Long Feel Poems
Long Feel Poems. Below are the most popular long Feel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Feel poems by poem length and keyword.
Don't wish you knew better, just do better now. Regret is a disease. Disease is a noun. Meaning to have a disorder of structure or function in a human, oh wow.
I've somehow allowed this to consume my time and take away from my healing by moving forward; Eliminating the possibility of me being "just fine". I feel like I am on this emotional carousel most of the time. When I suddenly start to feel inner peace, my guilt creeps up from behind. It often feels like I won't get through this up and down ride.
I quickly remember I do have a choice, I don't have to wait in that line. I don't need to focus on the feeling of remorse. I have to remember these emotions are just obstacles I need to overcome in my life's course. So just understand everyone has their emotional horse. Just learn to tame the wild outbursts that start from within.
Don't wait in lines that make your heart feel like your life has to somehow be defined by the emotions you have within. Feel what you need to, and then let it go. Simply let bygones be just that, and freely your movements should flow.
Our grandson wanted to learn about fishing…so on a sunny day in July
with a pole he found in the back of a closet we thought we’d give it a try.
With shrimp for bait and his dad, his Nana and me to cheer
we drove down to our marina and walked out on the pier.
We baited his hook, he cast it out…and with the ocean breeze acting like a fan
he was poised to catch his fish…but the fish had other plans.
They must have known he was a rookie…they certainly knew the routine
because they kept feasting on the shrimp and his hook kept coming back clean.
Eventually, with a little luck, he was able to land his fish!
We all cheered and took his picture at the fulfilling of his wish.
As we basked in his wonderful moment…and to the water the fish returned
I thought of all the lessons, from fishing, that can be learned…
Like how if you want to reach a target…
accomplish a goal you have set
sometimes you’re going to get your hands dirty
sometimes you’re going to get a little wet.
Like how you might realize along the way
you’re not as smart as all the fishes…
But if you prepare yourself and have the patience
you can still fulfill your wishes.
Like how you won’t win every battle
but never to feel dejected or distressed
because when you do win,
when you catch that fish
you will relish in your success.
Finally, and perhaps most important, when your surrounded by family
you learn how wonderful, how awesome…how beautiful life can be.
How any moment with family can be inspiring and exciting
Like standing together on a pier
even when the fish aren’t biting.
My bladder behaves through the night
Each morning my flow is just right....
But throughout the day
There is hell to pay
It's bursting; I cross my legs tight
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
Ladies and gentlemen please feel free to join in, send me your limericks by soup mail or in your comment as I will add them to the poem
In order to keep all my friends
I refrain from doing the bends
No trips to the loo
I hold in my poo
And strap on a pair of depends!
WRITTEN BY T S POETRY
10/10/19
Super Girl she had buns of steel
Clark wanted to make them a meal
He played them like a flute
Until she let out a toot
Then he couldn’t seal the deal!
Written by Richard Lamoureux
Half an hour since her last patter-pitter,
and she’s facing the next bladder-splitter.
If she runs or she leaps,
something critical seeps,
and you’d better stand back if she titters.
Written by Nina Parmenter
While driving I often need to pee
When bathrooms are miles away from me
I step harder on the gas
hoping my urge will soon pass
While speeding towards the nearest tree
When out golfing and ready to tee
I sometimes feel a strong urge to pee
with no bathrooms near by
I throw my golf club high
while I run to find the nearest tree
written by Tania Kitchin
From dawn till two I’m on that loo
Black lace ‘n silk won’t see me through
Need porous panties
Huge knicks; no scanties
In need of help ~ what should I do?
Written by Ann Gilmor
When I go out I hate to drink too much
Because I'll have to go potty and such
On a day I don't care,
It's plastic underwear
Lace with thick liner, to catch water rush
Written By Alexis Y
Staring out of a flapping tent door,
sunset is hidden behind the hills.
Cuddled up in a flimsy sleeping bag,
I dream of a warm bed.
Morning breaks- craving hot tea,
watching my breath mist up
in the mute cold of dawn,
longing for the whistle of a kettle.
Home is more than mattresses and pillows
but a haven,
where regardless of how wrecked we are,
the door will always be open.
Home is where we feel safe.
Some spend lifetimes searching
Some walk away without a glance.
Others sleep under a makeshift roof
falling asleep to the sound of dripping water.
Many wish they had one,
Somewhere to be themselves ...
“Chasing Ghosts in Cars”
Like automata
we walk inside
winding up the stairs
it’s all mechanical
the romance
programmed
by steep degrees
in the
well-routined
we can walk
through walls
anywhere
to look out
our windows
towards the better view
each cell in the body
and mind renewed
we expurgate
the misplaced
misconceptions
of others, of ourselves
it’s fair-weather sailing
out there,
the transparent come and go
best to turn
a blind eye
a swift kiss on the cheek
make it brief
then close all
your doors
to their artful dodger hauntings
friendships and felicitations
their joyful gleaming commiserations
whole oceans
full of souls
walking and swimming
treading water
all the floating
poesies planted
mindfully fragrant
fresh bits thrown
parlayed introspection
deliciously blooded with the sharks
such hungry poets
with a well-adjusted
deep knowing
and a quiet
unthorough
understanding
of another
unknown equation
in the real world
never making
premature
judgements
outside is a risk
we all take
we write what we know
we know what we write
ghost written
in the Daily Phantom
in the gloaming fantasy
there still exist
real ghouls calling us in
hungry for kindness
burying pity for
the honesty it lacks
inside we are listing
the volume we turn up
to hear messages better
we are
listening
to cars
lyrics
we wish you
to know
to be understood
when you are
chasing ghosts
some say
they’ve gone too far
they’re too far gone away
forget-me-knots
hanging loose
chasing ghosts in cars
Machiavellians
gone astray
the naked minds
of
undressed nuns
and
sanctimonious preachers
oiling their guns
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live in cars
Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days in cars”
listing/nautical.
