Long Noone Poems
Long Noone Poems. Below are the most popular long Noone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Noone poems by poem length and keyword.
Heard the news all about strait of Hormuz
Israel derail flail impale Septic tanks muse
Evisceration of entire nation excuse do use
The emancipation of a pariah state the ruse
Eschews queues of pundit crews from pews
Abuse truths confuse proof of sleuths views
Clues bright clear hues who did light the fuse
Whichever side you choose everyone will lose
Fossil fuel rule the soaring price of a barrel
Notoriety of warring society as things unravel
Deploring apparel Dickensian dystopia carol
Impropriety imploring piety noone can travel
Trump myopia even after alarm of Vietnam
Cruise missiles trials denials all about harm
Disarm nuclear piles more lies from the farm
Can’t becalm not napalm just arm AI wiles
No qualm war once more hush defile isles
Crush the rush of plush paedophiles files
There was talk about the nuclear bomb
There was a war going on in Vietnam
It was on the news, the drummers were drumming
Look out America, the British are coming
We couldn't wait to turn our radios on
To hear Paul and Ringo, George and John
What could make you feel more alive
Than to rise in the morning to the Dave Clark Five
To be part of it was so much fun
With Eric and "The House of the Rising Sun"
Music sent from heaven above
Peter and Gordon "A World Without Love"
There was Peter Noone and Herman's Hermits sound
While Petula Clark took us all "Downtown"
The country went wild when Donovan hit the stage
Tom Jones and Dusty Springfield were part of the rage
Oh Lord one day please take me back
To hear Marianne Faithful and Cilla Black
The Rolling Stones conquered every city
And Manfred Mann sang "Do Wah Diddy"
The Kinks and Troggs took us for a whirl
The New Seekers sang about "Georgy Girl"
British fashion was everywhere
And the Zombies told us "She's Not There"
Now James bond was doing some super spying
Gerry said, "Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying"
Freddie and the Dreamers sang "I'm Telling You Now"
The British had conquered America somehow
The Searchers, The Hollies, meaningful words
Chad and Jeremy, don't forget the Yardbirds
If there was a way we could do it again
We'd have another invasion like we did back then.
If you weren't there, it might be hard to understand. The music had meaning
with political statements and social statements written between the lines. the
young were actively involved and the apathy that exists now was hard to find. The
fun music was fun music and the message music set a tone for a generation. It
was a great time to be growing up in spite of the turmoil in the world, a world we
thought we all could change. Times change, sometimes not for the better.
get up dusk yourself off ,jumb back on that horse
are you really going to give up cause you failed the course
hold up your head up , straighten up your back
you got to get your life back on the right track
so what everybody wants you to be who they want you to be
you have to live your own life make choices for yourself
yea alot of that might come with a fee
but you have to stop being a doormat for everyone else
speak out loud clear your throat
no wonder so many people take you for a joke
doing all that mumbling noone can hear a word
voice yourself stand up and be heard
you really need to stop taking and start giving advice
dont you think it's time to start to taking charge of your life
otherwise the rest of your life will be filled with regrets
cause it's not what you do in life it;s how you do it
The fun of this world is that my Lord is one. No mishaps or wishwashy mistakes on bending my in knee in prostration. My king is Allah and I wish to meet and greet him when my soul is taken to heaven. You see, my desire is paradise and I refuse to roll the dice on that dream, why waste being proper when the golden trees and rivers that are sweet to the taste, that will have my taste buds jumping in joy because oh boy, an everlasting stay in a place of supreme serenity, no vain pains, but everybody is equal and the people that made peace on this earth have eternity waiting for them.
My dream no matter how far it may seem is to have the fate of being allowed into the gates, along with my family and being greeted by the angels of mercy. To see foods of my liking spread across a table and to live in a kingdom without an ounce of rudeness. Noone calling me out my name, but I will reside beside people who have fame. They were good in God's temporary illusion despite all the confusion.
I
I was born early but now im late to everything,
I over think things and under do,
My favourite colour is red but my worst thing is blood,
I love painting but i cant draw a thing,
I'm always trying to go forwards but end up backwards,
I talk a lot and i say nothing at all.
I like people but i dislike many,
I give everything i have and everything i have gets taken off me.
I share love but cant find love,
I always listen and offer a shoulder, but when i need a shoulder i can never find one, and noone hears a word i say.
I like to be alone but i get lonely often.
I love music it makes me feel good, but i get sad when i listen to it.
I love children but feel sad when i think of them,
My soul wants to go home but my brain says no,
I whisper outside but roar inside,
Empathy is my middle name, but so many dont have middle names.
FREEDOM
LOCKED AWAY IN A TINY CELL
FOR HOW LONG MY MIND WON'T TELL
MY MEALS PLACED IN FRONT OF ME
DON'T LOOK APPETIZING SO I WILL NOT EAT
MY MIND SEEMS TO WORK OVER TIME
LOCKED AWAY IN A TINY CELL I WHICH I CALL MINE
NOBODY DARE ASKA HOW I AM
FRANKLY BECAUSE NOONE GIVES A DAMN
THERE IS A WORLD OUT THERE WAITING FOR ME
TINY WINDOWS MAKE ME DISBELIEVE
UP IN COURT IN TWO DAYS TIME
LUCKY ENOUGH TO GET OUT THE CELL I CALL MINE
COURT DAY IS NOW HERE
NOTHING TO SAY NOTHING TO FEAR
BACK IN MY CELL FOR TWO MORE YEARS
NOONE ASKS HOW I GOT ON, NOONE CARES
I'LL BE DREAMING DRINKING AT THE BAR WITH MATES
LOOKING FOR BLOKES TO GO ON DATES
NOW IN MY CELL I DO NOT FEEL SO GLUM
BECAUSE YOU KNOW I'M ON MY WAY TO FREEDOM.
Am I invisible?
No, I’m not.
Sometimes I feel like I am.
Sometimes I wish I was.
But deep down I know I’m not.
Even if it was my deepest desire,
I’m certain it’d ever come true.
In this house,
I may not be invisible,
But my feelings definitely are.
Like they’re hovering,
far away from my body.
Where my family can’t see.
I soak in the words they preach,
When I become the outlet for sadness, anger, and grief.
My body moves mindlessly as
I comfort them.
Each and every person.
Even though it is never returned.
My brain taps restlessly at my skull,
Begging me to listen,
Begging me to acknowledge the twinge in my chest,
the tears building up in my eyes.
But I can’t.
I cant.
I lay alone in this bed,
Staring into the darkness,
Wondering why noone cares.
Shouldn’t I get some compensation?
Don’t I deserve something back?
Aren’t my kind words,
My selfless actions,
Deserving of something,
More?
I’m told to “keep it together.”
But why me?
Because I am stronger than them?
more mature?
more understanding?
And yet I am so young.
Can my heart keep beating,
With this many wounds?
My rib cage is torn open,
blood leaks from my chest,
dark crimson stains the world
around me,
and yet I still ask,
“Are you okay?”
Even if it is my life,
I will offer it to them,
For it bears no importance to me.
Surrounded by these people,
The ones I call ‘family’,
I am a counsellor, for all ages.
I wonder where I store it all,
All the trauma -
That’s been passed down to me,
Like a secret ingredient,
Measured by the gods.
A treasure to keep safe.
And I lock it all away.
Will I ever escape this?
Am I always to be seen as just another diary to dump words in?
Someone who will drink up the sorrow,
From her very household,
Just to prevent a flood?
When will this torture end?
I know I love them,
There is no denying that statement.
But I no longer wish to walk around with the label “therapist” stamped on my back.
Don’t you see the scales above my head?
Dangerously tilting,
About to fall?
I feel like sometime soon,
The bolts will loosen,
And all will fall apart.
I am breaking into pieces,
cracks appearing with each trauma untold.
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t here,
I wish when they saw me,
I was seen for conversation - normal ones.
And sometimes I wish I was invisible,
Or maybe not even here at all.
Having a wish to wake up very early;
At the time, when people get up barely
When the entire London will sleep,
And through the window I will peep.
I will get out for a walk gently
And also feel the magical dawn deeply.
After crossing few miles, with the pleasant feeling of breeze,-
Oh!at last I will reach the Westminster Bridge.
Ah!then what joyance will rain upon me;
Noone will be there to take share of my glee.
Gradually, the Sun will rise and brighten the surrounding,
With the first ray, the River Thames will be glowing.
The thriving city will start its regular journey,
But there I will dawdle, because I will be free;-
The serenity of Thames will make me energetic,
And help me forget the adventures which are sardonic.
At the end of the day, my feelings will be frail;
It will be thrilling, if I hear the Big Ben's bell.
Now I am so far away, but I promise
To make my dream true at Westminster Bridge.
Creation is somehow beautiful
See the beauty of Mother Earth
See the grace of shadows
Feel the warmth of the sun
See, see even the rainbow after the deluge
Of all the mysteries of creation
I prefer life's temporal nature
Life does start somewhere
Said to be in the womb, is it?
Life does end, somehow, exactly how, noone knows!
Books do philosophize about it
Religions have been set up
Even anti religions do try do explain
Science does keep poking its nose in
The ending result is still a total mystery
If God could make poetry
He would such on the abstractiveness of life
Why does life itself be?
Why does life start, if only to end?
Is life after death for real, if so, life before life should be so as well!
If God could make poetry
He would make us all melt
So lovely would be His words
So lovely that we would understand the whole world
This one and those lying further beyond
If God could make poetry
I would buy His book
Say, do you believe not his poetry is called the Holy Books
Be it the Bible or the Gita
Whatever be the belief, yet only a most Holy Book?
One does explain about the beginning of life
Another one does explain about the essence of the Lord
Another one yet does explain about the essence of life
While yet another one shows life's philosophy
Such books I believe are God's real poetry, such books are my philosophy!
Ezzelle, has a story she will oneday tell
Recently, out of her little pink shell
Life has greeted her with smiles and grace
A little angel from heaven, noone can replace
She is new to this world
Her presence renown
Safe in her mother’s arms is where she can be found
She has already touched many hearts
She plays a major role, and was born to play the part
May joy and peace always abound
May she never have a tear or frown
For the joy of a new born child
Is anything but mild
A precious gift
Her smiles always lifts
Those who are near
May she always know her life is dear.
By: Sabina