Long Messaged Poems
Long Messaged Poems. Below are the most popular long Messaged by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Messaged poems by poem length and keyword.
I was drifting north, looking out for work,
found myself in Iowa, in Des Moines,
a polka band was holding a concert,
they needed roadies, so I thought I’d join.
The work was easy, just moving heavy things,
and helping local seniors to the show,
plentiful beer, a big floor to dance,
guess that’s how these things usually go.
But some brought college-age grandkids along,
they had a good time and messaged their friends,
more folk arrived, and then some hipsters
thought polka would be an ‘ironic’ trend.
They showed on up, the crowd overflowed,
it was then things would get really weird,
’cause unknown to us, some damn hipster fool
poured liquid ecstasy into the beer!
And all of them were drinking heavily,
seven thousand or more soon were high,
old and young, it didn’t matter much,
soon their clothing all began to fly!
The band stopped dead at the sight of it,
they’re never looked upon such a scene,
countless old bodies writhing about…
that’s not something you can ever unsee.
The band-leader begged for them to stop,
I swear that he pleaded just like the best,
but no power we had could stop the mass
of wrinkled hides and sagging…umh—skin.
The hipsters and young folk got mixed on in,
too altered to know who they lay with,
pale, pierced, and skinny, doing sorts of things
even loving gods would find hard to forgive.
Somebody must’ve called the police,
because when they threw open the hall door,
and in a stunned voiced asked people to stop,
the walls of bodies sent up a mad roar.
Seven thousand people reeking of sex
spilled out into the streets in a herd,
the cops wouldn’t shoot senior citizens,
though I heard a few winged them a hipster.
The mayor declared all should stay in their homes
as the mob flittered and frolicked about,
it was more a parade then a riot,
and strangely some even joined the crowd.
After two hours they had made their way
through the suburbs out to a cornfield,
the effects of the drug now wearing off,
the funny memories now seemed real...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Blossoms line my laden descent
down to the perked watering hole
that plays empty theater,
awaiting my creative path,
a royal welcome -
represented by accumed variety and presumed clarity,
of intentional therapy of renewed sensable youth.
Periscope complicity is channeled by heart's stereoscopicity,
Dryad/Satyr Satire, no dry ads, only wet views.
Season facets a wild cherry scent to your vantage point
of attitude and beauty proximity, of dripping cues.
Draw the liquid curtain on the canvas
of insanely intimate hues.
To a crash on the rocks of the mind-blown
by windswept rescue chasing you behind a messaged massage,
Baywatch, Oasissed Dunes and slow Djin mirage.
Nature is no stranger to being the muse,
Rebel with a cause,
cause maybe this time you stay
and snuggle awhile, sailor.
Could’ve answered your message immediately
But it came after our goodnights
Sure I lack intuition profoundly
Within seconds I should’ve replied
The next day morning I did
It was the long letter, as usual
I had no idea you couldn’t read
Being on life support in the hospital
Then your granddaughter messaged me
Couldn’t believe the news I read
But I had to face the catastrophe
And since then it’s another thread
The living has been reduced to
The inertial track of biology
But in memories I live with you
Maybe this corresponds with astrology
Now I question myself and reply
Reading messages fast, as if
You see it, love, with your eyes
That is how we secretly live.
It's that time of year.
Pictures are posted,
Congratulations shared,
Songs of joy expressed,
And pride shining bright.
Everyone cheers; the kids have passed.
Reports are posted;
This is it, what the year's been building upto.
They're promoted a grade
And happiness cannot be contained.
Of course it shouldn't - they deserve it.
As I look at it all, I am both happy and sad,
I fear this time will never be the same.
You'd be a bundle of nerves
Waiting to unravel -
In the waking hours,
You'd stir me before my time,
Words pounding off the top of your lungs
As you express all your worries,
Concerns and what-ifs.
A bundle of nerves,
Falling apart at the seams
With only one thing to cure it - the results.
Report in hand,
Already messaged before school's released
After one thing only: permission to open.
Shaking with giddy uncertainty
When there's no doubt in our minds you've passed.
You'd say, "No way," to a question posed
But the results are louder than you ever are:
Top 10 again, without batting an eye.
On my status it goes,
With an ever beaming pride
Equivalent of a mother's.
Not that it ever mattered, top 10 that is.
You've passed another year,
You've made us proud again
It's what you've been waiting for,
It's all you've been working for...
This is it.
You've made it.
Matric '25 is yours
Even if you're not physically in it.
"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."
The sky is as blue as the day we said goodbye
My heart is as heavy as it was when we said our last I love you
My taste buds taste something as sweet as our last kiss
My nose twitches as it smells something as strong as your perfume
My hands are as warm as the last time I held you
My eyes are as emotionless as the last time we texted
My body is as hollow as the time I realized our chapter was over
My memory as chaotic as the time we first met
But it's not as if I miss you
I miss the warmth I once I had for you
I miss the smile that had once been reserved for you
I miss the way my face lit up when you messaged me
I miss the feeling of being alive
I'm not calling you a mistake
I'm just saying...
I miss the man I was
The one who felt whole for a few seconds
The one who was starting to put his heart on his sleeve
But...
I don't hate you
I wanted to thank you
For showing me that there's more to me than sadness and guilt.
Today, I decided to visit his second home,
To give him a message.
"Last week, you returned my package
With a threat to call the Police.
All I did was giving you a special message,
With a drawing to wish you
A happy Middle Autumn full moon day.
I did it because I thought you still had interest
In Asian traditional culture.
You should have made it clear in your messages.
That you no longer wish to have any contact with me.
Another day, you messaged me "talk to me directly".