“Listing” is a nautical term to describe when a vessel takes on water and tilts to one side. A ship can list either to port (left) or starboard (right). By contrast, a ship is said to be “trimming” when she tips forward or backward.
Tonight the stars shine in a way that is devastating
Because they are the cursor blinking steady on my screen
The inky background the cursed shine lays upon
Steals the very words from my fingertips
This act of thievery expands full throttle
Searching
Down
Down
Down
I choke on a vine of thorns trailing my vocal chords
As I feel my words vanish from my throat
My tongue is still tangled from the last robbery
When the vibrations fell flat off the percussion in my ear
I don't think my thief realises it was an offering for them
I hope the Universe deems this a good offering
And I hope the Sky does not target your brilliance next
Do you even bother to wonder anymore,
When you look at the news,
Or do you just chuckle to yourself,
About the gullibility of some.
Have you stopped asking yourself,
Now you know getting the answer,
Could take years,
And lots of tears.
With the answer not making one iota of difference,
Except that your card could now be marked.
Is it ethical for headlines to be attention grabbers only,
That can produce violent reactions,
Unintended consequences,
And Totally misrepresent the article it is steering one to.
Should the headline writers be given a crash course in human nature,
With many only reading the headlines
Looking at the pretty gruesome pictures,
And ditching the story they are supposedly promoting.
Wouldn't it be cheaper to just print the headlines. It would save a lot of paper, And we could use the wood to build more houses.
With kickbacks more numerous than goals kicked in a season, when the caption - watch this - is placed only above certain articles do you even wonder if people pay to have that above their article.
Is it ethical. By today's standards probably. By yesterday's standards no.
But if you are still asking yourself questions, ask yourself this.
Are misleading headlines dangerous and do they bring out emotions better left in check. And is there evidence of violent reactions to headlines that spark controversy and should those responsible for them be aware of the unintended consequences.
My one consolation here is,
That poets have more depth of character,
And can read between the lines,
As well as the lines themselves,
Can feel the balance in anything written,
And don't believe that many pretty pictures can paint a thousand words.
I always felt empty and as nothing before.
I always filled my heart with reasons to abhor.
I taught myself hate, nothing less nor more.
I knew less about love, therefore,
I’d spend days downpouring tears laying on the floor,
Starring at the roof till my eyes would become sore.
I’d listen to the melody of knocks at my door.
My brain knew nothing besides being hardcore.
My eyes, my heart, my brain, all these four,
were filled with hate like they were getting paid for
Till you came knocking at my door
And now I spend more time at the bookstore,
as I no longer feel empty anymore.
Funny how you help me overcome my pride.
I’ve become addicted to how we have allied,
how you hold my hand when I’m terrified,
how you have taught me to subside,
how I tend to feel free when you are by my side.
Hence, to you, I now confide.
You’re like the star when I’m in my darkest spot.
Yet you’re my darkest spot when the sun’s too hot.
You managed to fill my heart with love instead of fraught.
With you I have won a jackpot.
Hence when I am alone, I refer to you as a hotshot.
I know I am reckless but with you I did forethought.
So please try to understand where I come from
Please love me when I am angry and when I’m calm.
Try not to be the cause of my sadness,
If not, you’ll be pushing me back to cold-heartedness.
Unlike my brain,
My heart will never be happy to be there again,
Because of the previous pain.
Why does love dissipate and circle into greed?
An ugly foundation that has planted its seed.
Where all good deeds go unseen.
Emotions we hate to feel start to seep in.
But Seriously......
Why do we shut out what we so often need?
Leaving us stranded, with our hearts to bleed.
Feeding off this negativity, makes wounds hard to heal.
But Seriously, too many emotions make it hard to feel.
Knowing feelings are temporary,
Forever fleeting, rarely do they last.
As with the hands of time,
It continues to move forward all too fast!
But Seriously......
It Changes; like the seasons. Nothing stays the same.
But Seriously......
Love has its reasons for which reason knows not its name.
When of the world of doctors,I am sick.
When diagnosis is not any aid
When from the choices given, I cannot pick
Although I feel my deepest debts were paid.
Then off from thinking I must take my mind
To gaze upon the beauty of the woods
And feel the sun not fiery, even kind.
It warms and heartens even my cold blood.
The trees are calm for they have grown deep roots
Though storms may strike their trunks and branches too
breaking off new tender green tipped shoots
They sway and take it without much to do.
Strength needs flexibility and give;
With no such, the brittle shall not live