Long One year Poems
Long One year Poems. Below are the most popular long One year by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long One year poems by poem length and keyword.
The Dogs we called Family
Tara came first and then there was Ben,
When both of them died we said never again.
Then Sam the runner, got killed in the street,
Prince came and went quick, we didn't know he was sick.
He came from a farm where distemper was rife,
Took him to the vet where he ended his life.
One year had to pass to get our house clear,
Without a mutt there, it seemed without cheer.
One day I was out and the Pound I happened to pass,
I doubled back and I looked through the glass.
Inside I walked, many dogs ignoring my stare,
Until one at the end looked up at me square,
Sat on her haunches both paws outstretched.
She's the one, I knew, so my family I fetched.
I said nothing to them of the dog I had seen,
When they saw the same one I knew they were keen.
The dog was due for the jab that very hour,
To save her life now was in our power, you see.
We paid the fee for her life, Our Lucy was free.
She was the new member added to our family of four,
She lived with us and loved us for 19 years more.
While she was with us we had another to add,
Along came Jamie the Yorkie,he was a bit of a lad.
Like Ben he stayed near ten years and sadly passed.
Lucy died of old age, we said it's time to give in.
Our Garden Cemetery of loved ones was full to the brim.
To Cyprus we came to retire and live in the sun,
Of a dog in the family we didn't want one.
Then a visit to Larnaca was to change our life again,
Because along came Lexi to start it all over again.
She was soon followed by Levi, he was a lively one,
Then came Eli, the whirlwind and pain in the bum.
So from just us two forever as we'd planned,
Now we were five and life was once again grand.
A sad day loomed we had no idea of what was to come,
Levi was walking wrong so we took him to the vet
He had hurt his spine, as bad as it could get.
His rear end gave out and could not be reversed.
He was paralyzed, and getting steadily worse.
The love he gave us in his life reduced us to tears.
The vet said it's time he confirmed our worst fears.
We let him go to where he could romp with all the rest,
All the dogs in our family, they were the best.
With Tara and Ben, Jamie,Charlie the Pinscher and Lucy too
Neo the Collie and Big Ben & Storm the Rottweilers two,
Newfoundland Curtis and Demon the Chow,
All Pals together, in the Big Kennel now.
© Dave Timperley May 5th 2016
...A child who’d never know a father
that had deserved him more than she could tell,
knowing that she must lie to her husband,
the truth of it would not end very well.
The moments when she should feel only joy,
she just felt despair she could not avoid.
The weight of it all pushed Whitney to drink,
she hid it well, since Jerry worked a lot,
the au pair did most care for the baby,
since inside Whitney was nagged by dark thoughts,
she’d see her youngest, and think of her loss,
then call the au pair, and hand the babe off.
This pattern went on for about a year,
all of her family noticed the grim mood,
Jerry did his best to cater to her,
but despite this Whitney didn’t improve,
when, despite her kids, everything seemed wrong,
when in her own life she didn’t belong.
It wasn’t suicide that claimed Whitney,
at least it was not the conscious sort,
it came when she’d exhausted her wine,
and without a thought, went out to the store,
far enough gone that she didn’t realize
that she had no business trying to drive.
Her car was found at the base of a bridge,
she gone so fast she’d burst through the guard rail,
the coroner said she’d died in impact,
when Jerry heard of the news he just wailed,
he may not have held the love of his wife,
but to him she’d been the love of his life.
JERRY
Jerry found himself in a trying place,
alone with three children, one of them young,
working full time to keep everyone fed,
without nannies he would get nothing done.
But even then, his children were depressed,
not understanding the whole of this mess.
He’d never been an emotional man,
but he tried his best to be there for them,
especially their one-year old baby,
who, of course, needed so much attention,
Jerry’s hair turned gray trying to keep up,
and he was still mourning for his lost love.
He managed to find some sort of balance,
some way to keep his kids going through this,
they were the only good this he had left,
the only reason he cared to persist,
alone he had little time for himself,
it did take a toll on his mental health.
