Long Moving Poems
Long Moving Poems. Below are the most popular long Moving by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moving poems by poem length and keyword.
(Waterfall mountain means huge amounts of emotions in a mighty deep poem)
Oh no...
Those harmful hormones
You know...
I am a trash bag of bones
I will love you
Till the end of tickin time
Our time so true
Is kinda oh so sublime
Cheek to cheek, we are dancing on fleek
I am the nerd geek, seeking fame and fortune on the peak
Screaming aloud in joy
I have been a beaten-up toy
Say after me - you will be happy
Positivity, like a door, requires a key
Our hopes melt like ice-cubes is the sun
Our anxieties weigh a couple of tons
Cleaning up the remains of our past mess
Feeling empty due to the lack of happiness
I want to let go of my distress
But, how, when I am not making any progress?
I lost my mind of being left behind...
There's no words that I can find
On your tongue that are of encouragement...
All you do is bring us down in discouragement
My life has no significance to you at all
I'm left to be an unanswered call
I see you in agony and it gets me feeling it too
Dampened by darkness and distress...isolated in my own home, if only you knew
This is what I feel...not of your concerning appeal -
Empty, lost and alone in a mess that I don't take part in through thick and thin
Yes, what I feel is a big deal...a truth I can't conceal
Envy, lazy and unmotivated has shaped me into this remorseful monster from within
I must move on from this spot where I rot
Moving forward will be hard...no one ever said it was easy in the first place
I catch a glimpse of you, running a sweat...climbing up the mountain of your waterfall tears and childish fears that you've bottled up inside - you're facing them in a fearless way that's motivating you to run the extra mile...as if you built up the strength for this challenging moment in time...all for the prize of vast grace
Our pathways haven't met...our personal confrontations are almost fought, but I see we are both downtraught and fatigued due to the worrying and doubt that is wasting away our valuable time that was supposed to be spent together...apparently, we are sidetracked by doubt and disarray - all for naught? Give it all you got
The smell of French bread baking, seeps through the kitchen roof and the women wearing aprons of assorted colors and fine knitted hat kneading stiff dough in big pudding pans.
They kept moving for oven to oven taking out baked trays and replacing them with new ones. They had a hundred thousand orders to fill and it kept them on their feet all day.
They kept changing shift but they could not complete the orders on time, they worked all night drinking coffee to keep them steady and sweet doughnut to keep up their energy.
The sweltering heat in the kitchen wets her face and soaked her body but she continues to knead the dough for the evening show .
More than a hundred women in the kitchen bustling with activities and each of them has a different assignment that coincide with mine. They had to deliver four thousand breads before three.
Five thousand people are sitting on top of the mountain, waiting for manner to fall from heaven; they have been there for five days, listening to the Greek oracle and the story of zeus and his life on mounts Olympus.
He controls the skies and carries the signal of thunderbolt, the eagle. the bull and the oak, he gets his energy from the east and carries a scepter with a decree.
He was called by numerous names but Plato knows that he is always the same epithets is one of Zeus surname.
I walked quietly into the multitude to hear what the lecture was all about and someone spotted me in the crowd and starts to shout, “I ‘m hungry” she cried, “did you bring me here to die,?” “Zeus has five children”, she said so give me some food before I drop dead.
See them standing in the breadline holding long French bread from the divine, the multitude on the mountain has not been fed and you have to deliver five thousand French bread before Zeus emerge from the sky.
The smell of French bread has opened my appetite and the women in the kitchen has bread galore to fill up all the bread store; place your order before you go through the door.
I was in the middle of creating when I realized how gloomy everything was turning. I was placing mean words on the paper. I had started with the word inspiration…..so how had this happened? I stared in horror at my words, which had turned dark and angry.
Apparently I had spent too much time in my tomb this weekend – blinds shut, dog on lap, two fourteen hour days of sheer darkness, lit only by unhappy fast moving TV people – detectives, solving murder after murder. A steady diet of UGH.
Have you taken a peek at your children and grandchildren’s video games? I have. They are not much better than what I had done to myself this weekend. But they are younger, and I should have known better. All this yellow tape and meanness to humanity is not good for this garden-loving grandma.
I can only imagine children’s bleak hopelessness on Monday after a steady diet of swear words and killing on the weekends. Has anyone who is an adult played Fortnight? The most popular killing video game and free to your children? I can barely function today after my weekend, and I am supposedly a grownup.
Take a peek at what your children are doing. And help them, and then come to my house, tear down my blinds and break my TV okay?
Not a recent occurrence yet i'm recently forcing myself to it
“Keep moving forward” I say pushing myself through it
Pondering at the thought that one day my troubles will all disappear
For my longing for happiness has left me in despair
Lord free me from these deadly thoughts
Heal me, take away my inner pain
Lord help me find the peace that I sought out for
Get these negative things out of my brain
Stuck in my mind unable to differentiate thoughts from reality
Darkness swarms while i try to save my mentality
Pull me out of this hole..I beg yearning yet patient
I try Thinking of solutions,but my mind remains vacant
Waiting for the day the happiness in me becomes present
Hoping for the day that I am convalescent.
Pancakes
My wife, I remember makes the very best, or she did.
I have to get that through my head.
She is back at the hospital, laying there, not moving.
How did that happen,
I don’t know.
We were at breakfast talking, just talking.
No. She was talking, I never did. I listened.
I wish that I could hear her talk now.
I wish that she would nag at me.
Tell me to do something, anything…
That I do not want to do,
Just so that I can say…
I have done it,
for you.
For you my wife, of many years, numbers illusive with time.
Passing us by faster than we know, that they go.
The ones we love.
They leave us here.
They go where we can not follow.
To their God. To their place.
They depart.
A place called heaven… sounds far…
I want to go.
I want to be with her.
She said He loves everyone,
even me.
She was beautiful, I miss her.
She was everything, God give her back.
Please, … hear me.
Bacon and sausage.
Dogs and music.
Whiskey and a wife's smile.
Sometimes, surely,
it is just that simple.
Lately it has not been.
Not in life, not in fiction,
not in poetry.
One year, maybe three poems.
All about grief.
One imagined, yet real -
a son's song for a father's tale.
Two, too true and too close -
a brother to the scion, a brother to the sire.
Tributes written, loss spoken,
still silent the muse,
on all besides -
stanzas only flowing
when so too the tears.
Yet, my life ended not with theirs;
neither will I let my story.
Not my life's, not my characters',
not my verses.
Songs and stories yet remain,
so too adventure and poetry.
Amidst vowing not to forget the fallen,
I forgot those things instead.
that.
They will see my pen fly on,
for thoughts large and little,
momentous and mundane.
No peace comes from staying my hand.
So I will write, today,
of bacon and sausage.
Of dogs and music.
Of whiskey and a wife's smile.
Today, if no other,
it is just that simple.
Sad times, sad past
Where is that life? What was the dream?
Yes. So many people are losers. I am too.
“You are, too.” Repeated Master Satan.
But I don’t feel it. I'm just going. “Walking.”
Yes, walking. The speed is not realistic.
“Because there is no moving. Works for you.
Only you. Your mind. That’s for the walk.”
Work, walk. Hmm. Work works from walk.
“Yes. In your life. Walk. The creative meditation.”
It’s that, my dear Master Satan. A walk is an indication.
“Indication for what?” For talking. From my soul.
“From your soul.” Yes. Not from my heart. That is ice.
Hmm. Better. Better stay for that—glittering icy mind.
Hail rain. Hail rain drenches my life, my being. It’s my life.
Cold. Hmm. Atmosphere. Special feeling. It’s my life.
Oh, but fragile. I don’t need temperature, then I will die.
No, no. No temperament. Only pure personality, life.
Let me save your life. Temperature is the fire of hell.
Of the hell. Be cold and ice to chill my hellish life.
“Stop. Stop now. You are praying now for a woman.” For a lady.
“In the last two verses. She doesn’t exist. Forget this dream.”
“Forget this wish, love, and dream.” Yes, I just imagined.
But the vision was realistic. “Realistic…. Hmm. “Existed in your life.”
My dreams come from the past. The past created my new dream.
“Sure?” Yes, it is not certain. “Then?” I needed something. “What?” To be.
“So create your dreams To Be.” Hmm. Yes. Imagined. Lives from the future.”
“This is great news. You are there.” Future lives from past and present. “No!”
Lives from my dreams.
And my life.
“Means.
Altogether.”
Thank
You
“That’s
Right.”
He yearned for quiet.
He craved perfect silence.
He pictured himself in some valley,
Abandoned by all,
Resting against some old oak tree,
With no soul in sight.
It was not to be.
All he heard was rustling,
Movement all around the room.
No peace to savour,
Could not even read his lines.
He watched her moving around the room,
Now on the sofa,
Now looking out of the window.
No peace for him.
He looked straight at her,
Eyes baleful and threatening.
“Move off, pest.
Leave me in peace.”
She looked at him,
Eyes hurt and almost crying.
Turning around she left
And ran into his wife’s lap,
Wagging her tail behind her.
Corona rum is on the run
It is causing the men to have fun
Corona rum is strong, it makes the men behave bad
Corona rum is a mixture of Jamaica 's white rum and the
The energy drink call boom
I am sitting on the corner watching Corona disorder
Ten men gather on the corner drinking corona rum
They are screaming and shouting and it hard to tell
What they are arguing about, the group is getting bigger
And corona rum is getting sweeter and the language
gets meaner.Expletive spilling on top of expletives
nasty words dropping from their lips, a sip of corona make the
men behave violent, they are boisterous and loud
And the words dripping from their lips are shameful and decieving
Corona rum is spining in their head and they say that
Corona rum is the only remedy to prevent you from dropping dead
Corona rum is the only remedy that will clear your lungs
It is Sunday and the place is noisy, it is not the usual
Church sound but it is corona rum that is raising havock all over the town
Corona rum is shouting and firing gun,just one sip will
throw you to the ground.They say that it will burn the virus
And fight of the flu, they say that it is a good for me and you
Corona rum is a strong homemade remedy to ward off the virus from you
Some of the men called themselves dread
With long brown hair flowing from their head
It appears as if they are loosing their mind from
a remedy that is strong but deceives the mind
It will throw you to the ground and drag you
All over the town, it is a barefaced strategy in disguise
And it will make heaven weep and cry.
Corona rum is moving around the city in disguise
Dont drink it if you cannot handle it.
The men are acting out of place carona rum is
Spilling from their face, it will clear out the mucus
From your throat and embrace you without a doubt
Carona rum is the best remedy
It will clear your throat and make you shout
Corona is the new remedy in the town.
Dear Whoever:what this thang Need?
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The Doughy Meat Monstrosity of 2026
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Plagal Cadence (Amen Cadence): A staple chord progression moving from the IV to the I chord. Famous for its use at the end of hymns and overtly religious Christmas carols (like "Silent Night").
Secondary Dominant: A technique (like dropping into a
chord) frequently used to build anticipation and give an upbeat, joyful feel, heavily used in "Santa Claus is Coming to Town".
·
Swing Rhythm: A rhythmic feel (long-short swing notes) that gives many upbeat Christmas classics, like "Jingle Bells," a bouncy, playful characteristic.
Lush Instrumentation: The use of bright, high-pitched instruments (e.g., glockenspiels, celestas, and tubular bells) combined with rich strings and brass to create a magical, nostalgic atmosphere.
It got anchovies rell peppers, dough?, lamb, pork,and turkey
olives, it is supoose to have sundried tomatos carmilized onions, garlic, shredded cheese, spinach,swekkered up baked and then BBQ'D.
Does Snata want Shircha and yogurt with cucumber(I Think NOT!)
he bought the bread from S@few@y the frozen loaves, he made them into hoagie rolls big enough for this meaty dough thing. We sauced it up and Ate it.Yeah, Yeah, put brandy in it too!. Mister Mcormick do you think you can help this thing in this seasoning?
Tiss:Tiss, what does it miss?
Dear Whoevcer what to do to make it better?
Sinclerly Yours
Someone in Need of Help