Long Idea Poems

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


Premium Member Intrusive Thoughts

Written: June 07, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh

            ********************

The Phantom Choir

In the quiescence of last Sunday,
Prophecy heralded the hour past two,
I heard a whisper at hibiscus dawn—
a seamless voice I swore I always knew.

In blissful flutter—it said night was wide,
Chrysalis sorrow stirs a bed for fools,
that in the hush, when hearts collide,
The lost willows are left to wade in pools.

Facing the kernel until the street thinned,
And my shadow’s sepals bled away,
Rusted voice strings within me spoke again—
It's hymn frills poised for slow decay.

The Hollow Pact

Will I wake to descry my cracked mind,
emptied of all its sharpened teeth?
Will murky echoes break their binds,
Or gnaw beneath the sheath?

The alchemy battle sparks, but I am dust—
wispy strands, a soldier tied in flimsy chains.
Each idea erodes the periwinkle ones I trust,
while the weight of stress remains.

You graze me with a maze—why do I stand so still?
Resurrection of the soul—so why shake your hands? 
But dread can have its way to fulfill—
The transcendence of love is lost in vicious demands.

The Third Mourning

Wise chakras buried beneath the walls I built,
the zen voice still scrawls its wordless plea.
It concedes my yantra’s vulnerability, my guilt,
peers where peacock pleadings wane into a spree.

It hums inside the tremors of sapphire light,
I close my eyes as it runs over lily-filled shorelines.
Bits of lunar-glazed silver dust grow in quiet nights,
and procrastinated pledges become lies.

In my dour dreams, it tells me not to resist—
“You know that silken shivers favor sound.”
Amid cyan azure peace, I learn misery persists,
for flickers of love fear the burial mound.

The Acoustic Waltz

In nocturnal dryness—sing soft verses in the dark,
claims the enamored inked words are not hers.
She plucks cerulean hymns without leaving a mark,
The tune of her carved kohl was lost in slurs.

She sways in the russet yarns of neon glow,
bows beneath the ricochet’s wild haze—
a phantom waltz in katabatic motion, moving slow.
a cosmic voice garden, too faint to truly be a maze.

Her pocket holds a ring of black gem glass,
won as a child’s dare, a piece of smitten ink.
She warms it, sighs, and watches it pass
through flaming flecks—hands that fight to sink.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


The Dogs We Called Family

The Dogs we called Family

Tara came first and then there was Ben,
When both of them died we said never again.
Then Sam the runner, got killed in the street,
Prince came and went quick, we didn't know he was sick.
He came from a farm where distemper was rife,
Took him to the vet where he ended his life.
One year had to pass to get our house clear,
Without a mutt there, it seemed without cheer.
One day I was out and the Pound I happened to pass,
I doubled back and I looked through the glass.
Inside I walked, many dogs ignoring my stare,
Until one at the end looked up at me square,
Sat on her haunches both paws outstretched.
She's the one, I knew, so my family I fetched.
I said nothing to them of the dog I had seen,
When they saw the same one I knew they were keen.
The dog was due for the jab that very hour,
To save her life now was in our power, you see.
We paid the fee for her life, Our Lucy was free.
She was the new member added to our family of four,
She lived with us and loved us for 19 years more.
While she was with us we had another to add,
Along came Jamie the Yorkie,he was a bit of a lad.
Like Ben he stayed near ten years and sadly passed.
Lucy died of old age, we said it's time to give in.
Our Garden Cemetery of loved ones was full to the brim.
To Cyprus we came to retire and live in the sun,
Of a dog in the family we didn't want one.
Then a visit to Larnaca was to change our life again,
Because along came Lexi to start it all over again.
She was soon followed by Levi, he was a lively one,
Then came Eli, the whirlwind and pain in the bum.
So from just us two forever as we'd planned,
Now we were five and life was once again grand.
A sad day loomed we had no idea of what was to come,
Levi was walking wrong so we took him to the vet
He had hurt his spine, as bad as it could get.
His rear end gave out and could not be reversed.
He was paralyzed, and getting steadily worse.
The love he gave us in his life reduced us to tears.
The vet said it's time he confirmed our worst fears.
We let him go to where he could romp with all the rest,
All the dogs in our family, they were the best.
With Tara and Ben, Jamie,Charlie the Pinscher and Lucy too
Neo the Collie  and Big Ben & Storm the Rottweilers two,
Newfoundland Curtis and Demon the Chow,
All Pals together, in the Big Kennel now.

