Long Ladder Poems

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


Premium Member Traversing the Valley

With only a trickle of lifeblood left inside an empty lonely shell

Even rage had seized to flow from an insurmountable mountain 

Of sadness into the abysmal canyon of shadows and descent

	A cascade of nothing

		A waterfall of void

			Rapids of stagnation

				
Who needs a bridge when there is no path to follow the pain

No marker warning of slippery cliffs which may kill or relieve

As if there were rungs to imprint onto a mournful step ladder

          The other side in vain

                    Crossings blocked off

                              A turnstile of dried tears

Rest had become a euphemism for stagnant personified motion

Peace a mocking charade sung by desiccated vultures in waiting

Delusion an anchor of unfulfilled promise and deflated surrender

                              A pontoon with no mooring

		                        Blind cataracts of drift sand

			                          Ripples on a shoreline of drought

And yet when the floodgates opened and tears moistened the shore

You told me to stay put while you collected drift wood for passage

Vowed to furnish an overpass on foundations of love and compassion

                                                  Set pebble onto pebble

                                        Heaped hope into my heart

                              And bridged the gap in my soul
	
12th May 2020


Premium Member King of Terrors

For years, the King of Terrors  
had been blamed for every fear.  

At last, he agreed to be interviewed.  

He arrived in a black cape  
with a crown too large for the door,  
and asked whether the room  
contained any ducks.  

“Your Majesty,” I said,  
“people claim you are responsible  
for irrational fears.”  

“People,” he said,  
“are responsible for irrational fears.  
I merely receive the letters.”  

I opened the first file.  

“Elevatophobia.”  

“Metal cupboards  
that travel vertically,” he replied.  
“I rest my case.”  

“Climacophobia.”  

“A staircase, a ladder,  
or steep terrain  
with its safety removed.”  

“Nyctophobia.”  

“Darkened halls  
are corridors  
practising secrecy.”  

“Arachnophobia.”  

The King adjusted his crown.  

“Even spiders  
should have privacy.”  

“Anatidaephobia.”  

“Ducks are watchful,” said the King.  
“That is not irrational.  
That is observational.”  

“Xanthophobia.”  

He glanced nervously  
at the yellow pencil on my desk.  

“The sun is yellow,” I said.  

“Exactly,” he replied.  

“Turophobia.”  

“Cheese does not improve  
with being left alone in caves,”  
said His Majesty.  
“It becomes confident.”  

“Geniophobia.”  

The King lowered his own chin  
behind the royal collar.  

“Linonophobia.”  

He watched my untied shoelace  
curl across the carpet.  

“It is making connections,” he said.  

The clock ticked.  

“Your Majesty,” I asked,  
“are you frightened of anything?”  

“Certainly not,” he said.  
“I am the King of Terrors.  
Fear kneels before me.”  

I turned to the final file.  

hippo  
  poto  
    monstro  
      sesqui  
        ppedalio  
          phobia  

The King’s crown slipped sideways.  

“That,” he whispered,  
“is not a word.  
It is a corridor  
with no visible exit.”  

The clock ticked once.  

His Majesty screamed,  
diving through the window  
into a hedge  
full of cucumbers.

Premium Member Ladder of Bright Trail

Blue tunnel glimmers where dome meets the ray
in cadence of  lulled sleep, its final veil...
the flight grows misty in a blooming sway
as my soul climbs the ladder of bright trail;
where heaven’s portal dips in moonlit spray...
Awed by Mother Mary’s grace, I exhale
whispered prayers and sighs, for all deeds wrong,
then twice, thrice, harps release a lilting song.

First touch of kisses glints like winding sparks
I reach for Mom and Dad’s arms, gently mauve,
beside them, my brothers crowned by night larks
while we stride on a rainbow high above...
Then comes my school mate, queen of loud remarks,
embracing peace to thank our Enlightened Dove.

O timeless realm where sweet harmony dwells,
breaths of oneness chime for God’s final spells.



Dated 11/27/2015
Contest by Laura Urbanaik
I Went To Heaven~ 10 syl count per line
By nette onclaud

Premium Member Fortitude

Tall and thin
on ladder stuck
swaying left to right
by heavy luggage
weighted down
anger blinded
sanguine.
On the left
a grudging bag
as a victim soul
disguised
demon pride
on ego throne
not discerning 
judging
fear on right
paralyzing
circling around 
passive.
Drop your bags
travel ight
turn your gaze 
to the sky
right behind 
the passing clouds 
a new day
is brightening
taking truth
as guiding light
on the good 
received 
pondering
going forward 
energized
by the power 
of pardoning.
Gratitude
on left side
joy of charity 
on the right
to a happiness 
far beyond
by the mind
imagined
saying to God
in truth
I love You 
He'll respond 
with creation
in festivity
stars and flowers
moon and sun
all rejoicing
as He responds
I love you too
with unending love
eternal.

The Softness of True Love When Knowing the Deal

she climbed the ladder of success
i was there since the first rung
she now makes more money than me
i now surprise her with a red velvet cake
while digesting said red velvet cake, i give her an unexpected foot massage
see, the privilege is on MY end because i was the one she chose to give her heart to
why break her down and make her feel less than
she will leave my behind at first notice, and i will miss her soft acceptance of ME
knowing this, i draw her bath water, lukewarm with a pinch of hot
tea tree is the Queen's Royal Preference this evening
as i help her in the tub, i make her laugh and she returns the favor
i am relaxed, she is relaxed, and together we make sanity and happiness reachable
we cherish each other again, Knowing, but not knowing
i see MY Ladder of Success.......
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Chasing the Other Me

As a boy, I wanted to be a teen.
To be free from playgrounds, older and growing.
To go where I wanted, vibrant and seen,
Life as a kid, carefree and outgoing.

As a teen, I wanted to go on to college
To leave high school behind and move on.
Some naivety gone, now yearning for knowledge
Life as a teen, exploring and strong.

As a student, I wanted to learn then find work,
To leave Higher Ed and have money.
To put away study, I’ll start as a clerk;
Life as a student, is too poor for my honey.

As employed, I wanted so soon to retire
To step off of the ladder and goals.
To no longer control who I mentor or hire.
Life as employed, juggles so many roles.

As a senior, I wanted to stay home in bed.
To be free from the work my life has been.
To no longer sweat, but find rest for my head
Life as a senior, holds peace or chagrin.

As I die, all I want is my life to replay;
To leave this old body and go back to when
I could cherish each season and seize every day
God take me back, to my childhood again.
© Tom Valles  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

There Is No Better Time Than Now

“Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.”

Live your life every day to the best of your knowledge 
and remember to climb the ladder of reason, 
without leaving behind intuition or emotion. 

Make smart choices that align with your values and goals 
and don't be afraid to take a detour 
when obstacles stand in your way 

When you have a dream grab it with both hands  
don't wait until its too late,   
Its never to late to be what you should have been 

Live your life with no regrets,   
and always do your very best   
know there is no better time to start
than now !

Premium Member Elvin Allen - 1889-1905

Elvin Allen

1889 – 1905

They were like iron trees!
Hundreds of them!
Poking and piercing their way into the sun-lit sky,
Like moist fingers
Testing the wind direction to the east.
I was born into this Quaker town on Bright Street.
If you take a left from Broadway ,
You will see it
Our little white house with the dormer gables
And the shaded front porch
Where dad and mom sat on hot summer afternoons
Reading the Bible
And knitting my sister’s soft sweaters for winter time.
And we all sipped cold lemonade,
In glasses that twinkled in the sun.
I loved baseball.
And I loved hiking in the hills there
To the east.
Where I hunted squirrels and jackrabbits
With my taut leather sling.
And I kissed Belva there.
Then on the day I died,
I decided to climb one of them,
One of those iron fingers,
One of those hundreds of oil derricks
That sucked black crude from the hollow ground,
There in the eastern hills.
I almost made it to the top that day,
Inching slowly slowly slowly
Up  the side wooden ladder,
But I lost my footing nevertheless
And fell to my death at age 16.
And now here I rest
Waiting by this old rotting oak tree,
Here in Clark Cemetery,
Waiting for my bodily resurrection,
And thirsting, forever thirsting
For one more twinkling glass
Of mom’s cold lemonade.
Form: Epitaph

Where I Find Myself

Standing on the razors edge
Between darkness and light

Sitting in a folding chair
On the left side of right

Waving in the direction 
Of hello and goodbye

Twisted in between the scene 
Of I will and might

Climbing on the silver ladder
Of the ups and downs

Stuck somewhere in time
Of standing still and going round

Stuffed deep down in a box
Labeled Lost and Found

Pulling myself out of
Giving up and giving out

Hanging on wherever
Between the never know and there about

Knocking on the oak door
In the frame of in and out

Standing on the shore line
Of the river of dreams and waves of doubt

This is where I find myself
So many times just hanging out
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Time Has Come

My brothers and sisters the time has come
Let’s look in our hearts and live as one
We must learn to adapt and overcome
Our time on here on earth will soon be done

Let’s learn from our past and forge ahead
We are all responsible in how we make our bed
It starts at home with rearing our young
As you climb that ladder don’t miss a rung

We’re in a fix as you can see
The worlds in chaos don’t let it be
Step up to the plate and take a swing
You’ll be surprised at what you bring

It’s up to us, our future holds
Our actions now are not foretold
Start with love and testify
Together we’ll grow and not ossify
Form: Rhyme

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