Long Folder Poems
Long Folder Poems. Below are the most popular long Folder by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Folder poems by poem length and keyword.
In home room that morning
I found the folded letter on my desk
informing me of my election
to the National Honor Society
Quite a thing for the 11th grade,
I later found. Perhaps even
more for a stumbling over-achiever
on some redemption road.
There had been earlier letter...
one sent home in Junior High by a man
named Yonkee, who wrote my mother
of an academic malaise in my DNA
that was most certain to inform my future.
I remember her pleading face as she read
me his verdict. And so, that 11th grade afternoon
I stopped for the mail on my way from the bus,
subtly stuffing my honorarium in the stack
That second letter is still in my desk somewhere
filed away in a folder labeled True Best Day.
Mary Jane passed some eighteen months
after my delivery, and that vanished
world now seems so remotely mine,
but her faith is summoned, sometimes,
these later days when Yonkees of the world
--see right through me--
A beautiful night
In the blue skies I die
Why I try to better your cries
A beautiful night
In the truth I strive
For what I realize
In this beautiful night
A halo of dreams
It all comes to end
And when my balance offends
My decisions to blend
There is no escape to pend
Whether or whether not I bend
To mend with days of disbelief
The failures I achieve to circulate and lead
The hemp around my neck may bleed
And when I have found my peace, I leave
Keep my determination at my sleeves
The facts at the end of my beard I scratch
My spirit and soul seem to be at a mitch-match
At twenty-two it’s a catch
The cache is you’re twenty-two
Which means it resides within you
The memories of the holidays I wished to pursue
Broken news is nothing new
Ever shall I do
Emotions are a motive
Purposely affiliated with going unnoticed
When on all your desires you seem to only focus
And against the wind
You assume you can maneuver some hocus pocus
To become a Brutus locust
You assume you can shoulder us
Out of proportion you can only folder trust
Hold out for a colder thrust
I told her I must
Her own passion out sold her for lust
It's nice to know you still do
I thought that you had stopped
Many sleepless nights were had
I worried quite a lot
I thought of going someplace far
To let you be alone
While all the time I'd quietly
Be waiting by the phone
I know I'm too dramatic
Deleting things at will
But love you? I'm emphatic
Calm down my heart, be still
Patience, lots of patience
It's not an easy thing
To want my little bluebird now
And long to hear her sing
I'll follow what you're doing
I'll store my thoughts away
In a temporary folder
Marked, "Open Me Someday"
Please give me time, I'll get there
Though sometimes I might say
"Goodnight my J, I love you"
Just telling you, I may
Embrace and kiss the abstract abyss…
Because I can’t be the only one that sees colors that whirl around me
Gravity-bound………
Trying to delete the pain in this heart of stone,
feeling like an emotional mess
It doesn’t matter what you say or do…
I ain’t gonna hate you…
Even if I’m on stage,
I still feel like the spotlight unveils the loneliness
It doesn’t matter if I’m sick with the love flu…
missing you out of the blue…
I don’t want to live this life without you
But, this heart of stone has broke in two
The moment you turned the cold shoulder
At the end of the night, I am as empty as a useless folder
I store the pictures of you in my memory
In my memory
In my memory
Trying to delete the pain in this heart of stone,
feeling like an emotional mess
It doesn’t matter what you say or do…
I ain’t gonna hate you…
Even if I’m on stage,
I still feel like the spotlight unveils the loneliness
It doesn’t matter if I’m sick with the love flu…
missing you out of the blue…
I won’t be afraid and I bid you a farewell
So, they say they can’t set free a broken heart like mine…
I wanna flee from the reality of losing touch of you
Unfortunately, you left my side and changed your plans on me
Hello, halo of midnight
G’bye, butterfly made of sunlight
Glitter, baby, glitter….
Don’t be so bitter….
I’m under the roof of my parent’s apartment
If only you knew who I was inside and out…unlock me from the chains of resentment……feeling like the unique items in the far right department
But, I’ll rest and obey my father…
remember to love one another….
7/20/19
"I'll be your Joker"
Still a registered voter
Signed up to be an organ donor
And finally became a car owner
I rarely use a controller
When it's time, I'll man up and buy a stroller
As well as panels that are solar
Near and far from areas that are polar
Doesn't matter if I ever get a Range Rover
Or Roadster
I'm barely ever sober
Always been a loner
And stoner
3 months away from another October
If you want to be my Harley Quinn, I'll be your "Joker"
Not no poser
Where are you Scully? This is agent Mulder
Anytime you want, I'll be your shoulder
To lean on
From here to way beyond
For eons
Where's my Marge? I am Homer
I'll be your rock over and over
Since I've gotten nobler
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder
I've seen it so much, I could compile a folder
Life's one giant rollercoaster
It's really revving my motor
All these women giving me a b***r
And then the cold shoulder
As if I am an ogre
I remain a soldier
Drinking high end coffee, no more Folgers
Getting wiser and older
Becoming bolder
As the world gets colder
I'm not feeling dolor
Just multi tasking, while a fire continues to smoulder
Maintaining my composure
Finding closure
Getting closer
To greatness instead of being mediocre
I enjoyed the work I did with several growers
As well as trapping some gophers
Occasionally I'll partake in poker
Even though I'm not the best hoaxer
Once or twice I used a fire stoker
When it came to Mary Jane, I was a doter
A fan of it's fragrance, it's not what I'd call an odor
I consume some products made by Clover
And am usually in places considered remoter
It's time I get a toaster and holster
I don't really need a Flame Thrower
Or to get my face on a most wanted poster
Suit yourself if you want to wear a boater
Or choker
Houses in continual foreclosure
Not always wise to go for the price that is lower
Someday my mind and body will be slower
And one day it'll all be over
10-4 over and out
And now you know, what i'm really about
Not just by word of mouth
As they say don't look a gift horse in the mouth
Regardless of if you had your doubts
By: Dalton Ogletree
It’s a great exaggeration
Which I never understand
Why is it deemed an immigration
To spend a week in their land?
Just to see their homes and grass
Their gardens and the trees
But it seems they cannot grasp
The idea that it’s me
Lil’ old me who’s not a nation
But an owner of my mind
Stamped by generalization
That I never need to bind
I might be their mean projection
Thrown into the litter bin
A distorted strange reflection
Mirrored in the darkened screen
Brought my bank account statement
But it didn't work this time
There was no source of savings
Application was declined
Got the letter in spam folder
Their email made my day
They protected their border
And for this I had to pay
So goodbye the V&A
Farewell, The Leaping Horse
There’s no place around to stay
‘Cause my savings have no source
I was silly, they were stupid
But the right was on their side
It cost me two thousand quid -
I think highly of mankind!
living in snow-capped Boulder was Mrs. G. Golder
Her personality persnickety and colder
fourteen juicy pepper jack cheeseburgers would not hold her
Six candy bars too, Mrs. Molder whispered to my pal Soldier
Mrs. Molder was a snoopy neighbor of Golder
None of us ventured to guess which crone was older
Their birth certificates flagged inside a red folder
Kept by the F.B.I. in weather that was colder
What’s your guess? My sister asked, nudging my shoulder
I guessed Mrs. Molder, but my sister argued it was Mrs. G. Golder
To find the answer, we broke into the F.B.I. office in Boulder
Discovered they were twins; it was unclear which one was older.
...“I suppose that this just makes you
like everyone else on this earth,
light and shadow both in your soul,
your choice as to which you deserve.
“Some might say that the man you were
is really your ‘authentic self,’
but then again that man you were
put countless people through sheer hell.
“I know what choice I would prefer,
but that is a choice I can’t make…
Just know, if you choose your old ways,
you’ll soon be a guest of the state.”
He said nothing more after that,
just left Jack the scattered folder.
Jack sat there quite incredulous,
his mind racing in a great blur.
His memories were not his own?
His life belonged to another?
He saw his past in the pictures,
but it felt like something other…
Was this what he was meant to be?
A scumbag who had left lives wrecked?
Was this now nightmare, or quite real?
He did not know what to do next…
The Office
There are at least a dozen people waiting.
They are in various degrees of need.
Desperate for answers…
“They” will not receive here.
But the very idea,
of a cure,
of something better.
Draws them on.
The woman at the front,
gathers names,
faces are not important.
She takes your cards, and makes copies.
To be sent to the pile, the folder…
Of those that are sick, ill and unwell.
You do not want to be part…
of any of it.
You do not want to be.
But the very idea,
of a cure,
of something better
Draws all.
They call a name,
a response is given,
no one looks up to see.
Shuffle noises to the back room.
A couch, a needle, a pill,
temporary relief,
only a shade of
reality.
As the door opens,
and freedom to “be” is returned.
A lady hands out a piece of paper…
You… we, they… can read it later.
But the very idea,
of a cure,
of something better,
a gift, a Savior from Sin,
real…reality.
The end.
Along the glass of a lazy stroll,
The jar popped open the doctor,
Or so I thought, ‘cos attachment,
Honour and protection was proctor.
Amis of gel, congruence and ear,
No disk did move my larynx clear,
Undue was the throat inside instead,
Which elongated my sinews head.
The cerebral hemispheres dance,
To reason’s sediments glance,
The axiom nuclei of radius fodder,
Taxonomic from a cooling splatter.
But my chair collapsed, was rejected,
And my sweated foot bounced unsaid,
Four legs not two around about, head
Their arms detached from pout affected.
Oh the seventies did collide and mix,
With solemnity’s roles and grades,
Under the blankness of the stare,
Came the tare that ripped unaware.
Contingent upon my father’s books,
Magic cards and imagery games,
My piano, pencil drawings, TV flicks,
Starwars did not renegade flames.
Not continent upon the bible black,
Therefore not continent upon the kin,
So not deluded or emotional, gone,
Won the neighbours hearts, pimm, grin.
Silence comes upon the beholder,
Not upon the glancer to extract,
When friends and lovers folder,
The broken heart that stays intact.
Knight the darkness, loon the light,
Put the bedding out into the light,
Bring the muscle into view as stringy,
To by the pound shift the loofah pingy.
Medicine’s chalice guilds the sweep,
Of the dopamine in inner scales,
But when the neurones skirt fit ham,
An ombudsman should call it maam.