Long Important person Poems
Long Important person Poems. Below are the most popular long Important person by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Important person poems by poem length and keyword.
I AM A VIP TOO
THIS MEANS A {VERY IMPORTANT PERSON} AS WELL
I DO TELL
A SPECIAL INDIVIDUAL ONE
MANY GIFTS AND TALENTS
THE PASSIONS FOR HELPING OTHERS
A MOTHER
A HOME-MAKER
A CARE-TAKER
A JANITOR
A MAID
A TRANSPORTATION PROVIDER
A COOK OR A CHEF
SPECIAL IN ALL TYPES OF WAYS
A SINGER
A MOTIVATOR
A GIVER
A PHILANTHROPIST
AN INSPIRING LEADER
A MOTIVATOR SPEAKER
WORKING FOR GOD IN THIS WORLD
NOT SELFISH
NOT WRECKLESS
CAREFULLY MADE
NOT FOR TRADE
I AM PRICELESS
WORTH AN HONOR TOO
A VIP PERSON, not all about you
FOR ALL THAT I DO.
A REWARD FROM HEAVEN ABOVE
FROM GOD PRECIOUS UNCONDITIONAL LOVE
WE ALL ARE SPECIAL IN SOME TYPE OF WAY
GIVING BACK TO THE COMMUNITY
FROM DAY TO DAY
A NURSE, A DOCTOR
A JUDGE OR AN LAWYER
A FAST FOOD WORKER
A TEACHER
MANY MANY MORE CAREERS OR JOBS.
SERVING THE COMMUNITY
TREATING EACH OTHER RIGHT
GIVING THE CREDITS
A PREACHER
A MISSIONARY
AN ENTREPRENEUR
ATTENDING SCHOOL
LEARNING THE TOOLS
A COLLEGE STUDENT
SO MANY MORE
GIVING GOD ALL OF THE GLORY
TELLING A STORY, AND MUCH MORE
A TESTIMONY, A PRAISE, A SONG OR TWO
OUR LIFE IS PRECIOUS
A KING OR A QUEEN
ON JESUS I LEAN.
THE MASTER OF ALL THINGS.
When her magic turns into tragedy
From the start you're the person I know,
But in the end you're the important person who I let go.
In the memories we made and shared,
And at last you're now gone, though I always cared.
When you lifted my strength and eased my sadness,
Mom, the flowers I brought are now my weakness,
Candlelight flickered like a dying ember in the wind.
Have blown in the wind with pain and regret.
I didn't reach you in time,
But I managed to reach your hand, close to mine.
The only last thing was in the hospital,
the news fell on me like a stone dropped in a still pool—silence followed each echo.
You're out of this world,
But I will never forget your reminder.
Mom, goodbye and I love you,
We will always be together.
Day in, and day out, from the ripe old age of five
I’ve take to sharp objects and whittled at their sides.
Plotting the precise angle with penetrating gaze,
the slant of slice, just so nice, as memory replays.
With curt tongue and tireless ire, I shred the sages
Burroughs, and Asimov, the Shakespeare past ages.
Butchering with rare delight, the language on the page
lancing every metaphor and simile upstaged.
and so I've arrived her in rhythm and in rhyme
killing the English language as other people dine.
*Nibbs are the pointed ends of fountain pens
as well as being an important or self-important person
*Image of A Fallen Smirk by DG.
Brace For Impact
Pillar of society, creme de la creme, important person,
one to be reckoned by indeed.
One who's untouched by palls, frails near a radiant ray
growing escorts doth proceed.
Voice of distinction whose speeches are unchallenged
by its assertion that's decreed.
Unphased episodes courses the agendas, a sequence
that discerns simper's precede.
A tempestuous dominance succeeds ominously, envy
malcontents opposition brews.
A reddish rosebud blossom pleasantly teases passing
precious sinless longing views.
Momentarily, likely hopefuls sufficed with promiscuity,
as castles are in the air amuse.
Tease now meets, precious turns valuable, the sinless
goes erringly, a longing peruse.
It's Victor Victoria all o'er again, contentious contempt
prompt convenient conveyance.
Spun wove a collaring, intrigues the unconscious prey
lifeline throbbings flit abeyance.
Reflections forfeited understanding, extending affairs
remaining heartfelt purveyance.
A cunning round effortlessly played a quagmire knew
a must to revisit the surveyance.
Gameplayers oriented with odds best strategy, ne'er
is an even field, someone loses.
The furnishings and ambiance, constant the unwary
yet, talented eyes espy cruises.
The vibrant and the figurative ignored the trappings
materializes oneness' enthuses.
Benumbed by skepticism facilitates a stirring, bestill
as mesmerizing coequals fuses.
Skulked fogs' ethereal coursing mauling hilltops full
as the penthouse lights dwindle.
Midst Aurora's wake a bliss wanes, as lights reclaim
the wilting as a mint thorn tingle.
The advent baffles confused as concealed cameras
videos live and reporters mingle.
Crushed stand, a ring falls, plays another team, not
alone, brace for impact, a kindle.
2022 June 22
*1st Place*
This or That, Vol 12
~~Edward Ibeh: Judging 2022 July 01
My mothers death shattered me- she was mom and friend,
I lost my anchor and became a cloud floating alone;
I watched mom, the most beautiful girl in the world,
according to dad, fade away with an illness with no cure.
She fought for years with bravery and courage,
at the end she was in a wheelchair and totally dependent;
she gave unconditional love and now it was time to pay it back.
Mom took a turn for the worse and was transferred to a hospital,
the doctor there told me she was dying within a few days;
what do you want to do, he asked, (Like what did that mean!)
he came to me after she started having convulsions with concern.
Saying, he could give her a medication to stop them but,
it would put her in a coma, (I hesitated cause mom could talk to me.)
but at 5 pm decided to let them give it to her to stop the convulsions.
My sister left weeping- I sat at mom's bedside waiting,
I felt her touch my hand and I looked at her and smiled, hi mom;
in a weak voice she said, I love you ____ and went into a coma,
I told them to turn off the machines and she flew up to Heaven.
We gave her a beautiful funeral- if a funeral can be called beautiful,
me, my sister and brothers united as one for mom to do that;
I held myself together, smiling, talking- but I was wilting inside my soul.
Then, at the cemetery, I was handed the ashes of my mother, my mom,
the most important person in my life reduced to a small box;
I broke inside, unseen and silent and never would I ever be the same,
have been told time heals, NO, that is a lie- we push the pain back.
It dwells within like an open wound ready to start bleeding over and over,
I function, I write, I put on a mask of happiness but I am hiding;
for the real me- is still screaming at the unfairness, shouting, WHY!
____________________________
June 16, 2019
Poetry/Narrative/Most Beautiful Girl In The World
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1156-554-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
What if,
my sister Suzanne had not died on that snowy winter day
it was so pretty with the snow falling down and the icicles on trees
I stood holding my mother's hand waiting for Suzanne
we saw her slip on the ice- we saw the big truck coming
and then mother was screaming and screaming
I will never forget that scream, I still hear it in my dreams
what if Suzanne had not died that day . . .
What if,
my baby boy had lived to see the azure sky and not died
I would have loved him so much and watched him grow up strong
let him make his mistakes but been there to kiss the hurts
watched him grow and become a wonderful young man
but I suppose God had a plan for him and for me
I often go to the place where we buried our little boy
no amount of years can take away the pain . . .
What if,
my husband had not crashed his car into a snowy ravine
he was driving too fast but that was his thing and made me angry
it was a snow storm and again snow was falling so pretty
the road was icy and then he was gone from my life
I dream of him always- his handsome face is smiling at me
we had a love that even death cannot break- it is forever
until we meet again my love . . .
What if,
grandma was not gone, I can still hear her saying- write it
write what's in your heart and thus a poet was born
and father, oh how I miss him- he taught me about life
about protecting nature and the animals within our world
and mother, oh mother, she was my rock and my anchor
the most important person in my life, I could tell her everything
and now I float and drift like a cloud in the sky . . .
What if grandpa was still here
What if . . .
_____________________________
October 11, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/What If
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1070-633-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, New Free Verse
sponsor, Lu Loo
First Place
Who's the grandest marshal in my parade?
Who is the best of all the rest?
Who stole my heart without fanfaronade?
Three questions I'll assess,
and give you just one guess.
The most important person in my view
is that someone I can count on
when the going gets rough, no ballyhoo.
He's neither prince nor pawn
he does not feign or fawn.
I'd rather not name names, he doesn't mind.
A diamond glows, transparence shows
real treasure lies behind his eyes so kind.
No wonder that I chose
this gem when he proposed.
His life reflects the light of God above.
I cannot lie, a polished guy
whose life is lived for family that he loves.
Hereby - Happy Birthday
to my mate and mainstay.
October 1, 2012
Lost and Found
My name is Daniel. For 70 years--from age 14 to age 84--
I was incomplete, bereft of mother, father, my identical
twin brother Joshua, and all my boyhood friends who were
with me that day in 1944.
Some of the stronger men had strained and struggled
to force apart the bars on the window of the railway cattle
trailer packed to capacity with Jews bound for Auschwitz.
The results of their labor was an aperture large enough
for the egress of very slender people--like Joshua and me.
"Go, my precious ones!" cried my mother.
"Go, and LIVE!" said my father. "GO NOW!"
I grabbed Joshua's hand and pulled urgently. He wrenched loose:
"I--I just can't! I love you. Good-bye."
It was in this manner I escaped terror and death, but--Oh, there
was so much I could never escape. Each day since then, I have
seen their faces--those anguished,tear-stained faces, especially
Joshua's. Soon they were all dead; they had to be, didn't they?
I grew up, married, worked hard at a fulfilling career, raised three
fine children with my wife, and played joyously with children and
grandchildren--but still was incomplete.
On mild spring day, the greatest void in my life was filled when a
stranger approached me at the park and said, "Daniel (he knew my
name), a very important person is waiting for you a few yards ahead
on the next bench." Then he just walked away.
Sitting on that bench was the near-mirror-image of myself. He stood
and smiled broadly. He had my eyes, my build, my crooked smile,
my snow-white shock of hair. Then he said it--he said "Daniel"--
like no one else who has ever existed could say my name! It was
then I noticed we were dressed alike--same style, same colors!
He told me of our parents' deaths from starvation, of his escape from
Auschwitz, of the life he had lived, of his seventy-year search for me.
My heart broke, and I begged his forgiveness for presuming that he
was dead--that they had all died at Auschwitz. Then he spoke the words
that dried my tears: "I've nothing for which to forgive you! You must now
forgive yourSELF and be whole."
We are inseparable.
Hundreds of people escaped in route to Nazi concentration camps and from those camps.
written for Silent One's Long Lost Family Contest on July 22, 2016
As I watched the wedding of Meghan Markle and Prince Harry (a real life fairy
tale every little girl dreams of), I was taken back to my childhood when I used
to imagine in my grandma's attic that I was a princess waiting for my prince
charming to arrive. We would dance and my dress was floating like a gauzy
cloud. Meghan was just an ordinary girl, well she was a actress, of course but
so was I when I used to make believe. And even when I walked through the
forest close to my home, it became a magical place and I was a princess lost,
then the dashing prince on his horse would find me and we would life happily
ever after.
the birds sang loudly
unseen in the drooping trees
the little girl twirled
That night in my dream, I was a normal girl who is marrying a prince, but not
in England but in my city. A beautiful city full of history and charm. (With the
Queen as our Monarch) . My dreamy wedding takes place in the largest church
in Ottawa, Notre Dame Cathedral with it's breathtaking interior, Gothic style.
Every citizen of the city has come and the cathedral bells are ringing over the
city and through the streets. Every important person has turned out, even the
royal family. My father walks me down the isle beaming with pride (which is
odd as his address is Heaven) and my mother looking beautiful is weeping
(her address is Heaven too, infact, my whole family lives there). My dress is
perfection, like a cloud drifting. And when we say I do, there is a great cheer.
pigeons in steeples
flutter as we step in sun
cooing and bells twine
_______________________
May 30, 2018
Poetry/Haibun/My Fairy Tale Wedding
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1027-108-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Fairy Tale Contest
sponsor, Alexis Y.
First Place
Whether you agree or not, I am a very important person, or if you prefer, "thing". I delight in being clean, and I am next to impossible to live without; but I don't sing.
I crack, brake, get old, and come in many styles, but I absolutely will never tell a lie. I reveal the truth but am not a prophet; although I have seen myriads of people cry.
Prompt choice- Mirror; Word count-69 05132017 PS Contest, One of 5-70 words or less, Laura Loo