Long Into Poems
Long Into Poems. Below are the most popular long Into by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Into poems by poem length and keyword.
Here’s an often overlooked fact I’m sure many parents would concede:
The larger a family grows…and extends…the more Tupperware you need!
Yes, there’s an easy way to tell when your family dynamic is changing…
that has nothing to do with genes and chromosomes…
When your family comes to dinner…it’s the amount of leftovers they’re taking home.
When the children are young…any food left uneaten
goes into the refrigerator I presume….
where it waits patiently (hopefully not too long) until it is consumed.
This system works flawlessly for a long time…that is until the day
the children grow up…and it is time for them to move away.
Here there is an unspoken rule…a tacit guideline all parents try hard to meet:
When our children and grandchildren visit…we offer them more food than they can eat.
Which means, when they all come to dinner…
once the evening’s over and they head out to their cars
the leftovers, neatly packaged, will go into their refrigerators…not ours.
At our latest family dinner…another grandchild let it be known…
he will be moving into an apartment…finally living on his own.
Which left Deborah and I smiling…once again aware…
that the next time we get together
not only will we need to make more food…
we’ll need more Tupperware.
Thanksgiving Blessings
Living in the presence of the eternal’s bounty
A grace note in soaring gratitude
Never slipping through the fingers of the heart
Like escaping bits of sand
The patois of blessing heard through horns of plenty
Adorned by chrysanthemum, asters and bittersweet
Like a holiday bonnet worn
In scents of sweet communion spice of familiar voices,
And warm fires of those that still echo in arias of grace
At a table place saved in memory,
A celebration of nourishing transformations –
Solstice to equinox
Summer seeds planted in anticipation yield
Wheat to bread – bread to savory pudding –
Apples to cider, grapes to wine or raisins
Sun splashed berries to preserves
Spent leaves to life giving loams
Barren laughter now blessed
In soils of tender benediction,
Scattered beauty’s aura of twirling abundance,
Scarlet, orange and ochre,
In cozy harvest spirit flames
Transforms the simple ordinary into a banquet
Anointed by familial grace and history
Like grape vines eternally entwined in grateful,
Ever baptized by harvest mists
Wearing new silver veils of nourishing rain,
To bless the winding road home.
11-11-21
Contest: Thanksgiving Blessings
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
I reach deep into my soul
words form like a spool of thread
I lace the needle of thought
and sew you a beautiful literary creation.
Sometimes there are rivets in the patterns
imperfect chained connections
but somehow, they come together
and meet at the same ends.
It does not have to be correct really,
just meshing like pieces of unmatched cloth
like your grandma’s favorite quilt
so many memories...
when I decide my creation is finished,
I tighten the ends, pulling it snuggly together
I gently roll my threads up to put away
and save those precious strings for another day.
They talk about how the country these days,
has fallen into such a Goddamn mess.
It’s worse than anyone has ever seen,
must have forgot the seventies, I guess.
They talk about how the ex-president,
did not do things the same way they use to.
But they must have forgotten all about,
Tricky Dicky back in seventy-two.
Congress showed us another bill they wrote,
said there’s no room here in the land we stole.
You won’t get no rights or have any hope
so just keep your ass down in Mexico.
Way down yonder where the tall cotton grows,
down south of that old Mason-Dixon line.
Daddy said son, best not be on the road.
after that setting sun no longer shines,
Late last night just outside of my front door,
there was a young white woman raped and stabbed.
They looked at the people gathered around,
it was an innocent black man that they grabbed.
Said we don’t need no proof that you’re guilty,
if you are black then that’s enough for us.
Besides, it’s your word against all of ours,
so who you think the judge is gonna trust.
When the man threw his hands into the air,
the cop cried, “That boy’s got himself a gun.”
Shot him a total of thirty-nine times,
said it’s because he was trying to run.
I wonder when it was, we lost our minds,
the meanings of good and bad got hazy.
Did the cave men wake up on one morning,
thinking that this world is too damn crazy.
They are hopping mad so they burned the flag,
protesting against inequality.
The poor man’s sick of being kicked around,
while he’s dying of hunger in the street.
It’s Covid now instead of Russian Flu,
there is still no such thing as living free.
I just can’t tell if this is modern times,
or are we in the nineteen seventies.
People say I am lucky
To have people living around me;
I exclaim, "I am so lucky!"
