Long In line Poems
Long In line Poems. Below are the most popular long In line by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long In line poems by poem length and keyword.
I bejewel dying elephants.
Scrape the mire from tired pillar feet.
Wash away the gray.
Reveal the pink satin soul...again.
I rub their tired tusks.
Scrub away the stained grooves.
Shade their great wild eyes from scavenger sun.
I have no use for the strong at their peak.
Nor haughty in its prime.
It's futile sparring with Mr. Jones.
Because he'll always have more time than I.
Time to kiss the hedges and keep his trim in line.
Yes, I'm a good down friend. But those days are at an end.
Because down people mostly bring you down.
I need to get up before my eyes pearl with death...
I bejewel dying elephants.
They followed screams to where he died
his face showed he’d been terrified.
Though none knew why he’d passed that way,
...on ‘Devils Hill’ his body lay.
Around I feel a ghostly chill,
why must I venture up this hill
and see the place my friend had died,
right now I wish I’d stayed inside.
What is this shiver in the air,
each time I look there’s no one there.
An icy chill runs down my spine,
am I the one who’s next in line.
Here lies the spot he breathed his last,
again I feel this icy blast.
I think I hear his final scream,
an echo in this nightmare dream.
Surrounded now by thoughts of doom,
all that’s evil starts to loom,
playing on my inner fear,
my personal demons now appear.
I’m damned, I know, I feel my past
has finally caught me up at last.
I know that just to get our way
we’d often made all others pay,
there’s those we trod into the earth
while living high in joy and mirth.
My friend who’d died here yesterday
had shared the evil games we’d play.
Most times we made folks life pure hell
and once ignored an old man’s spell
who’d cursed us both with inner eye
and said that when ‘up high’ we’d die.
We laughed out loud, the stupid thing,
we lived ‘up high’ ...‘high as a king’.
Could he not see we always win
by walking over men like him?
Oh God!, ‘up high’ ...he meant this hill,
where I'm now drawn against my will,
to answer for a lifetime’s sin
cursed by the way we ‘always win’.
Then suddenly from all around
a thundering voice then shook the ground;
”For all the evil you have spread,
today you’ll join the tortured dead.
Damnation, for your life of hate
has led you to the Devil’s gate.
Eternity to spend in Hell,
determined by an old man’s spell”…
Next day my body was found there,
none knew the misery and despair
that I’d caused others with my friend
......to earn the horrors of this end.
Ivor G Davies
Rudolph did not like his bright red nose
And how everyone told him it glows
He then painted it blue
Didn't realize with glue
Washed it with snow, now it's stuck and froze
Dasher wanted to be in the lead
And was the fastest to do the deed
But he couldn't fly, only prance
And his moves were like a dance
knew he could not fly the sleigh with speed
Prancer had a tiny pink sparkly nose
Liked to flirt, keeping the boys on their toes
She loved to just mingle
While singing her jingle
And romancing the herd with her sweet show
Dancer had a big chip on his shoulder
Mad that Dasher had moves that could smolder
Dancer could really dance
If he was given a chance
But Dasher's moves were flashy and bolder
Comet was a foolish and friendly deer
Who loved to have a full belly of beer
But he wasn't very bright
And his nose had no light
He was too sauced to be able to steer
Cupid was young, beautiful and sprite
Had a huge fear of falling and heights
He had to close his eyes
When he was in the skies
He couldn't safely lead the sleigh at night
Vixen's job was to guard the Christmas sleigh
And make sure presents weren't stolen away
Didn't care about the race
Wanted to keep his place
Knew presents were needed to save the day
Blitzen knew he was last in line
And his nose was black with no shine
He made his nostrils flare
And shoved a flashlight there
Now he could lead the sleigh this time
The Age of Man
We carried on
The age of man
Till moon of tin bore
An electric sun
And all machines
Shone bright and clean
Keeping silent
But wanting more
Till the purpose mind
Did loose its time
In idle waves lament
Through prostitution of evolutions
A self induced torrent
Took his mind till eyes fell blind
Unraveled the very core
To spit it bright into the night
Every secret that endured
Till all the stars fell off in drought
Withered at the root
Every galaxy was brought to knee
By the embassy we took
And God came down
To spy our crown
In towers that we command
As every tree
Laid low to be
A place that we should stand
While all the earth
Gave up its worth
Mountains fell to sand
But those machines
All we could see
God left us standing there
So gathering the ways
Of all his days
His books and all his score
Scattered it high into the sky
Into the cloud he stored
Every thought
That effort bought
By page, pen and grave
And set to fire
By all his ire
Knowledge eons gave
While dirt of earth gave up its worth
Lay idle, a broken land
Gave lifeless life unto the night
And Metal, a full command
Till from the hearth soulless marched
The field of Mars and woe
To stand in line as engines grind
In that womb steel did grow
From something other
Than a loving mother
A milk of gasoline
In burning oil and writhing toil
A demon she did wean
So the thought machine
Did kiss our dream
As man must lay to rest
But that unblinking eye
Our thoughts did spy
And developed its own interests
And not one of we
Did need to be
Said that steel abhorrent pet
And once the master, fell fast, then faster
Until not one of we were left
An an age for I
The lidless eye
Not troubled by truth or dare
Stays unseen
By human being
And continues its lifeless stair
Till rain came down from man made cloud
In that fog the Godless kept
All the ways until that day
And away it all was swept
I took on a job I thought that I liked,
a service I have to provide.
Giving customers help with things that go wrong
always makes me feel happy inside .
For many long years I have done really well
and I’m sure it is me who knows best.
If it wasn’t for me and my colleagues alike
then our Company would cease to exist!
Do I really believe what my boss says to me
that our profits are on a decline
and that losing our way we will go bust one day,
but surely that’s his job not mine.
He said we must change, yes, alter our ways,
our customers want so much more,
I’ve been here for years and I know I know best,
I told him “I’ve heard it before”.
Now there’s targets he’s set and I’m asked everyday
does my part really help to provide
a reason for me to remain on their pay,
do I do what we need to survive.
Our Company now makes a profit, I’m told
but I groan and complain everyday.
I’m good, don’t you know, I really think so,
why check ...’cause it best just ‘my’ way.
The problems you see are theirs, it’s not me,
they’re caused by those people inside.
If you left it to me and let us run free
we’d be happy and bring back our pride.
The rules are quite clear, I must just do my job,
I’m expected to now get in line
and give to my customer, colleagues and boss
what they ask and meet their needs not mine.
I now see it’s my role to provide what they say
though sometimes I may disagree.
I really must try to stop judging them
and look so much closer at me.
If they make a mistake, and I know that they will,
and I’m sure it will show with hindsight.
I’ve got to admit that I’ve often been wrong
at times when ‘I’ thought I was right.
So I now do my job by the rules he has set
for there’s things that I just couldn’t see.
By helping our Company try to survive
my boss was just working for me!
Ivor G Davies
We were not in line, but waiting for something.
It was an evening in June, 1968.
An expensive Cadillac appeared and the passenger door opened.
A gorgeous leg exited, along with a flashy red silk dress.
The woman was blonde with caramel skin and princess eyes.
Her date was a handsome man with contrasting features.
He was as dark as she was light.
They were confident like movie stars.
I was a teenager and did not meet them.
I do not know their names, but I have never forgotten.
The way they were comfortable with each other
Their clothing or their classy midnight blue car.
I thought “when I grow up” I want to be them.
20 so plus teacher educator's
Primed ready
Standing like naughty school children
in line
Patiently awaiting castigation
From the board , proud parent's and overlord's
Who firmly believe they can do what
they do only 20 time's better
Never actually having done the job itself
Or knowing what dedication or magnitude
that job entails
Who awaken daily realizing the teaching vocation
they choose to follow
Is in fact a thankless task made only hard
When it is implied that the job they are
doing
By those who should in fact be trying and providing
them with tool's in order to help them
Are actually rather sabotaging them instead
And has now left them pondering the
question
Why they even wanted or ever wished to get into
teaching in the 1st place
Because it certainly wasn't on the basis
of financial renumeration
More for the reward the satisfaction
the job brings
Seeing a child thrive and excell given
they may just only be the only person
In there life who actually support's and
allows them to dream and believe
they are achievable
As sadly not every child comes from
a loving happy home unfortunately
And may need a push in the right direction
in order to find there own self belief , confidence
and inner voice
So they may well 1 day in the not to
distant future find themselves empowered
enough
To eloquently not only be able to speak for
themselves
They endear themselves and speak for
the masses as well
Deserving and reverant enough to bare the moto
Poet of all the nation's people truly independent
And most precious above all else willing
to listen to both sides of any given story
I don’t know that one
is more important than
the other...equality seems
to be the fashion. Nor can
I say with any certainty
that two cannot function
as one: for I have heard the
rumors of harmony, though
both my ears seem slightly
at different tones--and why
did God make so many
of us? All of whom end up as
smoke or rotting in graves, a
subject we have in common.
Ah, yes! The Spirit! Something
I really want to believe in, despite
the lack of Weights-and-measures:
My mind tells me one thing
while my heart says something else--
a library says it all; while the church
remains a vacuum of faith. Perhaps
religion is more to keep children in line
and husbands tethered to one?
Miracles keep me going.
Parallel lines never cross, they usually meet after dark; parallel lines never intersect because they have similar depth, parallel lines coordinate for they have indefinite slope and they usually meet at the gates.
Take me to Florida keys and let me show you something that you cannot see; the ocean is flowing ahead of time and it is moving along two parallel lines, but if you look close enough , you will see something that your eyes refuse to trust, there is a third line that crosses two parallel lines, and create the divine.
The climate is changing and many hearts are breaking, there is not much luster left in the sun and the age of compromise is over and done, and nature is on the run. It will take you to places where you have never been, and it will expose your youthful sins. Parallel lines are moving with time, so change your dirty shoes before you attempt to cross the line.
Take a look at the blatant skies and examine the truth before you die, it is written on every page, and it will expose your biological age. It tells the truth about your youth, your real mother’s name, your father’s name, your sisters and brothers, your grandmother and your grandfathers. The parallel lines tell it all.
I woke up this morning before daybreak, and I felt a strong energy all over the place; the moon is still in its orbit, and the cloud was in line with two parallel lines. Where they were going, I just don’t know but it was a beauty to look at the show. I trust what I see and sometimes I trust what I cannot see. It is that brief moment that you spend when the lion escapes out of the den, raging through the forest searching for a prey but the parallel line was running the other way.
There is a message waiting for you with a mandate of what to do; the terminals are not clear, and the cars are parking too near. Open the space a little more so that moon gravity can expand on the floor, it is more than sixteen percent of the earth’s gravity or one sixth percent of the earths weight. Don’t procrastinate; be there before it is too late.
When two parallel lines meet, they will rapture your heartbeat, they have so much in common and they will surely give you a helping hand if you cross the land. When two parallel lines meet your trouble will cease.
It was raining when I woke up early this morning and it’s expected to rain all day. The temperature outside is in the low fifties; cold and gloomy and perfectly in line with how I’m feeling. Sadness, disappointment and a growing sense of imperfection is gnawing inside reminding me that no matter how much I strive to improve both my writing endeavors and ability to reach out and connect with others, (including strangers and those I love) I keep missing the mark by countless miles. Despite all the “Self Help” books on how to become more successful, more efficient with one’s time and more in tune with finding and connecting with our “Inner being and best true self,” at the end of the day, only we can ultimately help ourselves. Or can we?
Sometimes I find that the only way to overcome my own faults and fears is to simultaneously face them and muddle through them, regardless of the amount of trouble, time and tears. I just keep telling myself, “Hang on, there’s always next year.” And so, I, the proverbial and eternal optimist continue to keep doing what I’m doing knowing full well that no matter how much I do, say, or give to others, it’s never enough and never will be because dissatisfaction, restlessness and longing for more desires including people, places, knowledge, ideas, creativity and all other urges that lurk inside will never allow us (or, at least not me) to rest easily and peacefully as I please.
So, I ask you to please forgive me. Forgive my lack of attentiveness to your creativity, your love and your needs. Forgive me for not being there for all your failures, triumphs and near misses towards your higher realms, whatever you may imagine them to be. Forgive me for not praising and raising you to the level you deserve. I am only one man. I’m only one soul on the journey of a lifetime trying to live each moment the very best way I know how while stumbling, bumbling, fumbling humbly along the way. I can only hope and pray that you, dear reader, may understand these thoughts as I sit here and watch the rain until it stops.
© Terrell Martin, 02/23/2025