Long Monthly Poems
Long Monthly Poems. Below are the most popular long Monthly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Monthly poems by poem length and keyword.
I was looking over my stuff here, and itseems I've lost the talents I once knew here.
I write ancedotes for my column. I do journalism- always some deadline or project that I work well under the pressure of it all.
Writing is what I truly love!
There is just so many varied types I do, my poetry is suffering.
I enjoy reading the great writers here.
Sometimes I do not comment or remark because it is art and I'm at a loss of words.
It's just been enlightening to live such a full life, and to be right here, right now amazes me. I'm searching for some old therapeutic writes. I was on alot of medications at one time.
A victim of spousal abuse.
I came back up North severly medicated, drolling and my family would whisper, she'll never be right again.
Post Tramatic Stress Disorder aint no joke.
To be me, knowing what I do, and how very long it took me to recover...
When some never do.
Many men were nice to me along the way, poetrysoup has the best men in the world, they will embrace your differences, and encourage you to keep your chin up, and keep your pen flowing.
Vince I love you! Frank, you are the best friend that a girl to ever have! You've sent me so many books of stamps to write you back and also send you the latest edition of the magazine I am featured in monthly. Everyone has those times in their life, when nothing goes right. How you knew without me saying a thing.
Are you alright? a concerned letter in the mail when I was having it rough- and the presents that made me cry. It may have been a framed poem, but it meant the world to me, and still does.
And lastly John,
Why oh why did I pick the most just man to give the hardest time to?
He has put up with so much from me over the years. I love him with everything in me. If not for being a true servant of God where would I be without him.
I remember 5 or six years ago, and his lady, whats your problem?!
Well John, you are the very sweetest man I've ever known in my life... without you I would still be cold to the Lord. So many years and mile stones along the way. I can leave here, but just like the sands of Florida, you'll always see me back.
Thank You All, for reading me, but more - to support the struggling writers that fall between the cracks in society.
I love you Frank. I love you John. Don't ask which one more, because John is single and Frank is not hehehehe
Form:
Accursed human species
case in point Vladimir Putin,
who strikes terror across globe.
Don't underestimate his hell bent
zeal to attack United States,
one blood sucking infernal
predacious *****sapien
mercilessly bullies, interrogates,
threatens... with zeal.
Considerably less mortifying
constitutes wrathful ordeals
exhibited by adults who treat
thine wife with indecorous jibes
like punks who sat back of bus
or classmates at Methacton
High School, mine alma mater.
No different than typical mean kids
many crotchety residents here
Highland Manor Apartments
majority residents aggrieve the missus
though said counterpart (thee spouse)
exudes standoffish poise
countenance dons and
nonverbally trumpets scowl
body language broadcasts
social graces be damned
easily interpreted as snub
engendering hostile imprecations
cruelly fiendish provocations
undermine capacity to experience
peace of mind
exacerbated by her
figurative cold shoulder
propensity to flip the bird
notched, ratcheted, torqued... tension
courtesy miss prissy heiress,
daughter, she secured management role
albeit (hats off) to nepotism
guarantees lifelong job security
issued thee missus warning
rental stipulation disallows
overt middle finger flashing signal
emotional entanglement ensued
yours truly tasked
to pursue more favorable environment,
yet scant finances (mine)
and poor credit
two strikes against
locating affordable living situation
since sole family income
social security disability
direct deposited monthly
buzzfeeding checking account
regularly near anorexic,
cuz additionally I pay
costs of living expenses
cole king avoiding being homeless,
thus this penniless
among dime a dozen
day late dollar short
low income bracketed
(marching with madness)
mister casts quandary
couched as poetry,
no great expectations,
nonetheless cathartic to communicate
(hoop fully understandable)
present tense plight
projected as plotted trend
fat and/or slim chance
fate will curse me as lottery winner
pipe dream teasing
this word plumber flush with ire,
who feels nsync and drained
scraping hand to mouth
bemoaning apathy, dismal
effort, gross indifference
toward self sums (mein kampf)
plus academic struggles
proffers grim forecast
as coxswain at mercy
rudderless ship of state
edges closer to his waterloo.
I used to steal to make a living
Now I catch those with horrible upbringings
I was a legend in my neighborhood until high school
Then I was taught that stealing and mischief was not cool
I served in the Navy after school for four years
Now I am a DARE cop in the districts ears
I have busted several students with drugs
Discovering their drug dealers lowly scugs
I had one case that took my heart away
A young mans courageous story I am about to relay
His name is Kyle Summers a 5th grader
His efforts were never greater
His older brother Mike was part of a local gang
Murder Mike was his alias nickname
He never murdered anyone though he did like to fight
One afternoon he picked a fight that wasn’t right
A drug dealer Cameron Danz was lacing his Marijuana with meth
Which wasn’t likely to be anything less then death
Mike saw this and confronted Cameron about who was to receive
It was a couple of first timers with a curiosity for weed
Take their money and get rid of some customers was his plan
For he had no more coming in for a monthly span
A fight ensued when the first timers where his brothers friends
He was hospitalized because Cameron hit him with his Benz
At the hospital Mike told Kyle of the horrible intentions
So Kyle set out for their fates prevention
He ran to me while school was just starting
And I called their parents to give them warning
They relayed that the kids already left for school
I jumped in my car and looked for them too
Kyle had seen the drop off point and left school to help
When he showed up the drugs where being dealt
Kyle shouted as loud as he could to warn
They heeded his call and cast away the drugs in the barn
Cameron was infuriated with this and dashed
With all the drugs and a fair amount of cash
Smiles filed the boys faces when he ran
Though they never expected to see him again
He returned with a gun and held them in place
“Beg or you get it in the Face!”
Kyle held still and yet maintained eye contact
That’s what set off his violent attack
Cameron shot in a rage and emptied the clip
In shock Kyle fell forward more than a slip.
I showed up and tackled Cameron just a little late
I couldn’t save him he soon met his fate
In my eyes he saved his friends and died
Though now I live with it and sometimes cry
When I was around 14, I attended a church youth conference that summer,
sleeping in a dorm at a college campus and attending fun events with kids of my
same religion. The group I was with one day was strolling along a green shady path
when ahead of me I spied a young man, very tall, slender, and blonde. He had a
Justin Bieber kind of face but with cool piercing eyes, to put almost any young girl’s
heart aflutter. I immediately began to think of a way to meet him, and to my
surprise, I noticed that he was also noticing me!
Meanwhile, another boy, also with a strikingly cute looking face, appeared at my
side and began walking with me. He introduced himself as John Spencer. I would
compare him to an elf because his features were so delicate. His ears were elflike
and his doll face reminded me of the face of an angel. His body was extremely thin
and later I learned that he worried so much for his family and friends that he had
given himself ulcers before the age of 14! As we talked, I kept looking ahead at the
blonde boy, whose name I later learned was Chris. Upon seeing me with John, the
incredibly gorgeous Chris gave me a disapproving look and vanished into the crowd.
After that, I soon realized that John and I were turning into a “couple” and the rest
of my waking moments at the conference I would have my “Johnny Angel”
constantly by my side.
It was young love, first love, fresh, and sweet, and holding hands with John I felt
electrifying chemistry as we intertwined our fingers, playing “handsies,” my favorite
new activity! We ate together and attended together all the activities planned for
our group, and so my first time with a boyfriend was like an extended date, lasting
from the beginning of the week until the end when we rode home together
snuggling on the bus and planning when we would see each other again.
John lived one town away from mine, in the same city where Chris, the blonde
boy, lived too. At future monthly church dances in their city, Davenport, Iowa, I
would see them both and learn more about both boys. They became a big part of
my newly blossoming adolescent life and the romantic way I was feeling about boys,
but that is saved for chapter two of my story!
For Carol Brown's "My First Date" Contest
Adumbrated aeration regarding...
crafting reasonable poetic rhyme
nothing to sneeze... at chew
asthma lingua franca –
acts as supercalifragilisticexpialidocious glue
inspiring me to skip to my loo,
and ye to play altruist gist
imagining how and why I still rue
cashing mucho moolah legal tender
courtesy bitcoin cryptocurrency,
which absolute zero funds recouped,
nevertheless dumbfoundedness ironically
found steely mettle to get smart
courtesy posting gofundme page
(titled implacable ill fate
battered treasured wealth)
on my part already got told to you
dear readers visiting my literary endeavor
written within vernacular English
spoken amidst human zoo.
Okay, the gist of anemic
checking and savings accounts averred
asked from one
FaceBook English literary
Jim Hensen creation and
Sesame Street resident Big Bird,
I could plainly enumerate
Sachin (means 'pure' in Sanskrit
and another name for Hindu God, Shiva.
The most famous Sachin
ranks as recently retired
Indian cricketer, Sachin Tendulkar).
Impossible mission to expunge poison
regarding stupidity and never be cured
of spellbinding nightmares,
and not accused
of acting demurred
the esse cent chill
dime a dozen premise ensured
prime merrily to discover
visa wells Fargo
sieve err (ala Eratosthenes) forward
solution, whereby means
to save money
against being gored
no...no...no...not to be stingy,
nor selfishly hoard
meager unearned social security
monthly allotment, aye ignored
to mention as key piece
of information a dub bill
lit tete ting bout with anxiety,
obsessive compulsive, not cavil
air lee shaken off and schizoid
personality disorder like evil
mailer daemons, which
undermined ability to full fill
quality existence, and even
prescribed about,
a half dozen plus three
medications help ill
psyche, though nonetheless mill
yens of precious moments pill
furred with profuse sweating still
interferes supplementing,
stoking, and socking
away reserve till,
last creased furrow sought out
here in Schwenksville
Pennsylvania most likely, where
one last gulp of oxygen will
finally deliver cremated ashes
into eternal void
where psychological state
free from being destroyed
and forever exempt trying
to be write lee employed.
Benjamin Franklin said
“but in this world nothing
can be said to be certain,
except death and taxes.”
Paying tax may be painful
Yet our death is the singular
Most feared eventuality.
For us all, we know from birth
We will, at some point, reach the end.
So many say clichés,
Don’t waste time
Not a rehearsal
No pockets in a shroud
YOLO.
All true, yet what I fear
More than my demise,
The final breath,
The end of existence,
Is the fact I will be forgotten.
I will be mourned, I guess,
Never a certainty.
I will be missed,
In whatever measure.
My children will grieve.
The loss of a parent at any age,
Disruption, normality smashed.
The day after a fatality,
Of an elder, parent,
The first day in this earth without them.
Raw.
But time passes,
Grieve eases,
Mourning peters out
And life continues for those
Still residing on this mortal coil.
The fact I will be forgotten.
A day to day memory
Becomes weekly, monthly
Annually on special anniversaries.
In time those who dwelt
Along side me in this plane
Will join me on the other side.
In the realm where we know not
What happened until we get there.
If anything.
The ultimate unknown.
My name once dropped in conversation
Tense changing from present to past
Then distant memory.
Then what?
I fear one day I will
No longer echo in the mouth
Skip from the lips
Of those who knew me in life.
They too will become a distant memory
for those who dwelt and walked with them.
I cannot change how
Others will choose to
Remember me when I am gone.
Yet to pay it forward
With a wing and a prayer
I choose to remember those
Who walked before me.
I did not know them
Yet as I move through
The graveyards and cemeteries
Scattered on this land,
I speak forth, out loud
The names of those who
Dwell in the next world.
Allowing their names to
Echo in my mouth
Skip from my lips.
Bringing back the energy lost
To time and space,
Since their last breath was drawn.
Young and old, man and woman,
Child and criminal, saint and sinner.
All of us leave our stretch,
Square with the house.
So speak forth the names
Of those who shaped our world,
Bore our ancestors and
Hope your name is uttered
By Generations to come,
by those who come after.
Just by chance once I got acquainted
with a Bengali Writer and Novelist in a festival.
I had special admiration about his writings
which I had gone through beforehand .
He was a very handsome guy running in mid forty.
On interaction I was simply charmed with his orating power.
I developed a feeling like Hero Worship ,
though I was in late thirty then.
As a witty talker he drew my attraction,
but on throw of every third sentence
he was boasting of his writings.
It was irritating, making me feel inferior to him.
Actually his approach pricked my ego.
I am a Mathematician acting as Lecturer
and is satisfied on that identity.
I had never tried to write,
but I was successful in my chosen career.
He took initiative to make my ten- year old daughter,
subscriber of a leading monthly children’s magazine.
Later I started thinking ‘Is writing a big deal?’
Let me try.
My common sense predicted,
fields of stories and poems are too crowded to compete.
So I composed two scientific topics
and sent one to a leading Bengali newspaper
and other to the children magazine which was coming
in my daughter’s name.
Astonishingly , News Paper published my feature on fifteenth day.
Second topic came up on next issue of renowned Children Magazine.
That was the start.
Spectrum went wider broader.
Features on social aspects, scientific articles, fictions, poems
came up in series.
My story and drama got opportunity to get telecast.
All India Radio welcomed me as Talker.
Channel of writing Text Books is opened.
Acted as Editor of a Bengali Science Magazine.
I turned a professional writer.
Later formed team to stage drama on own script.
Life changed : New career started.
Activities in multiple channels flourished .
Argh...What Accursed Fate Did Lurk...
Regarding thee 2009 Hyundai Sonata
(50+ shades of gray), a cred
debt tub bull vehicle, that at
this moment finds sinking
feeling akin to led
zeppelin, yes (for almost ten years,
this car manufactured with damn) sped
to countless destinations,
no whomever drove head
ding here, there, or anywhere,
yea without missing a beat said
vehicle dependable, rightly never left
being reliable, thus no question even Fred
Flintstone could corroborate, how red
dilly reliant aforementioned car
stood us in good stead,
aye attribute to quality wed
did craftsmanship in tandem being exam
manned by skilled automotive technicians,
nonetheless majority of cumulative costs
exceed all other expenditures
and asper right finds
me in a severe emotional,
financial, and spiritual jam,
when meager money resources
socked with exorbitant costs
analogous to experiencing bam!
Over today, a six hundred
plus dollars repair, hits mine head
hard (albeit figuratively), I surmise
a worse fate than being dead
agh...please help me survive
this shell shock humongous,
(yet critical) brake system replacement,
cuz trickling optimism fled
leaving me agast
how ongoing expenses,
will be met for me tum tug get fed
now yours truly feels
utterly rife with dread
as his emergency savings
account reserve tapped,
since checking account
hemorrhaged i.e. bled,
whereat monthly social security
deposit cannot be used to feather bed
my inner peace, particularly when
alarming sense of monetary
distress dost dead
din ability to breathe easy,
when faith to remain
financially solvent fled...
Hence psyche feels like
being pitched to and fro
with no recourse to buttress
legal tender woe
full despair spurs philanthropic
largesse (I hate to beg), though
an upended employment track record
(most recent job held...oye vey
maybe two decades ago)
severe bouts of anxiety/
panic undermined emo
shin null (psychological) confidence
nsync with sweaty palms, this this bro
kin metaphor, which in part
contributes to lifetime mein kampf
of a bajillion times ho...ho...
humbug mood possessed mind
fiendish poker face spirit in hell
worse off than a hobo living on skidrow!
I see you standing there shivering and forcing a smile. I see you standing there looking at me for a while. I wasn’t sure that it was you so I kept staring to figure out who, but my eyes grows dim, and the grainy image on the screen that I could hardly see display a naked log leaning close to the wall with no branches except for some tiny sprouts on its head looking out at the dead.
It has been in the sun for a while so it’s white bark become brown and the tanned log crammed in a secluded space waited for an eternal cover. I wonder when this mystery will be over.
The rodents and the squirrel gather around and look at the log and frown and disappeared into their hole. Everything was quiet for a moment but the mongoose peeped out from the bush, looked furiously around created a frantic scene on the ground. It attacked a snake and wrapped it around its neck and both struggle to their venomous death.
I have often wondered what it would be like to be a diamond and walk on ice, living with the arctic and subarctic people from Serbia to Alaska all the way to Canada. I have often wondered what it would be like to live with the Inuit and Yupik, majority hunting food in the valley and plant grains when the weather is warm.
I would go hunting in the sun and water the roots with rum, and cover the naked log with animal skin to keep them warm and purge them from their sins .When the South Pole and the North Pole meet, the magnetic field will tremble under your feet and fire will burn in your gut and the ice will fall apart.
I wonder what it would be like to live in Greenland between the arctic and the Atlantic Ocean; we would comb through the icy waters every day stepping on ice sheet, feeding on eels and rice and eating Danish food as a monthly sacrifice.
Let’s go to the south to see what this mystery is all about, put on your best suite and dress in a good pair of shoes. Take a good look at the hydropower in the city and observe how the kinetic energy and the potential energy in the south are strong, they are walking together hand in hand and new business are rising up from the earth. But the North Pole is holding on and the cold temperature keeps trotting along. When will it be over?
The spouse betook monthly outing
today May 4th, 2022
to 3938B Ridge Pike,
Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426.
No more bare cupboards,
fridge, and deep freezer
since returning with more than
our share of daily bread,
plus other sundry provisions
referring to this mister, who
frightfully squawks like an old geezer,
ruler of roost,
plus the missus – ole hen pecker
nevertheless, neither of us
ain't no spring chicken
being locked within crosshairs
constituting elderly stage,
she doth dread
feeling like a charity case
swallows her pride,
cuz ample carload for us,
alleviating this bum searching
for crumbs to tweezer,
thus raw bits of powdermilk biscuits,
I need not scavenge, scrape, scrounge...
substantial commestibles
allows poet taster to breathe easy
inadequately satiates the missus,
(whose Godzilla appetite) defies
(cole) laws of nature to beef fed
predominantly healthy food,
that weighted our automobile like a led
zeppelin choking, intermittently
kickstarting, sputtering... along,
asper in (faux wheel) drive wheezer
putting utmost pressure
borne by taxing groovy tire tread.
Once mission (not so impossible,
but blessed relief) complete, I did aim
upon returning where we live
to acknowledge gratitude and claim
salvation for charitable deeds,
yours truly doth exclaim,
these volunteers, none I know by name,
nonetheless, a hearty poetic L'Chaim
afforded folks, who commandeer,
confidently coordinate quite efficient process
despite minor lament regarding
heavy toll stressing bulwark
quaking chassis, ripsnorting driveshaft,
shimmying entire automobile frame...,
hence no matter
our exhausted 2009 Hyundai Sonata
puttered along somewhat lame,
kudos to dedicated good samaritans,
worth their weight in gold to tame
hungrily growling, noisily rumbling tummies.
Healthy choices allow, enabled,
and provided us to secure provender
eases glum countenance of this clown
gratuity finds me bowing down
paying metrical obeisance
versus depleting meager monies
engendering botox frown
nipping in bud
forestalling need going
to preferred market such as
Aldi, LIDL, Redner's, Target
or Trader Joe's grocery shopping
to the nearest town.