Long Learnt Poems

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


The Flight of An Arrow

Dawn broke
The eastern pink sky
Drew across the stars
As they faded and lost to the night

 

I called the eagle
To guide me
Piercing whistle
That I learnt as a boy
Running wild and free

 

I walked in the company of men
High above, eagles flew
The wraiths are coming from the otherworld too
Carrying the angst and pain
That has no place and name
Here at Heartstone

 

The screeching and wailing
Increased hideously
The tattered cloaks
Scattering the scree

 

I stood, with the company of men
My bow ready
Arrows drawn
Arm, steady

 

I have trained to defend
Truth and love
Nobility
Chivalry

 

The wraiths gathered
The screeching and wailings
Piercing through
To our souls
We are ready
To fight to the end
To defend
All that is true

 

The flight of an arrow
Unleashed
Steadied by the eagles’ feather
Of brown and gold
It flew
Straight and true
In to the non existent heart
Of a wraith bitter and cold
It was this I slew

 

A bundle of rags fell
For it is not the metal tip
That killed
It was the feather of a Heartstone Eagle
Truth be told
That slew
A wraith, bitter and cold

 

The wraiths flew
From behind the mountain
The   screeching and wailing
Tattered cloaks
Scattering the scree

 

They came in their hundreds
To fall
For, truth and love
From a feather
Of a mighty eagle above
Slew the hearts
Bitter and cold
Brown and gold glow
Flashing by
The flight of an arrow
The archers
Standing tall

 

The gleam of brown and gold
That flew
Deep in to the cold bitter hearts
Of stories now told
Of men of the longbow

 

 

I reached
I pulled 
Many arrows to fly
Of a star
Of a longbow
Aquila am I

 

The longbow of dark wood
Felt my strength
As I clasped its’ bronze inlaid feathers
And reached
And pulled
Arrows of brown and gold
Deep into wraiths
Its’ purpose understood

 
The sky turned black
With eagles that twisted and turned
Of wraiths, slain
Felled by the longbow
Down they fell
In to their own stinking hell
The brown and gold aglow

 

Darkness falling
The fires lit so bright
In a company of men
That celebrated under starlight

 

Remember….
This day well
When the archers
Masters of the longbow
Sent the wraiths back
To their stinking hell
Of Aquila
Who slew
More than most
The flight of an arrow
That holds true
Form: Ballad


Birthday Gifts

I don’t think I shall quite forget the name Camilla Martin.
She’s the teacher of me grandson at the local kindergarten.
No question she’s a lovely lady; dedicated through and through,
but the lesson that she learnt this day is one that I learnt too.  

It just happened on the day I drove young ‘Gaz’ to kindergarten,
there’s a special birthday happening - it’s his teacher Mrs. Martin.
I wondered why young Gazza had this present all wrapped up,
so after telling me the reason, he whispered “It’s a cup.” 

It was a special morning for all the Mums and Dads were there.
I was the only Grandpa but young Gazza didn’t seem to care.
There’s a birthday cake with candles, lollies, hats and lemonade, 
and the kids all brought a present … and I’m glad I overstayed …

To see the look upon the faces of the kids who held their gift,
as Mrs. Martin stood up at the front to give these kids a lift, 
by waiting to receive each offer as presented one by one,
and she really liked the cup handed to her by me grandson. 

And the other little children were quite interesting as well,
as they stepped up to the podium with a similar tale to tell,
when Mrs. Martin made predications to what the wrapping held,
for she knew the parents business thinking that their gift has gelled.  

She’s spot on with Jenny Damon whose family own a florist store. 
Mrs. Martin beamed out “Flowers,” and Jenny smiled, “For sure.”
When the local milk bar’s Billy Cann stepped up beaming bright,
Mrs. Martin said “This must be chocolate,” and Billy nods “That’s right.”

Mrs. Martin waited patiently for ‘Ginger’ Roberts from the hotel,
who stepped forward with his gift that she thought that she could tell,
because it appeared somewhat a shoebox that did have an ominous sign;
it appeared a bottle’s leaking and she gathered it was wine.

Mrs. Martin put her finger in the liquid but the taste to her is strange,
and for a joke she said to ‘Ginge’, “Is this not Penfolds Grange?” 
‘Ginge’ answered “No” so Mrs. Martin tried to guess again,
with one more taste upon her lips, she asked, “Is this champagne?”

‘Ginge’ shook his head when saying “No”, so Mrs. Martin gave a sigh, 
“Well I give up,” she smiled at ‘Ginge’ “No, I’ll give it one more try.” 
So on her lips goes one last taste to resolve this gift of grog
as Ginger interrupted - “Mrs. Martin … it’s a little puppy dog.”
Form: Rhyme

Enchantress (Let Me Chisel Talk You) Part Two

(Continued from part one.)

Afire not his thoughts, the Devil sees,
He soars and roars, in his physical might.
His bears’ hug, his warmth, could melt you;
Into joys and tears, in willing submission.

Treat him not, to your portions of love.
He grows cold, is lost in erotic rage.
Wiggle not mermaid, in bouts of passion,
The dough you kneed, may turn love to hate.

Dare not the wile witches’ craft;
Lest he banish you to the earth’s folds,
To burn in hate, love and desire,
Forever and ever, in eternal penance. 

Spurn not his love for the unknown,
With frivolous, eyewash camouflage.
He watches behind the scenes,
Your tremors in the curves and the lips;

You innocent, blooming seductress,
Holding the Mega-staff, letting reptiles sing:
You bore the man, the crowned lord of vice.
Rip him, Independence, to his natural doom.

Haven’t you learnt, you Hollywood menace?
Ever seen Javed Jaffery the  Tellywood, Bollywood
Lollywood and Mollywood a few dozen like you?  
Tent walk dove-eyed, bumps to the moon.

Kanjiwaram, the Casanova Frenchie,
Break dance in  airs to the Eiffel Tower.
Red herring you to the Spanish bulls.
Joy ride Rolls on BMW’s track.

Con the Germans and the Japs.
You, wonder android, generations ahead.
(Forget the Merc-E, TELCO ties,
Or their Sumo-ing the Japanese pride.)

Take care you fool, Govinda could snare,
Rap tap the Seghal to his toe’s.
Golden Eye the double O’s latest dream.
Kung-fu Steven’s at his own game.

Anti-gravity NASA, with mental fields.
Stealth fly you out, from the Pentagon.
Biotech you back into American laps,
Genetically engineered, Gene cultured, wreck.

Brain-virus Microsoft, in config-trees,
Space walk you to the final frontiers in enterprise.
Dance away the foxes of your clan.
Ultra culture, the real London breed.

In knacks of, how to wink and blink.
Lifting eyebrows? Take care you oaf,
Run you goat! and don’t turn your head.
He is the cool cat, really looking his English best.

Flee, before the gambler, he is still there,
Smirnoff you to the Hustler`s  care.
Toss you around, under Playboy’s thumb.
Floor you with his catwalk fun.

Cradle you, to the American roost;
Chickening out, not now KFC hen.
He is “She selling sea shells on the sea shore.”
In wizard glee, those Colgate teeth his real hope.

(To be continues in part three.)
© Jai Garg  Create an image from this poem.

Hey You

Hey you,
I know what you are going through
Trying to stand tall and strong
While a deep rooted pain arising from within
Is eating you from the inside	
You don’t know what is causing it
You don’t know how long it will hurt
But through all the pain and hopelessness
You still smile

Hey you,
I see the tear stains on your cheeks even after you brush them away
I wish you wore them with pride
Like battle scars or war paint
For every moment when you don’t give in to those thoughts running in your head
You become a warrior

Hey you,
I know self-worth is a foreign concept for you
You think you are not good enough for them
For her
For your dreams
Or for life itself
But you are wrong
They are waiting with open arms
She is waiting with an open heart
Life is waiting with all the opportunities you desire
Let them in
For if they thought they didn’t deserve you
They wouldn’t be waiting
For the moment when you are ready 

Hey you,
I know those days of hopelessness
When the pain becomes too much
When you feel like running away
From everyone and everything
When you feel like running away
From yourself
Just remember
No matter what
Come back home

Hey you,
I know those times
When you think too much
Worry too much
And don’t want to fight anymore
During those times, just remember
It will be fine
How do I know?
Because I have been through it too
Carrying the burden of the world’s opinions
On my shoulders
I lived every moment in anxiety
Had trouble sleeping through the night
Even though my nightmares felt more comforting than reality
I felt alone and defeated too
I had been broken
But then I learnt
To sing a little louder
To dance a little crazily
To let go of the burden of other’s opinions
And most importantly
To laugh a little more freely

I have learnt
That I don’t always have to be the best
Just the best version of me
That I don’t always have to be strong
That I shouldn’t be scared to cry
And wear my scars with pride
As they have made me stronger

So here I stand
Waiting for you with an open heart
So let me share your burden and lighten your shoulders
Let me give you a light if it feels to dark and cold
Let me make you a warm cup of tea for I know you are tired
 I just want you to know
You will be ok
So hang in there
And enjoy this moment
Spring is right around the corner

Of Those Things That Come In Black and White

We opened a book that started with the name 
of our country.
The right side was numbered corruptions  and the other side was numbered greed & bad leaders.
We burnt the stride of our bodies into aches and dreams waving away fire and foliage of silence.
Women learnt to carry portrait of bodies of their dead children on their shoulders, beautiful corpse. 
It reminded us of the civil war in front of our Father's betrayed house. 
It reminded us of lyrics written on the walls of our Hut with a framed keys of memories.
Love that taught us to look back into our heart and draw current of men in their ignorance in search 
of a better home than those bridges we burnt.
Things like the pains in the eyes of a boy,
Things like the tale on the lips of a girl,
Things like sadness in the soul of a mother painting the images of her lost children in prayers. 
Those strange tears stranded between chapters of the smoke as they travelled to the lonely cloud,
With the echoes of our forefathers last libation
Like the voices trailing from a boy's name for the lost of his prestige. 
There are things that we may not know that leave our footprints to our heart through the opening in our nostrils and ears. 
In our land was where a boy once stood on the face of the sun, his shadow reflected on a mirror. 
He saw his future carted away by his fears. 
Lost girls found in his assaulted plights 
Trying to find home in a shark's mouth. 
They hold water from the oceans together basking their hope on the traffic of women holding their bodies and leaving their dead for survival. 
We do not live in the moon! 
We do not whisper to the wind of the song we
 heard him sing every day! 
Of things that come in white and black are
 like our straying country weeping with the
 images of the masses.
Like those corpses brought back to BENUE. 
Those images are the images of darkness projected by a big screen of the sky to our eyes. 
Our names burnt into different rivers holding different tribes that seek for freedom. 
We wrecked our testimonies to bleed blood with flames to suffocating cities surrounded with pity. 
Those things on white are  the way we were built but the black demons corrupted us all leaving memories to sneak our hearts into dark places where mischievousness can take over us. 


©John Chizoba Vincent 
From_A_Pen_Refusing_Frustrations.


Treasure of My Soul

Conflict
 
The priest ran
Scared to raise 
An ignorant army

On a darkling plain
Loading guns
With dummy

Faith. The froth
Rose arrogantly
In the test

Tube.  They heard
Eyes shut and saw
Ears plugged,

Contorted faces
Expecting the explosion
Any moment.

Slowly
Very slowly the froth
Spilled over

Leaving behind—would
The “faithful”believe?—a near
Essence of religion.



         














I Meet A King


He stood in the middle of the lane,
A toddler in tatters,
Confronting my speeding scooter.
I cursed the nowhere –in-sight,careless mother,
Then shifting gear,
Threatened a mock dash,
Was to him but a big plaything
Come for his pleasure.
The sudden smile over his face
Lit up my heart.
I withdrew a little,
Bowed to his imperial innocence
And humbly went my way.



       
The Sea Of Truth,Land Of Desire


Daunted by its drowning depths
I sought assurance of the rocks
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly.

Frightened by its flood and froth
I clambered inland hurriedly
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly.

Nerves racked by its wheeling surge
 Tried land’s many pleasure groves
But the sea – it called me ceaselessly,

Looking for my roots in glades 
Soon was lost among the trees
And the sea – it called me ceaselessly.

On the beach I sat once off my guard
When the sea crept near me silently
And the sea – it licked me  lovingly.


That moment joy and fear were one
My visions did a somersault
And the sea – it soaked me ceaselessly.

Sea’s mercy makes the inland rich
Sea’s magic makes the sunset glow
And the sea – it gives us ceaselessly.

O thou formless yet unfailing sea
My very own though boundless sea
In turmoil O thou tranquil sea !

I have learnt the timings of the tide 
And make obeisance to the waves
For the sea now thrills me ceaselessly.

