Long Harshest Poems
Long Harshest Poems. Below are the most popular long Harshest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Harshest poems by poem length and keyword.
She grabbed at the quarter full pop bottle neck,
cream soda from Marsh’s,
and held like a truncheon, in the harshest
of voices
produced an otherworldly sound, GETOUT!!
“Give me a chance” and he stepped forward.
Stood aside her I moved towards
“****ing try it”
I’d never seen those eyes.
GETOUT!!
He turned and left.
He never normally got angry,
or swore.
I’d only heard him twice before.
Once as a just unwrapped Dunlop 65, badly hooked, hit the Irish Sea and brought blasphemy and profanity,
“Jesus ****ing Christ”
and as he handed me his driver an inappropriate hidden smirk from me,
his Sunday morning caddy,
for a couple of shots and 20p
The second at Elland road,
stood on the Gelderd End Kop,
Clarke swivelling before side footing in from twelve yards with me sat atop
a stanchion,
him stood behind,
“Get the f*** in” and he shook me as I cheered,
right arm aloft,
scarf tied on the wrist,
mimicking Sniffers celebration.
Sharing in the mass elation.
The best birthday treat.
It wasn’t our fight.
The adults crumbled.
We were let down on all sides.
Pre safeguarding times.
No support, no care.
Only the adults got choices,
not the era to listen
to five scared tyke voices.
LOST IN THE FRAGILITY OF DREAMS
In the fragility of dreams,
Life is not crazy as it seems,
Lost in the labyrinthine mind,
Shadows gambol as candles blind,
In the darkness, a chimney gleams,
Setting the stage for most extremes,
Honeysuckle spreads its fragrance,
A violin plays in cadence,
Laughter echoes in the background,
While silence makes the harshest sound,
Finding my way through this dream world,
Tossing and turning, down I'm hurled,
Waking up with a jolt, I feel
Torn between the real and reel,
Oh, for the sweetest dreams I yearn!
They are fragile, that I discern.
05.19.20
For Constance La France's "L" contest - new or old"
The streets remember every whispered prayer,
sirens hum lullabies through heavy air,
Broken bottles brighten beneath Bronx blocks,
kids spin on corners, drawing lines in chalk.
Graffiti wings sketch saints on the wall,
my abuela’s pasteles smell in the hall,
Corners carry chaos courage can claim,
yet Harlem heals me when I call her name.
Skyscrapers guard what we can't see,
Dreams break the streets where hope used to be.
Dawn dances determined, defiant, deep blue,
so I rhyme survival into something true.
Love grows wild in the harshest place,
we carve forever in a fleeting space,
Each echo embraces every enduring eye,
Harlem, you teach me how not to die.
In the ocean’s vast and boundless deep, where light begins to cease,
A world of silent shadows casts a spell of tranquil peace.
Abyssal creatures, luminous with bioluminescent glows,
Paint streaks of light amidst the dark, where the deep ocean flows.
Jellyfish, like floating lanterns, illuminate the sable sea,
Drifting through the eternal night, in a ghostly, drifting spree.
Anglerfish, with lures of light, beckon through the abyssal plain,
A mesmerizing, glimmering beacon, in this tranquil, liquid domain.
Deep-sea vents, like chimneys, exhale plumes so rich and hot,
Harboring life in warmth and wonder, in the frigid, sunless spot.
Whales sing their melancholy tunes, reverberating through the deep,
A melody of ancient travelers, where the ocean secrets keep.
Corals, intricate and delicate, in the depths, quietly reside,
Creating havens for countless beings, where life and beauty abide.
Squid flash iridescent signals, conversations in hues and shade,
A vibrant dialogue in colors, in the oceanic parade.
In the abyss, where darkness reigns and where pressures densely pack,
Life forms with resplendent light, revealing nature’s knack.
For even in the most inhospitable, in the harshest, deepest sea,
Life finds a way to dance and glow, in beautiful, pulsing glee.
May we find inspiration, in these beings of the deep,
Who illuminate their own paths, where light is scant and steep.
In the glimmers of the abyss, amidst the pressure and the dark,
There resides a quiet, enduring spark, an ever-persistent mark.
For in the vast and inky dark, where hidden wonders lie,
We glimpse the boundless potential, under the ocean’s quiet sky.
May we carry forth this luminance, in our journeys, far and wide,
A beacon of resilience and hope, in life’s ever-turning tide.
All the lives I built and then tore down
I always thought you’d be around
to see me win, to lose, to fail
but then came storms of the harshest hail
that segregated your touch from mine
and now I pace, just wasting time
thinking of the hands I knew
thinking of how I’d feel brand new
every time I had reached you
Have you forgotten the promise you made?
Or do you think of me as your prettiest mistake?
You placed your bets, under influence of lust
then woke up one day, coughed from the dust
Have you had time to reassess?
Is this really for the best?
If you exist, but only in my chest
So, send me a letter
a few words is fine
spell out for me why you can’t be mine
don’t keep me guessing
don’t have me fretting
you’re not yet a memory
not worth forgetting
The serene evergreen,
Always the same color screen,
Just different shades to be seen,
Green is the common theme,
A healing color scheme,
Branches streaming with activity,
Filling every little cavity,
Dancing with gravity,
There has to be a billion points,
A million joints reaching,
Into the air we're breathing,
Pointy bristles teasing us,
Some pleasing to touch,
Emitting so much energy,
From every extremity,
A remedy for what ails you,
Nature knows what to do,
Forever green in your view,
Proof you can make it through,
The harshest weather too,
If you just keep moving,
Reaching,
Proving you can make it,
Each action groove with the flow,
Blowing through the oxygen,
It's the fuel for the engine,
A billion points begin to open,
Accepting an ocean of energy,
Sending it to every extremity,
The evergreen may hold a remedy,
To the secret of longevity.
Modlitwa o wschodzie slonca
Kazdy Twój wyrok przyjme twardy
Przed moca Twoja sie ukorze
Ale chron mnie, Panie, od pogardy
Od nienawisci strzez mnie, Boze
Wszak Tys jest niezmierzone dobro
Którego nie wyraza slowa
Wiec mnie od nienawisci obron
I od pogardy mnie zachowaj
Co postanowisz, niech sie zisci
Niechaj sie wola Twoja stanie
Ale zbaw mnie od nienawisci
Ocal mnie od pogardy Panie...
--Jacek Kaczmarski
Dawn Prayer
To Your harshest judgments I resign myself
I am humbled by Your power
But protect me Lord from hatred
And shield me from contempt
Because You are boundless providence
The ineffable One
So give me refuge from hatred
And give me sanctuary from contempt
May Your wishes be carried out
Let Your will be done
But shield me from hatred
Deliver me from contempt, my Lord .
--translated by Christopher Johnston
It’s a sad day
when we forget Warriors
who've fought our Wars
a price they'll pay
brought home—changed
the soulful smile you miss
the nightmares you can't fix
chained to what they’ve endured
lingering trauma
what they have espied...
that boy who perished at sea
the soldier felled on the beach
brothers separated onto ships
both only sons of fraughted parents
what broke the heart...
whence the contract procures
is the clash of wills and the turmoil of man
whither they are bound, it guarantees
they’ll part with their
limbs torn
in drowning seas
in roiling crimsoned tides,
in disastrous flights
fallen from smoked skies
from the harshest deserts
of the desert storms
in extreme heated days,
in cold sands at night
in wide open terrain
their landmarks barren
I lift my head as I lay in bed this morn
thru my curved bay window
I peer out from my drowsy squinting eyes
to catch a glimpse of the black bird’s mimicry
he squaws a plaintiff’s alarm song
O low and behold…
I am the only one
parked on the Tuesday side of the street
reckon those came to forget
not one on my block had any memory of it
they aren’t touched as they should be
by simple procedures we must do
to celebrate, honor, or remember
to stand by the land of the free
to respect a marked day
It felt abandoning…
‘the importance’
‘the meaning of this day’
‘what it stands for’
‘what men and women died for’
Today is Veteran’s day
PTSD turns to psychedelic therapy
Promising body of work
Treatment resistant
High in the veteran population
Removing red tape
To research
What was approved,
alters perception
Function
Reset neural connections of brain
The Trauma
Fasttrack it
Stanford’s founding—88% reduction of PTSD
—Dr Vin Gupta
I Am Anaya
November 11, 2025
Veterans Day
When your heart touched mine,
There was joy – there was fire, more than just desire,
A promise melted every darkness, erased every shadow,
Taught me that the light could figure out my wants,
Shower me in feelings that remind me…
There is love!
When your soul met mine,
There was a sense of what life is about,
The music that pours out from the clouds,
The beauty beyond the moments that satisfy,
The wonder of a gentle that comes to life inside,
Trembling with poetry that will never die…
This is you and I…
When your spirit stirred my own light,
There was a sense of what it really means to love,
Without a reason – in even the harshest season,
With devotion that never stops believing,
Affection that always feels the sunlight’s gentle…
Peace everlasting…
When you and I came to be, struggling through the reality,
Life that reminds us – the truth will soon find us,
Despite the dreaming that keeps our hearts envisaging,
All the wonder of a lifetime together, the joy that comes from knowing,
Our love is overflowing – our love is always growing….
Together, we’ll always know,
The meaning of love that lasts,
Love that is present and past,
Love that reveals what it means…
To love more than anything!
Together – we’re ever sure that love,
Real love… can even stir up the skies,
With shimmering that never dies,
Sparkling, stars who abide,
Giving every hope inspiration to simply try!
Listen to the voice inside, prompting you to love,
Love that can silence every fear, assuring,
Throughout the years, with this love that is ever here,
Forever a part of the truth that reveals…
Love that keeps two hearts together, forever!
Far away in the remote woods...rarely visited by a soul...only mysterious birds trilling to each other,
came across an unyielding stone wall, by itself - no inscription on it,
made me wonder! why was it built! when was it built!
Surrounded by dense pines, and cedar,
branches touching the lonely solitary wall with doting adoration, spirally arranged needles, fern-like leaves, riveting cones, sprawling under.
Inseparable mates for countless years -
admired summer’s enthralling bliss, weathered harshest winters...together.
withstood so many severe storms, many frosty nights, blanketed by cruel piles of snow!
The wall remains silent, quietly bears an untold story -
is there a secret wish attached to the pillar? A lover's nest? did someone wish a recluse, an escape from the madding crowd?
Did someone wish to create a hidden sanctuary, to rest with a heavy heart,
when the world denied the yearnings, in passionate poetry longings burst!
The resolute wall witnesses all in stoic silence and a sigh!
October 6, 2020
For A Wall In The Woods Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
All Yours (March 26) Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand