Long Pen Poems
Long Pen Poems. Below are the most popular long Pen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pen poems by poem length and keyword.
Alas, you may have noticed if
you’ve looked around the world these days,
you don’t see werewolves or zombies,
no vampires or mummies at play.
The whole world seems to have lost that
thade of mystery we once knew,
The creatures that stalked us of old
have become remarkably few.
There’s still a few out there, I know,
good old Dogman up in Michigan,
but for many of these creatures
their wild days have come to an end.
Now what’s the reason for this loss?
What has brought about this strange thing?
That’s easy enough to explain,
we humans are great at killing!
Yes, just as with normal animals,
we kill off what might be a threat,
something threaten might endanger out lives
is something that we can’t abet.
So just like predators and small pox
we saw the job was done,
heck, we published how to kill them
in all of our horror fiction!
Stakes, silver, garlic, and headshots,
we let all the world know how to win,
to the point out nights have become safe,
free of all the creatures of sin.
But if you still want to see them
then I have some good news for you,
you can see them all down at the
Endangerer Horror Species Zoo!
Now we got ghouls, goblins, wendigos,
your Demons, your banshees, and sprites,
we got all of the B-team monsters,
but most folks come for the big five.
I guess we should start with the werewolf,
each must roam in his own separate pen,
their spacious and lined in silver leaf,
we don’t want them getting out again.
The only ones left are the old ones,
so old they no longer transform,
they just stay werewolves all the time,
apparently this is the norm.
whatever the case, it’s good for us,
people can see them fur and all,
through a foot-thick one way mirror
that forms the enclosure front wall.
These eight foot beasts eat messily,
yet people gather when they feed,
yhey act appalled by the whole thing,
Yet they consistently watch the scene.
And when those lycans howl loud
it pieces right down to the soul,
ten times the fear of a normal wolf,
the spine tingles, and blood runs cold.
But people like feeling afraid
so long as they know they are safe,
sometimes we’ll drop a rabbit in there
so folks can watch the beast give chase.
Why do so few of these beast remain?
think silver bullets plus machine gun,
most of them now are heads on a wall,
we’re luck to have more than one...
CONTINUES IN PART II.
We Are The Ghost Dance Poets
by David Lee Herring (The Powwow Poet)
We come together from near and far
Like wise men following the star
from the sweet Grass Hills, We come to be filled
with the Spirit from on high
Holy Great Spirit in the Sky
Calls us to come together now
He’s our grandfather, he’ll teach us how
Peace and Love will prevail
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
We paddle down the Zuni River
As through rusty red silt she slivers
On this quest to quench the thirst of our souls
we surrender all control
to the guidance of Great Spirit
We answer his Call as we hear it
With the rattle of the Gourd and the beat of the drum
We all come together as one
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
Some begin their journey at Bear Butte
Others start their passage at Pahuk
All from different nations and tribes
For We are Great Spirit's Scribes
His poems pour forth from our tongues
We sing songs like our Fathers have sung
Prophetic rhymes of warning to mankind
earth is your mother, respect and love her
We all sprang up from her soil
Now we must all join in and toil
Gather and labor together to save her
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
See, Wounded Knee could not stop the poets
Over a hundred years ago and We still hear it
The sound of the drum calling us to come
and all join together in the circle
And once again there'll be miracles
Bringing healing to our bodies and souls
As from all tribes together we dance
For Dance is a form of romance
It's Intimacy with the Holy One
As all of his daughters and sons
Worship the Father together as one
For that is how true healing comes
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
Thanks to you all
Thanks to those who come to
poetrysoup.com, practise poems,
write, read and share poems
and comment on others
Thanks to those who read my
writings, do comments, follow
me, avoid my poems, block
and ban me from their list
Thanks to you all
I’ve no eternity here, all of me
from least to chest, best to edge,
sharpen blade of new paddy leaves
jeopardize my torn nib of ink
in the field of writings graph
Maybe I couldn’t write any word
for beauty and stunning young girl
in comprehension, in passion and
in my fashionable heart
Maybe I couldn’t write charming note
of flower’s petals, striking fragrance,
in my perpetuity lake of quills
Maybe I couldn’t draw the sexy body of
rose, lotus, tulip, sunflower, orchid,
lily, daffodil… etc in my vulnerable
reef of poetic expression
Maybe I couldn’t draw the colors magic
of rainbow in my infatuated fallen
soaked feathers with November rain
Maybe I couldn’t inscribe the nature
the cosmos, the solar system, the ocean,
the black hole, the space, the sky, the stars,
the planets, the galaxies, the meteors, the
gravitational power…etc in my slumbering
wings of writings
Maybe I couldn’t plant the meditational
tree into the pure heart of words, I couldn’t
select the seeds of immortality in my
ascetic madness and magma script
Maybe I couldn’t greet the autonomy flying
of Cockatiels, Parakeets, Canaries, Finches,
African Grey Parrots, Budgerigars, Cockatoos,
Conures, Macaws, Poicephalus…etc in my
unintelligible incarcerated language
Maybe I couldn’t hail the abode for Labrador,
Bulldog, German, Poodle, Beagle… etc and
Maine Coon, Egyptian Mau, American Bobtail,
Ragdoll…etc in my materialistic
harvesting terminology
Maybe I couldn’t sleep with power of poems,
dream to be a finest classic or modern poet
in my kingdom of pen, paper, ink, writing
table-chair and lamp
Notwithstanding all these, I thanks to those
who come here at least one time daily,
erratically and read, write, share own
thoughts and comment frankly
Thanks to you all a lot. Thanks and love you
all. From me always ready the rose without
thorns and love for you all, although you bleed
my heart by thorns stinging
-November 14, 2018 Chattogram
////
DEDICATED TO POETRYSOUP.COM and ALL POETS-POETESSES OF THIS ESTEEMED LITERARY SITE
LETTER TO MY FUTURE SELF
Hello there, sweet Lady Jane,
So, it is three weeks before you turn seventy,
do you think you can honestly tell you found
your peace of mind, contentment, happiness?
