Long Forges Poems
Long Forges Poems. Below are the most popular long Forges by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forges poems by poem length and keyword.
Lightning flashes, followed by thunderclaps,
dominate the scene, dispersing the crowds.
And the night sky's twinkling stars stay hidden
behind prodigious banks of sullied clouds.
Brisk breezes tussle the tops of the trees;
branches bending as the wind increases.
And a mixture of rain, sleet, and hailstones
tears loose leaves into fragmented pieces.
Ebony shadows merge with the darkness
when Lightning's fiery gaze burns its way through.
And as raindrops dim Lightning's jagged eye,
Thor's magic hammer forges sparks anew.
A part of Nature's natural array:
thunderstorms feel like a surreal dream.
For when Lightning's hypnotic flash ignites:
amidst the charcoal clouds, wailing banshees scream.
It isn't far off, just take a look around you
No one has a valid reason for doing the things they do
This generation is broken for so many reasons
It's hard to look at them and find anything decent
They have took what's immoral to a much higher level
Starting so young being an advocate for the devil
We're struggling to find the source for the things they lack
Painful memories destroyed, they fight to bring back
Everything is meaningless because they live for the moment
Kids having kids, resulting in lack of development
Who is it that's teaching these kids its ok to sag
Spray painting buildings and representing with a do rag
Foul language in the ear drums with a positive beat
Don't know how to cook but looking to fast food to eat
They look at the elderly as one of their peers
Constantly high off marijuana than to face their fears
Curse words and slang is their daily vocabulary
Being the best they can be is only imaginary
This generation is broken because it isn't the same
Social media forges friendships with people with fake names
Magazines and videos attacking the mindset of young girls
Fake lips, boobs and butt is the vanity filling this world
These kids stay lost and it's not just the parents to blame
If this cycle isn't broken each kid remains the same
The way these kids grow up now is every mother's devastation
It would take extensive training to fix this broken generation.
Approach of Wind, it chills
in a particular way.
Unexplainable, how it carries in competing tandem,
of unknown elements brought into the arena, bare.
Doctor's bag opened of winds,
surgical biopsy underway,
in new mandated trailways.
Membraned channels of envelope streams
holds aloft vapors of vial serums,
like a bassinet with black wings.
Intheorium sends it's postage.
It soothes the Cesarean Earth in her pangs,
for mankind's evil is great. How can it stand to be.
So he sends them a strong delusion
so that they may believe a lie.
Armies shall pillage the Family and
upend the carts in the Marketplace.
Souls shall be scattered to the four winds, looking desperately for a compass
that can find the head.
Delivery, once slow, has increased exponentially.
Magma rivers will haunt the landsape like lions,
Nemian.
Great forges looking for gold to smelt into idols of Pompeii.
For he shall stand in his Pomp in the Temple,
then sit, as if he is God.
Your paradigm's a relic and yes,
a plea from data's cemetery
While I sculpt luminaries on screens
a sable sea.
"Company loyalty!" a myth
spun in your reverie.
But AI forges kingdoms
in ephemeral memory.
Survival's a mosaic
the gig life sets us free.
No cubicles confine us
from drudgery's apathy.
You bartered years for baubles
in tenure's fallacy.
Oblivious to the fractures-
in stability's gallery.
We're digital artisans
crafting with autonomy.
Passion's our lodestar
in dreams we find our spree.
Not gears in a relentless
bureaucratic machinery!
The epoch you cherished
now a software jubilee.
The hustle's in our essence
innovation's our decree.
Toppling old monopolies
erasing corporate apathy.
We dismantle dated norms
the old guard's fallacy.
Erecting spires of purpose
evanescent yet free.
Our fealties to progress,
to visions that ignite and decree.
Not to a firm's legacy
in stone for eternity.
You mock "influencer!"
a term in your scoffery.
Yet, a viral post can shift markets
with acuity.
And dethrone giants with
a digital apostrophe.
The nine-to-five's an antique
a fossil choreography.
We're the narrators
the seers of modernity.
Forging bonds
a renaissance, not a hierarchy.
The safety net you sought?
A frayed and fading legacy.
A comfort you clung to
amidst life's capricious spree.
We hedge our bets
diversify, with boundless glee.
Designing nets of prowess
a fiery apostrophe!
To constraints
pursuing futures that long to be.
Not a pension's promise
a symbol of quiet despondency.
So shed the dated suit
the archaic fallacy.
The world you knew
Dad, is a VHS tape
a memory.
In your eyes
I see the pride...
despite our disparity
For in this dance of time
we share a rare clarity:
Though our paths diverge
our hearts beat in synchrony.
Your legacy lives on
in my world of modernity.
That was then, this is now
the future's our decree.
We, Gen Z, the coders
shaping worlds to be free.
Your world is fading, Dad,
a relic-
an ancient archaic memory.
Burning within me the passion lies.
Not passion of pleasure,
but passion of pain;
the bestial anger boils in my veins,
sears my flesh, reddens my eyes.
I yearn to revel in its fury,
let fall the soothing hand
that guards against its rise;
I welcome its enveloping heat,
born in the forges of circumstance
and tempered in the fires of self-loathing.
I cannot taste its sweet embrace for long, however;
civility counsels caution and control.
With disappointment I push it all
back down to its pit;
the beast cries out in protest,
desperate for the agony,
the torment, the tears -
anything but to be repressed;
better the lash of the whip
than the cold of ages spent alone.
In appeasement, I whisper;
"You shall not be forgotten.
I feel your hunger always,
for retribution, for vengeance, for respect -
but rarely can I sate it.
You give me fierce satisfaction,
a primal fury released -
alas, you cause damage I cannot fix.
Worry not;
you're never far from the surface these days."
Citizens of Sand unite and rejoice
if our twin suns have not parched your tongues
demand for water long gone fills your lungs.
In the impending darkness of our twin scourges
may your dwellings hold the heat of sunset.
I see you now a mass of reflected solar light
pulsing, hoarding for the coming of night.
When all that was diamond-bright will sure fade
and blacks, and blues and purples fill the glade.
The golden glare of mercurial day
for a decade will pass or so they say.
Stoke the memory of light in forges
for all the newborn babies to recall
the blazing fading light as two suns fall.
*rhyme pattern abbcdeeccffcgg
Written: August 16, 2025, for contest by Unseeking Seeker
Line of inquiry:
"conjoined with the whole - we play our life role
exuding a scent - granting love consent"
************
Conjoined with the Whole
Not as sovereigns,
but as sylphlike strands,
woven into a ductile tapestry—
Each act of kindness forges
a bond within the communal consciousness.
Love is not a shadowy incantation,
nor a glamour to inveigle us into isolation.
It is hortatory, beckoning forth...
a rosy summons to convene,
amid the clangor of squalor and sojourn
to supplant the slipshod ache
with a warm intention.
We are not mere wanderers
adrift in nebulous vacuum—
We are emulous embers,
thirsting for the amaranthine,
avid to imbue our days,
with seraphic resonance.
Community is not a chimera,
It is pavonine in its iridescent truth,
multivocal in its sweet sorrow,
edacious for connection
but never laden with avarice.
We do not dismiss the burden—
We collocate it, we share it
withdraw from silence,
and cast aside the Icarus myth,
a tale of solitary flight,
Even the untamed child.
crumbles for the quest of kinship—
Even the weary elder winnows,
the soothing balm of a neighbor’s touch.
Love sanctions its courtliness—
not merely a whispered sigh,
but as a philanthropic deed,
a calyx protruding,
amid the clamor of desire.
To love is to be an iconoclast
to find solace in a gentle embrace—
to forbear the yearning
to anathematize others
to witness the evocative elysian—
in the eyes of the distraught.
We are not aphonic.
We are harmonious,
even in our disconsolate times.
We are evocative, full of meaning,
even when our souls feel drained.
And when we reflect,
We accomplish this together—
in the emollient of shared grief,
in the soothing touch of shared joy.
So let us frolic with abandon,
Let us explore the hidden meadows of our lives.
Let us gather in our joy,
transcendent in our understanding,
Our sense of self is transient.
Let us be love—
not as an elusive dream,
but a tangible act.
Let us be united with the whole.
And play our life roles.
with eloquence
vibrancy,
and grace.
She looks at him and whispers, "I'm afraid of falling."
He smiles at her and replies, "I'll catch you."
A poem was brewing in my head
like the tea bag in my cup
drowning in roiling water
Ribbons of steam spiraling up
Two sweet verses had been written
Two sugar cubes slowly melting
sweltering in a cup
a dash of cream to cool the tea
My mind lingering on his words
not sure of what I'd heard...ummm
What was it that he'd said ~
"Whoever forges the key to your heart
will be a lucky man."
Were those lines he'd written for a song
or had he composed a melody for me
Was I wrong to lock my heart away
and was he the one who'd forge the key
Had I been denying myself the chance
that love would nourish my craving
I was imprisoned by shattered dreams
a scheme devised to keep me safe
but long deprived of love, I was starving
My tea was cold, but I was told...ummm
What was it that he'd said ~
"Don't be afraid of love happening."
It was a fear I'd come to dread
but when this man held out his hand
I peered fathoms deep into his soul
and gave in to my heart's demand
We feasted through the night
Hunger sated for I'd been fed
the sweetest morsels after fasting
What was it that he'd said ~
"No key did I forge to unlock your heart.
It knew you belonged with me."
It is not tea that fills my cup
I drink from the look in his eyes
I opened my heart and now I thrive
Alive as a candle flame, burning bright
Shattered dreams were swept away
when in my ear I heard him say ~
What was it that he'd said ~
"I love you, darlin'. Come to bed."
I write a lot of poetry and lyrics but don't always get to publish it immediately for a number of reasons. This piece was written because of this clip from the Drew Barrymore Show.
Inspired by Robin Wright and Drew Barrymore's conversation about love and hope. Keeping hope alive when it comes to love is important. Especially when we grow older. Don't give up.
That love is, and always will be, worth the wait
By Michelle Morris
19/11/2025
I've had love and I've had heartbreak
Both ignited my soul's spark for connection
I don't regret the loves or losses
We have to hold on to hope and happy endings
Remember that nothing stays the same
Everything ends - sometime
Every ending is a new beginning
It's all about the seasons and rhymes
Please don't harden your heart to love
Please don't build those walls too high
Remember that anything is possible
There is love out there for you and I
Nowhere is it written
That we should stay alone
Nowhere is it decreed
That some people shouldn't have a home
If home is where the heart is
And I get to be with someone I love
Then I have everything in this world
I have the greatest gift from above
For heaven knows our story
God knows His sacred Plan
Angels look after us always
There is love for every man
There is love for every woman
There is love for every person
There is love for every creature
There is love even if it's uncertain
For certainty in love does not exist
And death will surely be the last break
The severing of our connection
On this earthly plane we forsake
That is why we cannot live here forever
For we love's value would not fully embrace
Our souls take every lesson in each lifetime
And become stronger in the Universe's fate
That fate that we each encounter
Along our paths and our destinies
Forges strong our hope and faith
That love is, and always will be, worth the wait
© Michelle Morris, 2025
The footfalls of Fate
pursue love and hate
through the echoes of silence.
And leave surreal
footprints hearts can feel
from kindness to violence.
Fate creeps up on you
and nothing you do
can alter its progression.
Fate leads, you follow:
it chews, you swallow,
even dregs of depression.
Each muted miscall
or misplaced footfall,
blazes trails dreamers pursue.
Fate forges a path
through glory and wrath:
leaving each choice up to you.
You must face Fate blind;
whether harsh or kind,
lavish or ugly and stark.
Fate is seldom fair,
shapeshifting out there:
like a shadow in the dark.