Long One word Poems
Long One word Poems. Below are the most popular long One word by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long One word poems by poem length and keyword.
True Christmas Miracle True Story Full version written by Wendy Horder. 2020
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
The interrogation threatens to shudder like an earthquake
A long index of accusations spread out among the atmosphere like a blazing forest fire
Satisfaction, the officer and venomous umbrage, the criminal
Self-appreciation, the quiescent defense attorney with no right to be there
Misery, the boisterous dauntless prosecutor
The months of the annual calendar, the jury
Pain, the almighty judge
It’s a court case already divested from the defendant
Why should it not
Bother, why bother
Its past the millionth time in 216 divided by the jury
Satisfaction has seen countless rewards of capturing umbrage
Satisfaction has felt the boundless benevolence of glory
And foaming at the mouth, glowering with muffled respected fury
Sits umbrage, staring out blurred vision
Victimized in his own apperception
What’s the cost, the damage total; what has befell, befell reality
The anathema of fate or rather the favored affliction of fortune’s fool
Within a realm of possibility it may perceive to be both
A pebble laced with a thread thrown into grass only miles away
To be reeled right back in like a helpless fish on a line
The audacity, the audacity; oh just hush
Silence is golden and this silence is benevolent
Joy was once prevalent in the company of such disgrace umbrage reigned
Together they were serenity, a mixed graceful period of harmony
Such a song sung by dual owls in the presence of the lightened darkness of night
(sigh) …I can’t do this anymore
Make a world, create a story peacefully
Creating a plot circulating, tip-toeing around the issues placing bait in front of my eyes for me to take
What is wrong with me, my life
One word, a sharp enough blade to stab in the ankle to slaughter Achilles
In this case, me
The poet’s banishment, scourge creating a series of nine lashes
Still runs deep, refuses cessation
Proceeds to feed on every ounce of merriment to permeate through the cracks
Melancholy has produced to invade back in
What’s the cause this time for it to attack
A few simple words, reflection, swift defiance
the bruises upon the right appendage whispering, begging for more scars
FOR WHAT? ! ? ! ? ! ? !
Forget it….it’s nothing
Satisfaction has pardoned me, set me free
Umbrage, my twin has taken over me
To another bridge, we sit and sulk over a failed attempt at flight
Cause we willingly defy the right to say goodnight
Warning - Mature.
Sweet night, a blanket made from scented space - holds this would-be poet in its arms.
Tightly - yet with care. Caring - yet with passion. Smiles her heart. Trembles her dreams. Hides them silverine in moments indescribable. Night caresses her spirit with unspoken thoughts, echoing from places foreign to her understanding.
From time taken by liberties, he waits, stubbled chin resting in broad cupped palm. He longs for her. Needs in the flame of passion's roar to fly that time long laid in stone.
Clouds drift. Days flee. Eons wreak weather to endless confusion. Creatures fall within time. Fossils lie crushed in their past. Ocean drowns land. Land erupts from water. Breathing rents the air. One step. A second. Knees buckle. She waits in her wondering why and what.
Hidden within cloud where the highest mountains touch the sky, the man sits. Alone, he is, wrapped in silence. He groans, wanting. Weeps. Prays to the gods, calls to the elements. Weeps more.
A sound, gentle, soft said, drifts space. Man hears. Wonders. Frowns. Understands. Wanting becomes pain. He groans. He moans. He laughs! Somewhere, she sleeps!
A rippled breath gasps my palm,
floats 'tween fingers flexed,
darts space behind my ear, laughs my neck
caressing thoughts I've not yet dreamed..
what language now,
what meanings, what delight,
pray tell?
you touch me with a hint of
honeyed power -
oh sybarite -
wrap me in heat so high I sizzle in my sleep..
look me.. sheet rushed aside I wait,
I moan, I sigh
to float 'tween fingers formed too much,
intentions still unsure but now.. oh now..
you lean forward
closer..
closer..
inhaling deeply..
sensing my gender
sighing -
sighing yet more
until..
temptation dared
and passion flared
I soar, I fly,
thereby -
thereby
however perceived
evol becomes reality
turned inside out upon its cap of what you will
emotions motion..
tumble in
turn and
turnabout,
spinning words, knitting language into shape..
explorers of such subjects
binding heart to hope and - yes
exotic inamorati all,
lie bed or floor or chair or shore
let loose that secret word
that spell - that lost civility
from A past where and when
when
one word
once found
once felt
once shared
was is forever..
love
My wife and I have lived in our present home for more than 14 years, and I think that the loveliest time of the year in our community is the fall season. One look at a tall leafy tree can take your breath away. One such tree is just across the street from our house. When I saw it, one word sufficed. Wow!
Although I am certain that this tree has grown taller and broader over the course of fourteen years, there were years that transpired before I even noticed it's beauty. For years, it's beauty was more than 'bark deep' and staring down at me, but I never noticed.
It was only about four to five years ago that I was walking down the hall on the second floor of our home. When I looked up, I was deeply moved by the sight of the tree. It seems that all things simply came together at that particular moment. Both the door and the window blinds in that North facing room were open, and I was treated to the awesome sight of that tall fall tree.
It was as if I had just awakened from a long sleep, or had hidden in a cave. The summer green had turned a beautiful golden yellow. It was as if a voice yelled out and said, "Just Look At Me! ". The power of orange captivated me, and I was arrested by a live portrait, painted by the hand of God. I have looked forward to the sight every year since.
The tree did not have a facelift or makeover, and it had not moved closer nor farther away from my view. But at that moment, it cried out for me to notice and observe its stunning beauty. With pleasure, I was mesmerized and beheld its awesomeness. On that occasion, I did not glance or pause for a quick look, because this time I was not hurried or too busy to look, as I must have been for so many years prior. I was stopped completely in my tracts and drawn toward the tree for a closer view.
Perhaps this fall tree encounter speaks so much about my life and thinking that has slowed and changed over the last few years. Perhaps I can see and feel more of what really matters because the pace of my life has been slowed. I have a much clearer view because the hot summers of my busy life have departed. I am no longer blinded by the forest because a single, exquisite, and distinguished tree has yelled out to me. The tree of picture-perfect orange has ordered me to stop and stare.
11212011 PS Contest, 09142017, Autumn Colors, Nayda Negron, 2P
What is love?
This sentence came to me one day.
What is love?
It’s when my spouse kisses me, you say
But is that what love is? Doesn’t it have more than one meaning?
What about when you get home and your kids are cleaning?
Isn’t love when you leave your puppy at home all day,
but when you get back, he kisses you anyway?
Isn’t love when you're parents put food on the table,
or when they make soup cause you're sick and not able.
How about when you're friends play with you on the slides,
even when they wanna do something else, like roll down a hillside?
Is love when you go through a breakup,
but you're friends bring you ice cream and wipe off your makeup.
I thought love was when you got in a fight,
but you admit you were wrong and then reunite?
Is it when someone cries for you,
or when you always have someone to fall back onto.
How about when your mom sings you to bed,
or what about when your husband still loves you with bed head?
Is love when your spouse tells you you're beautiful,
or when you get your wisdom teeth out and he makes you something chewable?
Is love when you're best friend gets the bad news one day,
and all you can do is sit there and pray?
Is love when the doctors say he won’t last much longer,
but how long does that mean is all you can wonder?
Is love when you go to their hospital bed,
and tell them everything the doctors have said?
The cancer is there, it won’t go away,
but they look at you, and grab your hands to pray.
Is love when they sleep and close their eyes,
and you lay your head on their chest, and just cry?
Is love when God takes them from your hand,
but brings them to a better land?
God brings them to heaven where there is no more pain,
but somehow you know you will see them again.
Is love the fact you know they are right by your side,
never to leave you because their soul never died.
Is love when you know they aren’t too far away,
they will be your angel each and every day
Is it when you know they are next to you now,
“forever by your side” they kept their vow
Is love knowing God cares so much,
giving you memories forever to clutch.
Love is when you go to heaven and see you best friend again,
and love knowing you have so many great things, even with sin
Love is something unpredictable,
but there’s only one word for it…love is unconditional.
I
are you ready to play with words and games of the soul....to bring out the
labyrinth that is within the sacred soul??
w/U absolutely
I can start with chimes of alter mimes within my alter rhyme
ok
a shoot of expectation....uprooting congregation....my own ramification of self
altercation...the way I fan the flame
the utmost juxtapose...the beginning of our game
gimme a word,though even if absurd....and I'll reply in time
YES
gimme a subject, and I'll congregate...verbs and nouns to subjagate...places to
fill with mynd
Love
love entangled, be it obtuse...let's say it's a caboose....of a place we may contain
I'll seclude it to a space, where we can't replace...where there can't be an easy
refrain...
more
gimme more...and I'll abhore more words and junctures to place within...I'm
waiting on a whim...the space I'll call " to win"
one word is all I ask.. and we'll drink upon the flask...together on the clouds...a
placement of feelings, fragments...a war of truth and wills
heart
a heart can only beat itself....like lonely Irish elfs....misunderstanding value...of
which way to go.;...the non = ending ebb and flow...I want to understand where
these feelings come from...
are they derived from lonliness or boredom...in the back room or corridor...a
package of the heart...where do feelings start?:
adjudication and frustration is what I feel constantly....the placement of my
feelings a continual
mystery...
I love the way U write, have I told U that?
am I manic or just a substantial panic - meister....can I ever kick this system in
the ****...thats what I want to observe...
I'm more intense in person...and I don't mean to make tensions worsen...I only
wish to widen the width of this scythe...
I like the way U talk
that is why I keep talking to U
He came to see the children that season of each year,
He listened to them closely as they whispered in his ear.
Each had a special present they wanted so to see
When they got up on Christmas and looked under the tree.
He smiled and he would hug them and pose for pictures, too,
He loved this time with children; it was such fun to do.
One day as he sat talking, he glanced out from his eye
And saw an older child that there was passing by.
He saw him in his wheelchair as he, too, got in line;
He wondered what he’d ask for that he could say, “That’s mine.”
He didn’t have to wait long, for soon the child was there,
And he looked up at Santa with his curly, golden hair.
His smile was warm and friendly, and Santa smiled back, too,
“Now tell me, little fellow, what I can bring for you.”
“I don’t need any presents,” the boy began to say,
“I have just one desire to ask of you today.
You see, I’m just a cripple, as you can plainly tell,
But Santa what I’m asking is can you make me well?”
The question startled Santa, and he began to cry,
He hugged the child closely with tears there in his eyes.
It seemed it was forever he held him in embrace,
Then he looked at the child, with tears there on his face.
He got up from his chair then, not one word did he say,
He took the crippled child to a place not far away.
He pointed to a manger where a small baby lay
And tried between his sobbing to find the words to say.
“I cannot heal you, child, but there’s someone who can;
He once was this small baby, but He became a man.
He healed so many people while He dwelt here below,
And if you trust Him, child, He’ll heal you, too, I know.
For He died for each person--we all have sin’s disease,
And lives again forever, and God with Him is pleased.
You see, I know this Savior, He’s not like Santa Claus;
He’s real and He is living; He came here with a cause.
Some day if you will trust Him, He’ll take you far away
Where you will not be crippled; you’ll run and jump and play.”
The crippled boy looked there then at that child in the hay
And he, too, started crying, then he began to pray.
“Lord Jesus, I believe You, take me, a crippled lad,
Make me Your child forever, help me not to be bad.”
That crippled child was singing as he held out his fist
And shook hands again with Santa, for he had got his wish!
True Christmas Miracle
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
Today we celebrate Noah Webster and his creation…the dictionary…without them you might say we’d be speechless…we’d have no vocabulary.
For how important are words once they form within our heads…with their ability to evoke emotions the moment they are said.
A word, itself, is not beautiful or ugly…complimentary or demeaning…it’s only in the context and the way we say it that gives a word it’s meaning.
Words when spoken from a place of love have a musical refrain…words when spoken from a place of hate are meant to damage and cause pain.
Some words make us feel good and bring with them happiness…let me name a few…there’s freedom, laughter, joy, peace, love, compassion and family too.
Some words when uttered leave fear and sorrow in their wake…like Alzheimer’s, Aids, war, death…tornado and earthquake.
I remember when a friend informed us her doctor wanted to see…if cancer was growing inside her…so she ordered a biopsy.
Biopsy…now there’s a word with the ability to fill ones heart with fear…as you anxiously and hopefully wait for the doctor to say the words you want to hear.
It’s interesting that as word spread of her biopsy that was planned….words of encouragement came rushing to her from all across the land.
Words of love…of compassion and support…words easy to comprehend…drifted softly…blended together and landed on our friend.
Our words were one way of showing her we were thinking of her…that we cared…one way to let her know her fear and apprehension was something we all shared.
And as we all awaited the results…hoping our world might realign…our apprehension turned to exhilaration when we heard the word…benign.
It is amazing how one day one word can cause so much woe..so much anguish and concern…and the next day another word replaces it allowing joy and happiness to return.
And so I wonder if Mr. Webster, the lexicographer, would agree…if we only used kind word from his dictionary…how happy we’d all be.
How words of kindness and love are an investment used to gather friends…and one day, when we need it…those words pay dividends.
For when I think of our friend’s frightening experience…it is the words of her friends I recall….leaving me to wonder if words of love…of support…of kindness…of compassion and of friendship…aren’t the most beautiful words of all.
Please read and rate. I know it's a bit long but it is worth reading.
Our relationship was fun but after all we've been through
I can finally say this is my last good-bye to you.
Almost two weeks and not one word, you just don't know my pain.
How I called you and got no answer 25 times in the course of just three days.
I gave you all of me but that wasn't enough still
and I thought that if I waited you would feel what I feel.
I use to cut for you one hundred percent and now I'm stuck feeling sorry for
myself.
because if I needed your support but you didn't gain from it, you didn't give me
any help.
I gave you my heart because I thought you deserved it but now I have to take it.
because if I let you keep on with this fake sh...t, you will eventually break it.
I thought I had lost my opportunity with you because of my bad luck.
But you told me to have patience and the reason? Because you're Chuck.
you said I didn't have to fear lies, deceit, or deception.
But a pair of lips will say anything and I guess yours are no exception.
and you decided not to decide because you had the best of both worlds:
One for passion, one for obedience; but two hella-yella girls.
Like a delicate rose, you left me untended and so I gradually wilted.
I had such passionate emotion for you but you finally killed it.
and even then I knew that I was probably just some one to get you off.
But you made me so ecstatic, I dared to pay the cost.
and my heart grew more attached to you every time we f...cked.
But I told myself that I was safe because the last person to hurt me would be
Chuck.
And now I want to say lets just be friends but I'm so hurt that it just won't work.
You had no motive for what you did now I rate you as a jerk, no, something
worse.
I would lay in bed at night and wonder why what you did had no emotional effect
on you.
But I finally found out that I'm not the first because you have hurt another girl too.
You left her heart broken because you chose to choose De.
and if you did that to her then you'll definitely do it to me.
After ten months of creeping, crawling and all of that bullsh..t.
I'm finally burned out and so now I must quit.
I waisted almost a whole year and I have nothing to show for it.
to be continued
names have been changed for my sake