Long Forever Poems
Long Forever Poems. Below are the most popular long Forever by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forever poems by poem length and keyword.
Parents methods, a question asked
Mothers rule one, questions, answers forthcoming
Fathers think they are kings of the family domain
As said previously see rule one if ever questioned
Mothers watched from afar so proud of her Children
My Father dealt with life as fun
Ruffled hair, winked when complimenting
A show you how, the way to learn kind of Dad
His shed a place of wonder and colour
Full of budgies and canaries chirping
My job, change water and feed the song birds
Dad loved woodworking, left-over skill from seafaring
Most evenings, sounds of his music would lead me to him
A ukulele a banjo and accordions on show
Sea shanties sang low and slow
His Spanish guitar his pride and joy
I sat at his feet but never learned his music skills
A quiet life is all he asked for
No hugs no shake of the hands, his smile and wink sufficed
One cold and wet Welsh morning
A railway station the final farewells were given
Goodbyes were said, a son was leaving the family fold
A land far away called Australia, offered a fresh start in life
Mothers tears flowed; Dad just stood in silence
Our eyes showed our emotions
"Will I see you again" his only words
We stood face to face, both lost in the moment
A shake of the hand brought smiles to our faces
Dads emotions always kept under control
Despite his smile, tears were running down his face
Mother held her grandchildren close
Her thoughts, scoop them up and take them home
Her eyes showed questions never asked
My Mothers final hugs were full of warmth
The scent of her perfume with me forever
The train was ready to leave, London town its first destination
Sydney Australia here we come
The railway station platform now deserted
Empty spaces waiting to greet other travelers
In chambers lit by candle's glow,
A sculptor stands, with brow alight,
Where visions grand begin to flow,
From marble cold, a form takes flight.
With hammer's tap and chisel's grace,
He breathes life In chambers lit by candle's glow,
A sculptor stands, with brow alight,
Where visions grand begin to flow,
From marble cold, a form takes flight.
With hammer's tap and chisel's grace,
He breathes life into, a human face.
Like Michelangelo, with hands so sure,
He captures form in perfect lines,
A David bold, forever pure,
Or Venus fair, with form divine.
The sculptor's mind, a sacred well,
From which all beauty breaks its shell.
He tames the stone, its roughness fades,
Emerging smooth, a flawless guise,
Emotion etched, into light and shades,
A story told in sculpted sighs.
The mind's a kiln where beauty burns,
A Renaissance, each statue yearns. , a human face.
Like Michelangelo, with hands so sure,
He captures form in perfect lines,
A David bold, forever pure,
Or Venus fair, with form divine.
The sculptor's mind, a sacred well,
From which all beauty breaks its shell.
He tames the stone, its roughness fades,
Emerging smooth, a flawless guise,
Emotion etched, in light and shades,
A story told in sculpted sighs.
The mind's a kiln where beauty burns,
A Renaissance, each statue yearns.
He sang a song of love,
A forever yet to come.
A dream he painted with me as the only flower.
He told a tale,
One even I dared not dream,
Yet he wove it—with me, his one and only queen.
He took a rose and threw it away,
Said he didn’t need it,
For I was far more beautiful beyond measure.
And I believed.
He breathed,
And I blushed.
I fell, Deep into his eyes, oceans of blue.
He turned,
And I leaned,
Capturing his face, his smile, his frown,
Every fragment of him.
He sneezed,
And I oozed with the pain —
His was mine,
And his burdens, I was ready to bear.
Then roses bloomed again,
And a shadow of doubt crept in.
Was this all too good to be true?
So, I waited—
For a phone call?
A letter?
For the inevitable pain?
Seasons passed.
Winter came; he still loved.
Summer followed; his eyes held me the same.
' sigh'
Night fell,
And in his arms, he still held me.
l was scared.
I looked into his eyes,
His perfect silhouette, and l sank.
“A perfect man is always taken,” my mother had said.
So, I took my small bag,
Packed two dresses,
Closed the door.
The dream had to end.
I returned to my cave,
Far in the mountains,
Away from the lies they call love.
I lived there,
Staring at the stone walls,
Tossing, turning in the walls l trusted.
Believing I had left with dignity.
Yet something hollow ached inside,
The emptiness echoed,
loud enough my cave walls crumbled.
I descended the mountain,
And stumbled upon mourners.
They were sending off a man who loved.
A man who loved—
Through life, through death.
They lowered him into the ground.
They sank him into the earth,
And l remembered,
The summers and the winters.
I saw the face,
Of the man who loved till death.
He was handsome.
He had the silhouette of a king.
The king who sang a song,
A song of love.
A forever that was yet to come.
A forever l ran away from.
So, l sank,
And l cried, and regretted, and grieved.
Grieved to death.
And there we lay,
I as the Griever _ and He as the Lover.
“If you cannot be a poet, be the poem.” Quote_ by David Carradine
I Would Love You If You Were Not a Poet
I would love you if you were not a poet.
You were my yesterday
as the sun warmth melted to nothing
and said goodbye,
and the moon came up bent on showing
and allowing me to savor your shadow.
You are my today to fill my heart with love,
and you will be my tomorrow to relish.
The world was made anew
when I first laid eyes on you.
The dawns have risen
and still rise smiling so bright,
the coldness sneaks away in envy
as you are always against me
to give me warmth.
I breathe deep every morning
just to get the scent of you.
The sounds of the world are so joyful
when we walk hand in hand towards the world.
My head up high and proud
in suns embrace
when I'm next to you.
You were my yesterday.
You are my today.
And you will be my tomorrow.
Forever.
8/31/2023
I felt the flow of Summer's balmy breeze
as it wafted in whispers like sweet melodies
We walked on golden sands at twilight,
holding hands as day drifted into dusk.
I was savoring memories of
cherished moments we share.
Tonight, resplendent roseate skies
fill my eyes with their color,
but a bit of melancholy crept in
and unconsciously my steps slowed.
He felt my hesitation and in concern,
he held me close in his arms and said,
"What is that makes you so sad?
I can see it in the mists of your eyes."
Tears flowed as I fought to explain
the pain I'd feel in my heart if we drifted apart.
I stammered the words but got them out,
"We fell in love and vowed it would be for life
but even mountains of stone can break.
How would I live with that heartache?"
He rested his chin on top of my head
and held me tighter to stop my trembling.
Then, he said the most beautiful sentiments
I'd ever heard...
"Whether in this life or another,
no matter the realm we might be,
I promise I will find you beyond the stars,
searching every corner of ebony skies.
On moonlight's path I would swiftly sail
beseeching her to guide my way to you.
You will never be beyond my reach,
for only your kisses sate my hunger...
and only your love quenches my thirst."
He turned me to face the fading sun
as it slowly sank into the skyline.
Pointed his finger in that direction
and whispered near my ear...
"Do you see far out on the horizon,
where the sky drifts into the sea?"
If ever we're torn apart, look for me there.
I'll be a ripple on the water
or a glimmer of stardust in the sky,
searching for you until we're together again.
Have no fear of love's lament, for
our love was meant to last forever."
The moon's reflection shimmered on the sea
as he brushed his lips across mine in a fashion
that made passion's heat rise in my heart.
Each beat crashing as a wave upon the shore...
Beneath flickering stars, we stood side by side
swaying with the ebb and flow of evening tide.
Wordsmith's worst nightmare
fortunately thwarted courtesy
mine tall tale telling flair.
Mine irretrievable brilliant masterpiece...
all for naught after mental cogs and wheels
I did apply creative juice metaphorical grease
regarding tour de force pièce de résistance writing
forever lost to the annals of human history.
So much for escaping to paradise island
(Garden of Eden) and experiencing zen
Impossible mission to earn untold yen
concerning prosaic poem/ poetic prose titled
The old battleaxe and her henchwomen
irrecoverable linkedin to sinking feeling
hours, days, weeks... all spent for naught
dharma bum - me got doled out unfair
injustice though scoreboard (tabulating
when yours truly acted immoral) oddly even
Steven after I repented against
marital infidelities nearly cost priceless
paternal love of daughters, whereby
their father experienced
suicidal ideations thought
to drown his sorrows
overdosing on fen-phen.
A transcendent awakening
occurred within noggin of one simian
a clothed outlier caged within human zoo
predicated upon his overactive imagination
inextricably favorable ratings did woo,
albeit ephemerally savored renown, and true
value viz his great Magnus Opus,
whereby riches couped courtesy
brief brush with fame and glory
found countless people lined in queue
(and moment of morning glory
subsequently slipped
thru gnarly butter fingers
symptomatic of nervousness
exhibited courtesy an aspiring Nehru
case in point my pal Joey, a kangaroo
dear reader pardon
tardy greeting regarding helloo
cuz decided against formalities,
a nonestablishmentarian he doth eschew
no ghostly chance I merely utter boo!
Unlikely I scared
the living daylights out of you,
nor would that be intent
regarding self taught amateur
practitioner of voodoo
I rarely if ever cast spells,
nevertheless yours truly
still under probation
and peer review
so breathe easy, cuz Matthew
Scott Harris would hate
to tarnish reputation of Guru,
that charming humble fellow
he taught me wizardry.
Embracing YOU Lenore, is like touching the hem of the Universe
To gaze upon such “Elegant Beauty” ; Love creates an unquenchable Thirst
As I watch YOU : Waltzing across the Horizon : Climbing the Stars to Heaven
The Comet , Blushes : Red as Roses ; Nova dims : Cries : “ Y O U go First “
Remembrance of our Youth ; “ Exuberant LOVE “ Prevails upon my Mind
Your long Auburn Hair, tickles my Soul; In my HEART : Your Forever I Find
And I Dream of the Forest : as YOU Illuminate it with YOUR “Emerald green Eyes”
The Fern breathes Life; the leaves ENTWINE with Love Always : to which I am Blind
You gaze upon Lenore Your Heart does not skip a beat; You are not in Love as, I
A kiss upon Her “ rose Lips “ a kiss of Eternity” a Kiss I may never know until I Die
The encore that the Heart beats for, is the Overture of a Life Budding in GOD’S Grace
Lenore : with all of Heaven’s Love Surrounding YOU each Day an Image in my EYE
Mary and Micky were both widowed many years ago
Both had been happily married for decades to their childhood sweethearts
Each…. since spending many years alone
Believed and accepted love was not in their future charts
Their paths crossed when they frequented the same cafe every morning
Over time they began to chat
First… becoming great coffee buddies and friends
Later…much more than that
Micky asked Mary for her hand in marriage
They had fallen deep in love
Mary accepted his proposal
Together forever until heaven above
Mary though had a major concern
Something she needed to tell Mickey before they wed
Something that was troubling her terribly
Completely consuming her head
She sat Mickey down and began to tell him
“Mickey…marrying me comes with an element of surprise”
Mickey looked concerned and puzzled
Due to the tears that had welled in her eyes
“Mickey….As an older woman things in my body have changed over the years”
“Certain actions at times, l can no longer control”
“Sometimes and only sometimes…when l cough or sneeze “
“I involuntarily do a little wee or a bottom blow”
Mickey stared at Mary with a blank look on his face
Then burst into loud laughter
“Mary ,oh my sweet Mary…l too am the same”
“So ,we can wee and bottom blow together…. forever after!”
Why should I bother if the sun should die,
The darkness reign and drain away the air?
Because ev’n Eden’s garden in the sky
Would turn to barren hell without you there.
Why should I be concerned about tomorrow,
How many gruesome months and years have passed?
Without your breath, I’m drowned in waves of sorrow
And feel as though it would forever last.
You are the gears and screws that synchronize
The flaming circulation in my veins,
A clockwork heart, where fiery passions rise,
Yet tightly bound by love’s unyielding chains.
Oh please, my dear, do not leave me alone!
I love you more than any heart has known.
If I could paint November
would I paint it brown or gray,
or the deepest shade of burnt umber
to announce that Winter's on its way?
How do you paint a time of year
that left Summer far behind,
and left October standing in the cold
would you paint it selfish or unkind?
How do you paint the North Wind
as it rushes through the trees,
or the magic of a whirlwind
stirring a thousand decaying leaves?
And could you paint the night sky
with its crispness and its chill?
For it would take a thousand shades of blue
and a thousand more shades still.
And how do you paint the water
flowing through an ice-choked stream?
Gainsboro? Silver? Spanish Gray?
Or hues of a Xanadu dream?
And how do you paint the blur of geese
flying southward from the cold,
as they hasten their journey to find a place
where the sun is forever gold.
And how do you paint the shivering haze
hovering eerily over the land?
Is it a silvery mist? An atmospheric blush?
Or part of Nature's gray sleight-of-hand?
Yes, how you do paint November?
What secret does anyone know?
And what do you use for the canvas?
The white of a fresh early snow?
copyright © 2019 Gregory Firlotte