Long Felt Poems
Long Felt Poems. Below are the most popular long Felt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Felt poems by poem length and keyword.
(This is a fictional poem)
I modified my ham radio and it started picking up transmissions from outer
space.
I heard aliens say that they were sending a fleet to enslave the human race.
I tried and tried to warn people but all they did was laugh.
Every person on Earth soon felt these aliens wrath.
They arrived and they enslaved everyone soon after.
Now there's no joy allowed in the world and no laughter.
Obeying these alien dictators is the only purpose that we serve.
I wish all of these alien scumbags would die like they deserve.
They have only one eye and they're large and green.
They have razor sharp claws and teeth and they really are mean.
The people didn't have enough time to defend the Earth because they didn't
listen to me.
If they would've listened, the human race might be free.
Form:
...With that he kicked his horse in the flanks
and charged towards Thompson and the men,
not expecting it, two of them went down
before they realized he was no longer Friend.
Now it was just Thompson and Stomping Bird
who returned fire as he charged their way.
He felt two bullets hit, but he did not fall,
he bulled his tired horse into the fray!
Stomping Bird appeared suddenly in front of him,
anders fired at him without respite,
their horses collided and he was thrown clear,
then landed hard upon his right side.
Bleeding from wounds, his ribs broken,
he turned over and saw Black Thompson
seated on his horse, wounded in one arm,
but in the other held his Smith & Wesson.
“Damn fool I was to ever trust a mad man,”
the thug snarled as he gazed on down.
“You shoot up my men, and for that act
I’m leaving your body to rot on this ground!”
Anders just smiled at his former partner,
said,”Go ahead and use that big gun.
Better I die the man I once was,
then live as the monster I’ve become.”
Thompson took aim, Anders jolted his wrist,
sliding out a two-barrel Derringer,
gunshots rang out across the prairie,
an echoing report of their fire.
Thompson slumped low, pitched off his mount,
two slugs gone straight through his head,
Anders struggled hard to catch his breath,
his chest home to a new piece of lead.
His vision was fading, but he swore he saw,
standing a short way away in the grass,
his dear sweet Rosa, smiling so gently...
he could feel the pain started to pass.
He closed his eyes, felt her gentle touch,
and felt no fear that moment because
for all of his sins he’d meet his maker
having died as the man he once was.
Watching the Olympics news
coverage today
Sadly this is the conclusion
i came to afterwards
Our British male duo won gold
in the synchronized diving event
Brilliant yes of course an
unbelievable achievent
But given more than any other
sport the clue being in the name
It should be equal appreciation
and praise for each as without
the other winning is simply
an impossibility
So how come then i know who
Tom Daley is but don't even know
his diving partner's name
Maybe that's because he was
made to appear or seem
totally irrelevant by the media
news coverage
After the pair won they cut to
Tom Daleys family his mother
husband and their baby
Then we see Tom being
interviewed , Tom singular
on his own fielding questions
mostly regarding his personal
life and sexual preference
And thanking the LGBT
community for all there support
Exactly what that has to do
with diving i hold my hands
up i do not know admittedly
i am no expert on the subject
But personally for me what
i found was the real kick in
the teeth smack in the face
As i for 1 absolutely love and
breathe sport the gift the ability
the dedication the sacrifice
Was how it was constantly
infered it was only Tom's
dream since he was a young
child to win a gold medal
Again personally and only
to me what i seen goes against
the very ethos and ideology
of what the Olympics itself
stands for
I felt so sorry for him and his
family as Tom family husband
and child got more coverage
than he did
I tried to put myself
in his or his family shoes
and tried to wonder
How they must have felt having
their joy pride stolen and cheated
from them
Reduced merely to a bit part
or side show to the main event
And again i protest because
the clue is in the name
Synchronized Diving a duo
a pair a partnership a team
1 simply can not without
the aid of the other 1 win
So tell me where on earth
is the justice and sportsmanship
to be found here
And his name by the way
just incase you missed it
or care is
Matty Lee and he to also
wanted to be and win a
gold medal
And was just as dedicated
and trained just as hard in
order to achieve and make both
theirs dream a reality
Rather than as the press and
media barely refer to him as
Tom Daleys diving partner
or the other guy
While in the moonlit night he stood, his crew below asleep,
the captain gazed with knowing eyes upon the ocean deep.
