Long Goes Poems
Long Goes Poems. Below are the most popular long Goes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Goes poems by poem length and keyword.
Having studied science as a subject I can say,
Water goes much the container way.
Dew drop-shape, tumbler-shape, pitcher-shape,
Well-shape, stream-shape, river-shape, ocean-shape…
The shape of water and heart of water may resemble,
I imagine water in a pure crystal shape assemble.
Transparency! You can find from it a fallen needle,
Trouble it and you can fish out moralities evil.
The shape depends on the thirst it can quench,
And as per the dignity of the matter float or drench…
Shape floods; shape droughts;
The shape makes many walk miles and loses heart…
The shape makes us smile, laugh and determines,
The shape of the earth, heaven, and the cosmos…
Shapes make masters like Jesus proclaim louder:
“If anyone gives even a cup of cold water…
That person will certainly not lose their reward…”
Just like a human heart shape can be soft or hard.
Discussions can go hotter till we finally utter:
Is shapelessness the real shape of water…?
Or going around and around and conclude:
Faith shaped, Hope shaped, Love shaped…
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If ‘you’ and ‘I’ are water fed
Water is, then, ‘we’ shaped.
22 June 2021
He tries to teach me all he knows
No matter how exceedingly far he goes
Growing up in constant overdrive
Of all things great and small, dead or alive
Three ultimatums I get the pleasure to choose
Of guy sickness and ugly blues
Alone and scared for almost four years
Every time I check, it’s old me in shattered mirrors
Never anything new it’s always the same
People quick to point the finger at me for the blame
It’s her fault this, and it’s her fault that
Like I am in prison and I earned the label as a “rat”
When dreams come along with a brand new verse
He’s right there beside me, helping me to rehearse
I’m so open-minded yet always so closed
I wish I could line my emotions up from row to row
All of my emotions have to do with him alone
Just for knowing him, ten feet I’ve just grown
His hazel eyes never fail to turn my head
But still alone and cold I sleep in my bed
Four feet forward and six feet back
Like he’s always been there, but then fades to black
So, so, close yet so, so, far
Please come out wherever you are
I’m so blind to his state of mind
But just a month is really all of our waiting time
Different surroundings here I come
Be by my side, babe, please don’t let me run
Mommy and Dad aren’t going to be there forever, he’s right
Completely zoned out deep within my peaceful night
The choice I made I will intend to do
So, self, be 100% prepared for your brand new
It is not about how you act or what you do
its all about knowing where to cook your stew
Its not about how others see you
or what they choose to think of you
or what you think they think of you
Its about what the man in the mirror sees
when he reveals his soul to himself...
Its not about the drama that surrounds you
nor the thoughts of others that fill your head
Its about that inner voice that often
goes unused, the same one that begs you to listen
when you are too busy talking and taking a stance
Its more a way of feeling when the world is out of touch
its more a way of loving you, when it hurts too much
Its not about how you should behave,
but all about how well you carry your stave,
all the way to the finish line.
For all those times we’ve shared
There’s nothing more we’d asked God in prayer
Than to make our love be strong and true
Even if life goes tough or takes its hardest blow.
Recalling the time when infatuation tow
Like a dashing wind, twirling, sticking like glue
‘Then we got along amidst the test of time
Temptations were resisted, passion climbed
With you now in your arms, you hold me tight
Trembles and thrills, I feel inside
Ineffable joy from unfathomable love you bring
As we celebrate our anniversary, I’m trilling
I thank you so much for your love, oh my sweet
For the love, care and fidelity throughout the years
All treble notes from your breath I could hear
As we dance while whispering our love tonight my dear
©2015Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Dec. 6, 2015 8.05am
On days like today, I need you the most
When it seems that nothing goes right
You're the only one who can cheer me up
Sweet love, my whole day you light
With a fire, a passion, a burning desire
To hold you tight in my arms
To squeeze you, to kiss your waiting lips
In dreams, I'm overwhelmed by your charms
Forgive me, I tend to repeat myself a lot
Because I'm still blown away by this thing
That we're actually back together again
If you were here, you'd hear my heart sing
My darling, I feel like a blithering idiot
Running off and foaming at the mouth
See what you've done, my darling lover
Hope you're satisfied, my mind's gone south
So sorry for chastising you the way I did
I'm a willing participant as they say
The love of my life has come back to me
You are mine till my very last day
Gravity enters my thoughts, what ever goes up has to come down. As i start my descent from
the summit of this giant of the Grampians. My journey down is so different to the ascent.
Clouds build for the evening mass. The breeze has magically transformed into a cutting
wind, as the tallest of ferns whistle a goodbye.
The melting snows still show their march, small waterfalls run into fast flowing burns.
Lambs now hug close to their mothers, its as if they know nightfall is upon them. The
quietness of the glens are a memory now as modern mans noise appears from the distance.
The local mountaineer team are on the ascent on a training exercise. These unpaid
volunteers put their own safety in danger to save others who are in danger. The orangy
glow of street lights confirm my descent is complete. I head back home, tired, weary from
my day on the highest mountain in my homeland. But so alive in the joys and sights that it
allowed me to share on this day.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php
The weather-worn, eroded and baked, straight and tall chimney stands.
Defiant.
Disused.
Below, a window.
A window with a screen with a gap for a curtain. The curtain that flutters and shakes then rests against a cold hard wall.
This curtain of life hides secrets. Secrets only discussed with the wind.
What goes on behind these curtains? Under this chimney? Is there fun, is there happy, is there dull, is there bored? Are there chairs, are there beds, are there desks, are there people?
A chimney, a curtain, a wall, and a thought all there to see on the first floor of the main, across from the pub, lit by day.
We know the secrets, we know the private.
We’re blind to these thoughts from the invisible first floor.
Perceiving the passing parade of people
walking by outside my window
a never-ending stream an endless tide
they come and go on a never-ending ride
nine-to-fivers barely alivers
running round and round on a wheel
lost in a maze can they really be real
the passing parade will always be there
while the world spins and goes its own way
the passing parade has nothing to say
while the world turns another day
perusing the passing parade of people
wandering by outside my front door
a never-ending crowd an endless horde
they're still keeping a never-ending score
weekend warriors none more sorrier
racing round and around in a wheel
lost in a daze do they ever even feel
there are those with noses high in the air
who can't smell the roses totally unaware
and others with eyes held down on the ground
never taking the time to look around
This is a classic story to share.
About the best grandmother ever
She was the person who truly cared.
Back when I was still a little girl
When nays are not that old
She buys me a wooden slipper.
Together we tend her garden
She's a good storyteller.
We are never bored with her.
She got our back when we needed her.
Every problem we have, she's always there.
She always carries her magic purse.
Inside there are lots of stored memories.
Bobbies pins, gums, receipts and more
Old notes, mirrors, even photos galore
Reading glasses and lipstick all in there.
Our grandmother has a magic wand
That makes us smell delicious air.
Cooking us our favorite meals to share
For every summer all her grandchildren
Will come to her house to gather
Our dinner is always full of laughter.
Everywhere she goes, I'm with her.
All the things that we do together
It is a memory that we'll always remember.
We all grew up with her love and care.
Sharing with every piece of her
The love she gave us is so rare.
In our hearts she stays with us through prayer.
the coffee that Lenin drank as he plotted revolution, the coffee that Hitler and Stalin drank with FDR as they divided up the world after World War 11, the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his ass to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical,
Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee
As I pound down that first cup of coffee
And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies
Of caffeine induced neuron enhancing chemicals
I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear
I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair
Lying through their perfect blazing white teeth
about the great success the government is having
Following the great leader’s latest pronouncements
I want to scream
and shoot the TV
and run out side
Shouting
Stop the world!
I want to get
off this ing crazy planet”
The earth does not care a whit
about my attitude problem
It merely shrugs
and moves around the Sun
In its appointed daily run
the universe whispers
in my ear
time to drink more coffee
for an attitude adjustment
And I sit down
The madness dissipating a bit
And enjoy my second cup
Of heaven and hell
In my morning cup of Joe