Long Just Poems
Long Just Poems. Below are the most popular long Just by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Just poems by poem length and keyword.
Why sit with a frown is there a need?
Yes she whispered in my ear, I think I peed.
My knickers are wet, I dare not move at all
If I stand up, down they will surely fall
Your knickers are wet, ha I did scoff
But I made sure I did, no laugh or a cough
For under my seat I would then have to peer
As there may be a puddle just under here
Went shopping before we met for lunch
Hoped lollies would stay frozen, so I could crunch
Put it in my handbag, sat upon my lap
Decided to eat quickly, so no mishap.
But lunch took quite a while
We had a laugh and a smile.
The lollies got hot, and then they did melt
I felt a cold patch sneak under my belt.
I swept off the table cloth wrapped it round like a toga
To everyone watching I said ‘it’s a new move in yoga’
To the bathroom I ran and locked the door
I dropped my wet undergarments, onto the floor
Knickers now down, I could see the stain
Was orange not pee and that I still maintain
I sniffed at my undies and then I did think
They smell of oranges, as I rinsed in the sink
I hadn’t peed at all, twas not a mishap
My ice lollies had melted, wetting my lap
Next time you see an old dear with a wet patch on her frock
Remember it might be a lolly, so you better not mock
One day you know that old dear will be you
So to yourself and to others you must always be true
A wet patch you may see, but no lollies are there
So offer her some wipes, but don’t sit on her chair
© 2013
Collaboration between Seren Roberts and Mandy Tams
Five Flashes of Crimson
In Agricola, where the late sun lies,
And October's gold is fading from the skies,
A fence post holds a simple, wooden line,
And hosts a sight both crimson and divine.
Not one, not two, but five bright feathered vests,
Have paused their chatter and settled on the crests.
The Northern Cardinals, with coats of fire,
Are drawn by hunger to a sweet desire.
They dip and peck at berries dark and round,
A quiet feasting, without any sound.
The male's sharp scarlet, a defiant gleam,
The female's blush, like an ember in a dream.
They come in kinship, a brief, familiar flock,
To gather fuel before the sudden clock
Of dusk arrives and chills the Mississippi air,
A vivid portrait, painted right there.
A messenger of hope, that flash of red,
A loving soul, the stories have been said.
But in that moment, nothing quite so grand,
Just five bright lives, eating from the land.
Powerful words,
Truthful words,
Honest words,
Brave words;
This is exactly what the Doctor orders,
For a nation, who's trying to fight the horrors
Of blatant racism,
Unfairness, injustice,
Nepotism and sexism.
A man of Peace,
Without controversies,
Is not a genuine activist.
The truth is being tolled; there is no reason to apologize,
‘Cause you're exercising your God-given rights.
The sickness, the maladies,
Which America has been suffering
For over five centuries,
Need to be healed as you're reading
My honest feelings.
This is painful, this is long overdue.
My brave People are tired of fighting
The ills and the stigmas of our societies.
This is hurtful, this is way overdue.
The Truth hurts, thank God Almighty;
"Another One" is unafraid to tell the Truth,
"This One" is dissecting the false myth,
And the backward ideologies, thank God Almighty!
The prisons are populated by innumerable innocents,
The Police and their cronies randomly humiliate
Our parents, siblings and cousins.
We have every reason to be mad and irate.
A more just and fair system needs to be in place now.
The Brother is using strong medicine right now:
Powerful words,
Truthful words,
Honest words,
Brave words,
To save America,
The beautiful diva,
Who stands for: "Justice, Freedom,
Liberty and Happiness for All."
We should denounce Uncle Tom
And his monkeys. Brothers, who walk tall
Like you and our President,
Are rare and almost nonexistent.
The Truth will always set free:
The men of Justice, the men of integrity,
The men of Peace, the men of honesty;
The Brothers and Sisters who will tirelessly
Fight racism, the twin-brother of slavery.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to all my brothers and sisters.
Copyright © February 19 2009, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
The evening clear, but moonless, with watchful eyes
Appear impenetrable through the city
Drawing attention to street lights rosiness
night out with my date
Giddy spirits, move on for one more sweet song
Swiftly dipping honey into our solo
Blaring base music beat flow down to our feet
we danced to the beat
The wind would blow alluring strands of our soul
Seductively weaving like a candle flame
It danced provocatively fondled the depth
left us contented
A breath, a rosy blushing dawn appearing
To slumber, under shadows of hidden walls
In whisper snores in unruffled engagement
we sleep until noon
7/18/2020
STRAND completely new (12) any theme any form' Contest Info
Sponsored by Brian Strand
NOT for Edward's contest just Brian's contest
You’re torn between two identities
never knowing which way you should go
You dream of being a big city
but you're afraid to let yourself grow
There’s some folks who want to be country
other folks want a fancier life
Live their life free out on the prairie
yet spend nights with the family and wife
They want cooking like taters and meat
but they need it froo-frooed up a bit
When they’re ready to sit down and eat
they’ll need a bunch of garnish with it
All the hipsters ride their bicycles
drink their micro brewed beer in the bars
Cowboys eat pig’s feet that's been pickled
but drive over price pickups and cars
Ride a hundred miles to Missoula
to go to them chain restaurants and shops
If they open up in Helena
they won't go ‘cause it ain’t Mom and Pop’s
If a far off place you want to jet
you know it's really quite an affair
You must take a plane so you can get
to an airport that can take you there
Lest you have watched fifty winter's melt
well you're still just a foreigner then
Though people that come from somewhere else
numbers 'bout nine out of every ten
Time for winter after just two weeks
of cold springs, hot summers and cold fall
With dry grass valleys, snow covered peaks
creeks that flood or no water at all
No use to keep whining or crying
I know my home is where my heart sits
There just ain’t no way of denying
that Helena, Montana is it
He was raised by different indigenes,
After being embedded in specialized tissue,
Those moments were tough,
And in fact, it wasn`t easy for the mum,
Did you recall that point the dad was contemplating in hard times?
