Long Poetry society Poems
Long Poetry society Poems. Below are the most popular long Poetry society by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Poetry society poems by poem length and keyword.
I expected more
Tolerance
Understanding
Support
I expected more
Yes, I’m an idealist
I have a better name….
A fool
A child
Thinking that trust still means something
That people won’t turn into cannibals
Eating each other whole
Biting away pieces of reputation
With our razor sharp teeth of
Innuendos
Slander
Gossip
G O S S I P
Without finding out the truth
Hurling words that stab and tear
Flaying souls bare
How do you dare???
How do you dare!!!
I expected more
From you
From him
From her
From them
From us
Cannibalism…what a shame!
Who would engage in that???
And yet
Here we sit at the feast
We sit with blood running down our mouths
Hunched over the carcass of someone’s
Murdered honor
Devouring
Thanking the powers that be…
“Thank God isn't me!”
Gossip = “Social Cannibalism”
Sanctuary not found
“I demand sanctuary!”
I expected more
"Great Expectations"
Dashed to the floor
A fool
A child
“Little one,
“Expect nothing
And you will never get disappointed.”
Eileen Manassian Ghali
PS...this place needs to be a safe place, a haven....a sanctuary for people who share the same love to FINALLY be appreciated for their work and their dreams...goals and aspirations. WE ALL need to think before we "speak" about others and surmise
this or that. We are just going to lose more people from this place if something isn't done about that o'l grapevine... :(
“Wherever two or three are gathered”…or so the verse goes…Here seems to be my take of late...
“Wherever two or three are gathered
Most surely NOT in HIS name
Gossip is the order of day
The hottest PS Game!”
A game in which there are NO winners...only Losers. Think about it...Please...
Also..please...NO COMMENTS on the inspiration behind this...Just some food for thought..for ALL of us.
The Good Old Days
Take me back to the good old days
When we were grateful for what we had
Now people have much more than they need
And society has gone bad
Greed is the keyword and money their God
Everyone out for themselves
I remember a time when we thought we were rich
If we had food on our shelves
People have to keep up with the Joneses'
Bigger house, bigger car, better job
But trying to keep up with the Joneses’
Just makes people think they're a snob
They look down their nose at ones poorer than them
Think they're better than everyone else
Just because they've got private health care plans
And the poor have got National Health
I don't know what our ancestors would think
If they were alive today
They'd probably think we'd all be better off
Living life like the good old days
ALPHA BETA
As I understand it
Back in the distant past
Communication was at first, verbal
Distinct, if limited
Every tribe began with its own
Finding it a challenge across boundaries
Getting an understanding, the first step
However difficult it may have been
In delving deep into facial expressions
Just as tribes began to share stories
Kinsfolk with greater vision
Laid down a simple written code
More in glyphs than modern letters
Now established across most of the world
Of course, there are still subtle differences
Perhaps enough to make it interesting
Questioning whether a common principle applied
Revealing a basic alphabet at its core
Some solid basis to record words in writing
Twenty six or so the most popular
Understanding was now assumed
Vested in those who learned to read
Whatever their motivation
X-ray vision was not required
Youth instructed by their elders
Zest for poetry soon followed
When time just collapses and stands still,
Reality shadows all laughter with haunted chill
I just feel that I should walk and walk …
Till the mosque awaits, not a further talk.
You keep on talking about writing on the wall
I see a clumsy nagging dirty pain, standing rigid and tall
Pure scripture keeps shining still, the innermost surreal call
Why bother to alter the calligraphy? Invalid try after all.
Softer tones utter each word in a pure divine way
All that was confusing gradually get vanished away
Look there! Out there on the far-reaching greenery ….
Little souls are building heaven with crafted archery.
(A gifted poem to Austin Poetry Society)
Voices voices telling me
Where to go
Who to see
What to say
And who to be
How to think
What to believe
What to buy
And what to spend
Where to start
And where to end
Who to hate
And to friend
When exactly to be straight
And when exactly, they say I should bend
.
Rules to live my life by
And how much I should get
When to let it go
Or when to throw a fit
Voices voices I declare
On the page
And on the air
Every how
And every where
.
Every say
And every said
Constant voices
In my head
Voices voices telling me
What to hope for
What to dream
Where to find
Blue Bell ice cream
When to whisper
When to scream
.
Voices voices telling you
Vote the red
Vote the blue
But don't think for yourself
No matter what you do
Voices to manipulate
Paint good men fools
Paint evil great
.
Those other voices whispering
Prodding me to do their thing
If I'm crazy let me be
But you be you
And I'll be me
And choose for myself
What I call free
.
