Long Finished Poems

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


3 Featuring Lyric Man

There once was a hippopotamus
that turned into three,
A Hip, a Pop and a Thomas.

Hip was cool he stayed in school,
Pop did not stop he was a fool,
Thomas was a donkey, a maul.

Hip worked hard always first to start,
Pop lived his life out of a shopping cart,
Thomas trafficed drugs in the dark.

Hip finished school after working hard,
Pop just sat around all day in bars,
Thomas got caught with cocaine up his a....

Hip got married and lived life happy,
Pop just drank and got real saggy,
Thomas made sure there were drugs in the baggy. 

Hip grew old and his kids had kids,
Pop choked one night on his own fluid,
Thomas went to prison for being stupid.

So kids listen to Lyric Man when he says, "it pays to be hip".
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Purity of the Gospel

We live in a day of glorifying man
all the questions are always earthbound
looking at what results their preaching did
God looking down sees an earthly sound

God almighty has higher standards than man
the proclamation of the gospel is His crown
He looks to His glory and only to that alone
so the gospel's purity sings along heavens sound

What indeed makes the gospel pure?
the gospel must be scripturally full
the preacher must magnify Christ
for its purity makes it a sparkling jewel

Today's church lives at a very low level
it needs lifting to look at Christ's sufficiency
for it's enough God doesn't ask for any more
Christ the saviour is sufficient absolutely

We're not saved by our giving
but by God giving His son
who's finished the salvation work
His father gave him to do, Jesus won

(We live in a day where numbers are all important in Gospel evangelism forgetting that the purity of the gospel is what God is concerned with for His own glory.)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Endless Love

I thought I saw you yesterday.
My heart assumed an unfamiliar arrhythmia mode.
True it was a humid and hectic day
and I was wearied out.

So as I sauntered 
down the busy main street,
when everyone and his friend
had just finished work.

I though I saw you on the opposite side,
strolling towards our favourite snack bar
down by the riverside.
Alas I could not cross immediately
for traffic was as usual heavy,
and the ill-fated traffic lights
took such a long time to change.
 
Finally I hurried to the snack bar.
My heart beat faster.
A woman sat at a table,
our favourite table, right by the window side.
Her hair was auburn, curly hair just like yours,
her dress a haunting memory of you.
But I knew it could not be.
She turned her head as if
she was waiting for someone.
Then I was certain it was not you.
 
So I felt ashamed, truly ashamed.
My eyes brimmed with tears.
I hurried out and took a bus,
arrived just before closing time.
I just had time to stand before the stone
that spelled your name so fine.
Rest in peace my love and remember
I'll love you till the end of time.

27 October 2020
Silent One Contest

 Placed 2

Premium Member I Am Defeated Today

my mind teases me with reminder of other failures
everything I have not finished
scads of ridicule taking away optimism
fresh crisp white paper lies dormant
I walk away in defeat

ordinary humdrum chastisement
by muse who is tired of ordinary things
takes a toll today
maybe tomorrow I can be a poet
I eat my misery away with sugar and salt
feeling the cancer devouring my colon 

determination brings me back
I stare down my imagination
she sneers that I do not have the words
you are no wordsmith! She screams
I pick up the pen 
dancing and prancing leap onto the page
my heart is heavy
today is not the day to become a writer.

Hello Pain

Hello pain,
I was wondering where you had been,
As I knew you couldn't stay away forever,
But I did appreciate the breather.

You still feel the same,
Do you play the same games?

I will not stop doing things or change my style,
Just because you are back in my life.
I always did things in spite of you,
Or even because of you.
I thought you had finished testing me ,
As there is nothing more you can teach me
And I figured out your purpose long ago.

It makes no difference if you stay or go,
You won't change me in any way,
No matter how long you stay.
I have too many things to do to be bothered by you.

In some ways you give me strength,
When things have to be dealt with.
I am even comfortable with you
And have no anger towards you.
I don't mind how long you stay,
Or if you come along with me all the way.
Form: Imagism


No Anchor For Rancor

When the lights of evening dusk have eluded me long enough 
I shall not walk through the hallways of death
with resentment at my side  
nor shall I hold any grudges against my fiends and 
family members 
When the sun in faded gold retrieves above the ocean  
I shan't use force to make it stay, I will let it go 
and if the good Lord hulls me in like he did 
with Peter, I will not anchor my ship in deep waters of rancor, 
for I know that for every dying sunset there is a brand new sunrise. 
  
I won't waste time on pity nor greed,  
I will happily be hulled 
and when I'm finally finished cruising the world, 
I will let go of that mast that I have grown so fond of, 
and join the seagulls in the sky.

