Long Feud Poems

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


Metaphysical Love

Rumi said, “The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you.”

And how ancient tales can still feel true. 
The odyssey of my heart began with barely a clue— 
then there you were on stage, 
and then… then I knew: 
my searching ended with you. 

Vivacious Vee, rare as a golden diamond you are to me. 
Your presence is sweet ambrosia nourishing my soul;  
with you, the future feels already foretold.  
You are the oxygen sustaining my flaming coal. 

“I” is for inimitable—my phenomenal frau. 
I could search high and low,  
wade through sand and snow, 
and still find no wonder on this earth  
with a smile as beautiful, as luminous as yours. 

Confidence is what your mind and body exude—  
never one to stagnate or brood.  
To understand, you display presidential patience;  
to forgive, you wield wisdom that extinguishes every feud. 

Taste sweet as philter’d wine with an addicting scent,  
like a whisper of vanilla drifting through a vineyard at sunset.  
If I could bottle your essence,  
I’d promise to keep it  
and label it Victoria’s Secret. 

Omnipresent is the connection of our yearning souls,  
waiting to unite and once again be set ablaze.  
Our highest moments are still untold; 
The Great Liberators will be our hymns in future days. 

Ravenous is my heart when your energy stokes its conflagration,  
burning inside me, shaping new cosmic creations.  
A passion even time will never sate—  
only tamed by the sweet taste of your sun-kissed nape. 

Impossible… maybe forever ineffable to describe  
these heart-strings of enigma  
that overwhelm my chest with warmth and purpose—  
the greatest phenomenon unobservable by the eyes. 

At times I ponder  
what magnanimous deeds 
my past life must have done 
for God to bless me with your heavenly presence. 

Rumi… I did it. I found the one. 
                      
                      Fin.
Form: Rhyme


My Enemy

My Enemy
From my time I have learned
It is not republican or democrats
king or queens
That shall determine my fate
It is not the color of ones skin
That makes them who they are
Or which religion one serves
Or which corner 
They choose to worship
It is not the feud
Of which life matters
It is not this worlds
 view in life that withstands
And it's not what race I was born into
It is not the division
This world strives to create
For in this time
I have come to learn
My worst enemy
Is me not surrending
Unto the creator of the all and all
It is only us that separates
Us from the love you never known
For you will see no color
Or care which race 
You where born into
For we are all God's creation
And he wants to live
In each of us
That we might reveal
To others the love he has for us
If you are still reading
I pray the Lord
Enters and dwells within
That he might become more
And we shall become less
And be a light
To a world that lives in 
Darkness
I love you all

My Day of Reckoning

It feels muted.
Like a bubbling ache, miming the mince of my patronising murk.
The peevish petulance of my prejudice prompts an abandoned frugality so thinned to a destined demise.
Unlaced.
Untied.
Undone.
A portal so honed to the residual refine of my extinction.
The sterling silver glints off the ashen sheds of my abandoned flesh; she looks like a platter.
Each serving an amortisation to the segments of my pestilent seethe.
Every atom of her making nurtures a barbaric famine to the fester of her feud.
Each larceny a sacrificial suckle for the prosperity of her condemn.
I feel my ruins spewing in a sovereign decay of a cataclysm so heinous in its destruction. 
So sinister in its devaluation.
So predatory in its death.
It feels muted; all my days blending one.
All my days blending into the countdown to my censure.
My day of reckoning.

Premium Member Inside My Mind

What once was straight, delightful and pure,
Has lost all of its stripes,
It’s become the colour of a beautiful war, 
The colour of a beautiful fight,

Where those in my mind argue and feud, 
About whatever they want,
Choosing to become a misty dark cloud, 
Made up of whatever they’ve got,

And the words they use conflict about love, 
“I like it”, “No, I actually don’t”,
“It doesn’t matter”, “Yes it does”, “I’m fine”, “No I’m not”, 
“I don’t want it”, “But I want it the most”,

These arguing thoughts they conflict all day long, 
It’s how I feel when I’m deep down inside,
It’s when part of me says “Yes” when the other says “No”, 
In my conflicting emotional mind.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Woman, Whenever, Wherever, Whoever You Are

womankind has been around for a while
  hypno-teasing men with her wicked smile
  been known by many names starting with Eve
  Boadicea, Cleopatra and Genevieve

  she can fly-by-night, be out with the bats
  purring and prowling with sly slinky cats
  never a tame girl, sometimes receptive
  with hidden secrets, deep and deceptive

  see her in twilight, creature in the dark
  flames flickered when she was Joan of Arc
  think she has been here for just a few years?
  think again, them hills they flow with her tears

  woman has been teacher for aeons of time
  wrote most of " Homer ", taught Plato to rhyme
  as Archimedes' hand-maid, she had a laugh
  when he shouted " Eureka, get me out of the bath! "

  around when Adam gave out those spare ribs
  her name is on parchment writ with rare nibs
  her time here with us, a mere interlude
  battles over centuries, a bitter feud

  with men from the past and future I'm told
  man on her arm, just her latest cuckold
  well-rounded dame or seriously slim
  cheerful demeanour or chief sister grim

  close-quarter woman talking loud and fast
  words over-taking like a blast from the past
  so hard to keep up, so hard to break in
  leave you behind in the wake of her din!

  what's this I hear, is she now slowing down
  pausing for men, is she wearing a frown?
  perhaps she's starting to shuffle the deck
  departure dreaming on a very long trek

  maybe no point in moving on once more
  the greater challenge is here at the door
  as men they shout " I am invincible
  I've the biggest Archimedes Principle! "

  late at night she now walks the floorboards
  seeking a new role, a song with new chords
  " where and when will I go, who will I be
  will I stay in this land or else oversea ? "

  men of the future and men of the past
  treasure this woman as head of the cast
  whenever, wherever, whoever you are
  she will always twinkle, shine like a star

  bring her some chocolate, bring her some wine
  make sure she stays and has a good time
  but watch at midnight in case she's outside
  all alone by the road hitching a ride

  silver moonbeam and finest curb crawler
  then down to the port and onto a trawler
  far out to sea where she thinks of those days
  when Gods fought Neptune for sight of her gaze
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse


Premium Member For the Fallen In Flanders Field

Famished and flagging footsoldiers;
facing fatigue, fitful fever,
faeces and foul, foetid fungi.
Fostering feelings, frustrated,
for this faraway, foreign field.