Five hundred twenty-eight megahertz
Called us up out of the dirt
It's said I'll know the Shepherd's voice
And when He calls I'll have a choice
It's hard to hear Him thru the noise
Or cipher through religious ploys
But I choose to hear Him nonetheless
Tune out the chaos of all the rest
That one true Voice it brings me peace
And floods my soul with sweet relief
.
One last time I must tell
Keep your voices to yourself
Schizophrenic I may well be
But you just be you
And let me be me
Neither yours nor mine,
The Earth is ours.
“Together Vibes”
It is thy, it is my;
SO, we won’t let anybody else,
loiter our pry.
No pollution, no solution,
No stress, no maritime death.
Plastic waste, pollutes our crests;
Not to worry, we let it rest.
Our mountains melt, the oceans rise,
We cry & cry but never try.
Our progeny might die,
Without uttering its first cry.
We seem to be devoid,
Of all the occurrence in the side.
Let’s plant some trees
Make our planet green.
This Earth Day shall cherish.
The birds will fly again.
We don’t know the time,
It will take, but again;
We should try & try,
Till the very end.
There was a time, before Hollywood
fully embraced commercialism – then love
was yet a part of Paramount; before ratings took complete
charge of the Industry's heart – changing sincerity and dearness
to rank commodity – a time when writer's wrote what
one's heart fondly projected...before editors assumed
the roll of Gods: preferring the flashy art
of covers over interior substance –
A time when a poet sang what his
heart instinctively felt and embraced,
unstained by articles of form and alliteration:
A time when God and His Heaven dwelt
among men – He and His angels interacting freely
and openly with creation, daily breathing
new Light and joy into earth's blossoming
spirit. A time before Satan's Editors seized
the throne of man's heart – fouling
his skies and waters
with Heretical Council.
My Emily
The years fly by, our children leave the nest;
so soon their own are off to meet their quest.
This month, she graduates with her degree;
a teacher now, granddaughter reached her aim.
With love of reading, writing, she became
head of the Poetry Society
and student-taught the middle school that she
attended years ago...her joys to claim.
English teacher now
certified to shape young minds
with love of words...written, read.
As a poet too,
the heart of this proud grandma
overflows with thankful joy.
Sandra M. Haight
~7th Place~
Premiere Contest: Three Style III
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Judged: 05/12/2017
Find happiness
There are so many things that are not as they should be,
That sometimes people think that everything is wrong.
I can only speak for myself, but I do still believe,
There is hope in many places, in many people, in many songs.
If you do have faith, then that is your choice.
I am faithful when I am in love.
I write for myself to give myself a voice.
My silence means I am busy working, writing my books.
A paragraph here, a couplet or two there.
There are so many words to be found everywhere,
That poetry has become like air.
It floats through the soul, never growing old,
And like life, it passes onto another.
It goes where it goes.
If it means nothing to you,
Perhaps you should choose some other wordsmith.
Another poet; another writer;
Or just say nothing, read nothing, do nothing.
Whatever makes you sing your own song is worth it.
Read the contents of the label if you do not speak the language.
Head to Milan or Naples, and absorb the culture,
Before going to Rome with your kids.
Feel free to roam before you see the Cascata,
Wherever they may flow.
Travel Europe before heading home,
And if you are still not settled when you return,
Pack your bags again and go all around the world,
In a one person boat, all alone.
Do whatever you need to do to find your inner peace.
You will find love wherever you may be,
If your heart is open to seeing new things.
If you are closed to human contact,
Then you will forever be taking a step back
And no forward thinking, future thinking thinker,
Will ever be attracted to that;
But if solitude is your desire,
Then stay alone, although the mountains will seem much higher.
If you are truly happy, you realize fortune is temporary.
I know I dream of one day raising a family.
We all have our dreams;
We all have needful things.
We wish for change,
But those who live in the moment, it seems,
Are eternally living their perfect day.
Life is not perfect and never will be,
But even if it is great and can only get worse,
At least it is not my misery.
You still have to work to improve it.
Alive in this state of man-made bliss,
Is a footstep away from catastrophe,
So do not wait for life to come and find you.
Find your own way to be happy.
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
I burned a book today.
The author will remain unknown
his words unread,
yellow pages untarnished
by the grit of hungers need
his ideas set free upon the wind
disembodied ghosts
hoping for redemption
I passed a library today.
its shelves stripped
of error’s errors
dark corridors
leading to locked rooms
suffocating the voice
of freedom.
I wrote a poem today
etched my heart
upon the paper
baptized it with my tears
nurtured each word
melded them into a union
of mindful contemplation
I passed a mob today
chanting incoherently
carrying contradictory signs
demanding unity,
equality and justice.
after the riot and looting
I went home and
I burned a book today.
John G. Lawless
3/21/2021