Long Found Poems
Long Found Poems. Below are the most popular long Found by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Found poems by poem length and keyword.
It is because I’m colored bright red
that I was chosen for their homestead.
Initially, I was quite well tended
but such care eventually ended.
Sure, their attention remains constant
but it's rarely from a cleaning solvent.
I love a scrubbing; I always want it.
My service is constantly required ...
clearly, it will be until I’m expired.
Hot, cold, old, fresh, mild or bold –
my people lack any quality control.
Despite my ceaseless working roll,
they fuss at me when I overflow.
Secretly, I enjoy their anxiety ohs.
Sometimes they argue if I’m found low
or interrupt me if they feel I’m slow.
They also share their genuine relief
when they find my service complete.
You may think filth and endless workload
have me sitting on complaint overload,
but won't once you chat with their commode.
Thirst is in the temples
Heat consuming you
Desire for a gulp of water
Under the frying fire
The only thing that matters
It is a drop of water
All riches of the world
Are in front of you
You can have any
You want to
You can reach your hand
And touch the sky
Or pull the moon
Like a ripe apple
And hold it tight
You can board
A shiny heavenly boat
That is crossing the sky
And fly away
In to the realm of unknown
Seductive alluring world
Anything you desire
Is in a reach for you
With just one gesture
Of your hand
But there is only
One thing you want to
A drop of water on your
Chapped burning lips
Thirst is everywhere
It is in your mouth
Your veins your heart
Your eyes your hair
Your stomach your ears
Your mind is going blank
The only drop of water
Is on your mind
But you can’t get it
There is no living water
To be found in the world
That was devoid
Of the presence of God
At the bottom of hades
All riches of the world
Are there for you
To be reached and savored
But the thirst is all consuming fire
That burns your insides
And the water is the only thing
That you lust and desire
The living water is devoid
From the underworld
And all-consuming thirst
Is what you got
For eternity to come
If only you knew that living water
Is the only thing that matters
In a cool silent evening-
Not the keyboard could hiss,
Let alone the fingers could condemn,
The silly quest eyes posed, such gut...
At her loving heart long awaiting one.
Though not for fun to be tossed
Around with pleasure in pure guise...
Or of pain in glaring truth that beats
Her expectation from her hearty take,
To be switched with available option.
So loyal with every impossibility,
For her worries to be kept away, far...
So far to interrupt the flow of a new move,
Accustomed with nice gestures...
Over the years, without much treats.
How simplicity at its best abandoning
Past's reigning regrets, heart yet to dismiss,
Found a way to find peace worth a gem,
But feel calm to free the first soothing rut¡
And tagged it a moment of fair fun¿
With pleasing concern off what it may cost,
Long awaiting heart after many goodbyes...
Suffered in the hands of time wasting cheats,
To the hope of believing its true stake,
That never seems to be won over adoption.
Truly for everything, there is possibility,
For change and grace, with many a scar
To be treated and healed like a groove:
Daily life's quests, willing adventures...
Counted to be on the list of funful feats.
Her stroll was never to become strong,
With defeating tryouts while so young
To be seen a serious workout for fitness
At morning as well as evening eyewitness,
Before taking up an endless walk lifelong...
My heart pounded in my ear as I ran, stopping periodically – silent, listening. Was he coming? Had he figured out yet that I’d runaway. Was he behind me or would he be waiting behind the next tree or bush? Where was he now? Or was he only inside my head, that throbbing sound that penetrated through my hopes, my prayers, my faith, so that I couldn’t quite breath and so that I couldn’t quite find the strength to do much else but run from the arrogant weight of his darkness shadowing all my good, all my light, all my chances.
I took another step and stopped again to listen, checking the silhouettes of branches with leaves dancing a waltz along the path where my feet pressed into the rich, black Appalachian forest. I was surefooted on this trail since I’d spent most of my mornings walking these very tracks with my favorite partner and canine, the little white cock-a-pooh named Yogi who knew me as his person and friend, his comrade until the end. That was then, though. Yesterday, before the darkness had betrayed my spirit and set its claws into my presence, awakening the dread, the anxiety, the fear that was so strong it seemed to cling to the tears welling up inside of me, pouring rivers of sorrow upon the mountains surrounding me.
In just minutes I found myself wading through the creek where the clear, cool water whispered, laughing at my alarm, promising my thoughts that the terror would soon be gone. Only, it would not. It was there, a lasting dismay, treading the waters of my prayers, hollowing out a hole inside my mind where it told me I was about to learn what it means to live the nightmare that has haunted me for all time. He was alive and as long as he lived I had the fear that could not be calmed, the fear that was like a vine clinging to the blossoms of my hopes, my dreams, my needs. He was alive and he wasn’t about to relax his hold on my yearnings and let me go free.
Chapter 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
September 18, 2022
You taught me the difference,
Twixt right and wrong,
And helped me to find,
Where I truly belong.
You taught me that honor,
Love and respect,
Is much more important,
Than casual sex.
You taught me to earn,
The things that I own,
To take pride in a job,
Well done on my own.
You taught me to smile,
When I found no reason.
You taught me to laugh,
In spite of th treason,
That I had experienced,
In life's cold, hard school;
Feeling abused,
And used as a tool.
You gave me confidence,
In a world of confusion,
And though there were times,
I'd resent your intrusion,
I just want to say,
That I'm glad you were there,
Each time that I stumbled,
To show me you care.
Your tumbling forth was a joy.
None asked, then, you're a girl of a boy;
We never cried when you cried.
Rather, each one had a smile of pride.
You cried when you felt hungry.
You cried for all and sundry.
All you needed was everyone's care.
And of your every need, each one was aware.
You learned to smile too, but that was less.
The angels are blessing you; each did guess;
Did anyone ever feel upset
Though they found you often wet?
Each day, your mom and I eagerly counted,
Whether your growth was health-founded,
You started sitting straight without falling.
You fell to your face and rose while crawling.
When you gradually stood up and toddled,
And, very pleasantly falling swaddled,
For walking, you started finding your space.
In each step, we could find grace;
There was a celebration when you babbled.
How beautiful your toy horse you saddled!
We could find, yet annoyed and sad,
When, with your toys, someone else played
When with other children, you expressed your wrath,
We know all these are part of your growth.
All these happened, dear. Now you’ve started to school,
We still watch over your growth, though we look cool...
The old lady down the street has passed
and left no one they could call around;
except her old cat she called Miss Sass
It will take looking before she's found.
Her friend decided on a yard sale.
Mostly junk will be all we will find:
a worn garden spade and battered pail
remnants of flower beds left behind.
A crocheted doily on arms of chair,
placed in front of an ancient TV.
With Bible on table, she took care
as she read, to have a cup of tea.
They found a small trunk just loosely bound
that contained a locket of fine gold.
and a photo that when it was found,
showed three little girls midst bits of mold.
She had three daughters, she had once said,
but they would not visit anymore.
They must not have cared; can't all be dead!
then they found the trunk's wee secret door.
There, a large diamond ring brightly shone
They decided, as they locked the trunk:
Sell, give money to those all alone.
If her girls call, say it was all junk!
March 5, 2023
for Writing Challenge--J Words
by Constance La France
I miss the barn, the hay loft,
a place to listen to the midday sun
creaking through old wood.,
the small clouds of horse flies
moving as one in their jet-pack bodies,
that rose and fell
their small engines stuttering.
The humpbacked skeleton of a tractor
where goats built their castles,
the oily emptiness of its heart
as it clanked under their hooves
into a gearless life once more.
When the empty stalls echoed a warning
to the horses that no longer stabled there,
I would get up into the sagging rafters
where feather whiskered winds
rustled dust through broken boards,
It used to take them an hour
before they knew I was missing,
later they knew where to find me.
I miss the soul-deep smell
of dry leather tackle long unharnessed,
the empty cans of linseed and engine oil,
the old shotgun so rusted
it grew out of a dirt-caked bucket
as brown as a whittled flower stalk.
All gone, the barn, the farm house
and ‘they’ - gone now.
Yet sometimes they call to me
as I dream in a lullaby loft,
and I still a little disappointed
to be found.
Give me the lighter
The days are dark
And cold
The egoistic evildoers
from the top
Controls the switchs of
Our Freedom in Africa
And beyond
In our world today
No wonder truth are
Hard to found on the lips
Of many
Is obvious how
Freedom is deep
Yet expensive in this era
And before now
Give me the lighter
The days are dark and grey
Everyone still fighting
Despite the change of time
The world is still far from unity
What else can we see
To realise what the time speaks
So I chose to life in the dark
Yes I refuse to be teasty
While standing in the clean rivers
Of water
please permit me to light up
The life I know
Permit me to inhale wisdoms
to exhale knowledge
Permit me please
while I chill and breath
With the trees of life
so please
Give me the lighter
She yawns as she takes out each dart sharpens the tip and adds them back to pile.
This game has been going on for quite awhile.
She stretches as still she refuses to play.
Come what may.
Again he steps up and snatches the darts.
Posed he stands there a fine work of art.
Young still vibrant chest puffed in defiance.
Having gained so much except the ability to feel pride in self reliance.
His eyes bright as the day time skies.
She shakes her head still not understanding why.
She braces for the inevitable as sharp points fly.
Her hide tough from battling through lies.
Each dart hitting its mark
For although he lacks in self pride he doesnt lack in smarts.
She grimaces and takes each one not allowing eyes to meet.
He takes his seat.
She again gathers the sarcastic off handed remarks
The shots taken in the dark
Each black purple blue and red spotted dart.
She yawns and sharpens each one with care and returns them doing her part.
Taking her place solemn hurt filled rejection weighing down
Slumped shoulders and broken frown.
She remains on solid strength grown ground
Determined to love through it all til self pride through self reliance is found.
Again tonight she took in the bad and turned it around.
Giving of her feelings her heart giving her all without a sound.
Teaching through suffering that she will remain.
She has not left as each battle came.
She lived through lonely and breathed through pain.
Staying as close as she can.
Trying to help build pride within this man.