Long Now and then Poems
Long Now and then Poems. Below are the most popular long Now and then by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Now and then poems by poem length and keyword.
Now and then I start to think how nice that it would be
To see your face, to hear your voice, to have you near to me
Every hour of every day, I wouldn't tire of
Your presence or your company, those two things I'd love
I'm not some crazy lovesick man, I'm just a fool for you
I've come across the perfect match in things I like to do
So sometimes if it seems to you I've gone a bit too far
With paintings, a tattoo and such, don't think that I'm bizarre
My feelings live inside my heart, although of them you know
And there they shall remain until a day when they can show
Here at the heart of the darkest day
Darkest light at noonday and midnight
The shadows show the holes to a different realm
A different reality, negative images of creation
The opposite of light, the reverse of night, positive to negative
Light from the other side of life, seeing the unseen, revelation
What lurks between the now and then
The in-between what is known and unknown
In the heart of the darkest brilliant day
The witching hour deep in darkest night
The 13th-hour chimes, echos die in the coming doom
Hollow and sacred, full of light well past midnight
Another world of a different sight
The flip of noon darkest light an errant
Night nether white or darkest night
A day of an odd unnamable delight, a color out of time
Outer space, the inner realm of the deepest dream
A dream within a dream in a world
Of darkest light, in dooms dead light
Souls are frozen in movement, each an action
Of a normal life, now only echos in doom light
Faded mysteries of a time past
Each wraith, a shadow or shade of a different life
All lost in the darkest of noons brightest night
All wasting away in dooms light
The coming end of echos and reflections
Casting far, far from the deepest darkest night
All blind in the doom darkest light
(Rhyming Couplets)
People do anything for money and that's truthfully so.
Money may be green but it doesn't in the trees grow.
And now we wonder if we're living in the last days too
It is time for you to seek God's face repent and pray.
I worship and glorify His holy name every single day.
When I don't read His Word I'm really feel bad and sad.
So many things and situations make me in fact mad.
And now we wonder if we're living in the last days too.
The economy is awful and the mighty dollar gyrates downhill.
Unemployment is at its worst and my heart is truly ill.
Winter is bitter cold and frosty snow plummets from the sky.
Good times come and go and friends will betray one day too.
So many people believe they're very smart.
Some rise early and some make a late start.
Many watch and hear but they don't listen with their heart.
Sometimes I feel fine but now and then I want to cry.
I try so hard to understand some many things or hence I try.
And some of us wonder if we're living in the last days.
It is time for you to seek God's face repent and just pray.
You want all your problems and mistakes to go away.
You wish you have more time in your hands to play.
Money may be green but it doesn't in the trees grow.
People do anything for money and that's truthfully so.
Good times come and go and friends will betray you one day too.
There's too much on my plate but there isn't much to do to say.
I worry about my future as you make about your way.
But in my heart I love you so and always will think of you.
I bow my head and pray hard that we can stay alive this day.
Winter is bitter cold and frosty snow plummets from the sky.
It is time for you to seek God's face repent and just pray.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
December,12,2014
Deep in your “midnight pearl” I have immersed & lost myself,
Without you I yearn to be immersed & lost again all by myself.
Forever ...lost in you,
Aimlessly I wander around seeking with my thirst full wish, to be silently quenched sought.
I wander & wander,
On time's brink I dwell now, my lonely vigorous thrusts to sublimely surrender.
Within your “midnight pearl” I lose myself now,
Without you I find myself wanting & yearning to be lost again some how...
Forever ...lost in you.....
If I could have you every time I thought of you,
Both of us would lose ourselves every now and then to churn passions anew.
Alas my dreams about you & you,
Seem to elude me, but my love for you will always be true.
Will rises again and again from unfathomable depths of my hearts silently without a hue.
Lost in your thoughts “my midnight pearl” I aimlessly wander alone,
Forever to be lost in your thoughts, only to my heart, felt and known......
center>
by sashi.prabhu(zeauoxian)
written on 15/4/2012.
contest "midnight pearl"
The moment comes for sad farewell;
A brief song sums goodbye that tells;
Feelings go numb with parting spell.
So much of art in lines that speak;
Words from the heart with ebbs and peaks;
Space and time part in groans and tweaks.
Days in the sun where time unfolds;
Nights on the run in dreams untold;
Jest and wit pun in hot and cold.
Words tell a tale of fond fine verse;
Hope sparks a sale in faith once terse;
Love now avails what kind peace serves.
This journey here is but a flash;
A certain cheer marks a bright dash;
Pulse now must steer a lovely bash.
Verse weaves a glow in simple zest;
We come and go much like the rest;
A sanguine flow in gainful quest.
Here at the gate the weary pass;
Each to a fate in looking glass;
Set on a date in sacred trust.
Our ample daze is but a test;
Our problem craze brings out the best;
Our hidden maze forks out the rest.
Go now in peace as journey trends;
Go bring new ease to dare attend;
Go find increase in moments grand.
Farewell my friends from way back when;
Farewell to spends of now and then;
Farewell to blends of wordplay stand.
Here words can niche a sacred shore;
Find moments rich to word some more;
Write to dare reach with verse galore.
Press on and write to dare now share;
Ply witty cite to show you care;
Prime each new bite with more to spare.
Thank you so much for this sure stage;
Poise frees as such a poetry page;
Voice must indulge soul from life's cage.
The moment starts and ends too soon;
Watch cryptic art word pain's high noon;
Now mind and heart hurl a fond boon.
Leon Enriquez
29 December 2014
Singapore
My Most Embarrassing Moment
I had been performing at the top of my game for years
Not once had I caused any ‘on the job’ pains or tears
I have often heard it said that all good things must end
None are perfect, and therefore make mistakes now and then
On a nice and sunny day that quickly turned wet with rain
It was one that brought me total embarrassment and pain
I, a delivery driver, I’m ashamed to say, lost some of my cargo
I was afraid of losing my job as I went looking up, down, to and fro
No excuse! If I were my boss, I would have fired me and not hesitated
Our cargo was highly sensitive material and government regulated.
Unlike thousands of other work days, that particular day, I was not focused.
I was harder on myself than anyone else ever was, and felt totally disgusted.
The contracting company whose products I had lost demanded that I be fired.
My company’s owner refused such demands; firing me was not what he desired.
07162016 PS Contest, My Most Embarrassing Moment, by Cindi Rockwell
. . .
as a child I had an unwritten history in this world
blind, wailing and unaware, totally helpless
crying is all I knew of life at that time
deep in my throbbing heart a love was born
every day I was kissed and hugged by mother
full of wild mirth and infant joy, I laughed and smiled
gone now is that love for she lays in her tomb
hanging my head I write poems, pages and pages
in my soul I keep the memories from gathering dust
just yesterday, I reminisced a happy day of us
keeping the love from being lost, I write and write
look at me with your sad eyes
mother, I will paint poems full of love and grief
now and then, I gaze at the past with quivering tears
oh, and with my throbbing heart memories flow
past the clicking, ticking clock of life, I remove the dust
quietly, I bow my head at your tomb and let tears fall
returning often to clean the cold, weathered stone
sweet memories, memories, memories is all I have
till my last breath, no dust shall gather
until we meet beyond this domain of earth, I keep
visions of a realm where your beautiful soul sleeps
whatever time has destroyed, I must strive to remove the dust
xanadu, a garden lovely is where I dream that you dwell
your memory will never, ever, ever, ever gather dust, for
zillions of years from now my poetry will speak of deep love
_______________________________
February 26, 2015
Poetry/Abecedarian/I write poems, pages and pages
Copyright Protected, ID 02-644-734-25
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La FRance
For the Standard contest, Gathering Dust,
sponsor, John Lawless, Judged 03/2015
Second Place
POTD S.O.P.
POTD S.O.P.
POTD S.O.P.
POTD S.O.P.
same ones win
same winners won
no need to cite them
ad infinitum
POTD S.O.P.
POTD S.O.P.
POTD S.O.P.
POTD S.O.P.
they let different ones win
every now and then
carrot and stick for others
while each slowly smothers
POTD S.O.P.
POTD, rinse and repeat
POTD S.O.P.
POTD, rinse and repeat
your response may be
`he's never won POTD'
though what you say is true
so is what I say to you
POTD, rinse and repeat
POTD, rinse and repeat
POTD, rinse and repeat
POTD, rinse and repeat
we truly understand
they have the upper hand
time to scrap "special formula"
forging "fairness for all" phenomena
POTD, rinse and repeat
POTD S.O.P.
POTD, rinse and repeat
POTD S.O.P.
will change come or fail?
only time will tell
power to make it happen
lies with PS Admin
Until then, POTD S.O.P.
Until then, POTD S.O.P.
Until then, POTD S.O.P.
Until then, POTD S.O.P.
Thankless job, I think watching
as Thurman tries to teach the young man
The lad sitting up
on the tractor
like a proud young pup
is full of piss and vinegar
half the time not listening
and half the time telling Thurman
how much he already knows...
As Thurman patiently slumps
his still-sturdy but ungainly frame
against the tractor
fingers strumming his red suspenders
a good-natured grin
slowly spreading
across his grizzled face
gleaming behind think glasses
I see a glint of soft amusement
at this grandiose greenhorn
Thurman has lived through
the Great Depression, and then
the horror of hand-combat
in World War II
one of three from his unit
to make it through-
so there is nothing this little ingrate
can possibly do or say
to break Thurman's composure today
he remains uncommonly calm
and utterly unflappable
a small chuckle slipping out
every now and then
And while the young man boasts
and blusters on about
his plans for next week
Thurman is mostly quiet, until
at length, asked about his plans
“Lord willing-
and the creek don't rise...”
he begins, knowing how
much could change by then
From the moment we are born…when we first open our eyes to see
we begin writing a book…an album…our autobiography.
As we grow…as each minute, hour and day goes by
our book gets filled with our joys…our sorrows…our laughter…and our cries.
Just look at all our families…from the moment a new family dawns
think of all the writing every minute that goes on.
The funny thing is as each new day…out upon the world we look
we are also being written into other people’s books.
The good news is as we grow up, make new friends perhaps start a family of our own
since we are in the pages of so many books…we need never feel alone.
However…as our family has new experiences and have new people whom they meet
there is a part of this whole process I find a little bittersweet.
When our children are young…at a very early stage…
when we look into their book…I can be found on every page.
But as they grow up…move away…and continue writing on their own…
as they’re meant to do
I find myself relegated to an occasional mention…
in a page…or in a chapter…maybe two.
But I’m okay with this…which is why…on this Thanksgiving day
as I think about our son who long ago…
and now our grandson and his wife…who recently moved away.
I’m thankful and it makes me smile remembering a time
where everywhere I looked
I could be found on almost every page…certainly every chapter in their books.
And though I may not show up in their books as often now…
I smile and am still thankful when….
I am mentioned on a page or in a chapter…
every now and then.