Long Memorandum Poems
Long Memorandum Poems. Below are the most popular long Memorandum by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Memorandum poems by poem length and keyword.
A world
Is a manifestation of what has been created
Fascinating it is
A song
Is a formation of what the words mean
Interesting as it sounds
A memorandum
Is a stipulation of what has been agreed upon
Intelligent as it is
What would you say?
Life is all about challenges
Obstacles are there to be overcomed
Embrace yourself For disappointments
Respect is all about acceptance
Discrimination is not allowed
Embrace yourself For unspoken words
Love is all about commitment
Trust is there to be earned
Embrace yourself For modification
This sentence is to be continued
A human being
Is an innovation of a creation
Amazing it is
A soul
Is a remembrance of what was created
Unique as it is
A heart
Is a vessel of feelings
Imperative it is
What would you say?
Touch And See
We are a society of folded ears. We opt for our apps
through touch tone effect instead of real conversation.
We are a generation of visual selects that forgo the hearing
only to embrace tap memorandum. It works great on the optic
nerve but what does it do for the hearing workout ?
We send emoticons & floating sonic hearts but sometimes
we need to be heard for .... R E A L ....
we need time that the computer can't steal...
. we read about our family members through the internet
. we listen to nature through the internet
it is easy to lose our equilibrium and feel like we are living
in a cyber wheel that doesn't stop.
A D D ... ANOTHER DIFINITION for it WOULD BE,
Applicable, * Deaf *Disorder
DON'T LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU.
Some people would love
Who you are
And some would love you
On what you can do for them
It's a penny for your thoughts
Some people would love
What you can become
And some would love you
On what you can achieve for them
It's a mouthful,
Exploration requires a productive mindset
Be careful on who you surround yourself with
The signs are always there
Expectation requires an innovative mindset
Be careful on who you share yourself with
They usually show themselves
It is What it is,
Some people would love
What you are
And some would love you
On what you have achieved
It's a truthful verse
Some people would love
What you have conquered
And some would love you
On what type of person you are
It's a story that's endless.
No one gave us a roadmap,
no guide to navigate the twists,
the jagged turns of life’s unknown path.
They filled us with hope, with dreams, with promises.
Tales of a future, bright and clear,
a mirage that fades just as we reach for it.
Lies.
We whisper it to ourselves
as reality sets in.
Life, a test we never studied for,
yet we’re forced to take.
Dropped into the deep end,
flailing, fighting, drowning,
no lifeline to grasp,
no safety net to break our fall.
Our parents, worn, weathered,
cling to wisdom that no longer holds.
They came from a world where work was steady,
where machines didn’t steal jobs,
where effort meant security.
Now they depend on us,
but we have no answers to give.
We are sheep without a shepherd,
Lost in the storm of uncertainty,
Our steps faltering, unsure of where to go.
Answers slip like shadows through our fingers,
leaving us with only time,
heavy, unyielding time.
We improvise, we stumble,
writing our syllabus in ink and pain,
forging our path through trial and error,
through blood, sweat, and tears.
Life needs a memorandum,
a guide to show the way,
a blueprint for the lost,
a light in the dark.
Yet life offers no memorandum,
only questions left unanswered,
and the blind leading the blind.
"Mine all Mine!"
A thief I long to be
Your eyes original like the moon and sea
A lover in the world............
An Anthology, you walk and talk like the word "AMOR."
The words you send, I nicely tuck under my pillow
Every note every line you left behind
I memorized till they became all mine
Word-for-word,
Unauthorized I scrape the concrete calluses off the tongue
Pirating the perfect dramatic monolog look,
Basking through the passage around your Bio,
Lost in the musky scent -around the sonnet of your aura light
Epic enough, I reach inside to feel every idyllic rhyme
A strong iambic meter curse, conjuring up the perfect verse
In you I lift a copy paste from your lips,
No need to credit the sources in your bliss
The sweetest undamaged sensual memorandum book
A moment I stole and sealed without copyright proof
My dearest Poet,
When you move across the room
I see a thousand arrows that follow from behind,
Indulged when you speak and point out a verse per verse
I am a victim pampered by your words,
Sponging every line, adding them to my crib notes
Improved wordplay that infringed my everyday diary
A haiku so tangible, it sets the perfect images in my dream,
Hypnotize after I read your first love poem
A printed feeling--
Borrowed from the sun
pd
SEPTEMBER'S POSTSCRIPT
The amber calendar dissolves,
leaving September behind to
inherit the melancholic residue
of our ephemeral summer.