That was all about their child’s successfulness to arrive in a failing world,
Perhaps, the couples never stationed their class on dignation and confidence,
Because all over their positions were seen panic and indigence,
From the prime time of their worthiness,
The family had their story written on board of joy and gratefulness,
Effort opened door for the child to be learned,
The child was impelled to stay victorious bit by bit when knew she was grabbing a career she always altered,
Like a joke said by a drunkard, it was just a meep rimmed,
Panting untimely was due to dribbles from blowing wind,
New season arrived when the family got asserted to be placed on broken home,
Everyone had no choice than to feel alone,
Except the child who chose to climb the ladder before she broke her heart bone,
The ladder was “drug addiction life”,
It was “immoral life”’
Then what else?
“Desertion”, that was the significance of the ladder,
On a wrong path the child walked, joined a queue that laid a faulty hand making her a blunderer,
Who advocated a topic of caring for her?
Nobody searched for her whereabouts,
Since both parents were remarried, she was left in a drought,
It`s very sad, because her life turned into a bout,
After sojourning in vagrancy,
She was shot on the field of robbery,
And now her body is still in the morgue,
Whilst investigators inquire about what went wrong.
But who deserves the blame?
cat man had enough forced isolation
sabbatical dreams after quarantine
entered his hermit cage in seclusion
I need time out from lockdown he promised
they told me of the psycho cat’s demise
but cats have nine lives so I can spend one
and I may use it on my free accord
face my own mask and fearless persona
fantasize about chosen solitude
beat the rat race and feline adventure
the label I hide on the wine bottle
is a wise decal of aspirations
decanting the truth into fine crystal
bodes a farewell from forced captivity
while I look at the ceiling of limits
eerie floorboard creaks near the white sand beach
sanded pine wood pining for ocean’s roar
no more footprints I can walk on my hands
balance harmony and despair for good
when he woke up deluded in night sweat
pyjama purring and soaked wet with delight
claws clenched around fistfuls of withdrawal
clattering teeth grinding out last resolve
he took a swig from his wild genie’s flask
rolled a stone in front of his caveats
crept deep into his cave and growled
untamed will had been abandoned for good
and he dwelled in emotions and chuckled
social distance is not bad after all
I just don’t want to be told what to do
it’s in my genes I’m made for concealment
contagion won’t harm be for I’m myself
26th September 2020
Collaborate With Me contest
Sponsor Kim Rodrigues
She says I write (poems) only coz of her absence,
I said, I've known you since my adolescence.
Shared the joy, grief and every experience,
Enjoyed each bit of your coexistence.
Since you left, how hollow is my residence,
I fail to enhance any of its ambience.
In vain I tried a dozen incense,
But couldn't match a perfect fragrance.
You mark the bold feminine quintessence,
Just the perfect beauty and brain confluence.
Manage all with such due diligence,
My shining star with an unerring radiance.
I long now to feel your presence,
Time has tested our immense endurance.
Hope to keep some more patience,
Together we shove all hinderance.
Have'nt you felt my sole dependence;
Your memories truly have a divine omnipresence.
18 Oct 2020
Why don’t you turn your radio on
Listen to your favourite songs
Here comes another favourite now
Makes me wanna sing along
Sing along, sing along
Sing along to my favourite song
Music seems to set our mood
Pop or rock, soul or smooth
Funky music to get on down
Makes me feel like dancing around
Dancing around, dancing around
Dancing around to my favourite sound
Now that’s just music to my ears
I haven’t heard that one in years
That brings back sweet memories
Makes me feel so happy
So happy, so happy
So happy of those sweet memories
I love this tune, but I’m in tears
Takes me back to face my fears
Such a romantic lover’s song
Reminds me, when we sang our song
Sang our song, sang our song
Reminds me, when we sang our song
© Copyright KC. Leake
7th April 2015
All Rights Reserved
"Cats come in many kinds of personalities - the same as people do. Just be very grateful if a perfect one owns YOU." by Author
A lot of cats in my life I’ve taken in.
A silver Persian with green eyes was my first.
She was lovely, but so aloof – to my chagrin.
Some other cats had problems, but the worst
were those who would not use the litter box – I felt cursed!
Ralph, an ugly gray Persian with a smashed-in face,
had a purr like a roar; he was really nice!
Another Persian I’d named Lilah had a lady’s grace.
Black cat Razzmataz and Sookie (Siamese) – each one had her vice.
Strangely, not a one of them was interested in mice!
There was one cat I loved that was the best.
A plain-looking Calico was she.
Nineteen years she lived with us; I felt so blessed,
for Callie was as flawless as a cat can be.
After all these years, I miss her always being near me.
She’d follow me around, such a darling.
A little bell on her collar let me know
she was always there with its ring-a-ling-a-ling.
Today I have two boy cats -Simba and Chico.
They’re not bad, but next to Callie, they are only so-so!