Long Lite Poems

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


Id change

Verse 1- It’s like I’m here in the past, A depiction of first but I’m coming in last, I know you wanted this so disregard my regret, 
As I slowly lite this bowl imma toast a couple to you, cause ain’t no one got me like you got me addiction it’s true, you been by my side since my first steps my first breath you changed my life so no regrets, I got a feeling you’ll be there till I ain’t got nothing left, your my pain my misery my dreams right out the door, when I was scared to fly you clipped my wings now I don’t know how to soar. 

Chorus- I’d change but then you wouldn’t 
notice 
My shame don’t fall right In front of me 

My tears fall cause I don’t know how to be 

I’m falling out I’m back to none my feelings fade I save this one calling out I need your help with my last breath I scream it out.

If I tried would you even notice me 

Cause my blame it don’t fall right in front of me 

I’d cry cause I know you wouldn’t miss me 

 

Verse 2- I guess feelings have changed but I stayed the same. This name they don’t know it unless you are involved the game done changed it seems I’m a problem to solve. It ain’t my ways, it ain’t the same in fact if you weren’t involved this chapter wouldn’t have no ink at all. I’m bleeding out I’m fading fast I’m almost to the point of no return so save your self the curtains calling my last breath my last steps the encore is falling. 

Chorus- 
I left but you wouldn’t let me be 
  
If I changed would you even notice me 

Cause my shame falls right in front of me 

I’m falling out I’m back to none my feelings fade I save this one calling out I need your help with my last breath I scream it out.

If I change would you even notice me 

You said you’d be the one to better me 

You lied now I can’t see the same 
  
I’d cry but I don’t think their missing me 
   

Verse 3- I pictured and envisioned a different path but I’ve hit from the first to my last. I promise this new bottom will be my new last, I was destined to fall now I’m destined to soar I put my faith in my something greater now you’re gonna watch me fly 

Chorus- I changed and you wouldn’t notice me 

I’m scared but not like I use to be 

Cause this time I’m scared of positivity 

You asked why 

And I said cause I let go of you 

I change for what’s inside of me 

What’s inside of me


Premium Member Writer's Block

Every word, sentence and paragraph has three main components.  Each one has a beginning, a middle, and an ending.  On All Poetry there are two groups specializing in brevity.  Pure brevity and brevity.  Pure brevity can have as a complete poem only one word.  Brevity can have more than one. "There is nothing new under the sun."  But just supposing the words won't come, and you do not know what to say?  What words, or images or memories pop into your head and/or your heart or mind. Use your God given imaginations

You could say," My mind is a complete blank today.  I really don't know what to say.  I don't know how to think it.  I had a thought lingering in my mind for a few brief moments.  Than it slipped away like always.  Christians can rely upon Jesus Christ and/or the Holy Spirit for inspirational words and topics.  There is always the Bible.  And there are free on-line books of the Bible on the internet.
Jews can rely upon the Bible as well for background knowledge and/or information. The Bible is really for everyone.  When I was younger I used the Old Testament books of the Bible. Psalms and Proverbs.  I still draw upon the bottomless well of knowledge, the Holy Bible!

For example I wasn't sure if the correct word was either earth or world.  So I used the word earth. I searched the book of Revelations. Only to come up empty. The correct word I needed was world.  I made the necessary changes to my Psalm of Victory! The psalm is to be found on my All Poetry website.

Observational poems are based upon experiences either yours or other people.  The full white luminous moon lite up the starry nighttime's sky. Famous poets frequently relied upon nature for inspiration. "Poems were made by fools like me but only God can make a tree."  I forget her name, but remember one line of her famous poem.

Avoid having things either too short or too long. Depending  upon your composition and/or audience.  But there are one word, sentence and line poems.  Avoid being verbose and using fourteen letter words. Unless it is recommended. Jot down your thoughts, doddle do art work.  Whatever works out best for you and your prospective readers.  Pray really works!

Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
March 05. 2020
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Sunlight Wonder

Wondering;
Wanting something right;
In my life;
Totally corresponding to the rites;
Those rights of surviving in this vast universe;
Going, 
Going on;
Going on and on misty lights;
Wonders of culturally enticed;
Where are the heavenly's;
God has promised me;
Where are the birds inflight;
What about visions of marvelous;
Available for all of us;
Every word needs a friend;
So I placed a pen in hand;
As I place these words on paper, while sitting on the porch engaging;
All early morning sights
Gonna see every thing all right;
it's alright as I ponder..
In awe God's awesome 
Sunlight wonder. . .

Going to see the light
Brilliant brights seeing heavenly lights;
Sun light wonder, as I gaze across the skies;
Glorious wonders as I spy God walking in the clouds;
Sun light wonders bright in skies;

Still I'm wondering, wanting something right, in my life;
Totally corresponding to the sites;
The hills, the valley's beneath my feet;
The woodland small animals eating off the ground natures treats;
And I am going on, going on in the mists of the lights;
The lights that shine so ever bright(ly)
And I must go on, go on till I, see the face of my God. . .

Where are the heavens?
Where are the birds inflight?
What about visions of marvelous marvels, (oh my)
my, my, my. . .
brilliant bright seeing heavenly lights;
Sun light wonder, as I gaze across the skies;
Glorious wonders as I spy God walking in the clouds;
Sun light wonders bright in skies;
Sun lit wonder standing on the clouds;

Gonna see everything all right;
it's alright as I ponder..
In awe God awesome;
Sunlight wonder

Questing all my thoughts;
By passing my inner self;
All I have left;
Is to give up the breath;

Where are the heavens, in my life?
Where are all those birds that are inflight?
What about those visions of birdy's flying above me?
Glorious wonder as I now see God walking before me;
And what of all this beauty, then I must finally be;
I am in sun lite wonder and it's in me;



(From the forthcoming God's Children Writes Words, New Poems New Friends) 2010c
Form: Rhyme

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas 
my love
It’s another day we sing God’s blessings 
Distance may separate us but 
God’s love is the same everyday
Distance memories occupy my mind
Distance thoughts of our first good Friday walk
Our first kiss on that lovely Sunday
All ringers in my mind as I write this
Naive you were if not drunk with love
Foolish I was if not a fool I was
To think I could win a woman like you
First without a job
Second without money 
Third without an overflowing wallet
But God made His way felt in us
Not money nor my account won your heart
For despite my failures;
God won me your heart
Yes without a single shilling 
Yes without any candle lite dinner
Yes without even a single date 
God did the impossible for me possible 
You left your rich boyfriends for me
You forgot about class and started low in the society 
But slowly pride grew
You forgot where God took us from
Without applying for a job I got one
Without even any experience 
You witnessed God raise me up the success ladder
But you became cold and started been distracted 
Because you started believing am sleeping around
I didn’t need to for God watched over me
I didn’t have to for you were enough for me
But pride later on destroyed us both
Today am not single because you only cheated 
And you defiled our bed
No;am serving for my sins that I committed while you were my wife
Sins i could easily avoid but I didn’t 
Regretfully I have suffered family rejection 
Regretfully I pity the life our son is living 
Regretfully I fear that Christmas at your home
Is just a day of wishful thinking because 
You are always scolded for making me your decision 
One day God willing you and I shall be called to testify
What sin or error did we do that is not forgivable 
What sin did our son commit to know rejection and depression 
What error is this that you can’t ask for pardon 
What Christians are we that we substitute even what can’t be changed
Divorce or separation of couples is a no go zone
This is just a pile of wishful thinking 
But reality is in your heart and mine...
God protect you always 

Chuimunga the poet
26th/12/2021
© Chui Munga  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Vision of a Child

Under the Christmas tree sits a nativity scene in the old town square. I sit on a rustic wood bench and reminisce on the stories I’ve been told about Jesus being born on Christmas Day. When all of a sudden, I hear movement in the bushes; I turn my head and look over my shoulder. With a sudden fright, a tall pure white stallion with feathered wings, steps forward and says, “My name is Peg, climb on my back and I’ll take you to where it all began.” I arose to my feet and got on Peg’s back, held on tightly to his mane. He galloped off at full speed facing into the wind and took off soaring into the night full of stars, being guided by a large, bright, glowing star. 

      Peg turned his head and said, “That is the Christmas Star ahead.” 

      As I looked down below, I saw coming from the east, three men. Could they be the three Wise Men?    

      As we reach the star we slow down to a town. Peg said, “This is Bethlehem down below.” 

      Peg starts descending close to a stable and lands. I anxiously dismount and we both walk towards the stable. My spirit was overpowered with awe, there in the small dim lite stable, we found a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger, with his mother Mary kneeling beside Him. 

      The shepherds that were watching their flocks near the stable also came all elated, one of them said, “An angel appeared and told us a Savior, the Messiah, had been born and that we would find Jesus laying in a manger. So, we immediately came to see if truly Jesus our Savior was born.”

      The three Wise Men arrived and said, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His Star in the East and have come to worship Him.” They gazed at the young Child and immediately fell down and worshiped Him, they presented their gifts to him of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

      We stayed for a while in admiration of our Lord Jesus. 

     After a time, Peg said, “I need to get you back before you are missed.”  

      Together we flew into the endless night back home to the Christmas tree where I had been before. 


11/18/2014 © 2014
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Wish For a Day Was Granted

She was sitting on the edge of the bar stool
Not wearing anything but her wings.
I found it curious that no one else seemed
to want a peek and I could not stop peeking.

“What will you have?” the bartender asked.
She was a short, mean-looking, lined woman.
Her face had x’s and stars like the palm of an old hand.
“I ummmmmmmm…..I……..” My mind went blank.

The faerie laughed. Not a tinkling, sparkly, cutesy laugh
But the laugh of a trucker who had smoked a thousand Lucky’s.
How a fog-horn oldster laugh like that could come out of something
With such a lovely backside like that, I will never know.

I caught her eye, and she said, “Have a Bud Lite.”
“Bud Light,” I said, as if my mind had mushed itself.
A brown bottle was plunked down in front of me 
Seconds later, minus lid.

If I had wanted it in the bottle, I would have brought my own.
 “Eight dollars,” said the bartender. What? I was askance!
I was not trying to pay income tax or anything. Just buy a beer.
Which I figured should have cost around sixty-three cents.

“Give her a tip,” the faerie said. Her voice was lovely this time.
I looked at her, and she winked. She had the most remarkable blue eyes.
Suddenly wanting to impress her, I gave the bartender a twenty
And my traitorous mouth said “Keep the change.” What the H?

The bartender brought me another bottle, plunked it down 
And said, “Eight dollars.” I did not dare look at the faerie.
I looked down, at my hands.  “I did not order another one,” I said.
Weakly, ineffectively, unsure of myself now.

The faerie laughed. “Mom, this one’s on me,” she said.
I was suddenly in a terrific mood again. “This is your mom?” I said.
She nodded her golden curls, and I fell in love with those blue eyes.
“Time to go,” Mr. Sandbottom whispered. “You have had your wish.”

In seconds I was out on the sidewalk, myself, again, an ordinary woman.
“How was it being a man?” He asked me. “Did you like it?”
“Strange in many ways,” I told him. “Familiar in others.”
I heard the faerie’s harsh, cold, fog-horn laugh, which had no effect now.
Form: Narrative

A Fathers Gift

Your frequent absence made me question,
your existence and your importance.
I contemplated your possible ingredients to my growth.

I gazed at the stars at night, feeling the connection.
Hoping that you were watching, the same star lite sky.
Hoping you were seeing, the same images, that I was.
where ever you were.

You appeared.
Then disappeared.
Like the light of a blinking fire fly. I tried to grab that firefly,in the nature of a baffling night,but when I opened my palm, there was nothing in sight. I couldn't fathom your inconsistency of light.

I know you and my mom didn't agree on certain things. Thus you spewed words that you both regret now. Since you left, I became a ball with out air, under clouds that cried nails and chunks of glass.I pleaded with mystical nature, like freshly cut fingers of grass,pleading to hold sunlight of spring again.My vision obscure. Questioning your love and fatherhood all the more,and SURE that could change. 

Like season, if you gave me a reason, for your absence and you did.I was walking to the supermarket.With my head down,hands in pocket,rotating change,to cheer mood, with ***** sounds, of rhythmic jingles.

A hand roughly touched my shoulder,following with the words hey son!!!
where you going?

With perplexity I stopped. I turned slightly startled. A giant with facial hair,and a smile and a look, that some how made me forget, he was gone all the while. I gave him a hug. He gave me a bike and said hop on and look straight. He pushed and I peddled.After awhile,I looked behind me, he no longer had his hands on me,I was ridding alone.

Good job son! Keep going straight!

I laughed and did exactly that.
I rode my way to a happier day.
He ran next to me smiling with watery eyes. 
That explained every thing,
 that needed to be explained.

Then I realized he was guiding me,
with the absence of his hands,but 
remaining the presents of his fingerprints!!! 
His prints left instructions.


I CAN RIDE!!!


HAPPY FATHERS DAY!!!




Sponsor:Destroyer ~ Poet
Contest Name:Any poem 


Written by:Elliott Bowe
Form: Narrative

Television Triptych Throwback

Non-bachelor (batch chiller)
"FAKE" horror thriller
available Netflix starring
ghost of Phyllis Diller
stand up comedienne killer
brought down haunted house
witch sea hunt accompanied

theme song referencing Argonaut tiller
Greenwich Village location Barney Miller
lite precinct brewed fare of corpse
unearthed dead comedy duo Meara and Stiller
with surreal stalking candy corn canes
as bon appétit gnashing
gobbledygook filler.

Ice scream aghast with
blood curdling shriek,
the dearth of satisfactory
FIOS shows bleak
readying jump into polluted creek
thus, I bury alive yours truly
except his sharp pointed beak

exhuming him after rotted
flesh doth reek
perfectly tricked out 
for Halloween treat
masks long haired 
pencil necked geek
October thirty first when freak

alias Gadshill gadabout
poetaster doth sneak
feigning antonym anthem of meek
oh my dog, I lyft hind
uber leg to take leak
hoop fully haint nobody dares peak
urinate kidding ma bladder weak.

I long since waved
channel surfing adieu
much prefer silence
meditating under blue
skies peering into
infinite space nary a clue
intellectual conversation many disvalue

perched edge of seat and hunched over
how riveting story doth ensue
ah... time for commercial break
culinary wizard abracadabra
whips up fondue
easy as pie (are squared)
with consistency of glue

methinks Elmer stole patent,
cuz secret formula Hebrew
what with identical hue
as aforementioned adhesive liquid
doubling up to keep igloo
air tight even against
global warming, anyway would Jew...

aye betcha already knew
yes believe Yahweh endowed Semites
like me with high ike kue
of course after dumping
a load (reed) I feel sue
per ream intelligence dumbed down
(mine), especially after using loo
naturally decrease smarts

stings like poisonous
scorpion size of Eee moue,
which aforementioned papa's
poetic poppycock nonissue
saturating plethora home entertainment
most people overvalue
linkedin - shoot all stemming from
"idiot box" I rarely view.

Silent Whispers

Silent whispers scatter all round me 
Crowding me in making it hard to breathe 
Making me choke on all of the sin that I have committed
Making me weak 
making me come down to my knees
Praying in my head “OH GOD OH GOD PLEASE SPARE ME”
Save me from all of this agony 
Maybe I don’t deserve it because I brought it to myself 
but I was a child I didn't know the out come could be so persist 
Playing with fire was fun until I got burned 
And no I may not have any scars or buries 
But the thing that I had to see was everything crashing and crumbing in to ruins
Then it just blow away like the fire I use to lite the candle Thinking that it would bring light
But it when out and I was too deep to know my surrounding
Only thing that was there was darkness surrounding me in to the point where It took my breath
One two three I drop down to my knees 
Four five six the truth is sickening 
Seven eight nine dose hate and love have a thin line
Ten Is this the beginning or the end
And why am I not begging
I see the light but I don't come near
Because in the darkness I can see clear
But I am not sure if this is where I belong
Curious but yet afraid I still pursued
Just to get caught up by my demons who I thought we friend although I  assumed
See that's the only thing that can be tricky about the darkness
to fall in the hands of the enemy
without having knowledge 
But do I want to live if it has come to this
Not trusting my self
Not knowing the difference between the light and dark
Or maybe I know the difference but I have already tasted the bitter sweet taste of the dark
But I don't realize the difference any more making me question if the every was a separation
Are they one in the same?
because they both have the power to over come you
But you have to realize is the loss worth the gain
But heaven forbids for you to go out on your own
Because that candle that you hold so tight and dare to keep you away from the darkness
 can always go out by a sweet silent whisper
Form:

Facebook As Sounding Board

With a middle name as "Flag this Scapegoat,"
I best not be surprised bullied from cutthroat
villains (supposedly kind hearted facilitators/
moderators, sans Facebook administrators, but
woe whiz me hyperbole 4 lite dramatic affect),

mine psyche stung, when months after months
no incidents of lamentable discrimination did
I experience until...early this last week in Feb.
rue weary - BAM, many poems dispatched to
various and sundry Facebook poetry groups in

das scrim min hit lee suddenly generated host
till lit tee (within me every fiber and sinew) re-
guarding justifiable explanation necessitating
why (albeit vaguely worded electronic message),
yours truly did not comply with stipulations,

when no objectionable outburst could be linked
in with contents mainly implicating myself as
this doubting Thomas (foolhardy fella) rarely
loosed, lobbed, launched brickbats against no
one within madding crowd, hence exert at tent

heaven esse, when choosing my words, a shock
sparked anger upon a deluge of unexpected (the
equivalent of slap on the face) without warning
to address any unacceptable issue, which ready
corrections this mindful scribe would attend, no

questions asked, then methought an opportunity
presented itself to express displeasure, whether
warm reception ala royal carpet treatment took
place even if I brought a ratty old Scottish mat),
thus the mere exercise to expunge pent up anger

(electronically) automatically, excellently, and
immediately reduced agitation, an opportunity
to modify my behavior since pathetic unhealthy
modus operandi earlier during mein kampf, the
necessity to free emotions as a youngster beak

came internalized, whereat cumulative instances
when browbeaten, effectively - indiscriminately
needled, taunted, et cetera found me to swallow
indignities against mine person to communicate
without resorting to violent threat, which would
ratchet up a minor fracas into a major altercation.

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