No, I would never do that,
Because I felt uncomfortable and intimidated by your language.
Therefore if it pleases you, take this message to the Police.
Then, an hour later, I changed my mind,
Not about the message, but how to deliver it.
If I did it through your second home,
I will jeopardize your needs.
That was how we had conflict of interest.
Why do I keep on bothering you?
Because it was so ironic.
You wanted to raise the awareness
Of fairness and justice to others,
But then you did not treat me fairly and nicer.
I truly wanted to end the friendship,
Because it has become too negative.
But I wanted you to accept
It was me who wanted to end.
I did it fairly and diplomatically.
I wanted to tell you
It would be your loss and you will regret it.
As you had in the past 4 decades.
When the money rolls in,
But my wallets wearing thin,
What really did I gain?
More problems, expenses,
More purchases to mask the pain.
Need a loan for my habits? It's easy out here.
For skincare, for make-up... The marketing is top tier.
I gain the income,
But lost my time...
All of my energy expended, yet no progress made and no shine.
"I'll spend time on that idea,"
I tell myself, again.
Before I watch another video, then share it to your friend.
Forgot to move for 60 minutes,
But always had junk food on hand.
Didn't dress for the gaze of others, though didn't feel your glow when others didn't understand.
Hoped someone messaged,
The anxiety festered,
And the connection turned cold and suddenly I felt helpless.
So connected but so distant...
Have others felt this?
Did connection to divinity feel this empty?
Does the "ding" feel fulfilling for longer than a second?
Until the next hit... The silent addiction that is so multi sensory.
They liked me, they wanted me, but at what expense?
Walking around feeling beautiful... But ever so tense.
Access to every mechanism to sabotage ourselves. Adulthood, they call it... A never ending Spell.
Of opportunities, with lessons.
Grow, grow, grow again.
God sent me darkness who were dressed as friends.
We are the darkness too... And when I realised this, I flew...
Closer to God, our roots intertwined... No separation from fear of judgement, punishment or limiting teachings from my youth.
I've had it all, and I've had none. All of the attention then complete isolation... Both can be fun. Both bring lessons... The world and ourselves.
It's difficult to emerge again, to be present in both and to come out of my shell.
I lost God when I gained it all... And couldn't find Him the same.
I found God better... My way. The God who loves me without shame.
My imperfections are a journey and my mistakes brought me here.
With the understanding of the beauty and magic of us, our world and Divinity... I really have nothing to fear.
love has drifted and shifted from old days,
from daisies, roses and chocolate trays,
we fall in love, not after meet and look,
love is often through twitter or facebook!
her eyes were so dreamy on her webpage,
her lips so rosy they lit in me rage,
I fondled, kissed the pillow next to me,
dreamt with her I had a family tree!
I messaged her twice and got no reply,
good girls of that age I knew would be shy,
googled and Yahood, finally tracked her down,
knew exactly where she lived in my town!
that evening when we met, my love went cold,
her photo on her webpage was 30 years old!
Written 27/06/2021
Contemporary Sonnet poetry contest
Charlotte Puddifoot sponsored
10 syllables each line
14 lines aabb rhyme sequence with final rhyming couplet.
We started talking like it was no big deal,
Laughing at jokes, trading what we feel.
He asked how my day went, I asked the same,
Maybe this could be more than a game.
He smiled at the things I’d say,
We messaged back and forth all day.
So I showed him my world, unique and loud
The things I love and what I’m into.
But then his replies started coming slow,
Short and cold, like he didn’t know
How to handle the real me inside,
So he pulled back, stopped the ride.
He didn’t say we’re through,
Just left like none of it was true.
I sat there wondering if I was too much,
For simply being who I was.
I’m done erasing what I love
Just to be liked at all
If being real means he walks away,
Then he was never meant to stay.
I’m not a mask you wear for fun,
Then ditch the moment you’re done.
I’m worth someone who wants all of me,
Not just the parts they’re willing to see.
So if it starts again with a simple “hi,”
I’ll be myself and won’t ask why.
If he stays, then good that’s my cue,
If not, I’ll be just fine without you.
2024.5.26
Sunday, My house was broke in.
The next day, you messaged me "Good morning".
Two hours later, I explained about the robbery.
"Invaded?? i went past and saw
The police van this morning.
I was a bit worried that
Something might have happened."
From that day, every evening,
You came to my place and stay till quite late.
You made sure I was protected,
Until the back fence was repaired.
For a continuous of six weeks,
Every Saturday, you came to carry out a project,
"Putting lipstick on the pig"
You were quite sick of doing it,
But little you know, how I loved seeing you.
Yes, I needed your help,
But I needed your companionship too.
Our friendship grew bigger and better.
We had so many things in common except travelling.
We shared the same passion.
You kept on encouraging me
To get a piano or a keyboard at least.
You told me you had three,
One with the weighed keys.
I learned that your first instrument was a drum set.
When the project finally completed.
We shared music, songs and movies.
You were very gentleman,
Not once, you had tried taking advantage of me.
For that, I respected you most.
The most intimate time,
Was you put out your arm,
To help me getting down the steps.
Such fond memories like that,
How could I forget?
BB, I treasure your friendship,
How bitter sweet, short and brief,
Every day I pray, you are happy and healthy.
Thank you for bringing out the best in me.
You inspired me to write poems
Keep my diary in poetry form,
Did I do the same to you?
Have I made any possitive influent on you?
Today, Friday, 2025.05.30,
One year and five days later.
I still remembered how it was.
BB, thank you for installing
The communication Apps XMPP.
Helped keeping records of our days.
At least for me as my diary.