Long Maker Poems

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


A Kiss Goodbye

A kiss goodbye


Death is creeping, while I am sleeping.
My final year, my final tear, my final verse, there is no more.
Death is here, I am full of fear.
I have no money to pay Death’s toll, for,
I am a mere mortal mind,
Who is lost in space and lost in time.
All I possess is an endless black sigh;
A half-hearted plea for a love-life without the lie.


Fix me once more, or permanently close the door,
For I am not yet ready to venture forth, into that long goodnight;
But forward I will march into the doom,
If I have to meet another version of the truth.
With all my might, I continue.
Let me pay what they say is due.
The work is not yet finished,
So before I am diminished,
And banished from this spherical giant we wander upon;
Let me see one more sun, let me raise a son,
Let me say all my final goodbyes, 
Before all is said and done.


To any truth-sayer, please say “Have a nice day.”
I need the sentiment, more than the reality,
So at least before I meet my maker today,
I can say I broke the mold,
With every intention that lived inside of me.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
© Aa Harvey  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Bio


The Symphony

The Symphony

The mountains cried, “Praise to the Lord”! 
And the birds and beasts sang His praises.  

The firmament rose up to praise His name, 
The Infinite;The creator.

The soul of man reached up to his maker. 
As all the trees and grasses stood watchful,                                              

Mountains adored him; the mighty and the glorious.
The rain fell as the music to his mighty hymn.       

The wind made up the rest of the orchestra;  
A symphony to His greatness;All seeing and merciful.      

The Planets and the stars testified of His greatness;  
And infinity the everlastingness of His love.    

The mountains cry; “Praise the Lord”! 
The Eternal, the lovely one.

Premium Member Lessons From the Grave


Sometimes I’ve wondered – and, yes
I’ve pondered,
Wondering about my Grandpa’s lessons…
He was sometimes so kind, others – so wise,
Yet, whenever I think back, my memory goes blank…
Sadly, when he left this life behind –
Even though we all cried and cried…
He took many of those lessons with him, to the grave,
Where they’ll forever be remembered
As the lost, lonely messages in rhythm
With the melancholy of a moment lost, 
A moment gone beyond this world, into forever…
Where I’m sure his dreams have been heard,
And, we can know – with assurance,
That his love is counted as the most brilliant
And beautiful … truth that calms and reassures,…
There, in that marvelous place, heaven - where
Even the angels, no doubt, benefit from his message,
A message brought to life by the knowing…
Of One who gentles even the darkest storms,
One who silences the deadliest doom,
One who abides with us… when we feel so alone!

Yes, it was Him, the very best friend…
Who brought my Grandpa so much love,
So much meaning from up above,
Where he is living with the One who taught him…
To give without expectation,
To provide more than he could presume to gain,
To offer love that would forever remain…
His gift to a world who is filled with so much pain,
A world that is flooded by darkness and sorrow,
A world that needs the blessings of a sincere heart,
A world that is wrong, but a world that God’s Son…
Died to save – from the loneliest grave,
From the darkest doom – from the fear so appalling,
From the flames of hell, where the devil keeps calling…
Those who don’t know Him, the answer to every fear,
The reason that hope is here – the love that comes near…
To those who believe and agree…

Like my Grandpa – to be saved by grace,
Saved through faith – saved…
So that all that remains, is a love that promises hearts –
Forever, eternity, always with the One
Who prevents the world from being lost beyond the promise…
Of a love that silences the darkness,
A love that fulfills the heart,
A love that is forever and always…
Alive in the soul who knows Him as Savior…

Jesus, the light, the way, the maker of today and yesterday
The reason that I can cling to the hope that my Grandpa told me of,
The hope of everlasting peace with the One who created me to believe!

Premium Member Precipice

Standing on the precipice of fear and awe,
We are creatures in wonder and uncertainty.
We make all our heavens and hells.
This edge of possibility, where we search
uncharted interstellar dimensions,
the wormholes and blackholes 
beyond our comprehension.

Intelligent maker of such things,
If it is evident anywhere,
then, we are surely too small to know.
Does it drift through space like 
an unmoored ghostship or
is it the confluence of 
universal consciousness,
the essence of intention?

Is this universe alone, or 
just a branch of many on a tree?
Are we here by blueprint or 
merely coincidental?
Are we a rough draft, or
Are we an objective?

It is hidden in the rain,
hidden in the particles of pebbles.
Standing on the precipice of fear and awe,
We are actualities in stupefaction on ambiguities.
We fill our voids with heavens and hells.
Yes, we are tireless seekers 
poised on the precipice of the unknowable.

Premium Member Hollywood

There are many good people from Hollywood. Hollywood is a working class district of L.A. (1 of 42 districts). Celebs don't live there which includes the Epstein ilk. Bad people are all over the place,  especially the Red States and their people who voted for the bad leaders. There are bad dictators all over the world, repressing the women, not just in America. I've never heard of KKK members in Hollywood, I have in the Maga States. Let's not bundle all people in Hollywood, that is ignorance!

A good Ambassador Hollywood, to the world along with Jazz music, Hollywood movies, with their dazzling musicals, bright comedies, and intense dramas, and Si Fi, has been the dream maker for the world!  Even those working in the movie industry were by and large hard working Americans.  Glamorous actors just a tip of the ice berg.  For those conservatives, they should remember Regan was a product of Hollywood.   Thank you very much.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.


You'Re Worth It

Whatever the case may be 
I know that you're built for it 
the purpose of life is to find 
sumthin worth dying for then live for it
no matter what they tell you
you gotta keep ya head to the clouds
and only before your maker
is the only one you should bow down 

But let me just say this you're worth it
don't listen to the bullsh!t you deserve
the candle lit dinners a good man who's 
gonna be with you to the end of it
and everybody goes threw it 
but as long as you don't forget
what you worth, determination's the key
no matter how much any man or woman
cause you emotional hurt

As a people we've been chosen to prosper,
make it, and strive for the best 
you deserve everything thats coming to you
eternal happiness, real talk and nothin less 
everybody messes up, but it's up to you 
if you gonna stand back up,
my cup runeth over so I'm telling you
stay away from them disloyal people 
and get that dirt off ya shoulder

I wanna be the one who holds you 
and you can lean on me you ain't gotta be scared
I'm not just ya lover but your bestfriend 
not just the one who kisses you passionately 
I'm the one you fell in love wit unconditionally 
and there will be none after me 
I don't need to tell you, you should already know
you feel it when I hold you and I don't wanna let go
You're Worth It
© Corey Ross  Create an image from this poem.

Anyhow

Gratified be, in folds of your drape
If you choose to snitch anyhow
Your ending will not impress.

Life has countless slaps
If you will go prating anyhow 
Your tongue will scatter and mess

Appetite without restraint
If you will go feasting anyhow
Gut churning is plausibly, not a curse.

Focus on things that truly counts
If you will go befriending anyhow
Dreams will remain, horizon reach

The portals of time will never wait,
Leaving unfinished dreams behind
To excel, it’s the work of grace

Cling to the maker and by his grace,
Then like a bough you hardly can fall
Sustained by his trunk of grace.

As the maker will flings sorrow,
You will prosper, resolute and true
And your work will outlive ages.


Rights Reserved

Premium Member Only Him

Oh, how high, the heavens
and deeper than the sea
Your love
carries me…
And oh, You are my Maker
yet I have sinned so much 
can You save me? 
I need You Lord
I need you Lord
Your Spirit carries me.

Only by Your Son, can You see
can You see
with His precious blood, You see me. 
Cleansed me from above
I am free, I am free
child of the King, I am free! 

And now, My God, My Savior
Your mercy, your mercy touches me
alone
touches me…
And oh, how great, how holy
I see Your righteousness 
Your grace to me! 
I need You Lord
I need you Lord
Your grace, it touches me. 




Lyric written on 10/15/2021
Form: Lyric

When the River Runs Dry

When the river runs dry


When the river runs dry, tears of sorrow fill this poets eyes
The words just won't flow, as the blank page clearly shows

All life dries up as ideas and thoughts they get torn in two
All around us can see it and sense it they feel the sorrow too

For what is life without freedom of thought and it's expression?
All poets like their words to be heard and read without exception

Our Maker well knows our needs, knows us better than ourselves
When the river runs dry, He gives us clean waters found in his well

When we go to him and drink deeply of his fresh waters of truth
Our soul and spirit are invigorated  renewed like the days of our youth

Our prayers are answered as copious tears shower down from on high
We drink it all in till we're dripping wet, that's when we understand why

When we rely on ourselves our own thinking from our imperfect minds 
That's when there's trouble, the page is blank and so the river runs dry.


John Derek Hamilton
April 17,2016
Form: Couplet

Ghetto Boy

Ghetto boy

Ghetto boy born 
Ghetto boy live 
From grass to grace
Ghetto boy grow
Ghetto boy survived 
The ghetto never die 

Ghetto boy
Born in the ghetto
Grew in the streets
Initiated by the brotherhood 
Blended by the game 
Spiritualised in Christianity 
Survived the hard life and left for my future 
My blessings of life is dedicated to the ghetto
Cos every beginning always matter
You can't take away the ghetto from the soul 
Even when you are out of the ghetto
The ghetto never leaves you 
So despite the long distances
Home is always a blessing 
To never let die 


Ghetto boy born 
Ghetto boy live 
From grass to grace
Ghetto boy grow 
Ghetto boy survived 
The ghetto never die 


Ghetto boy 
Silver or gold was absence
On my birthday
Yet I grow to catch more worth in life
I grow to catch more values of my star
It doesn't matter were I was born 
It doesn't matter if my father is rich or poor 
It doesn't matter how hard is the ghetto
It doesn't matter the obstacles in the ghetto 
It doesn't matter what I can't or can afford
God is the king maker 
He honoured my star 
From grass to grace 
He allowed me to pass the seasons
Of life and am still on it
I love the ghetto despite my absence
Home is always a blessing
So I never degrade the ghetto
Cos am a 
Ghetto boy



Ghetto boy born 
Ghetto boy live 
From grass to grace
Ghetto boy grow
Ghetto boy survived 
The ghetto never die
Form: Epic

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