Long Lost friends Poems
Long Lost friends Poems. Below are the most popular long Lost friends by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lost friends poems by poem length and keyword.
Silence.
For over thirty years he longed for a night free from the snoring that her sinuses caused.
Foolishly, he thought he could sleep much better if the grating sound did not echo in his ears.
Now he lies restlessly, unable to sleep in the silence.
Darkness.
The pillow he often placed over his head to muffle the sounds coming from the other side of
the bed,
Also helped shield his eyes from the glow emitted from the nightlight she could not sleep
without.
Now he lies anxiously in the darkness with the unplugged light laying harmlessly on her bed
stand.
Unencumbered.
His uncontrollable habit of wiggling his foot at night, which helped him fall asleep,
He consciously had been suppressing because the motion bothered her rest.
Now, free to wiggle in the empty bed, he lied motionless, too tired to move.
How he longed to hear the snoring he once thought he detested.
How he wished he could gaze upon the outline of her sleeping body in the shadows cast by
the nightlight.
How he desired to feel her elbow poke him in the side to still his gyrating foot.
The silence; the darkness; the freedom to move;
What he once considered long lost friends were now his enemies.
The sleep lost due to the sounds, the light and the restrictions on movement were a small
price to pay for having her by his side.
Now that he is free to sleep in peace – he cannot.
He misses her too much and the pain in his heart will prevent a restful sleep for a long time
to come.
Dear poets of the soup, how are you this beautiful day
I hope you all are well and continue to stay that way
Believers of science, some of you are not
I’m sorry if you live in fear, of a vaccination shot
I’ve lost friends and family, I’m sure that you have as well
I hope you believe the facts, not social media’s show and tell
We are not a communist nation, nor will we ever be
Our government can’t force a needle, in the arm of you or me
We need to all move forward, don’t shed another tear
Life is very short, don’t waste it living in fear
As far back as I can remember, folks have feared the end of days
If the end truly causes you fear, then maybe you need to change your ways
I respect everyone’s opinion, I’m glad that you’ve found your voice
But my opinion also matters, so please respect my choice
We all must move on, no matter what we have lost!
Including close friends who have gone astray.
Just wish them well,and be on your melodious, spectral way.
Sure, you thought your mutual fun would never end.
Like two brotherly trees, one is alive, but now, the other is
to you....completely dead.
You miss the emails and closeness you once shared.
But they no longer read or contact you.
You are the living tree, and they. dead, of the past.
I can see your tears, and hear your thoughts of sapphire days
that now echo in your past.
The world is filled with trillions, so no need to be aghast!
God runs the world, not them!
Bless Him do, for the old friends and the new, who will sail
With you, with joy, under true friendship’s mast!
There is always good news in our wide universe!
God sends you a finer replacement, that’s the nature of things!
Another human, just like you, who values the tenderness of all
delicate heart strings!
3~5~2022
When December hit on that one beautiful Sunday it snowed.
Children were quite perplexed , adults too seemed excited.
It was the day marked in the calendar right next to me:
7th December 1871.
Earth is having a natural reset it seems says an old gentleman,
But I'm not a big fan of these snow old man, says a kid slowly,
But you'll have to bear it kid this is just the start.
Everyone in the old town looked happy.
It was the first snowfall there in ages,
But the kid is not impressed.
The old town in Czech looked something straight out of a fairytale
Too unreal to believe.
So cool and beautiful that even the kid started smiling again.
He smiled again after all the pain that this town went through.
He lost his family
Lost his little sister that wanted to draw better than her brother,
Lost his father who always carried him on his back,
Lost the mother who was his everything.
It has been six months after that bomb
Six months and so much changed.
All the children are now looking up
Everyone is safe,
Everyone is eating good.
The good old memories of past doesn't matter
If they can make a better future.
This old body of mine can't give them all the happiness alone.
The old gentleman is now too old.
The winter evening, the snows and the snowman
Kids enjoying their first winter.
Enjoying life for the very first time.
Soon they all will grow up
Grow up to become someone who knows how to protect others and stay protected from others.
And when you die , die alone.
And I, that kid, grew up to look again at the town and release that this was happiness!
I don't really remember other
Except the old man.
Me sitting at my window looking at the present calendar,
Marked date : 7th December 1913.
It's been 42 years I'm now 50 but the war is not over.
I guess there won't be anything left here tomorrow when the war will be all over.
And hence for the very last time I turn my back to this place
Remembering my lost friends and family and the old man.
And continued my March alone in the winter evening.
I will die as a soldier, I'll die as a fighter , I'll die somewhere quiet just like the old man said.
Hostile Takeover
Written by: D. Collins 10/3/14
Way, back when, nobody saw the big plan.
Redistribute the vote all across the land.
Putting judges in place to enforce their will.
Carrying guns in case they have to kill.
Its been a hostile takeover of basic rights.
And, abortion decisions are taken overnight.
They chose this route because they cannot win.
No clue of the devil buried deep within.
NSA spying came from Bush’s regime.
Once it was exposed, it became Obama’s thing.
Obama got caught holding the bag.
America lost friends it once had.
A hostile takeover is what we’re currently in.
From the right to vote to the prison system.
A coup d'état is right before our eyes.
An ideology affecting so many lives.
Dementia genes may lurk inside
But since there is no cure,
I wonder what’s the benefit
Of finding out for sure.
Would knowing change the way you live
And spur some foreign travel?
Or would it plunge you to the depths
Where fear makes minds unravel?
Perhaps you’d contact long-lost friends
To help provide support;
Or take up brand-new hobbies
So that pesky plaque you’d thwart.
Quite possibly, you’d join a club
For Alzheimer potentials;
Or start a journal or a blog
Confirming your credentials.
If something’s hiding in my brain
Prepared to drag me low,
My overwhelming wish for now
Is I don’t want to know.
The residents slowly amble
toward the buffet,
some using canes or walkers,
a few sitting on scooters,
others standing,
schmoozing, joking, laughing.
Dinner is the social hour
in senior living food
a common subject
conversation not momentous
who won at cards family
medications the weather
A murmur and peaceful
burble of many voices until
suddenly a high-pitched wail
an ambulance yellow lights aflash
rounds the corner and
stops.
Blue jackets rolling bed
medical kits EMTs quick-step
toward the elevator
return someone is lying flat
people crane their necks
which friend had this bad luck?
Did someone fall again?
have a heart attack?
but maybe
it’s nothing serious
they’ll be back tomorrow
(thinking it could be me)
In senior living
people go to the hospital
stay a while come back
or not
friends leave for assisted living
become forgetful
move to memory care.
We live with the impermanence
of the permanence of our reality
we grieve for lost friends,
but we keep on loving caring
living every day to the fullest
because we all travel the same road.
The Yearbook
The years have since gone by—
aged seniors now are we.
I scan each page to see
lost friends with teary eye;
then note, with relieved sigh,
some are still here with me.
Our yearbook is online—
my high school friends all there.
But posted clear to share,
a list beneath a sign
of those who crossed the line
and climbed our Heaven's stair.
Salutes to each dear friend—
here—joy and sorrow blend.
Sandra M. Haight
~3rd Place~
Contest: HexSonnetta
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Judged: 09/19/2015
~6th Place~
Premiere Contest: Contest 204
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 09/17/2016
Form: HexSonnetta
I have lost friends, some by death,
others through sheer inability to cross the street,
and now, in starless nights,
when shadows embrace dreams and hopes remain suspended on the edge of an abyss of memories,
I remember their gazes, the laughter that dissolved into the air,
like eternal ghosts in an endless dance,
for every step on the deserted streets of my thoughts hides an echo of a lost voice,
a reverberation of unfulfilled desires, and in their words,
like butterflies of light, I get lost,
striking against the dark walls of my mind,
losing themselves in a symphony of silences.
Oh, how easy it is to get lost in the labyrinth of life,
to remain a prisoner of one's own impotence,
to not see the passage of time,
to not feel the whisper of the wind that brings change,
and yet, sometimes, even the edge of the road becomes an unfathomable chasm,
an invisible line that separates us from ourselves,
a gulf between "here" and "beyond",
and the street is a river, a river of existence that flows unceasingly,
separating us not only from others but also from ourselves,
under my steps, the asphalt is a canvas where the traces of ephemeral passings are painted,
a mosaic of lost moments.
The alleys of the city become the paths of my soul,
where every corner hides a story,
where each streetlamp is a fallen star,
shining only to fade,
and yet, in this bittersweet melancholy,
I find a strange beauty, a magic of loss,
where every goodbye is a new beginning,
where every end is a gateway to another world,
and in the depths of my soul,
the lost friends live beyond time,
beyond space, in a garden of eternity where the flowers of memories never wither.
I remain on the edge of this street, contemplating the infinite,
seeking my place in an incomprehensible universe,
where every step forward is a step back,
where every glance back is a window to the future,
and in this profound silence, I feel my soul rising,
crossing unseen streets, reaching lost friends,
in an eternal embrace of memories and dreams.
Memories dance across our minds
Day to day memories surround
Stand and look at scenery that astounds
Jolting us into times gone by.
Family, closely followed by places you visit
Always with our forever friend.
Other memories jump the queue
Land of your birth waits to welcome you.
Returning for a visit long overdue
Journey, long and arduous.
Arrival, brings a smile to our faces
Bridge in view, brings homesick feelings.
Onward, onward, signs point the way
Arrival at birthplace, causes laughter
Families, friends, all waiting eagerly
Visits, mealtimes all sorted early.
Where to start, planning is a pleasure
Visit haunts that were treasures.
Breathe the air, so joyful to be here
Now, time to start that fateful journey.
Where you started childhood
Does the home still exist?
Always a welcome on your return
Other visits, lots of sadness.
Stand there looking at concrete and brick ruins
Memory banks start a slide show.
You just sit back as memories wash over you
Voices, laughter, fills the void.
Faces appear clear as day
If only you could touch and have your say.
Time to turn and walk away
Sadness presses itself upon you.
Bump into long lost friends, hugs, and kisses
Hold on tight to your forever friend.
Leaving this place, your heart it aches
Back to where your future called.
Another bridge, clearly seen from the air
Your other Country wants to welcome you.