Forays so fraught with fine failure;
forfeiting furtive and fiendish,
fatally fettered from the first.
Forged by such fatuous fawners,
for folly to feud for a field.

Forced forwards with fleetness of foot;
firearms flash and fragments fly far,
feigning the firmament aflame.
Forces fight so ferociously,
fratricide set free on this field.

Forthright and filial feelings;
families of fine forefathers,
fought fiercely, for fear we’d forget.
Familiar flora forms focus,
for the fallen in Flanders Field.

- - - - - - - - -

8 syallables on every line (www.howmanysyllables.com)
November 2018

Entered in Brian Strand's "Contest No 515".
(1st Place)

I wanted to do something special - and a bit different - to mark the centenary of the end of The Great War (11 November 1918).  This poem is dedicated to all the brave souls lost defending freedom during that terrible conflict (and all conflicts since).

Premium Member Frenemies I have a Few

We hate each other's point of view.
We beg to differ to avoid a blew.
We reach across the deep chasm divide,
To sit for a time on the other side.

Yet we are friends, despite all this,
Content to pretend that ignorance is bliss.
As we set our differences aside, 
Hold space to hear and let our feud slide.

We enjoy this game we jointly play,
Where trust and doubt have their way.
We frenemies are both foe and friend
With an ironic paradox that will never end.

So, let's drink to ties that bind
Us together, twisted, and intertwined.
As friend and enemy threads over-sewn 
To interlock our relationship set in stone.
Form: Rhyme

Blues

9/17/18
"Blues""

They don't even notice a new you
Ooooo
They keep looking at me like I'm cuckoo
Boo-hoo
Who knew
I'd have such bad juju
All that's left is a doll used for voodoo

Any day now I'm due to
Evolve into Mewtwo
Then I'll be a guru

Just love me,  since very few do
Nothing I said is voulu

I’m looking for a nice girl that can dance in a tutu
Her name doesn't have to be Lulu


Taking a cruise
Got the blues
My grasp on reality, I'm starting to lose
No longer minding my P’s and Q’s

Continuing to booze
And snooze
Had to pay my dues

Can't follow the clues
Must be missing a few screws

Heart beaten black and blue
An endless ooze
Of blood followed by a bruise

Not a single soul whose
Able to walk a mile in my shoes

No longer amused
Or Enthused

At a rapid rate I consume
Substances being abused
Aghh, I'm so confused
To tell the truth, it's of no use
Because I've always been doomed
Overhead a black cloud loomed
And there was endless gloom

I Improved
Then fell back and lost my groove

She sent me nudes
Of much more than her boobs
To me and ten other dudes

Then she had an attitude
And wanted to feud
Because I wasn't in the mood
To put up with bull, go ahead and call it rude

Whew!
For you
I made more than room
And then boom
There you were marrying a man born with a silver spoon
Able to literally buy you anything underneath the stars and moon

Picking flowers that recently bloomed
To whom
It may regard, may this lead you to a boon
With something so very opportune

Got to keep making moves
After what I choose
All while sampling different foods

Nearby a lagoon
Just following my own tune
Looking up at the moon
While atop a dune

Time has once again proved
That from the picture, I've already been removed

It's okay because this afternoon
It  will all be over soon
Form: Rhyme

Fearless

Be fearless, don't think about criteria. 
Stop with the feud within yourself, with your own self-inflicted bacteria. 

Be fearless, sing that song you wrote. 
You will feel light, like when the wind is giving that kite the ability to float. 

Be fearless, dance like a captivating ballerina. 
You will feel free, like a bird soaring through the morning sky, one bright day in Argentina. 

Be fearless, fall in love with the one that makes your heart sing. 
You will feel peace and complete, like the Northern Lights when it fills up the night sky. 

Be fearless, go after what it is you exactly want. 
You will have no regrets, like eating a freshly baked croissant, while feeling at ease and completely nonchalant.
© Rita Lopez  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Wake on the Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and insomnia befell,
No creature was stirring, but my thoughts are pell-mell.
Would the family squabbles and feuds come with the cheer?
Would I have to drown them out, with too much beer?

The smile and wave diversion has limited worth?
How long can my mirth defray my feeling good dearth?.
I flit like a butterfly, I sting like a bee. 
But, my hands can't hit what my eyes can't see.

It's all so jovial, with all folks tongues tied.
Letting slip barbs tongue-in-cheek that lied.
Lips forced into clenched fist clamped smiles.
With forget-me-knots shrouded as wait-a-whiles.
 
The reindeers were laughing, stopping on the roof,
as I downed another draught of whiskey high-proof.
A hangover is a sure-fire cure to help me cope,
with the downhill slide to the slippery slope.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and I'm awake,
fearing the family feud sparring earthquake.
My mind is churning over past disputes, give-and-take,
and how to avoid ruining the day with a silly mistake.
Form: Rhyme

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