Long Firsts Poems
Long Firsts Poems. Below are the most popular long Firsts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Firsts poems by poem length and keyword.
How dim memories can slip away.
The decades of life highlighted in our thoughts
Sifting through the large colander
Of daily happenstance.
Leaving very few past images that can bring us gentle peace.
Only special celebrations can we access.
Moments of a wedding day
The first child's birth
So many firsts
are sealed away and hopefully stored
Safely within our minds.
A child's birth,
A newborn's first cry.
There are so many firsts that jumble and crumble
Seeking a place on memories first call.
We seek to remember everything every day.
A beloved Christmas
A happy birthday
The anticipation of all life ahead.
Blend into the years that are the journey of life.
We are distressed when the memory has faded and gone
Into the dark recesses of thoughts that are stored
Away from our recall, away from our grasp.
We vaguely remember these lost treasured images, but
The shadow of the joy felt remains.
It seems such a cruel joke of our creator's design,
As our memories slip past us when we are old
And life becomes quiet and we are alone.
No one seeks our company.
Our time is now empty and devoid
of the busy appropriation
life once threw our way.
Confused, we seek affirmation
That our time was well spent.
Successfully, with purpose and honor.
And painfully grieve
That memories vanish like smoke in the wind.
Grieve not these years of quiet and rest.
Wrap yourself in the warm shawl of abiding.
Believe and rejoice.
Your mansion awaits.
Built by the crowns you have won
Your race is not over
It has just begun.
Mary Kate Marozas
October 16, 2021
In 1999, my youngest son, Josh was born
He was clingy, difficult, a bit sickly,
but delightful, had the biggest grin,
and loved to laugh
And the world dimmed in May of 2025 when he died
My world, my heart and our family broke into a million
pieces. Our family is each searching for their own pieces,
but I am confident we will stand together, but how do we move on?
The holidays took me down this year and we still have lots of firsts to go,
the first thing I learned was how to breathe through the pain
and the second was to accept help, whether I asked for it or not,
and the third was that God has got me no matter what.
That should have been the first thing I learned, but sometimes the body
functions more automatically than the heart.
Sometimes I wonder if I still have a heart, because it feels so numb.
I can feel it beating in my chest, and I am still alive, so it is still there.
But what is my place in the world now? I have job that is important to me,
I have an amazing family, and I have incredible friends and I have words
Sometimes the words flow freely, but sometimes they clog up,
but they help me to express what I don't express often:my profound GRIEF!
I love you Josh, and my world was blessed when you arrived 3/19/99 and I
did indeed cherish every moment of being your mother, even the years
wracked with mental illness and self medicating. But I LOVE YOU,
no matter what, always and forever! Love, MOM!
In my twilight years I have grown silver,
weaved inside my hair and aging thoughts.
It reminds me of the first time I saw a star
beneath the first aurora hint of a bran new dawn;
All the firsts of my life have been sifted
like panned up gold between my fingers
Sieved through, held brief and then let go
inside this aging heart the memory remains ;
I once was ever altered like the shades of my hair
today I'm much more constant and alert
as I watch the passing storm from my window
I feel like a lamp post blazing in the snow
Lit up at dusk and closed after dawn
I feel like an iron metal post, though I am water,
holding up a dam of love inside my soul,
for all the ones I love, loved and continue to love.
Your Vienna
"Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower
We will grieve not, but rather find
Strength in what remains behind."
Wordsworth
~ ~
Youth is wild and quick to tears
Discovering firsts, and thirsts unknown
And love can wound the urgent heart
that is littered deep with countless fears.
She lost her grip upon the oars
to navigate the tender years.
A climb too steep, a love too deep
the depth would troll depression years
The tears of anguish broke the grip
of nineteen hundred, twenty six
The pairing of such fragile bliss was broken in defeat
There are a few who love too much ...
They shatter in the glow
We stood apart and watched it all
We watched the paths of two who loved,
still pondering now, of what might have been
but learned to see how time can bend,
and change the story's end ~
"Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower"
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"Movie Mania-Romance" Contest
Inspired by the movie "Splendor In The Grass" 1961
Starring Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty
Sponsor: Nicola Byrne
9/16/16
I opened an old tin box of a Christmas cake today
Paper fossils of every time someone thought of me
There, beneath folded letters
And random doodles of me
I found a placard
A relic of my very special first MUN
from a world of suits and speeches
All firsts are always irreplaceable firsts
“Saw you after a long time,
so please speak more.”
Who knew
two simple sentences could hold
the weight of four years’ worth of his reckless affection
"Saw u after a long time"
he wrote, as if the distance
between meetings could be measured
in silence he wished I’d fill.
And one day
I’ll speak more.
Not about global crises
or foreign policies
but about a girl
who kept a small piece of cardboard
safe in a tin box
because a suitable boy
finally asked her to talk.
I’ll speak more
not because he asked,
but because I finally want
to hear what his silence holds
all the shy pauses,
the swallowed sentences,
the nervous little hopes
he’s been too soft to say out loud.
