Long Marriage Poems

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


When Will The Punishment End


When will the punishment end?
I ask myself that question everyday. 

I know it’s my fault.?
I know the pain I caused my family can never be undone.
No apology can rewind time.?
No amount of regret can erase the moment everything changed.

And I carry that with me always…
Some mornings it sits quietly on my chest.
Other days it feels like a weight—
So heavy…

I wonder if breathing is supposed to hurt this much.

I replay the memories…
The choices…
The words I wish could be unspoken.

Not because someone tells me to…
but because guilt has a way of becoming its own punishment.

And still…
there are questions that echo in my mind.

When will we move forward?
When will the silence between us soften?
When will the distance stop feeling like a wall I built?

And I have no clue how to break it down.

When will happiness return to our table?
When will laughter stop feeling like…
something I do not deserve.

When will my family love me again?

Or maybe the harder question—
Will they ever love me again?

I understand why things changed.
I understand why trust broke.

Some mistakes leave cracks?
that apologies alone can’t mend.

I know that.

But how long does a heart stay on trial,
for a moment in time you wish you could erase?

How long do you keep paying,
for a debt you know you can never fully repay?

I’m not asking anyone to forget what happened.

I’m only asking this—
At what point do we allow regret to become growth??
At what point do we allow pain to become healing?
At what point am I allowed to believe?I can be more?

More than the worst thing I’ve done.

Because I am trying.

Every day…

I am trying.

Trying to be better.
Trying to rebuild.
Trying to become someone my family might recognize again.

But some nights the question returns,
like a whisper in the dark.

When will we move forward?
When will love find its way back home?

And the one I’m almost afraid to ask out loud…

When…?

will the punishment end?


Narcissistic Consumption

The sun falls into the ground once more
As has happened the day before
How content I may appear
But please, look between the looking glass
Please, you must look past
Past my facade, Im trapped inside my mind
The circumference of my skull is my cage
Im running out of precious time
I see no chance of escape
A mind of madness, they call it
And so I would agree
My failures regularly consume me
I cannot keep from wondering when it will end
My mirage of mirrors, ceasing quickly as it began
How tender youth aid and abed my delusion
But with age comes confusion
But with age comes heartbreak
But with age comes responsibility
But with age comes headache
Yes, they say misery loves company
And it does, for I do
And one day I may speak those words to another
Our tender love anew
So we may dance together
And my thoughts may consume him too
Form:

Eyes like a wolf

She had eyes like a wolf that reflected in green,
Reminded me of the ocean when it’s aquamarine —
Her pupils dilated, the look was intense.
I didn't understand, it didn't make sense.

She was a dentist, my tooth was bad to the root,
I wanted to flirt, but the idea was moot,
For I had a girlfriend, so it wasn't fair.
My girl is a bore, but we're a complementary pair.

(chorus)
When reason says “run,” don’t stand there and lean—
toward the eyes of the wolf reflected in green.
Remember the wisdom: don’t be beguiled,
Don’t stare into danger or romanticize the wild.

I pictured the fallout, and the spell was undone —
I walked out intact; reason had won.
Turned out later she was a crook,
Pulled half your teeth with a mesmerizing look.

She'd charge the insurance, or Medicaid
You'd lose some teeth, but she'd get paid
People can be flawed, so many ways.
I'll take the lady with the gentle gaze

My woman has the eyes of a doe
You know what you're getting and you get what you know
She may be a bore, but she's clean
You look into her eyes, and you daydream.

Then she tells you to stop mooning like an old cow
To rake the leaves, take out the trash, do it now
That's the lady who I like to see
No nonsense, but she has integrity.
© Gem Stone  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

MARRIAGE

Once upon a time ago,
An act of marriage was made so.
Film and sound both intertwined
And made a movie when combined.
At first, colour was not in sight...
Merely greys of black-and-white.
Ceremonies made in silence
Without gratuitous sex or violence.
As time went on, movies evolved
With many contributors involved.
The inclusion of colour and soundtracks
Enhanced what some pictures would lack.
Cameras of stock and sprockets
Would eventually fit into pockets.
Anyone can perform marriage
These days with the correct carriage.
These words are a mere summation
Of imagination and inspiration
That cinema has given me...
Thank you for all I hear and see.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Gift

I longed for his heart
  Vibrant, alive, full of love
     Filled with music, a song of hope
   Imagination, inspiration
Feelings rich with promise

I yearned for his love
  Lingering prayers held my dreams
     Fulfilling lights, bold and promising
  Opening silence with kisses of faith
Dancing on hearts, pure grace

I craved his kindness, his caress
   The way he smiled and laughed
      The breath of his kiss, his wish
    Pouring over me like dewdrop dreams
Penetrating my pores with intimacy

I ached for his touch, his hands
   Whispering soft against my skin
      Breathing stardust desires through me
    Lighting my heart with moonlight
Flickering bright as my tears gleamed

I hungered for his feelings, his warmth
   Enlightening and bold, stirring my soul
      Gazing through a lens of purity, promises
   Brought to life by vibrant affections
Feelings blessed with acceptance

I coveted his heart, his mind, his feelings
   The honest way of his tears, his mystery
      Happiness, inspiration, imagination
    The fierce honesty that made him so amazing
The love that would always awaken me

I wanted him the way drought desires rain
   The way darkness awaits the dawn
      The way silence expects a noise
    Like pain knows there will soon be pleasure
And my heart anticipates his devotion

It would be many years before I realized
   This dream, my fantasy, my hope
      Becoming a reality, assured and fulfilling
    Like laughter, inspiration, joy - knowing
Love like this is my heart’s wonder, a miracle, a gift!


Starting From Scratch With Ol' Scratch

Starting from Scratch with Ol’ Scratch
by Michael R. Burch

Love, with a small, fatalistic sigh
went to the ovens. Please don’t bother to cry.
You could have saved her, but you were all tied up
complaining about the Jews to Reichmeister Grupp.

Scratch that. You were born after World War II.
You had something more important to do:
while the children of the Nakba were perishing in Gaza
with the complicity of your government, you had a noble cause (a
religious tract against homosexual marriage
and various things gods and evangelists disparage.)

Jesus will grok you? Ah, yes, I’m quite sure
that your intentions were good and ineluctably pure.
After all, what the hell does he care about Palestinians?
Certainly, Christians were right about serfs, slaves and Indians.
Scratch that. You’re one of the Devil’s minions.

Legacy From My Dad


Dad passed away before I became a man
A man whom he had found a wife
A wife to build life with to mature

Mature as she gives me cute kids
Kids I have to toil for day and night
Night when I think deep about life

Life generating thoughts for solutions 
Solutions to life's current challenges
Challenges strengthening my heart

Heart residing inside a man of value
Value I had to defend at all costs
Costs that sometimes lead to wounds

Wounds of man, a real man to leave legacy
Legacy on the land of my audacious father
Father I am today because of my father.
 
Poem by N. Mugisho

Premium Member The Penny Jar

At almost every wedding you could count on my father telling the newly wed couple:

“You know, if you put a penny in a jar every time you make love during the first year of marriage and then removed a penny from the jar every time you make love thereafter …you will never empty the jar.”

One of my cousins didn’t quite understand the jest of the challenge and, for years, every time she saw my father she would say, “Uncle John, we’re still putting pennies in our jar.”

He tried to explain it to her a couple times before just giving up and responding, “That’s great, Becky.”

When my father passed away earlier this year, while helping my mother pack up some of his things from their room, I found an old glass jar with a few pennies in it under the night table on his side of the bed.

I chuckled, and, after showing it to his wife of fifty-nine years, my mother, I said, “Looks like you guys were just a few pennies short of emptying your jar.”

My mother shook her head and responded, “That old fool just kept putting his change in that jar and telling me; ‘We still got some work to do to empty this thing.’”

I dumped the few pennies into my hand and noticed two of them with wheat stems on the back, indicating they were old pennies.  I handed them to my mom and told her to look at the date on them.

1952 – the year they were married.

A tear came to her eyes again, as had happened often over the past few weeks, and she just said again, “That old fool.”

I dumped the pennies back into the jar and placed it over on her side of the bed.

We continued packing up his stuff in silence.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Collasped World

COLLAPSED WORLD
Things are fallen down, languages and cultures going into extinction
Sky  stood up with angry face, open her window and fall
Beauties  of women has fallen great men
Collapsed their marriage and fames
Handsomeness of men has collapsed heart of women
The wall of the world is collapsing daily
None to build it as it were before
Uncontrollable sexual pressures of humanity grossly hammered the world
Power from greedy souls collapsed  the peace,
that was made as promise by God to man.
Oh!  we are living in a collapsed world that her legs is amputated
By sex, poverty, greed, power and unrighteousness; they hijack the world
Collapse her  and abandoned in weeping state.  

Poverty led down wars, sexual trade and corruption were embraced
The abode of the poor is invaded daily by dangerous sickness
collapsing the peaceful world  we all cherish
Fear  grips the young unmarried, sickness gradually forfeiting God’s plan for us, marriage.  
Who can say he or she is not a victim of the  broken world we lived?
Knowledge of man has collapsed the world
Where is the knowledge of God that framed the world?
Yes. we are living on collapsed world
lips of women has broken men’s heart
pocket of the rich men spray feelings round women’s heart
Homes are broken, religions are fallen apart
Nations are struggling to erect their feet
Who collapsed the world? All.
               by>   pastor Emmanuel Brown .A.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Chair

It had been a long day…

I plopped into the yard-chair;

a small parrot soon let down
on a clothesline, mere arm’s length 
above and to the right of my 
aching brain – 

It seemed we had something
in common, as he eyed me
curiously...perhaps wanting
to say, “Why not wings?  Though
admittedly gliding has its limits”, 
he nodded (sensing his thoughts)
‘for even the best soar needs to 
pause at times, if to make it to 
journey's end….’

Journey’s End, I thought, 
barely recalling a beginning...

remembering all the pauses
in life: school, marriage,
children, divorce – writing
stories, writing poetry, painting…

but at the moment, this chair 
cradling my tired bottom seems
the world’s greatest achievement

I think I will dedicate the rest
of my life
to making chairs….

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