Long Messy Poems
Long Messy Poems. Below are the most popular long Messy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Messy poems by poem length and keyword.
1. Valsa (means in our language 'loved' or 'dear')
2. I rate myself as sincere, humble, compassionate and conscientious
3. I am the proud Mother of two sons-Thomas and George
4. I long for peace, wish to have strong family ties and keep a child- like
fasciation for flowers, often getting lost in natural beauty.
5. I feel saddened by the pain of the less privileged and those stricken with
misfortune, find joy in the company of friends and keep a grateful heart for
God’s blessings.
6. I fear most, the ill health of the family members, disruption of family ties and
unexpected natural calamities that plunge many into misery.
7. I live in a suburb of Ernakulam in the state of Kerala, India
8. George
When days become messy with problems rife,
He helps me learn how to savor life.
He stays as a pillar by my side in all my strife.
I am ever content to be his adoring wife.
Listen, dear daughter, with heart and soul,
For the wisdom I impart, is a guiding role.
Love begins with loving God, and loving yourself too,
For self-love is the foundation, on which all else is built anew.
Believe me, you're special, a gem so rare,
Don't lose yourself, in the noise, and the glare.
Don't be a doormat, that anyone can tread,
Respect yourself, and your worth, will be forever wed.
When you look in the mirror, don't be ashamed,
Of the person you see, with a heart that's not tamed.
Don't let beauty's lure, lead you down a dark path,
For dignity matters most, in life's every aftermath.
The body is demanding, with needs and desires so strong,
But self-control is key, to a life that's lived all day long.
Be mindful of what you put in, for it's a choice you make,
Don't be a wild fruit, that's plucked, and consumed, without a sake.
Don't be like a public place, where anyone can roam,
And leave you messy, without a thought, or a home.
If you need something, work for it, don't expect it free,
For nothing's given, without effort, and a willingness to be.
Be an example, of a good child, with values so bright,
Be good, and kind, and gentle, with a heart that's full of light.
Don't be vindictive, or divisive, with a spirit so cold,
For forgiveness starts, with forgiving yourself, and letting go.
Nobody can love you, if you don't love yourself first,
So be humble, and cool, with a heart that's not cursed.
Talk less, and listen more, for understanding is key,
To unlocking the secrets, of a life that's lived wild and free.
Be careful of whom you give your heart,
For love can't be bought, and a heart that's sold, will never be a work of art.
A woman who fears God, is a woman of worth,
Clothed in good character, and respect, from the inside out, on this earth.
Don't love money, but rather, like it with moderation,
For the love of wealth, is the root, of all temptation.
Be a woman of substance, with a heart that's pure and kind,
And you'll shine like a star, in the darkness, you'll be a light to find.
I’m sorry for my flaws
I appreciate everything you do for me
I wish I could always smile at passing children
I wish I felt better about myself
I wish I saw the light you provide for me
The light I voluntarily turn my back from
The light I’m suppose to drink
As if to keep hydrated.
I’m surrounded by quarters and unfinished books
I read because I’m searching for affirmation
Quarters for clothes to be kept clean.
I’m divulgent
I parade my flaws
I hide, trip, and reveal my flaws
I am in constant concern of my own being
And a stillness of thought for a mind to be kept clean.
The world is a messy place
Our mind the raking of leaves
The leaves of the world fall and we rake
The leaves of the world fall and we rake
We fall and awake and fall again.
Love is warm, harmless, and stamped
Inefficiently weak by the assemblies of faces
Swept up by the world’s business of cold linear time
Moving like a sad and brutal train.
I sit at the station
My fingers interlocked pressing against my face
Peering through the thicket of my spirit.
Hours later, maybe, I am looking up the hill
Pulling my elephant.
Children circle around my small progress
Skipping and laughing.
(They don’t care,
They just like elephants.)
Though, last night, I dreamt I rode a killer whale
And so here it dawns on the weakened spirit:
That I am the Whale Rider of the Phantom World
Wandering through 10th Avenue
My flaws in our wake
My fist pumped high in the air
In the name of a Life Authentic.
This all dreamy and wonderful
While in the world of machines and mass movement
The elephant keeps his slow, tugging gait behind me,
Ignorant of dreams.
It’s been quite some time since you have not talked,
Eyes are being blinded a strange kind of choke.
You’ve let me read these pages of death,
I do not understand this coz’ it’s a bit much of threat.
I’ve thought that things are not coming back.
Come back home! So well we are getting back!
Intensely emotional after a sweet heinous talk,
Never going to be back in this while junk of stalk.
Sorry seems to be the hardest word.
Imagine things without him in this world.
Can’t possibly be back from where we were.
Starting it over like building good things in river.
It ended up in a sweet so called nothing,
Never ever be back in a messy ruthless something.
Good things always come from the start.
Good things are on its finest of all arts.
Some connections don’t come with clean edges
Ours was one of them
Messy, beautiful and unexpected
I’ve been carrying around the weight of an ache
Not the kind that wants to turn back time
But the kind that remembers how rare our friendship was
Before it turned into something we didn’t plan for
And maybe we should’ve known better
Or maybe we just trusted too much in how easy was to feel close
We understood each other
I don’t regret knowing you the way I did
But sometimes I wish we would have held tighter to the part of us that wasn’t complicated
I miss the laughter that didn’t come with hesitation
And the comfort that wasn’t cautious
I guess I’m writing to say I’m sorry
For falling when neither of us meant to
For blurring lines that should’ve stayed clear
We didn’t mean to love each other like that
But we did
And we had to let it go
We’ve both moved on, grown up and built lives we should be proud of
I see you sometimes and I’m genuinely happy for all you’ve become
But if I’m honest
There’s still a part of me that misses my friend
Not the past and not the what ifs
Just the simple presence of you
But let’s face it, you were never a factor in my life I considered simple
You mattered
You still do
In a softer, quieter way
LOVE CHANGED ME
She was a savage, a ing brute.
Unafraid to fight for what she wanted.
Brave enough to go to war,
For what she deserved.
~r.h. Sin
ME WISHING A MOTHERER WOULD
My family is more important than wealth, privilege or gold; it cannot be bought or traded or sold.
My love knows NO law, NO pity, NO fear, it dares all things and crushes down mercilessly and relentlessly ALL that stands in its path.
My love gets messy, mean, sometimes it even draws blood.
It clings and gets MADDENING with repetitive patterns, like horrendously BAD wall-paper in a room the color of, “No one wants to in’ chill here man…”
I argue, I fight, even stop talking to ALL of them at once!
However, at the end of my days, till the last breath I breathe, the love will be here, on these pages; flawless, raw, and faultless. Chosen and impeccable and absolutely, undefeated.
Because love changes people.
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Last Night
There is a stillness in the house
While I wait, as quiet as a mouse
I soak it up, this quiet respite
For very soon, I'll be more desperate
I will need the peace inside myself
To put my needs up on the shelf
For at this very moment
I hear the gravel of the tires
No warning shot, no cannon fires
Coming up the winding driveway
I can hear the troops, they are like an army
I hear them comin' ...., (and yes, I love them!)
This Morning:
Pots and pans fill up the sink, with baked on, crusty bits
There are several plates of dried up cheese, and dips with soggy Ritz
The kitchen floor has sticky goo, where the bowl of gravy spilled
And scattered glasses here and there, (a few are still half-filled)
New sofa pillows are on the floor, the dog is sleeping there!
The gift of chocolates, someone brought me...have somehow disappeared!
A rumpled afghan, lies in a heap, where someone took a nap
Beneath the chair, a scarf, a shoe, and someone's fleese lined wrap
There is Chex mix, legos, tinker toys, helter-skelter around the floor
Chocolate crumbs, beneath my feet, and handprints on the door
The remote control, was out the door, I found it on the porch!
The telephone was ringing too, and took an hour's search!
I'm finding candle wax, and a few thumb tacks, a mix of this and that
I keep finding things, ...then can't find things, has anyone seen the cat??
A turkey carcass stares at me, ......(I guess I'll make some soup)
A messy bunch of people, they are, but if you think I'm duped................
Thanksgiving Day, with family here, (although they leave a mess...)
A holiday, the best of things, and yes, I know I'm blessed!
My messed-up mind has always been messy,
A hundred voices talking at once about anything and everything:
The Parsi, the Persian, perhaps the weather,
Or evergreen jakkalsbessies.
Clarity and clear thinking weren't happening;
Chaos and confusion were rife
In a mind so messy.
A hurricane of ideas, but no focus to execute them,
A whirlwind of thoughts, but unable to prioritise them,
Reams and reams of paper filled with to-do lists,
Yet no executive function to begin them.
Trying to navigate life this way was exhausting.
It affected everyone and everything around me;
Doing anything became daunting,
And all I could do was keep apologising
As I tried to navigate this labyrinth called life.
Without the necessary tools for the journey—
No map, no compass, no GPS to guide me.
This was my mind, my life, until I turned thirty-three.
Then a miracle was sent to me:
A doctor, and a diagnosis of ADHD.
In finding and understanding the truth,
I gained clarity through the static.
It was like finding a lighthouse in the fog,
A safe haven, symbolic of everything I had been seeking.
Things soon changed.
From that moment on, I became pragmatic.
I could see the path through the thicket.
With the right help, I started seeing clearly;
I started excelling,
Even when everything around me felt noisy,
Chaotic, and overwhelming.
And although my thoughts still sometimes feel scattered,
Or full of static,
Moments of exceptional focus,
Creativity, and insight still emerge,
Though often sporadic.
So although my mind is often full of static,
I can find clarity through it.
It feels like magic.
I've found a way to seek clarity
Without removing the static;
It emerges through it,
Like a signal through the noise,
Though occasionally there's still interference.
But a messy mind will never be completely mess-free.
There will always be some clutter to tidy up.
Yet I've learned to live with it,
And no longer mistake my differences
For something that needs fixing.
Im still yet to hyper focused on OCD. Where cleanliness is a main priority.
The closet, once crammed with the styles of youth,
holds not so much as a coat hanger.
Dents in the carpet are the only evidence
that a bed, dresser, and nightstand filled the room.
The frilly window dressings and wall art are gone. The truth
weighs heavily on my heart; my sense of loss is intense
as I gaze through tears at the emptiness.
Five years ago, just down the hall, I stood in a room
stripped bare of furniture, clothing, and all hints
of the masculinity that had thrived there. The gloom
set in as I visualized the weight-lifting equipment
and the “man cave” corner that was always messy.
I reminisced and pondered where the time went.
My sentiments may resonate with others
who revisit vacant spaces—the fathers and mothers
now categorized as empty-nesters, who must accept
the reality that vacant rooms are part of the
natural scheme of things; they are survivable.
When it rains it catches you completely off guard
No mercy when it thunders and comes down hard
Your mind and heart starts to go down memory lane
Thinking about accidents and love that went in vain
It's inconvenient and it slows normal activities down
But it provides clean air leaving a saturated ground
It's cold and could be deadly if not approached right
You need boots and heavy coats wrapped up tight
It's amazing how rain doesn't over flow the beach
But it can help bring the best sweetness to a peach
The rain is recycled water that accomplish so much
The rain gives the earth that squeaky clean touch
Although it's messy and cause many to complain
It brings so many benefits so you got to love the rain