Long Lossday Poems
Long Lossday Poems. Below are the most popular long Lossday by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lossday poems by poem length and keyword.
Every day my thoughts are spinning
Have I really lost or could I be winning
Not a lot has come to a change
Except life's adventure she can't arrange
So she throws out stories she believes are true
I go along telling her how great it was and something again we must do
In front of her I won't shed a tear
I'll only make sure she knows that I am here
She eats very little but full her plate we kept
There when she wakes and while she's slept
Some day she has no idea who I may be
I take care of her is all she can see
People ask how I can drop my every day routine
To those people all I say is " That is what Love really means"
Put on your big boy pants and for awhile forget about fun
Believe each moment you have could be the last one
Her pain I just can not sooth and she hurts every time I help her more.
She has been huge part of this life I am in
She was there before it even would first begin
Easier this wouldn't ever get
She slowly dieing and all I can do is sit
Tear in my eyes and falling apart
No matter what she's got a big place in my heart
I wonder if I will make this through
While second guessing all that I do
When she passes who should I blame
Do I express myself or call it God's claim
Some say I am doing nothing more then baby sitting
But the work this all takes they just aren't getting
For 3 days I've helped her as I cried
I ask God, To Take her , how could you decide
Believe this has Humbled me more then just a little bit
This is the part of life I wasn't prepared to hit
Mean , tough and heartless many times I have been Described
That whole side of me is now filled with helping and pride
As I sit back help, shed tears as to handle this all I try
But God why pick me to show " How I Lie"
On her last day who can really blame
Or do I thank God,"For taking her and ending her pain ?"
I do feel that I've done my part
That doesn't make it easier for my broken heart
There is something I really don't get
Good people die while on this earth the rotten one's still sit!
I know God does things in his very own way
but I am beginning to wonder," Does he hear me when I pray!
An Uncle Charlie Original
An Uncle Charlie Original
Form:
L.A ‘62. English professor George (Colin Firth) is mourning the loss of his gay partner. He's
spent the day reliving memories, but that night meets his student Kenny (Nicholas Hoult),
who secretly admires him, in a bar. The two end up at George’s house after a spontaneous
ocean swim. Kenny has just emerged from the shower,wrapped in a towel. George is making
a fire. When Kenny goes to get a beer, he discovers a nude photo of George’s dead lover in
a drawer. His suspicions about his teacher are confirmed. A beautiful score of stringed
music, nostalgic and tender draws me in to every nuance of Colin's performance.
George, feeling foolish and seeming a bit flushed with anticipation (yet restraining himself
from improper conduct), sits on a chair across from the young man when the boy returns to
the living room. A conversation ensues in which George asks Kenny questions, trying to
discern the young man’s reasons for being there that night. The boy, too, is trying to learn
things about George, but keeps hedging with his responses to George‘s questions, and
nothing completely “telling” is ever said. Meanwhile, their eyes linger on each other. The
young man’s eyes are an enchanting almost gleaming blue; I find it hard myself to look away
from his sweet face. My eyes are also riveted every second to George’s face and to its many
subtle changes of expression.. Finally, the boy asks George something and at that moment,
George’s face blurs. My curiosity is very aroused when suddenly the scene has switched to
George awaking at about 3 a.m. from his bed.. The young man, however, is not in the bed
(as I had hoped he would not be). He is asleep on the sofa, and he clutches in his hands the
gun which George had planned to shoot himself with. Had George revealed his plan to end
his life that day to his student? Was that what happened in those missing hours? Had the
boyish Kenny (while George was sleeping off his drunkenness) found the gun in the same
way he had discovered the picture of George’s partner and now was holding it to prevent
George from carrying out his suicide? I know I am soon going to learn George’s fate. . .
Living in an endless nightmare
Where the flowers never bloom
Where the sun doesn't shine
And the river's never flow
As life changes from day to day
And their eyes and grins are all we find
Not caring about our destiny or our fate
Why do we feel the way we do
To learn, to explore, to understand the world
Is it right to feel so blue
To feel like you have no purpose in life
To feel like you've been violated inside-out
Dreaming of far off places to where the birds fly free
And all our greatest dreams become more than real
As the blue bird shed's it's happiness
To all of us who are so blind
Yet what is happiness to those who mourn
Or those who weep over what's been done
Each so different, yet each the same
Created equal for a purpose, to love one another
The fight between life and death is hard to see
But the answer is not ours to hold
We must each find our path's in life
Where we each make mistakes that change our ways
As the rain pours down to bring new life
A single breath is but a whisper
And a shallow heartbeat that is so clear
Our minds dance, dance in the dead of night
While the monster so true gets three to five
The innocence of a young girl is so blind
Where from day in and day out she is left with life
No remorse for this lonesome dove while she flies overhead
Like the Angel she is she wishes it to end
For them to help, yet leave her alone
For them to see how hurt she feels
Like being left alone by the stump of a tree
As an Angel may spread it's wings
To reveal its masked identity
We are lost in our words from our hearts
Like the sun that shines so bright
Like the secrets of an innocent soul
All is lost in the abyss of nothingness
Where fire reins free as if like a bird
But with no feeling like the devil himself
As a lost soul may find a way to far beyond
It carries with it a message of hope, peace and love
For until next time we shall have to wait
For the secret to life, death and beyond even that.
I have come to know Jesus Christ, is the Begotten Son
I have come to know in my heart, he is the chosen one
In my life I have been, what a man should never be
It was the Lord Jesus Christ that came to set me free
I was locked up inside a cell, so deep inside of a hole
It had been years since I had thought about my soul
I have spilled so much blood, lived in so much doubt
That I had totally lost all sight, of what I was all about
Wearing the Brand of my Prison Gang, an oath taken for life
I swore that I would hold my Gang above my Lord and Wife
But then Jesus kissed my heart, and his love set me free
As he planted deep inside my mind, the seed of Poetry
I try to use my poetry, to teach others there is another way
It doesn’t matter what you’ve been, if Jesus guides your day
Through his love I was able to change my entire life
Was the thing I had to do to hold the love of my wife
So if you think I’m nice guy, then I beseech you to think again
For I have walked with the coldest stroll, through the darkest sin
I am just a simple man, at least that’s all I ever wanted to be
I am just a simple servant; the Lord Jesus Christ is using me
To this very day serious threats are made against my life
Homeboys want to remove my brand, with a red-hot knife
Because everyday I wear this brand, others can clearly see
Even from the worst of Prison Gangs, a soul can be set free
I am bound to the pits of hell, to that fact I have no doubt
One day me and those I once loved are going have it out
On that day watch the news, for you will be able to clearly see
As a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ, I will take evil men with me
It’s not often that I speak of this, and never again in life will I
But by the blood of the lamb, I am more than prepared to die
So before you ever question my faith, know these words are true
I earned every single drop of it, by the hell I have walked through
White Demon
Our hearts have allowed to be destroyed. The destruction from a demon, this
demon we allowed to flow into our lives and rule us.
When did we choose the demon over our lives, family and pride? A price has been
paid to live a normal life. One demon has left but yet its will to destroy has stayed
with the new.
This demon I have named the white demon saved your life and now is killing it as no
longer do we have control. Our children forgotten, excuses made, it is needed but at
what cost.
Each day, further destruction, the broken glass over the floor, the clothes pulled out
of draws and thrown about, furniture moved and the ornaments of our lives tossed
aside unimportant anymore to find anything little last bit of juice to keep the white
demon happy.
Quietly I clean up the destruction, a thanks or a sorry sometimes comes, but still the
head hears a word that enters the heart and comes out the hand, only one word is
heard not all, this one word allows the darkness of the demon to portray its evil and
believe the negative.
Love and understanding is there, empathy is there but these are not things the
demon want, anger, darkness and hate must prevail, no light is allowed.
The tools to allow the curtains to open are there, but how can you show your love
his tools when the demon tells him the curtains are already open. The demon wants
only what it wants and forever everything will be the blame.
Full of hope to achieve for the day and by the nightfall the hope has been replace
and nothing achieved but what the demon wants. I still see my love, inside his heart
is pure but day by day the mana is being sucked out.
The demon needs to stay and my heart wants to as well, I yearn for the demon to
move aside to allow my love to be realised and some the curtain allowed to be open.
Form:
Long Days ( for Kate )
I measured the time between breathing
I counted all the days that you were leaving
Long before you had gone
Saying goodbye without a word
Warning me in a silence I never heard
And the days are not endless
But no-one remembers
How the hours could fly
Counting every second as they passage by
Before the days grew long
And before you “never” said goodbye
Did you measure the time of a life time
Pithless and fickle in your own soul
Already seeing the days when you would not be mine
And were these words behind all your kisses
He still misses me,
Still
And the days are not countless
But days still no-one remembers
How through every hour I could try
Not to count the hours as they pass by
Before the days grew long
And before you “ever” said goodbye
I never thought in my strength I would find my weakness
Vacant spaces left so defenseless
Broken on the back of every sunrise
I look in the mirror and all I can see are your eyes
Musing and bemused on loss
And the days are not faceless
Just full of faces that no-one remembers
Even though my soul knows my heart can fly
It lays wingless and it just won’t try
To elevate the dreams passing
In these days that grew too long
Before you said goodbye
And one day you may wake up and try too hard to forget my name
Might look in the mirror and feel the same
It maybe a smile but you will wonder why
Why it is your heart can’t fly
And on that day your strength will become your weakness
And the past will become so completely nameless
Saying goodbye without a word
And leave you in a silence that you never heard
Counting all the hours that have passed us by
Before that day grows far too long
You’ll question why you ever said goodbye
The Day of the Tornadoes
By Elton Camp
April 27, 2011 is a day we’ll long recall
When natural disaster on Alabama did fall
The weather bureau warned us days before
And nobody ignores the forecasts anymore
Every family decides on the best place to go
And listens carefully to the NOAA radio
The Huntsville TV stations see storm afar
With the wonderful help of Doppler radar
The outbreak began at three in the morning
A few hours later than the original warning
As the frightening day continued to progress
We saw that we were in for a terrible mess
The dire announcements came at a fast clip
As across the state many tornadoes did skip
By later afternoon, desperation had set in
The authorities hardly knew where to begin
The meteorologists all did seriously allow
Get into your safe place and please do it now
And because of the excellent job that they do
Deaths from tornadoes recently have been few
But in some cases, in order to still be around
It was essential that people go underground
Without such protection it’s hard to stay alive
When one is hit by a tornado rated F-4 or F-5
Shelters like that are rarely needed so are few
People had make out with what they could do
The tornadoes struck with a roar and a grind
And of houses only rubble was then left behind
It was something we saw over thirty years before
Once again, there were injuries and deaths galore
Then the ferocious winds had no mind to decide
Good, bad, old, strong, young—all of them died
That day that from survivors’ memory won’t fade
Also how people gave to each other needed aid
The area will recover, though it seems it can’t be
Due to the devastation from nature’s killing spree
She waits, and Oh so patiently!
every day she looks, ("Oh, might I gloat?")
for sight of that one trawler, 'The Forever,'
cresting waves, he, wildly cursing,
all the while he's still afloat,
and every day she moans, "Oh, may he never..."
Nails bitten to the quick,
worrying her apron string
or some small piece of fabric;
she's constantly in hope the weather's kind,
carelessly cleaning candlesticks, she fiddles
with her wedding ring to occupy her mind.
The ocean seethed, and then it settled,
roared once more, its fury unrestrain'd.
The sea and Mary sharing mixed emotions,
would he wave, or would he wander?
chain'd in brute defiance, shamed if all his catch
were empty hull and broken promises.
A prideful man was he, and never satisfied
'til he had stretched his nets to overflowing.
As much tied to Neptune's rhythms as her rhyme,
and sometimes even more so,
he'd struggle 'gainst all odds before he'd quit,
but it was time;
time to raise the sails, admit he's bested,
and plot a course for Mary, fair and frail,
but cruel weather proved his blind undoing,
his compass broke, he couldn't see for hail,
his boat a mass of many splinter'd pieces,
he tried to make it home, to no avail.
Mary saw the wreck upended on the shoreline,
and saw the name 'Forever' on its side,
"wait," she cried, "I will not live without you,
forever in your arms I must abide!"
She cast herself from off the highest landing
and was borne off with the ebbing of the tide.
Coming close to loosing it all,
except a few clothes, an old coat and a ball.
He plods to the Mission with a rare conditon
of which he can no longer recall.
Found buried in this sad stories text.
Why so solemn, beat down and depressed?
Too many bad drugs? Hanging out with some thugs?
or just broken, hurt and rejected?
Sitting in the rear of the Chappel.
From his coat pocket comes a ruby red apple.
Althought its a chore he eats down to the core.
How he arrived there he's truly baffled.
He one day found himself alone.
When his family and friends all had gone.
He pushed them away, a regret to this day.
Now nowhere has he to call home.
The preacher comes in all in smiles.
A sermon about mans pre-ordained trials.
Being somewhat amused, more often confused.
He stares down at the colored floor tiles.
Meandering day after day.
His ambitions and dreams fade away.
Pondering maybe a drink could help me think
and then perhaps I'll be okay.
A hand comes down on his shoulder.
The Chapell's now empty, the sermon is over.
It is now time to eat and then off to sleep,
hoping it doesn't get any colder.
Inhaling a breath of fresh air;
swaying the line between hope and despair.
he made a decision, went to the Mission,
praying someone may possibly care.
Snuggled in bunk number seven.
A sleepless yearning to no longer remember.
As he rolls to his side once more he cries.
Wishing soon he will journey to Heaven.
the Oak Tree
You were always someone special
In the midnight hours in my dream
I could really feel the tension
A tree, a limb, a friend
No matter how hard life came at me
There you stood perfectly
Letting me lean up against your stand
I will never forget the day you swayed the first hi
I talked as if you were hearing
A tree, a piece of wood in my path
A punching bag
My Oak Tree you will always be
One day in my sorrowed life
I stopped by just to reminisce
Your beauty, I find so divine
Your leaves took me backwards
I fell in love with your soul all over again
With a beauty, I find so divine
Hope you will always be there my friend
Indulging the felling you transcend
A cold spot never found in you
Re-breathing your surround, no need to make a sound
The power you have when you make my heart mend
My Oak Tree you will always be my friend
In the lowest day of my life
I went on a secret walk to look for comfort
The beauty of you is no longer there
Walking around with an extra deep pain of hurt
Not sure how one could bare such a loss
Dropping myself to my Knees upon the dirt
An empty spot is the only thing there
My friend I thought you would always be there
How can they take you away from this world?
A lonely field
No root, no seed
Loneliness no one to lean up against
You will no longer be there
How could they cut down, my friend?
My friend the Oak Tree.
Where are your seeds?
By;PD