Terabithia

Terabithia


The grief of loss, when death is the cost,
Is soul destroying, when you know they are gone.
We used to cross the water together;
We ran so fast in any weather.
We will have our place, forever and ever
And nothing will replace those memories.


We built a bridge to cross the river.
We created a land called Terabithia
And now I walk here with my sister,
Where once upon a time my love walked with me;
Now I only miss her.


I haven’t cried this hard in ages.
It breaks my heart to turn the pages.
I want to see beyond this end,
But the story has not finished yet.


I cannot talk to her anymore;
Where once we ran through our own world
And now she is gone, the beautiful girl.
The Dragon Flies that kept us safe; they are flying no more.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
© Aa Harvey  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ode

Premium Member A Models Likeness

A bruised heart scorned, sacred vows of a saint, sorrows of
unrequited lovers—art is what you paint—I Am Anaya

A Models Likeness 

Hues of magentas and white acrylic silky spells
Vibrant colors mixed from his palette he evokes
Swept over again ‘til emerging shades of eggshells
He has an ability to convey a sense of deep melancholy 
and yearning in much of his work
Thus, the reason she chose him furiously, 
at first for whatever it took
to capture her in what she is to atone for, 
her fate to be.

With bated breath the artist brushes swirling strokes
A finished background, now ready for her face sedate
A statuesque quality she provokes
More lugubrious than usual, she tells him she sat up late
worrying her fiancé be held up on the way
The model has been helpful he thought to himself
although she stood very still for him, all day.

He paints her salient gown next, her pose engaged
Her smile feigned, lips swollen red, from biting he detects
A glance of an earlier sketch traced of her enraged
He hides it while diluting color to match her pale skin
Languid and weak holding back her tears, 
she summons him to begin again.

Her inner likeness fails to appear, still he proceeds
Rest and ease your mind
What do you hear?  The renowned realist artist pleads
Think of times when life was kind
She protests it is no use, tells him to let it be, 
He agrees, lifting his brush and with its pointy end,
he then turns her head slightly, thirty degrees
Back to the canvas a figure now transcends.
   
A husband’s absent journey down the aisle
leaves her alone but with a phantom kiss                                                                             
A soul rendered vacant from callous guile  
A portrait of doom gazing into an abyss
What would’ve shown through paint; pain and sorrows
The artist knows what needs to be done, none the less
Lest what may have been in the lover’s tomorrows,
‘twas the painter's blissful ode to her wedding dress.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Revolving Ritual

A yellow glow 
Is packing ready to go 
Leaving the work space 
Building its case 
Finished the committed job 
Gloomy clouds never had a chance to rob 
Warming the world 
As the globe twirls 
Travelling to another destination 
Ready to glare a post card presentation 
Filled with enthusiasm not able to be patient 
Seconds click away 
Minutes collect them then say 
“Fourteen Forty makes one day” 
Still high in the sky 
Lighting a path where one should try 
To comprehend 
Life’s concept called ‘when’ 
Soon everything will be dark 
Night time checking in putting itself in park 
Just like the sun 
Slowly the lunar landscape will move until duties are done 
Fulfilling the sleeping hours 
Until daylight returns to blazing power 
Morning comes alive 
Bringing new hope as a rallying cry 
Top of the morning all 
With a wakeup call
A welcome smile 
Greeting the rank and file 
Going to defend 
What societal contributions they need to pen 
While a retiring moon hears the hen 
Finishing the time card and pushing send
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Where Does the Pepper Go

Today I was a prisoner in an emergency room for 3 hours, 
Quite irritating on a beautiful  67 degree day
When all I wanted to do was Re-plant the flowers I
Planted on Friday but tore out of the ground and put
Inside the house all over the place on Sunday before the freeze.

67 gloriously warm degrees!  Of course I wanted to plant
My flowers again.
God knows something about me though and She is not afraid to use it 
She knows I will keep working depleting my energies every day in every way until she takes me down hard.

Straight  from a stomach cat scan to a hospital room; and by 6;pm
I had grabbed the legs or hands of 5 nurse and 2 doctors by the leg ot 
Neck, 
Begging for a drink of water, reminding them that I am not too proud to
 drink toilet water.

One sassy nurse straightened me up by telling me if they did surgery I would be very sorry to have had a measly fork-tine full of water.
When supper came I downed it with gusto:  best beef broth in the whole world, 2 apple juices, 2 teas, and 5 whole cubes of orange jello.  
As I finished I stared at the 2 packets of pepper.
Where does the pepper go?
Still starving I sprinkled it on my tongue.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace