Long First poem Poems
Long First poem Poems. Below are the most popular long First poem by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long First poem poems by poem length and keyword.
Screams, Screeches, groans and wails
Let me tell you Agonies’ tales
And of bullets, bombs and pellet guns
For a person with Heart must know these pains
Here somewhere, kids are blinded; men are jailed
Women are molested; the old are tortured
Lucky, You have a home and a steak to fry
Billions starve and sleep under the frigid Sky
The wild jungles of wars scrambled Humanity
Sighs took over the the throne of sweetest Melody
Deluges of tears washed off the rainbows of joy
Atrocities eager for innocent lives to get destroy
Yet you say the world is beautiful.. ?
That it is benign and bountiful...?
May be yes, for you… as you are at peace!
Come out of your little Palace...
And you will find...
Sky painting itself red...!
Butterflies renouncing their dreams
Birds with trimmed wings
Blood ocean... barren trees... burnt houses...
Teared eyes... and shattered bodies….
People live their lives in fear everywhere
Along Syria, Yemen, Palestine and Kashmir
Earth is ugly, jinxed and savage
For humanity sobs, as her soul is damaged
26-7-20 (Paghunda)
(This was my first poem on soup, reposted it with some changes)
The
old house
from my memories
opens to a wide porch
adorned by mom with her
loving touch.Herbs,flowers
swayed to caressing breeze
Lilies in pink, roses in blue
and bougainvilleas that
blushed in lilac hues.
Green tulsi shrubs
tended with care.
Ah! leaves that
flavored
our tea.
They
were
laced
by a
fence
with a
sweet aroma
from tendrils
curling bluebells
intertwined in mesh.
The fragrant jasmine,
she sang to them
and put one in
her wavy hair.
Spring bloomed them to full moon. Monsoons brought a divine petrichor
that made us breathe the heavenly aroma of her love. She taught me
to care for them under the Mahogany tree that enveloped them from
raging heat. She worshipped her nursery like her own kids. Every
evening, dad used to share his stories watching the rosy blush.
On moonlit nights, we stargazed lying on the grassy bed and
listened to old songs on radio. I had built a corner of three
bricks to keep my favorite books to bloom and read them
on lazy noon with cuckoo's songs breathing intermingled
scents. When we left that house, the garden lived for
someone else. My mom had wished they would care
for it like she did. I packed my old books to move on.
Now years later, far from mom, when I miss my garden
of bliss, I unpack those books that still release scents of
roses and jasmine drenched and dancing, releasing soothing
petrichor. For a love so deep shall bless me now in my kitchen
garden, confined to few flowers. That love still blooms with those
books as I inhale the fragrance of those foregone days. Like I carry
my mother's essence in everything I am, the divine garden of that heaven
from my memories and the eternal fragrance of mother gleaming, lives on.
~ To the garden where I wrote my first poem
The beginning of poetry . . .
God created:
light and darkness,
the heavenly bodies paraded down set paths in perfect rhythmic orbit,
pristine waters, propelled by gracious winds, lapped against white sand beaches,
all forms of living creatures filled the waters and the earth,
plants of every description grew in abundance for beauty and food . . .
but there was no one to enjoy all the perfection.
God said, let us make man in our own image . . .
He leaned down to the dust and scooped up a handful,
shaped and molded it into a man,
then He breathed into that form the breath of life
and man became a living soul.
God knew that man should not be alone . . .
He caused a deep sleep to come upon the man
and from his side he took a rib bone;
with that bone God made a woman, Eve,
to be the companion for his man creation.
The first poem was creation, written by God upon a dark void,
He passed his gift of poetry on to mankind.
What are we doing with it?
You and I live in His poem;
we are His poem,
but we have rewritten much of it with our hatred, violence and sin.
His beautiful poem suffers abuse at the hands of those
who were to be the caretakers of it.
We even killed the author when He visited the beautiful poem He created . . .
Copyright, September 11, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Portions based loosely upon Genesis 1 and 2.
I eat "Ice Cream Castles" from the air
Now there are no clouds anywhere
The Ice King sits upon his Throne
No Queen for him he's all alone
Within blue skies the world is clear
I stretch my hand to bring him near
Climbing upward on a "Ferris Wheel"
From luscious lips a kiss to steal
He looks on Earth to find a bride
Each girl he has kissed has sadly died
We know love, from "both sides now"
A pleasured moment a broken vow
Sad and smokey tortured eyes
Within metal cocoon we try to rise
His lips so cold my warmth is stole
He must find one to quench his soul
As the wheels turns, we both shall fall
We want everything but can't have it all
The ride is over the game is done
I can't share our story with anyone
He is a man and has his needs
On others warmth is how he feeds
The Castle crumbles clouds back in the air
I dream my dreams I can still smell his hair
Lonely is the path some lovers choose
I sit with red wine and sing my blues
Within the cold there is desire
He seeks a woman with ample fire
As smoke dances on thickened air
I love a lover who isn't there
My First poem is Empty Castles, written on July 20, 2014.
It was a tribute to Joni Mitchell's. Her song "Both Sides Now"
was part of the inspiration. Words from her song are in quotes.
I wrote it after looking at a self portrait she painted.
I chose to write it in a female voice.
My second poem is Ice king, written For SKAT July 28, 2013.
The third and forth line of each stanza are from this poem.
This poem is for Craig Cornish's; Intermingle Contest.
When shadows of the evening fade,
And earth she wears her darkest dress,
It's magic time as stars parade,
Like jewels, into jet inlaid.
We gaze, as land and sky caress,
When shadows of the evening fade.
As daylight and the nightime trade,
The world still turns, for this we bless.
It's magic time as stars parade.
Our moon each night will serenade,
Her timeless flight, for loves success
When shadows of the evening fade.
The milky way's a silver braid,
Like diamonds sparkling in a tress.
It's magic time as stars parade.
The zodiac, earths rich brocade.
This bracelet , charms us with finesse,
When shadows of the evening fade.
It's magic time as stars parade.
I told Jan Allison this was the first poem i had ever written.
I was mistaken, recently i found an old school exercise book,
With a poem i wrote in 1951 aged 11. It was named The Tramp.
So i entered this on Poetry Soup also. Regards George.
8 / 31 / 2017.
The first poem I posted on Soup. One of the first 200 poems I deleted. I found a rough copy in an old scribble book.
Hardware Blues.
My dad he went down fighting, to keep his local hardware store
But the big boys took his customers and the bank said “Shut the door”.
He had sales and cut-price specials and bargains galore,
He thought and thought of ways that he could do more.
He opened the store all day and half the night to suffice
But Bunnings told their customers “We will cut his price”
Well its sad to say but working in his store has been no fun for me.
I will be glad to look for work elsewhere and glad to say I’m free.
I am quite convinced that in a hardware store there is no place
For a genteel and rather shy, member of the female race.
Men would come in asking for objects that I found quite obscene,
For example I was asked “Where would a bloke find a ball pein?”
Another walked up to me and gave me quite a shock
As he informed me that he desperately needed a plumber’s cock.
Yet another quite nice gentleman assumed that I knew
On what shelf he would find a tool to drive a screw.
I had to inform one man that he needed a pet shop for his pet
When he told me it was a Rover jumper that he needed to get
A man came in one day who had quite a stammer
I was sure I heard him wrong when he asked for a Bi hex spanner
One man became quite forceful and nearly made me sob
When he insisted that I must know where was a plumb rule and Bob !
Requests for a Tongue and groove, Pump plier, a Mortar pan and a Fitting tool
Put me in a quandary and made me feel quite the fool
Once a lady was in the store. I was pleased until she asked for a toilet brush
I admit that even asking for such a simple item as this had made me blush
A guy that barked out gruffly “Spirit Level !” brought me to my lowest point.
MY spirit was at its lowest ebb and I am glad I no longer work in this joint.
There goes my heart.
Once sealed now open like the mouth of a volcano.
My souls’ strings pulled out from their place of refuge.
My soul thriving to breathe from your mere presence.
My hand exploring every fore of your delicate body.
My hands aching, yet trying not to touch the hollow of your strong neck.
I’m short of breath; I don’t know what it is.
Could it be the fear of letting my heart loose?
Or it’s the sweet smell of your hair, the feeling of your skin next to mine.
There goes my heart.
The edges of my mouth curve…into a smile; a smile of bitter sweet defeat.
I can’t fight it; my heart is a mask of intense emotions.
I trace the edges of your lips; I just have to engrave the feeling in my soul.
My mind is at ease, the air around me silent yet so soothing.
I’m scared.
I don’t want this moment to pass, I’m so intent.
I don’t want to miss a sigh from the depth of your soul.
There goes my heart.
I try to keep a lock on it.
But I dare myself; I have to win this race.
Although it’s reaching its futile end.
It’s almost over.
I’m speechless.
I don’t understand it, I don’t want to.
Why could something so beautiful come to end?
I don’t care either way.
Those once pure moments will be gone.
I don’t mind.
There goes my heart.
I think…"let it go”.
I look into his eyes; they are a pool of mixed emotions.
But we both know it’s for the best.
I trace every bit of his face; kiss his eyes, his nose… I have to remember it.
I love him, I know.
I look into his eyes again, smile and slowly drift to sleep; thinking.
There goes my heart.
I don’t mind anymore.
It wouldn’t make a difference either way.
I know it will be safe, it will soar above clouds.
Enjoy the last moments of pure bliss.
And then come back to me in one piece.
It’s in good hands, I know.
There goes my heart.
(C) Herzel Poshiwa
Posting this first poem for me was quite nerve wrecking because it was one of the first poems I had ever written.
Remember as yesterday, when I was in the lobby of my work writing some words that sounded as poetry, and founded PS website. Without any prior knowledge of poetry, posted the first poem named as Love Beat. Many poets and poetess extended a warm welcome and encouraged during this first year to continue writing.
A catharsis in moments when the sun seems to hide between the clouds of blue. Still have to learn, it has been a wonderful year to read marvelous poems from excellent poets and poetess around the world. A skill discovered by chance, had gave the opportunity to paint as poetry the contemplation of nature, life, love, and the introspection of experiences heard through the decades.
Nayda Ivette
7-27-2016
Original Poem Just Desserts
I was at my favourite restaurant and had a lovely meal
If I finished all my food then a pudding was the deal
I’d relished every morsel and was pleased as a Cheshire cat
The dessert menu was on its way, Oh I couldn’t wait for that
The waitress bought the menus and I rubbed my hands with glee
Oh sticky toffee pudding, now that’s the one for me
She came to take the order – we had waited as you do
She finally turned to me and said ‘oh Madam what can I get you’
Oh stiffy cockie pudding please was my swift reply
I didn’t realise what I’d said till I saw the tears form in her eye
I went as red as a beetroot and the others began to laugh
At my spoonerism which turned into a complete gaffe
The pudding it came quickly but I couldn’t wait to leave
I choked on every mouthful and my stomach it did heave
So please take notice of my error on this horrendous day
If you order sticky toffee pudding be careful what you say!
2nd February 2014
This was my first poem posted here and was is my first poem to be published in a book by United Press
Response Poem to Just Desserts
When I read my ‘Just Desserts’ poem, oh I made such a gaffe
I am petrified it will happen again and everyone will laugh
At home I have been practicing the correct words I have to say
To order sticky toffee pudding again will really make my day
We still go to this local restaurant for a tasty treat
I love the food they serve, it’s a lovely place to eat
But when its time to choose my dessert then I begin to shake
After my terrible Spoonerism I can’t make the same mistake
I smile sweetly at the waitress who comes to take my choice
Then clear my throat gently so I have a steady voice
I want to order sticky toffee pudding, the dessert of my dream
But I chicken out at the last minute and order an ice cream!
Contest - A response to My First Poem
Sponsored by Silent One
09~27~15
In trepidation the guest enters
done is the signing up part
now to find their way around
reading the poems of others
checking around the site
nervous and a little unsure
they finally post their first poem
and down swoops an angel of mercy
Gently taken by the hand
the new poet finds a friend
and is made to feel so welcome
things not understood explained
Gentle encouragement to take part
they are shown if they comment
many will comment back and greet
and so a new poet absorbs and grows
Adding their own unique flavour
to the bubbling cauldron of words
all this only made possible
by Linda, Skat and Anne our greeters
written 02/05/2014
contest: Skat's A Special Valentine note address