Long Imagine Poems
Long Imagine Poems. Below are the most popular long Imagine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Imagine poems by poem length and keyword.
H ate is not a pretty thing
A ll who hate miss many joys
T hrills with friends, elated songs that ring
E ven their children caring, sharing toys.
I n some places throughout this world
S ad are little boys and girls.
N o one can know how they feel
O nly those who mourn such loss as
T hey, who’s folk passed in killing fields.
A n unnecessary loss has
P ut a signature on every broken heart
R emembering such tragic scenes
E ach child and adult do impart
T he horrors of death they have seen
T hey’ll cry mourning tears; suffer scary dreams
Y ou can’t imagine all the pain.
T hey lose loved ones never seen again
H ope will be lost by generations
I n every heart, such disdain
N ot only in their tragic nation
G od is the only one who can heal their pain.
I smell the essence of your being
On the warm summer air
As the wind tickles my face
Like small strands of your hair.
The breeze carries the sound
Of your beating hearts song
As mine finds its rhythm
And joins right along
I imagine you close
And your touch I almost feel,
Wishing this beautiful illusion
Was something more real
How I long just to see you
And kiss your soft cheek
Even though our parting
Has been only a week
That blissful moment we spent
Still fresh and so clear
A moment to be kept
And forever held dear
So I’ll stay in this daydream
And be reminded of you,
Until our next moment we share
On another day bright and new
My mother-in-law and father-in-law
Lost their daughter Suzy on June 2nd 2015.
It was a Tuesday.
I’ll never forget.
It was so hard to watch their stoic pain.
I can’t imagine… I’m a mother too.
I can’t imagine what they were going through.
Watching their child die, it was so unfair.
She had an adult form of Muscular Dystrophy
And she was on disability.
Then all of a sudden one day she couldn’t stand.
And to our horror she was diagnosed
With a very aggressive case of Leukemia.
She was gone just a few weeks later.
So, sudden and sad, so cruel and incomprehensible.
There were five children total but now there were four.
Then just ten years later, their youngest son out of three,
Who also had MD and was in a nursing home, also on disability.
Wheelchair bound, younger than most there, but happy.
Not the best way to live one’s life.
But he was smart and funny and had a nice personality
He had lots of friends there, and made the best of it.
Then all of a sudden, this man in his forties,
Wasn’t feeling so good.
The nurse took his blood pressure,
And looked away to write it down,
And when she looked back he was gone.
I watched these two people yet again lose another
Only now a son.
What would I do, how would I cope, how I would suffer?
Then poor Mary, my mother-in-law,
But more just Mother.
Took one more punch to her gut.
When the night before her son’s remembrance,
Her husband, of so many years, couldn’t take this
Loss yet again.
His poor heart and soul decided to join his beloved children.
This woman, this mother, her strength so incredible
In her sorrow, she’s my hero.
Despite all her loss and pain this matriarch,
And what know,
Is she will always be there for her remaining brood,
Including me,
Into tomorrow.
Because that’s what she is wired to do,
But more importantly she wants to.
She’s so beautiful and awesome and I will always love her!
I see my father mirrored image reflected back to me
In John's Lennon's small rounded glasses frames
Straddled upon again my father's nose which he often loved to pick
And this i noticed instantly the very fist time I seen a picture of
his face
Which i think is the reason why I feel I have An infinity or feel a connection or bond with him although
In reality I realize I probably don't
It's just something that makes me smile and reminds me of my dad
And what I alone in my head
Imagine
Either of them would say If only
Either of them we're still alive
And found themselves in the same place at the same time
I also imagine they could have possibly been friends
As both of them we're 2 young angry men from Liverpool
Who never had anything good or positive thing to say about their childhood's growing up
And why I find it so easily to identify with his lyrics and emotive choke strained voice
Because my father sounded exactly the same to me
John wrote Mother you never wanted me
Father why did you abandoned me
Paul said Mother Mary come to me
Let it be
Both poet's crafted by default via emotional traumatic damage caused
A Beatle forged by a grand desire wishing to fly away
As was Paul and may well be the reason he named his band Wings
And why my dad joined the navy in order to sail anywhere else far and way
Because he felt as if he had stayed he would feel like a bird who had his wings clipped
But I digress returning to the initial point I wished to make was this
Thanks to my Dad for in some way to me appears to resemble John Lennon
Because he is still to this day very famous luckily for me every now and then
If only for a fleeting passing moment I don't have to actually imagine or remember what he
looked like
I have a dark passenger always with me.
All of us do actually.
Each and everyone of us has the capability
to imagine the most unimaginable darkest thoughts ever to be,
we all just tend to not indulge our dark passenger instinctively.
No one in their right mind at any time
desires to remain in a constant darkest state of mind,
that is until the dark passenger fully arrives.
The dark passenger makes its appearance generally
during those periods we have termed "insanity."
When one embraces thoughts of darkness regularly,
the dark passenger will make a full appearance inevitably.
There isn't anything wrong with viewing the occasional horror movie,
but I wouldn't recommend viewing them over and over again repeatedly.
It would only serve to fuel and strengthen your dark passenger's entity,
and so I guess that the moral of the dark passenger story
is to indulge your dark passenger very carefully.
Live your life as stress free as can possibly be
and your dark passenger will remain at a distance of relative safety.
If that doesn't work,
then there's probably something very wrong with you neurologically
and if I were you, I would seek professional medical help ASAP!
Like a song, lifting the spirit
Caressing the soul with such gentleness
Promising hope in each tender whisper
A kindness that assures the heart
There is always a new day, a second chance
Simply pray, expecting His grace
Like a prayer, whispered with faith
Knowing His mercy will pour out His response
The reply to a plea for serenity, sincerity
Breathless moments of satisfying
Helpless words, yet so much promise
In the heart of those who know Him
Feeling His contentment pour over each thought
Each breath, each sigh, each appeal
His promises reveal the truth of His goodness
Like a ballad, stimulating the heart
Stirring the joy inside where there is hope
So alive it rings laughter through the world
Thrilling the thoughts, blessing the mind
Inspiring the dreams of those who believe
He is alive and He is always moving,
Exciting the spirit with a tenderness, assurance
That His love is enough..
Like a desire, more intimate that laughter
Moving through the soul, blending
Passion, praise and promise… endlessly
Releasing the heart from its darkest doubt
Encouraging the spirit to trust, to imagine
To reach beyond the hesitation to the heart
Assurance rained down into the soul
Where every breath knows God’s warmth
Love that is more alive than anything ever felt before
Re-live the nineteen-sixties? Don't! We all
imagine mop-tops, surf, free love and sun,
conveniently forgetting Watts, De Gaulle,
the Tet Offensive, Audrey Hepburn's nun.
Imagine! Mop-tops, surf, free love - and sun!
Transistor radios, Italian suits!
The Tet Offensive? Audrey Hepburn? None
of those can overshadow kinky boots!
Transistor radios. Italian suits
the spirit of the age - la dolce vita!
No woes can overshadow kinky boots,
The Fugitive, short skirts, the parking meter!
The spirit of the age! La dolce vita!
Your Normal Joe thinks former times were "swell":
The Fugitive, short skirts, the parking meter!
To get to know Uhura, really well!
Your Normal Joe thinks former times were "swell".
He wants to join the Enterprise's crew,
to get to know Uhura really well,
and satisfy that inner yearning, too.
He wants to join the Enterprise's crew,
conveniently forgetting Watts, De Gaulle,
and satisfy that inner yearning to
re-live the nineteen-sixties. Don't we all?
"A bit of kindness is like a lot of love"
by Constance La France
kindness is like the motherland of love
a place like home where one belongs
words can touch the soul
but they are extra special
when touched with kindness
the black country
is a land dark with pollution
steel factories I imagine a source
of the dark clouds
but even in this dark world
love can be found and admired
I have a friend who is very kind
and she loves her tomato soup
with parmesan cheese
do they eat tomato soup
in the Black Country
I imagine they do
I imagine they do
There is more to this law than just saving a child’s life.
It’s the governments control of your daughter or wife.
My thoughts on abortion will always be a moot point.
Morality is something only God should anoint.
In an ideal world, our children would be raised right.
There will always be evil that lurks in the night.
There are perverts and rapists, and those who seek power.
We also have the righteous in their Ivory Tower.
Imagine your pregnant wife had a complication tomorrow.
Would you do all that you could, even beg, steal or borrow?
Think of that doctor who just gave you the bad news.
Abortion is against the law, so you must pay your dues.
Your wife and unborn child are now both doomed to die.
There are no exceptions, it’s illegal and that’s why.
Our government shouldn’t dictate, what’s morally right or wrong.
It’s the woman’s choice, and that’s where it should belong!
The other day in the bookstore…this I truly believe
I was blessed with one of the nicest compliments I have ever received.
I just opened the bookstore…a new day had begun
when a mother walked in smiling…right behind her was her son.
She said her son remembered me from the last time they were in the store
(can you imagine that!)
and he wanted to come in and say hi…to that nice man in the hat.
She said, you probably don’t remember us…
“Of course I do. I made him an origami frog.” I said.
“Yes!” She smiled his name is Miller and he keeps it next to his bed.”
I smiled and said ‘Hi Miller!”
He smiled, said hi while waving his little hand in the air…
then they headed to our Children’s section
where Mom read him a book as he sat in his favorite chair.
She bought the book and I had a chance to look Miller in the eye
when we both smiled at one another as we said goodbye.
This got me thinking about the power of kindness…
how we never know…
when it comes to small act of kindness
how far that that kindness will go.
How it could begin with a simple act…the tiniest of threads
like a little origami frog…that sleeps next to a bed…
As far as Miller goes I can’t think of anything sweeter than that…
And as for me…
I can’t think of a better way to be thought of…
Than that nice man in the hat.