Long Long life Poems

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


Premium Member Trailblazer

I was a classic 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air, in mint condition, admiral and white.
My owner had other beautiful, classic cars, like stars sparkling into twilight.

My owner loved his old cars, saying 'they don't make them like they used to;'
And I enjoyed getting out upon the open road, to show him what I could do.

My fellow cars and I saw lots of sunny days, in bliss freedom of the flowers,
Traveling the length and breadth of this land, in the clasp of jeweled hours.

Flighty friends and I recalled 'good old days,' in rosy sunset times of finally, 
Laughing and talking our memories in darkness, as moon shone, indefinably.

Forever friends were like feeling family, in the floral days of fuchsia's reign;
When flitting, green butterflies fanned for long, and falcons flew like a train.

I lived in the house of pleasant shadows, which didn't have many windows;
For it was one huge room without a view, like a path without the primrose.

Sparkling summer sauntered in silently, creating such scenes on my street!
Silken clouds roamed, when Sam ran his errands. Traveling was ever a treat.

Neighbors made admiring noises about me, going off on rides in neon night.
We cars were the toast of the neighborhood, nice nostalgia, in a golden light!

Clown orchids had ceased performing, in gone days of purple, beard orchids.
Now their summer relative had the holy ghost, like bliss from many sources.

Mask flowers held beautiful mystery, in alluring hues of pink, cream and red;
Like sweet secrets of moonlit shadows, and violet dreams after going to bed.

Once, Sam and I were cruising Sunset Highway, for it was my turn that day;
While dear friends waited in the cool, quiet of home, for their chance to play.

I felt a sudden impact on my left, and I knew I was hurt! There was damage;
But if not for Sam's expert driving, we might not have been able to manage!

This had happened to me times before. Such is to be expected in a long life.
As ever, friend Sam was my Superman, my mechanic in times of cruel strife.

My convalescence didn't seem so long, as I laughed about old days with pals.
When streets were not very busy, and many listened to front porch musicales.

For we were darling, daring trailblazers, quaint old paving way for all modern,
Leaving lingering feelings of fond nostalgia, like lovely fall leaves which yearn!
Form: Couplet


She's the Type of Girl

She’s the type of girl who will make you hold your breath ‘till your head explodes

She’s the type of girl who will never pick up on her cellular telephone

I saw her Wednesday watched her walk by
I call her Thursday to no reply
Then I tried on Friday would you be mine
I got no response I’m done wasting time

This chick thinks I’m stupid she must be crazy
Every part of her body is amazing
My jaw gets weak and my mouth goes lazy
I’m done trying to reach her is this hasty

Then On Monday to my surprise
She called me back and she replied
You think you’re so smart so realize
To be my man there’s compromise

So let’s get together and if you make the right impression
I will show you what love is and teach you a new dimension
So grab your note book make room for a life lesson
I’m a tender lover who needs all of your affection

She’s the type of girl who will make you hold your breath ‘till your head explodes

She’s the type of girl who will never pick up on her cellular telephone

Listen to me because I’m willing to be
The best thing you’ve ever received
So try to conceive try to believe
Every thing I say is every thing I mean

You think you’re so bad you think that you’re queen
When all you do is sit there your attitude screams
You need attention that’s why you called me
I’m not that foolish these eyes they truly see

I think you’re obnoxious oh so irritating
Your soul is toxic as well as degrading
So talk your garbage your looks they are fading
To hold my heart hostage is complicated

Like you said lets get together I hope you bring a personality
Welcome to my reality all in all you are a fallacy
A true walking beauty a beast undoubtedly
Not just a plastic princess lacking individuality

She’s the type of girl who will make you hold your breath ‘till your head explodes

She’s the type of girl who will never pick up on her cellular telephone

I don’t need this I hope that you know I mean it
I would get between it but I would never eat it
You are misleading your outward features fleeting
That is why I am fleeing because you are being
A bitter little chick that gets every thing she’s needing
Unfortunately I’m conceding this conversations bleeding
Me dry that’s why this here guy is saying goodbye

So, so long I wish you all the best long life and all the rest.

****!!!…(expletive)

I’m just playing lets do this again some time.

On Memories, the Soul and Gentle Breezes

She has seen so much before Her eyes 
they have lost their sparkle 
She sits in Her chair to watch the hummingbirds 
flit and sip at the bird feeders She has prepared 
She has made those for years 

i remember sitting with Her and talking 
about boys and schoolwork 
and how beautiful the hummingbirds 
sounded as they zipped past the screen door 
we know they will return 

Her taste for pecans never 
prevented Her from collecting them 
off Her land for pies and candies 
Her legs hurt from walking too long 
how i miss picking pecans with Her 

as i grew time was lost 
and i visited Her less and less 
with regret i think of 
all the talks and fun and laughter 
while we canned fruits and jellies together 

i wish i could bring back those years 

the summer before i was married 
we talked of love and happiness 
and i was privileged to know how 
Pa and Ma met when she asked, 
"Do You Believe In Love At First Sight?" 

we stayed up 'til morning talk of 
mike and how She believed he was an 
angel and how She met her first husband 
and the birth of mimi, i know She has 
always love me 
i am Her pride and joy 

She has lived a long life that was hard 
but worth it because She has produced 
a wonderful family 
that babies Her in Her old age 
oh, how She hates that 

She talks about Her last days as if 
tomorrow Her soul will take flight 
and wonders why God hasn't sent for Her yet 
perhaps She is not done 
or He wishes Her to see something precious 

i wonder if it is for me (how narcissistic) 
to see my wedding or the birth of the daughter 
that will carry Her middle name 
She cried when i told Her that 
but that's how much She means to me 

i vainly pray that She will live long enough 
to see these things that are important to me 
when She will be able to hold 
with Her middle name 
Her great-great-granddaughter, LEE ellen 

now She sits in her rocking chair 

watching the hummingbirds 
Her soul takes flight upon a gentle 
breeze that carried Her far away in time 
when She could pick pecans and can jellies 
when She and Pa met 

or when Her children were born 
i know many stories from Her past 
and i am proud that i am the only one 
that has taken the flight with her soul 
on one of those gentle breezes
© Skye Tandy  Create an image from this poem.

Life To Live Part 1

I used to think that life was a joke.
When I was 9 I started to smoke.
When I was 11 I began to drink.
But as I got older I began to think
I started thinking about what I wanted to do and what I had to give.
But then I realized I had a long life to live.
At age 13 I started to fight for no good reason.
Thanks to my dad and my anger,
I got kicked out of school for the rest of the season.
Not long after, my mom and my dad were separated,
By this time, my anger had very well escalated.
I was baker-acted for making threats in 1999.
Threatening take everyone’s life, including mine.
I hated it! I hated my life in every way.
I always stayed in the house.
I never wanted to play.
After being home schooled for two years,
It was time to go to High School my dear.
My mother appraised me, she said I would to fine.
Oops! My Bad. I got suspended 22 times.
I got baker acted again and I caught a charge.
A charge that landed me straight behind bars.
I was on probation and violated constantly.
For once the only thing I wanted was to be free.
At age 15 I was in a program locked in a cell.
Oh boy! How fun! I had my 16th Birthday in jail.
It took 11 months and 11 days to get my act straight and learn better ways.
January 16,2004 I was free once again,
To be locked up no more.
3 days after I was 17 and free from being locked down,
My mother tells me I’m off probation now. 
Now that I’ve told you what I’ve been through,
Its time for me to tell you about what I plan to do.
This is what I plan to do with my life.
To make good decisions and to do what’s right.
I plan to continue to go to school.
No more days of trying to play cool.
I am who I am not to pretend.
The way I think of it, in my life I need no fake friends.
People think I’m crazy for my plan to succeed.
Its my choice if I want to be a part of the city police.
I want to major in Criminal Justice to become a lawyer or be apart of the law.
I have came a very long way and have left so many people in awe.
People think of me as a misbehaved, disturbed little child.
But look at how far I made it. Even though it took a while.
When I was younger, I was wild.
But to all who doubted me, I hope I made you proud.
See the effort that I chose to give.
And all this was to earn a better life to live.
Form: Bio

The Traditional Story

In my little village, Nkporo,
We celebrate the Iza Afa Festival
And the Most Magnificent Igboto Nma Festival.
The two are more than four hundred years old,
Our forebears told us that it began with
Their ancestors who immigrated from Heaven
When Chukwu was sharing the earth to broken Humans.
They got their teethless share of the earth and
There the magical festival began to grow teeth.
It is celebrated in the Eight Villages of Nkporo
But, not at the same time nor the same earthless year;
On that day of the treasured celebration, everyone is a nobody and somebody,
The wind would howls in sweet poetry, 
the trees would dance back and forth in a blissful form,
And the papers and leaves go up in merriment.
Then the open windows shut with a clapping hands
Welcoming the house roofs which rattles with songs.
The most dreaded guilty masquarades come out,
Helter skelter, the lost children run here and there;
As their homes skip and elude them in the square.
The Villagers feel nothing but the joy of excitment in the air,
As the dusty sand fill the tensed atmosphere.
The houses clear and the streets is filled with people.
Then, the men and women of the festival comes out
All glowing and shining like the sun in their ragalias.
A bright flash takes the entire village,
The whistler whistles by in an unknown tone,
The Igboto Nma people are excited and joyful too
Because they would soon stop the payment of taxes
And levies among their age Grades.
Their responsibilities in the village ceased as they drop the heavy knife on the village square.
But the new responsibilities now lies on
The shoulders of the Iza Afa age Grade
Who are now being initiated into a new phase of Life.
The Igboto Nma clans leave a legacy to be remembered for in the innocent virgin community.
The sky in joy makes night of the day, 
A noise that deafened comes from all the corners of the land,
Then the Eze Aja blesses them all and pray for long life and prosperit.
The rain makers keep the rain far off,
The fortune teller and the diviner dances all
Through the day and night,
At the end of their rituals at the village square,
They all goes to their tents and celebrate till dusk.
Food and drinks are abundant till the next day,
It always a day to reckon with in Nkporoland.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member My How Time Flies

Since the elders often proclaim, my how time flies, 
You then naturally look up into the skies.
To study the heavens for at least one small sign,
From the horizon up to the tallest tree line.

Then suddenly, a flock of birds flitters about,
So you believe that you might have time figured out.
But when the old people mentioned, my how time flies,
They didn’t bring up birds; so is time in disguise?

As a carnival balloon, yes that’s it, you say,
Like the vanishing kind on a bright summer day.
But losing your own, is one of life’s biggest fears,
Since you don’t want to waste any time crying tears.

It’s possible that time is commuting by plane,
Which is surely the fastest speed time could attain.
But what good can that be when the planes out of sight,
Unless it quickly returns from its roundtrip flight?
 
Then is waiting around to see time such a waste,
When each day there are many affairs to be faced?
Then out of the blue a helicopter is seen,
And you reflect, maybe time is on that machine.

But as soon as a copter is here it’s gone by,
After noisily chopping the beautiful sky.
Although it’s very unlikely time takes that ride,
Unless it cannot hear, or ear plugs are supplied.

Wait a minute, I got it, time surfs over clouds;
If I could do the same all my friends would be proud.
And occasionally time would appear as rain,
But then an excess amount would go down the drain.

Then could time be a portion of air all the time,
To be breathed in, or to give life to a wind chime?
Though, is that really flying like old people claim?
It seems all my guesses are exactly the same.

Well, after a long life of thinking and trying,
To figure out the ways that time could be flying,
In heaven, by feather, or motor, as vapor,
Yet, not one of those ways can be proved on paper.

Until recently, when I looked in the past,
The answers were there for those time questions asked.
That time really flies, though it takes time to see,
That a lifetime of living, is the real key.

And now I tell the young, that time truly flies,
But don’t bother looking up into the skies.
Time earns its wings every day, inside the mind,
And can only be seen, when looking behind!

David Fisher for Impress Me-Iambic Meter Contest
Philosophical motif

Heart gentle, eyes mindful

I've always showered 
care on ungrateful trees, 
the ones that bloomed 
and the ones that withered. 
I watered them anyway. 
In this chaotic world, 
compassion is made slavery, 
chained with entitlement 
and false lovebites, 
yet my tender heart 
endures through the raid 
and self-inflicted questions 
of why I have to succumb
to an endless tide. 

Sometimes in regret of why 
goodness chose me as its heir, 
I flip out, leaving the throne empty. 
Though I wage wars not to be 
kind anymore, I find myself retreating. 
In the end, it is nature's course for me. 

But should I drown in empathy 
that l lose my mind? My use or
willingness to set boundaries 
and say No when the shoes 
don't fit my legs? For I have 
been in the watch house
without looking. It took me 
courage and self-awareness
to glare beyond the boiling surface. 

I washed my eyes in 
discernment and worth, 
to dive past the silent suck. 
I befriended clarity and in her depth, 
I learnt to work with both minds. 
For kindness doesn't exist to
drain me but help me find my path. 

So I dished portions of bitter
sour soups to users and 
drummers without rhythm, 
Just to test their intent
and they smiled at its 
sweetness. 

They would forge a life in 
death just to drain the 
remaining water in my 
well. I let them go in 
thirst because there's barely
a drop left for me and my heart 
has now tested the rough edges 
of the valleys and the shape 
of my eyes have been born anew. 
So conscious, it wouldn't flinch 
if dust was thrown in it. 

And the lovers that used to ride 
on my patchless boat, they have 
now drowned, since the engines only 
worked in the purity of their needs.
It is not I that led them to 
destruction, It is their greed. 

I offered them bandages still, 
I showed them the path, 
I directed them through the journey, 
I didn't go with them else they would 
make me lose my way and distract 
me from the gold mine in front.

My peace has never been this full. 
Full of happiness and Bluebells. 
I am a Watchman that sees 
through the dark forest and 
I shall live a long life setting 
those standards.

Still an heir to the throne
now I sit with an eagle eye.
My soul in good deeds 
will never be used again.

From the Ashes of Winter Comes the Beauty of Spring

From the ashes of winter
Comes the beauty of spring
After the cold
Warmth, sunshine does bring

Winters crumpled leaves are like ashes
Lying on the ground
Eventually new plant life appears
And springs greenery abounds

Life also changes
Just as the seasons do
Cycles of life
Mama and Daddy went through

They each had a long life
Full of moments good and bad
Sometimes they were happy
Sometimes they were sad

At different times in their life
They each accepted Christ's loving call
At death they would see Heaven
Because Jesus gave His all

As they accepted the gift of salvation
Their hearts joyfully soared
Knowing an eternity in Heaven
Would one day, be their reward

For Mama sickness was like winter
Cold and dark
But she knew on a joyful journey
She soon would embark

For Daddy sickness was like winter
Dark and cold
But he knew Heavenly wonders
He soon would behold

Much pain and suffering
They each endured
But by the blood of Jesus
Their souls were insured

As their lives each drew closer
And closer to an end
We all knew soon, life's last breath
They would expend

When to a life of sickness
They could no longer cling
I imagine they heard the flutter
Of sweet angel wings

They each knew death to them
Sickness would bring
But they did not fear the pain
Of death's lonely cold sting

For they each were saved
By God's wonderful grace
They would meet death
Wrapped in God's loving embrace

As the death angel
Took them, each gently away
They entered the land
Of bright eternal day

As they entered eternal happiness
Their souls began to sing
They were now in the presence
Of Jesus the Heavenly King

Their cycle of life
Was now complete
They were now a part
Of Heaven's elite

Death had taken them
To beautiful Heaven above
They would be forever ensconced
In God's pure love

Meeting Jesus in Heaven
Their hearts leapt
Angels led the way
As they each stepped

Through the scattered ashes of winter
That sickness did bring
Into the majestic beauty
Of Heaven's glorious eternal spring

This poem was included in Echoes of the Soul Christian Poetry book one of the Heart and Soul Christian Poetry Collection by Esselle Davis (pen name I use)
© Sl Davis  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Conversation

On entering the afterlife, to be met by my father.
(Hopefully a long way off)

  > Hello Dad, it has been many a year

   You're looking well, since I looked at you last

   Good job, you won't believe how much I'm scarred,
     can't say the past few years have not been hard.
     The burdens that I was prepared to take,
     the sacrifices I have had to make.

   I shan't deny you had it really rough,
     but from my point of view it was quite tough,
     child number three within your clutch of four
     way down the pecking order, that's for sure.
     Your last son was priority number one............
      
   Such love you speak of never manifest
     I felt alone, adrift, unlike the rest.
     A fishing trip together, when I was small
     the only day we had I can recall.

  < I worked, but it took my good health at length
     an industry that sapped my breath and strength
     by fifty, there was no more I could do
     the body of a man aged ninety-two.
     If  like some of your friends, you'd had it all
     been mollycoddled , pampered, treated, spoiled
     by adulthood it would have been too late
     for you to come and step up to the plate.
     The inner strength you have to go so far
     is from your past, defining who you are.
    I'm proud you somehow managed to get by,
    now, come here, son- and let me dry your eye.


 For contest 'A conversation', sponsor Frank Herrera
 31st August 2016
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Caught In the Middle

The best of us don't make sense
And it's hard to show all the corners of us
But there is no one to blame but our nature
When what's inside we are supposed to nurture

And it's a case of good vs bad
For some, evil vs the taste of the devil
For that fool likes it more than sour
He make a minute of fear feel like an hour

The best of us see what many others don't
The best of us go through things we can't explain
And the best way to handle what others consider “crazy”
Is to just stay sane. So damn sane. 

He may seem so strong, she may seem so soft
Yet it's the talkers just trying to find themselves…
Through words
Yet it's the weak ones who choose to cave in early…
As if suicide doesnt take strength. 

And no matter what we go through
Some part of us always stays the same
Some part of us just wants to lay down and rest
While the world wants to continue on with its game

And you don't have to tell a soul
How you really feel about anything
And you don't have to let anyone help you
Even God waits for you to ask
Its called free will, and in it you should bask

And you can change all you want
But you can't replace your womb-given soul
Us women, we literally grow a soul in our core
Only a fool afterwards would strive to do more

And i get sick of being here
Yet i know i have been put someplace safe
Still…yet still…while my heart can calm down between these walls
Something else in my mind just continues, to me, call

And i try to listen
It's just so distant
And don't know how to meet it halfway
For some reason, it also wants me to stay

Whatever or whoever it is
They have all the patience of the worlds entire existence
To let me be still and caught in the middle
They let me feel completely excused
From a place where i was probably abused
They led me to “here”, where I can be left alone
Yet i fear, i deeply miss them…right to the bone

Even though it's like a distant dream
For it i just want to scream
So i just lay here, close my eyes
And keep it in my dream…

That’ll have to do
Since you won't let me come to you
Giving me a long life
In exchange for what, i don't know
But thats whats protecting me
The mystery
In some way…this is all for me
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter