Long Moment Poems
Long Moment Poems. Below are the most popular long Moment by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moment poems by poem length and keyword.
I came from where I'm going
Up around the bend
I made it back from heaven
Not sure how long it's been
In life there is no circles
The lines they are obscured
I felt a pull inside me
A calling is what I heard
The road it was a rough one
Back when I was young
The devil had a hold of
The soul that I had owned
He promised me the world
Then took me down the small dark hole
He showed me that the good times
Don't come from God's laws
The people are now different
Than they were before
The town is now a city
This place where I was born
But in the years I noticed
As time had past me by
Hell is closer
Than the eyes realize
I worried that I waited
I waited much to long
I convinced myself that heaven
Was a walk I couldn't do alone
Then the moment came
My mind left it's home
I severed all the life lines
All the ones I had known
Then a voice from the darkness
Came and said to me
If you believe in the light
Than I will set you free
Forget the pain your feeling
For mercy is what I know
I have always loved you child
And have never left you alone
So remember where you came from
And where you will go
Just believe in the light
You will never be alone
My Angels will guide you
I'm the Father of you all
If you will only choose me
I promise I'll bring you home
Brave Turnstones beg for crumbs despite their size
dogs lapping up the joys of empty beach
though Gulls brazenly dive for bigger fries,
the old folk keep their meals just out of reach.
Far offshore the wind farms wave farewell
with hushed applause the waves part company
warm breeze now shrugged off as the evening fell
sandcastles gobbled up by greedy sea.
A deep intake of breath just through the nose,
we, like the last line of a favourite song
'ere wistfulness tails us like long shadows,
enjoy one final moment, then it's gone.
the distant sun puts on a final show
for those of us who won't let summer go.
There is a character I had known back at the barracks,
That his doings earned him the title 'Smoke man,'
He had weird habits that always succumbed to change,
He had a way of bringing life to introductions & then deep graves on mid-parts,
The only thing he ever finished was his ciggie.
His loss of interests shriveled like rains in July,
And he lost patience fast,
You could hear him complain of hunger at times food delayed over the fire,
And when it's finally served,
He would take three or at most four spoons,
Spit out the last and bark 'Whatever this new recruits can cook, a rat can better,
As he pulls out a victim from his cigarette packet.
Sometimes I think he found more meaning in cigarette packets,
Than in all the Arabic the Janabu spoke,
Along with his promises of outcomes,
He did not have much,
But had never been poor enough not to afford a pack of ciggies.
Yesterday he was out on a Valentine's date with a girl,
I could sense his excellent starts,
As the woman released conservative chuckles and giggles now and then a while later,
At one moment he reached into his pockets as if searching for something important,
You could puzzle out the anxiety and expectations on his date's face,
As if expecting an engagement ring or something of interest,
To her disappointed he shoveled out a lighter and smirked.
They say time changes people,
But for as long as I've known this man,
He's never changing,
Not until he goes into a grave,
Where there are no chairs & cigarettes.
*Janabu is an Arabic word for a senior rank military officer
© John Ngor Deng
Because of my deformed face, everybody calls me a monster instead of a Human Being.
I'm different but I'm still a person, that's something that people have trouble seeing.
I'm just like everybody else except for my deformed face.
I demand respect because I'm a member of the Human Race!
I recently met a girl and she's so sweet, lovely and kind.
She was able to fall in love with me because she's blind.
Loving her makes my life worth living, every moment with her pleases me.
But my world is about to come to an end because now she'll be able to see.
A few days ago a doctor restored her sight with an operation.
When she gets a look at me, will she feel love or devastation?
She just walked through the door and took a look at my face.
She says that she'll love me no matter what as we embrace.
I was weak but her love and kindness make me strong.
I thought that nobody could love me but I was wrong.
(This poem was inspired by a television show that I watched.)
Chapter two begins softly for me,
a quiet truth I always knew.
It feels like turning a familiar page
and finding my way back into you.
I was all in from the beginning,
every moment, every kiss, every day.
Even when distance challenged my heart,
my feelings for you never slipped away.
Your curls lived in my memory,
falling gently through my mind at night,
a tender echo of the comfort
that once wrapped me warm and tight.
I felt the ache of missing you,
the silence heavy in my chest,
the kind of longing that teaches a man
what his soul refuses to forget.
I had my own small moments of doubt,
my own wounds rising without command,
times when fear blurred the truth I felt
more deeply than I ever planned.
But even in those quiet shadows,
beneath the noise of my thoughts and pain,
something in me stayed connected to you
like a soft and steady hidden flame.
And when life slowly brought you close again,
not with grand gestures, not with rush or sound,
I felt a calmness in your presence
that told me my heart had finally found
what it had been reaching for
through every step I took alone.
Your warmth arrived like gentle truth,
a reminder of where I feel at home.
Now I see you with clearer eyes,
with more gratitude in every breath I take,
knowing the journey through my doubts and fears
only showed me what my heart cannot fake.
So here I stand in this Never ending story,
with sincerity filling every line,
ready to love you with the softness
I struggled to show the first time.
This is not a new story for me,
it is the same love, deeper in its hue.
A love strengthened by distance and lessons,
a love that still leads me right back to you.
And as I walk this chapter forward,
I do it with an open, steady heart,
knowing that what we share is real
and has been real from the start.
@---->---
(Lily, Lada and Pema, 2025)
In The Morning
In the morning I sit
Coffee cup in hand
Dogs nestled in on either side
Feeling like a bump on a log
With no desire to do anything
To disturb the peace of the moment.
Inside my thoughts are a gentle cascade
All the dream images of the night before
Like pieces of several different puzzles
Jumbled all together in the same box
Not needing to be sorted
As much as simply settled.
The dogs around me have no such issues
Each of them sound asleep
Each of them a soporific engine of their own
Casting a wide net of calm and comfort
In a world where everything is always
Just one day of moments at a time.
(8/18/25)
She says this isn't that
And she has no desires
To receive flowers
To be a girlfriend a wife, that life!
No interest in a man wishes
DELIGHTED DILEMMA- I Love Her Soul I Stand
Coveted marriage
Chosen mission
Is to envision
Salvation for the individual you man/b>nity
Though she impressive her life so brightly
DELIGHTED DILEMMA- I Love Her Soul I Stand
Shines I envision I love her without the lust
Yet not fair for but yet seriously desiring
Not to ask her FATHER for her hand
For you see He has His daughter in HIS hands
DELIGHTED DILEMMA- I Love Her Soul I Stand
And though I love her and will not ask the Father for her
Yet and still I asked for HIS will to prosper her
To shield her to guide her
For His love is greater than mine for her
And I promise to just stay
DELIGHTED DILEMMA- I Love Her Soul I Stand
Even though she wants nothing to do with me
Yet still she looks my way I receive her light
Her smile I'm in love with her
Ever so
And that this moment I just standand await clarity
Vision my purpose for her is just to stand and wait???
DELIGHTED DILEMMA- I Love Her Soul I Stand
12/10/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
The awakening with which I was blessed
Is the most precious gift that Life could
Ever give me!
No amount of materials would ever be worth it
Since, in the very end,
The material body rots
And shatters into dust particles,
Having not even by its side,
Remnants of its shadow!
Yet, it becomes a puzzle
To make out the meanings of its riddles
It becomes harsh
When the meaning gets twisted
And turned over in my mind
As I wonder about its many options!
Living with it, though,
Feels like being always sheltered by an invisible shield
Living with it, indeed,
Feels like the angels want me to know
That they are here, watching over me intently!
Why, the happenings of each moment
Matter not
The burns of each charcoal on my skin
Matter not
The blood oozing out of my soul
Matters not
The cries of my heart as pain invades it
Matter not!
Nothing does and nothing ever will
Except showing more submission
More love, more obedience
To the power which thrust my awakening
Upon me!
Pray, the ways of the Lord are harsh
And they do get harsher as the level of
Spirituality rises!
I know,
I have failed the skies many a times
Being, for the most,
Ruled by the tugs of my human essence
But then
There where the Lord resides
Is where I wish to be
Enjoying His grace, His mercy, His kindness,
And even His love
As if such were my due!
The awakening with which I was blessed
Remains the oars I use to row my canoe
In Life's murky swamps
As the waters get more wavy
And creatures of the depths show up
Merely wishing to have me agonise towards my doom!
Today we commemorate 9/11…we remember the moment our world turned grey…it’s our annual reminder…of everyone and everything we lost that tragic…fateful day.
There have been 20 years of children born Sind 9/11…an entire generation not around…not around the day those lives were lost…not around the day our world came tumbling down.
Not around to remember how beautifully that day began…not around to tell…
how that beauty would change forever…the day the towers fell.
Not around to see people jumping out of windows…frightened women…frightened men…not around to remember telephone calls to loved ones…they’d never see again.
Not around to see the population of a city swallowed in debris…
Not around to see our country’s courage…our resiliency.
Not around to know of the heroes…for there were heroes everywhere
They were on the ground beside us…they were flying in the air.
Not around to understand what was in each person’s heart and soul…
In a plane when they decide to fight…when they uttered the words, “Let’s roll.”
Not around to see the carnage…smell the smoke…or here the din…
Not around to see people running out of doors while police and firefighters were running in.
That’s why we commemorate that day…
why we remind ourselves of the panic…the anger…the destructive power of a jet…
So those not around back then will long remember…
a day the rest of us cannot forget.
A sagacious luster looms
upon lavender lyrics oracular,
spectacular in simple suffer
for atop the electric spire
Her violet fire will conspire
to revive love
that Time consumes...
A purpose placed gently,
in the center of your wisest pulse,
like a gemstone of graceful genuflection
palpitates for poetry
not of threadbare words
but of song soothing
into the theater of your purple glow heartbeats...
They said you were broken
because the hues of your eyes
could not be predicted,
they claimed you fragile
for feeling the fright of love lost
in withering worlds,
they believed you were damaged
by your own defense
against the touch of duplicitous ice,
but you were never defeated
by the dark drama,
you've always been
the wise wound warm...
Cheek bones speckled
with a sapphire tablature of taboo ache
turned to love blush beauty,
your body moves to song
that pitches prettily
in the poetry of blossomed joy...
You already know how
my heart wakes to your wishes,
you already hold the poetry of my soul,
You already know
what love told loneliness
a long time ago,
You already hold the joy
that we craft from iron gold...
Love waits not for Death,
nor for ideal birth,
the moment love awakes
it creates spirit that subdues all fates,
love is changing you into something unpredictable,
independent of imagination,
real as riptides in the center of a rose
sweating from anticipation
of warm lips
on petals of tender adoration...
When you left,
it felt like theft of breath,
I wondered with a wincing,
if the answer for your enigmatic evanescence
was in regret, revulsion, or a revolution of love,
I wept hard,
I made grace from the grief,
I loved you for the price...
J.A.B.