Long Loveold Poems
Long Loveold Poems. Below are the most popular long Loveold by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Loveold poems by poem length and keyword.
Loves forked road
No longer side by side are we
When we drifted apart neither could see.
But here we stand so far apart
Hoping and wishing for a better start.
Our love we say, still exists deep within
Yet our treatment of each other feels like sin.
Unable to talk, so quickly anger arouse
Feelings are hurt, deep infliction housed.
Remedy we know, we must quick find
Both searching desperately within our minds.
For in one condition we have firmly agree
To continue this way and end must to see.
Yet down this road ,now the the fork we reach
One leads to a new future, the other we must cease.
The ending road neither wish to travel yet
For memories of our love we still hope to get.
The other road an agreement we hope to make
Together side by side, hand in hand to take.
But in our contract these values must follow
To love, honor, respect and in friendship to go.
For these old standing patterns of agreement
Must be replaced with new, the old is sent
Sent to the past forever to lie,
Buried deep away like a funeral must die.
In dedication to our future reunited love
In support and respect to each other made of.
So our hurts and betrayal must be put to rest
And with this new beginning extent of our love test.
For what brought us together most powerful strong
I pray each day no error we made for wrong.
Fall in love again impossible, some may say
But let us try this with every passing day…
No more cruel words ,no distance of soul
All things written above, these shall be our goal.
Inspiration has found me, with a new beginning
That promise I make to you …our love …no more sinning
The trees bend now, nearly touch each other
As they lean with age, over the roadway.
He glances up as he lifts the basket,
Every movement carefully taken;
There is no ease, no comfort in this rest.
Their trip passed in silence, landmarks avoided,
Unremarked upon, unnoticed perhaps;
A drive to the shore in their old sedan.
This trip so cautiously planned, to a place
Once so beloved by both, now lies
Filled with trepidation; and resentment.
They sit together at the worn table
Scarred by lovers and children and nature.
Still silent, they pass each other small bits;
Food wrapped in hope, or in desperation,
Or simply tied in old resignation.
The trees seem to mock them, swaying above
In a unison made perfect with time;
Bound together with intertwined branches,
Held together with interlocking stems;
Old upright soldiers, standing side by side
Ravaged by time, by seasons, by nature
And still they stand, bearing witness to these
Lonely, sad lovers, huddled in themselves.
He looks up again. Then checking his watch
Says we should go. It’s really time to go.
Her silence broken also, she answers,
I’m leaving you. Then falls silent once more.
I know, he says. I’ve known for some time now.
Once more he looks up at the trees. Then again
Says we should go. It’s really time to go.
They carefully pack the remains of lunch.
He looks up a final time at the trees
And moves as though to salute. Then he laughs
As if at a joke and turns back toward
The old sedan, canopied beneath leaves;
Silent, shaded witness to love’s demise.
what i want is when we first led eyes
on each other
it was love at first sight
i knew in my heart he was the one for me
i want that thing call love, honesty , trust
that thing you can't never ever let go
no matter what you do or what you go thorough
you still have each other
the sex might get old but your love doesn't
i want that thing call i got my man
so you find yours
i want to feel secure without being insecure
about the things that might occur
i want that thing call love that don't cost a
thing as long as i got u
people can be killing each other
you look at each other and say i
luv you
it's me and u against the world
i want to cry for no reason
without having a reason to cry
i want that old thing
when we kiss it meant something
i want that thing of passion
i want to get old and be able to remisience with my
kids discuss the good times and the bad times
want that thing to be real & true
something that you will never let go
i want my life to be a reality not a fairy tail
or just a fantasy
i want that old thing back
happiness without the sadness of hopeliness
i want to become well done inside instead of
being raw
i want that full throttle definition of love without
the script
i want that old school love with
Al Green
love make you do wrong
i want that love & happiness thing
that romance along with the finance of
course i want that
Form:
The day and nights go by and seem a blur,
We all get down and under the weather.
Just knowing someone is their somehow makes it better.
Being alone and on your own ,we long for the days of old.
Those younger years have dissapeared and been replaced by fear.
Fear of being alone ,bitter and cold.
I thought I had found the one I could hold an show love.
but was not to be for he left me standing in the shadows of confusion.
No reason was told and my heart was and is still broken.
For I now know those three words will never be spoken.
Lost and confused what shall I do fore I have lost you.
never told you that I loved you.
Battered and bruised by the years of abuse ,there was no excuse.
So I turned to you hoping to find shelter in those strong arms.
Fell for you charm and warmth.
All I ever wanted to hear was I want and need you dear!
The abuse was in my past,yet never eally got the chance to know if we would last.
Here I sit with no one to hold and show me how it feels to really know the comforts of love
Never know passions of a relationship meant to last
where two become one soul ,being able to grow old with that special someone.
You are out there ,when you read this you will know .
Hopefully return one day,before I am old and pass away.
By Michelle Davis Jackson
.
Form:
From sun up till dark, day after day,
Hard and tiring work, but it was honest pay.
Worked like a dog scratching out a living,
On this old rundown farm where life can be cruel and always unforgiving.
Fighting every element that was ever known to man,
From droughts to blizzards you learn to do the best, the best that you can.
You watch your wife grow old before her time,
Saving every nickel, squeezing every dime.
Your children, always a blessing, as you sit down for your evening meal,
And share their days adventures and reap their love, such an awesome deal.
You hold hands and say grace, and give to God, His justly praise,
For these are unforgettable memories that reward your twilight days.
He thanks the Lord for his wife who stands steadfast by his side,
He knows without her it would all be for naught as he stares at her with pride.
