Long Inch Poems
Long Inch Poems. Below are the most popular long Inch by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Inch poems by poem length and keyword.
I behold the rose in bloom, and I cry,
I weep and I wail, then I sigh.
As the night draws in, my painful thoughts begin to wake,
I retreat into my mind and with fear I do shake.
Your clammy hand on my neck, your touch just like lead,
I close my eyes so you will go, you bury further in my bed.
I know I’m worthless, but please do not hurt,
And I try not to scream as you begin to insert.
The deed almost done, your sneer of disgust,
Your toes curl as we prepare for the final thrust.
You roar with delight, I exhale with relief,
My virginity now taken by a wretched old thief.
The memory still haunts, and the damage goes on,
I unravel the silk cloth that my knife lays upon.
Slowly but surely destruction is on its way,
I fear for my soul, but my body must pay.
Anticipation takes hold, and the blade does its work,
I press firmly down, blood appears with a jerk.
Is this the pleasure I've longed to have?
And a voice deep within screams "YES! ONE MORE JAB".
I am so frail, my young flesh so weak,
I can not go on, for my virginity he did seek.
The cold steel blade tattoos my white maiden flesh,
And the untouched skin becomes like wheat for the thresh.
I must abate, I must restrain,
This is the only way I mask the pain.
My eyes glaze over, my body feels weightless,
Each stroke is a prayer, and every cut a caress.
The guests have arrived, my relief has been fleeting,
He stands there staring, my heart is beating.
He looks at me inquisitively, mouth gaping,
And my mother knows not that her brother likes raping.
His gaze upon me, I'm his gift to unwrap,
He would rip me open and toss me like scrap.
I wish he would vanish and leave me in peace,
But his lust won’t be sated, and on me he would feast.
My legs are so withered, and my wheelchair’s a cage,
I wish that man in the Skoda didn’t have road rage.
I guess I should be grateful I can’t feel a thing,
But my mind is alive and every inch of him stings.
He gives me a present and pretends to be nice,
But don’t be fooled, it comes at a price.
He wheels me outside for a fresh of breath air,
When no one is watching he sniffs at my hair.
I wish I could lash out with my thin spastic legs,
But they are as useful as ice-cube clothes pegs.
I hope my diary doesn’t land in the wrong hands,
And if you’re reading this now then I’ve suck-cummed to his plans.
- Anonce
We have a tendency to focus on our flaws, despite it being what makes us human; what we despise is what one desires, and what we desire is what someone despises.
I felt this way for years; I still do- the perpetuous feeling that I’m horrendous.
When I look in my mirror, I don’t see my full lips, my long lashes, or my hourglass; I see my short legs, protruding stomach, and my eyebags.
Yet people with those flaws are beautiful- so why am I not?
The answer is that I am; I am beautiful, I am worthy, and I’m not horrendous- I simply haven’t been able to process my worth yet.
It seems that each passing year, I reflect on myself, making those negative remarks, rendering myself as unattractive.
Though, next year, I’ll look back on myself and realize how gorgeous I truly was; though it’s not that simple to prevent those negative feelings from pursuing.
Does beauty even exist, though?
It’s repeatedly changed over time, and it’s quite subjective, which has caused me to believe that true beauty doesn’t exist; it’s simply a perception.
I shouldn’t waste my time trying to ease the perceptions of others; I should follow my own, because short legs, protruding stomachs, and eyebags are beautiful; they’re only viewed in a negative way because society itself is ugly.
If I abide by every standard of others, I’ll only feel regret, for my happiness shall pulverize.
If I create myself to be someone who is healthy and who I love, my happiness shall thrive.
Though these insecurities will persist, even with the most attractive individuals- they’ll always haunt you, whether or not you believe in yourself.
So I dissected myself.
…
Carving every inch of me until my insides are out; but when I do so, my organs look the same as everyone else’s.
Bathing in perplexion until I realized; we’re all the same on the inside- and as I try to stuff my organs back inside of me, I remember what people say-
See, I’ve been told before, just like anyone else, that I’m ugly.
People take advantage of others' sensitivity in order to ease their insecurities; but they’re morons who don’t know what they’re talking about.
They try ridding of their “flaws” by projecting it on others, though those rigid thoughts will always remain inside.
But truth be told, we all have the same interior- and..
You’ll truly be happy if you stop caring about the perceptions of others.
To MOM; March 11,1979
This is the story of an animal trainer,
Whose mettle and courage, couldn't be plainer.
A search'd reveal if you'd care to explore,
None greater exists than El Eleanor.
She's faced the very meanest big game
And transformed them all , smiling and tame.
There's Big Daddy Harry, King of the Brood,
He fights in the jungle and brings home the food.
When the hunting is hard, his scorn can be raw.
El soothes the pain, takes a thorn from the Pa.
The next animal is Rusty the Red.
The patron saint of unmade beds.
A beast of habits, bad ones galore,
His head s in the clouds, his, clothes on the floor.
El's plans are to put an end to his bad mannered life,
By chasing him within,an inch, of. his wife.
Lindsey's the next, she's no longer wild.
El taught her well when she was. a child,
Out of the home and into the night,
She's now a trainer in her own right.,
By way of taming by putting a smile on,
She's done a dog, a .cat, and one big Italian.
The animal Robert likes his milk whole,
Drinks only unmixed, unopened and cold.
Devour, he can, a whole pound of meat,
Sharing with him sure ain't a treat.
El''s main defense against his devour'n,
Is a refrigerator as big as a cavern.
Next on the tour tour is Kristin Clothes-Horse.
Her closet is full, but never her purse.
El hopes to prevent a new"confederacy"
One which would a poor man, namely, "Poverty Lee".
Now we find Jenny the Baker.
With time, she's become quite the good pastry maker.
Jenny however''s a wrestling cook,
An odd combination that's not in the book,
She has her own reasons, for truth to tell, son,
The cooking is a wrestling move called a"full Nelson".
Hilary's a creature who likes to get around
In automobiles at the speed of sound.
She doesn't always though, 'specially not at night,
Then she likes to travel at the speed of light.
It's hard to see now but she's on the track,you see,
Of her own future business - called Hilary's Taxis.
Nori's the last, but not the least,
A full member of this zoo, and like the rest a beast.
A paradox of sorts, this Blue Prize winner,
Is proof that church schools are chock full of sinners,
Thus we are the animal house,
And though we may complain and grouse,
Everyone, no matter his status,
Thinks El Eleanor's got to be, the World's Greatest!
Happy Fifty-fifth Birthday,
From son Rusty,
I take the Flyer and push it to my side.
I made a lot of effort for this sight.
Please let me alone.
,,Can we go ahead and talk in a much more warm tone?"
Cringe.
,,I think it's pretty"
So egoistic.
An inch
I am just going to stay quite, let's just see what the teacher has to say to both of our work, that's more realistic.
The last inch
,,Mia, look in your suitcase"
You saying that with that amusing face.
When I opened it,
I saw the trash of an candy and threw it in yours, back coming to sit.
TheyTalkTalkTalkTalk
Ouch
,,miaaa, don't listen to these losers when they bark",
He winks.
,,You alright?", no my heart sinks.
Am I going to still stay here and act like, no my eyebrows movement icks and the shaking lips kick.
Standupstandupstandup
The chair,
It clirrsclirrsclirrs
It will fallfallfall
My hands close my mouth which is going hurt to call,
to let out words,
for making everthings somehow work.
,,May I go to the toilet please",
,,Sure, is everything on ease?"
I left and closed the door.
beatbeatbeatbeat my hand signals me back: ,,Could I step in the room to make everyone thinking nothing was to worry for? But my heart"
Splaaaashh, schhhhhhhhhh (did I relax now?), splaaaash schhhhhhh (ah,no!!), splaaaash, schhh (I am cry i n g a g ain).
Could they come in? No am I dumb boys can't come in.
I need to go in again, just 20 minutes a thin.
Just walk
Towardstowardstowowards
,,mia"
I need to ignore-
Runrunrunrunrun
He's not following, is he?
The stairs a muddy, after every step I will see them classy.
Right?
,,Mia, here are your things?"
,,Thank you"
Smilebrightsmilebright
Why does he behind us observes us?
They defiently didn't took my stuff.
Oh, he did.
He packed my things.
------------------
Break
-------------
I'm just going to sit somewhere else.
,,hey, can I sit next to you?"
,,sure. Is rverything okay?"
