Long Lifehome Poems
Long Lifehome Poems. Below are the most popular long Lifehome by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lifehome poems by poem length and keyword.
I didn’t want to go on vacation
I would rather stay home with my friends
When does being treated like a baby
In this family come to an end!?
We went to a stupid hot beach
I don’t even know how to swim
I would rather be practicing basketball
Back home in the high school gym.
I sat moping on the beach all alone
As the sun was starting to set
We’d been here for all of three days
I wasn’t having any fun yet.
Then I noticed her walking by herself
Silhouetted against the red sky
Just on the edge of the water
I was speechless as she passed by.
I watched her walk down to the pier
Where she turned and started coming back
I went down to the edge of the water
Making sure I would be in her path.
I was aware of this beautiful creature
Walking ever closer to me
Her blond hair gently dancing
Inspired by the ocean breeze.
She looked up and smiled as she passed
Slowing down for me to say, “Hi”
An opportunity I couldn’t respond to
As I simply let her pass by.
All night I stayed awake dreaming
Of this angel I saw on the shore
Silently thinking and scheming
What I would do if I saw her once more.
Next day I was on the beach early
To give my destiny a shot
I sat there searching and burning
The sun was so very hot.
Just when I was about to give up
And mope on back to my bed
I heard a sweet voice saying,
“Boy are you turning red.”
I’ll spare you all of the detail
From my steamy summer of love
When on a golden ray of sunshine
My future wife was sent from above.
I heard a shout and my vision was summoned to the skies,
To majestic colors that dazzled my eyes.
The sound of royal trumpets rang out so clear,
Accompanied with angels melodious voices that captivated my ears.
I started to rise with such a pace,
I could feel Gods glory upon my face.
I knew this day I was going home at last,
As I was jettisoned above the clouds so very fast.
Then my feet sat down upon a golden path that would lead my way,
To my eternal home on this glorious day.
There it stands, the most beautiful pearl laden gate I’ve ever seen,
And a little beyond is home so perfect and so serene.
Gabriel was there to send me back, he said I was to continue to share my love for the Lord,
It was not a request and leaving here was so very hard.
Then when I awoke, people and monitors were franticly moving all about,
But I was unable to move, and I tried to scream but I was unable to shout.
Then life started returning to that old shell of mine,
And someone shouted he’s alive, a miracle, I thought this guy must be out of his mind.
For I know what had happened was simply Gods will,
That I hadn’t quite finished fulfilling our deal.
On television movie "Dirty Dancing" again
To tell honest truth I felt warm after glow
This looked like a fun thing to do from where I stood
I thought and on my "Bucket List" it will go
But when I moved from my sitting stance_no_no way
Even though this "Dirty Dancing" fanned my flame
At my age just don't have youthful energy left
I will just have to pen a "Bucket List" by name
A very long list of fun things before life's end
Seek map and then go down a never travelled road
Go on a surrey ride to hear the horses' hoofs
Would that my love and I for horse not be heavy
In a hot air balloon basket flow on warm air
Only so many years_go to states not been in
No longer sit at home breath very deeply sigh
I'll be able to tell generations where been
No longer sit home and watch each and every leaf
My life wil move now as if it was set on fire
Skateboarding looks like so much fun_might fall and break arm
Join circus learn to perform by walking high wire
When I look at my "Bucket List" I get so sad
Like New Year Resolutions that I never kept
Need a new list of very achievable things
When I seriously thought about this I just wept..
It was a different world than we live in now
We had so much less but so much more
Mom’s stayed home to raise their kids
My Dad worked in a grocery store
We lived in a row home with kids all around
You never knew what to expect
Families earned whatever they needed
We learned self-reliance and self-respect
We might have a fight in the morning
There’d be a bloody nose or two
Later we’d walk to the park together
We were still friends when it all was through
If we could scrape together five gloves and a ball
We’d have enough for ten to play a game
You see we shared our baseball equipment
On that field we were all the same
We also shared our hopes and dreams
Our heartaches and our fears
We shared our victories and defeats
Our laughter and our tears
We had taped up balls and taped up bats
Wooden wheels for the old go-carts
We might have played with broken toys
But we never played with broken hearts
Now the years have past and time has changed
We’ve gone our separate ways
We have so much more than we did back then
But they were better days.
Recovering Adict: By Jessica Trotter
A.K.A BooBoo A.K.A The Lost Poet
I am
a teenager
who sometimes gets into trouble
a girl
who likes others
a red head
who has a temper
a bi-sexual
who is proud
an outcast
who use to be teased
a christian
who use to have no faith
a wiccan
who worships the earth
an 'inside-out Oreo'
who has country roots
a thrasher
who's at home in the mosh pit
a run away
who never ran far
a liar sometimes
so that i wouldn't starve
a drinker
only every now and then
a smoker
who finds it relieves stress
a patient
in my own mind
a stranger
in this home of mine
a hurter
who found much pain inside herself
a pill popper
who stopped before she checked out
a cutter
who has a hard time
a nightmare
if you catch me a the wrong time
a lover
who sometimes fights
a tree huger
who stands up for her rights
an activist
who argues a lot
a person
who use to smoke pot
a recovering addict
to all that i use to do
and i liar
when i say my home isn't broken to you
Form:
Today I awoke feeling rather odd
I was neither sick nor in pain
I just felt wrong
I was happy in a sad sort of way
I did what I had to do
Which was a whole bunch of nothing really
Got my wife off to work
My daughter off to school
Went to Psychical Therapy
And got tortured
Lifted weights for about an hour
Then came home and cleaned house
Did my yard work
Read a whole bunch of amazing poetry
Went out to the ranch and wished
I was already back to work
Talked to my boss
Told him the doctor said next month
He told me to not rush things
Next month will be here soon enough
Came back to town
Stopped by the collage
Enrolled in some evening courses
Went over and fixed this old couples
Sprinkler system
Refused to take their money
Came home and called my wife
To see how her day was
And now I’m just sitting here
Talking to the Lord about how worthless I feel
These Melancholy Days
dribbles tackles action home run
how often seen on the 10 o'clock news fame is the blame for wasted talent when given the chance
to make out the hood
and have the young look up to you what pride at what price to pay whats going on when the
dribbles and the tackles and the action and the home runs
are to much over your head all eyes on you at all times haters wating for your down fall wating for
your talent to be taken away given talent taken behind bars were is the support when making it all
the way
were are all your fans now when down and out they up and run we all fall short of glory not one of
us can say other wise when given a gift not to many posses we tent to go astray away from whats
real being real to your self is staying gold
easy come easy go just as fast it can all be gone from the spot light curtains downone more name
forgotten one more wasted talent
Form:
That summer your dad died
and we brought your mom
to stay a few weeks
‘til she moved to the nursing home
we drove east to Saskatchewan
the huddles of family
I’d never met
softly recounting your father’s fading
while Bessie washed dishes without a word
and looked for something
newly misplaced
Only you
her fiftieth gift child
who’d strategically shirked
corporate success
could flick the switch of recognition
her pleading eyes a conversation
translated in flesh
Back at home with a change of plan
to live together
as long as we could
with the front door swinging
the kettle screaming
dry on the stove
and Bessie shuffling the winding road
in search of church or bingo
'Til leaning down to hug “goodnight”
your eyes her open sky
where every memory softly whispered
Bessie back into the light
My name is Loreen Parke and I’m from Detroit City.
I’m quick. My Mom calls me ‘Slick’
My friends say I’m Witty.
No wants. No warrants. No priors.
No dirty deals. Strictly cash buyers.
I’m a very busy woman with no time to waste.
I’ve got Big Dreams, High Hopes & Expensive Taste.
Think slow. Talk fast.
My connections are tight.
My options are vast.
Just like the ‘Kid’ I’ve got my ‘ghetto pass.’
I grew up here. This is my home town.
These are the blocks that I’ve been around.
Don’t think you can show up and start changing the rules on my play ground.
That won't fly. The bottom of the Detroit River is where you’ll be found.
This is Detroit. The Motor City. The One and Only Motown.
This is where I grew up. This is my Home Town.
Loreen Parke
May 22nd, 2004
He lies at home in his single bed all alone,
Conjuring up in his head another new poem,
About a lover who does not really exist,
But in his mind her image still persists.
He’s forty years old and has never been with a girl.
He’s afraid to leave his room for the outside world.
What he knows of love he learned from his TV,
Yet he amazes us all with his beautiful poetry.
His prose is full of pure, virtuous, sensual imagery;
He describes his lover in a woman’s perfect symmetry.
You feel his love full of romance and desire;
His words of lust ignite your passionate fire.
The man who writes verse about what he never knew
Produces images that no experienced lover can out do,
As he lies at home in his single bed all alone,
Conjuring up in his head another new poem.