Long Imprisons Poems
Long Imprisons Poems. Below are the most popular long Imprisons by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Imprisons poems by poem length and keyword.
The sparkling goodness imprisons an autumn sun
And takes me back to the tender days when I was very young
When I'd help my Mama pluck them off the ground
Tart fallen pippin apples which the warm brisk winds had found
We'd stack them in her apron hammock bed
And when we'd gathered enough, into the house we'd head
Right to the kitchen sink to sort, and wash
And I would stand upon a chair to watch
Then gently laid on a towel, they'd shine till they were gleaming
We'd sit, and chat, she'd peel and we'd talk about every little thing
She would open the Crisco can, and the flour canister
And soon, before my very eyes, the pie dough would appear
She would roll the dough, and let me have a try
She would break off a piece for my miniature pie...
Side by side, she would show me how
Her patience was amazing....as I struggled to follow
The petals of peeled slices, layered out into rows
Sprinkled with her spices, added sugar and butter bows
Popped carefully into a piping oven, not quite an hour or so...
We'd watch them turn a golden brown...filling up my nose
With a cinnamon sweet fragrance, that would make my child's mouth drool
She would finally remove them, hot and gold, slightly letting them cool
Would top their goodness with heaping mounds of vanilla ice cream too!
Ahhh....sweet are the memories of those awesome pie ala modes...
Are you watching me Mom?...on those autumn days when I have shown
My grandchild how to peel, and slice, and roll, and bake her own??....
Panic mongers, hate mongers,
traffickers in groupthink.
The key to the universe,
you must never let facts interfere
with all your
obsessive incessant fables.
You must never doubt the veracity of
of the latest tale of terror.
A secret Satanic elite of cannibalistic pedophiles,
All the liberals are in on it, don’t you know?
Soros and Gates in collusion.
Evangelical contagion,
the deep state under every bed,
the boogeyman behind it all.
Any questioner is complicit.
Any true believer will be saved.
Apophenia intoxication,
Donald Trump is your savior.
Your mind is malleable to malignancy,
It metastasizes in your trance.
The putrid contamination percolates
everywhere in deafening silence.
Each taste of QAnon venom,
Each flavor of terror,
seizes and imprisons the masses of minds
And if you listen, you will hear
the percussive funeral dirge
for the death of the civilized world.
You
I would never ever want to be a house to billet your soul.
I would never ever want to be a cage that imprisons your spirit.
I
only want to be an invited, a welcomed guest in the house of your soul.
only want to be the key that might unlock the gates, the cage to your spirit.
With you
I would love to walk, hand in hand with the pure essence of your soul.
I would love to dance across rainbow skies, feel a free, uninhibited spirit
I would
love to be the wind you soared upon, the fire that lights up your soul.
love to be the force with which lifted, set you free, to fly your taut spirit.
B. J. “A” 2
June 28th 2007
Fall, she dresses down, while
winter prepares for its rest.
Summer wears her greenest gown,
but never, ever wears a frown.
Winter can get grumpy;
if awakened, he’ll spit ice;
for he is a tantrum thrower,
of quite the ugliest kind.
Fall, she is an artist;
her palette’s full of reds, browns
and golden pigments;
her work’s outdone only
by springs color wheel, so fast.
Fall is rarely grumpy
and spring so rarely frumpy.
Winter plays unfairly;
imprisons spring within its alley.
When spring escapes,
she celebrates,
with colors mighty bold;
her time is up when summer,
comes in from the biting cold.
The seasons live such finite lives;
they take their piece of life’s sweet pie.
When they’re done with all their fun,
they make way, for the next one.
Tis true, that would-be king imprisons me during daylight,
but with night my precious freedom soars in fantasy flight.
I return to where my treasured childhood still lives.
I caress each image my familiar land readily gives
and tenderly nurture each emotionally sown memory,
embracing the security such reminiscing swells in me.
Thus, in moon ruled night, my fighting resolution sets
and determines I shall escape this cruel nightmare yet.
His bride, his pawn – nay, these I shall never be
for my heart lies with he who dreams with me.
I feel him each night, just as I do my beloved land.
Both raise my ardor to heights supremely grand.
As I wonder the condition of my sweetheart man,
I dream our reunion is secured in tomorrow’s hand.
I feel him hold me, growing luscious thoughts deep,
I delight in his kiss as in bliss, I submit to new sleep.
Contest - Mysterious Nights ... Nayda Ivette Negron
December 20, 2016
Through deep despair were grown my homesick tears,
Worn by an inmate boxed in cement pine,
That cried for walls remembered through the years,
Forgotten treasures thought by me as mine;
Where laughter smiled when clouds of summer stirred,
And always rain would form inviting pools;
And abject fate was fate true-love deferred,
By leaps that bound hot-water ‘round in spools;
But my prison-cell locks memories stark,
Incarcerating what now fades to grey;
Sentenced forevers lost in wilderness dark,
That haven’t learned what freedom means today;
A fire burned bright but now smolders smokeless,
Imprisons visions streamed – lonely and homeless.
10/23/16
Submitted for Seeker's Homeless Contest
No I am not a famous poet,
being published everyday,
But I am a man of society,
And I have words to say,
How can I get these words out,
When Society imprisons me,
Society sticks these labels to me,
Calling me socialist and multiculturalist,
And the Right wing call me traitor,
Those haters want me dead,
Yet still the words build up inside me,
The words have no fear of death,
And they rush headlong from my mouth,
Like a Forlorn hope of old breaching a castle moat,
And you talk of shipping the immigrants home,
back home upon a boat,
Were we not all immigrants at one point,
And they label me again you're a liberal quote unquote,
If you read and take one thing from this,
Let it be that human beings are not the same,
But our differences enhance our lives,
Would it not be boring to be carbon copies,
Of the man at the bottom of the lane.
Married into esteem, wet blood of rubies
Eighty one ladybugs jitter over decoletage
Prince winks at my wonderment, approving
Twinkle pink flashes, silk rhubarb mirage
His newest attainment suitably adorned
Heavy with resplendent raspberry prize
Chest rise and fall, cool gems warmed
Youngest addition, other wives despise
Purple swords impale my heart, royal highs
Paraded through market bustle by monarch
Scintillation imprisons many envious eyes
Stones steal attention, status makes its mark
Gliding aside sultan, highlighted in twinkling
Sea side suite seduces snaking strawberry
Lavish lashings threaten to erase my history
Desirable princess flung far from ordinary
Chartered fingers caress coves in rapture
Lustre of pandora fulfills intrigue's voyage
Merged territories weave magic carpet capture
Traipsed mapping harbours among cleavage
Enamoured mumbles promise a hundred emeralds
Deftly, he unclasps pleasing planet neck orbiter
Molten mouth sears my shoulder, lurid liquid gold
Rallied rubies release, libation grains pour on floor
18th July 2020
Written for Julia Ward's Contest -
' I Went Shopping for Rubies'
Said the indigenous people of their land,
"Our Lord,
Since time started we lived here,
before prophets and their offsprings.
We built sanctuaries and prayer houses.
Our Lord,
today like never before,
we are under siege
as suffering invades our homes,
steal our sons,
silently rape our daughters,
and imprisons our men.
Our Lord,
when will you end this siege,
this carnage,
this destruction,
this inhumanity.
Stop the collective effort by mighty nations
to suppress our people.
Do we not show solitude in prayer to you?"
Do we not show humility,
to those who seek our brotherly feelings?
Yet these evil outbursts and suppressing efforts to batten us down
keep us enslaved within new walls in our lands,
of ancient times,
which we had never forsaken.
Our Lord,
Four thousand years back,
we took in their father Abraham,
treated him with love and kindness in our homes
and when he wandered off,
raised his children as ours.
Do you not see how they repay us?
With evil upon evil,
Our Lord,
We beseech thee,
free Palestine and the Palestinian people from this siege.
© Al. Juman The "said" Poet 6/29/2016
-'
-,
It is not my intention
to discriminate against anyone
by race, sex or religion
I write human err
Soul searches for truth midst divine grace
always vibrant despite gloom of fear’s attack
ready to vanquish despair, anguish and pain
persisting toward triumph over worry that imprisons
heart with obscuring vision against illuminating hope
…then faith* in God beholds fogless reality.
*Hebrews 11:6 6 But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.
April 24, 2026
3rd place, "SIX AND SEVEN" Verse Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud; judged on 4/29/2026