He’d no time for dating, didn’t want to,
it still hurt too much to not see Whitney,
all his time was spent with his three children,
there was none left for fun or for hobbies,
Jerry felt himself a shell of a man,
everything was struggle, there was no more plan...
CONTINUES IN PART V.
For one full year I have been thrown in the lion`s den
And the lion has been running and jumping
And pulling savagely at my leg
The philistines also surround me
with a hidden weapon dancing beneath me
And the church with all it`s hyprocrasy and
white hats barking down the hill
looked at me in dismay as I ran virougsly up the hill
If I am hungry no one knows, if I am sick no one knows
If I am sad, no one knows and when I am at peace with them
They throw tissue paper in my face and called me the Devil from hell
They call me names but I stand looking at them without shame
If only I could get through this day,
I would hold up my hands and say
This is just another day.
Yes this is just another day and you have
to embrace it before your heart goes astray
The meeting and the dealing
The cheating and the underlined feelings,
The signiture on top of the dollar
And the hour that dosn`t look proper
And when the day is done
This is the place where they shout Amen Alleluia
This is the place where the devil is enraged
My spirit is flaming inside me
And the birds are flying about me
Oh what profanity,
Oh what desolution when the windows of heaven breaks loose
And you have no one to bend down and lace your shoes
And when you cannot minister to my innate cry the earth will open
its guts and penetrate all the rust with the passing of time
I cannot release this welled up tears that has been
watering my eyes for over one year
It is the daily despositon that make me sigh and
the lack of understanding that they cannot deny
A gang of men and a pack of wolves speaking
above their voices with no vision or insight they
are just working daily for a bligh, and when
the evening is done they go to bed with saw dust on their front
I still cannot feel at peace here, and I will not live in fear
I am going to get up and just walk out of here
No finger to burn and no message to return
It feels like a wilderness surrounds me
And a fire is raging above me
And just around the bend,
It feels like the lion is grinding in the den
The month is coming to an end when
And I wish that the sorrows will go away
The day is absorbed in its own horror
And I wish for a better tomorrow
When knowledge will clothe the face
And wisdom will prevail over the race
Remove the covers off your face and strike
a deal before it is too late.
Laying my head back, eyes closing,
reminiscing, the years falling away into decades ago
to the 1950s at my grandparents' grand home
for Christmas.
It was a gracious dining room.
Noontime sun streaming in.
Chair rail with deep red wallpaper, white trim.
Decorating the lace clothed "Big Table"
was a tallish 1870s porcelain Meissen fruit centerpiece
with lovers circling the stem.
Even the adults had to look around it.
Grandmother "Lil" and "Mister B"
were at their nouveau best.
All their progeny seated in good form
awaiting the traditional invocation by "Mister B".
Also seated were the ones that were to be
"seen but not heard" at our side table, the "Kids' Table."
Draped card tables for the dozen of us -
me, my brother and sisters and cousins.
Everyone all scrubbed in dresses and ties.
Mine was a clip on.
As expected, a milk glass got tipped. Spilt milk.
Besides that, we kids had great fun and
became friends again as we did each year.
The thing of it was, none of us liked
being at the "Kids' Table."
We felt lesser, unworthy, subtly so.
Even when I was ten, I knew there were
only two ways to get to the big one:
marriage or go in the army.
We all wondered what it was like to be adult.
After all, most of them smoked.
They all had drinks.
The women had figures, swishy swirls.
The men wore suits like they knew how.
At the "Big Table" they all talked like experts
about stuff we didn't understand
and they laughed loudly at Uncle Bob's jokes.
As the years moved on, things would change,
always do.
I saw virtually all my cousins
disassemble their lives too early -
marriages, divorces, addictions, lost jobs, left school -
beleaguered into inevitable submission.
My family miraculously unscathed.
But they're all gone now,
"Big Table" and little table too.
All that's left from the 50s
is my brother, sister and me.
For years, I was at the "Big Table" since my brood and I
took over the Christmas tradition.
The "Big Table" conversation was
superficial and posing was prevalent.
So one year, I put myself at the "Kids' Table." Just for fun.
Yes, milk got tipped.
But oh, the wonderment and hope. A meal that truly was
food for the soul.
Now that I'm old and looking back,
with a quiet smile, mulling it,
I kinda liked the "Kids' Table" better.
Colored pencil illustration by G.Gaul
I am almost seventeen years old,
It is almost summer, and
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off...
I tell him I don't want sex.
I wonder if this will be like
The time-
I am sixteen years old;
It's cold outside but
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off-
He asks me if I want
To have sex...
When I say no, he tells me
It's okay- but his hands
Move to my body-
I still don't say yes,
But after a while,
He doesn't want to
See me as much anymore,
And I guess some other girl
Finally told him what
He wanted to hear
Because it turns out that
He's been cheating on me...
Then I am fifteen years old,
Being asked my age
And receiving disappointment
From the hands of the
Asker- always male-
Because my answer is
Three years less than
What he's asking for-
I am fourteen years old
And I stay home because
I have decided that
Boys are not worth
My time;
Not since-
I am thirteen years old,
And the same boy
That kissed me first time
Asks me to have sex.
We break up after
I say no.
I am twelve years old
And my first boyfriend
Kisses me for the first time
On my birthday...
He tells me that he will
Love me forever.
I am eleven years old
And sometimes I wish
I had a boyfriend.
I am ten years old-
Sometimes I wish
I was a grown-up.
I am nine years old-
I am eight years old-
I am seven years old
And playing with Barbies;
Barbie is on top of Ken
Because that's what
Grown-ups do
On television...
I am six years old-
I am five years old-
I throw a fit because
I am informed that
I will have to grow up
One day...
I am four years old
And Mommy and Daddy
No longer sleep in the
Same bed, now don't live
In the same house;
They explain to me and
The other kids that they
Are never getting back
Together, but it's not
Because they don't
Love us, they just
Have grown-up
Problems-
I am three years old-
When I have nightmares,
I crawl into bed
With Mommy and Daddy...
I don't know why they
Share a bed, but I guess
It's because they always
Want to be together-
I am two years old-
I am one year old-
I am a summer baby
Because my parents
Made me on Christmas,
And that's way more
Than a sixteen-year-old
Needs to hear...
I am almost seventeen years old,
It is almost summer, and
My boyfriend and I are
Kissing with the
Lights off...
I tell him I don't want sex.
He says okay...
It doesn't matter.
His hands move to
My face.
MY AGE
My age is nothing but a number, nothing but a slumber that I can’t wake from, this is what I’ve done. I’ve looked around and found that the matter of the fact is life isn’t what it’s supposed to be for me.
The average teenager spends most of their lifetime looking at their phones and when it’s time to learn something new their minds have already grown. Absorbing every single thing that they are sold, having a twelve year old’s body and the mind of a twenty one year old.
Social media doesn’t help the situation, it only changes how the different problems are situated. It has stolen complete sentences and created abbreviations, shortcuts of a language used by my generation. You could be laughing out loud when in reality you’re crying, saying TBH to be honest when in actual fact you’re actually lying.
And to that you can’t say anything because if LIFE was abbreviated it would stand for Living In Fear of Everything.
This is what I go through, in addition the music industry has had a major breakthrough. It has managed to be more influential promoting sex, drugs and slurs that are racial. “Making money moves” is about dancing on a pole, “Smoke weed everyday” is the daily intake of dope and this is said all while mentioning the one African American slave term that we all know. My nig-...I can’t say it though. So why do you. You have no idea who that affects. Sometimes we need to learn to be more politically correct.
They say that euphoria is just around the corner, behind the school building in a midst of vape. These are the lies they create, saying everything is ok. Just inhale it once and you’ll be done. I’m sorry, you can call me a loner but don’t mistake me for a stoner. One shot, two shots, three shots, four, hard. Call me antisocial but I’ve never drank before and I’m not about to start.
Society is full of influences, temptations and choices. However people like me always end up being voiceless. They think we’re too young to have any serious issues, that’s just another excuse for not wanting to accept the truth. You choose to change the subject to something totally unrelated, “We don’t have many problems?” well isn’t that an understatement?
You say that it will change, you say it’s just a phase, you say it’s another page in my story, no, this stage, right here...
This is MY AGE!
Space Rock Climber was born to the void
On an asteroid named for its ores and metals
Orbiting the sun one year after another
Morning never comes
Day never breaks
Silence goes on forever dead
A 10 year old son abandoned by parents
Who moved back to their home planet, Earth
The boy climbs rocks for a living on a rock
Food ran out two years ago
The climber turned to stones and minerals
Surviving on dirt sustenance alone
Rocks stay in place forever with their flavor
Easy to hunt down in craters
Black skies scream at the stars
Lack of atmosphere, depleted air
Low oxygen, no spare tanks, parental lies
Laid out on the platform of dark horizons
No one lives for long in outer space
Parents should not leave their children all alone
Like so much liter waste and weightlessness
He forgot their names
Embraced the great beyond as his domain
They had no room on board the ship they said
If only he were a little lighter
Perhaps he would fit between the gold and silver
Shipments of such commodities are revered
Rock climber has no name
It is not needed in this environment
Temperatures run from the sun
From hot to cold as is expected
Climate fluctuates that way in space
The young man stays the same
Stands on solid ground
Time sets no limits on the day
As the asteroid tumbles on
No doubt it has directions figured out
A barren rock is not a proper home
If he could remember, he would forget
It's for the best
Abandonment is not healthy for the mind
Mom and dad left him minors tools
Smiled and gave advice
They told him to climb high ridges
And wave good-bye
It is a trial out in space
Cry’s go unheard and serve no purpose
The vacuum of the void defines survival
This is the only world he knows
Rock Climber goes up the granite inclines
To find minerals for his soul
He grows too old to work
Then something happened
As luck would have it a collision just occurred
An asteroid hit his little world
Hurled him and his rock back home
Finally he would see the Earth
Enter the atmosphere in a hurry
Just in time to tell his mom and dad
Don't worry! Don't burn alone!
I'm here so we can have a blast together
I don't think about you in everything I do like I used to.
But a part of me still holds on one year later.
With memory of glassy eyes on top of the parking garage
I laid down in your lap, looking up and feeling the seatbelt dig into my back.
I didn't care, because your hands were holding me and tears were melting down from your face meeting my messy hair.
I felt it though.
Digging further in.
Bruising pressure.
Imprinting in my skin.
I ignored it as you asked me to stay.
I ignored it as you told me things would change.
I ignored it as you said you had never felt this way.
I was ready in myself.
I could've jumped that night and been at peace,
And you were almost going to let me.
But then you begged and pulled and pleaded, not wanting me to go.
How selfish of you
Acting as if you loved me
Pretending and putting on this show
I came back for you again
History repeats itself, haven't you heard?
...I should have jumped that night.
You were poison and
By now
By now I should have learned
One month went by
And we ended up at that same very spot
Overlooking city lights
You held my hand all the way to the edge
My toes curled, gripping onto what balance I had left
Now you say you're sorry
But you told me I was safe
Lies lap around your lips
You're the one who pushed me to this grave.
You try to apologize
Swearing you're going to make things right
But you can't take back the water That fell like glaciers from my eyes
You can't take back the whispers
All those talks late at night
...You can't take back those words That slithered from your tongue
That tempted and persuaded
Braided the rope from which I hung
And you cannot take back those letters
Because I set them all on fire
I watched them go up in flames
But darling, the words you wrote,
They're still burning in my brain
When I hear your name in passing
At first my chest tightens up
My face looks flushed
And my palms get sweaty
My stomach is in a knot
And my heart gets heavy
I don't know when I'll finally be able to go a day
Without you crossing my mind
I spend my life in the fires that burn but do not consume
And even though you sent me through hell
I hope you're getting through this better than I am...
I hope you're doing well.
•COPYRIGHT- poetess-MRS. ANJALI DENANDEE , MOM
……………………….
I LEAVE , NOT LIVE
…………………………………
I leave my old-broken-shelter………
forever and ever……………….
I do not live there…………………
when I left it………….
at that last time……..
I put there……………….
two pictures……………
one was of my late – younger- brother’s photo……………….
and another was of my late-parent’s photo………..
now , after one year……….
I am in this shelter…………………….
yes , again , present here……………………..
I watch that both picture are damaged……………..
on the damp-wall……..
their colour -full-print- faces are not seen clearly ,………..
by my both-twins-eyes…………………
I take both – pictures of them…………
and then , keep in my side-bag , with care………..
yes , then I hear…………….
my childhood – name……………
from my parent’s picture…….
‘’ ANJU ‘’…………………………
and also from my 3 years younger-brother’s picture……….
‘’ DIDI ‘’…………………….
then I look at all…………………
I feel their unseen-touches………………
also I watch their smiles ……
which were full with sadness………………..
yes I lost them , many years ago……………..
now I remember them , in my hidden-mind……………………..
yes , today is 31st December , 2015 , Thursday…………………….
I resale my past-shelter to a new customer……………..
and , now it become their – new – happy- shelter…………………
and , now , I am mrs. De…………………….
I salute to my once upon a time’s happy-shelter……………………….
and also say , ‘’ good-bye ! ‘’………………………..
yes , also it says , ‘’ o . k. ………………………….
bye – bye ‘’………………………………………
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….COPYRIGHT-POETESS-
MRS. ANJALI DENANDEE , MOM
……………………………
THE HAPPY NEW YEAR
………………………………………..
today is the happy new year………………
1st January , 2016 , Friday………………………….
I am mrs. De…………………………….
I create this poem………………..
I hope that it will gift me …………
the high-fame………………..
I know that for it …………
the whole universe will love me………………………………
in their mind , I shall take my ever-seat……………………….
in their every-heart-beat…….
I will stay………..
yes , I am the poet , mrs. anjali denandee,mom……………………………
the endless will say , …………..
‘’ hey ! you MOM !....................
you are most welcome , in me ; welcome !…………………..
I love you !...................
too-too-too…………………….
yes , you are ever-new ‘’……………………….
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
For Jennifer ( can't believe it's a year already)
Elegance and beauty, a caring heart and zest for life,
a loving mum and nanna, and of course, a perfect wife;
a very special sister, a treasured aunt and friend.
We recognised your need to rest as your days came to an end.
We shared with you such precious times, those memories will stay,
all we have to do is look, and you’ll not be far away.
Your radiance will start our day by way of dawn’s first light,
pushing back the sadness, replacing black of night.
We’ll see you in the morning dew that coats each waking leaf,
as you take away and purify all our tears of grief.
We’ll see you in the birth of spring, in blossom pink and white.
You’ll be the feisty wind that helps a child to fly his kite.
You’ll blow a little harder, to make him laugh and run,
then we’ll smile and say “she hasn’t lost her sense of fun”
You’ll cleanse us with your gentle rains to wash away our fears,
with the summer sun, you’ll warm our hearts and dry our tears.
The vibrant colours of your soul will be the woodland flowers,
you’ll be the fairy sugar plums that help us count the hours.
As autumn falls your hair will be the soft hue of the leaves,
we’ll hear your words of love as autumn breezes brush the trees.
As the depth of winter chills our fingers and our noses ,
we’ll see your fair complexion in the bloom of Christmas roses.
We’ll see you in the faces of your children as they smile,
we’ll hear you in the laughter of Chloe, Amber, Joe and Kyle;
in the lapping of the ocean waves upon the golden sand,
remembering the times you walked with Bernard, hand in hand.
We’ll see you when the evening brings the darkened skies,
each tiny diamond star lit by the sparkle of your eyes.
The soft and silver moonlight will be your gentle touch
to caress the weary faces of those you love so much.
You’ll breathe a silent lullaby that helps us all to sleep,
and as we drift into our dreams, thoughts of you are ours to keep.
*** 2 days before she died, following an unsuccessful bone marrow transplant, my beautiful
aunt asked me if I would write a poem and read it at her funeral. How could I refuse?? It
was an honour, but also one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. One year on, I miss
her so much and think of her daily.
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