Long Photo Poems
Long Photo Poems. Below are the most popular long Photo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Photo poems by poem length and keyword.
We planned for cycling in Northern Montana
Me, Marvin, Louis, and Anna
I had doubts about them, though they were healthy
For Anna could never resist a selfie
Marvin couldn't plan, Louis attracted disaster
Mainly because he always had to go faster.
Me, my only problem was I'm slightly bats
and guiding these guys was like herding cats.
We flew in with our bikes to Glacier Park
Started our day while it was still dark
Marvin wore a T-shirt, the fool didn’t care,
Sweating up the switchbacks, in the frosty air.
Then snowmelt got him soaked, and the road took a dive
Cold wind froze him; more ice than alive
Anna asked me to take a photo with a bear
I turned around, but she was no longer there.
Just a fatter grizzly, and a titanium frame
Maybe I can sell it, waste is such a shame.
Louis blasted past a "Road Closed" sign,
Rockfall twisted his bike like an old clothesline.
(Chorus)
Don’t be like us, leave the park for the bears
From my vantage point, I can say no-one cares
What starts as a dream can get very stark
And end under a tombstone mentioning Glacier Park.
Then I headed out on 'going to the sun'
the scenery was a heartache, the riding so much fun
The slope got steep, I had to zig zag wide
A fast cyclist came down; I veered off the side
I survived, don't know how or why
But my friends had joined that bike shop in the sky.
So I'll hang up my helmet, think of each friend
and how a dream of Montana drove them round their last bend.
Rumors around NASA are all about the gate to heaven
Apparently astronauts have taken a photo of it.
We project our own ideas into our expectations.
Some expect to see Paul waving from a gate.
Others expect to see a line of ancestors lining the portal.
I see my dogs waiting, with their joyful tails wagging fast.
I know they will bound into my arms, and surround me.
Licking and nudging, showing me pure love.
When the photo finally makes its rounds I am disappointed.
It is not what I had expected – no brilliant white.
No silver or gold, a grainy black and white photograph.
I squint my eyes looking for a dog or Jesus, but find neither.
It was an early Christmas present
I was so anxious to give it to him
It was so soft and luxurious
I thought how it would keep him warm
With the winter months ahead
Turned out he didn’t need it
He never saw one flake of snow that year
No more walks across the fields
To his creek over the bridge he built
To the cabin with his woodstove
Where he’d percolate fresh coffee
And toast bread on its hot surface
In a flash it was all delegated to a distant past
How I would treasure that snapped photo
Of my father’s precious smile
As he tried on his new fur hunting hat
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~A SIMPLE MAN~ 2020
AP: 1st place 2020
I’m looking at this picture of my daughter Ava
someone took three years ago as she was watching me
during the semifinals of our tennis club’s singles championship:
Standing there with her back to the camera,
her little fingers curled around the metal wiring of
a chain link fence, she’s trying to capture my attention
before I hit a kick-serve from the ad-side court;
Intently focused on the task at hand, I bounce the green ball
twice in front of me, toss it slightly behind my center of gravity
into swirling winds three feet above, coil like a spring,
and then, with every ounce of my being, explode upwards
while Ava stands there - still - her wide eyes searching an empty cage.
5/8/2017
Ella is overjoyed when her friend Peyton comes to play
They have a special bond; it has always been that way
You’ll find them having fun together on a sunny day
Playing in the park where on the swings they’ll sway
When Ella has a sleepover then Peyton comes to stay
The last time it was special as it was on her birthday
They have a secret code but mummy knows the things they say
If Ella says a certain special word then Peyton must obey!
Ella says he’s her boyfriend and they will get wed one day
Nick is saving hard for their wedding, as he’ll have bills to pay!
Fictional write based on photo
Laura Loo’s contest Personal Memories Monorhyme II
05~26~16
DEVOTION POEM 39th ANNIVERSARY
On this stilled night,
Dare I presume?
After a listening to the way
Einstein came to realize his
Relativity realities,
Dare I presume to sit once overagain in memory
In a student center’s crowded circumstances…?
To choose you, to offer a share of my
Sandwich, snapping a mental photo of your hands,
Which in our years I will come to love, able
To imagine their frequent, gentle touch over
My skin, just as your eyes always do, as still, after
All these years as if asking permission for its sought sight of me.
