Long Passage Poems
Long Passage Poems. Below are the most popular long Passage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Passage poems by poem length and keyword.
Songbird acapella
Early morning hymn;
Balcony recital
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Blurry haze
Burnt ash off-odours;
Surabaya harvest
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Bridge underpass
Homeless man dozes;
Happy dreams lurk
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Chinatown brisk walk
Noodle takeaway;
Homecoming
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Coin shop interlude
Metallic global trips;
Static travelogue
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Darling smiles
Sunset stroll;
Silence speaks loud
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Fanfare flair
Just for today;
Death anniversary
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Wayside flowers
Mystic beauty;
Unknown aura
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Words fail
Noisy passage;
Sense suffocates
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Concoct a tale
Long-lost monologue;
Wayside flowers
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Motifs speak
Suggestive tone;
Hidden agenda
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Sexy disguise
Beauty coaxes;
Plain truth
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Steep temple steps
Heaven beckons;
Joss smoke signals
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Family gathering
Temple prayer offerings;
Ancestral shrine
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Embrace allure
Sexy attire;
Adrenaline rush
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Play dazzles
Childlike fancy;
Tipsy memory
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Fruit cocktail punch
Buzz of pulse;
Desire sums
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Friday textures
Crazy work week;
Winding down
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Pretty sunrise
Dawn ushers;
Change presides
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Leon Enriquez
28 April 2017
Singapore
In space, I fail to mete my worth
Whene'er I look back at my Earth
I'd switch the honor of this berth
To breathe the Autumn air ...
A promised air, so crisp and rare!
I think on those I've left behind
The loved and valued of my kind
Now traded for this hope to find
One splendid, pristine land ...
A promised land of teeming sand!
I've spent my life on looking back
The crooked passage of my track
But now I'm brought a newer tack
Across this star-flecked sea ...
A promised sea, fair-winded, free!
This great expanse of boundless suns
Like lassies, though the fairest ones
Oh, watch her as she cuts and runs
The lance right thru your heart ...
A promised heart, one bloody dart!
What daring end will we thus meet
What tender soils will sole our feet
When this, our voyage, is complete
And we have found a home ...
A promised home to reap and roam ...
And tell our wee ones ... of this tome?!?
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice 11, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Time...the portal we travel through
where memories are a whispering wind
of jumbled thoughts
that haunt our sensibilities of hopes and dreams
stretching across time
where we are tethered and blindly travel
as we carry the burden of emotional baggage
that intertwines with the tendrils of time
this silent motion of our passage
from birth to death
is a bittersweet measure of our journey's length
from our earliest fragile footprints
to our shuffling last
both will vanish from this portal of time
the unseen enemy of life
that blows its breath upon our graves
to free itself from the pictures of our existence
that tumble through the invisible portal
like dead crumbling leaves that have turned to dust
Naomi"s passage
As we pass through lives journey filled with obstacles
Along the way a light will shine
Awakening a hope of happiness
As out lives is a canvass of purest wishes for the future.
Only as time goes by our picture that"s created
is our moods and blues, and you the reason for loving
As the canvass fill"s up with the picture of your perfect smile
If ever i was looking for a love of endless seas.
And found it in a heart as pure and content from above.
I know a value cannot be found for your love and laughter
echoed throughout our darkest hours
With you as my anchor,knowing is from heavens portal,
And not erasing anything from yesterday
knowing that's the reason
we have a masterpiece of priceless love
I dream in tensors, sleep in curves,
A fabric bent by mass that swerves—
Space and time, a unified song,
Where gravity has whispered long.
A point—no width, no height, no breadth,
A singularity spells time’s death.
But in the depths, a passage hides,
Through quantum seams, where dark divides.
A wormhole yawns, its throat aglow,
Two mouths that neither age nor know
The clocks we trust—what if they lie?
And stars are tunnels in the sky?
Where would it lead, this bridge we name,
From here to there, through flame or frame?
Perhaps to you, or somewhere free—
A loop in space, where I might be
Not bound by now, but yet—to be.
There are not enough digits in the whole round world
To count the neutrinos passing through a finger
But they don't stop to look around, examining what might be found
Should they decide to rest there, then to linger
Passing through's their raison d'etre, no end point that we know, and yet
There must be reason in this right of passage
The toll on us pays out in years, not Tacitus, nor any peers
Could measure or record their age or message
We count on other things and so we measure what will come and go
Trying to decide just what things matter
We hope we might luck out and capture what removes all doubt
Distinguishing the former from the latter
We think that measure's down to science, sure that there is some reliance
In knowing that we have the right to question
But knowing just which question's right's a question of our own insight
Which should lead us from suspicion to suggestion
Should we capture one of those little guys, passing through our eyes and skies
And shrink ourselves down to the size where we could ask a question
What question could we ask that might just be the one that leads us right
To conquering our mental indiscretion
The answers to life's mysteries are not all found in histories
Learn from them, don't be numbed by their suppression
The Truth or Something Like It
Aah, the truth and nothing but the truth
Who do we believe in this day and age
Where a guy named Donald spouts about fake news
And always seems to be in a rage
Who do you trust if it’s not your president
How do you get information if not from this sage
If the FBI cannot be trusted according to him
What else are we to surmise at this stage
Is there anyone left in who we can trust
Or are we permanently thrust in this cage
And just when we thought we’re as low as we can sink
Some women come forward in a display of courage
In a world so harsh and critical at best
They took a stand to spill their baggage
For the abuse from years long ago
Can be silenced no longer is their message
To all those who hide the truth
Know that we all come from the same village
The time has come to seek the truth
From those that took advantage
Hurting one of us is to hurt us all
It is time to write a new passage
Andreas Simic©
Wind whipped his face, the dogs, they ran
Across bleak-white ice and snow,
Paid in cash by Rand McCorchoran
To Dawson, he would go.
Delivering mail, medicine, and booze
To a town still on the grow,
Earning tips from richer folk
Prospectors flush with gold
But the briefest hint of red arose
Catching his cold glance,
Broke the passage of the miles
Broke the driver’s trance.
The slight trail, it followed them
Like tiny, reddened ants.
It ran along up to the dogs
Stopping at old Nance.
The husky whined, and looked to him
Her body gaunt and thin,
From nine long years here at his side
Through toil, frost, and sin.
From countless scrapes and brouhahas
Saving each other’s skin
He no longer saw his favorite sight:
Nance’s toothy, husky grin.
He sighed aloud and cursed the world
Knowing what should be done.
He shed his gloves and searched a pack,
There finding his old gun.
His hand it trembled at the thought,
Thinking to distant dawns
When he and Nance took on the word
Back when it had all begun.
With just one dog at his side,
And a rifle worn and old
They marched up north, to try their luck
To seek out Yukon gold.
He’d found no ore out in the wild
But Nance, so proud and bold
Showed him how to carve a life
From the endless ice and cold.
The gun it slipped into his belt,
He could not even pretend
That he could even point it al
His oldest, truest friend.
He brought of Nance up on the sled,
And the others he did send
They raced to Dawson seven strong,
This would not be her end.
Trying to find the right thing to say
Sometimes with words one will play
to see past the night
Into all the tomorrow's yet to show
Looking for the knowledge on which to grow
Passage of time brings wisdom to the mind
Yesterday is never forgotten but still must be left behind
The silent echos of your tears
Follows you along for many years
Becomes your fears
The past becomes your tomorrow
Such sorrow
The sun still rises on a new day
All the words still left to say
Time begans to unfold
The truth is lost ,never to be told
Words began to die
If told as a lie
With the word broken
Distrust is awoken
In the quiet moments, I sit and trace
The lines of time etched on a familiar face,
Once unburdened, with dreams like the sky,
Now shadows of worries are creeping nearby.
Days roll like rivers, swift currents abide,
Carrying laughter and love as they glide,
A playground of childhood now overgrown,
Where echoes of innocence softly intone.
Old photographs dusted, the colors have faded,
Yet memories linger—both joyous and jaded.
The swing set that creaked, the treehouse so tall,
Now sits as a ghost, where the wild things would call.
I walk through the hallways of my own shifting mind,
Retracing the steps, the lost and the blind,
Friendships that blossomed, then withered like leaves,
Some stayed for the summer, while others just leave.
Time molds us in silence, yet speaks without voice,
It whispers of change, like a heart's whispered choice.
We grow and we falter, we rise and we break,
But every sweet moment, there's something at stake.
The town that I knew, with its small bustling streets,
Has grown into something—new rhythms, new beats.
The café replaced by a chain with no soul,
Yet deep in my heart, the old memories roll.
And as I peer closer, the mirrors reveal,
The echoes of youth, the passage we feel.
For though we may change, and the world may renew,
The essence of time shapes the me and the you.
So here’s to the seconds, both heavy and light,
To the laughter, the heartache, the dreams in the night.
For in every heartbeat, in every year’s flight,
We find that through time, we can shine even bright.