While I am far away from home,
In a second house or home
That I am trying to turn into my home.
I am lucky—very lucky—to have my people with no blood relation,
But relationship made on earth and by social norms, from another nation.
I am lucky to have people around me,
Talking, laughing, and trying my best to create bonds and feel free.
But deep within, I am struggling;
Deep within, I am missing my home.
Deep within, I feel so left out, and that's what is troubling;
Deep within, I am fighting my existence in the brand new home.
I am on the verge of making no mistakes or blunders,
Yet, whatever happens and whoever it is, I am the designated offender.
I am lucky to have people around
Who try their level best to pinpoint me.
I am so lucky to have people around.
Useless and valueless, they want me to be.
Deep within, I struggle to fight alienation;
Deep within, I struggle with domination.
Elders here say I need to learn and grow,
But the way they live and cherish, I am yet to know.
A constant thought: why always me?
Why only me?
Won't they take a little initiative just for me?
To know me more, to let me feel this as my home?
Yet, people still say I am so lucky
To have people around me as a new family.
Autumn is a time in the spirit of a man
When he walks down the beach
And get chilled from the sand.
On misty mornings can't but walk from my home
When I think of summer days
In the sun and the foam where the
Black’s Beach girls makes you thankful for life,
But more thankful for you mind
When you remember that night.
You saw her floating by the moon through the haze
As she was
Walking down the beach,
And you want her in your reach child,
Beach Child, Beach Child….
The California coastline is a world all its own
From La Jolla up to Stinson
From Big Sur to Mendocino but
Golden sunsets and gulls against the sky
Can never match the feeling
That Black’s Beach will give a guy.
Those magic summers in the sand possess my mind
As I look out my window
And the clouds are blowing by.
I close my eyes to see you once again
And now you're
Walking down the beach,
And when I get you in my reach child
Beach Child, Beach Child....
Now the days are getting shorter and I can't say where I’ll roam
But I know what I am after
And I guess I’ll be a loner till that
Flaming sky lights the waves along my path
And I hear above the roar
A mellow song out of the past. It makes me
Stop and look back at my trail along the sea,
I squint into the glare
And someone's calling after me.
Can’t see her face but I know it won't be long
‘Cuz she's
Walking down the beach,
And I've got her in my reach child
Beach Child, Beach Child ….....
Author’s note: Inspired by Brian Wilson
This is the first song I ever wrote (about clothing optional beaches or otherwise in 1978)
I just formed the contest of me.
It is a queenly one with an obvious winner
My heart jumps with anticipation of the prizes
A clean fresh page opens into a whimsical world of wow
provocative possibilities prance like purple ponies
stretching my mind into the outer galaxies of make-believe land
The contest of me is the best thought I have had in a long time
Everything that delights me is pouring into my heart-soul
orange, pink and yellow paisley jumpsuits twist their petootsies
lava lamps, air stream trailers, palm prints on a forehead
1960’s yellow happy face, a red 1968 442, my first kiss.
Feelings I have not had for a long time embrace me
Delight me, incite me, entice me, suffice me.
I limit myself not in the least
As the noon sun falls into my cupped hands
the oak tree is smiling at my eager happiness
I am joyous
Father now journeys
into afterlife destination alone,
October 7th, 2020 mid afternoon
with Earthlings ministration did attone
where night envelops his lovely bones
rendered devoid of any groan
courtesy Roxanol (morphine)
and Ativan finding him prone
to experience painlessness, and no
his dying wish, plus last will and testament
won't include burial and/or headstone
cuz, he wants to integrate and did intone
cremation as ecologically friendly option
scattering ashes to parts known
someday... yours truly will too
succumb to the dead zone.
Stark reminder to live fully an urgent yen
to live life fullest between now and when...
ever yours truly exits
stage door left, perhaps ten
twenty, thirty... eighty, ninety, one hundred...
additional orbits around sun
a remarkable human phenomenon
(me) courtesy mine burning ken
bequeaths modest minute man
near accursed immortality longevity totaling even
score of years counting (crows)
and father time among his brethren.
Distress unavoidable which mortality doth bring
nevertheless, tis impossible mission
to eradicate pain and suffering, which doth sting
consolation assuages grief, viz prayer
and buttressing coping with spiritual wing
profound absence augments biting zing.
Biological reproduction begetting offspring
lodging within uterine abode
subsequent in utero development
regarding accretion embryonic node
biological algorithm doth automatically encode,
nevertheless longevity invariably affected
no doubt courtesy lifestyle mode.
Random crapshoot luck of the draw offspring born
genetic blueprints also decree existence transient
parents emphatically teach progeny
got no choice must inform
daughter(s), and son(s) ineluctably forsworn
demise bound with birth certificate presents horn
of dilemma conscious the next generation
granted only so many Earth orbitz around sun.
Once grim reaper deftly
communicates I must bid adieu
eternal hasta la vista to kith and kin
please don't shed a tear for generic
germane admirable bad company crew
member, albeit healthy as an ox
never got the flu,
an atheist doubting thomas
though genealogy records
incorporate many a cynical Jew
at least one legendary antiestablishmentarian
gleaned within mine purview
shunned, ostracized and banished to Xando.
Father Drinan took his class to Coney Island Beach,
He thought the sand and ocean could also teach.
They ran to Nathan's hot dogs, then sunk in deck chairs,
Until a hungry seagull took them unawares.
(bridge)
The seagull grabbed a hotdog from poor Joey McBride,
A clever attack, swooping in from the side.
The kids all laughed, Joey let out a wail,
As off into the sky, his hotdog did sail.
(chorus)
Oh, it’s a lesson in the air, a lesson in the sea,
Life’s got twists and turns, live long and you will see.
Look up at the sky, a hot dog flies away
In this sad world, it’s the sneaky bird that wins the day.
Drinan stood up tall, a different lesson to preach,
But then a bird dive-bombed him, screeching with a screech.
He lifted his umbrella, the bird latched on to it tight,
Stupid Willie Conlon grabbed a bat, hit with all of his might.
(bridge)
A whack and a thud, the bird fell to the ground,
The kids all stood still, in silence profound.
Father Drinan rubbed his head, now sporting a big bruise,
He thought of leaving teaching, it seemed he had to lose.
But Joey stood there, wiping away his tears,
With a smile and a sigh, he faced his fears.
“It's just a hotdog,” he said, “there's more to life to seek.”
Drinan smiled and nodded, "Blessed are the meek."
Father Drinan never took his class back to the shore,
But they learned something deeper than they’d ever known before.
Not the lesson he wanted to teach, they learned distrust instead
Never relax, every moment must be full of dread.
And don't whack a seagull, if it sits on someone's head.
It was a very overwhelming day today,
Yet I learned my many lessons with a grinning frown on my face
It was as if I've been given no second chance
But, God forgives me with his marvelous mercy
The torrent of tension washed upon me
It splashes into my veins of mere insanity
I grew attached to you as I saw fit clearly
You're perfectly imperfect and you knew it sincerely
I feel like no one loves me to be frank with you
I used to adore the way you looked at me, true
Now, out of the blue, you tell me you're taken
It's as if life is too unbearable to take… I've been forsaken.. Rejected… once again…
I've paid attention to you for so long…
Regret and pain is my lullaby song…
The torrent of tension rises up in me
Today, no one will recognize this love stored up remarkably inside me wholeheartedly
It was a very overwhelming night for me
You see, yet you don't see, my long lost baby
Babecakes will no longer be your nickname
Shame embraced me - I'm the one to blame
I feel hurt…
Uninformed and forlorn for a while…
Comfort…
Fails me now like a corrupted file
We will remain friends - yeah right...
It will never be the same, fickle lover
It was just a mere infatuation alright…
My adoration was festive towards you like no other
Now, I'm bound in these chains of doubt
There's absolutely no way out, so I pout
I wish you'd understand the way I'm feeling
Thanks for our heartless actions of ghosting
Shame on you for ghosting me for a long time
I should've known you were a drug addict idiot
I've been given a second chance from God actually
Poetry is in my veins, so cut off the strife of writer's block in my mind...and this sorrow from within
Wrestling with these woeful wildfires inside
Freestyling with my loneliness and pride
I liked you or loved you as a friend,
But I don't know anymore...you tend to offend…
Ghosting me gives me every right to be ghosting you…
For a matter of fact, I already blocked your number on my phone…
Don't ever call me again
Leave me alone..please leave me alone
You're just an abominable ghoster on his own