Long Graduated Poems
Long Graduated Poems. Below are the most popular long Graduated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Graduated poems by poem length and keyword.
Ethel Hurst
1889 – 1918
I saw the town rise up
Like a single blade of grass after a spring rain.
I played a multitude of hop-scotch games
With my best friend Hannah on Penn Street.
And sipped a hundred ice cream sodas in the Mercantile at sunset.
My mother took me to Jacob’s Grocery every Monday
And it was I who picked the plump oranges
From the big rickety crate.
On Saturdays we worked the fields at Strong’s Ranch,
Harvesting the pampas in the walnut fields.
And on Halloween I was the girl in the moon-face costume for five straight years.
When Christmas brought its luminous lights to the town,
Mother dressed me in red with a bell on my bonnet.
And father sang the carols with a guitar and a tambourine.
I graduated from the big high school in 1907
And in celebration,
Rode my bicycle to Bassett
Still in my starched graduation petticoats.
Jesse Forbes,
He being five years younger than I,
Was the love of my brief stay on this earth.
But when he ventured to steal a kiss that day in Black Canyon,
I used my calloused hand to convey my stern disagreement.
But what wild regrets I’ve entertained since Jesse drowned that day.
In the wild currents by Pio Pico’s crumbling Adobe,
His body bobbing like a sea bird
In the punishing plume of that old deep river.
Beyond the muddy banks and the wild flowers,
Jesse Forbes left this life with a surprised frozen grin.
Why Jesse? Why?
You never knew the truth, my love.
You never really understood what I meant
When I said nothing.
I said No to you when I said nothing that day in Black Canyon,
But I really meant Yes.
The influenza incinerated my heart and soul
With a 106 temperature in the winter of 1918.
Twenty nine years I dare say
Is nothing in terms of eternal life!
I had so much more to do!
I had so much more to dream about!
I walked and talked on the streets of my town,
And on the funeral-dark avenues of my innocent days.
And I planned and I schemed
And all for nothing!.
Indeed, I felt the pulse of fleeting time
And the never-ending,
Ever-turning circle of endless days.
But now I rest here in Clark Cemetery… a virgin corpse
Flirting shamelessly with the bow-tie worms,
Still wild with regrets.
And forever haunted in reverse
By the same recurring memory
Of Jesse Forbes holding a rose.
Under the old oak tree in Black Canyon..
Her husband moved so often, she ended up in over eighteen colleges
Before she finally graduated from one of them.
She had to take classes from three different colleges simultaneously
to finally graduate, but she did it.
His wife died in a car accident, as did his baby daughter.
He could have turned into a hermit, and stopped living.
But he decided to live in order to raise his two boys.
He is now the President-Elect of The United States of America.
Her days were numbered, or so she thought.
Her man took a hammer to her skull, nearly killed her three times.
Her children begged her to leave, as did her nurses and doctors.
He will kill you the next time, she was told several hospital visits.
She finally left, and has enjoyed the best twelve years of her life.
He was depressed, anxious, and despondent after his mother died.
He nearly drank himself to death. Things went steadily downhill.
Did not think he could ever crawl out of the hole he had dug for himself.
He found the right partner, the right doctor and the right medication.
He is joyful, excited with a new life. Has been sober for three years.
Tall and handsome was super Armand
Younger days spent in a music boyband
Older he graduated to a heavy rock band
With the stage name of “Collapsin’ Grandstand”
Last summer Armand took a cruise trip to Greenland
Because that was his deep rooted fatherland
Then a hop a skip and a jump over to Iceland
Tagging on a visit to his sweet motherland
He thought this’d be much better than Disneyland
For here his music was in most popular demand
Confirmed in all papers at any newsstand
Heard it many a time and it was easy to understand
Fans cheered and danced at the band’s command
Everyone in attendance had a time that’s grand
Always had a bigger crowd than planned
All felt like they had reached the Holy Land
Never accused of being underhand or bland
Every night in the middle of Armand’s handstand
The crowd wildly cheered for “Collapsin’ Grandstand”
Too hilarious to see how would jump to attention every stagehand
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Hillary Rodham Clinton graduated from Yale Law School. She had served as secretary of state, senator from New York, first lady of the United States, first lady of Arkansas, a practicing lawyer and law professor. She's never forgotten where she came from. Hillary has fought for the needs of children everywhere and social justice. She was inspired by Martin Luther King Jr. after she heard him give a speech.
Our former First Lady of the United States ran for president of the United States and lost. She did win the people popular vote with 2,868,686 more votes, but lost the electoral vote by 77. The choice expressed collectively by the electoral college, which determines the winner of elections for president and vice-president in the US. If she had won, she would have been the first female president of the United States a great step for women.
4/3/2019
She!
Intimated by guilt broken by perplexity
Waiting for the love her life but until then,
committed to memories of forlorn moments
Threading on the joy rides of halcyon days.
Her!
Heart of a woman in the depths solitude
Plunged and played by people she called friends
Lonely soul tormented even by happy melodies
In her emptiness void her soul forever shivers.
He!
Four and half years in self enclosed walls
Loosing very essence of youthful love in a rage
Finally tumbled down the walls of solitude blind
Enclosed soul spirited away into the blues
Man!
Living in the love of the common people
Somewhere in the back streets of the slums
Upholding the dream of becoming a hero
With nothing more than hope and love from above.
Woman!
Years upon years of sitting at lecture rooms
Graduated with a class but no pass for a job
You know the norm of the day
If it’s not in she won’t be on board
Keep calm hold onto your faith
God is at work .
You!
Balancing ambition with conscience
On the road less traveled.
A tapestry of soul breaking fortuity
That eyes the very core of your maturity.
The start ups ,the gigs and realities you quest,
Gradually you will get there .
I
In my simple form in rolling waves
Light hearted or heavy ladened
With poetry or with spoken words
Even in my nothingness and in my woes
I will forever defy the cryptic void of silence.
She will smile .
Her heart will find home .
Man will find love .
She will be a wife ,A woman of dignity.
His dreams will come true.
Hold on to you faith and let’s go and get it,
Everything we’ve been dreaming.
God have our backs
We!
We are a work In progress
There will be fails but we will never regress
Steady and gradually we will evolve
In love and in laughter all the pain will dissolve
In due time when we are done,
They will thread here to see
From far and near they will travel over the seas
The atheist will sing hallelujah
The doubters will lurk in their disbelief
Our tales will be history
Our memories will be legacies
For we are a work in progress; Winners
within.
A little bitter cup of joe to snap me from my daydream
A slightly soggy pancake that makes me want a cup of water
I'm firmly locked in place, I've graduated, see
No need to move back to that little place
I was always begging to leave
Yet that pitiful room is calling
My desire to go is appalling
A tiny little paradise of so many little things that I
Had not even discovered in the years that I had dreamed them
And yet they're calling me
I'm working for a beautiful wage
Yet my dreams and wants are eighty miles away
I want to chase them
Reality's not so pretty
It really is such a pity
Bitter like a cup of coffee after Christmas
I'm living my college dream in distress
I never was supposed to miss this
There's an artificial tree blinking in my memories
Tying that pitiful living room together, yeah
A revolving door of strangers filling out that spooky room
Drinking strange brews and smoking stuff
That makes it smell just like a tomb
I wanted to break free so bad
Yet the thought of it makes me so sad
A beautiful cityscape
A perfect little dream I couldn't appreciate
Until it vanished
I'd love to go back there one day
Til then, I'm heading to work in dismay
Bitter like a cup of coffee before New Year's
A lucid daydream of all of my fears
Let me drown those days in some cheap beers
Come on, keep me afloat with all of my daydreams
So I can float to work in the cool streams
Of things I shouldn't have missed at all.
It was 1988
And things seemed great
I walked off the stage
With a degree at the right age
There were changes abound
As I entered life’s next round
One happened a few years later
When bowl games needed to get things straighter
On New Year’s Day Night
The Orange Bowl was colleges big time sight
Granted on another network sugar was being splashed
With this game that could springboard one to nice professional cash
With a nice halftime show
It was a nice way to let last year go
But there was one network’s selfish greed
That tarnished the gridiron holiday gift underneath the tree
They wanted it all
And stopped at nothing including putting the parent company’s store in the mall
Due to this obsession
Athletics saw nothing that would define the word recession.
More bowls were put in place
To allow every student athlete a chance to build their talented case
But it was the Orange Bowl who had a foe
Direct from Epcot France featuring the French Quarter drunken trance.
New Orleans had the party the night before
Hours in front of midnight when they showed the old year the door.
Someone in a yellow jacket made the shift to compete with the King of Orange’s tropical gift
Now the viewer needed to do a little remote control clickering
To ease the family’s bickering.
Today King Orange will stay out of the way
Of New Years Day
Instead they play a day before we say goodbye
To the year that gave a good try.
With a team from the VA that will need a good military strategy to find the winning way
And another team from the north part of the state it should be a nice game that is worth the luring bait
But it is that wonderful halftime production
That has found itself through the years getting reduction
They have tried everything
Including getting celebrities to sing
To combat this couple minutes of rest
That makes the players ponder on how well they are doing on the gridiron final exam test.
In closing good luck to the two teams
As they deal with tropical greens
Finding out what everything means
While playing this game in their dreams.
Bully me you, I exemplified archetypal scapegoat
Even as old (dish) married
(spooning) curmudgeon,
who receives social security disability
linkedin with social anxiety)
chose the fork less traveled
aye pucker with sunken cheeks,
(especially without dentures)
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber
(think unclogging toilet)
please support your local bummer
back in the day one
long haired pencil neck geeks palled
around with another
hirsute nerd - Roger Kummerer,
(who both of us graduated Methacton
High School class of 1977),
and yours truly readily
admitting, alluding, and attesting
without shadow of doubt
representing the dumber
than rocks of said beastie boys
bandits, donning particolored pachyderm
gabardine garb getup trumpeting,
especially as Mummer
on each New Year's Day
with bare ass tuchus
excellently imitating courtesy said orifice
(as chief motormouth) sound
of combo motorboat hummer.
Ah... the joys of amazingly aging gracefully
happily recalling never being
beat into bloody pulp dully
imagining dimming sense and sensibility
before (appearing gratefully dead)
lifeless body dumped into gully
nonetheless all the while fully
maintaining conscious, and forcefully
summoning forth latent powers gleefully
choking living daylights masterfully
delivering just desserts upon Tom Viglione,
whose plaintive laments truthfully
resonate as blessed music
to ears unaccustomed hearing pitifully
sounding long overdue comeuppance
forever disbelieving wrongfully
perpetrated injustice
witnessed impossible mission
fueling an ordinarily meek lad
only in his dreams, he envisions zestfully.
Pugnacious thuggish hooligans... although
decades long since elapsed, whereby hoodlums
jockeyed to rain one after another verbal blow
threatening introverted diminutive boy
who, no surprise did eventually,
albeit (stuntedly) grow
(as an aside resembled anorexic
Santa Claus ho... ho... ho...)
still wracked, impacted, affected...,
this punster, he haint Joe
King, but upholds valuable humor less or mo'
feebly, lamely, and quirkily aspires toward po'
whit tree linkedin with infusing,
(no matter ex post facto)
freeing mine unsung hero.
How she loved diamonds, her birthstone.
Literally diamonds were her best friends.
She worked very hard and each piece
of jewelry she bought made her happy.
Cluster of diamonds or solitaires, emeralds
and sapphires with diamonds set in precious
metals of gold or platinum, earrings, bracelets,
necklaces in gold and Rolex gem-set watches.
The most precious ones were the four carat diamond
solitaire ring, the twelve carat graduated
Riviere necklace bought at auctions and the Rolex
watch with diamond-set bezel and dial.
She collected her precious jewels for decades.
Those precious jewels were her pride and joy.
Her eyes sparked when she showed them, and
her excitement filled the room with joy.
She died ten years ago, and her eldest daughter
kept them without sharing any with her sister.
Where are the precious jewels now?
Sold, pawned, or given away?
Chelle knew she was too old to get married
or even meet a man now
She was living at home, working as a bookkeeper for her dad.
She would be doing this until she died, she imagined.
An old maid, she said. Who would have guessed it?
Chelle is twenty-seven years old, totally long in the tooth.
It is 1967; she lives in a small hick town in middle earth,
Bible belt, USA.
There are no unmarried boys now.
People stay married until they die.
Eighteen-year-olds who graduated two days ago are all getting married this weekend.
Chelle has resigned herself to the fact that it is just her,
Mom, Dad, and the Elvis, their dog.
Her path as a spinster is clear.
She will die reading a romance novel,
dreaming of what might have been and what never-will-be.
Her mother will have none of this feeling sorry for yourself nonsense; she thinks Chelle has a good life.
They love her don't they?
She drags a reluctant Chelle to the church parsonage
to help paint it. A new family is coming.
The family arrives early. Except it is not a family.
It is a young Reverend, fresh from divinity college.
He is twenty-eight, ready to settle down and preach from his heart. He notices Chelle right away.
She is standing on a ladder that starts to slip, and she has gorgeous legs. He races to help.
Steadies the ladder with a firm grip.
She turns to thank her mother. But it is not her mother.
His smile nearly makes her fall on her petootie.
It is someone new. Someone handsome and young.
A handsome man of twenty-eight -her new Reverend.
“My name is Reverend Jim,” he tells her.
She can barely speak, blushing. He has gorgeous brown eyes.
“I'm Chelle,” she says. “Thank you for saving me.”
That night she thanked God for being so good.
At last, instilling a little hope that there might be a chance
to not live the life of a spinster.
I am happy to report they saved each other.
Written 5-19-2019
Contest: The Smile at the Foot of the Ladder
Sponsor: Craig Cornish