Do we presume in our dancing angles so relative
To our decades of delighted diagonals resting our heads
On each other’s chests, feeling the warmth, the slow
Up and down as breaths go on? Hold then, once again
My heart in your hands, as we incline back or lean forward
In time, in this astounding utterance of long years — 39 —
That I dare not utter without some marveling tears;
For my long ago hopes of this togetherness,
I once but presumed to bear, a simple maid
With hopes of loving thee, with a love that can bring you
Some joy in its life and length of passion.
A dream, a hope, a vow become reality.
The deepest love can presume its memories to seem as
If they occurred only yesterday, held in the heart
Once over, living again.
——————————- ————————————————. ————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 8/17/22
Anniversary 8/17/83
With regards to t.s. Elliot
Shocked by this today:
After so many years I received your message, wanting to talk to me
You had never done me wrong, but with your father, there was a history
Even with our old connection, I couldn’t trust the motives or take a risk
So, I ignored it and put forth minimal info, and moved on quite brisk
Later when I returned a while, I received another message from you
I assumed you wanted to pick my brain and maybe return me to the past
Back to the trauma, to get answers from me, to things where all pain lasts
Your father a cop, had taught you well and yet he had done so wrong
His behavior mixed with all your smiles and kindness you brought along
Again I didn’t answer, conversations on line I very much limit anyway
What I choose to post, may just be a painting or scenic photo for the day
I hardly check sometimes, as the days go by at this particular place
But today I did, and there it was staring at me, a photo of your face
A classmate had posted it, with a paragraph in writing to say goodbye
Two days ago, you took your life and no-one on there, knows why
Then as I scrolled, I saw someone’s comment and I couldn’t read anymore
Asking why, if he’s loved by so many, didn’t he reach out for help before?
Heidi Sands
12/31/19
"To see in color is a delight for the eye but to see in black and white is a delight for the soul". - Andri Cauldwell
Just an old photograph, in black and white
No dye to reflect the calm of hope’s song
Shadows blow across the heart’s golden light
Snapshot comes alive, a soul seems so strong
Image of light and love, sure to excite
Singing wonder through hearts all their lifelong
While the past will remind me of His grace
There’s joy that nothing on earth can replace
Just an old photograph, meant to inspire
Faded thoughts echo a silent prayer
Black and white beauty I always admire
Wonder from a heart who is still aware
Eager breaths of elation start a fire
Just an old photo who was meant to share
In the end, I hope the heart will believe
Love snapped a photograph for those who grieve.
My ancestral house I left a long time ago,
glints the hues of longing in memory horizon.
One summer on the faded trail of nostalgia
I retrace the time track to reach the past.
Opening the old tarnished gate I go inside,
walk across the yard entangled by creepers,
enter the dark dusty room deserted for ages,
wooden stairs winding upstairs are still there.
I climb up to the sprawling master bedroom,
its cleaved roof leaking the streaks of sun rays.
On the defaced wall hangs a photo of my father
donning the frail rosette my mother once placed .
I open the creaking window on the backyard,
once a garden now a fragment of wasteland.
As I walk out the wind sings the song of my youth,
I see on the rusty gate the golden glow of sunset.
________________
June 27, 2022
Contest : One In Five
Sponsored by : Joseph May
I have been through cameras with films, Polaroids, flash cubes, the lot.
I have enjoyed every camera I ever had, recording people, always a plot.
Most of my first grayscale photos have faded into a weird kind of gray blur.
I once had a dark room in my home, where creepiness of all kinds would occur.
I never felt like I was alone in there, as I was working with fluids at my sink.
Sometimes I could feel another in there with me, always wearing pink.
This house is haunted, I told my husband, after I developed my film into a scene.
There were often flashes of orbs and whorls, most of them pink, one time a green.
My husband said, just get down in the grass and get a good one of the cat.
This is my daughter’s favorite photo of Peepers, who could not be where she was at.
She was stationed at Lackland Air Force Base, learning to be a soldier during a war.
I am glad to say she is safe now, and gets to help me sort my photos, numbering 200,004.