Long Of late Poems

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


My Missing Muse

My Missing Muse

I have tried to write as of late,
but my mind has become a true blank slate.

My keyboard is bored and my ideas are bland.
I have to think of something grand.

Lately I lack poetic thought, thus I’m feeling quite distraught. 
 
Maybe new themes will come to mind, if I read some antique poems of mine.

 I have written about nature, 
 birds like ducks, 
 a child’s marker freckles,
 a coffee cup.

A retired boat resting on the shore,
dirty socks behind a door. 

I’ve penned 2 poems about Monet and VanGogh.
Now Degas? I don’t know.                    

Lady Di who danced in her royal gown,
but sadly now listens to angel sounds.
Her love for people was always increasing, but my poetic thoughts,now decreasing.


A teapot and a tuffet, diddle diddle dee. 
A sweet little bundle came to me.
Blueberries grow on a bush not a tree!
Still no ideas will come to me.

Two tired tulips on my windowsill doze.
Three ladybugs on a daffodil pose.
Now is the time I need to compose!

A chorus frog’s peeping has a dancing beat,
clicking,
croaking,
repeat.

Jumping rope in heels, the teacher who tried her best.   
Feathered fledglings sleeping in a Blue Egg mommy’s nest.

There is a wee granny in my apple tree.   
Bring your appetite, then you’ll see!

Trees dressed in acorns
Protect our seas
Echoing owls between forest trees. 

No new ideas coming into my head ?
My muse is hiding, I dread.

Cronkite,a reporting wiz,
closed the news, “That’s the way it is”
An unbiased journalist one could trust. 
Integrity, sincerity and principles, a must.      

TV shows,
Winter fairies on tiptoes.  
Still I have the blank slate woes!

A path of moonlight, dragonflies.     
Slowly summer says goodbye.
Soon the southern birds will fly.
Smell the season sunshine.

Crowds that cheer, “Alley Oop”
As basketballs find their longed for hoops. 

Aunt Gloria was warm in her Irish blue.
Little boy Benjamin lost his little shoe!  
His sister found it, "PEE U” 

“Hooray” I cheer. Now it seems more clear, I feel my blank slate might disappear.

I’m suddenly feeling passion for more creative action!
Imagination,inspiration,determination!

My mental blankness is washing away.
New topics to write about, coming into play.

Now upside down silly fun.
To the writing teeter totter Marikate, have fun!
Form: Rhyme


Nostalgia

In this evening, I wear the perfect smile, and,
you’ll quake, in the wake of my guile 
Cause I’m the best liar you’ll ever meet,
Because, In a way, I swear, I’d  mean it
Not, to say that I believe it, but 
The intention’s there all the same

This is my confession, my admission of guilt.
Because, it’s upon good intentions, that the road to hell is built
I’m always  working toward my goals, and my dreams
But, in  self observation, I'm beginning to question my means
As of late, been having a lot of trouble, maintaining the tension in the telegraph lines 
And for that reason, the deserving will have no honorable mention
For these wires that run from ear to ear
 have been in disrepair, for the best part of the last year

And, this is my apology, as well as, a desperate plea
Because, in reality, I’m in need, of someone that can  save me,
Someone to be the monkey on my back
And one who possesses all that I lack
Someone who could, with words deify the drying of paint
And, since patience is a virtue, my girl will have to be a saint
Someone who bear with me, when I beg her to stay
and then push her away

Endearingly Awkward, is all I want to be
The martyr, with out the fee
But, the apprehension in me, doth decree
My title has the need for a higher degree
of precision, and simplicity 
And, In fear’s wake, I’m brought to my knees
And, despite my hearts desperate plea, 
I comply, and then cease to be, 
Until, love breathes her life into me

I  feel poison coursing through my logic
And capitulation that could be considered tragic
I’m growing weary, of this battle, 
In which my ambitions are roped like cattle, 
And slaughtered, just to end up filling the bowls and plates
Of, fear, my sworn enemy, the one I’ll never cease to hate

Considered jaded by some, and boring to most
I feel the part of the silhouette, or the ghost
But, in all honesty 
I am, in a word, broken. 
I don’t know, I cant even begin
To tell the difference between ecstasy and agony, 
Or know what to say, when asked about my identity.

in the evening, behind this perfect smile, at my fork in the road, 
contemplating left, or right, and carrying a hell of a load, .
I put faith in a coin toss, 
Not knowing which led to love, and which  to loss, 
caught in clenched fist, 
And slapped down on bare wrist, 
for an instant, i wonder
if this Is reprobation?
Or some road, leading to my vindication?

Premium Member Train

Cought a ride on a train
Just to get out of the rain
Love to hear that sound
But I have found
It  just leads to more people down the track
Panic attack
Today
I have a place to stay
I do not like to live this way
Health is bad
Kinda sad
Lived my own way
In life I never wished to stay
Passing through
Is all I seem to do
Do not wish no one any harm
All life has its own charm
But you are quick to harm me
Seems how my life was meant to be
Can you not see
I seek only what I can not find
Peace of mind
A home
Getting to old to roam
Have traveled far
Can not even afford a car
I carry all I have everywhere I go
Cause I know
Everything I have ever had
And this is sad
You people take
I choose trust, a bad decision to make
You make my soul shake
Makes a tear
For each year
I have been on the road
Carrying my load
Time doesn't fly
And we barely get by
Makes me feel hate
Do not wish for that fate
I care not for getting you back
I have no need to attack 
As I walk away
You have home to stay
I have just me
Yes I'm exactly what it is you see
From this life I wish to be free
I choose to walk away
So have a nice day
I can see you smile
All the while
Behind your back is a knife
Cause you are part of the strife
This is my life
I have no home
So I roam
But I can see
How things really be
Cannot be a part of your hate
I have changed my fate
So I walk away
 Must be nowhere left to stay
I walk my own path now
I am still learning how
My life is the rhyme 
 I ask no one for a dime
Is this a crime
Must be so
Everywhere I go
It is the same
Guess no one is to blame
So much hate
Of late
Does not matter 
My wallet does not get any fatter
My legs grow weak
Sometimes my eyes leak
At what I have saw
Hate should be against the taw
Hate is humanitys main flaw
Heart grows bad
No, I am not sad
I have had enough
Tired of being tough
So away from people I stay
It is the only way
So far I have come
Forgotten where I came from
I am better off than some
I have me
So much of life I did not see
Learned to live as one with the land
Something I well understand 
The animals wild as they be
Are just like me
Just wanting to be free and alone
But what life has shown
Love is no longer grown
So I will stay
Away
Maybe someday
Things may change
Rearrange
Hate is a sin
I hope it does not win
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Chinese Girl I Took To a Nunnery

A Chinese girl I took to a nunnery

			I

I led her
Her silent leg-irons cutting into my shins
That day when the air stood still
Dry as the day perhaps on the hill
					when he spoke standing still
Drier still my words today
	of a redundant ransom of flesh:

	I’ll take you to the stopping place 
        Where the quiet cowled nuns make lace
	They run a school for well-bred girls
	In a cloistered fenced-in arbour
	There where you’d have no need for curls

She turned just then seven and ten
Me barely two more        when
She said in a breathless moan:

	Take me to the French Convent
	Here my road has come to an end
	       I want to learn
               I want to gain
	As much knowledge as my brain
		Will strive to contain

I had no choice
I had no voice
In a Chinese school which stopped midways
She was the best of forty times five
Where I was hoarse from English and Science

She sat so close in the front row
She must have felt my breath at home
Her cowlick hand stretched crooked
Brushed my thoughts down my mane

Something about her dragging gait
Spoke of late hours as a kitchen mate
Or as the matron of squabbling squawking siblings
When the mother scrubbed and ironed
	the landlord’s lingerie and loins

A saddened face she kept awake
All through the hours at stake

			II

It took me days and days of doubting pains
To ring at last the nunnery bell 
And to stare aghast at a pallid face 
Not quite white and not quite couched in cowl
To register my request

The novice drew and barred the door
As though I would break down the wall
And as the minutes raced in anguish by
And I heard the rusted pig-iron latch click open
Two forbidding eyes contemplated my plight
Under strictly starched and stretched folds a-sail:

	“Is she Catho…” she made to ask
Then as urgently withdrew her demand.
	“Bring her tomorrow at eight,” she let her words
escape.
	“Ring the bell at the gate.”

I never saw the demure girl again.
Her schoolmates thought she worked for the nuns.
Others: “ She took some vows!”
A sibling: “ She took no clothes for a change!”

Just before her silhouette effaced itself
Under the porch of creepers dense
She turned to give me a look:
	
	Was it a look of despair
	Or a well-thought-out
		                 farewell fair?

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Breath of Life

---------------------------------------------------------
------   this is meant with a degree of humor   -----
------  but I know, joy is in the ears that hear  -----       
---------------------------------------------------------

To quote as truth a source for which
You otherwise show great disdain
Is humorous at best, a stitch
That some might say was not quite sane.

And if you cherish this sweet book,
But have not read it much of late,
It’s time you took another look,
And gave some other verses weight.

If Genesis is normative
For when it is all life begins
Then we should take a closer look
At other verses close therein.

For “breath of life” can only be
Applied to one by “Adam” called;
That you’d apply this verse to Eve?
Oh, exegete! Do be appalled!

In fifteen verses, very clear,
We see God do a nice ad lib,
Puts Adam in a heavy sleep
And liberates Eve from his rib!

Now something here just can’t be right;
No, something here just doesn’t jive.
God’s “breath of life” did not her grace;
The woman cannot be alive!

To call these verses normative
Is simply ludicrous, of course.
The “breath of life” God gave the dust?
Not air, but animating force.

And in this telling of our firsts
neither of them come from a womb,
So literal or figurative,
we need to give these verses room.

A babe will breath when it is born
On schedule or ahead of time.
You know that’s not the entry point:
As silly as a talking mime.

Way back in John, when Christ appears
upon arising, after death,
Gives the disciples Spirit then,
Conferring it with sacred breath.

Were they then dead before he breathed?
In some sense, yes, perhaps contrived
Christ’s Spirit thus has come to stay;
Spiritually, they are alive.

You don’t belive that labor does
Somehow propel those clumps of cells
By magic through the birth canal
And then form babes when they’re expelled?

Of course not, or there’d be a glitch
In logic with regard to sections.
But nobody believes all that;
it's just a case of misdirection.

We read a babe lept in the womb;
In Psalms, He forms our inward parts.
Christ, too, alive, ere left the tomb,
And now, he’s giving life to hearts.

Let’s study then, the scriptures well;
Bereans be: look for yourself.
Review in depth when life begins,
Not leave His counsel on the shelf?
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member I Will Be Leaving the Soup For a Short While

How do you define love?
I mean what is it really,

How can I feel so much love for so many 
people here that I barely know 
...because I do.

You have all been so kind and accepting of me.

Many of you know how I feel.
That I know I am not a poet.

I am not fishing for a compliment when I say this.
I know how kind you all are.
People have been more than complimentary 
of my work here.
It is how I feel and I do not want to get 
long winded as to why.
 It is what it is.

You have an amazing community here
don't let any one trample over it.
Keep supporting one another
Keep your loving ways. 

No matter your religious beliefs
there is a light here that shines bright.
So I won't impose my beliefs but I think
I can safely say without offending 
anyone this community is blessed.

Forgive those who stray, many of us here
are bruised some worse than others. We
make errors. Again I love the people here.
All the people here.

I have not been able to comment on others poetry
as much as I have wanted to of late.

I am especially sorry to my friends whose poetry
I have not frequented lately. How rude of me.
Everyone deserves their wonderful poetry read.
No excuses just I am sorry.

I want to thank all the people who placed me
in their contests and also thank those who
didn't. I believe in my heart of hearts people
always judged fairly. Sponsoring contests
is difficult everyone second guesses you.
In retrospect I learned and I grew from every
experience. Thank You.

So my loving friends, I am not here to say goodbye.
I am here to say au revoir! 
I will be taking a small break from Poetry Soup.

I hope to return soon. To learn my limits poetically
and to stay within them. Enter less contests,
read more, comment more and post less.

I don't know how I can thank you all for your
unconditional kindness.
So many of you have touched my heart,
made me cry.
Sometimes sad, sometimes happy tears.

I am sorry because it is hard for me not
to love you all so much and I know it
must sound insincere but it is me
this is my heart, this is who I am
I love you because of your poetry,
because of your comments,
because you supported me even in my blindness
held my hand and showed me a path I could walk on. 
How do you thank someone for that.

With All My Love Always, 
Armand.
Form: Prose

Taking Chances Second Guessing

Never have put all my faith, in someone I've not met
but when it comes to Presidents, I had to hedge my bet
I listened, just to what was said, from the horses mouth
teleprompter easy read, what's from his heart went south

Everyone just turns away, because of who has spoken
the little "adlibs" at the end, are called a "trademark token"
It took awhile to readjust, not comfortable at first
waiting for the "Hope and Change", instead things just got worse

I don't put words in peoples mouths, news briefly passes by
hesitations, pauses too, just watch and you'll know why
His demeanor says it all, can't look you in the eye
like a child's hand in a cookie jar, caught in another lie

I voted Independent, just like I always do
"08" I said I'll take a chance, and vote for something new
Took a chance and voted once, against what's in my heart
hoping this would be the one, to give us a fresh start

Listened to the arguments, on both the Left and Right
checked my dwindling bank account, it's almost out of sight
Some people think I'm selfish now, look at the flag I've flown
it's odd I've no Entitlements, and pay for my own Phone

How do you let him off the hook, divided we now stand
his bitterness shows near and far, beyond the Rio Grand
If you don't agree with him, they say you're spewing hate
they won't sit down and talk it out, no common sense of late

People think they understand, compassion in their hearts
you have "yours", let them have "theirs", forget that "theirs is ours"
Try to remain civilized, and show them you do care
he seems to think we "owe the world", his way to make it fair

Redistribution of our wealth, the "Robin Hood" effect
give it to the "have-nots, their life is such a wreck
If you never worked for "it", believe me you're not owed
reason for the "Bridge Card"?  We won't know we've been snowed

He's not alone you understand, "bad apple in the bunch"
I really think he tops the list, of course that's just a hunch
We can go back a lot of years, "W M D s" and more
his sights are set, it's "Tunnel Vision", to give away the "Store"

Bring them in, from down below, he'll smile and look away
knowing well, that all of them, are surely here to stay
A scary thought (you know it's true) he's letting ISIS in
his hope and change "America", he tries, but will not win.....
© Pete Yuhas  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

If I Could Cry In Color

Intro 
I stayed up to watch the moon set 
didn't care much for the sun rising. 
I felt the heaviness in my chest 
a piece of me was mourning. 
A blue bird landed on my fence, 
but that was not surprising.

Verse 1 
I caught my reflection, 
in the mirror, 
it reminded me that I am still here. 
My world is dark and gray, 
outside I, 
I can hear, 
all the little children play 
& 
I cried for a brand new start.

(chorus) 
If only I could cry in color 
to bring life into my hurting world, 
to paint a picture so perfectly 
to fix this hurting girl. 
If my tears were bubbles 
they could easily float away, 
they wouldn't be so subtle 
dripping down my face.

And if I could cry in color 
imagine what would be. 
To paint a perfect picture 
and fix this hurting girl in me.

Verse 2 
He told her that he loved her 
and he would never leave, 
until she became a mother 
and she was only 17.

She had a lot of late nights 
and lost her chance to dream. 
She bottled up 
her regrets, 
it just wasn't what it seemed. 
She softly kisses 
her babies head, 
But her heart lets out a 
scream.

(chorus) 
If only I could cry in color 
to bring life into my hurting world, 
to paint a picture so perfectly 
to fix this hurting girl. 
If my tears were bubbles 
they could easily float away, 
they wouldn't be so subtle 
dripping down my face.

Verse 3 
17 turned 25, 
the years they seemed 
to race on by, 
my grand-baby's 
playing outside 
and the bluebirds on the fence. 

My daughter, I 
am not surprised 
took care of all 
the teary eyes 
And now its making sense

Verse 4 
She holds her growing 
daughters hand 
at her graduation, 
the view of 
the 
love they shared 
will forever shine 
without hesitation

Time has not been shy, 
43 years have passed us by, 
yet there is a blue bird on the fence. 
Reminding me of the creative paint 
and the children's innocence.

(chorus) 
If only I could cry in color 
to bring life into my hurting world, 
to paint a picture so perfectly 
to fix this hurting girl. 
If my tears were bubbles 
they could easily float away, 
they wouldn't be so subtle dripping down my face.

And if I could cry in color 
imagine what would be. 
To paint a perfect picture and fix this hurting girl in me 

Copyright © Lisanne Hassen
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Wrongs

The way it is today
I must say
So much hate
Of late
Such a sad fate
People crying over wrongs in the past 
Things that did not even then last
Lifes that were torn
Before we were even born
Fighting over what they believe
Words hidden beneath the sleeve
Such a disgrace
Cause we are all the same race
Words become stone
When your all alone
Watch what you say
It is the new way
Feelings becoming easy to hurt
By someone not curt
Your life is better than mine
My light never did shine
Just standing in line
Wasting time
Writing this rhyme
Watching the world go up in smoke
With fear the world starts to choke
I will have another toak
Watching the war machine start coming alive
All that jive
That powers that be
Can no longer see
What is right for us
Giving us reasons to fuss
Hiding tomorrow
With our own sorrow
By making us have to beg and borrow
So many without a home
Left to roam
So many hiding behind a locked door
Afraid those without, may want a little more
Just to get by
Do it or die
The harder we try
The anger starts to simmer
The light becomes dimmer
I want this I want that
Some just sit there and get fat
The poor pulling their dinner out of their hat
The hungry crying out for more
Closer draws this war
We fight among ourselves
For imaginary wealths
We let our hearts grow cold
Or souls, sold
Hate
Fate
Way too late
We fight with each other
No time for our brother
Love starts to smother
The fire
Gets higher
Spreads across the land
 Alone we each stand
Each tick of the clock
More guns cock
More hearts start to lock
Directing our attention away
From what's really going on today
Misdirection with news that is fake
Giving us the wrong direction to take
So the more bad decisions we make
 The war among us remains unseen so far
But sticks to us like tar
Building up with each day
Cannot trust what anyone has to say
This is the new way
I see
What could be
What is coming around
Our hands become bound
Blind becomes our eyes
This is the time of lies
My heart cries
War
Finds our door
War of hate
Is now our fate
No reason to ask why
Every reason to die
As fire burns the sky
To late we see
How things really be
They held our attention so long
On things we thought were wrong
Did not see till too late
This change of fate
Brought on by hate
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Mama Said Mama Said

______________________________________________________________
        It still hurting alot
    Mother, it hurts so much 
methinks my head is about to, I can
fathom that thought of my head will             o
explode, bits and pieces of me scattered________________t
around for all to see the shiny in's
of me because of my denied dues
not to be like autumn trees and
thrush of life's breaths shedding              
whites off my hair expose its amber
If I surrender will I get my summer,
our talk that soured will sweeten 
the hour? Query on hold. Hold, 'tis
aching yearns for its light skin tones
some shade, some toning to
hide. A walking dead 
they'll see--weird, beach
sand, I face yet ere me
a challenge be                                                ca ut io us ly
taken out thy sullen                                          pose fates
a wild, wild guess, be                                my knees subtly 
repenting. Nay, not knees,                   essence.  A noun,         trickery.           Shall I count the days spent                     within your               tummy, 
Mommy? Oh very well I will clean            my room                      until the
day comes when  I raise my hand and that all                    five fingers, you'll see thee  racist who had emerged in my mirror of late, and cast then shadows                   just out of sight            seize d--arrested in plain view    by America's                       finest doing                        bet   review                     to say 
that justice                             is well                           seems to                                                                                                  be in order
from what                                                                I   see,
there are                                                            fingers   of
contempt                                                     and to    my
mirror grip                                               negativity,
I offer thee                                            the pleasure                                 
of my knee,                                   lest my feet get 
in the weigh ...,                    of a deserving
kick, one goes awry like a brat such as I.
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Shape

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