Long Namesake Poems

Long Namesake Poems. Below are the most popular long Namesake by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Namesake poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Lake Side Church

The Lake Side Church
David J Walker

The Lake Side Church reminds me
That Jesus walked on water
Jesus fed fish to the 
Uncounted multitudes
Jesus calling out to Peter 
and his brothers 
to abandon their boats and nets 
and follow Him

The Lake Side Church reminds me
God separated the 
Waters from the dry lands
in the same way
He parted ways 
with the lights of the
nights and days
And created the 
Woman from the man 
In the dry dust on hand
made in various colors of clays 

The Lake Side Church reminds me
That Noah build an Ark on dry land
And no person would understand 
The parade of animals who did

The Lake Side Church held 
Saturday picnics on 
Namesake shores
People dressed in white 
In boats without oars
Begging to be baptized 
Before the Rapture that 
Could come any day
Form: Rhyme


I Just Want To Talk About Heaven

Her family named her Julie
She was brought by Heavens grace
Never thought that they could have a child
So Heaven’s her nickname

She was perfection at its finest
Said a young boy to this girl
He knew that he'd found Heaven
Told her she was his whole world

She blushed and smiled, without worry
Knowing trust was his strong suit
Said there's something you should know
That I'll only share with you 

She said Heaven is my nickname
It's known only to a few
He never doubted for a minute
Said she was the living proof

I just want to talk about Heaven
Her pretty eyes and auburn hair
Its not the name her daddy gave her
But it's the one she loves to hear

While perfection eludes many 
Her smile and soul keeps shining through
I love you more than life itself
He said there's Heaven…and then there's you

Finding Heaven isn't easy
Most are lost and can't be found
Yet this girl was all the proof he'd need
He thought she walked on hallowed ground

I just want to talk about Heaven
Her pretty eyes and auburn hair
Its not the name her daddy gave her
But it's the one she loves to hear

He didn't need to find forgiveness
From the love that he had found
For it went on ever endless
Till they laid him in the ground

He just wanted to talk about Heaven
Said he'd wait for her up there
Your the namesake of the place, where there are no mistakes
And eternity we'll share

He just talked about Heaven........
Form: Lyric

Premium Member The Namesake

The home nestled in the hue of the blue hills,
on the wall of my longing there hung a mirror,
opened my one way window on the wispy sky,
like a bird I spanned with the wings of youth.

In the winds of the waning time I flew away far,
at the luring end of the memory lane lighted,
the nest I had kept abandoned for a long while,
I nurtured in the fondness of a nostalgic niche.

Soaring above the strata of clouds of many skies,
reached the edge of the horizon of the spent sun,
where flow of flight stopped at the twilight hour,
the whirlwind whispered the homecoming song.

The wheel of time turned on dry dust of the past,
with the southern wind I rose, flew home joyous.
I looked into the old mirror, obscurely clouded,
saw my namesake, much younger, I’ll never forget.

September 21, 2019

Premium Member The Guv'Ment Wants To Change My Name

Unruly rabble demolished statues of General Robert Lee.

Now, the politically correct clique is a-comin' after me!

My name is Robert Lee as well and 'twas so inopportune,

That I be associated with the General, my name to so impugn!

The mob wants to eradicate anything to do with General Lee,

Includin' his namesake little old insignificant me!

Besides all of that I'm a Yankee born in the Hoosier state,

And had nothin' to do with the Rebel Cause I'm happy to relate!

So any of you fellers named Stonewall Jackson or John Bell Hood,

Hunker down 'cause a request to change yer name is a likelihood!

Robert Lee (Hinshaw)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Maze

she had lost the plot long before in an insane labyrinth of her mind

trapped in the rat race of high speed and the volume on full blast

incarcerated shackled and straight jacketed thumb screws and all

contorting denial delusion and psychedelic support to no valid avail

and the wall of her self-imposed prison was barbed with wire of pain


the maze of synaptic connections discharged commands of unreason

torturous wheels of cognition failed to balance fierce contradictions

twisting and hurting she succumbed to a myriad of fake solutions

turning the tourniquet tight to receive the message of brown sugar

winding serpentine paths misconstrued from temptation and promise


and still the garden remained a wasteland of intemperate indignation

she had fallen off the wagon so many times that the engine had stalled

sinews lay bare under a sinuous array of purulent scars and punctures

a tattered puzzle of perplexed bewilderment awaiting the ultimate shot

the heroine submerged in near namesake poison in face of the needle


as the epitaph neared completion and the funeral cortege proceeded

she prayed and surrendered to a white knuckling ride of withdrawal

dragons danced with cold turkeys on her tomb stone but they refused

to relinquish hope for affronted vultures puked at sight of her ghost and

she recalls near death experiences and abstinence as a miraculous gift

25th June 2020


Premium Member Little Wolf Meets Little Wolf

Little Wolf met her namesake this week at Apache festival with her brother.
They were together all week, running from one booth to another
Can we keep him? She asked her father, a chief and her mother.
I will keep him at my house, offered her giving grandmother.

Little Wolf, wolves need to stay in their packs, and run free.
You would not want your companion to be sad, you see.
Give him your best wishes, and he will visit from time to time.
But no one can truly say a wild animal “is mine”.

They parted ways, Little Wolf and Little Wolf, kindred souls.
But they always remembered they had likewise goals.
Connecting during star hours in their deep sleep.
Without making a sound, not even a peep.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Just-suppose '

Now i ask all humble.!!! You might just suppose.? That for an instance.' The situation a'rose.' Like its namesake does
From dug dung.' Fragrant and pleasing to
The nose..Also to
( the three who are yet one!) 
I ask you just suppose? That some 
Judges who are older.? And well versed at
Legal things..Maybe even generals.? If only
Two t'would be a thing! Mayors and police
Captains, and buisness folk at large spoke out that they craved for better.' In their land
And in their towns in their streets and on the borders, from New York to county down, from Melbourne to
 Montenegto..Kinchaza to 
Beijing town.. From Moscow to Montreal.. No more vanity as of kings.? Here I will mention Maria Farmer and Fiona Barnet too..As why did i not mention the FBI.? As i call 
Invessantly for some  to come through..)

Premium Member Theeby's

Sixty years have passed.
No one knew how to spell its name.
No one knew when it first opened.
It was forever, like the infernal summer heat.
It stands indelible at the end of my street,
at the end of my episodic hippocampus. 	
Everyone congregated at this cozy corner store,
this neighborhood fount for stories, jokes,
convenient food and cheap toys. 
There were only a few shoplifters,
usually snarky boys slightly older than me.
They were never caught. 
The guy behind the counter 
never caught anything he didn’t want to see.
Perhaps the store’s namesake,
he worked slavishly, anxiously alone.
One frantic day, he spotted vomit on the floor.
Bolting into the backroom,
He returned with mop and pail
only to find the mess entirely missing.
Snickering, snarky boys hid their latex toy.
A harmless prank, some would say.
But somehow, in my tenth year
I felt sorrow for the overworked man.
Nothing ever changed.
It all lingered like the infernal summer heat,
the gripping stillness of eternal summer.
This neurotransmitter of neighborly connections,
This hub of gab and gossip, 
Home to my first financial transactions,
Home to penny candy, bubblegum cards, and Mars bars.
Home to grape soda, Twinkies, and Wonder Bread.
No one knew how to spell its name.
No one knew when it permanently closed. 
But the potent sugar-coated flashbacks 
                                             have lengthened my life.

Premium Member Focal Point

FOCAL POINT

should we focus on his nude frame -
so muscular, so prominent,
private parts an extension of his serpentine scarf

or the ruddy lyre,
with its cheeky color,
plucked by rapturous fingers

or the unbridled wildlife,
pointed precariously
at pulses of vulnerability,
sensuous and sadistic

the pink flamingo,
ready to cobra-strike
at his curvy buttocks

the king of jungle lore,
ready to take his namesake,
to render him an eunuch

the wart-ridden crocodile
breathing on his achille’s tendon,
prepared to wrestle him to the ground,
as this god-like man’s potency slips away

remaining calm, his finger psalm
lingers.  he waits for the danger to abate

perhaps this harp of hell, must continue
on and on, unrelenting

his suit of flesh, perfectly manicured,
never to touch another virgin

he bows, his self-erected shame
immortal, in pain

10/10/2017
Poems that paint a picture - 4
Sponsor: Silent One

Hooray We Are Expecting

Princess Snowflake
Your about to fulfill your destiny
Said the midwife. You need to take
A break
Your going to have your own family.
Princess Snowflake
In six months you will bring in to this world
Your husband's namesake
Talk about authenticity.
Said the midwife. You need to take
More walks around fairy lake
Plus get ready your baby's nursery.
Princess Snowflake
Right now the stakes
Aren't high but you will have to be relieved of
Duty.
Said the midwife. You need to take
The stress off your husband Prince Drake.
Tell him this pregnancy isn't an urgency until
Your baby is ready to come then you will have
Exclusively a royal celebrity.
Princess Snowflake
Said the midwife you two go celebrate with a
Steak.

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