How l would to love to leave the shore
And whale-like wallow in the sea
For the sea – it thrills me ceaselessly.

But awed by its mysterious depths
I still sometimes walk the earth
But the sea –it loves me ceaselessly.
  












 

Child How Innocent!Lord’s Delight
Crawling,toddling,frolicking sight,
Playing,lisping,smiling bright,
,Eating,drinking,gaining height
Alive all day,dead at night,
Present gaiety future might,
Nothing bothered wrong or right.
Child! How innocent,Lord’s delight,
Gift from Heaven trailing light.

---------------*-----------*-------- *----------* ---------
Form: Rhyme

Nature Born from a Womb

It’s the same everyday
The same wind, the same lush
The same whisper, the same tale
Yet, in the mist that blows
Through the sunlit meadows
I hear the same voice
Echoed different
Each time.

As my gazes fall
From the subtle ocean floating overhead
Carrying its tiny islands
To the coasts near the tangible oceans
There’s the wonder on him
Who let’s me stand.

There’s the thunders, Earth echoes
Through its hollow corridors;
And the storm it carries
Wanting to put everything in motion
It screams, and screams
It doesn’t know why,
As its voice, silence its ears, but others.

There’s the turmoil
It wishes to understand
So he shook the ground
That refused to let him
Stand his ground
The earthquakes with their heavy blow
It was its breakdowns.
The fear, now replaced with anger
Wants to have peace
He decides to unleash
Not wanting to care
But to let the land burn;
Volcanoes were made
When it had its meltdowns.
As the torment inside him grew
He tormented the world, he nurtured.
Threw his tantrums
As cyclones and tsunamis.
Like a human, Like a child.

Still, it has the tranquility,
I often wondered how it kept;
With all the commotion, he caused
And the ones, they brought.

I admire the seasons it bring 
The summer, when it felt the warmth;
Warmth of the sun
And the chuckles of the new born green.
The spring, when it felt the love;
From the giggles overheard
Near the fresh flower bed
To the wisdom bestowed to the sages
By the Himalayan mountain ranges
With their long white beard, 
Love was heard.
And then,
Came the autumn, when it retreats
To find the love within, engraved within.
To find it’s gemstone,
To reach it’s milestone.
Soon the wind arrives with its spikes
Now the nature retreats,
A different way.
It hikes the earlier Santa Claus-ed mountains
To heal himself, for the next year.

I admire the seasons it bring
The wind, the rain
It learnt to unwind it’s tantrum
In the solitude,
In the same solitude
It offered to the seekers.
It learnt to deal with his surges
Deal with himself.
Like a human. Like an adult.

Yet, it acts like a child
Every now and then
And a few other times.
It has flaws, but it grows
It lives to be born again
And born, to live again. 
Different, each time.

A human contained in the nature,
A nature contained within a human.

Subliminal

Only if you knew that you live like a God in a place my heart has found you fit to rule
only if you knew that I would be the opposite of what God would cal one of his own if I Were to find out that not only I 
 Can make you smile and make you feel sugary and not have an explanation for it
Only if you knew
you would recent the idea of falling asleep on my chest 
The very foundation of your peacekeeping concentration camp would play out like the rest
You would start believing in a curse
only if you knew what would happen in the Myst of a fairy-tale Adam and eve would see themselves immortalized in being chopped in half 
if My existence learnt that the absence of another man in one of the most important days of your life brought you nothing but the question of where you stand 
while I. The King Still reigns by your side
I would crack open the heavens and drag down an angel with its wing
Hold it down long enough till the sins of this earth stain it so that the rejection would last longer that than existence itself
Only if you knew 
How that stayed with me without knowing 
The honesty we find in solace 
sets us on road trips we don't have lunch boxes for
sometimes,is it about listening or is about subjecting yourself to the moral of what is right
My dear 
I know the power of chemistry,It has the tendency of showing off by blowing up before the magician can make a perfect landing
Especially when the story was left on a good note
subliminally, 
He invaded my castle 
killed my guards and two pit bulls  got into my fortress
sat on my throne and felt home
only if you knew what it does to me 
That you too can establish communication that is no where to be seen
It breaks my ego in what can be put together again 
only if you knew
what I would give to have the ability to snatch his contact numbers off your mind 
you can look me in the eye 
Serenade me with what you have to say with your mouth but its your eyes that I am looking for
windows to your soul my love
I wish you knew
how beating your life because your heart is deformed can have an impact in your trust 
The trust our names  put together rhymes with  
Subliminally 
 Are we really that strong? 
are we aware of the vulnerabilities that are there to parish us off
Maybe just maybe
I am reading to much into a dream 
could the feeling be mutual ?

The Legacy

The Legacy

Teenaged girl of only eighteen years she was when
Hastily betrothed to a man who was twice her age then
By parents who were overwhelmed with fear and worry
About four daughters who they had to send off to marry

My Mother, she was the eldest of the four sisters
With the responsibilities to care for even her brothers
From early childhood she learnt the wearisome ropes
Which proved opportune training for her in future to cope

With a foreboding dad and a frail mum such as theirs
She had very little option but to take the reins in her cares
 Persistence, sacrifice, self-denial were on the top of the list
Cleaning pots and pans in comparison was the very least

The man she was betrothed to had neither status nor treasure
His assets being mainly kindness and love in great measure
With the little money honestly earned, toiling together 
Bonding and building each other, in preparation for a future

My mother was a self-taught seamstress and dad a talented tailor
When the days’ earning weren’t enough, they burnt the midnight oil together
Amidst complains and criticisms they humbly took their stride
In delivering their goods to satisfy their customers with pride 

Their nest now filled with warmth of their love and happiness
Together they looked forward to God given marital bliss
One by one their off springs then came along
To dwell in this place called home, for years, to belong

The little that they owned in material worth
Became even less but we for sure, added to their mirth
Never a day went by when we were in want
Cause their love was abundant and that’s all we cared about

The Legacy they left was not diamonds nor pearls
But virtues and values which would hold us up in coming years
And the lessons we learnt over the hard times we went through
Helped build our characters, in retrospection I view

They taught us to love and care for each other
And also those less fortunate, who we ought to call ‘sister ‘or ‘brother’
Share whatever you have they would kind-heartedly say
God is watching and will send fresh blessings your way

So mum and dad though you are not here anymore
In spirit your constant presence surrounds us, your Legacy is right here
The three children you have raised are mirroring your ways
Mum, you always said, “It is God’s guiding hand in the first place”.
Form: Rhyme

Oh What a Day

My New Poem, Raw and Uncut
Oh What a day
Oh What a day when black people stop pray 
Pause and realize where their horizon lay
Where the pastures are green, yet remains unseen,
What a day when we look in perception 
and see the path that lead to today , 
yet we keep reliving the past
the ignominy of a bygone day.
Oh What a day 
when we clear the path 
of delusional ideologies and alien songs
Home is where the heart is
But in Africa, Humanity began
Oh what a day 
when we see our purpose, 
That from the cradle, the creator blessed us , 
not conceding to the thought, he cursed us.
Oh what a day 
when our leaders
plants the seed of economic sufficiency
than clearing the path to cooperate greed.
When will our leaders in the west indies
Revisit our history and shine a light
To our glorious African history
That’s kept from our sight.
Oh what a day, when we hang our wall 
An image of our creator
Blessed with the dark shades of the sun
Telling the truth, of how it began
Not reflecting what its never been

Oh what a day, 
when we learn to love, 
our African brothers despite what is said.
West Indies may be your homeland
America and others are a part
But if you are a blackman
Jamaica may be your homeland 
but keep Africa in your heart
The motherland, 
your primary thought.
Oh what a day
When we see the light
And know the meaning of life
That regardless of material things
There is a glorious life
In sharing, caring, preserving life.
Oh what a day
We don’t need no gold or diamonds rings
No motor cars, no air plane, none of these earthly things
For the riches that the earth possess 
Even if you are a poor man , they are priceless
And if you are a rich man, they too become useless
Oh what A day, when the angels sings
And cashes not, just to wear the bling
That steals the soul, and corrupts the heart
Costing life at an escalating cost
Oh what a day when we start again
And share the spirit that our ancestors had
The love of our mother, sister and brother
Where dad played his part , 
Getting the harvest, bold and strong
Defending the virtues of the mother and Motherland
Oh what a day, 
when the daily propaganda, no longer influence
Because we have taught the youth 
Home is where the lesson is learnt
Righteousness the only path
For human coexistence, 
We need a kind heart/

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