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.


Turning Anguish Part 1

5/21/11-5/22/11
I rule over the night
undaunted with all my might
I have time to spare all I can bare
Watching the hand chime 
tugging…pushing…shoving
through whirling toil
that feed the spoil
Perplexing strife
refusing to give up 
Power and torment 
 
We are too caught up in our own power
and ruling over each passing moment
each passing night…destroying the twin towers
 
Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?

I’m tossed…shifting around with uncontrolled anguish 
Zipping…tripping over rambling bolts
spiraling into a mad house
Don’t enchant your intolerable voice
I see no love dwelling in this household
Do you seek for your power…
you insufferable traitor?

Seeking our upcoming doom
brewing strife in the heap of ruins
brewing strife while we still leave room
to obey and remain under power
You are assuming the worst 
father…mother…
rule over the passing anguish…circling around
stumbling around…not aware 
Hey you! play fair

Behave and stay awhile
before you feed the fire that holds sheer vile
Allow love to not be thrown away
into another pile

I grasp no love engrained 
In our giving garden
that plants ceaseless approval  
Pardon my faults
I was far from comforting sleep

Dread is driven mysteriously 
Through an endless night
Moving on the tracks 
Forming into an alarming train

Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?
Who did the labor suitably?

worthwhile father…pleasure-seeking mother
Don’t enchant your intolerable voices
and expect us to listen sensibly 
Demanding us to do labor
and assist our displeased neighbor
Why do you melt the delight away?
Throwing away a flavor of ecstasy
and put us to glove-less labor
without putting our favor and opinion
into the overlooked pile

Burning agony
dries the buried glee
Saved for a grieving moment
Playing like a warped tune… unable to express
solitude that develops in the heart
raped by the ragged uncertainties 
without taking heed of our pleas

These desirable moments
Cherished in the deplorable journey 
They weren’t acknowledged by power
Love in those days were brand new
Do you have a clue?
they were cherished...
Bountiful…
stranded in a deserted past
in merciful beauty…caught under the spell

Where did that come to pass?
Where’s the love?
Who’s doing all the blaming?
Who’s choosing our faults?


Premium Member Intrusive Thoughts

Written: June 07, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh

            ********************

The Phantom Choir

In the quiescence of last Sunday,
Prophecy heralded the hour past two,
I heard a whisper at hibiscus dawn—
a seamless voice I swore I always knew.

In blissful flutter—it said night was wide,
Chrysalis sorrow stirs a bed for fools,
that in the hush, when hearts collide,
The lost willows are left to wade in pools.

Facing the kernel until the street thinned,
And my shadow’s sepals bled away,
Rusted voice strings within me spoke again—
It's hymn frills poised for slow decay.

The Hollow Pact

Will I wake to descry my cracked mind,
emptied of all its sharpened teeth?
Will murky echoes break their binds,
Or gnaw beneath the sheath?

The alchemy battle sparks, but I am dust—
wispy strands, a soldier tied in flimsy chains.
Each idea erodes the periwinkle ones I trust,
while the weight of stress remains.

You graze me with a maze—why do I stand so still?
Resurrection of the soul—so why shake your hands? 
But dread can have its way to fulfill—
The transcendence of love is lost in vicious demands.

The Third Mourning

Wise chakras buried beneath the walls I built,
the zen voice still scrawls its wordless plea.
It concedes my yantra’s vulnerability, my guilt,
peers where peacock pleadings wane into a spree.

It hums inside the tremors of sapphire light,
I close my eyes as it runs over lily-filled shorelines.
Bits of lunar-glazed silver dust grow in quiet nights,
and procrastinated pledges become lies.

In my dour dreams, it tells me not to resist—
“You know that silken shivers favor sound.”
Amid cyan azure peace, I learn misery persists,
for flickers of love fear the burial mound.

The Acoustic Waltz

In nocturnal dryness—sing soft verses in the dark,
claims the enamored inked words are not hers.
She plucks cerulean hymns without leaving a mark,
The tune of her carved kohl was lost in slurs.

She sways in the russet yarns of neon glow,
bows beneath the ricochet’s wild haze—
a phantom waltz in katabatic motion, moving slow.
a cosmic voice garden, too faint to truly be a maze.

Her pocket holds a ring of black gem glass,
won as a child’s dare, a piece of smitten ink.
She warms it, sighs, and watches it pass
through flaming flecks—hands that fight to sink.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Looking Back

Dedicated to my children who have kept my dreams alive.

LOOKING BACK

We can’t go back
To the days of yesteryear
To capture those lost feelings
With those whom we loved so dear

I am just looking back to see
Where all of my dreams first start
You know those deep seeded dreams
Buried way down deep in your heart

I’m not trying to revive a lost love
That I once had forty years ago
Or even trying to replace the twenty years
Of not seeing my grandchildren grow

There were times of much struggle
Filled with pain, fear and torture
It was the love I had for my children
That developed my strength to endure

My children only remember the 2nd set
Of twenty years that have come and gone
When they were all moving out on their own
And when all of the grandchildren came along

It’s like I was locked in a rock
Throughout those 20 to 40 years
Not able to see my grandchildren
Filled my heart with so many tears

The bitterness you feel towards me
Is understandable and really okay
My children, you all have the right
To your feelings and to feel that way

I have finally made the escape
Since that rock has split wide open
I want you all to know who I really am
I haven’t changed at all, only my situation

The gift of feelings we have in our heart
Whether right or wrong, just happen
It matters not what others may think
We should let out our own self expression

No feelings are really ever wrong
In another’s view or even our own
Our thoughts trigger our feelings inside
The feelings we have are ours alone

Looking back strengthens my heart
Reminding me I want to pass along
To all of you, just who I really am
Before my time on earth is gone

One day I hope you will realize 
With you I have always been
Filling you up with that extra love
You may have noticed you’ve been given

You have all filled up
 Such a big part
Of all the dreams
Living in my heart

My best friend Grace, reminded me
That our feelings are meant to be and to last
God wouldn’t put the dreams in our heart
If He didn’t plan to bring the dreams to pass

My dreams haven’t changed
I am not letting them go
They are for new adventures
With new beginnings of tomorrow

Now that I’m looking back
I’m so glad to have survived
I know now, my love for all of you
Has always kept my dreams alive


Florence McMillian (Flo)
Form: Narrative

Somebodys Child

“I am somebody’s child, and I need attention, I am somebody’s child and I need affection, I am somebody’s child and I need love and devotion”, she murmured as she walked through the door. She wasn’t sure where she was going when she left the house; she wasn’t sure about the next encounter, but she walked for five hours until she reaches the border. 

The speed, at which she moved, left everyone confused but she was determined to make a point just to stay alive. She did not plan a journey she just wanted to live, and hang out with the daffodils but the trap was already set before they made the bet. She could sense it from within and so she had to learn to swim; with strength in her arms and strides in her feet, she made it through the dark before the break of dawn. 

They searched everywhere for her, but they could not find her, the public became aware of it and they start to build a myth. Officer Jones devised a plan to begin the search mission he knew what he had up his sleeve, because he was so hard to please. He had laid the ground work to start digging up dirt, to catch the big fish and throw them back into the ditch, the climate was right and the alibi was riding high in the sky. 

The search went on for days with no sight of her abducted in the bush or held captive by the brook; it was just one of those situations where you have to keep on top of things before the universe done you in. 

The cheese, and the pie, the crown and the dye were just too reveling so they had to search for another meaning, and the sky was their only hope to keep sailing on the boat and so the narrative changed to give her all the blame. 

 Was it a crime torn area or someone lost their way and bumped into a criminal flattering in the sky that is a one-hundred-dollar question from a village miner who could not fit the pieces together for the director or the operator. 

And so, the question remains, whose back was she trying to cover? My mind wander and wander and it didn’t look like a deal that turned sour, neither was it a set up by gate to discover something before it was too late. Everything seems to be in perfect harmony with the guitar, the piano, the band and the musical director. 

The great Gatsby would have won the case if Tom Buchanan had not shot him in the pool over the death of Myrtle Wilson his darling wife.  "I am somebody’s child," she screamed.

Premium Member 'before My Pen Is Hushed'

Before my flowing, poetic pen is hushed in Quietus,
And I have reached my journey's end with folded hands;
            Departed into my dreamless sleep beneath violets,
Let me write one everlasting, eternal, immortal verse;
                  Of the ravaged garden of my life.

      I want to hear a bird song when I quietly glide away,
With a sigh, I will lay my pale form down peacefully;
            I have willed my Keepsakes and my musing poems,
The Angel of death, will take my hand into another realm;
                  And the drums of time will cease.

      Oh, it has been a life full of happiness entwined with sad,
I have travelled many different roads to get to Tranquillity;
           The chapters of my life are full of the dead and undead,
Memories of childhood, family, friends and pets I loved;
                  The scars of life stab my soul.

      I do not fear death and I am ready to go through the gate,
But I will miss nature, the woods and the waters moving;
            And as I walk the silent passage alone to my eternal night,
Think of me as being set free and soaring high up above;
                  I lived a life weather-stained with tears.

      Leaving life is something we all must do; it is written,
I was held by a thread in this earthly realm until that last gasp;
            Now, all I know is the peacefulness of a leafy tree above,
Drifting blue clouds and rain falling gently on my resting place;
                  I was a shadow on the wall of time.

      Do not weep over my eternal grave heartbroken my dears,
I have followed the beautiful Angels footsteps to heaven;
           My poetry is timeless, ageless, and will always remain,
I have shed this earth bound life and I am a butterfly set free;
                  I drank from the deep blue cup of life.

      So come, dear hearts and plant some pretty flowers in Spring,
I am at last united with all my beloved who have gone before;
             Touch my name and remember me for my beauty,
And although my life was but a whisper, I loved every moment;
                  Now, I exist in another realm.

____________________
August 26, 2015


Poetry/Epic/'Before My Pen is Hushed'
Copyright Protected, ID 15-1216-704-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Submitted into FGI  Blog Special - Epic
Brian Strand

Podium Place 1
Form: Epic


You are Love and Light wrapped in Starlight and Stardust and Magic

Inspired by the moving life experience of a teenager. You are not alone. Please don't isolate yourself. 

You are Love and Light wrapped in
Starlight and Stardust and Magic
By Michelle Morris
22/07/2025

He found your beauty alluring
Your innocence captivated his predatory instincts
He'd done this again and again
Leaving broken girls in his wake

They would stay in the Abyss
That Darkness he created
So often feeling isolated
So often feeling helpless and alone

If they would only realise
That they are still Beautiful
Pure Souls in vessels harmed
Battered Hearts wrapped up in shame

No person can take away your Soul
No person can take away your true Power
For it is all part of you
The Magic that you are

Your body and mind will heal
It just takes a lot of time and patience
Forgiveness of yourself
Acceptance and facing those demons

Your Heart will recover its beat
Your Soul will once again find its music
Your Song that is forever your Song
Your Energy that is forever your Energy

So, remember these words, my love
You are Love and Light wrapped in
Starlight and Stardust and Magic
You are the Miracle - you are the Miracle

I can't save you or walk your Path
I can only be here when you need me
I can't do the work for you
But I can support your Path and Growth

I can sit with you in the Abyss
Help navigate your way through the Darkness
I can provide Comfort and Compassion 
I can hold you close and give you Warmth

But at some point you have to do it
You have to rise from the ashes like a Phoenix
Spread your Wings and fly Free once more
Embrace your Power and your Passion

You are stronger than you know
And you are never alone on your Journey
We Women are connected throughout Time
We are One in our Feminine Power

No one can take away our Worth
No one can take away our Power
We are rare and infinite Creators
We are Divine Blessings to the Universe

See us all around you
The Spirit of the Women
See your Angels and your Guides
They Protect and Guide your Way

May your Heart beat with Joy and Peace
May your Soul hum its perfect Music
May your Song keep inspiring your Voice
May your Energy keep flowing with Source

And don't forget these words, my love
You are Love and Light wrapped in
Starlight and Stardust and Magic
You are the Miracle - you are the Miracle

© Michelle Morris, 2025

Nothing Really Matters

Lately everything seems to be surrounded in darkness
Either I am way too close or too far away
When I stand close I perfectly see the flickering light ahead
How close it is but when I reach it.. it just disappears
I can't seem to grasp anything that's around me anymore
When I touch it, it just turns to ash... 

Seems I have lost the will to do much anything
Sometimes I find myself starring at white walls..
I forgot to think.. maybe I will forget to breath too

The image of the world in my head.. is so different from what I see... with my eyes
Is reality an allusion or is the world in my head.. 

Darkness surrounding everyone I stand close to
You see them fade in and out like a hologram
When you reach out to touch them.. they are not real
Sometimes they just.. disappear 
Then I find myself searching for what I used to know

Seems the world in my head.. is not so bright and colorful anymore
Either everyone is stuck in the past with me.. or they are moving forward..
I am watching them pass me by as I stay within the realm I am used to knowing

No matter how many times I change my appearance..
Everything stays the same... and I realize..
All the people I know.. 
In the end. .. nothing really matters...

Everything you knew..
Everything you have touched..

Everyone you have loved
Everyone you once cared for

All the lessons you learned...
what are they for?...

Is it better to be... alone..
Where there is no pain in a relationship with another..
I can no longer get close to anyone..
I find myself.. stepping further and further back
Yet I cannot stop myself... there is no rope to grab..

Which world would I rather live in.. the one i see with my eyes.. or the one in my head...

They both have become.. one of the same... covered and smeared in blood.. 
Darkness...

I have no reflection in the mirror.. and I can feel my soul slipping from within me
All I see.. is cracks.. where my soul is leaking its way out..
Yet no band-aid or super glue.. could help cover it

Hallow...

Nothing can save you now.. because you realize... the truth..
Once your world is coming to an end.. it wont matter.. 
You will not remember.. you wont be able to feel.. 

Somehow, even with this darkness and being surrounded by darkness
Having the feeling of comfort and a blind happiness

Everything is perfectly where it belongs...
Form: Lyric

The Path I Seek

I seek not to be a presence. Forces beyond my control dictate the interactions I will have with those who come across my path. These forces disturb me in ways that I cannot understand, yet I react to them with efficiency. 

Subtlety is not one of my traits. Even now, I am poised to move in the direction to which I am called. It is a direction that could have great impact. Although I may waver in the course set before me, I am nonetheless committed until another force impedes me. 

On the path I seek, I can see farther than one can imagine. Even though I only have one eye, it is an eye that is clear, an eye that makes a statement. You would think that having only one eye, any spinning and turning I do would make me extremely dizzy. Nay, say I, I move ahead on the path I seek. 

On course, on time, and always considering my wall. It is not a wall to jump over, or to keep me from something or someone. Instead, it is everything and everyone else who would need or want to have a wall equivalent to mine. Theirs would be a wall to keep me from them. 

The path I seek can be strewn with objects that tend to slow me down. Nonetheless, I struggle against them, and keep surging forward. I depend on my own wrath and fury to keep me moving ever closer to my stated purpose, whatever it may be. At some point, I know I will lose all ability to continue down the path I seek. 

Along the path I seek, I watch events unfold before me with my one eye. It is an eye that, while surrounded with moisture, does not blink, shows little mercy, and does not cry. It does not cry even as my wall begins to crumble. The crying is only left to those dear beings I leave behind along my path. 

I wish I could feel the lives I touch but, the harsh truth is, I have no feelings. I am a creation that will never know what a feeling is. And thus, no love, no hate, no joy, no sadness will stay me from the path I seek. 

Alas, my wrath and fury are destined to die a slow death as I continue along the path I seek. I will not be missed, but I may be remembered. I will surely be cursed and called a monster. 

And before my eye finally sleeps, I get one last peek at where I have been. 
Still, I cannot cry over the destruction and anguish I have wrought during my passing. I only know that I will come this way again, because that is what hurricanes do along the paths they seek.   
END
Form: Narrative

Bat Crazy 5



"Bat Crazy 5"


Some say

she was batsh** crazy
life hits the windscreens 
in the labyrinth of life
that way

the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand 
holding hard-gripped the gear stick

an upwards inflection, “You know”,
in the Queen’s Land, "all under control"
the open palm under the shaft
moving all the way up to 5, 

reflecting on the mirror rearview
she watches the eyes
of her child
dreaming of open highways

the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick

never once moving from 5 
the left all the way up to targa 5
right hand up on the wheel
left hand down right up to 5

windows spitting emeralds
like a baphomet 
the two finger salute
the other above so below

watches on

"here we go again",
the 1 above it all 
watches on 
as above so below

that 1's long-suffering 
that way, aghast, but resolute, 
that 1 has never-ending reserves 
of eternal patience

and watches on 
perplexed

her mind geared on 
how to kill off 
a spider 
and his sister, next

changing lanes
easier said than done
when you're hell-bent on 
Freedom

the highway sign 
Happy New Year 
flashes ever onwards by, 
foot to the floor 

left brain baffled
at forgiveness
at Christmas 
long gone by 

right hand on the wheel
left hand down 
open palmed 
shifting gears 

accelerating increduality
towards the accuracy 
in the justice of karma 
drivers sitting on both shoulders

inside the vehicle 
holding the wheel
the internal speaks
to the universe 

listening 
for kindness 
and answers
on a lost highway

Blue Sky 
nods, as if in agreement,
that 1's always amused -
but never confused, that way

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)






“Is it possible to switch dimensions? 

There is currently no conceivable way to get to these if they exist, and they may only be possible, not actual. To travel between realities, they need to be in proximity. To be in proximity and not interact, they need to be incompatible. If it is a compatible universe you could travel to, it is already here.” 



"Won’t you let me know, 
if you made it home that night
Oh won’t you let me know
If our bones made it home alright..."
Form: Narrative

Before the Gates of Alahsar - Original Version - 4

4.

Now things started to become clear,
Both Alahsar and Salahmar in the same space,
One would find Victory, the other, leave this place,
light and dark in the eternal battle.
Alahsar, of God's light,
Salahmar, of dark's evil joys,
which of them would wane away?
Devil's fear, or Heaven's glory.

For Alahsar, the city of light,
mortals, their lives laying down,
numbers falling as Algahrs push forward,
is this the end of light, hearts filled with hate.
From the golden gates a mighty moving,
women, they come forth with speed,
hate filled eyes and trembling cries,
yelling out their cry of war.

Still the foe were many more,
the Algahrs always to the front,
mightily they begin their push,
the might of dark within each beast.
Too hold the foe would take great strength,
strength was fading, ebbing away,
the Algahrs now did mighty push,
death and destruction on Badicha lay.

Still mortals stood, though blood did flow,
man and woman, power decreasing,
children watch from mighty walls,
as parents and friends meet their end.
Dark Man fighting, vengeance dear,
Warrior Queen spreading fear,
the bloodiest scene before the gates,
blood for blood,by sorrow's river.

Utamol, with almost life of own,
cutting, slicing, stabbing home,
Dark Man with his awesome grace,
Sends evil from this land of light.
Warrior Queen with power and speed,
destroying all this evil seed,
cries of pain are everywhere,
so many lost, their dead eyes stare.

On the plain great dust clouds rising,
screams of mortals and beasts fill the air,
lightning flashing, thunder crashing,
onward the struggle of life goes on.
Within the heart of living terror,
weapons crashing, teeth a-gnashing,
will miracle come to Badicha?
Shall mortals halt their slow retreat?

Alahsar's own are falling back,
dead and dying are underfoot,
now mortals they must hold the foe,
forward warriors, toe to toe.
No battle ranks or strategy to follow,
Hold position and strike down the foe,
Dark Man now in heat of battle,
Arlaghs feel the hate of Utamol.

In this time before time,
sorrow's song, the last song to be sung?
Strike with rage, power and might,
Become battle Gods, the power of light.
Cry goes up, "Walk in the light,"
the arms are weary, still fight for life,
still the battle crashes on,
what end shall be, before the dawn.

To Be Concluded..........

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