Or are you still searching for answers to the
things you never understand and wondering
the what ifs, when you damn know there would
be no answers, no explanations, no clarifications.
Your children are giving you a party and all your
grandchildren will be there to celebrate you.
Do they make you proud for what they become?
Or do you still think you did not spend enough time
with them when you cannot turn back time or do
you still worry and wish something better for them?
All your siblings with their spouses, children and
grandchildren will join your family in celebrating
you reaching a major milestone, are you excited?
Or do you still feel like an outsider for your
mother, their mother treated you differently.
I know your life did not turn to be what you wanted,
as your life journey put you through many adversities
including sorrow and pain that you turned out to be
what you are meant to be, a strong willed woman.
You learned to let go the shadows that haunted you
and you accepted and embraced what life threw at you
becoming appreciative and thankful with your blessings.
In the past, you were asked many times what your plans
were for the next five years? ten years? for the future?
You had so many for you couldn’t get no satisfaction.
Now, you just whisper let it be, the words of wisdom.
Your dreams never materialized; but they never left you.
So at this time in your life you think you are never too old
to dream or create new ones by reinventing yourself.
You dare to live your life at its fullest and take a chance
to create your own happiness for it is a decision, a choice.
So, my sweet Lady Jane, it is nice to see you not worrying
about the future; but dancing and rocking to rock and roll
music, living like Ruby Tuesday, you come and go and
change every new day and you just imagine, living for today.
Ahhhh……..
11/22/21 Your Favorite Poem of 2021 Poetry
Chantelle Anne Cooke
9/18/21 Written and Submitted
Letter To Your Future Self Poetry
Silent One
NOTE: My pen name is Sweet Lady Jane
from the Rolling Stone's Lady Jane
life has it's ups and downs
it's highs and lows
with it comes a lot of crap
but what's most crappy?
Action speaks louder than words
now thats crap.
when you are in a mess
and four men are set to give you stress
only words can placate their vex.
To err is human, to forgive is divine.
iI know men that make it an habit to err
all their faults, in one day they bring to bare.
When they say sorry
you should be worrried
cos when your back is turned
your heart they shall surely burn.
Old wine tastes better
i have never heard a sillier chatter.
Give me bitters, ale or lager
whiskey, cognac, all even the better
inebriation the sole aim
whatever the taste am game.
Your vote is your voice, let it count.
I can't even be cynical on this
their's always count more.
The patient dog eats the fattest bone.
My ***** just had a litter
and with every litter their is a sickler
he was the grunt of the squealers
he never got to mama's breast on time
and with time he died
a bone, he never had to dine.
Dress the way you want to be addressed.
It was visiting day at the prisons
on came a nun brighter than the sun
pious in body and soul, her gait straighter than a pole
she left their third leg rigid
am not kidding.
Every disappointment is a blessing in disguise.
Now this is no lie
am still trying to figure out who was behind the mask
when i got robbed on pay day.
A stich in time saves nine
I love this line.
when you try to take what is mine
believe me it wont be fine
even when you run to the court and get a fine
I will cut you up to bits.
and the stiches wont be nine.
The pen is mightier than the sword
reader, the above is one hell of a crap word.
when am with my big gun
you better drop your pen, cower and run.
Every day is for the theif, one day is for the owner
this is a no brainer.
The governor embezzled our money and left
he got all the praises... you should know the rest.
Make hay while the sun shine's
this should shed some light.
it was Norway inthe middle of the night
when the morrow came, there was still no light.
Make hay while the sun shines
is one hell of a crap.
cos when it should be lihht,
the sun is never in sight.
