Long Harp Poems

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


Romantic Serenade

It was the Halloween Ball
In the season of the fall
A mysterious bachelor called
To the attention of us all

The biggest mansion party
The cooks food is hearty
The host is definitely tardy
For most of his own party

The musicians play the last dance
The men try to romance
But don't stand a chance
For the host is here! They glance

To a man dressed in black wear
In Old Spanish attire bare
The women began to stare
For he was a young stallion, a Mare

From a top the stairs he walks
The ladies gather to stalk
The man who doesn't talk
Like birds they came in flocks

He wore black clothes and a red sash
White trim and a black mask
To find a dancer is his task
But who will he ask?

The only girl not drawn to attention
Is sitting alone no words to mention
He takes her hand There is no tention
Soft as a doves wings a cool sensation

The proceed to the middle of the floor
She doesn't know what's in store
A lot of musicians come in..there is more!
Some of them rich, some are poor

He takes his tunic off then starts
The music is written from the heart
The stand at attention far apart
Then the solo with the silver harp

The drum beat starts going 
They come together emotions flowing
His risque' dance he is showing
To her mind he is boasting

They move and dance like magic
For five minutes the song's romantic
The crowd watching in motionless static
The songs end was very tragic

The last beats were hard to miss
They drew close and started to kiss
For her it was a mystical bliss
His every movement caressed her lips

The awkward silence he starts to leave
The young lady can hardly breathe
She starts to faint...she can't see
The wings appeare and she falls asleep

The girl awakes in her bed it seems
In her school clothes it was only a dream
The sound of water foils the scene
Her eyes still blurry it's hard to see

She wanted this for real
Her heart is sealed
Then fate will have to deal
Her new loves appeal

She notices something on the ground
It's the wings and mask she found
And a CD blank is bound
She puts it in and the sound...

Is the unforgettable song
It was to her so long
But there was something wrong
Where did this come from?

In the CD case is an Old Engligh letter
It said "Undoubtedly for the better
I am gone with the weather
Your kiss I will always remember forever and ever
Form:


Her Eyes Were Like Fireflies

In all honesty,
I never learned your name.
I didn’t need to; 
The look in your eyes is your name 
Like fireflies, they twinkle and glimmer your name
A name I love saying 
The way you stare at me 
It’s like I’m the color yellow,
And I’m painting away the grey of your world 

That’s what you tell me 
As my head rests in the crook of your neck, and your fingers trail up the bare of my hip
You’re yellow, and sunshine to me you say
And I’m grey like a pebble, soaking up your rays

I laugh 
But grey is my favorite color I tell you 
It’s the color of the skies on the days I’m tucked in your arms, because its too cold and wet to go outside
It’s the color of my favorite blanket that I keep under my bed
Its only for special occasions
When I need to cry and shake and let the dreams of the night know I’m not okay 

You’re not just for special occasions though
You’re for every occasion. Every fight, every dance, 
Every laugh with my head thrown back and my fingers tightening around you for purchase because laughing with you is like an ******, it breaks me, it builds me, it loves me 
Even when you’re not here
I still think of you
I sit you beside me, and tell you thoughts, even when reality speeds around us, and you’re not really there 

Even now I can sit you beside me 
And trace the figures of your love with my eyes 
Black hair, straight and deep. Sometimes short, sometimes long; I can’t choose, you’re beautiful either way
Brown eyes, deep like the dirt flowers and dreams can only sprout in, that burn like the hearts of spinning stars
Tall, and I hate it, but you always use it to your advantage to capture me tight
I lied 
I love it 
Long fingers, and you pluck secrets and whimpers from me like notes from a harp 
God, I love them 
God, I crave them 

You’re my all dreams bundled into one, my opposite, my piece of the puzzle, my favorite melody, my infinite addiction
I can’t live without you
A day that goes by without you is another breath stolen from my lungs but what can I do because you’re not even real 

Like Pygmalion, I’ve fallen in love with my own mind’s tortured creation and now I can love no one but you 
I can stare at no one but you, and when the night falls, I can go to no one but you 
To Orsino, how can you say women can’t love like men?
I’ve fallen in love with a woman and now I’m dead.

September 25, 2018

2009 Hyundai Sonata Funereal Lament

Unaffordable, yet valiant speeding, 
tailgating, and zooming Pep Boys, I cannot dodge. 

Yours truly grief stricken
(sob... sob... sob)...
wheely hard to bear
this anticipatory anxiety
riddled joker impossible
mission thwarting despair

death knell tolled (told),
woebegone news, I did fear
hears stunned me into silence,
the unwelcome prognosis,
I needed to hear
no joke, but good humor

totally wrecked vehicle forces
yours truly to become...,
no not a lion tamer
but, yes a panhandling junketeer
begging, copping, dilly dallying... ha
to accept unpleasant

unexpected dire straits
gravely digging within lithosphere
bidding... fare thee well
treasured automobile faithful and near
synonymous with ideal paramour, yet now
must confront stark reality,

lack ample disposable income available
no financial resources to persevere,
and worse case scenario me
and the missus will need to don
faux Santa Claus outfit,
and roundup available reindeer

for ourselves (yea... yea... yea...,
I realize how spare
and tired, pessimistic,
forlorn success such short notice
unless if... nah no fat or slim chance...
apocalypse ushers abominable thermonuclear

war, (I doubt Trump would 
pull publicity stunt
to be re elected - ha) whereby
Beatle browed, foo fighting
foreigners, survivors impressed, feted,
compensated... for service
unless they willingly volunteer.

Combination future pluperfect
birthday presents and Noel hi
Christmas gifts well nigh,
noah ark cake "FAKE" attempt,
to hoodwink, engine ear,
trunk hate, et cetera
drum, harp, trumpet... belie
including objective to shanghai,

nor fall out of good amazing graces
toward (me) garden variety generic guy
providing steadfast generous
figurative air supply to fortify,
revving me shaky talent,
ye may oft times decry
as unintelligible gobbledygook

brainstorming ideas to try
single handedly ambidextrously
poetically kindle indeed codify
to elucidate how transportation
car reared and gone awry
moderate expenses as original parts wear out,
(i.e. battery, fender, brakes, 
hood latch, shock absorber, tires...

albeit almost all simultaneously), hence I sigh
aware expounding circumstance that doth defy
immediate resolution incumbent to pacify
troubleshoot immediate impasse
squarely render quintessence
problem solving the overriding 
challenge, I vilify.

Crooked Bow

Lament was so excited
He had finally reached the age
Where he discovered the meaning
Of his name, so that he could gage
....his future

As the clan gathered
Into a circle around the fire
Tears of sorrow and grief
Lined their faces, as he began to desire
....no name

His "father" spoke a truth
Nothing or no one wanted to hear
"You were left in the woods
After the battle, so we took you into our fear
...of the gods

No child is to be left alone
But you are not part of our clan
We vowed to raise you
Until this day, when you become a man
...of no land

Your name means sorrow and grief
And identifies you as a bastard child
No matter where you go
Your name will cause you rejection, like the wild
....animal without a home"

Lament picked up his belongings
And walked away with crooked bow on his back
He finally understood the why
Of  his life, always needing, and constant lack
....of basic necessities

Along his journey, he met a man
A wanderer in the desert of time
He gave him a huge bag of  goods
That would entertain, as he dealt with his mind
....of intense rage

A few years down the road
He met a woman with a red coat
Who offered him wine for sorrow
And a harp, to play out, note by note
...his grievances

By the time Lament saw the next man
He yelled out, "I can't carry anymore stuff!"
The man, in patient assurance
Asked, "So you have had enough
...of seeking your own?"

Lament laid down his burden
And walked away from all he had known
For the hope of seeing fruit
From the constant toil and struggle, in the seeds he'd sown
...throughout his journey

After decades of walking with the man
Lament was given a brand new name
His name became Isaac
Laughter, in sorrow, means he would never be the same
...bastard, as before

He found out who his true father is
He created the ground Isaac walked upon
Every moment with with the man
Strengthened and solidified, the eternal bond
...of belonging

One day, the man asked Issac
"Where is your bow that made you a man?"
He answered, "It was crooked
So I left it behind, with the clan
...who gave me my name"

Toward the end of his life
Isaac met a clan member on the road
Who shouted out, "Lament"
But Isaac didn't respond, to the name with a goad
...of rejection

He walked on....fully accepted

Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-20-2019
Form: Rhyme

Chaucer Translation: Welcome Summer

Welcome, Summer
by Geoffrey Chaucer
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather
and driven away her long nights’ frosts.
Saint Valentine, in the heavens aloft,
the songbirds sing your praises together!

Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather.

We have good cause to rejoice, not to scoff,
since love’s in the air, and also in the heather,
whenever we find such blissful warmth, together.

Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather
and driven away her long nights’ frosts.



Whoso List to Hunt
by Sir Thomas Wyatt
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Whoever longs to hunt, I know the deer;
but as for me, alas!, I may no more.
This vain pursuit has left me so bone-sore
I'm one of those who falters, at the rear.
Yet friend, how can I draw my anguished mind
away from the doe? Thus, as she flees before
me, fainting I follow. I must leave off, therefore,
since in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Whoever seeks her out, I relieve of any doubt,
that he, like me, must spend his time in vain.
For graven with diamonds, set in letters plain,
these words appear, her fair neck ringed about:
"Touch me not, for Caesar's I am,
And wild to hold, though I seem tame."



Brut
by Layamon, circa 1100 AD, an excerpt
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Now he stands on a hill overlooking the Avon,
seeing steel fishes girded with swords in the stream,
their swimming days done,
their scales a-gleam like gold-plated shields,
their fish-spines floating like shattered spears.



If you see a busker singing for tips, you're seeing someone carrying on an Anglo-Saxon tradition that goes back to the days of Beowulf …

He sits with his harp at his thane's feet,
Earning his hire, his rewards of rings,
Sweeping the strings with his skillful nail;
Hall-thanes smile at the sweet song he sings.
—"Fortunes of Men" loose translation by Michael R. Burch


Keywords/Tags: Chaucer, rondel, roundel, welcome, summer, sun, winter, weather, frost, songbirds, song, love, night, nights, ice, icy, heaven, heavens, sky, Wyatt, hunt, busker, thanes, Anglo-Saxon, Beowulf
Form: Roundel


Hit 'Em Up Collaboration With Brenda Chiri

I write like bakers bake
my rhymes make earth shake
Going into contest with me was your biggest mistake
I control the earths plates, tectonics, your rhymes are bollocks
I cause land slides and earthquakes
I don't hate but I do devastate,
Is the rhythm of your rhyme hidden?
I'm going back and forth with my decision
I'd like to think it's something I'm missin'
but I cant see it in what you've written,
You stagnate rhymes
I contemplate the punishment for these crimes,
don't harp that you'll defeat me 
I'm a giant you can't even see me
Now back and forth like red and meth I hand you over to little missy,
you pissed us both off so we share a rhyme to make you look silly.......... 

Your rhymes don't even matter
my pockets is gettin' fatter
Yours getting flatter
When you heard the glass shatter
That means me and my homies gathered
Now you bout to feel the wrath of
Somethin' that you wished you hadn't of
And all I can say is back up because I'm bout to act up
It might not concern you but
I'll thermonuclear burn you, you're a human sacrifice
Cuz I be smashing mics with the Passion of Christ and 
Stay fully loaded, equipped with action devices 
Me n trim shady here to party like Tom Brady 
We stay cooler than an Eskimo baby 
V is for Victory, we mastered your trickery
Tryna clock like dickory, get smoked like hickory
So please stop the bickery, you can't get rid of me 
Fire colabs from here to infinity 

you heard her infinity
even with a radar and map you cant find our reality 
we're in another galaxy 
you've barely the ability of a fetus 
how dare you compete with us
 and this U S U K special relationship isn't putting you at a handicap 
it's natures act, you can't rhyme or rap 
put your dick between your legs and make a tail 
walk away with your head down cus your insults fail, 
the only insult that landed is that you went up against us
 with terrible stale dribble 
that you squiggle 
all brainless and minimal 
like an unevolved mammal 
writing without the opposable thumb by miracle 
sounding dumb and undesirable,
when I read it I became miserable, 
I desire a quick fire high flyer 
like me with quick wit that aspires but you were dire 
and dim, you aint no Trim,
you're a fool who should return to school. 

collaboration with Brenda Chiri
first and third Trim
second Brenda
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Into the Godly Realm - Let Us Go

(Rev. 21: 1-7 /  Rev. 21: 10-27  /  Rev. 22: 1-6  /  Rev. 4: 1-6  /  Dan. 7: 9, 10, 13, 14, 18 & 27)



Into The Godly Realm … O’ Let Us Go
Into The Splendiferous, Shining Sector!
To The Spiritual Site Where Ultra-Love Glows
by the Vibrant, Blindingly-Brilliant Light-Vector

Into The Godly Realm … O’ Let Us Go
GOD Has Invited Us Into HIS Kingdom!
The Resplendent, Royal City of Emerald Rainbows
& Radiant Pearl & Gold & Glass-Sheen-Domes

… Where Thunders, Horns & Harp String Tones
Join With Angels & Kings In Hallelujahs’ Choir-Songs!
and Residents Greet Citizens In True Fashion ‘Shalom’
and Are Welcomed Like Beloved Children Come Home

& Share The Fruit of Trees –  Sweetest Ever Known
A Righteous Reaping & Keeping Paradise Beautifully Grown
as Crystal Fountains & Rivers, Bubble Forth & Shone
… in The Sparkling Waters of Life’ Gleaming Zone!

… O’ Let Us Gaze In Awe – In Meek Gratitude
At The Greatness & Grandeur of GOD’s Estate!
Let Us Whisper In Respect-Muted Admiration
with Wiped Feet As We Walk A Street Called Faith

Let Us Gather ‘Round Devotedly – As A Great Crowd
Read Inscriptions On The Precious-Gem Cornerstone
of The City’s Foundation, As Opened Fortress Beckons
To Jeweled Temple & Ancient of Days, Treasure-Throne!

Walk With Baited Breath & Bowed Hearts & Heads
As Joyful Tears Pool In Our Beaming Eyes!
As Into The Godly Realm … We Have Ventured
& Entered ‘The Archway’ Supports For All  Skies

O’ My Brothers, My Sisters, My Family & My Friends
O’ Let Us Go … Into The Glorious Godly Realm …
Where We Have Been Invited To HIS Garden Party
Where Each One of Us Will Get To Speak … with HIM!

All You HIS Faithful Ones – Who Awaited Kingdom Come
O’ Let Us Go … Into The Glorious Godly Realm …
To The Place Where The Holy of Holies Is Situated
O’ Get A Glimpse of  Heavenly, New Jerusalem!

Into The Glorious Godly Realm … O’ Let Us Go!
Up To Clouds & Zion’s Mountain-Top Location
As Earth Becomes – The Global Promised Land
Yes, Humans’ Own Homefront, Habitat Space-Station

(Yes, This World’s First Honorable United Human Nations)

… and Into The  Godly Realm … GOD Will Let Us Go
… into The Splendiferous, Spectacular Sector!
Into The Spiritual Area – Where Eternity Roams
Close To The Vibrant & Blindingly-Brilliant, Light-Vector


                           Written & ©:  7/13/2013

                           By:  The MoonBee

The Alps

I walked outside in the scorching heat moving papers and turning over pages just looking for that one line that goes back to the middle ages. The search was long, the documents were strong and the paragraph sits at the bottom with the exact words about the controversial land. Moses was deceased, Joshua was bequeathed and mimiram joined the crew when her leprosy 
came through.   

I traveled to Vatican City to view the writing form the thirteenth century there were piles and piles of them standing in a row but I had nowhere to go and I could not move any of them.  

I had to view them with a magnifying glass or the whole thing would have fallen apart .I walked along the Vatican city underground and there were museums all around with documents that goes back to the creation of the earth but they were all sealed up in dirt. 

Something caught my eyes from the back and I continue to move my eyeball over the lines to see what historical data I could find. I just wanted to fit the pieces together until I could uncover the secrecy, and just when I thought my long search was done a cockroach crawl up from the corner and there it was staring at me, the very line that illustrate my dignity. A thousand cameras pointed at me from every angle, I could not touch or move a thing until the vessel I had memorized the plaintiff hymn. 

The Priest kept juggling on the floor and the Roman soldiers keep asking for more, the theater was where it all began with a harp a violin and a harmonica riding on the gondola and singing a song. They were all playing for me as the discovery breaks the bonds of history to uncover an age-old mystery, the authentic crowd docked on the other side while I continue to hold up my pride and the gondola drift.   

I try to fit the piece together so I went on a hurricane ride and landed in Peru and made my way to the city of Cuzco to connect the dots and explore the salt mine of maras and when I got what I wanted I made my way to France and visit the Mount Blanc and made a bond with Eifel tower. When the research was over, I clocked in nine hundred million dollars  for a Zig Zag line and a marking on a cave that was divine.  

And so the evidence was right in front of me to prove the murder in the first degree and a global fraud in the second degree. You must make haste and come and see me.

Finding Bobby Mcgee

She bares the marks of a life lived hard, her face the giveaway.  Faint scar above her brow, chipped tooth, deep furrows that should be gentle crow feet to compliment her gorgeous eyes.  She used to be pretty, now a concrete blonde of fading beauty.  Named Roberta as a baby, but the few, privy to this information have since taken it to the grave, to all who ebb and flow from her life, simply Bobby.

Bobby wandered into town, who knows when.  Her faded blue jeans slid forward on the weathered wooden bench outside the general store.  From the recesses of her mind, she could recall only one occasion from her childhood when a dress draped her lanky frame.  She hated it so much it was unceremoniously discarded, playing outside in her nickers at a 10th birthday party.  From that day forward, only jeans.  She never wore jewellery, her only adornment was a tarnished belt buckle sitting over the top of her  Buckskin shirt.  Bobby’s battered hat sat propped over her knee, she held a Coke as she waited on the bench.

It had been more than half a century since he saw Bobby.  The pained, memory of her hair swaying, catching the golden sunlight on her back as he watched her walk away.  Now, as he climbed the veranda, he knew it was her, faded, like his memories, but the, ever young, eyes, danced with life and he was drawn to them once again.  Neither spoke as he eased his body onto the bench, their legs pinched together.  A light breeze filtered through the thoroughfare, causing the rusty sandwich sign to creak and grown.  He pulled his blues harp from the top pocket of his shirt and his breath eased across the chords.  Bobby chuckled before she sang.

His lips stopped moving, he smiled with the realisation that at 78 years, he was trading what was left of his tomorrows for this moment in time.  He slid his hand over Bobby’s and went still.  Bobby held him for a long time, she sobbed.  Tears flowed for a misspent life, sobbed for what could have been, sobbed at the cost of her freedom as it dawned on her that It wasn’t just another word for nothing else to lose.  The floodgates opened as she truly lost.

Bobby stood on the highway, thumb out.  The horizon held the ominous sign of approaching rain.  An old diesel truck pulled up and she climbed aboard, she lifted the harmonica and said, “Do you want me to play?”
Form: Prose

A Last Note

Just to warn anyone who reading this I do NOT claim to be a poet. Nothing in 
here rhymes or anything. Just some crap I wrote. I know the devil thing is a bit 
over used. Oh and if someone could tell me the form of this I would thank you. I 
feel a bit moronic putting down I don't know.


So very long ago
I made and played the angels suffering
So very long ago
I stole the souls
Their bones did make the body's gruesome tune
The strings were made of love ended to soon
I could I make it sing
I made that damned angel scream for me
So very long ago

 


I did play the sins of old
So many broken played to death
No one made me feel inept
No, no they could not end the way I played
The scream of murder done
Sweeps telling of harmful love
Oh how I played
Taps telling of the death march
Rhythm of a mothers tears
To her, her daughter was so dear
The plinks of the blood drops

 Yet someone always clapped for me
Down below beneath my feet

 So very long ago
The devil clapped the earth would shake
The daemons foot would tap and damned men would cry
Down below beneath my feet

 


As it goes I did find the end for my long bloody road
Entering the place unclean the people beaten they'd heard of me
She sat in the corner
I shook with rage, it been so long since I heard her play
Been so long since I buried her face

 


She played
I could feel the woes I made undone every love and a mother's touch
The notes sang of an angel free, forgiving me
Oh a corrupt broken man did cry
They sang of trust unbroken
They sang of blood un spilled
Souls unchained
The strings sang so sweet
 
The strings of misery broke as the happiness in the playing twisted me
Make it stop

That happiness was the greatest cruelty
I stood once more
MY angel screamed
Its pain unleashed I played long into the night
She ended me
Her harp changed every scream
To a lover's lust
And every tap to the sound of beating a heart
The sweep to the sounds of celebration
Make it stop

 
My fingers grew tired my hands cold
I had made my misery others to long
One last act
The bell toll
The last waltz and the fiddlers price
The price for putting me below

 


My fiery home
The devil still claps
My angel still screams
But now she also weeps
And her harp lies silent

So long ago
Form:

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