Long In addition Poems

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


Premium Member Government Shutdown

I am sorry, but there is outright denial,
About violation of law and national security
Regarding illegals crossing our border!
I have been to Central America
They are not just escaping crime there
They are responsible for bringing children miles
For other reasons and violating laws to get what they want!
I have done a lot of research in the past to do with this
There were clear, direct reports then, from border agents
It is not propaganda that criminals have illegally crossed,
The border into our country
It is not propaganda that gang members have illegally crossed,
The border into our country
Nor is it a lie that diseases were spread to Americans,
After transports from detention centers, that killed American children!
Also, the strong drugs being brought by illegals,
Have contributed to the drug crisis here!
We already have crime out of control here happening
And the issue of over-populated prisons
To ignore these things, is ignoring the law and safety of Americans!
To refuse to budge regarding National Security
With this invasion of thousands of illegals, is harming our country!
It is contributing to the Government shutdown every day!
I am not here writing this as a Trump supporter, because I wasn’t
I am writing as an American and I can clearly see what is happening,
From the backlash of prior policies and facts getting twisted now!
This is a serious issue that requires attention and compromise!
                                     Americans Unite!
                                    God Bless America!

Heidi Sands

1/17/19.   *In addition, today 1/19/19, President Trump stated the true facts regarding the security risks from our border. He offered a reasonable solution to deal with all this. If it is rejected, continuing this Government shutdown, that will be very harmful to our country. 

*Thank you to all those who came to our country through the correct legal process.  I am sorry others do not.
Form: Verse


Premium Member A Second Sample

**Once again, I have taken lines from previous poems and have fused them into a brand-new poem.  The words in bold are either in addition to my original line or a minor change to make the line fit.

Leave me from the stress.
I just don't understand.
So I shop in search of me
Because you have had your turn for an hour
But maybe I might actually be 
wondering when the pain is going to stop.
Feelings of chaos not splendor,
bend and break our souls!
Go ahead and speak up and speak out
that is just my luck
I promise my weakness and your strength will blend

It pays to dance through the moments 
When a thought festers and brews 
And scream aloud the pain. 
Be the voice for the weak
In this journey of life 
Sometimes we take action 
to be the helping hand someone needs
In the identity store you know. 
What's this I hear?
The heat of the flame got turned up bright.
IF the church is a hospital,
I would find a guide indeed.

Premium Member Update and Poem, To Be More

Yesterday Richard inspired me to write this update. Thank you Richard. 

To Be More

3 days of this virus, feels like 3 weeks
Every hour a battle, as minutes flit by
Extreme cycles of hot and cold, ongoing
Losing track of a neutral temperature
Headaches, nausea and chest pain
But mainly the tiredness and exhaustion
Doing minimal things can wipe you out
It feels like it's an effort to think, to breathe
Energy you may use to bring in loads of wood,
It can take that much, to write something like this
Thankfully, I only lost all my breath once
Having to sit down a while to get air back again
But doctors who call daily are still concerned,
I may need more later, so they prescribe inhaler
I am seperate some from my pets I love most
As I try to keep taking care of them in ways advised,
Wearing a mask, washing hands, some distancing
They don't understand and that breaks my heart
But, I am making it and they are making it
Every hour, I think, I survived another hour
I have had serious health issues in the past
But, this is certainly different and my body is at war
A constant cycle of juice, water, vitamins, food, tylenol
Filling my body with all I can to fight and survive this
Because, here, there is no treatment and it's up to me
It is a roller coaster, just after a lift, there is a fall again
Sometimes I feel like I'm dying when crashes happen
But, I am winning!
I won, the prize of seeing a beautiful sunrise this morning
And hearing multiple birds sing happily outside in my yard
I am winning every time this thing knocks me down and I get back up!
Driven to do more, write more, reach more, be more!

Thank you all

Heidi Sands

4/10/20

In addition, with only using internet from data on cell phone and losing a signal, it gets difficult getting things into soup, without having to enter it multiple times. So for now, that is in my way too. Take care everyone :)

Goodbye Mother - Soon a Dozen Years Since Demise

Her cremated ashes scattered to all the four winds
White, powdery and chalk like material
Devoid of any vestigial semblance 
To her once living and vibrant self
That unique persona pulverized and vaporized
(Housed former svelte and tall Arthur Murray 
Ballroom dance teacher 
A half-century plus prior to demise
Which beauty, charm and grace 
Quickly caught the attention of my father,
Who courted and eventually proposed 
To this young flirt and ingenue tease of a gal)
Inert organic matter now represents 
Sole residual embodiment 
Reduced to dust and near nothingness
Former corporeal being of blood, bone and flesh 
Weighing no more than 
A dozen hatch marks on the scale
Absence still bears down heavy 
Like some millstone round the neck
Per the black hole void 
Created by defeat with Grim Reaper
Toward this woman 
Who helped birth and nurse me into manhood
Momma’s only grown son 
Still feel ripples of grievous sadness
No matter the years of suppressed anger and rage
In addition to emotional conflicts between us 
Which invariably wrought unpleasant relationship
And a legacy of discord writ large 
Across the tapestry of my life.
Form: Elegy

The New York Public Library

The New York Public Library’s
A lovely place to visit.
The main branch Beaux-Arts building
Is a landmark most exquisite.

In addition to its majesty,
Exhibits are displayed,
Which New Yorkers rarely think about
When plans are being made.

I don’t know why, for there are treasures
Waiting to be viewed.
In one case, there was Pooh Bear, 
Where most children’s eyes were glued.

Charles Dickens’ writing table
And his calendar and chair,
Plus a baseball signed by Brooklyn Dodgers 
All are set up there.

A special exhibition
Was the draw that lured us in,
Celebrating the New Yorker
And its hundred year-old spin.

And one final must-go reason –
There’s a gift shop worth a look.
You can spend the day enjoying all
And never touch a book.
Form: Rhyme


The rose



A rose 
With the scent of the earth 
Aroma from the clouds 
A desire to soar
Tides crashing 
against the shore 
Pauses to expose 
the measure 
Of the treasure 
Yet the strain 
Of the petals 
inside the fine veins 
Yearning for a selfie 
The glee of the folds 
So bold 
Expecting expansion 
Spirit of ascension 
Reinforced by 
The longing for flight 
Freedom of light 
In addition 
The sops 
The raindrops 

Veils slowly ajar 
A glimpse of the shine 
of a star 
A delicate smile 
Somewhat beguiled 
At a simmer 
A glimmer 

Lips and eyes follow 
From a depth 
Gradually 
The treasure 
Time swallowing time 
Chimes in the atmosphere 
Eyelashes and hair 
Fair and lovely 
And the eyes 
Azure and solitary 

The flute 
Its sheen 
Nose aquiline 
Ready to receive 
with a salute 
  ___________

July 23, 2025

Gable

When he left us, he left us too soon.
He starred in 13 episodes of "Tycoon".
It was a day that all of his fans were sure to hate.
Christopher left us at the young age of fifty-eight.
He starred in "The Distracted Preacher" and "The Boy Friend".
Many people were surprised when his life came to an end.
In addition to being an actor, Gable was a ballet dancer.
This talented man lost his life in 1998 because of cancer.
He starred as "Sharaz Jek" when he starred in Doctor Who.
Christopher was a special individual and that's certainly true.


[Dedicated to Christopher Gable (1940-1998) who died on October 23, 1998]
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Letter To My Dogs

(Even If You Are A Cat Person This Applies To You)

Dear Dogs,
When I say to move it means go someplace else, not switch positions with each other so there are still two dogs in the way.
The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food.
The other dishes are mine and contain my food.
Please note placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and my food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a race track.
Beating me to the bottom is not the object.
Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.
I cannot buy anything bigger than a king size bed.
I'm very sorry about this but do not think that I will continue to sleep on the couch to ensure your comfort.
Look at videos of dogs sleeping. They can actually curl up into a ball.
It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out with tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space used is nothing but doggie sarcasm.
My compact discs are not miniature frisbees.
For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom.
If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open.
I must exit through the same door I entered.
In addition, I have been using bathrooms for years;
canine attendance is not mandatory.
Lastly, the proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dogs butt.
I cannot stress this enough.
It would be such a simple change for you.
With Love,
            Mom
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Divine Planning

Today is my birthday, and I saw a number.
Yes, I see my age but in addition, I see
so much more.

I see the number 909 which represents
75 years times 12 months plus 9 additional
months. That timeline tells the story, but it
doesn't come close to telling the whole story.

You see, there is a story behind the story which can
only be told by its author. It is a divine story written
before human conception took place.  There was a
prior conception that took place in the mind of God.
Imagine that. God had a divine thought about me
before I was conceived in my mother's womb. My
parents were obviously clueless about what God had
in mind 'When he thought about me' before conception.

I would like to think that my 75 years of life till now
have unveiled what God had in mind when he designed
His plan for my life.

091024PS
Form: Narrative

Getting Away From Here

getting away from here
i will be much sweeter when we get there
right now all the stinky stuff is causing my mind to become totally oblivious

getting away from here
i will be easier to put up with as the miles evaporate
right now all the stifling stress is causing my mind to become very vulnerable

then there are the memories of dog food and cleaning products
then there are the thoughts of goodbye waves and pleasant trip expressions
then there are the images of blueprints to actualities and technicalities 

the roads that i traveled were reasons why i am behind this wheel
somehow it has made me a better person with matured common sense 
the scars within the memories remind me of what could happen again if i do....

getting away from here
i now begin to see light
the sunshine winks at me through the clouds and breaks free to smile at me before clocking in
totally cleansed am i of repetitious reflections unnecessary and unneeded
i turn into a scene in the new chapter of my new movement
it feels so wonderful to actually have a turn
now it is that 'in addition' that i desire and yearn....AND I JUST FOUND A PARKING SPOT!
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

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