A sinister tranquility was fleeing in the path
of moaning wind grown resolute in showing forth its wrath.
The moon, a pale pearl paradox, stared calmly down at him.
Then angry clouds obscured its face and everything was dim.
Behind the captain’s knowing eyes, his thoughts had grown astray.
They took him to another place where once he used to play.
He stood among the acres of unmoving solid ground,
where waves became tall stalks of grain the wind blew all around.
The first of many undulations crashed onto the ship.
He pictured rippling golden wheat and felt his vessel dip.
The men, awakened, clamored now. He prayed their deaths be swift
and gripped the wheel to navigate a ghastly forceful lift.
Imagining hot prairie sun, he viewed the huge cold swell
that came to bury them. . . and closed those eyes that knew too well.
Written years before it was posted here at Soup on 6/6/2010
Submitted 8/26/2022
for Mark Toney's 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 13 Poetry Contest
All I remember is rampant rain and a loud bang.
As dawn distilled through a canopy of palm trees,
glimpses of light reflected like emeralds on leaves.
I felt blessed in its warm golden glow,
as I awoke under clear sapphire skies.
Radiant sun blazed brightly,
reflecting like a fluorescent mosaic
upon turquoise waves kissing my bare feet.
I could hear cobalt macaws squawking
and soaring from cliffs to branches,
as the ocean lulled with a soft lullaby.
The air was so pure, but muggy,
as curious creatures, I had not seen before,
creeped and crawled around me.
As I wandered along a champagne shoreline,
I could hear an orchestra of morning birds,
composing their exotic melodies,
which added to the tranquillity of calmness.
Footsteps of fate led to a verdant forest with
an abundance of mahogany and rosewood trees.
A fluctuation of kaleidoscopic butterflies floated
among a plethora of petals in lush layers of
amber allamandas, maroon mandevillas,
orange orchids and purple passionflowers -
their sweet scents blending with saltiness of the sea breeze.
As my soul connected deeply with my surroundings,
a leafy path of twigs led to a myriad of mangroves,
their roots resting in an aquamarine toned lagoon.
I could see fancy fish in vibrant red, yellow and silver,
swimming in trails of troops around water lilies.
As my enchanted eyes gazed beyond a
flock of fuchsia feathered flamingos,
towards a gentle waterfall cascading,
serenely over steps of rock -
I caught a glimpse of a figure in divine light.
Dressed in ivory and gold,
reflecting in the image of Aphrodite.
Her bronze skin shimmered in the sunlight,
as her flaxen fair hair flickered in a gentle zephyr.
Such was the epitome of her grace, I was mesmerised.
I could have admired her brown pearl eyes, forever.
Unaware the endless blue horizons were
now dipped in velvet and honey hues,
I forgot about the diamonds in the sky.
The moon glowed like a ruby at midnight,
shining scarlet moonlight upon her lips -
my whole being craved for just one kiss.
Before I could approach her,
I opened my eyes in an unfamiliar room,
as a nurse in a white uniform asked me;
"welcome back, are you all right?"
Conversation with older folks always
Makes us think about
How complex we are
When asked 80 to 90 percent of older people
How are they doing?
Most replies are the same
“Child I am just waiting.
Waiting!
For what
To meet my maker”
From the time we were born
Plans were made for us
About our life
What are you going to be?
When we grow up
And soon has one become an adult
Our thoughts about dying
Frighten us
You are born then you die
Life might be simple for some
However, it a race to
get over unfairness of life
I met my third grade teacher last year
The first thing she said to me
“Did you follow your dreams?
A moment in an instant world
I felt like she were in control
^
She is much older now
However, nothing has change
We born, then we die
No matter how hard we try
The ropes never seem to loosen
Jill lives in a town with a mill,
She loves wearing clothes with no frill,
Though she doesn't mind them made of twill,
She cooks her foods using a grill.
She often climbs high on the hill,
To fetch fresh water with a thrill.
Today, she felt both tired and ill,
Filling the drum, she must fulfill.
So, her mum made her go fetch still.
Jill couldn’t climb despite her skill.
She felt worse in the windy chill,
And fell, spilling the bucket fill.
The valley echoed loud her shrill,
Her fall was stopped by an anthill.
Now her mum'd pay the clinic bill,
Though doing so is not her will.
Why not fetch from a nearby rill?
Now she's stuck taking a strong pill,
Just God knows when she'll take it till,
For that steep fall was a near-kill
28th October, 2024.
Updated on: 28th January, 2025.
Contest: Jill Nursery Rhyme
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Contest Judged: November 18th, 2024 1:26:00 AM
Placement: Third
There was a time across this land…with every flower in bloom
When the Earth was witness to their blended beauty…and inhaled their sweep perfume.
Stretching across her land and seas…to every distant isle…
In her contentment, all the Earth could do…was look around…and smile.
There was a time across this land…not so long ago
When the earth would watch as every flower helped every other flower grow.
And seeing so much selfless giving…so much reciprocity…
The Earth felt only joy…only happiness and glee.
Until one day the Earth noticed some flowers were distressed…
As other flowers thought themselves more beautiful…and more important than the rest.
Watching how some of her flowers would belittle…and put other flowers down…
The smile the Earth had worn for a thousand years…turned into a frown.
For the Earth knew once flowers begin to think that way…once that line is crossed
The garden she planted is not the same garden…it’s beauty…has been lost.
The Earth will continue to provide sun and rain for her flowers
it is her nature to keep trying…
but, as she watches her flowers at war with one another…she cannot stop her crying.
But the Earth is an eternal optimist…
she knows for her to return to joy and happiness and glee
The flowers must return to a life of selfless giving and reciprocity…
For the Earth knows a secret…she’s carried since to the flowers she gave birth….
Unless the flowers work and blend together…there will be no flowers left on Earth.
It didn't matter that you cried blood, like dew on the brow of a forgotten world,
it didn't matter that you cried tears, like hidden springs in the mountain,
it didn't matter that you loved too much, like a sun illuminating the earth,
it didn't matter that you loved with all your heart, like a tree stretching its branches,
it didn't matter that you still lived, walking the paths of time with shadowy steps,
it didn't matter that you lived despite fear, like a butterfly defying the storm,
it didn't matter, the clock kept ticking, like a craftsman following his work,
the wheel kept turning, like a fate carving a path through eternity,
you'd never know how close the end is, like a flicker of light,
inside me, time flows like a river carrying the stories of those who were,
each moment dissolves like a caress lost in a dream,
and in the sea of thoughts and sensations, I dive into memories like into a cathedral,
it doesn't matter that your cry is lost, like a verse wandering in the wind,
that your step leaves traces only on the sands of dreams, like the hieroglyphs of the soul,
that your heart beats like a forgotten clock in an empty and cold room,
your hopes are like butterflies caught in the unseen webs of time,
the clock keeps ticking, the wheel keeps rolling on,
I wish I could stop time, freeze the moment in a crystal hourglass,
capture emotions like glass flowers shining in the dark,
but time is a river that knows no mercy in its eternal flow,
in the depths of its flowing waters, an unattainable truth is hidden,
but I feel it like a shadow that never leaves me,
it didn't matter how much you loved, how deeply you felt in your soul,
for in this world of dreams and silences, the clock ticks, the wheel turns,
and you, a traveler among moments, will not know how close the end is,
but you will feel life slipping through your fingers, like sand through the hourglass of eternity.