone.
Without anybody by his side
He was so forlorn.

He lived like a tramp;
Walking miles and miles barefoot.
Hungry and tired to death
Covered in dirt and soot.

With his feet bleeding
 And sun-burnt skin,
He fainted on doorstep
Of a little inn

Waking up
He found himself lying on a bed,
With a lady by his side
Stroking his forehead.

Looking at young Edward with loving eyes
She said,"There, there,you surely need some rest"
She loved and cared a lot 
For this sweet little guest.

He smiled back at her
And merrily he thought; 
Life isn't so bad: 
At last he had found what he eagerly sought.
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Valley of Dead Souls

The Valley of dead Souls

Jewel encrusted guardians of stone stand before the gates to the abyss of eternity. Above engraved in gilded stone inlaid with silver and gold are the words. Dearth of light and filled with gloom for all that enter seal their doom. 

With deaths sweet kiss of nights never-ending silence to comfort them as they walk. Fires burn and give no warmth unto the abysmal souls that travel the path into the void. Pail from life drained drifting through eternity without regret for days long past. These lost souls march on in their misery, no sunrise to inspire the eyes or sunset to charm the soul. Only pain to burden the flesh and dark sorrow to tire the spirit, as the fires of hell light the path. 

This is the fate of souls devoid of a moral compass to guide them through life. Their sins guide them to the gates like a moth to a flame in the dark. In the wake of blood filled rivers of despair, innocent children cry tears of anguish upon the waters. Purity defiled by lust and greed feed the gluttony of their desires. Passion and love lost to indifference and hatred by the mindless desire to dominate the destitute and subjugated them to servitude. 

All is lost to those that choose to walk this path to oblivion. None shall truly know the futility of wealth and power until they trudge this path of oblivion. 

By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison

The Bees Knees

The Bees Knees

She was the buzz between the feathery blossom
The flutter midst buds and petals in cloak of fur
Rapturously delving the gene laden pollen
To trap the powdery wonder upon her hairy legs
And transfer to elsewhere blooms of Summer
Reveling in its dizzying smells and peaceful hue
Nectar sated in this golden seasonal time 
She must return to face the chores and feed her chums
To sweep and clean and oust the dead
Create a pristine nursery for the queen
And build a perfect wax work cell
Where stored supplies of hand maiden honey
And jelly that feeds the nest, creates a queen
Her days are short and action packed
And cannot remain when her energy’s spent
She flees her lair in one final fixed resolve
Relieves the hive from her expended body
To soar the heights and taste the dregs of summer days
And grasp the hazy blooms from better days
Relive their perfumed air and colored leaves
In one final blend of oblivion
                    



























Oh Despair, Despair (to tune ke sera)

When I had grown and reached an age
I did a job expected of me
Would I be rich and earn a good wage
This is what I would be

I became a nurse
Not much in my little purse
The teaching was hard as well
Couldn’t wait for the bell
Didn’t feel that well

If I had had my life again 
I might have been a car engineer
Do my own service, fix an old van
Save me a bob or three

Oh the car repair
Can be for the women too
With grease and grime in their hair
See the motor improved
Get the car on the move

Now that I am all grown up
no mum to tell me what I should do
I continue as very hard up
That’s no surprise at all

Oh the nurse’s job 
The teacher’s as well you see
The money is not a lot
That’s the end of the jot
That’s the lot, the lot.


Premium Member Sea Glass Kiss


Climbing fragile skies, with honesty clinging to the wind,
Reflecting the gentle in the spirit, who remembers to yield to the graceful sea,
Hesitating against a shore of gratitude, delicate reef
Stumbling in rhythms, June through December….

Revealing the music that abides in the tides, swelling the heart,
Trembling against the aching sand, weathering the stars,
Coloring smiles in grace that remembers, calming every scent
With salty memories, glowing like the gentle that comes to those who see her truths staring back, from cerulean songs, on the edges of listening,
Revelations poured out like victories, Seas of silence, sighing through the star studded nights, moonlight shimmering, plunging through the darkness,
Remembering the new soon flows from the thoughts,
Who slide from the clouds, tangerine symbols, Soaring so the spirit feels its warmth, its healing linking the sea to the sky and restoring the seeds of a life,
Who decides, the remedy, sea glass joys, purposeful and knowing, the sun’s overflowing, stirring awake the fires, silhouettes of beautiful, peace
Like mists, absorbed by the backdrop of light, sensing the depth of need, the greed, the seed, restoring all that sunlight will feed with sea glass dreams,
Relief, found in the center of a morning’s breath,
Aching to be fed the glorious presence of God’s rest, pacific kiss!

No Respite

No Respite

No respite for one who comes as broken as I am 
Quietly contrite I passively question the morality of man 
Without delight I mention that it’s possible to take a stand
It’s close to midnight in this retention of knowledge that I must understand 

Imitations of insight upon a doom scroll feed 
Insinuations that are so light they are starting to demean the need
Continuations that were once so bright they outshine the rich man’s greed
Permeatations of respite that teach you to pay good heed 

Collaborations of misinterpretations that express myopic predispositions 
Configurations of conversations that come about through premonitions 
Considerations of constellations that create a cosmic vision 
Coagulations of ruminations that require surgical incisions 

Remonstrations of argumentative consumerist logic and belief
Demonstrations of competitive ludicrous mischief 
Elevations of repetitive mutinous displays that make you consult the chief 
Degradations of contemplative luminous thoughts compelled by grief 

Indignation of insubordination that burns just like a scalpel 
Abdication of misinterpretation that takes you back to the chapel 
Escalations of captivations that burn the Tower of Babel 
Desperation of aspiration that only wants to come across as stable 

Outrageously aggrieved by the injustice of the systems broken administration 
Courageously deceived by the 
Latest over saturated celebration 
Contagiously conceived by a mind that deals in annexations 
Rampageously received by this global age of constant misinformation 

The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Unconditional Love Letter To My Children

From generation to generation
Times have changed so much
By leaps and bounds
Back when technology did not exist
I grew up in a family of 13 kids
Survival was the game of life
Working hard day and night
Trying to make a better life
Nothing was easy
You just did your best
And hoped to reap some reward

Since I tried to live my life
Like an open book
I thought you’d understand
I helped raise six hungry kids
Fed them, sent them to school
And gave them their wings

Six impressionable little minds
Had I known my words would mean so much
All I knew was you needed to be tough
To be ready to face life
So I taught you what I learned
Convinced all you needed were the basics 
And you would find your way

I didn’t think I’d be doing you any favours 
By painting rosy pictures and
I wouldn’t have known how
My models were two hard working parents 
Whose fulltime job was to feed and clothe 13 kids
Barely making ends meet
No time for dreams, barely time for sleep
Too exhausted to even keep up
With the treadmill of daily living

Like baby birds I sent you off from the nest
To stretch your new wings and fly on your own
Find your way and do better than me if you could

I didn’t think I was remiss I gave it my all
Careful not to lose myself in the process
Teeter tottering to maintain balance
Keeping that all important flame alive within
So one day I could be free again to be me 

I wish I had told you more often
That I love you and I’m proud of you
I thought my actions would speak louder than words

We each have our journey to live and learn from
I am watching over you from above

Better late than never
I want to tell you today that I love you
And I hope you have a fulfilling life
Until we meet again 
Dad xx



version published in photo/poetry book ~UNCONDITIONAL LOVE LETTER TO MY CHILDREN~ 2020 / photos by TIMOTHY McGUIRE

AP: 1st place 2025, 3rd place 2021

PS featured in 2025

Premium Member My Body Is Your Blank Canvas

i want you to know,

my body is your blank canvas 
paint me with the manicured strokes of your brush,
bathe me in the lipstick red of your infinite touch 
exfoliate my highly charged tactile robe of flesh

hold me!

my mind is your barren field to seed,
fertilize my soil with your green thumb
water my crop deep to my roots
let my stalk grow tall and strong

feed me!

my spirit is your glass to shape,
heat my crystal under a hot blue flame 
melt me down to blend into you as one
blow us under the fire a goblet for one
drink until we stagger sweet, drunk in lust

 consume me!

man and his dog

Man and his dog

He awoke under the bed, and it had been his birthday
drinking champagne, eating Danish pastry, and smoking Havana cigars
He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out
a beer, which he thirstily drank while wondering why
Everything was so quiet
The maid had been in when he slept, and everything was in order
When did the guests leave, or had he partied with his teddy bear
Being lonely since his dog died
Looking out of the window, he saw many cars, and they had
No drivers and some had open doors as if abandoned in haste,
But what had happened?
In a bakery/café, he had a sandwich of cheese and tomatoes,
He made it himself since the lady who owned it
The café was not there.
It dawned on him that he was alone in the world, everything
He didn't need to share his good fortune with anyone,
Except for the cur outside that ran away and barked when seeing him
He tried the Rolls-Royce that belonged to the mayor
Yes, the ride was smooth, distracted by thoughts, he hit a lamp-post,
But never mind, there were other cars around
At an expensive restaurant where he once had dined,
He made and made himself a hamburger with hot fries
drunk on the most expensive red wine possible.
The dog that had growled at him looked at him through the window,
wagging tail, it knew he was the only one left to feed it
Months went by, and the window, his life, was getting a bit onerous,
just him and the dog following him around, getting fat from his overfeeding.
He stopped shaving, showering, and wearing the same pants
Since the day was endless anyway, why bother with personal hygiene
When there was no pressure to conform
Deeply depressed, he jumped from the top floor of
a tall building to end it all.
No such luck! He descended, slowly broke down, and cried freely
as the dog was the only witness to his sadness
Doomed to live forever, he lay down under the bed
But before falling into Nirvana's arms, he got up again
Someone had to feed the dog.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: ABC

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