Long Lonely Poems
Long Lonely Poems. Below are the most popular long Lonely by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lonely poems by poem length and keyword.
I can’t complain I’m sheltered and fed
But this nagging ambition still builds in my head
Of what was written and what was said
Of a lonely road far from my bed
You don’t venture far tiny bird in the thicket
The home you mind is safe from the wicked
It’s a shame you can’t fly far away
And see all the cultures time built on its way
With the people of both peace and war
And the beauty of things in nature to adore
But your home is well kept and happy it seems
But what of your heart, your wishes and your dreams
I can’t feel shame it would make me weaker
About the wasted moments left to the meeker
The scoundrel in me keeps my heart from fever
But fever is wanted by my soul the dreamer
So tiny bird would you say you much wiser
The time you spend you count like a miser
Or is it that you take simple love in your day
In the little you make from the soil and the clay
Do the storms bother you at all little one?
Do the storms keep you hiding waiting for the sun?
I see the light is there in the weather so destructive
Are clouds to you renewal or counter productive?
I take it we differ in thought and song
Though I can no longer say yours is wrong
But I take from you a lesson - a lovely subtraction
In the happiness to be found in simple satisfaction
Lula Pickering
1887 – 1906
Have you seen my bluebirds today?
Have you fed them a few crumbs of stale rye bread?
I must have taken a hundred walks as a young girl
In search of my freewheeling friends.
And with only my slender shadow at my side,
I recited a million silent invocations to my Lord.
I greeted the noon tide on those many happy occasions
As if in flight myself.
And my only friends,
Regaled in flying blazing blue,
Flew with me to fantastic heights
And I kissed the rising sun a hundred times
But received not even a smiling sigh in return.
And it was in Black Canyon
That I discovered the one true answer to my only question in life.
I discovered that love is a clinging cloud
That arrives and sometimes lingers.
Or it is a cloud that moves on quickly
Like a late train to Los Angeles in 1904
Leaving only a faint wisp of windy dust in its wake.
Roscoe Settle was that cloud;
A cloud at once full of light and rare beauty.
A cloud that stood still and refused to wink or budge.
But I gave Roscoe Settle my pursed lips
And like a silly infatuated fool
I gave him the hidden treasure within my bosom.
God knows that I pleaded and begged like a panhandling maniac
For my handsome boy to stay.
To stay forever with me in this town of sensational sunsets
And of soaring spiraling bluebirds
In search of a lonely jilted girl
Who now walks as an ethereal restless ghost
Amongst the crosses and stone lilacs of this dead land.
Only my parents knew of my untimely demise.
Only the sheriff and Mr. White knew that I took my own life.
And that I ended my life over Roscoe Settle.
I found the old rope in my father’s barn
And the last thing I remember
Was the quick snap of the rope
And of my soft svelte neck
As I threw myself,
Noosed and sad
From my father’s hay loft
On a moonless August evening.
Looking to belong you done me wrong
Yet I can't let you go I still love you so
My heart said yes my brain told me no
Before I could decide, you left without a goodbye
Leaving me so blue and so lonely
Leaving me asking myself if only
Leaving me an empty shell but with my nights fulfilled
Leaving me with my sweet dreams of your loving thrills
Crying tears on my pillow
leaving my heart broken in two
All I have left dear
are my sweet dreams of loving you
Time is frozen like a song without rhyme
Lost in heartache when you were mine
My days are numb and my nights are long
Leaving me with my sweet dreams
My beautiful sweet dreams, when with you I belonged
In my sweet dreams where with you I belong....
Threads of Thoughts
threads of thoughts
ever trail my mind
as a companion
that never leaves me lonely
as I stroll along
the corridors of life
in the stillness of solitude
in the midst of the multitude
at the break of dawn
during sunshine of the day
in the dim shadows of twilight
and darkness of night
as a moment without thought
I cannot be myself.
threads of thoughts
ever stand by my side
as a guardian
surveying my ins and outs
all along my journey
counselling me
on the road ahead
in search of my goal in life
as without them
I would be like a ship
without a captain
that will sail in the wide sea
without knowing
at which port to land
Vivacious, practical, self-directed
Mary Bailey, nice body
it makes no sense that just because George
might never have been she suddenly becomes a shy,
homely, lonely librarian without a dog or god.
No, it did not fundamentally matter
whether George was born except to his mother. Potter
might have taken over but why should the morality
of a whole community decline? As for the ship
going down, if a butterfly in China had fluttered
right instead of left 10,000 years ago
the tragedy would have been entirely averted
in fact the whole war would not have happened!
I pleasure in and treasure
my insignificance. If only
I could be overlooked
by the planning board and IRS.
One false note gives the lie
to the whole premise. God died
but was elected posthumously to the Senate
as for the Big Bang theory, when it
supposedly happened what surrounded that
golf ball of matter and now what
occupies the time beyond the farthest edge of space?
My wife over dinner laughs, says Face
it, you'll never know so stop asking questions.
That is how we must make music, mindful of our extreme
limits, our politics, our complete dependence on the theme
of God as feedback, bifurcation and correction.
I write this to you,
the child in me that hasn’t grown up yet.
You may remember,
the yonder blue hills from the hazy horizon
cascaded gently down the emerald gradient
of the rhythmic undulations of alluring landscape,
that carved the contours of the charming hamlet
where your endearing home was once cradled,
nurturing you in the bounty of beguiling nature.
The pristine panorama of clouds sliding silently
upon the curvature of canvas of the cerulean sky
where your unbound joy soared to great heights
with the colorful kites you loved so much to fly.
A gleaming stream gliding with glistening liquid pearls,
flowed with the flamboyant facade of silvery splendor,
bedecked your sprawling house with an ornate garland,
made of embracing loop of the mesmerizing meander.
On its rippling water you sailed rainbow-tinged paper boats
that glided wobbling on the current’s tortuous trail.
On these you perceived to a distant dreamland unknown
your mariner mind with teenage fantasy used to sail.
The boats have disappeared with the ebb of the lost time,
in lonely hours the childhood moments I live with naivety.
These are the few flashes of memory
that illumine my nostalgic mind with love for you.
Life, love is in your pocket, just share me, give it to me
I can’t give it to you, it is closed to you. Dark loves you
My life is dark. Everybody knows my past. Night that life
This life wants to be your will. Your respected life. Dark
I am the darkness. I will be the darkness. Only for you
Life, you just loved someone. She loved you. The you
Loved me? I cannot understand. Unbelievable for me
Let me touch you with my heart. Do you feel my soul?
My soul is stone. Beton. There is no soul. Destroyed
Your heart yearns for the last love. That was eternal
I still love. This guy wants something from you. Satan
The life. The love. The eternal. Key? Loving the other
Life, thank you. Don’t be a judge. You are king. Love you
I drive you, stay on my path. Lonely silence. But lovely. So
Life, drop me a love
Where is it located?
Tell me soon. I move
Youth was just a lone brushstroke
Foolishly, I thought it would forever glow...
the same best friend forever
the same candy store from heaven
the same field of flowers gold...
but youth never really had a chance.
It was dragged from the warm tide pool
into the deep blue end.
So many wasted moments
swinging from the social anxiety tree
lonely bee looking for the flower
amidst a decade and a half of cold concrete...
The best friend died of liver disease
the heavenly candy store is gone
eaten by a horde of attorneys
the wildflower field plowed under
by rows of broken homes.
One brushstroke on the canvas of eternity.
The joke had always been on me.
She was the hidden flower of the seine
She walked her sadness through the streets
The sky was grey, the wind made her shiver
She cried for her mother, to hold her pain
Her heart was torn
All her friends had left
Alone in Paris, like an empty bottle of wine
Her desires drained, every solitary drop
If, only if, a smile would appear
She laughed, she cried, all the same
The tears hidden inside
She rode the subways to emptiness
If, only if, she could be a painting
The museum walls could hang her thoughts
And drown the grey clouds hanging above
If, only if, her heart could beat once more
If, only if, the life could give peace
And sleep would become a blanket of warmth
Float away, she dreamed,
Broken hotels and empty windows
If Maman I could hug you once more
Before the Eiffel tour fades from view
My Paris is leaving me
As I leave you
Epilogue
The Cemetery of Thoughts
There’s beauty in sadness
There is sadness that we don’t see
The lonely
Who need to see
The beauty of Paris
Kiss the lonely
And wake up broken hearts
In the brown leaves lie my valentine memory
In the sands of the dried up river my nudity
In the scent of jasmine garden your naked gravity
Who says the river flows for ever, never
What goes on until the blood flows in the vein
Sometimes slow sometimes like the torrential rain
The images die and the images are born
In the garden you love
In the stench you scorn
Umpteen unborn too
Our lonely times are the shadows
They meet the light and give rise to the photos after photos
It is another river of both grief and glamour
The river of thought sought or unsought
Untying the knots the time forced into my spine
The memories of our valentine
Like the grapevine light and shade
Resplendent in silken sunshine
The equine entwine, thine and mine, the joyous resign
To the deep designs of the sparks and fire paradigm
Our love responded to the crimson call
Then at the summit arrived the fall
It was lightening fast
The cardiac agitation
Sweat in profusion
You breathed your last
I cannot keep away from the celebration
Every year
Wrapping the gems and jewels
In the twilight envelope
With my valentine
I can feel the face and the kiss
In the bliss of gray sky in the blue sunshine
Across the avenue
Two poems are kissing each other
Their dimples shine
You were very kind
The wet air
So true
A tissue
The sky turns blue
The scented heartbeat
In the shirts
Deep down the heart
February 14, 2018
For Valentines Day - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer