Long Finale Poems
Long Finale Poems. Below are the most popular long Finale by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Finale poems by poem length and keyword.
My mom raised me
She fed me
She cared for me
My mom is a saint
Raising five boys…
How can you say she ain’t?
My wife is nuts!
She is worried she may get laid off,
Yet she is hoping she will :\
She worries too much
But takes it all in stride
She is so strong and so weak at the same time
Dealing with all the stress
Yet the dog farting is too much!
My daughter is mine
She is too much like me,
Only more so
She doesn’t worry enough
Life brings what comes along
Her heart is full of song
But it’s mostly metal and punk and rap
And I just don’t get that crap
My daughter is also an addict you see…
Which is hard for us to understand, you see.
Addicts can’t “just stop”.
They let the drug-of-choice rule their life
They don’t care about the strife
There are triggers you know
That make the addict so
Stress, anxiety, depression, loneliness and boredom
They all push the addict towards the ledge
And their low self-esteem is the finale step
Over
The
Edge.
She is in recovery now…
She is doing well
She will always be
An addict you see
We love her the best we can
We will stick to the plan
And take each day
As it comes in to play.
My granddaughter is great!
She’s not yet two
She is nuts too.
She knows nothing of how
She came to my house.
(refer to the stanza on “My Daughter”)
She loves unconditionally
She loves Grandpa you see.
She doesn’t yet speak
So she cries her fears
And I dry her tears
And just like with her grandma and her mother
I try to read her mind
To see if I can tell
What it is that makes her yell
But she is sweet and kind and beautiful
And grandpa spoils her so…
Bet he can’t help it, you know.
It may be politically incorrect
But I don’t care;
Sometimes there is too much estrogen in the air
So grandpa gets out of the house
And meets his buds
And drinks some suds
And tells dirty jokes
About the kind of women
My mother and wife never were,
and I hope my daughter and granddaughter never will be.
So point your finger at me
And yell Hypocrisy!
I don’t care
Because you wouldn’t dare
Live my life for me.
But I would not trade all of this
To be rid of the drama (and the bliss)
It’s four against one
the ladies and me
Walk a mile in my shoes
And you will see
It takes great strength to do what I do
Four-to-One, and two dogs too.
In the realm where indigo flames are chased by the whims of wind,
The horizons have learned to spare my soul the thread of pain.
For the first time, of love I croon, a minstrel's virgin strain,
From tempests of discord, I retreat, in tranquility's refrain.
This inaugural chant of love, echoes pure without disdain,
For I swear off the brawl, in love's gentle domain.
Where once I stood, a rust-worn grove, static, stark, alone,
Rushing to women and vodka's call, a raucous, rampant drone.
No more do I crave the bitter swig or the gambler's eager tone,
To squander life on trivial plays, in reckless zest overblown.
The thirst has waned for liquid vice, and from dice's call I've flown,
The mirth of wasteful life is lost; to sober thought I've grown.
In silence vast, it's enough to gaze, upon your lofty eye's domain,
To watch the sky in your orbs dance, and forget all former bane.
And by your side, to forget the past, that you may never again roam,
That in the face of bygone shadows, you'll find with me a home.
Erasing every trace of yesteryears, that you may never by your leave,
No other's call shall you heed, in this new magic weave.
You tread so lightly, my precious smile, if your heart but knew the void,
How a rogue can love with fervent zeal, by fierce passion overjoyed.
How a libertine, once untamed and wild, can become so demure and coy,
His heart can surge in dutiful tide, a reverent, tender employ.
To fathom a reprobate's tender care, and see him humbly deploy,
The love that in his depths were hid, now in sunlight's gleam and joy.
The tavern's lure, forever lost, would evade my restless feet,
Poetry's verse would mean naught if your cold arms were my retreat,
And if I could touch those frost-kissed arms, and your autumnal hair so sweet.
Let me feel the chill of your embrace, fall's flowering guise complete,
To know the softness of your skin, in the fallen leaves' deceit,
As if touching the season's finale bloom, so delicate, so fleet.
Eternally I'd follow you upon this Earth's expanse,
Distance would shift to trivial space, with each tender glance.
For the first love I sing a tune, a soft, untried advance,
From the tempests of old I part my way, giving peace a chance.
Again, of love, a newfound song - with sweet, melodious cadence,
First time away from strife I sway, in love's echoing resonance.
Wonder’s Darkness
by Odin Roark
He knew wonder well
It could cancel fear
And bestow courage
A nexus for survival
A predawn beginning
His solo-climb of the face
Thought crazy by doubters
Had started swift and easy
The results of plans
Rehearsals
Confidence
The wall’s darkness was his own
Anchoring piton after piton
Securing each meter of ascension by feel
With unharnessed confidence of mind
For this was a climb of defiance
Knowing few if any
Might or would
Ever understand his exhilaration
His unique love of climbing-chalk and sweat
Carabineers and rope
Anchors and ascenders
Tenuous connections to life
All married to his inner eclipse
Yet at the halfway point…
Exhaustion appeared
Adrenalin waned
His pendulum traverse had missed
Time seemed to stop
Flesh and rock collided
Bringing cold panic
Seizing breath to hold
Suspending threatened fate
Even as the skill of a spider
Had kept him safely vertical until now
Death’s harassment had not been part of the plan
His back rested against cold granite
The lead taste of blood from his nose
Conflicted the balsam and cedar fragrance
Gusting up from the valley floor
Fifteen hundred feet below
His straight down reality
Minutes passed…
Awe and respect
Life’s often ignored necessitude
Hung together with him
Against the sheared mountain
Some predicted his dreaded finale
With tenacity as partner
Calmness merged with a blanket of sunrise warmth
The crisis became the past now
This test of tests faced completion
His mind eased back to a climber’s trust
Careful feeling about
Delivered firm grips
Precise movement
Renewed determination
Moving him deftly toward the descent team’s cheers
Waiting on distant topside
Resisting aid
He reached the summit
And gathering minutes of needed rest
Even amidst the accolades and glee
He prepared for the hard part
The trek down the backside
This blind climber knew
Like those with eyes to see
Exhaustion can make even a simple return route
More dangerous than the climb
With the descent team
Assisting his tired body
The crude trail carved
For bushwhacking
Brought danger often missed
Until it was too late
Loose scree
Roots of trees
Ruts and rocks
With sightless vision
He maneuvered the precarious path
His certain smile becoming contagious
Moving shaking heads of doubters once
To embrace a blind climber’s wonder
As their own
So after I told the crowd
in the store that I was
not Dolly Parton,
they quickly went away
disappointed and forlorn like,
going over to the dairy
to pick up some milk,
tried to stay calm as I
noticed pictures on
the back of the milk cartons
of my former self,
then I quickly drove home
and put the groceries
on the shelf,
thinking this disguise
isn't doing me any good,
decided to wear a
long red wig around
the neighborhood,
thinking now I can
finally relax again,
until people started
thinking I was Naomi Judd...
Then I noticed the
amish mafia guy
at the local 7-11,
I quickly drove away
to the local police station,
where they put me up in
a convent for
witness protection,
where Mother Superior
gave me my habit to wear,
and with it some long underwear,
calling me by new name
which was now Sister Rose,
she made me feel inferior,
as she was always looking down on me
with her big holier then thou nose,
the routine was to wake up every day at 4 a.m.
going to the chapel to pray
and say a lot of amens,
then having a quick breakfast of
coffee, bread and water,
then onto the cleaning
which lasted several hours,
washing and ironing the nuns
and priests clothes everyday,
cleaning the floors and toilets
with a tiny toothbrush
to my dismay,
dusting and vacuuming
all the rooms,
maintaining the large
farm using an old broken down mule…
At night I'd go to bed on
the lumpy old mattress,
feeling exhausted, lonely and famished,
hearing nothing but my stomach
complaining and grumbling,
thinking to myself
this is worse than the amish!
So tying some bedsheets
together I jumped out
the convent window,
ran all the way as
fast as I could and
started to hitchhike
on the turnpike,
it started raining and a
car finally pulled over,
quickly jumped in
only to discover,
the amish mafia guy
who looked
like Al Pacino give me
a big wide grin…
thinking to myself
not again...
Addendum: She finally escaped again and settled in Timbuktu where thank God nobody recognized her and where she made friends with the natives there who just happened to be so primitive they got her at spearpoint to make all their clothes and food from scratch, clean all their huts, make baskets and pottery, be the nanny for their tribal kids, hunt lions and tigers for meals……….
Into your being, Aeolus blew
an enthusiastic hunger,
Driving your curious and passionate nature
To swirl together in an eclectic dance,
Displaying a prismatic array of imaginative hues,
a zealous vortex, a colorful blur.
You were alive in a way very few
Ever were
This was you.
People said you were a mess,
a faltered and broken soul, they'd say,
an albatross placed around one's neck,
a sinking ship, a ball, and chain—
a disaster not yet made.
With jealous words, they chose to speak
but I saw the magic
they were too blind to see.
Your chaos was brilliant;
you were beautiful to me.
You calmed in my presence
enough that I could see
your aura painted with every color known to be.
And when your eyes met mine,
I could tell
they saw beyond my earthly shell.
And within your essence of spinning hues,
I saw something else there too:
a sadness,
a sadness I swore to love out of you,
to preserve the magic in your dance.
So I gave you my loyalty, time, and patience
for my love already lived within your essence’s grasp,
I was determined to heal the tear in your heart,
to mend without scars all your shattered parts.
While in my soul's embrace,
your shadows seemed to wane.
With time, the darkness did ascend—
you felt no more pain,
no heaviness within.
But as the shadows left your face,
your cyclonic presence softened its pace.
With your heart filled
and your sadness erased,
I watched your vortex still
and its colors fade.
Happy and whole, you felt content
in the family we created, in the life we lived.
Feeling ashamed, I began to pull away,
remorseful, burying the ache I could not explain.
I was angry with my own heart
for feeling confused—
in the absence of your color, I had lost my muse.
For the murder of inspiration,
my love stands accused,
missing all the initial cues
that the sadness I sought to remove
was more important to me
than I ever knew
I understand now what your sadness did—
it held open the wound where your magic lived.
And the pain that wound made, it gave like a gift,
stitching new feeling to every color it bled.
And with every new color, reality bent,
giving birth to a finale of colorful spark
That ignited the beautiful whirlwind of chaos
I loved with every ounce of my heart
Satan: World listen up
I am the King of distinction
Hatred, Corruption and Destruction at my helm
Defeat is no option
Narrator: Satan thought
Satan wanted to do battle and challenged the Lord
A battle that would soon begin
God’s Angels descended being the Lord’s spiritual
Warriors and the Lord accompanied them
Lord: I am the Lord Almighty of Faith in trust of Deliverance
Satan you are no match for me
I bring the ultimate superiority of power beyond yours
External light follows me
Satan you are all darkness
Satan: I am determined to be the victor, and will not back
down
I have my own forces of sinful warriors
Narrator: Let the battle commence
The challenger’s step up
Front and Center
No handshake nor smile
Just eye to eye
They accept the challenge
Satan full of Hell fiery
The Lord surrounded with Glory
The Heavenly Angels observed ready in support in
Defending whenever
Satan’s soulful warriors with spears and disguised as
Disfigured animals
Challengers: Satan tries to attack the Lord in punches
The Lord feels not one
The Lord then waves his mighty hand, and Satan
is knocked down unable to get up
Satan thought he was strong like a giant, but was
defeated on the spot
Narrator: Testing the Lord’s ability was a No No, and Satan
got a taste first hand
Finale: Satan and his Soulful warriors destroyed
He went back to Hell to plan his next move
Defeat mode was his judgement
He vowed revenge
Satan attempted to attack the Narrator, but didn’t
Realize he confronted not knowing that the
Narrator was an Angel of God’s army
Frightened full of fear and fled
The Lord told his Spiritual Angels that the mission
was complete
Wasn’t truly over
Satan will once again try to make every effort to
imprison the world in conflict
Heaven will always be ready and observing in
giving a peaceful outcome of solvency
Cheers to Heaven
New believers step out
Understanding that hope doesn’t come from Hell
New day with a better tomorrow
Everlasting promise
Watchful eyes of Heaven
Lord’s Cross
Faith Enforce
Sunlight forever
Sin no more
Sunrise for sure
Heaven’s reign
Maybe it’s unacceptable
Live a life capable of a true fable
True friends never end
But take you back to where it all began
But hey misery gave us something to believe in
Stress became a greater award as we achieved sin
What could I say? Our savior died on a cross tough as pig skin
Never once cried over the loss
Forbidden fruit, Eden garden
Excuse me, my lord, I beg your pardon
And so what if these medics carry life in a carton
But I ain’t trippin
Simply because this is me until my dying day
Please stop crying, you know I can’t stay
I’m going to be the same until my dying day
Over in that casket is where I’m trying to lay
That’s right until my dying day
True lost souls from the dark side
Forever, we as mortals ride
Peace is nothing, I fend for quiet time
Rebels in riot lines
Previous high school graduates
Symbols of an adjective running toward fate
True personality suffer the privilege of inmates
How could you hesitate to ask
There’s no stranger under this mask
Lonely and unholy, who’s there to console me?
I want to get away, forever restless
You can see my similarities with the ocean
I’m stress less
Because this is me until my dying day
Please stop crying, you know I can’t stay
I’m going to be the same until my dying day
Over in that casket is where I’m trying to lay
My son, my friend
We are but pieces of eternity
Mesh on, mesh off
Even at our best times we’re soft
Who’s to say I’d regret my decision
To lead a sinners life without God’s supervision
On a one man mission
And I know I don’t come around much
Got my palms in reality
Searching for something softer to touch
Whisper in my ear, death makes me blush
And Hell only flatters me
One and one, through matter the winds scatter me
I ain’t trippin, baby girl get off your knees
You’re in the arms of a future me
And I can’t see heaven from a distance
Fire me over clouds like a piston
Marching through blood
But it’s all mud and water to Darkhouse
Stand still let me mark my spouse
Live my life as an outcast
How could you even picture me at my last?
Dear lord show some mercy on my followers
Bless those that swallow dust to follow us
No need to borrow sympathy
Unforgiving sorrow made my enemies envy me
I awake to the beautiful plaintive strains
Of a violin - then realize it’s just in my head
Just a dream - a shame to find
I’m in the hospital - same room - same bed
The monotonous ticking of the clock on the wall
Time, an indefinite progress of my existence
Time for my pills, time to call the nurse
Time not on my side, breaking down my resistance
After lunch a quick nap
Then the visiting hour I dread most of all
Seeing pity in their eyes, they wish me back
To what I was before my withdrawal
The world of music - my life - my love
The fame and fortune that once was mine
Exhilarating - Intoxicating, a wife at my side
With children sharing the Glory Divine
I lived it - I breathed it
Plucked at its very soul
The core of its existence in my hands
Like a faithful servant it played its role
I look at the painting on the wall
A feeling of Déjà vu enters it seems
I’ve seen this glade of lush green plants
And these sparkling bubbling streams
I remember drawing back watching afar
An Angel who danced in its midst
Who danced with wild abandon
Her hair that the sun had kissed
I remember wishing I could dance with her
With this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud
To watch us Dance to Love
But it’s just a painting - There’s no girl there
And I’m just a sick old man
Wallowing in my grief and sadness
Existing however best I can
What’s this I’m suddenly in the glade?
A young strong man once more
She has come for me, my Angel love
I leap - I twirl - I soar
The world I’ve left behind
Unshackled my attachments of
A hundred birds do sing out loud
To watch us Dance to Love
We dance with wild abandon
We dance without a care
With sun kissed skin our arms entwined
Wild flowers in our hair
Footnote:
We do not know for sure if my Father – who was a great violinist and classical musician, had imagined this story when he was a young man, when he chanced on a young girl dancing in the glade. It’s a story he told us many times and we loved to believe it.
I like to imagine a fitting finale to the first story, when his time came and have pictured it in this poem.
This story begins in my Poem arrangement 'Dance to Love - Part 1'
When mapping something out
It should be a subject thought about
Beginning, middle and the finale
Everything is there says Rand McNally
But from the depths below
A mystery creating ocean wakes to flow
An island emerges from the deep
Treasures on it adventure seekers want to keep
Floating along on it minding their own business
Dirty scoundrels escaping from illegal missions
Then they see this uncharted land
A surprise in a disappearing honest scam
“Land ho!” Was heard from above
An enchanting world the crew fell in love
“Do you know the date?
My dear mate”
Flipping through the calendar an answer was assured
Summer was ready to take the floor
Headed out on this dangerous chore
This crooked crew wanted to know more
An hour later docked on the beach
Beautiful and scenic around them well in reach
It only took a few seconds
Encountering locals doing some checking
“We came from the South”
Natives stated opening their mouths
“It is warm up here
Still relaxing with our autumnal cheer”
Feeling a little confused
And being amused
Which direction they were going
Weather was doing the rowing
“From the north
To see if there is any worth
Was our destination
Hope you believe our presentation
Left when it was cold
But soon winter was getting ready to pack and fold”
Laughing at the circumstance
Giving the visitors a listening chance
“Winter has arrived
Our new friends gave it a ride!”
They shouted the news
Welcoming the Europeans who were accused
“You are now down under
A mysterious wonder
Nowhere in sight
Is there a royal and a knight
To take off a head
Claiming a societal debt”
Taking their time
These free swines
Observed the landscape
Concluding its great
“Happy winter solstice to you all”
Was the tourist’s call
Educated in manipulating the commoner’s law
“Would you like to see Harrold’s boutique inside the mall?”
Questioned the hosts stiffening their upper jaw
“Come join us
We can take the double decker bus”
In the end
Sailors took up the pen
Wrote home
Stating ‘we are not alone
Will use the phone
To pay off our expedition loan
Plan finding things buried in antique chest
Containing your jewels I must confess”
As the sun sets
A hot wind like this
Does not belong in downtown Lansing
But here it is
Speed-boating down the Grand River grinning and wearing Ray-Bans
My wife and I
We hold down our pouncing bouncing patio table
At the Waterfront Bar and Grill
As if we were airborne soldiers just landed
But still attached and tangled
To our thumping jumping parachutes
Strings of lightbulbs clattering like teeth above us
Hung from under the Friday night tent
96 degrees even as the day sinks to evening.
The river converts to beer and shots of whiskey.
The catfish are buzzed and jump for joy.
The four member rock band is amped up
With the addition of a mandolin
And plays the entire second side in order
From Led Zeppelin III
But replacing at the end Hats Off (To Roy Harper)
With Hey Hey What Can I Do? as one big set.
Who does that?
We notice there are well-known bartenders
Playing hooky from working anymore
At the drab and deadly chain restaurants
Back in the townships.
We should all follow their lead
And go on strike right now from the boredom of life
Everyone everywhere
Just quit and sit along the Grand River in this sparkling city
But the lead guitarist
He drinks his beers as fast as the crowd
And the bass guitarist tilts her instrument
Vertical to her shoulder
A mother soothing her baby’s back
Swaying her hips in melodic circles
While the drummer and the piano player try to catch up
On beat
So we sing along
Implanting our hands in the dough of air.
Jimmy Page is here.
Sitting alone.
Dressed in black.
Sipping from a tall glass of orange juice.
It’s too hot for flies
So lightning bugs twinkle to the sticky bottoms
Of emptied beer pitchers
Flickering on the table tops
To the night’s finale of Whole Lotta Love
Mixed at the end with Baba O’Riley.
Who does that?
All night
A friendly man at the table next to me
A union bus driver
Who bragged he’d worked enough overtime all year
To take PTO for the entire summer
Flicks his hand against my shoulder
(The same shoulder that has Melanoma growing on it)
Every time the band strikes the first chords
To another rare Zep
With the same look of
Can you believe it?
Apparently, I must have the same look.