Let sleeping dog lie
i tell you no lie.
When all your Mutt does is to sleep and eat
when burglars come in to take and keep
you let the ungrateful beast suffer a bit.
Before my flowing, poetic pen is hushed in Quietus,
And I have reached my journey's end with folded hands;
Departed into my dreamless sleep beneath violets,
Let me write one everlasting, eternal, immortal verse;
Of the ravaged garden of my life.
I want to hear a bird song when I quietly glide away,
With a sigh, I will lay my pale form down peacefully;
I have willed my Keepsakes and my musing poems,
The Angel of death, will take my hand into another realm;
And the drums of time will cease.
Oh, it has been a life full of happiness entwined with sad,
I have travelled many different roads to get to Tranquillity;
The chapters of my life are full of the dead and undead,
Memories of childhood, family, friends and pets I loved;
The scars of life stab my soul.
I do not fear death and I am ready to go through the gate,
But I will miss nature, the woods and the waters moving;
And as I walk the silent passage alone to my eternal night,
Think of me as being set free and soaring high up above;
I lived a life weather-stained with tears.
Leaving life is something we all must do; it is written,
I was held by a thread in this earthly realm until that last gasp;
Now, all I know is the peacefulness of a leafy tree above,
Drifting blue clouds and rain falling gently on my resting place;
I was a shadow on the wall of time.
Do not weep over my eternal grave heartbroken my dears,
I have followed the beautiful Angels footsteps to heaven;
My poetry is timeless, ageless, and will always remain,
I have shed this earth bound life and I am a butterfly set free;
I drank from the deep blue cup of life.
So come, dear hearts and plant some pretty flowers in Spring,
I am at last united with all my beloved who have gone before;
Touch my name and remember me for my beauty,
And although my life was but a whisper, I loved every moment;
Now, I exist in another realm.
____________________
August 26, 2015
Poetry/Epic/'Before My Pen is Hushed'
Copyright Protected, ID 15-1216-704-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted into FGI Blog Special - Epic
Brian Strand
Podium Place 1
In the tapestry of life's intricate design,
A journey filled with love and loss intertwine.
From childhood's embrace to the call of duty,
A path of resilience, courage, and beauty.
Blessed I was with parents whose love knew no end,
Guiding pillars, companions, forever friends.
With every step, their love paved my way,
Teaching lessons of kindness, all through my day.
I joined the Marines to see the world's vast expanse,
Encountering new cultures, taking a chance.
In the midst of service, love's light I did find,
Meeting my soulmate, destined to be mine.
Love at first sight, a bond unbreakable and true,
Discovering in her, my reflection, a clue.
Embracing the role of husband and father with all of my might,
Living my life, filled with love's pure light.
Tragedy struck, tearing apart my happy home,
Loss of my wife, and mother, I was left alone.
Grief's heavy cloak enveloped my days,
Yet through the darkness, my spirit would not be swayed.
The strength of a woman, my mother so dear,
Fighting through pain, and facing her fear.
Caring for her, as she faced her final fate,
In her grace and courage, with God there's no debate.
Through loss and pain, my writing became a guide,
A channel for emotions, for tears I had cried.
Penning poems of raw truth and grace,
Touching souls, shining a light in that dark space.
Seeking to share my words, to reach those in need,
To offer help, hope, in every word indeed.
Mental illness, struggles, faith's ebb and flow,
Uniting humanity, in joys and in woe.
I hope my verses find wings to reach far and wide,
To touch hearts, to heal, and in love abide.
In sharing my story, my voice it finds its power,
An offering of empathy, in life's uncertain hour.
I can only hope my poems are a beacon of light in the night,
Shining for those who may have lost their sight.
A testament to resilience, faith, and love's grace,
In a world that yearns for kindness as it's embrace.
With each stroke of the pen, my story is told,
Of love, of loss, of courage so bold.
In sharing my journey, and truth leaving nothing unspoken,
May hearts be lifted, and barriers broken.
Thank you for reading my tale of joy and woe,
I hope my words continue to inspire, to grow.
For in storytelling, I find my peace, and in the memories I hold deep.
And in love and faith may our souls the Lord shall keep.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared bt not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
The pastor feared for many years once upon learning who I am.
A gift to the world sits in the palm of my hands.
For good or for evil, its up to me to decide.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
Before the death of my sister, you told me I would have to choose.
I chose my familia then my heart forever became brused.
You went away from my dreams then only came back once my heart became cold.
You reached out your hand yet I only turned it away.
Fighting wars in my dreams of unknown beings.
Voices in my head and visions of unusual seeings.
Picked up the Bible yet only learning of its hidings.
Secerts of a World thats so blind to many.
When someone speaks no one listens.
When the voice up lifts then everyone begins to focus.
Against a belief thats much stronger then our own can leave a person breathless.
I lay down a pad then pick up a pen but my hands refuse to let me write.
Stand in front of a croud to speak of our World but my voice is silence.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
You told me respect will be high because of the gift I offer.
You told me I wouldn't have to struggle anymore all I have to do is take your hand.
Walk with you like how I once did with Jesus.
Talk with you like I prayed to God.
Not to bow to your feet but lift out my hand for you to kiss as we bow to each other.
Sit on the right hand side of the thrown.
To have power greater then the World can image.
A new lyfe where you wouldn't have to hope and dream.
You promised me my revenge on the cruel will come.
You promised my my oppinons will be a factor.
No more crying at night because of hunger pains.
Or familia betrayal.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear
Form:
MY CRAZY CREATURES
This rhyme's about creatures of various sorts.
Creatures with fangs, hairy bellies and warts.
They cause lots of mischief all day long.
Mum always blames me but I’ve done nothing wrong.
These creatures are crazy. They’re not what you'd think.
Turn over the page. Find out more in a blink...
The first is Belcher. He really does stink.
He lives in the toilet and plays in the sink.
He likes to be naughty when nobody's in.
He cannot be found when you're searching for him.
Dad always moans when he sees all the stains.
I tell him it’s Belcher, “He’s done it again!”
Two thinks that she’s pretty, but really she’s not.
She has warts on her face and is covered in spots.
She has a big bottom and six hairy feet.
Her name is Ghastly. She’s really not sweet.
She steals mum’s lipstick and paints her mouth red.
She tries on her dresses, throwing clothes on the bed.
As soon as mum enters she’s so quick to flee.
I guess that’s why my mum always blames me.
Number three is so quiet but I know that he’s there.
He smudges my face and puts glue in my hair.
I call him Hush Monster as he follows me round,
Putting mud on my clothes without making a sound.
I aim for the paper but the pen marks my face.
Mum looks at me glumly, "You're such a disgrace."
I try to tell her that it just wasn't me.
"It was Hush monster, Mummy. Why can't you see?"
The worst of them all is a creature called Doom.
I'm always in trouble when he's in the room.
He often burps loudly when we're eating our food.
Mum frowns with disgust. "Now, don't be so rude!"
He cackles with laughter whilst spilling my drink.
"Be careful," shouts dad. "Don't you ever think?"
You may well wonder why he's never been caught.
Well…he's the size of a pea and he’s very well taught.
He rolls under the sofa after doing things bad,
And I look to my parents who seem really mad.
These crazy creatures I like the best.
I’m glad I could share them with you and the rest.
Belcher, Ghastly and a monster called Hush,
Then don't forget Doom. They all make me blush.
They live in my house and like to cause bother,
Driving everyone mad, especially my mother.
They’re experts in mischief. They get me in trouble.
Now I’ll tell you a secret that may burst your bubble.
Whilst these creatures are crazy it has to be said,
They don’t really exist, “They’re all in my head!”
I was looking over my stuff here, and itseems I've lost the talents I once knew here.
I write ancedotes for my column. I do journalism- always some deadline or project that I work well under the pressure of it all.
Writing is what I truly love!
There is just so many varied types I do, my poetry is suffering.
I enjoy reading the great writers here.
Sometimes I do not comment or remark because it is art and I'm at a loss of words.
It's just been enlightening to live such a full life, and to be right here, right now amazes me. I'm searching for some old therapeutic writes. I was on alot of medications at one time.
A victim of spousal abuse.
I came back up North severly medicated, drolling and my family would whisper, she'll never be right again.
Post Tramatic Stress Disorder aint no joke.
To be me, knowing what I do, and how very long it took me to recover...
When some never do.
Many men were nice to me along the way, poetrysoup has the best men in the world, they will embrace your differences, and encourage you to keep your chin up, and keep your pen flowing.
Vince I love you! Frank, you are the best friend that a girl to ever have! You've sent me so many books of stamps to write you back and also send you the latest edition of the magazine I am featured in monthly. Everyone has those times in their life, when nothing goes right. How you knew without me saying a thing.
Are you alright? a concerned letter in the mail when I was having it rough- and the presents that made me cry. It may have been a framed poem, but it meant the world to me, and still does.
And lastly John,
Why oh why did I pick the most just man to give the hardest time to?
He has put up with so much from me over the years. I love him with everything in me. If not for being a true servant of God where would I be without him.
I remember 5 or six years ago, and his lady, whats your problem?!
Well John, you are the very sweetest man I've ever known in my life... without you I would still be cold to the Lord. So many years and mile stones along the way. I can leave here, but just like the sands of Florida, you'll always see me back.
Thank You All, for reading me, but more - to support the struggling writers that fall between the cracks in society.
I love you Frank. I love you John. Don't ask which one more, because John is single and Frank is not hehehehe
Form: