Long Neil Poems

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


Premium Member My Favorite Number

I was born on July 20, 1958.

Being one of seven children and having a mid-summer birthday, even as a young boy, it was 
not uncommon for my birthdays to come and go without much fanfare.

In the winter of my Fifth Grade year at school, we had an assignment to write a short-story.  
I was already in love with writing way back then.  My short story was on a topic that was 
very much in the news at that time and a very interesting and exciting theme for a young 
boy.  I wrote a short story about me being the youngest astronaut in the space program and 
being selected to be the first astronaut to walk on the moon.  I was aware at the time, that 
the US and USSR were in a Cold War race to be the first country to achieve that lofty goal 
and I knew it was bound to happen soon.  To make my story even more special, I wrote that 
this wonderful event would take place over the coming summer, on my birthday!

Well, lo and behold, as the winter turned to spring and spring turned into summer the Apollo 
11 space mission launched from Cape Canaveral carrying three astronauts, two of whom 
were targeted to walk on the moon.

As my 11th birthday approached, without any notice from anyone else, I watched in awe as 
the Apollo 11 made its way to the moon.  On July 20th, 1969, the lunar landing module, 
Eagle, set down on the moon!  I remember expectantly waiting for the astronauts to be given 
permission to exit the Eagle and step foot on the moon’s surface as the hours of my birthday 
ticked down.  

It was about 10:00 pm eastern time when my parents finally sent us all to bed on the news 
that Mission Control made the decision to wait until the next day to send Neil Armstrong out 
of the lunar module.  With tears in my eyes, I went to bed thinking that I missed my chance 
to share my birthday with history and to have had my short story prognostication come true.

At a few minutes before 11:00 my parents woke all of us up to come watch as Neil 
Armstrong could wait no longer and talked Mission Control into letting him walk on the moon 
without further delay.

So, at about 11:00 pm, on my 11th birthday, the men from Apollo 11 walked on the moon for 
the first time in history.  One small step for man and one giant link to history for one small 
boy in Charleston, West Virginia.

And, that is when 11 became my favorite number.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Bio


Give It Up For Neil

out there in our world
there are brilliant individuals
whose minds are incredible,
awesome & inspiring,
bearing thoughts, ideas &
theories, which many of us
wouldn’t be able to fathom
if the thinker her/himself 
sat down at our breakfast table
& spoon fed it to us
like we were good little Gerber 
babies.

there are funny wo/men out 
there also,
who with one quick quip or
deliberate body gesture, facial
contortion or humorous act
which may up to this point have
no definition at all,
are able to tickle our funny bone,
sending us into a fit of
laughter, which may very well
create pain in our gut or
cause us to fall right out of our
chairs.

unfortunately it is the case that
seldom do these two vital human
qualities exist within the same being &
when you come across someone
who possesses both,
your jaw might drop at the same time
you begin to quake with an almost
violent 
guffaw---
this writer does feel that
Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson fits the bill.

Dr. Neil can captivate an audience---
armed with a comforting smile, 
razor sharp wit & pure down to
earth sagacity, 
in just over an hour (maybe less) 
he can take those who held 
absolutely no interest in Science
whatsoever,
and with an uncanny ability to weave
the most wondrous & complicated 
descriptions of what goes on in the
cosmos, 
with jokes & anecdotes
in a communicative way that does not
have an agenda,
outside that of education,
he is able to turn on whole crowds
to a love of Science!

and once you see him,
you won’t be able to get enough---
you’ll watch all the youtube lectures he
did, 
and you’ll read all his books &
the whole time,
you’ll be learning things 
which had they been brought you 
by someone else,
you might have just been bored listening,
or ignored outright.

though many good intentioned smart
wo/men
will do their best to convey 
all their research &
they’ll do so with all the compassion that
they can muster,
how unquestionably important it is to
have someone like Neil 
bearing as much communicative talent
as he does sheer intelligence,
so that he might continue to
illuminate the world,
showing his own love for what he does &
what has always interested him,
so that he may pass it on,
igniting further amazement in us all,
so that so many break the chains of
religious dogmas which have
kept their eyes & their minds 
shut & closed for so long!

Ocd Part 1

This is in no way my poem, I'm not trying to take any credit for it.
I saw it on YouTube performed by Neil Hilborn.

The first time I saw her, everything in my head went quiet.
All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.
When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don't really get quiet moments.
Even in bed, I'm thinking "Did I lock the door? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the door? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes." When I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips, or the eyelash on her cheek-
the eyelash on her cheek-
the eyelash on her cheek. 
I knew I had to talk to her. 
I asked her out 6 times in 30 seconds, she said yes after the third one but none of them felt right so I had to keep going. 
On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating, or f*cking, talking to her. But she loved it.
She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye 16 times, or 24 times if it was Wednesday.
She loved it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks in our sidewalk.
When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us, because I definitely locked the door 18 times. I'd always watch her mouth when she talked-
when she talked-
when she talked- 
when she talked-
when she talked.
When she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges.
At night, she'd lay in bed and watch me turn the lights on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off. She'd close her eyes, and imagine the days and nights were just passing in front of her. Some mornings, I'd start kissing her goodbye but she would just leave because I was making her late for work. 
When I stopped at a crack in the sidewalk she just kept walking. When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line. She told me I was taking up too much of her time. Last week, she started sleeping at her mother's place. She told me that she shouldn't've let me get so attached to her. That this whole thing was a mistake, but how can it be a mistake that I don't have to wash my hands after I touch her? Love is not a mistake, it's not fair that she can run away from this and I just can't! I can't go out and find someone new, because I always think of her. (read next poem for ending)

Premium Member Classic Rock N Roll

Carlo Santana's Black Magic Woman,
in the 60's and 70's gave magic to his 
band.. 

Drugs were part of this movement it's
fair to say. Getting high for many, 
while listening to their music, was the
common way

   Peace signs, beads, bell bottoms,
psychedelic shirts, desert boots, and
long hair and marijuana, is what was 
in style. Looking back and being part
of that history lifestyle, makes me smile.

   Peace protesters against the draft,
and Vietnam war. Jimi Hendrix, Peter,
Paul and Mary, The Beatles, Bob Dillon
The Beach Boys,Led Zepplin, Rolling
Stones,Elvis,Simon and Garfunkel,
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Neil Young,
Leonard Skynyrd, Eric Clapton, Carly
Simon is all we heard.

They kept our soldiers in Viet Nam 
mentally occupied. It helped them
overcome their stress, and brought
some pleasure to their lives.

Rock N Roll Music had an impact
everywhere.The melodies and lyrics
represented a culture reflecting people,
who really cared. 

  Neil Young, Eric Clapton, Aerosmith,   
Neil Diamond, Barbara Striesand,
Jim Croce made the scene. Years later
Disco and the Bee Gee's came dancing
in.

  Disco died, it didn't last long, during
this time Rock N Roll kept rolling on.

Rush, The Eagles, The Police, Peter
Frampton, Boston, Reo Speedwagon,
Blue OysterCult, Fleetwood Mac, Bob
Seger, Steve Miller band, we listened
to. I can't forget Journey, Bruce
Springsteen, Foreigner or the Who.

  Bon Jovi, Creed, Madonna, Red Chili 
Peppers, Van Halen, Black Eye Peas,
Were hot then. Rock N Roll songs, will
keep on playing, and be appreciated 
over and over again. 

  Time reflects the Lyrics in the songs,
of the good times and the wrongs.
Woodstock brought them all together,
a lasting bond to last forever.. .



 Homeward Bound Simon and Garfunkel 
was the favorite song with the soldiers. Also
John mentioned The Lion SleepsTonight by 
the Tokens.  Robert Lindley also mentioned
their groups that were left out. Please read his
comments below. I also thank Robert for his 
valued input.

  I just want to add that the 60's and
70's were my personal favorite years.
I say this because people really cared
about the war and each other. They
were right...
  


  
Michael Tor 10/16/2015  Nayda Ivette Negron. Contest: Favorite Music Type
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Family and Love

Life is all about family and love.

July 20, 1969, this day in history
Astronaut Neil Armstrong walked on moon, 240,000 miles
From Earth, a billion people
Listening at home:
“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

This same day near midnight
A small town in Taiwan island, a baby
Was born.  I was born!
This clinic nurse in the lobby
Told my grandmother:  “It’s a girl.”
Disappointing granny then
Turned around and went on home:  without hesitation.
    Everyone wished I
Was a boy!  
            Life is all about family and love.

Introspective, peacemaker, stammering, am I so.
My order sister
Too, born as a special child.  She
Blames my mother granting me a prettier face. She
Demands everyone rewarding her undivided attention.  I
Pretended permitting her full control over me – until, I
Ceased pretending!
A blessing or a curse, am I not.
Lack of nurturing,
false, no one – mom and dad did their very best.
Celebrate.  I am the pretty one.
            Life is all about family and love.

Grounded, stubborn, fearless, am I so.
Sunrise; sundown; circle of seasons,
presenting the most powerful version of me – fiercely, am I not.
Schooling, work, duty, responsibility, I am so.
Tearful five years of family revolution – a summon
From entropy, chaos!   Three people
again one – the disgraceful one as I
was named!
Shocking, awakening, baffling, agonizing,
             Life is all about family and love.

Eccentric, curious creature, solitude endeavor, am I so.
A grateful heart roaring
Abundant resources, reaching
Extraordinary heights, a lifetime student, am I not.
Millions of mistakes.  Countless mis-turns.
Knowledge applied become wisdom.
Walking this lonely road missing
A mentor.   Not a road less traveled, but
A road worth travels.
              Life is all about family and love.

Ecstatic,  untethered,  blissed soul, am I so.
My father – a giver, a protector,
a provider – kindest man on earth.
Along the way, without permission, his little girl makes him proud.
Truly my father’s daughter.  I am so!
Redeem mother’s homemade
Cooking once more.  That’s one
Small step for the self-chained mother, one giant leap
For a tranquil daughter.
              Life is all about family and love -- forgivingly.
Form: Rhyme


Dribbling

Dribbling

If someone continually gets knocked down
Eventually they will give up the ghost
If around every corner is more negativity
Which of us has lost the most?

Started to believe
More fool me
Be another page
In my sad history

Knock me back
I’m used to it
Should I care
Should I give a 

If you had me and lost me
How much did you lose?

I never dreamt this for you
But then, 
I never dreamt it for me,
Too

Never got beyond the opening gambits
The if's the that's
The why's and wherefore's
The dangled conversation
The fandangled expression
The ooh's the ah's
The more's the baa's
The ponderous the wonderful
The hip the snakey 
The half asleep
The wide awakey 
The shakers
The quakers
The jitterers
The poem makers
The right from wrongs
The singers the songs
The left from right
The right from not-so

You never understood
None of you
Never had a clue

Poem as
Cathartic expression
Class dismissed
End of lesson

I’ve told you a thousand times
Don’t exaggerate 
And if you’re not early
Don’t be late

Mind your p’s and q’s
Your x y z’s and your w’s
Let it flow
Let it grow
Mind what’s going on 
Down below
Every sperm is sacred
Monty Python taught us so

How long’s a rollercoaster
Compared to a sapling
If you think about
Why is money happening

Haven’t had this much fun
In years and years
Still wondering about sweetcorn
WTF? Ears, ears?

Just letting my mind
Cleanse itself
Nothing left
On the shelf
There’s an infinite number
Of poems to be written
If I call this one,
Will it be forgiven?
I’m here and now
Ducking and fighting
A paper bag
Doesn’t come when writing

There was an old poet called Neil
Who wrote something for the thrill
Everyone groaned 
Some even moaned
At poor Neil Neil orange peel

Don’t worry
I’ll get me coat 
Not wanted here
I won’t get the goat

There’s barely a day goes by
Without me trying to marry
Sigh with my
I wonder why
This butterfly
The poems cry
And if I’m high
Or do or die
I’ll fly
Aye
I’ll fly
Aye
For the end is nigh…

PS
There’s a reason for this coda
Nothing to do with odour
But I’m not going to tell you
Or give you a clue
The best poems are written
To make you think,
I think.

28.4.2022 9:06am
© Neil Johns  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A letter to Tony

Tony Abbot ex minister prime you came on the net
To spoke at length, to good friends of mine. Graham
And Jhonny ‘a real friendly talk’ about
How you as a part-time fiery walked some hot
Walk.  In 2018 when you helped 
And that’s all good..' Where so many did lose their lives
And Homes possessions as the blazes grew' as they
Never should Brian Naylor and his wife died  now he was
An anchor!! That was a man! he
Spoke true.  Not a zak a dozen his thoughts
And style. And you know that too! He’d beat this drainstream  
Media, by fifty country miles.  And Graham
And Jhonny well i give all respect! Yet they trod sorta
Easy with you Tony.' In style But me?? Well, now i'm
Different.. I ain’t done (you bet!) yet!
Cause you know ( the story ) and the tipans
That roam, that old bush city, that satan calls
Home!  Once you were destined for much better
Things yet you joined ‘that circus you ran in
The rings’ you know the skulduggery the 
W e f plan.  The noble reasons?  I.e. genocide
Deception and even the scam, on lesser humans? Women children
And men, the old and vulnerable, just inspect your inner
Soul And see if there remains anything the devils not
Stole? Why not interview Bosi?
Adam Antic too.  Turn to Malcom Roberts and the country
That nurtured the beginning of you!! Turn to the
Ringers to the cockys and such' to truckies
And Doctors.  To the police who resigned
And all those WHO STOOD TOUGH! Just like Graham
And Jhonny' 'they gave about all that they
Had. (Yet couldn’t really confront you).  And that’s real sad
They were concerned
At any backlash.. I reckon that now?  Yet I
Will not stand on ceremony.  I will push you
And how!! I ask you Tony will you
Put your cattle in the yards?  Will you give out some fruit?
Shake the limbs by each bough . eat and drink out of silver 
it’s not really that hard!  What value gold 
Against honour?  Turn from the murder' about now!
Raise up a standard, for that’s by far
Your best shout!
Seek out Babet and Pauline Neil Patterson
Rod Culleton they're still about.'
And they are just a few. A whole country is willing wanting leadership
That will do.!
 (it just needs more people to stand, who are – really, true blue!).

©Joe Maverick 23rd May 2024

Ten Up

#84

TEN UP

10^0  

Ten to the zero is really just one,
positive power, its a whole, not a part.
We don’t move from the decimal,
it’s just where we start.

10^3

Ten cubed, or a kilo,
when dealing in drugs.
It’s a measure in metrics,
it’s the math of the thugs.

10^6

Ten to the sixth, or one million we say,
a number so big, you truly will cringe.
It’s the needed storeage for data,
we’ll use to stream in a binge.

10^9

Ten to the ninth!  A billion or look...
it’s near the wealth of Bill Gates.
He’s fifty times this base and exponent,
let’s buy his stock at the lowest rates.

10^12 

Ten to the twelfth, a trillion, so great!
In the Lascaux caves with ancient heart,
it’s the number of years,
since they painted this art.


10^15

Ten to the fifteenth, a quadrillion for scale,
one hundred seventy light-years, is this.
We could travel to Kappa Andromedae b,
a Super Jupiter planet, we’d not wanna miss.

10^18

Ten to the eighteenth, just a quintillion!
It’s all for the counting in our niche, 
in molecules, for one drop of water,
or gains of sand on one beach. 

10^ 21

Ten to the twenty-first, or sextillion, not less,
while counting this high to figure it out.
It’s the stars in the universe,
in total, on their misty nebula route.

10^24

Ten to the twenty-fourth, septillion the count.
It’s a layer of dollars covering the ground,
a blanket of money, each inch of the earth,
a kilometer thick, and easily found.

10^-3 and falling...

Be glad I didn’t go this other way,
with negative exponents dividing so small.
A ten raised to three, going left to a minus,
to Planck scale and shrinking, to nothing at all.


Given the powers of ten for such ease,
dividing with negatives, or growing in positives. 
You’ll find you won’t need to write so many zeros,
when grappling big numbers and their causatives.


When meeting the sciences with powers of ten,
then quite easily, you’ll see all the fun!
Writing scales of the universe, or quantum realms,
in plus or minus, starting with zero, or one.

-Edlynn Nau 
©April 2, 2019
For anyone trying to understand huge numbers!  
Inspired by Neil deGrasse Tyson, and by students trying to 
make sense of scale.
© Edlynn Nau  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Indian Solar System

(TW : Abusive marriage )

So we are here in this garden less green than the ones you promised .

Oh you say this ? 
you the girl with eyes browner than the skin , 5 feet of womanhood , 7 inches of literature .( says the man who plays the man) 
How I wish I could revisit those 5 inches !
(Says the girl who plays the wife ,  who could revolve around the world but  revolved around this holy fire less holy more fire )
You ,  weren't you my partner satellite moon ? Or were you another mercury ? 
I thought you were sugar , you'd mix in hot water when I'd make tea for you but Alas ! 
You were always mercury , meant to vapourize and

then suddenly enter my body to cause sleep disorders and nervous breakdowns .
So I have a question paper like the ones they give in schools to fool children . 
1)Is this my monologue like every other or will you reply ? 
2)Are you dead or you pretend to be ? 
3)Can I your wife play dead ? 
and if I play dead , will you make food for chotu and manage the laundry ? 
4)Can wives play dead or become "Plutos" , leaving the solar system with its fireball and mercury leaving no trace of cool winds and dwarfism ? 
I have a last questions to ask , like Neil Armstrong had for moon . 
5)Did the moon turn out to be what he expected or did he find craters ? 
If he found craters I would travel to the past in a time machine or my washing machine and tell him that he was lucky to find craters on the moon , I never found a moon except for karvachauth , the festival they make us celebrate to see the real moon and then see the mercury that appeared like moon but wasn't . 
Though I am not allowed to answer you back but let me open , 
ans) I , Sarla , the wife of a man who is just a man wasn't lucky enough to find a moon when I was sent away from my brown and blue earth with grasslands green and sky as blue as lapis lazuli 
I wish I could play dead or
extremely volatile like you do but there are clothes to wash ,
lies to be recited in the ears of children when they ask for stories .
How I wish I could recite them poems from literature but Alas ! 
I am Sarla and I am just 5 feet tall , tall enough to remain invisible in this solar system .

#Tragedy #Society #Struggle

Sixty-six years and six months

My people set out sixty-six years and six months ago
Give or take; sure, liberties taken, but I'll give her back,
And if you want, they got a machine with occasional fact,
But back to forbodingly sixty-six years and six months back,

From where it began, when Mrs Mack wheeled out the TV set-up,
A foot tall, a foot thick, the TV-set set on its squeaky-wheeled mount,
Glory glory no more school work, giddily circling our chairs around,
Our eyeballs were gripped on the skittering image with tinnier sound.

Convincible Wilbur met able Orville so hard in the jaw,
It busted Will's hand and broke Orville's maw at their middle-west home,
Both seemed to feel there were no sounder sounds than primordial groans
Freely to rise, free as the sky, free as a soul freed from its bones.

But Wilbur lay dying from making the rounds with the Brahmins up north,
On his deathbed he choked that he swore at the wings of the Flyer he'd croak,
Now cared-for by lawyers, accountants who brought gifts of ink, pens and notes,
His brother said "sign or I'll kill you" I guess as a bit of a joke.

Sixty-six years and six months beyond the Kitty Hawk time,
Mrs Mack wheeled out the TV-set set on its squeaky-wheeled mount,
Glory glory no more school work, giddily circling our chairs around,
Our eyeballs were gripped on the skittering image with tinnier sound.

It felt profound, though what was Neil Armstrong going on about,
"one squawk small step for squawk man one giant leap for man,"
Kind someone thought to pack our flag to plant in the sand,
Stand and admire our airless, desert, promised land!

Sixty-six years and six months beyond when Apollo sat down,
When Mrs Mack wheeled out the TV-set set on its squeaky-wheeled mount,
Glory glory no more school work, giddily circling our chairs around,
Our eyeballs were gripped on the skittering image with tinnier sound.

Garbage truck man breaking for lunch from his garbage pick-up,
Put down his garbage-truck window and threw out a crumpled-up sack,
Landing about by the two yellow lines on the asphalt pitch black,
And half of us asked 'are we there yet?' and half 'will we ever get back?'
Form: Rhyme

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