And I think of 2025
A year which turned tiny moments into fireworks
that still crackle in my memories
A year which felt like soft sunlight on a winter afternoon
But if time were kind enough
to loop back once more,
there are moments I would reshape:
I’d speak a little more,
hesitate a little less,
I’d keep fewer words locked in my chest,
say the things I was too young
or too scared to say.
~Nilashree
For All My Firsts
Kevin Davis 2024
You gave me my first kiss,
soft as a feather light.
You gave me my first hug,
that made the world feel right.
You dried away my teardrops,
you chased away my fears.
You showed me how to giggle,
and smiled between my tears.
You knew just when I needed
a cuddle or a song.
You taught me to be gentle,
you taught me right from wrong.
You cheered for all my first steps,
you clapped for all my tries.
You helped me find my courage,
and dream up to the skies.
For every “first” I’ve ever had,
from morning until night—
It’s always you, dear Mom,
who made my world so bright.
i was seven the day they knocked —
“can we play with the spanish girls?”
yaphia and tarita,
smiling like the sun outside our door.
mama laughed,
said “spanish girls?”
because yaphia’s father was puerto rican too.
and that was the start -
the start of everything.
we held each other like secrets -
first periods, first kisses, first heartbreaks,
all the firsts we whispered into the walls.
we cut class, we laughed, we cried,
we failed, we succeeded,
we survived.
there were things no one said out loud -
but we carried them all the same,
in glances, in silence,
in the way Fire looked when no one was watching,
in the way Tarita’s smile flickered just before the storm.
we’re mothers now,
with children and husbands and lives that pull us apart,
but when we meet -
time folds.
no distance, no years,
just the same three girls
with the same unspoken pact.
whatever secret needs telling,
we tell.
whatever joy needs celebrating,
we celebrate.
no questions asked.
no judgment given.
we are more than what tried to break us.
we are the mothers, the sisters, the keepers of light
who never forgot how to hold each other.
we carry each other still -
in laughter, in tears, in the spaces between.
and i love you, girls,
more than words in this letter can hold.
thank you for being my safe place -
then, now, always.
So tonight we discuss time
The struct that constantly cons
It’s dutiful meander into the yet
It’s basically elongated counting
Never very good with numb bears
All the realities I hope there is one that isn’t
So time
How long is a moment
How short is a life
The dust.from the mountains creating the next
Are we the only ones who count
Humanity is really up itself
Seconds are first
Sow why don’t call them the firsts
How many almosts and ifs
When does past become the present
Would everything happen at the same time without its touch
This time
My answer to what time do you call this
Now always seems to fly past
Look for the future
Missing the right now
Moving along in the heat
That has defined my life
I don’t believe I’m done
Cut my throat beside my empty words
I saw your face deep inside a thought
Reminds me of the battles we once fought
And the lesson that I had been taught
That I still try to pretend isn’t there
But it seems as though it’s almost been a century
A hundred years since I’ve married the thief
But it could not matter much to me
Since my prayers traveled on hot dead air
Moving along in the heat
That has defined these wars
There’s just no way I’m done
Spill my blood to wash these empty words
I’m only brave when you’re far away
To fantasize about my way
But I see it coming, I can see the day
Where I can walk without my fear of you
If you came running, I can’t say what I’d do
To take you back or stay away from you
I know I gave my firsts to you
But I’ve got my pride to help me through
Moving along in this heat
That will define my past
I can’t say when I’ll be done
Take my life to birth these empty words
Take my hand, it’s gonna be a rough ride
Through passion, and all the things you made me hide
My brain is twisting and my sight is clearing
And my memory’s dimming and I can’t see what I’m fearing
Moving along in this heat
Forever defining
I think I’m almost done
Born again inside these empty words
Moving along in this heat
It’s all I’ve ever known
I pray I’m almost done
Speaking once again these empty words
the Buzz, Collins, Armstrong, applause.
first man, there were three
earthlings who were projected into space.
crowded, not of this world
of celebration and glory.
before lights flashing, attention-demanding.
mission impossible, a presser.
to the moon, but dry
in the throat.
watch the hands, fiddling with papers,
sooth-petting. not practiced
in speech; not 2024 peak.
lights out in black box - perhaps
the famous astronauts
imagine they’re back in space,
clear from prying eyes
as they turn attention to the somewhere screen.
In 2024, we’re bored
because we’ve learned to be entertained
at fast speed, not stuttering-suspended
in animation. fine fellows, firsts
paved the way to now - history-bound.
funny photo caused levity,
liftoff of audience lightened
the payload. next up,
Buzz in blue,
looks directly at the crowd,
hands in pounce mode.
fight or flight, so apropos.
Neil continues, more comfortably explaining,
after his two constituents calmed the waters.
later the moon will peer down
in the night sky.
today kids don’t dream
of flight, they fly
effortlessly through the skies
and little Einsteins
is not impossible in their eyes.
but back in 1969
a sleepy me, just 8,
witnessed the first moon landing.