,,yeah, no worries I am just sick"
,,Ah, okay."
Pleasekeeptalkingpleasrkeeptalking
Whyaremytearsstilldripping?
Shedoesn'tpayattention
Yayy.
Oh, him.
I should smile-
Why is he there?
,,Is everything alright?"
Justnoddnoddnodd
,,You know it wasn't him who did that, It was the boy with who you were joking with."
I didn't cry about that.
Couldn't he think?
,,i just had headaches"
,,I wish you well"
Justnoddnoddnodd
He was next to you,
but could'nt even Formulare sentences a few.
In youthful exuberance I become a culture bandit
Well exposed, but never really learning.
Modernity taking a toll as Papa and Ante chased the goods
For my sake they said... No mistakes... deed was good
Nanny TV with her bright inviting light
My imagination on wide escapades around the world
And farther altering my personality by giving me languages, dress codes, and even an accent.
So I stole, other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere or so I thought.
And Yet
In all my juvenile delinquency I could never, tell an adult to his face you are wrong
Revering old age; what is that, where is that from?
In my Success in Corporate with policy of first names and no regard for age but ability and brain
I could never bring myself to say Pat.
Aunty Pat can you please email the document to me
Wait, what? Am I not her boss.
So I stole…. Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere, Or so I thought.
Drawn to the immaculate white of that gown
Instinctively I top it off with a colorful Kente Scarf?
The height I can rock in these 6 inch heels
but how Royal the Ahenema slippers makes me feel
This perfect perfect pony will do well with…. no not pearls or sapphire;
Animal bone necklace and earrings
Oh how perfect my manicure will be accessorized with these….no not diamonds
Bamboo bangles
I will wear the jeans, But only with that tank top with Adinkra symbols
So I stole… other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere… or so I thought.
My true culture grasping at my core
As I gasped, when that little boy called his father’s friend Larry
When He picked the carrot stick with his left hand from the bowl serving the community I died
Though it didn’t make sense because as a right handed person I would say my left hand is as clean as dried
I smiled brightly when that couple spoke Twi, while we waited for the A- train on the subway
My Culturally biased heart coveting a conversation
So I stole, Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere
A cultural bandit … infused with other cultures… blending in well, or so I thought.
Without need of Affirmation, I have Ghanaian blood flowing through my veins
I know the voice of my people, the beautiful colour
Of the soul that makes a Ghanaian.
In the mother land or not. Ghana comes with us.
From generation to generation Ghana is us
Perfect Culture Chameleons
We fit right in
Ghana is our heritage.
In youthful exuberance I become a culture bandit
Well exposed, but never really learning.
Modernity taking a toll as Papa and Ante chased the goods
For my sake they said... No mistakes... deed was good
Nanny TV with her bright inviting light
My imagination on wide escapades around the world
And farther altering my personality by giving me languages, dress codes, and even an accent.
So I stole, other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere or so I thought.
And Yet
In all my juvenile delinquency I could never, tell an adult to his face you are wrong
Revering old age; what is that, where is that from?
In my Success in Corporate with policy of first names and no regard for age but ability and brain
I could never bring myself to say Pat.
Aunty Pat can you please email the document to me
Wait, what? Am I not her boss.
So I stole…. Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere, Or so I thought.
Drawn to the immaculate white of that gown
Instinctively I top it off with a colorful Kente Scarf?
The height I can rock in these 6 inch heels
but how Royal the Ahenema slippers makes me feel
This perfect perfect pony will do well with…. no not pearls or sapphire;
Animal bone necklace and earrings
Oh how perfect my manicure will be accessorized with these….no not diamonds
Bamboo bangles
I will wear the jeans, But only with that tank top with Adinkra symbols
So I stole… other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere… or so I thought.
My true culture grasping at my core
As I gasped, when that little boy called his father’s friend Larry
When He picked the carrot stick with his left hand from the bowl serving the community I died
Though it didn’t make sense because as a right handed person I would say my left hand is as clean as dried
I smiled brightly when that couple spoke Twi, while we waited for the A- train on the subway
My Culturally biased heart coveting a conversation
So I stole, Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere
A cultural bandit … infused with other cultures… blending in well, or so I thought.
Without need of Affirmation, I have Ghanaian blood flowing through my veins
I know the voice of my people, the beautiful colour
Of the soul that makes a Ghanaian.
In the mother land or not. Ghana comes with us.
From generation to generation Ghana is us
Perfect Culture Chameleons
We fit right in
Ghana is our heritage.
I also feel blasé today February 19th, 2024
Linkedin to being lax,
and shirking house cleaning tasks,
which negligence cost us
(yours truly and the missus)
a golden opportunity
to relocate to Hillcrest Village
in Boyertown, Pennsylvania
another HUD subsidized property
under the aegis of Grosse and Quade,
one of the larger residential
property management firms
in the Delaware Valley.
Physical unwellness
(insync with racing heart) arose
because Kathleen Bergen
the new property manager
here at 2 Highland Manor
voiced absolute zero positive feedback,
upon taking lock, stock, and barrel
of appalling living conditions,
her blistering vocalization
(from wuthering heights)
translated as a foregone conclusion
against our hopes
pinned on moving into
two bedroom apartment
referenced above topmost lines.
Said plummeted disappointment
(courtesy blunt admission
out the mouth of
(humpty dumpty sat on a wall)
frumpty recent hire
identified in a previous poem
as new warden)
verbosely predicated upon
gross appearance of living space
immediately dashed cautious optimism
citing unkempt state
within no crater than
moonwalking unit b44,
whereby we wished to skadaddle
far away from obligation
to be mindful of rules and regulations
codified within a binding lease.
Unlikely home ownership
will ever come to pass,
nor the lesser prospect
to rent more spacious domicile
larger than a one bedroom apartment,
no bigger than a bread box
den me and the missus,
(a hen pecking spouse)
might befriend Bugs Bunny,
who might guarantee
adequate sized rabbit hole
constituting large enough wonderland
receiving stamp of approval
courtesy Alice in Chains
subsidized lodging money back
plus additional warren tee
granted by Mister Michael Fox,
who took me back to the future,
when the pace of life
plodded along at leisurely rhythm.
Only within outer limits
realm of twilight zone,
where dark shadows
inch along edge of night
(while two thumbs and index finger
belonging to separate good sports
grab hold the furcula
(or wishbone) structure
formed by the ventral fusion
of the right and left clavicles
and the median interclavicle
silently mouth invocation)
holds at bay, the inexplicable phenomena
moored, harbored, and docked
awaiting lucky recipient,
whose merrythought bestowed
upon he/she, they/them.
Two young men in vietnam
Sit in a foxhole one night
While chatting and talking about there families
and sharing pictures of each others wives
But along in the Dark distance
Came a bright and shimmering light
The light came down from the sky
like a shooting star in midflight
Charley was spreading
into the jungles of the night
Shouting out to one another
Tat ca deu chet dêm nay
which means they all die tonight
As the men laid in the foxhole
watching people running for there life
One of the men said we must flee
the other man said not I
The one man said
In the bright shimmering light
But why does one not flee
and run too save his own life
The other man looked deep
Deep down in the man's eyes
and says I shall do as my fathers did
I shall stay, I shall fight and I shall die
The fleeing man had a face
a face full of surprise
He asked why does thou not flee with me
on this very hour tonight
He said I just can't do it
it's not the way I was raised
my mother always taught me
to have a little faith
See I believe in God
and I believe he has a plan
and if it's my time to go
might as well be like a man
So now do you see why,
why one does not flee tonight
why I choose to stay
and risk my life and fight?
The fleeing man said no
and ran into the dark jungle night
So the one man kept his word
with every inch of his might
sitting in his little foxhole
and fighting throughout the rest of the night
Until his upmost surprise
came mornings first daylight
he seemed to have survived
survived for one more night
Re-gathered with his troops
all thankful to be alive
the man began to search
for his friend that ran off that night
asking all the troops
if they had seem him around
he finally came to the realization
that his friend was nowhere to be found
But he forgot to check
where he should have looked before
because there laid his friend colorless
and lifeless on the floor
So the Vietnam war ended, it took so many lives
but the man who said that he shall stay and fight
now lives at home with that same wife
for he every sunday
visits a tall white ivory stone
on the front it reads, I miss you
and I cant believe that your gone
But with all the Commemorative plaques
and monumental poles
theres one saying that still holds true
there are no atheists in foxholes
I'm making this plea for your love to return
This is a hard lesson I had to learn.
I learned a woman like you, is a precious jewel
Meant to be tresured, not meant to be ruled.
I tried to change you & did not suceed
Because you were perfect as you were & exactly what I need.
You tried to show love & I did not recieve it
You said you would leave me & I chose not to believe it.
I thought you'd always be here & you'd never go away
My ego told me don't worry, she'll be here, she'll stay.
But I was wrong, you left & took my heart with you
Now I'm lonely & sad now each day I miss you.
I sit here so lonely, broken & scared
Because I didn't say I Love You & acted as if I didn't care.
You wanted a man to love you & ADORE you
I didn't take heed & chose to ignore you.
You wanted love, affection & a little of my time
I didn't do those thing, because my time was mine.
You wanted a man to love God as you you do
I didn't make time for that, now we are through.
Now I pray to the same God, you tried to lead me to
Begging & pleading him to give me back my love that was so true.
I ask him to please return My Leesah back to me
But he ignores me like I did him & doesn't hear my plea.
All I need is just one more chance
To prove my love, another shot at romance.
Being without My Leesah is an unbearable pain
My heart is heavy, I wonder if it could take this strain.
I can't take the misery nor the loneliness too
My heart is on fire, I have no idea what to do.
I can't bear losing you, it's hard to be alone
This plea is is my last effort, please come home.
I can't bear the pain & the hurt is so great
I just hope & pray that my plea is not too late
I lost my lover, my wife Leesah, my soulmate.
I'll love you the way a man is supposed to
My heart will be open & never closed to you.
I'll never ignore you or take you for granted
A new seed of love in my heart will be planted.
Things will be better than ever, I know this for sure
My love will be HONEST, real & oh so pure.
I'll love you with every inch of my heart & I will never desert you
I'll always cherish your love & never again hurt you.
This is my promise as God as my witness
I ruined our union & I beg for forgiveness.
Leesah I'm sorry for all the pain I caused
Believe me when I say
Come back to me & I'll love you better than ever
Each & everyday.
Leesah I Love You!
I’m at homecoming, Dad!
I know you didn’t get to see what I was wearing,
but, I will tell you all about it when I come home, Dad.
I’m coming home now, Dad.
Of course we get Wendy’s on the way.
I’ll be home in a couple minutes, Dad.
I’m on our road, Dad.
There’s several cars parked in our driveway.
My stomach drops,
Are you okay, Dad?
I go inside preparing for the worst, Dad.
I still have an inch of hope.
Mom tells me the news, I can’t believe her, Dad.
I know you weren’t going to make it much longer, Dad
but I didn’t expect it to be this soon.
I rush to my room,
I can’t be downstairs as all these people see my cry, Dad.
It’s been an hour, Dad.
There’s so many people at our house.
I can’t bare to go downstairs and see you lying there.
I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye, Dad.
It’s been five hours, Dad.
Mom keeps sending people to my room to see if I’m okay.
I can’t even talk, I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, Dad.
It’s been a couple of days, Dad
and it’s been really hard to get out of bed in the morning.
I find Mom crying a lot, and I try to stay strong for her, Dad.
It’s been a week, Dad
and your funeral was today.
It was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through.
I tried not to cry, but it was too much to handle.
I’m sorry, Dad.
It’s been a month, Dad
and school’s just been too stressful.
I find myself thinking about you a lot.
I really miss you, Dad.
It’s been two months, Dad
and I find myself dreaming you’re still here.
I wake up sobbing when I realize you are not here, Dad.
It’s been three months, Dad
and I can’t find a purpose to get up in the morning anymore.
It hurts so bad that you’re gone,
I feel like my world has fallen apart, Dad.
It’s been three and a half months, Dad
and Mom gets angry at me because I’ve given up on everything.
She took me to the doctors today, Dad
and she’s really worried about me.
My friend’s have given up hope on me too.
I feel so alone and I don’t know what to do, Dad.
It’s been four months now, Dad
and it’s still hard getting up in the morning,
I’ve been working on getting better, Dad
but sometimes it’s still a struggle to get up every morning.
I’m trying my best, Dad
But today I just couldn’t get myself up.
I couldn’t get out of bed today, I feel like I’m losing all hope.
I’m sorry, Dad.