Long Moving on Poems
Long Moving on Poems. Below are the most popular long Moving on by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moving on poems by poem length and keyword.
Curious, isn’t it?
Tentatively pacing
Down this narrow path
When what solely surrounds you
Is without form
And shapeless
Yet such an environment
Can only be gradually forged
With each grand step taken
On this very trail
Often you meet with
A harsh fork in the route
And feel yourself unnerved
By knowing you can only choose
But one side to follow
You may rest assured, however,
As those who preceded you
Explain that these complex feelings
Of hesitancy,
Apprehension,
And humane naivete
Shall cause no need for alarm
“Move on,” they say
“Keep moving on, Nature’s little foundling,”
They say that even the end may be daunting
But the best course of action
Is forever carrying forward,
And moving on.
Moving up one's journey uphill,
Though for many a soul a thrill,
Is a scary endless struggle
Verging on a daily battle.
One may expect thorns on the way
And a scorching sun through the day,
One may witness wild winds uphill
With not a spot oneself to shield;
One may expect rough, rugged roads
With no single voice one to goad,
One may expect to face a cliff
Or down a precipice to slip;
One may expect blows from vile men
Or a stab on the back from friends,
Envious of one's seat to take
Or eager to snarl at one's fate.
Moving alone up a steep hill
Calls for zeal, power of the will
Courage coupled with bravery
And the gem of divine mercy.
When our path is shrouded with doubt
Let us give a positive shout
To clear away any dark cloud
That of ourselves we may be proud;
When along a road we do fall,
Let us surely rise after all,
Pursue our journey till the end
With spirit of a real man.
When the top of the hill seems far
Let us think of the distant star
Some billions of light years' away
Shedding light to brighten our way;
Let our end goal be the hilltop,
Instead of a slippery slope,
Gaze at the distant horizon
Where emerges the rising sun.
It doesn’t happen all at once.
The forgetting.
The un-loving.
The soft undoing of a name I used to whisper like a prayer.
It starts quiet.
Like a drawer that won’t close all the way,
a song I skip instead of cry to,
your hoodie in the back of my closet
finally getting dusty.
It starts in silence.
When I stop checking if you watched my story.
When I stop writing messages I’ll never send.
When your face becomes background noise
instead of the whole damn screen.
I used to ache —
physically.
Like my ribs cracked open and you were living between them.
But now it’s duller.
A soreness, not a stabbing.
Like a bruise that’s yellowing.
Fading.
Letting go.
And it’s not because you said sorry.
You didn’t.
And it’s not because it stopped hurting.
It didn’t.
It just changed.
One day I realized
I didn’t miss you.
Not really.
I missed the version of me who believed you meant it.
Who thought forever wasn’t just
something people say to feel less alone at night.
I’m learning
that moving on isn’t fire.
It’s not burning it all down,
it’s water.
It’s waves that keep washing you away
until you’re just
gone.
And some days,
I still reach for you
out of habit.
But most days,
I don’t.
And that’s how I know—
I’m healing.
Not fast.
Not pretty.
But finally.
Anacreontic Verse
With canvas primed
and brush in hand
I stroked on colors
that were not bland.
A shade of blue
like my love's eyes.
His woolen coat,
I painted red,
the one he wore
when he left the note.
It told me
what he left unsaid.
He wrote to me,
"I am sorry
if I hurt you but
this is goodbye."
What a coward!
I didn't cry.
Instead,
I painted
his body yellow.
What kind of fellow
ends it like that?
Painting finished
and sent to his house.
The note attached read,
"This canvas
is for you.
I call it
'Painting of a Louse'."
January 2nd, 2016
Anacreontic Verse 2
Sponsor: Edward Ebbs
I’m contemplating braces
My belts don’t seem to work
They just don’t seem to get a grip
Now I’m of a certain girth
I shop at Marks and Spencer’s
I like their thermal vests
I bought a pair of slippers there
With golden crowns as crests
I watch every weather forecast
The met office App’s my friend
I study all the isobars
To suss the latest trend
When I do the weekly shop
I always get a thrill.
If I’ve brought my “bag for life”
To fill up at the till
I can’t rise from the sofa
Without a grunt or groan
My knees “click” when I stand up
I think my caps have blown
I tend to drink at home now
I can’t afford the pub
I’m a regular down “one stop”
It’s become my social hub
I never miss a bin day
Be it brown or blue or black
I check the council website
That’s just how I keep track
I like routine and order
I wear only matching socks
I get weekly satisfaction
When I sort my dossit box
I know all the cloud formations
When I look up to the sky
Be it stratus, be it cirrus
Or cumulus nimbi
I can’t read labels or instructions
But my phones always on hand
To photograph the tiny text
And expand, expand, expand.
I’m not living at the cutting edge
Though some may call me dull
As I hear the drums of youth recede
I’m looking forward to the lull.
I’ve had it with the greasy pole
I’d rather find a watering hole
Where, on a sun drenched day in June
I’d while away the afternoon.
Life’s journey”s far from over
May these lines not depress
To all my fellow travellers
Its just time to “decompress”
MARTY KING
it has been a long time
spring 10 is here
hope the strange change has not drained you
you are still so beautiful in vision's simplest of forms
i messed the platinum elevation that was us up so much with my bull
forgiveness is a blue ribbon teasing me with her lingering
she disappears everytime reminding me that you have moved on quite nicely
i cannot even look you in the eye
i normally do not get down on my knees
i know that it is far too late, but here i am and here i go
please forgive me in butterscotch waves of sincerity
i am soooo very sorry.....soooo very sorry i am
SHENIKA SIMS
it HAS been a long time
i have prayed for the calmer waters of my temper if i ever did see you again
it took me several therapy sessions and many trips to softer places to get here
i hope that you are safe, healthy, and well
you are still so beautiful in vision's most passionate of artistic expression
yeah, you messed up that magic carpet magic, that is for DAMN sure
forgiveness is like gravity constipated and momentarily stifled at times
with my New Inner Strength and the Growth Within, i can look YOU in the eye
i can also forgive you in butterscotch waves of sincerity
in addition, i can also wish you all the best.....enjoy the rest of your day.....
**Cleaners**
~ O.P.E.N ~
Mon-Fri: 7 a.m. to 8 p.m.
Sat: 8 a.m. to 7 p.m.
Sun: 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.
- 7a.m. 28°C -
It's summer morning,
8 years since then,
I still remember
the scent of that gas
store bought coffee, now
in a new location.
I was 19 at the time but
I felt 30 observing the
passersby, stuck behind
the cash register.
It's a funny thing,
the memory of my first
job feels hypnotic as if
I never left. The cobwebs
in the corner of every door,
the cold air seeping through
the cracks of the window,
the lightbulb above
the entrance flickering
day and night,
the uneven bricks
stumbling every insect
and human alike as
they creep inside and
that same cigarette bud
is still outside the door.
My eyes avert straight
ahead and this tall
tree stares back at me.
Above its branches,
that boy's shoes had
fallen from the tele-
phone wire and rested
alongside the trunk.
I always wondered,
"why did he never
come back?"
I realized something,
"why did I always
stay behind?"
Just as the shoes
were tarnished by
the years so did I.
That boy stayed
young as I aged
along the years.
Now, the cleaners
shut down and
I'm forced to leave.
I take off my shoes
and hang them on
that same telephone
wire. I wave the tree
goodbye and dissipate
into the air with
the once lit cigarette
and that boy from
many winters ago
2.19.18 ~ 6.30.26
Mere faith in oneself
is not enough to build strength,
confidence makes one thrive;
leave all failures on the shelf!
Fear makes a liar shrive,
he's afraid of a wavelength!
Survival is not frivolity,
rather a required amenity
to instill confidence in us;
take grit and defy doubts!
Plan ahead your long-dreamed journey,
either in outer space or on high seas;
captains are never afraid of dangers:
how thrilling can be a new discovery!
Do I have an unabating regret to promptly confess?
It lies in this wincing and baffled soul so restless!
Adventure should have evinced my true excitement;
did anyone perceive the eagerness that wasn't silent?
My memories of you were like trauma personified
For years my mind could not run from the pain and hide
I took the remnants of your chaos in my stride
Wishing I had rather been a runaway bride
In 2015
Where you were a golden apple out on display
But inside reaked of rotten decay
Shut behind closed blinds far away
No one knew the solemn struggles I endured every day
Until I left
I've chatted to your new wife, lnformed her of our past
And of our demise and why I ran away so fast
And of your abuse of which she did not ask
And of your toxic masculinity she knows well of
I forgive myself for not having the foresight
And for the futile patience I had waiting for it to be alright
I forgive myself for trying too hard
To make sweet lemonade instead of discard
The bitter lemon
I made peace and let go of my survivor's guilt
I break down the protective wall my heart has built
I thank my parents for my independence
Back to the present belongs my mind's attendance
I thank women in society for role modeling self-respect
Showing the world we too can be our life's architect
I praise women who stood up and left the abuse
Showed the world that gender based violence has no use
I no longer allow my mind's erosion
I discard traumatic memories with all its emotions
Finding God's peace became my new devotion
As I move on from 2016's commotion.
He is someone else's problem now. May she too find peace.
My mind explodes with new thoughts
Leaving behind all my teachers who taught
Waking in an unusual bed
Living life by my last thread
Waking beside someone brand new
But telling him I love him, and meaning it, too
In a new state not knowing anyone
Waking everyday to a brand new sun
Running our household our own ways
Looking forward to brand new days
Being the wife I knew I’d be
Seeing life on a new level I never did see
New responsibilities, new whole life
Being with my other half --- his little wife
Listening to all the words he taught me
Moving on now --- so soon to be
Scared as hell but open so wide
Tired of running and exhausted from hide
Finding answers to my everlasting questions
But being with him in some way destined
I knew I’d love him, I knew I’d be proud
Shouting, “I love you,” in a crowded state so loud
He’s got a beautiful mind and a beautiful soul
I’d pay millions of dollars but never a toll
I’ve been waiting so long for him
Being broken and alone in myself to ‘fend
So many adventures so little time
When he is my reason and I am his rhyme
An opportunity too great to deny
But at the same time so eager to fly
Scared as hell about new surroundings
The only sound is my excited heart pounding
Away from my family, away from my friends
But slowly trusting him as my broken heart mends
So many smiles so less tears
I haven’t smiled this much in years
I want to make a difference --- a permanent mark
He’s brightened my days --- no more misty dark
I see a future with his name
Being just with him --- no more living in shame
I’m so happy, babe, that we’re together
Now you and I can start over ---