© Dave Timperley May 5th 2016
Form: Epitaph

Him Too, Or the Drowning Femenist, Part I

Dylan Carston was a well-off young man,
thanks to a large and health trust fund,
his father was a true Wall Street ace
and had been quite generous to his sons.

Dylan had set himself up in Miami
after years spent getting his MBA,
he did consulting four days every week,
the other three he did like to play.

He’d partied with friends at all the bars,
and had his share of hot one-night stands,
not yet had he thought of a wife and kids,
he was enjoying the life of a young man.

One Saturday as he walked down the beach
to get exercise and breath the sea air,
he stumbled upon a frantic woman
calling for him to go over there.

As he drew near he saw down in the sand
a young woman who’s face had gone blue,
he could see no lifeguard near where they were,
but fortunately he knew what to do.

He found no pulse when he listened close,
and placed two hands high on her left breast,
with hard compression he began CPR,
pumping furiously at her chest.

Every so often he placed his mouth on hers
and forced oxygen deep into her lungs,
the other woman ran off to find more help
while Dylan continued the rhythmic pump.

Finally after three desperate minutes
a gurgled rasp echoed up from her throat,
life returned to her, the blue fading out,
though her eyes still knew not where to go.

Moments later he heard the rush of feat,
the lifeguard and the woman had returned,
Dylan gestured to where the girl lay,
“I brought her back, now I think it’s your turn.”

The lifeguard thanked him for taking action,
then knelt down slowly at the victim’s side,
ambulances came, reports were fill out,
when Dylan left three hours had gone by.

He felt good about saving the woman’s life,
it was a moment he would not forget,
congratulations came in, on top of that
the lifeguards sent him a certificate.

Three weeks went by and Dylan returned to
the safe routines of the everyday world,
and bit by bit his thoughts turned away
from the near death of that helpless girl.

So it was with a great deal of surprise
when a process server told him these words:
“Dylan Carston, you’re being sued for assault,
you can consider yourself dully served.”

Dylan’s mind whirled at the accusation,
he had no idea how this could be true?
Had some ex regretted their time and cried ‘rape,’
were they evil enough to go down that route?

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

And Yet

When thinking of me,
I find myself of two distinct minds.
When thinking of me,
I don't know which to listen to.

One is confident, filled with strength.
I take care of myself,
so that I may take care of others.
I spend time the way I wish,
with those whom I wish,
and where the group wishes.

One is pathetic, filled with confusion.
I have no idea why not one
will let me take care of us, of her.
I spend time imagining spending time,
with one who shares my thoughts,
one that my heart desires.

When a soft song plays
and I imagine what could be,
I wonder at why I can't seem to pair
two minds into one.

Whether those be my two minds,
the strong and the sad -
or whether those be mine and another's;
both seem beyond my ken.

It's difficult to reconcile
one half that feels as though
I'm doing everything right,
continuing to be me, to live -
with the half that feels as though
I've never figured it out;
my longest liaison a matter of months, in twenty long years -
who am I to know or speak of love?

Part of me knows 'tis only occasional melancholy,
and yet it rears its head more often these days.
I've never been truly alone,
friends and family always my guides - and yet.

I know I treat passion with reverence,
and a lover with great respect - and yet.
I know I work to compromise and hold on,
to enchant and live every moment - and yet.

Poetry is said to melt hearts and connect minds,
and yet even that can't surmount whatever I face.
'Tis directly from the soul, the spirit, the everlasting,
'tis the greatest beauty I can create - and yet.

Electrifying and terrifying,
amazing and terrible, it ranges the spectrum.
I see awful men abusing but still possessing it,
and I've never been called an awful man.

And yet.

The first mind wonders why it's even a problem;
live your life, and she will come, or she won't.
Thinking about it causes naught but worry,
worrying about it naught but sadness.

And yet.

My friends say they don't like
seeing the second mind rear its head, not one bit;
citing me bringing a smile to others' faces,
and how I should be proud of that, at least.

And yet.

I know I should enter the blanket's folds,
a new, perhaps better day waiting at the other side.
After a night of dreadful thinking and painful writing,
a respite, a relief, a required and rightful rest.

And yet.

Obsession

10/10/2019

I tried to write today, but I couldn’t manage it.
You see, there’s a speck of dirt stuck to the paper.
I tried not to let it get to me, but to no avail,
And had already begun trying to get it off.
Scratching at it was no use, I couldn’t get under the thing.
And washing a paper would defeat the purpose.
It seemed impossible to pry off.
I can’t live with it in my sight, yet can’t throw it away.
I’ll have to take my mind off it somehow,
So I can rest easy tonight.
Just the thought of it will haunt me.
Tomorrow I can write again.


10/11/2019

I got another piece of paper today,
And had managed to get the speck out of my head,
Just long enough to get some thoughts out.
But something else is bothering me.
Now that I think about it, I can’t stop myself.
All the abnormalities of the patterns on the wall,
The crumbs on the desk,
Even the nearly invisible creases in this paper.
I need to get out a bit more,
There’s no way I can function like this.
I can talk more when I’ve dealt with this,
But for now this is all I can think about.


10/12/2019

I couldn’t go to sleep last night.
I had turned on the fan in my room,
But its spinning motion had fascinated me.
The quink motion blurs it together,
But if you focus on a single blade, following it,
It starts to become clear.
After a while I decided to get up.
There was nothing to do, but anything was better
Then staring at the cursed fan.
I found a rubber wall stick toy, molded into the shape of a dragon.
My brother probably got it from a teacher.
After spending the rest of the night trying to keep the wings apart,
I passed out.


10/13/2019

I can’t stay in this house,
The abundance of dust has only become more clear.
My brain won’t rest and I’m seeing things I haven’t before.
The edges of my nails that are begging to be cut,
The imperfections in the palms of my hands,
The papers not all in a straight pile,
The lines of my handwriting inhabiting them,
The dust scattered over the tables,
And the finger marks breaking the unity.
My head is spinning
And I can’t make it stop.
Round and round the ceiling goes.


10/14/2019

Ah, the beauty of sleep medicine.
I finally had a good night’s rest,
And I think I have an idea on what to write about.
Until next time, Journal.
And please, deal with the erase marks,
I need a break.


-Connor Lotts


It's Not Over Until It's Over

it's not over until it's over until God has His say
and it's not what it looks like until God has His way

when you look at a Pastor of anyone who's in service to the Lord God
you have no idea what they've gone through nor the things that weigh on their hearts
for it's not easy to be a true disciple and teacher of the Holy Word
it's not a walk in the park no matter what you have heard

King David was a true disciple, an anointed gift from God
he was a special type of man who possessed a contrite heart
he was given the huge responsibility of leadership over a nation
the people demanded much from him and had high expectations
a catastrophe occurred one day when all the women and children were taken
David's men were so grievously upset that they were physically shaken
they then became angry and bitter over what had gone down
they held David responsible and wanted to stone him into the ground
yet David himself lost two wives and he was also dismayed and discouraged
but as a true disciple of Christ he knew in God to be encouraged

David had a true calling, he was aware of his divine mission
he was appointed by the Lord God to take on the Great Commission
for whenever God has called on you 
there's not much that you can do
for you can't run and you can't hide from what of you God desires
and He'll equip you for the task by giving you all you'll need and require
and be you a Pastor, a disciple or a deacon and you feel you're at the end of your rope
encourage yourself in the promises of God and hold on to its hope

life may sometimes beat you up and knock you all about
but it's not over until it's over until God calls the final out
encourage yourself in the Lord and embrace His authority
you might be down to your last strike and He'll give you the victory
and even if the final bell has rung
it ain't over until God says its done
and even when you're down to your last shot
it ain't over until God says it's not
and even if it's fourth and long yet you can see the goal
trust in God to make the completion for He's in total control

it's not over until it's over not even when the fat lady starts to sing
as the Lord Our God has the last word when it comes to everything
the buzzer might have sounded, the clock has run out and you're down to the final play
but it's not over until it's over as long as God has something to say

Who Am I and Why Am I Me

WHO AM I AND WHY AM I ME

When I wake in the mornings to look at my day
I have to start out pushing my pain away

I know I have problems that I have to fight
But a person like me sometimes can’t sleep all night

I was in a wreck when I was 15 and I saw the light
I heard God say to me, it’s not my time, I wonder why he was right

So why did I live I don’t understand but I guess God knows why
Because he is the main man

I feel all people see is the beauty on the outside 
But they have no idea of all the pain I hide on the inside

I would walk for miles to help someone live 
Just to know they had smiles to give

I have always believed everything is meant for a reason
My pain is real and hard to describe, but God can change a season

Maybe the abuse that I went through is the reason 
I do what I do.  But that’s not a excuse to people that love you

It’s amazing to me how the world works in a mysterious way 
Because for me I have to wonder why I am here day to day

When I leave this world I hope I have done what was meant for me.  That is the 
reason we are all here is to be all we can be

Sometimes I have to cry, sometimes just be alone, and sometimes I have to scream 
at the unknown
It’s a pain within ourselves that no one can see, but it can hurt like hell sometimes 
to have to be me

I don’t understand my thoughts and why I feel this way 
But God had his reason for me in that wreck that day

I have a wonderful family, and I love them all so much and they love me.  So who 
am I and what am I suppose to be.

I am so sorry for the pain I have cause all of my loved ones but I feel deep inside 
you understand what is going on

The pain inside of me is from my soul, day to day I never know
You can’t understand it until you feel the pain I don’t show

I will fight to the end for the reason I am here, to be all I can be and I will be strong 
enough to see why I am me

When I go to bed I will defiantly pray that while I am a sleep God will give me a 
better next day.

I want others to know it’s not all just me, I just want to know who we are and we 
are suppose to be

I am going to sleep now because I am tired, but the women I was today, tomorrow 
will be retired.

All I want to know in life is who I am and why I am me, God didn’t say when he 
shined that light for only me to see


Cindy Malony
Form:

Crazy

My friends and I had midnight hide and seek
One had to stand by a tree and not peek
In my state of hiding great I was hard to find
My friends decided to just be unkind
They all got together and decided to hunt me down
I first hid in the river near my house and almost drown
When they walk close by me I silently move through the grass
It was very hard to see, but I crawled a long time and almost ran out of gas
Then I heard one say that they were going up and wait by the tree
I had an idea that made a way to make them see
A shadow that ran in the distance thinking that would be
I had my horse pull a little manikin to make them think it was me
My friends took their flashlight and shined it toward it
I thought I had them but one thing was clear they did not fall for it not a bit
They all laugh and started to call out my name
They all asked how the heck did you have time to pull that trick that was so lame
I did not answer so they kept on looking for me, but I was so quick 
Some of my friends started to get really mad and tick
I was a master of doing weird things they all knew what I can do
The night was still young and the grass was collecting dew
I decided to make a distraction once again
To think of it, it would probably make the night end
My friends finally surrounded my tree house
I was quiet, so quiet, more than a mouse
I had some rope in the tree house to make my escape
To distract them I made a loud noise like an ape
The tree that my tree house was in was at least forty feet up
I had some stash in my tree house a drink or two in a cup
My final hour is about to end I did not want my friends to catch me till I got to the tree
I took the rope and tide it on a branch and pushed off and that was the key
I landed on the garage roof and sneaked my way to the tree
My friends knew me to well that they plan things before I could see
They had a fish net ready for me to step into
I thought that was kinda wise and some what like pew
The few feet by the tree there was two of my friends that was ready
Up in the tree they both jumped down and pulled me up in the net fast and steady
They thought they had won, the person had to tag me before I touch tree
She ended up having to get something to stand on to reach me
I swung my weight back and forth till I ended up touching and the game ended
My friends and I were so full of surprises and that is what the game handed
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Snaps

Kim (one of my BFF) brightened with inspiration, “Oooo! Send him a sexy pic!”
“I’m NOT going to sext a guy out of the BLUE,” I grumbled, indignantly.

Kim turned to her phone, “No, No, of COURSE not.” She said as she texted.

“Come on” she said, as she pulled me off my chair and out the door. We raced over, on foot, to my friend Bili’s house (two houses away). We entered without knocking (as usual) and ran upstairs.

Bili lay on her stomach on her unmade bed, fiddling with her phone, ankles up and crossed but she twisted up to attention when we came in.
“What should we do first?” She said, as if there were a million things to do.

They set upon me and had my regular clothes off in a heartbeat. Like all makeovers, this had a prelapsarian purity - the ritual stripping down to blankness before rebuilding.

They quickly went through about half of Bili’s closet - selecting just the right combination of trashy and classy clothes designed to seduce.

They finally settled on a black slip under an ivory peignoir, stockings with garters and black strappy heels.

Kim twisted my hair up into a loose “Gibson Girl.”

“Hold still,” Bili said, as she grasped my chin and expertly blended red, gold and black glittery eyeshadows followed by lip liner and gloss. “This is just a quickie job,” she reminded me.

I stared at this strange version of myself in the vanity.

Kim frowned and looking around, she spread a pink scarf over the desk light to give the room a rosy glow. They went into studio mode - posing me in various ways from coquettish to bored lounging - suggesting expressions and taking endless pictures with my phone.

Finally, they were satisfied and handed me my phone. 
“Shall we go through them?” Bili asked

“Naah,” I said, “I’ll go through ‘em and pick one - or two.”

Later, at home, I looked through them - I looked SO different - and I had to admit - sexy even. But was that ME? I cringed, what if my mom saw these trashy, Kardashian-like photos somewhere?

I never sent them. I thought I’d have to explain it to my girls.
“HA!” They laughed, “We KNEW you’d never use ‘em” Bili said, as Kim shook her head “Nope.”
“It was fun though!” We all agreed.
.
.
.
NOTE: This is a pre-pandemic story from August 2019. I was 15 - the idea wasn’t to seduce this guy, it was to get his interest so he would ask me out . =]

The One That Got Away

"I love you"
These are the three ripe words that 
I wanted to whisper in your ears.
So, I
Fixed a date
You came
We met 
We spoke
But I couldn't propose:
Though tattooed on the tip of my tongue,
at my dismay it refrained to flow out.
Then,
I packed all my feelings and emotions in a box 
with a love letter clinched to it
and laid it on your desk.
Looking at the hourglass
Counted the time.
Zealously anticipating
for your arrival
But,
Unfortunately 
you were on sick leave.
Poor me
Carried the box
ran and hopped into a taxi.
Impatiently sitting, 
throughout the ride
yearning to meet you..
After reaching the destination
Carelessly forgetting the box,
restlessly I jumped down
Rushed to your flat
Found your name plate beside the door
Pressed on the calling bell
Faced your maid
With a fine clarification 
I stepped inside the hall
Not finding you
Confused I stood.
In a while,
Got to know
that you have been shifted 
to hospital;
Not knowing the address
and the exact location
I stumbled
Place to place..
In search of you
With a wrong information.
Cash had melted;
Looking my wallet
I sat on the street 
gaping at your photo,
that..I had stolen 
from your locker.
Hit suddenly an idea..
Thought of calling you
But,
In a hurry had left my
mobile on my table;
Recalling your number
I went to a telephone Booth
I tried and tried and tried..
With many failed attempts
I just heard the recorded voice
which repeatedly said:
"your call is not reachable"
My eye lids were twitching
prophesying something awful is to happen.
The clouds were shadowed by darkness;
And I returned back home
with a huge sigh;
Found my pillow 
Embraced ,
Cried my heart out,
Lay insomniac,
whole night
Thinking
Of YOU
I stay awake
Worrying,
What might have happened to you..!
The next day morning,
I found newspaper 
Headlines said:
"Airplane crashed due to turbulence"
Strange was to know..
Your name typed too..
under the missing passenger list.
Why such a shocking news ?!
Why the hell did he board the flight 
all in sudden with no clue?
Myself wriggled
On the floor..
Soul paralyzed
"Losing him"
~The Untold love~
The one who capriciously
got away from me
in a very 
short span 
of time.

3-7-2020
 
Second place in the contest.
Note:The one that got away poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Silent One.
© V. Deepa  Create an image from this poem.

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