Being poor has its many blessings that some will never see,
The closeness of a family that has known love, God, and poverty.
After supper the children clear the table and do the dishes too,
And paw and maw sit on their old porch and talk about things they need to do.
Then the children join in, and tell stories and sing some old church hymns.
Then it’s off to bed, but not before getting on his knees and giving thanks once more to Him.
The time that I have wasted is my biggest regret,
spent in these places I will never forget.
Just sitting and thinking of the things I have done,
the crying,the laughing,the hurt and the fun.
Now it's just me and my hard driven guilt,
behind a wall of emptiness I allowed to be built.
I'm trapped in my body,just wanting to run,
back to my youth with it's laughter and fun.
But the chase is over and there's no place to hide,
everything is gone,including my pride.
With reality suddenly right in my face,
I am scared and alone and stuck in this place.
Now memories of the past flash through my head,
and the pain is obvious by the tears that I shed.
I ask myself why and where I went wrong,
I guess I was weak when I should have been strong.
Living for the days and the wings I had grown,
my feelings were lost,afraid to be shown.
As I look at my past it's so easy to see,
the fear that I had,afraid to be me.
I pretended to be rugged so fast and so cool,
when actually I was lost like a blinded old fool.
I'm getting to old for this tiresome game,
of acting real hard with no sense of shame.
It's time that I change and get on with my life,
fulfilling my dreams to be a better mother and wife.
COLLEEN MARIE BONO
all the wild in it's wisp and brood.
fly nature in and scented skin.
fell silently her silk new bloom.
back in the arms of the one she calls him.
lay on clouds of pull and press.
arms of brambles twined and beating.
sharing stolen summer breaths.
watching all the world in it's dignity repeating.
shyer eye's would deny this zest.
prying lies would seem much less fleeting.
she senses as he molds her breast.
that her arching spine is for his pleasing.
rancid thoughts of past conquests.
ship's that crashed on shores still freezing.
are repaired bye his hand while she rests.
she will pay him on the night of receiving.
all the time bye it's muted actions.
self respect will show it's hand.
and disband itself from older factions.
and find a newer pleasant land.
rolling tanks will lose their steel.
smelted into natures consistent overgrow.
left as furniture for new lovers to feel.
as hand clasped hearts flail too and throw.
an old movie will play on their reel.
this audience has two,no more.
and if anyone dare to taint or steal.
the hand of romance will turn red with woe.
so shelter no longer your appeal.
let it dance on your flourishing soul.
know that life with love is real.
an old movie that for always will show.
Form:
“Great stillness reigned in the forest,
and I heard the green leaves dream,
I heard the dream of the bark from which
boats, ships, and sails will arise.”
(Adam Zagajewski)
There are half-finished statues out in the yard
and almost bald patches of yellow white grass,
where the stone that blossomed stood before
the newly finished work was lifted
by the old gardener and his two sons,
wrapped in blankets, placed, like fragile eggs, in straw
on the back of your old truck -
and you, delivered from obsession,
lover, mother, midwife to whatever
lies awake and waiting, locked inside
the dreaming clay or stone; you, your hair
still wet with sweat and crowned with
tiny shards of dead skin stone; you,
your fingers now slowly unclenching: Letting go.
How I love you in these moments,
when the old truck roars and the forest
holds its breath; when you forsake, for now,
the stone and clay, the chisel of Creation;
when you walk, unburdened, past me, back inside:
You set me free, abandoned me, so long ago,
I have become invisible to you -
but I still love and crave for breath on stone,
for that sharp pain of being born.
He is an old pan man and knows how to pan
Finding gold is easy, the tricky one is diamond
A diamond in the rough is a crude old stone
But the one he would polish would be his own.
So the pan man saw many a bauble, fine gems
Worn by the great and by the not great at all
Polished personalities without character's diadems
He watched them like leaves turn gold and fall.
Then from innate hunger of a lonely eye, he saw
A woman worn hard by the ghetto's bitter law
And yet her speech was full of grace, and dreams
Were bubbles in the churn of frolicking streams
But heart unbroken did not cease to hope, she
Seemed a common stone to jewelers greedy eyes
But he knew she was a diamond in the rough, he
Knew this was the moment to which he would rise
He courted her like a lady, for a lady she ever was
She was the honeycomb and he the bee that buzz
From flower to flower bring nectar to her sweet cell
His diamond in the rough that by the river dwell.
Then when his love had polished her to a finish
The pollen fattened chrysalis suddenly was still
And right before gawking eyes deformity vanish
And a diamond back butterfly fluttered in the thrill.
OH NAKED MAN IN HARMONIA
TELL ME WHAT IS LOVE
Love is when a sensitive child
Happens on a flowering hillside and
Cries out with joy
In the blazing eyes of a cat
The eyes only
Be it live
Or photograph
Love’s power is
That it has no secrets
Will allow none
Love will settle on a countenance
And strip it bare
For all the world to see
An old old man
Given up struggle
Given up thought
Helpless before his maker
Love has no earthly intelligence
But chooses fool
Or Saint alike
Some say love is complexity
But I say that love is simplicity
And draws its power
From contrast with complex things
So simple love
That it brings tears
Of disbelief
If love is fine
Where love is serf
Just think how great
Where love is king
On this side they call it love
What needs no name
In its kingdom
Love is not a God
It is a helpless thing
Without a power to persuade
Love needs no thought.
Those who think they love
Do not love at all
Think of every worldly set of situations
Thought about and then
Declare that love is none of these
None of these are love
Form: