Long Needle Poems
Long Needle Poems. Below are the most popular long Needle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Needle poems by poem length and keyword.
Through the eye of the needle,
Not to the left or the right
Dodging both on the comets tail
I streak into the light
My last wish out in front
As words melt in a fiery contrail
And with only one question
To weaken my heart
With only one thing to know
The seasons entwine
All beanstalks are felled
With the exit signs all aglow
I crash through the doubt
Releasing new hope
My affirmation now to reign
And look ever further
Beyond my scope
As my senses become untrained
I feel the loose pieces
Start to come off
A new lightness now abounds
The last burden has lifted
Burning bright in my wake
Crossing over—turned around
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
"The Sleeping Man at the Picnic"
What dreams this man has
to escape a world
where his humanity
is a contagion
soldier ants swagger
holding gangster guns
he’s counting numbers
to avoid the dream
of the one he
shares with
the innocence
of children
Outside the turmoil
we are a pin prick
of light in the
eye of God’s needle
Inside us
the threads of
a road to an
interior universe
so much vaster
unexplored
Our lives
are optical
illusions
We are
all sleeping
at the Picnic
Lost
in the purpose of dreaming
Searching
for the rhetoric in meaning
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Common American Phrase: Suck it up, Buttercup
I shudder and shake with epinephrine as the needle stings inside my cheek, like a bee stings. I’m not a child, I’m a buttercup. The shaking rattles me but I relax until the next invasive… I see a bright light, though very much alive. Wearing glasses to protect my eyes. I close them so I can pray, and try not to pay too much attention to the two surgeons over me. A tooth distraction…a true extraction. The enemy must go, but the battle is strong as are my bones. Good news that grips the root. What’s going on, I can only hear the drill and my droughty lips feel like they are going to split. This is about an hour's procedure, it seems an eternity. The beginning was cold. I’m a retiree who hardly goes out, anymore, in the early morning. Georgia in March was a balmy twenty nine degrees fahrenheit. Hardly an inspiration to get up to have an operation. “Let’s not,” head says but wisdom knows, I must. I bundled up then stripped down as the car warmed up. After going through the ringer, I climb back in my car, and drive another twenty minutes and wait for prescriptions, hoping the pain won’t pop. Then one more stop for another that is cheaper in Publix…the needed antibiotic, Amoxicillin. Sometimes, you feel like you're in a nightmare where you can’t get back home. Patience is called for with a patient. The last couple of miles, I feel as though I’m on a bicycle. Even home, I have to unpack the meds, read the instructions then relax for a couple days, and realise I’m still on that hike…more waiting to eat and drink normal things.
Complaining…perhaps…or merely composing a poetic epitaph. After all, when I was laid back in the dentist’s chair, my jaw being held by the dental assistant, feeling I was inches from being choked to death, I was already writing this in my head, but not at all in the mood to pedal my fingers on the keyboard until these many days later, having been laid out in my wake for those many pain killer days. Don’t think me morbid, perhaps a bit Poe or prosaic. I feel swell…well swelling is down. It’s all downhill from here…that is a good thing. I may even pop a wheelie.
3/17/2023
(For the one who still watches from above)
She wore her faith like Sunday white--
quiet, clean, and always right,
not perfect, no--but kind and true,
and stitched her days with all she knew.
She fed us love in humble bowls,
prayers whispered over weary souls.
She mended things no needle could,
and did her best, and did it good.
When life was hard, she stood her ground,
her voice a soft, forgiving sound.
The world took more than she could spare,
but still, she gave--she always cared.
Now heaven holds her gentle hands,
and I am left to understand
how much of her still lives in me,
how deep her roots still seem to be.
So on this day, I light a flame,
and speak aloud her sacred name.
A Christian mother, tried and true--
the heart of home I always knew.
I miss her more than words allow,
but I feel her near me, even now.
A guiding light, though we’re apart--
her love still anchors down my heart.
The small scar on my face
doesn't reflect the day I flew
Yes, darting through the air
harder than I knew
I had dug my slippers into the tile
and ran as hard as I could
I needed to cause a scene
Disaster if you would
I ran towards the mental health counter
and launched myself into the air
I felt I was fighting for my life
Oh was I really scared
It was days I was in this mental ward
and they just stuck me with a needle
I didn't know what it was
But I had asked them if I would die
So back to me flying in the air
The guard was watching me closely
And after I went airbourne
He tackled me so grandiosely
My head struck the counter
and I fell down to the floor
A group of staff tackled me
Yet I would just adore...
You see I knew that I would live
after making such a scene
But they drugged me, knocked me out
and brought me to the MRI machine
I gained consciousness for a little bit
inside the mechanical trap
but then I'd knock right out
back into a proverbial nap
When I finally came to I was on a bed
And I was accompanied by a nurse
I didn't know if I should feel relieved
or have feelings that were worse
I just know that I did my best
to keep myself alive
For here goes another day
that I will not die
About Lucey, a Ragdoll Cat: Saved from Death
Lucey was my feline dream!
I had never seen such love from a cat's eyes
~ so heavenly stream.
No, I did not find her at a shelter!
She was at the Vet's scheduled for death,
And in dire need of a loving helper.
There she was locked in a cage waiting for
the terminal needle.
Her owner had passed and asked Lucey die,
to be put down too, which I thought that request
was horribly and morbidly feeble.
With my auburn long hair, I knelt down to
this queen, whispering softly,
"Mommy is here!"
Her front paws reached out from the cage,
grabbed my neck, oh, my she was so bubbly!
I had to make my case, as a lawyer does to
spare her client the death penalty!
But to make this poem come to its conclusion,
the Vet did set Lucey free.
She was the only cat I ever had, who just
loved to lie in bed with me!
And purposely watch the raindrops rolling down
the window together!
She was the essence of heaven for me.
I was able to carry her around the house
in my arms.
She'd wrap her paws about my grateful
neck, her body so fluffy and full...total
charm, so warm in my arms!
God took her home quite suddenly, it rent
my heart in two!
All I have left is memories and an astounding
photo, now in words, in this poem, too!
And yes, Lucey! Wherever you are in
God's celestial, eternal universe....
I am fiercely loving and eternallly
grateful for every moment ~
I was so richly blessed, to share with you.
Panagiota Romios
5/4/2019
11pm PST
I can't believe how much I've grown
From the little girl I've known
Who was very scared and shy
Hoping one day I could try
To find others who could be
Part of a community
I was in for quite a while
Showing all my unique style
And behaviors I possess
I just wanted to confess
I felt so lonely each day
Friends would never come my way
When they found out all my quirks
They became ignorant mean jerks
Just because I wouldn't do
Bad things others wanted me to
Like taking drugs to get a thrill
From a needle or a pill
Or drinking till you'd be sick
Isn't something I would pick
Blowing smoke into the air
From cigarettes, I didn't care
To join in any of these
I just wanted to be free
From all this insanity
Sex and partying was not
A part of my wholesome heart
Being myself I would keep
Knowing somewhere way down deep
Others were being harrassed
Being kicked out, it wont last
I'd rather be a geeky nerd
Than part of a stuck up herd
I will find true friends one day
Who wont abandon me and stray
We will have fun never ending
And the vibes we will be sending
To each other will be of
Accepting caring and love
Never once give them a reason to leave
Never once asked for more than what's required
Never once did they think of my feelings
Never once thought you'd be the one to hurt my heart
Never once could you play your role from the start
Never once have I taken you for granted
Never once smiled at your pain
That Never to me was once everything to me
As I watched as she use me then leave me to die
If you'd really love me you'd never say goodbye
But being the over thinker makes me the bad guy
Ion care she repeated that numerous times
Never once batting an eye
Now she who was once my strength
Is the one who is breaking me down inside
Never once thought I won't know where to go or start
Never once thought I'd feel this pain again
Like a needle running through your eyes
Never thought I'd miss the tears I once hide
For me that Never will forever be forever
Never once give up on you when I had reasons to
Cause you were more than what I dreamed of
Never once I let my emotions cloud my judgment
Never tomorrow never today
It was always me and you against the world
Never once thought that gem would shatter
Never once thought to you I wouldn't matter.
Aren’t we the leaves in the towering tree of life
Giving it a diadem with the green grace of foliage.
Are we not the pages of a tome or text of cryptic script
Unable to decipher what scribbles are scrawled on it
With every page bringing unexpected twists and turns.
As I turn the leaves of my life one by one
I see my childhood in great sheen and shimmer,
Like the tender sprouts of spring's splendor
Fluttering and flitting in whispering wind.
In scorching summer sun, got crumpled and curled
At times, twirled and swirled with the needle pricks of rain.
Yet I survived and held hard on to the mother tree,
Weaving dusky dreams even through the bleakest nights
And lifting my glistening gaze to unimaginable heights.
In those times, how I wished to catch the crimson sun
And my mind longed to chase the sudden spark
Never knowing, the faster the light flares into brilliance,
The quicker it is to slide and slip away n' die out as a flash.
When autumn came, strangely I turned wise and wizened
My tenacious attempt to cling on and clutch seemed in vain
One by one as the leaves of autumn drop down
And litter the roads and pathways to be trampled over
I see 'the foliage of farewell' and the one that awaits me
I know well, I too will soon fall and fade and lie lifeless
In the sodden soil or sand, defenceless and desolate.
My dream was never to drift drowsy downstream
But to soar high into the seamless sky like a bird on wings
In the spring of life, love was such a sweet sensation
But now it is watered with saline tears and silent sobs.
Most of my dreams have flown away fluttering like autumn leaves
Those that I once held fast now stay distant as stars of the sky
Sleep, once a visitor who barged in at short notice,
Has become a fading fugitive, giving me dreadful nights.
Yet I turn the pages of my life with anticipation
Until I tremble at the edge of time and tumble down
As the last lingering leaf from the tree of life-
Then I will tell myself- 'neither dusk nor dawn can delude me’.
I am not in dark despair, but in calm contentment,
For I have
Lived
Loved
and
Dreamed
An ordered massif of concrete
in the green Adirondack range,
crumbling Greek amphitheater,
it’s presence strikes the mind as strange.
The chips and cracks throughout the tiers,
the weather worn orchestra shell,
a dry fountain before the stage
where grand tales performers did tell…
Atop is a projector house,
clad in lichen, needle of pine,
for movies from a golden age,
now half-lost to ruin and time.
On shifting paths of pavement cracked,
up an old sidewalk to the hill,
saplings grow where the lodge once stood,
its rooms with New Yorkers filled.
They fled here from limpid summers,
when the heat was too much to take,
well before airplanes and A.C.,
they came to this place on the lake.
Scaron Manor, once so sprawling,
now it stands fallow, gone to scale,
the nine holes, at least, still are clear,
bushy meadows where critters wail.
To the water I stroll leisurely,
the beach of old still is in use,
motorboats moored ten yards off shore,
on the fine sands are scampering youths.
I smile and walk past the fun,
to the big cement walls I do go,
craved right into the lake’s shoreline,
once home to old-school wooden boats.
I stare into this square lagoon,
it’s now all frogs and lillipads,
a child sits near with fishing pole,
has far less nibbles than his dad.
They say it’ll be a campground soon,
with bathrooms put up by the state,
showers and power for RVs,
and I’m not saying that isn’t great.
They’ll even preserve the ruins
so others can look back in time,
but I still wish the lodge was here,
to see what it was in its prime…