The equinox arrives, a quiet
guillotine of gold,
servering the incandescent
warmth we used to hold.
September recedes, leaving a
skeletal landscape behind,
and the calcified architecture of
a love designed
in the reckless crucible of July's
blinding blaze,
now reduced to the twilight of
these shortening days.
Your absence is a reminiscence
that deeply hyperventilates,
an unforgettable phantom that
never truly abates.
I am trapped in the
retrospection of your quiet
silhouette,
navigating the imperishable
cartography of my own regret.
Every fallen leaf is a
memorandum of what we
could not save,
a fragile, amber monument
above a silent, emotional grave.
I am paralyzed by this heavy,
internal compunction,
standing alone at our love's
abandoned junction.
The autumn wind whisper of a
bittersweet commemoration,
of a fleeting, brilliant spark lost
to sudden isolation.
September leaves behind the
frost of what will never be,
locking your ghost forever in
the vault of my memory.
With everyday under protected skies,
we come across some traitors lives.
Promised solution to all complexes,
riches beyond faint heart perplexes.
Adoration by fame benediction,
bargains without guilt affliction.
The patriot and his free ticket vote,
righteousness that need some promote.
Fees for the clamorous priest,
words of comfort in the least.
Stones and graves as memorandum,
dust to dust and its bleeding phantom.
Bubbles to buy in ounces of gold,
it’s the story as package to be sold.
The price to know God for asking,
resuming whole souls tasking.
Imitation of immortality without death,
lyrics and rhymes already in breath.
Scientific prophesies as politic conclusion,
sweetest moments of delusion.
Medias senses of what is right in time,
feeding the truth through a costly plastic frame.
Enslaving oneself by far more credit,
for the children to know its inherit.
The dying dream with its inspiration,
ceased moments lost in translation.
The placid and self contained condition,
takes forms in transparent definition.
As term-less feast of our content,
souls are more then body meant.
Wasted time in displeased self-assertion,
no values after deeds in resignation.
The greatest tragedy of the world in confusion,
the lack of awareness in spiritual evolution.
As they reveal themselves
Count your blessings
As they throw curve balls
Know who you are
This is your time of blessings upon blessings
This is an opening
Of a written future
Know your history
And then you will know what I am talking about
This is a sequence of dreams
That were meant to be dreamt
Know your basics, that is all you need
This is a manifestation of a memorandum
That was agreed upon in the ancient times
Know your forefathers
And then you will know what I am talking about
As they acknowledge your existence
Know that God does exists
As they digest the prophecy
You have achieved it all
This is a rebirth of your soul
A note to the wind
sent on the wings of hope's demise
she was the only person in my life
who could make me smile ;
That laughter that once rang out
through the echoes of my mind
is now but a faint whisper,
of the joy she used to bring.
Stories of yesterday,
etched on the sand dunes of tomorrow
what am I supposed to do,
with all this sorrow?
Oh wind, I feel your crisp sharp slap
and sense you on ocean liners and mountain tops,
have you forgotten to be gentle with wayward souls like me?
Memorandum of our lives,
flying towards unattainable
horizons ...
I feel wild without her,
like an untamed you,
oh wind
have you seen her?
Oct 30, 2022
I will not go away completely
When it’s my time and curtain call
Continue, ever-so-discreetly
Like someone’s writing on the wall
I get to linger in emails
And links I sent, with silly jokes
All those stories, chats and tales
Addressed to friends and strange folks
Like passenger who leaves the roadster
My band plays on, yet I am gone
My face, not worthy of a poster
Shows up in photos I have spawned
In little gifts I passed around
In words I said and verse deployed
Imprints on sand and stony grounds
I’ll hop along, defying void
With deeds to be recalled at random
Bygone handshakes and warm embrace
I wrote my own memorandum
On how to quit but leave a trace
July 19, 2024