Long Narrowed Poems
Long Narrowed Poems. Below are the most popular long Narrowed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Narrowed poems by poem length and keyword.
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Verse 1
He was new in town, streets lit when he walked,
Blue eyes, easy grin, the world leaned in.
I liked him — thought he was something,
The way he moved, the way he breathed air.
Later, he came in the diner,
I called him over, introduced him to you.
Still clueless, caught in the glow,
Didn’t see the storm rollin’ in.
Verse 2
He didn’t flirt, didn’t have to try,
Just that easy smile, the way he stood.
I watched you melt, quiet and slow,
Eyes soft, defenses fallin’ like wood.
Not a word — just his pull, his ease,
Kindness, charm — like gravity.
My vision narrowed, my soul went still,
Watchin’ through eyes that love you true.
Chorus 1
Booth shaking under my hands,
Air heavy, walls closin’ in.
Your eyes, a tide I can’t hold back,
Pullin’ everything I built away.
My soul splits in silent echoes,
Time slows, each breath a knife.
This heart aches…
Cause that’s what love does.
Verse 3
Next day I watch from the city square,
Your laughter spilling, sun in your hair.
Every glance he gives, you lean right in,
And I feel the weight of what I feared.
Later, you say soft, unguarded:
“I feel tied down… I wanna be free.”
The world tilts, my sight goes narrow,
I swallow the storm, bitter, unspoken.
Chorus 2
I see the pull, the world breaking near,
But my soul holds steady, unwavering, clear.
Every glance, every step, a silent fight,
Anchored in the quiet, the endless night.
This love lasts, through tides and storms,
Through shadows twistin’, lives transformed.
Your thoughts may bend, but I’ll always wait…
Cause that’s what love does.
Bridge
Sweet girl, I’ll let you see…
The wind may pull you, tides may turn,
But this fire I carry will always burn.
It’s in quiet mornings, weightless touch,
The steady heartbeat no one else can match.
It’s laughter held when storms surround,
The hand that holds, unshaken, sound.
You may have doubts, but I’ll always believe
Cause that’s what love does.
Outro
No matter how dark, I see a spark
When morning comes, the sun will rise.
And in the light, you’ll see my eyes,
You’ll feel my heart, and you’ll come home…
Cause that’s what love does…
Sweet girl, you’ll come home
Yeah… you’ll come home…
Cause that’s what love does (what love does)
That’s what love does (what loves does)…
What love does………………..
How do you confess yourself?
Over chicken and rice
In the light of a moment
In laughter and life?
Or is it with warning?
"Please don't be mad."
Trembling lips
Narrowed eyes and red hands
Or is it with silence?
Scribbled words on a bed
Leave for the weekend
Buzzing phone wasting dead
Or is it with defiance?
A mock-up of "brave"
I will not let myself
Destroy me today
Or is it an apology?
"I'm sorry I was scared"
But your tongue is so telling
Your thoughts were so bare.
How do you confess yourself?
In a way that is true
Bare your soul to the people
You hope care for you
She says her love language is food well now you're talking baby
We can go anywhere what shall it be
Texas, Mexico, France, Italy, China, Germany, or maybe some old-fashioned southern hospitality
I know your mind has a hard time deciding, so take your time
What should we eat is a question that should be treated as a delicacy
Our taste buds deserve a vacation because your stomach has a vacancy
The way the hunger is talking to me in Spanish
Slow down so I can understand
I know the frustration is mounting
She says ok I think I've narrowed it down to three
A burger, tacos, or maybe some sushi please
I respond: Mooyahs, Velvet, Tortilleria, or Mr. Chopsticks
I know her usual at each, as well as the second and third options if one is unavailable
I'm still emotionally available for you, right now that looks like food
She responds I want something quick and easy
Mooyahs it is
There's something so inviting about a good burger that makes you do a happy dance while you're sitting still
Medium Rare with everything except onions for her, I like mine all the way dressed
She will get a small fry and then steal some from my large after I told her she should get a medium
It’s ok because what’s yours is mine, and mines is yours
The face you make when you’re hangry I adore
But nothing means more than being full of our love
Soul food tastes like an r & b song, but today it tastes like this burger
p.s. I love our last-minute emergency food dates…
I never go to the doctors much at all.
My new primary inherited me when
my prior doctor left last fall.
I made the appointment because I was sick
and feared I'd been bitten by a Lyme's tick.
When I asked the new doctor to order a
Western Blot, the most accurate test,
this is what I got.
"I've been practicing medicine for thirty years,"
his volume increased as it burned my ears.
"Your blood pressure is high", obvious to see,
and then he proceeded to lecture me...
"Your vessels have narrowed, probably full of plaque.
Your going have a stroke or a heart attack".
This doctor must have thought me deaf or may be just
dense. I got a good dose of his arrogance.
I don't remember asking for a prescription for mean but
he was definitely the angriest doctor I've ever seen.
Well, off to see my cardiologist.
His bed side manner is the best.
Through restless decades I have tried to learn,
From journeys more mute than ready to teach,
Sifting through grains of sand of no concern,
Looking for truths clouded by half-truths’ siege.
Days fill with bustle when I’m keen to delve;
Not enough is gleaned, though I have inquired,
Save some blinkered thoughts of love, life and self,
Of this odyssey, oft the mind has tired.
With narrowed eyes I have tried to behold,
A clear sight of me and the whole true world,
Till one day I found I am grey and old,
And not half the wisdom has yet unfurled.
Long ago I came, a searcher at heart,
In a light incomplete I shall depart.
“I deserve to be happy”
they said, jaws set
determination
eyes glazed
Selfish Ones seeing only
what they wanted to see
tunnel-vision of mind's eye
narrowed down to one word
“Happy”
while others' protests
were utterly unheard
Thinking they could
by sheer determination
set themselves free
from the rest
of society
suspending
laws of nature
like drops of water
falling into a lake
yet failing to make
a ripple on the surface
or rings extending outward
...that their actions
would cause no reactions
outside of themselves
But repercussions
and consequences
shown on faces
in painful winces
worry-lines and tears
from failed investments
of time spent, years
broken beings
bearing witness
to quiet devastation
their lives crowded out
displaced and crushed
by the Selfish Ones'
overwhelming
entitlement
their right
their claim
on the happiness
they so “deserved”
And now the others
also suffer from a sort of
tunnel-vision, mind's eye narrowed
down to the other word
“Deserve”
for what could they possibly
have done to deserve this?
When all they wanted
was a little fragment
a slight share
of happiness in life
with someone
who cared?
Many paths lead away from home, but only one leads back.
As the years sit salted upon the rack.
You find the path home has narrowed.
Turned from gates of dependence to mirrors opaque and black.
You arrive with exhaustion on your boots.
A feast of favorites on a favorite plate.
Go upstairs to your yellow crib.
To ignite those unreachable dreams again.
Things have become slightly slanted.
The faces so unfriendly.
Some are missing altogether.
Replaced by fresh ones, but you don't know their names.
Home is a place where you go back to lick your wounds.
Stay in tune with yesterday.
Until the nest completely blows away.
Nobody knows your name; you're a graying orphan.
A gasoline-splashed stray.
A stranger lives in your nest now.
The whole world plays the jester.
Holding a piece of your ancient flint.
'Twas a dark and stormy night on that dark and stormy night!
HMS Blunderbuss plied the billowing seas just off the Isle of Wight!
Able Seaman Steer manned the helm when dead ahead he saw the light!
He woke the snoozing Officer of the Deck to apprise him of their plight!
Captain Ironbottom (who happened to be in the 'head') was duly alerted!
He dashed to the bridge in his drawers to ensure that disaster was averted!
"By jove!" he cried, "Her Majesty's ships turn aside for no one, I say!"
He grabbed the radio, "Ahoy there! Turn east 15 degrees! Out of my way!"
From out of the ozone a voice retorted, "Suggest you turn west 15 degrees!
I'll not change course for anyone, so heed my warning if you please!"
"This is Captain Ironbottom of the HMS Blunderbuss!" he thundered back!
"I know the rules of the road! Turn now or I'll see you hung from the rack!"
Able Seaman Steers' eyes grew as large as saucers knowing not what to do!
Communication between the captain and the mysterious light was turning blue!
As the distance narrowed between them, neither would give a nautical mile!
The white-knuckled Officer of the Deck was turning pale with a sickly smile!
"This is Captain Ironbottom again! Are you challenging Her Majesty's might?"
"Yes sir" was the reply, "You see, this is the light house on the Isle of Wight!"
Today the mighty HMS Blunderbuss rusts upon the Isle of Wight's rocky shoal.
Captain Ironbottom faded into oblivion due to the folly of his last patrol!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
In the City of Pines, vendors are everywhere. High and low prices are everywhere. The once cool region of overflowing love somehow narrowed its space for the younger generation because of commercialization.
Commercialization, on one hand, helps. On the other hand, synchronization is tantamount to compression, which can be a sign of evaporation.
Nevertheless, many people visit the City of Pines, a wonderful site in the East. Foreigners from everywhere troop to the place to witness and feel the beauty of the living pine trees around the city of Baguio -- "bag-iw" in Ibaloi, indigenous language of the region.
I had my chance of visiting the City of Pines, the home of the famous Rice Terraces. I trekked the rough roads and cliffs of the mountains. So cozy and so relieving. The scent of innocence above the mountains and serenity in waters below the mountains. An ethereal scenery with the breeze of resonating heritage.
The City of Pines is rich in culture and tradition. No one would ever wonder that an indigenous tribe can still exist up to the present time.
The musical instruments being played by the people, the indigenous materials sewn and worn by the people are the pride of the said city.
Many beautiful things and memories can be said about the City of Pines. Like the pines of my birth, very close to my heart.
Through the silence of the years
Time tiptoes in each small story
Another morning wakes with gentle glory
Too quickly, pass the years, ...it is clear
Around me and everywhere I look
Time slips and slides, so close upon the slopes
With mists upon the distant hills....our hopes
Are dwindled down to one small book
Ticking loudly, as down the ridge I climb
Echoes of the time, casting shadows grey
Narrowed down to waning days
A world of clocks, unwinding time
Uncaring clocks, to hear the sound, can be quite hard
Each minute, one by one, ticks-ticks-ticks my life away
The face of time, indifferent, without care, never strikes a last ballet
But, simply carries on, and will tick on, with no regard