Long Green light Poems

Long Green light Poems. Below are the most popular long Green light by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Green light poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Deprived

Deprived (sleep)

The small green light
on the radio dial... 
glares at me in the dark. 
It is like a lazar light show going off. 
I threw it out the next day. 
I bought a new one, 
and went on my way. 

Night came, 
and I went to bed. 
My head heavy, my body tired. 
I turned out the light, 
and the red light, 
came right on. 
It was a giant, glaring sign... 
gleaming "No SLEEP"
at me, 
you see. 

I unplugged the evil box, 
and threw it out the window
of the second floor. 
Then I shut the door... 
and went back to bed, 
my head, 
heavy... and tired. 

I overslept. 

Morning sun rays touched the window seal, 
and all I could feel was free. 
I did not want to work today, anyway.
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.


Out of Control

always amazes me
how we think we're free
with rhythm to the beat
being the chains on our feet
complacent in our lull 
...so far out of control

with the wonderment of me
to fill our needs
pile high on the heap
the selfishness we keep
a cushion to the soul
...so far out of control 

stopping at the light
reflect while it's red
not a lot of time
and with that being said
green light on the go
...so far out of control

out on a dinner date
food and phone fill your face
raise your eyes just in time
as the bill arrives
might as well have been alone 
...so far out of control

a need to socialize 
with those of like mind
other thoughts we'll never find
if others we pay no mind
say we do but don't
...so far out of control

think we know what's best
us and no one else
tightening up the belt
on the world of self
how could we not know
...so far out of control
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Night Is Coming

Night is coming
Even though it already looks and feels of night
It isn't here yet
Gray veil covers the sky
Rain plays its sad tune
But pink flowers contrast green on Japanese Magnolia

Night is coming
Color blind person would not be able to see
The green leaves that are in contrast to the pink
Nor could they see the contrast between the white and green on the Bradford Pear

Night is coming 
Rain increases it rhythm, the grayness in the forest deepens
A heaviness weighs upon my body making it uncomfortable to breath
The rain washes the pollen away for right now

Night is coming 
Colorblindness would be a disadvantage for a person in many ways 
Some of the beauty of spring would be lost
But they would probably notice shape and design more than someone who sees color

Night is coming
When the darkness covers over me then I won't be able to see how to write
This would be a great disadvantage in accomplishing finishing this work
The yellow green or banana yellow yard light has come on it light radiates outward
In the distance a very large tree reaches upward skeletal but has few spring green 
tiny leaves that contrast the gray sky.
If I  were color blind I would not see that.

Premium Member The Sleeping Watchman

The Sleeping Watchman

The things I had lived through demanded another translation through my tired body,
there were so many roads, so many doors shut with keys made of wax,
I walked through fog, exhausted, and by mistake fell asleep in the cold sand,
far off towers were collapsing, bell towers swaying without sound,
in the heavy silence of things an old man made signs to me from the dark,
"I am your watchman," he whispered, "come and lie down inside my sleeping wolf."

I would lie down and wake in the green light of a foreign moon,
a ship passed by with no masts, no sailors, only shadows on its deck,
it was the hour that calls toward forgetting, the hour with no hands and no name,
my eyelashes still held the world shut, the dew had filled them with salt,
somewhere closer the old man kept whispering, "come, come, I am your watchman,"
with a light wave of his hand he wanted to lead me toward a gate of smoke.

He made strange signs to convince me, old gestures from forgotten centuries,
he was my watchman, asleep in a very narrow place, in a cave of salt,
beyond it were others, wandering on that same endless field,
like a blind man I could see past their borders, I could only listen, not look,
three crooked trees grew there and the sky above stayed silent like a cracked bell,
it meant stillness stretching far into the distance, a stillness heavy as wet earth.

The others were on that field, I listened, I didn't speak, I felt their breathing,
each one claimed to have wandered the same endless road,
my poor watchman, condemned to a silence harsh as a river stone,
led them through the glass forest (they howled in fear, he fed them ash),
from every side dark springs flowed, the forest was inside each of them,
they slept on ash, a forest poured out of their bodies like water from a broken jar.

Someone said, "if we got out of here we'd see how many of us there are,
we swarm everywhere like shadows with no home,"
I called out to them, "sit down quietly on the shore, sit down like shadows,"
I was their watchman, lost within my own silence,
a woman had climbed into a tree, wanting to listen to the depths of the earth,
the sky showed stillness stretching far into the distance, I stood there with a horizon over my eyes,
the others had lain down inside wolves, staying deep within them, listening to the earth weep.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Three Outlooks On Our Life

Optimism makes one ready to go
bright, forward-thinking never looks back
every corner brings green with happiness
on their running shoes never seems to lack

Now the pessimist is another thing
looks either down or behind feels dark
their slogan's "it can't be done" it's red
no matter the evidence they have one mark

Then there is the one who is colour blind
always weighs things up never truly sure
acting whether it's maybe not quite right
they say he's wise but never got the cure

You see, do you know my secret?
I am colour blind but not very wise
all my day's colours are a blur
maybe that's why never won a prize 

So three outlooks on our life
all starting when we were born
who knows what was put in us
but feels at times like a jaggy thorn!

(Quote:

"An optimist is a person who sees a green light everywhere. The pessimist sees only the red light. But the truly wise person is colour blind" - Dr Albert Schweitzer)
Form: Rhyme


Goodnature loves that hoe too

Faster than two ducks
slick on the street or what
Wet on the Street or what
wet tires on a motor
Mothers on a motor
 the street or what
 up the come up
in up nothing hoe
in all done up
hoe says she wants to be my friend
I love that hoe too.
Help with the difference
help me understand
If there was one 
day I remember
more than others
is the day of mothers
and valentines
Battle lines, battles lost 
Battles the Boss
Battle Eccentric
I like to interprut 
I like to get into it
rubber nuts
burning rubber up the gut
the main street gets smoked up
big thrasher what are they after
the green light
At the Factor
In the Clean Night
The road is wet and Ive 
I lost my sight
I cant fight the speed
Its Heavy Baby
two tons of Gravy
Suicidal and homicidal Behavious
Hit the Gas cause
the breaks will save her x2
She aint late she,
Be there Later, riding
street in squat reliefit dont knock its a beast
It just Knocks the street

Premium Member Funeral of Fireflies

Glass,
traps

one spark
in the ferns,
spirits of the dead,
tethered above the wet creek bed,
guiding the departed through the mangrove roots tonight.

They hover in the liminal space between the living and the silent wet bush graves.

We did not know we caught a wandering spirit alive, glowing with the pale green light of someone trying to find their way through the gully.

Unscrewing the cold rim of the glass I watched the little ancestor crawl out across my thumb to hesitate a moment in the damp night air before heading upwards into the canopy towards the guiding southern stars.
Form: Fibonacci

A Dunce To Lovers Lying Ways

I need an act of heroism
To defeat the terrorism
That's been in my world and soul
I've been broken, never whole
Torn to shreds by horrid lies
Handed to me by sly guys
Each one took another slice
I willingly fave for a price
A high cost that I have paid
Lesson learned, I will not trade
My hearts affections anymore
I need to even up the score
Letting my heart win for once
I was stupid and a dunce
Smarter the next time around
My heart starts to wind around
Sweet smiles or smooth maneuvers
By love lusted evil doers
I'll look for signs that have been
Problematic way back when
Passing by love criminals
Waiting till my soul reveals
The sign I've been looking for
Shaking me right to the core
With alarms, whistles, and bells
Flowing in my mind to tell
My heart its safe to say hello
Green light love ready to grow
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Stalker

Hints not taken from countless missed calls,
and no replies to tons of texts.
Still she searches through social media clues,
pursuing like a hunter,
pondering why his green light illuminates.

Investigating google's archives,
she claims to be his number one fan.
She knows the clothes he wears
and the places where he eats.

Downloading images does not crave her fascination.

She follows him like the moon.
Lurking..
Standing at corners, hidden in alleys.
Her binocular eyes preying on him.
He can feel her watching silently.
Hear her obsessive deep breaths,
ensuing his every step.

The sight of her eerie image
is like a million beetles,
crawling under his skin,
driving him insane - controlling his mind.

Her nauseating voice leads to nervous sensations
with outbreaks of panicky perspiration.
His stomach tightens and heart beats violently.
His eyes glare in shock, his body seems frozen.

and all she can say is;

" I do it because I love you!"

Silent One
Simple Musing
7 November 2017

Just a quick example for the 'stalker' contest
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Prose

Premium Member The Weekend

For five days we have been worker bees 
Now it is time for those tees 
Whether it is fighting off a golfing bogie 
Or wiping your hands from a lunch time hoagie 
Finally the weekend is here 
And adventure is near 
Going out entertaining the mates 
Finding friends and romantic dates 
For a short period of time 
And recreation on the mind 
Worker bees turned into social bugs 
Giving companions fashionable hugs 
Interaction with others 
And chance meetings that could breed into lovers 
Taking a two day holiday where one can reflect and relax 
Ignoring what is being transmitted at the office fax 
It is the proper time to make the pass 
When encountering a potential lifelong lad or lass 
Enjoy the time off
Not having any guilt feelings of fault 
Being in the corporate life 
Needing to be giving the green light 
Hoping the check clears 
To shop Wal-Mart then on to Sears 
During this time we sit down finding peace and cheer 
Since the weekend is finally here
Form: Rhyme

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