Long Not a poem Poems
Long Not a poem Poems. Below are the most popular long Not a poem by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Not a poem poems by poem length and keyword.
Since you passed away
we miss you more each and every day
you helped us through the good times and through the bad
the best friend any one could possibly of ever had
you stood by us through thick and thin
no matter what we wanted to do
we may forget many things in our life time
but dearest dad we wont ever forget you.
my dad was my best friend, His faith kept him strong, Just like Job whatever the world threw
at him he bounced back even stronger than before, and although this is not a poem of
faith, my dad in his own way showed me a glipms of our father in Heaven the true loving
father of us all, even when we make mistakes he will still there no matter what he is waiting
for us all. It's never too late to come home to the Lord he has his arms open wide to
welcome you.
This is not a poem about a rose
Nor a poem about diligence and beauty
Today, I sit and stare at the walls
Walls that bare the complexity of life
Every breath, every tear I shed in my room
Set out to pollinate every seed, every bud-
Life once - was the perfection of everything
Now, water drips as I drown in my sentiments
Sentiments that no longer hold meaning
I feel so empty now that you are gone.
This is not a poem about a rose,
Rather it may be I write about death
Death is a man with no face
A man who sits every night
Patiently, he sits on the edge of everything
Waiting and waiting
For the thorn to prick the stem of who I am
Who I used to be in hopes I end the suffering
Every night he sits at the bedside
Watching and waiting
As I gaze deep into the dark watery walls
I lost the strength and resilience in my eyes
Creating a dormancy that shuts out the light
In a place where darkness prunes itself another day
There and only there,
I draw the silhouettes where life once bloomed
The echoes of my heart still call out your name
A name that no longer exists by my side
Slowly musk withers into the air
In remembrance, you were once here
Perfection Gone "And a rose is just a rose"
Sometimes I take material that is not a poem
and then I rewrite it and make it my own.
Below is a FWD that I once reveived.
What follows after is how I turned it to poetry.
*
Due to a power outage, only one paramedic responded to the call. The house was very dark so the paramedic asked Kathleen, a 3-yr old girl to hold a flashlight high over her mommy so he could see while he helped deliver the baby. Very diligently, Kathleen did as she was asked. Heidi pushed and pushed and after a little while, Connor was born. The paramedic lifted him by his little feet and spanked him on his bottom. Connor began to cry. The paramedic then thanked Kathleen for her help and asked the wide-eyed 3-yr old what she thought about what she had just witnessed. Kathleen quickly responded, 'He shouldn't have crawled in there in the first place.......spank his butt again!"
*
The emergency call reached the paramedic. A baby was about to be born.
He could hardly see through his windshield, as he battled the raging storm.
A 3 year old girl greeted him at the doorway allowing him to enter her home.
She took him by the hand and said, "This way doctor man,"
and then led him to her Mommy's room.
It was a very dark night,
so he asked the child to hold his flashlight
so he could assist the baby from leaving its mother's womb.
He held the baby by its legs and spanked its little bottom.
The baby cried and a new life was born.
With great concern the paramedic asked the young child,
"How do you feel about what you just saw?"
"He should have never crawled up there in the first place," she said,
"You should spank him again once more."
The black earth just below the moss.
It's headiness held down.
On top a carpet green and soft
The comfort of a crown.
To walk is just a hop of heart
A bounce a joy away.
To feel it is to just relax
A comfort I'm to play.
A passing look, a fervent scene.
A tree-line standing tall.
Upon a hill; a mound of earth
A feeling that I call.
The Northern Star above the frost
to guide my lazy eye.
Where home is found and I am part
of never ending sky.
A walk between a ledge of trees
My compass fresh Pine air.
To come out in a swamp of dew
Reflections that I care.
My home a little cabin further.
Walls of racked up logs.
Out front a hound dog tied to feed
an appetite of hogs.
A smoke puff from a chimney top
A signal someone's home.
A maiden in an evening gown
A wife if not a poem.
My life in Northern Canada
has brand me with it's scent.
For those above it's parallel
No time's been better spent.
Ring...Ring
me) That's a strange area code....Yello!
God) Hello
me) Hello, who is this?
God) It's me God, don't you recognize my voice?
me) No...
God) Hmmm...that's what I thought.
me) What do you mean by...never mind, I was just getting ready to call you!
God) Ah hello it's me....God?
me) Oh yea, I guess there's no fooling you there.
God) Not really but don't think that people don't try! Haven't seen you around in a while...
me) Well you know I'm always thinking about you...most of the time. And I listen to Christian music...some of the time. Oh and I try to read inspirational books...when I have time.
God) Isn't that nice...Hey, how are the knees holding out?
me) My knees?
God) Yes your knees or more to the point...your prayer life.
me) My prayer life? Didn't I mention I'm always thinking...
God) Yea I got that, it's just the way things have been going lately I know your worried.
me) Your not kidding there!
God) Well that's why I called, to remind you I'm still in control and everything is going to work out according to my will. You do believe that don't you?
me) Yes I believe that.
God) Then you might want to start acting like it. With all that's going on around you these days you seem to have left me out.
me) You know your right!
God) Duh...I'm God!
me) Oh yeah...
God) Hey here's a novel idea (please excuse the pun) instead of reading an inspiring book try reading THE inspired book...My Holy Word. Every thing you need in life is there.
me) That IS a novel idea! (did you say something about a pun) Thanks I'm feeling better. Hey I gotta go there's someone at the door. Can I call you later?
God) Of course...I'm always here.
I know this is not a poem...
What can I say...it's here
Form:
dear read... stop
that's almost a
palindrome start
...er my
father called
my mother
mother but i
called my mother Mum
also this is not a poem
for mother's day but
though written on
mother's day
please
read the title as intended
simply to be a memory of
being at my
Mum's
house one day when i was
thirty one years
of age but
this
is
what
was
going through my head
knowing that someday
i would write it down
i was in the
kitchen sauteing
onions in butter and
Mum was in a back room
in the back of her house when
from the stove suddenly a splatter
of butter now
turned to ghee
but still with the
fat floating on top
spat up and on to my
arm stopping all thoughts
as mentioned
above as well
as the wooden
spoon i was using
to saute the onions
in the butter now ghee
i caught myself but not
catching myself in time
also dropping the F bomb
in fact dropping the whole
nine yards when suddenly
the stampeding sound of
a single animal entered my
ears as suddenly as did my
Mum and she slapped me
in the face and said, "Don't
you ever use that kind of
language in this house ever
again!!!" and that slap
took my 31 and turned me
to 13 once again back to
when i was a boy in the
kitchen cooking and said,
"Yes Mum."
Form:
I am neither a star nor light
I am not bright, I am not shiny
Just a spark that cannot drive darkness
But I can let a blaze start
I am a reed, hollow with dents
A plaything or a trifle in many eyes
But with the touch of a maestro,
Can produce sweet symphony
I am not a poem with a rhyme
Nor a carol that does chime
I am a jumble of words
If rearranged can become a song
I am a stone with pointed edges
Shapeless and lumpy, solid and rude
If chopped down and cut up
Can become a sculpted marvel
I am neither a giant nor a genius
I am not very smart or skillful
I am an ordinary human, blessed,
With a heart that can feel and heal
Thoughtfully shaped on God’s anvil,
In His eyes, I am a piece of priceless art
In no way, shall I demean my worth
A masonry built by God’s divine hands
Not A Poem But A Thank You
Hello All. I'm sorry if I am late in responding to any review. I truly want to take this time to thank you all for such generosity and grace. Honestly. Never do I take it lightly when someone enters my page. With this being said, since joining almost two months now it has been an honor and privilege reading your work. It is also wonderful being in the same membership. The level of talent is marvelous and so are your poetic expressions. Be proud of your work and style.
Please do not feel the need to respond to this as I know it isn't a poem or in any poetic fashion. I just wanted to say thank you.
Have a wonderful holiday weekend. To all those who celebrate and recognize Easter allow me to say Happy Easter. May the Easter Bunny be good to you and find you.
Once again, I'm sorry for any late response and replies I didn't want anyone to think I was being rude disrespectful or forgetful. I will catch up with everything on Monday.
Thank you
SkyWatcher
From Pop Idol to American Idol, the Journey Across the Pond was Worth the Trip.
From the X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent to AGT, the Road has been long and Ever Winding.
Though while walking the streets of Lambeth, and playing in the school yard in Elstree seems like a distant Fond Memory.
You Spent long days at Radlett and later developed a keen intellect at Dover College.
From EMI to Fanfare Records you further developed your Musical Genius and Style at BMG and S Records.
Though I think that the role which will encapsulate the Rest of Your Life, and be Most Fulfilling came to Fruition on February 14, in 2014 with the birth of Your Son Eric.
I Read that you Broke your back, which I can only imagine is very painful.
I know that this is not a Poem, or very Artistic, but I wanted to write to say as a Music and Talent Fan, Thank you.
I Wish for you God’s Richest blessing in the future.
May his Grace, Love, Peace and Understanding abide with You Always.
God Bless,
Sincerely
One of Many Fans
Author Paul Cumberbatch ( September 2nd, 2020)
Hello friends and future friends. I hope my
choice of my poetic form is totally absurd.
I don't even know what an Epithalamium is;
so if you are looking for this form, I'm sorry
to disappoint. I haven't posted in awhile, and
perhaps it may be a bit instead of me just
blurting out my mind through my mouth.
I just got vack from a recent trip to
Cartagena, Colombia and have been
writing a collection.
I am going to title it "poems from a broard";
the broad in this case is mi Musa Melissa.
(Maureen, Melissa said you are beautiful
and kept saying "weeeeee" [your last comment]
Presently I am trying to organize poems that
I wrote on my trip as well as a lot written in the
airport waiting to reluctantly leave Cartagena.
Please por favor keep in mind that I would like
to present this as if a book; but know only 10
poems for a period of 24 hours.; so hang in
there with me and I will start to share.
Thanks to all the folks I have met here,
and the folks I hope to meet. Blessings!!!