Long Poignancy Poems
Long Poignancy Poems. Below are the most popular long Poignancy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Poignancy poems by poem length and keyword.
Roger Ebert was a consumate wrter and movie critic.
Internationally and in Chicago, where we met after
the Chicago Riots.
Each New years Eve, all his friends and to his famed,
New Years Eve Party….
He went out of his way to see we all were treated
more than well in I learned from Roger, that people’s
hearts came first.
What a terrific listener! I never thought he’d die!!
He worked until his last day on earth.
Roger was a Master at limericks, too.
A better friend, I never had.!
Missing you,
Pangie
Tribute to Roger Ebert
It is on this joyous New Year’s Eve,
When I feel your soft essence is gone.
Hunble of spirit, kind, you, the famed
Pulitzer Prize, oh, how you duly won!
The smiling, winter, icy stars, reflect
On your name with joy and pride!
Your name, right here, in California,
On the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Oh, few will never hear of your great
Generosity and bountiful tenderness.
Or the grievances we have the Chicago,
That we fought with the city to redress!
I shan’t forget our close friends, too.
Gathering then to celebrate this midnight.
Roger, my soul recalls how you so
Bravely fought for your precious life.
I know you cannot hear me any longer.
The poignancy of all I learned from you,
Etched on my soul,left me forever, stronger!
Tears of the past invoke frozen footprints
When fears rekindle flares of dire misery
Feeling the ache, straining blood streams
As wrinkles pop up swelling deep worries,
Holding dialogue with sustained poverty
Attempting to traverse shuttered streets--
Bent, but not broken, in grip of tragedies
Trapped in the pathos of agonizing grief
Building escape still, flexing meager means.
When in my solitude, these images I’ve seen
Awaken me hauntingly in frightening dreams,
Grudgingly I go there, where I used to be
And see a child deep in hapless poignancy
Bleeding profusely from veins melancholy
Revisiting relentlessly orphaned memories.
Time unconsciously releases those feelings
When ode to new morn happy robin sings
As sun rises gleefully from deep blue seas
And life illuminates in golden hued beams
Oscillating winds, gleaming through trees,
And I walk with pride on the bridges I built
And thank my bright stars that lit my path
Twinkling diligently to show me the light
When obscure was the face of my dark night.
Silhouettes of yesteryear are purging now
Cleansing dread with vibrancy of spring
And jitters of nightmares in aspiring dreams
Seeing new growth in parched winter land
Like flowers rise through remains of ashes
Confronting what was, with what could be.
I have staged my play to my own melodies
And the rhythms I set to my own music
No longer evoke the prompt life gave me
As I write new chapters, create new scenes
I’m planning the ending as I wish to see it:
The story that was past, my future won’t be.
December 7, 2020
Placed 1st: Catharsis poetry contest by Silent One
The Face of Hope
The face of hope never masquerades in forlorn visages
Towering above spiraling pits in the dark midnight of essence
Breaks disingenuous chains of nightmare’s clutches
In bleak mansions of the dark moon to warm their hearths
Refusing to prostitute possibility
With poignancy that probes lost footsteps trying to hold onto
Perfect moments of saline life support
Steps in to shine with opportunities’ bright smile
Refuses to accept the suicide of love
On rocks of the torn heart’s tragedy
Or see unscalable opaque obstacles
Or wear the mask of homeless helplessness
Discarding pity’s piercing banshee sneer
Fate’s cynical demand to fulfill obtuse fate
The face of hope refuses to wear desolate –
Or a God forsaken destiny -
Bereft of moonlight squeezing between
Abandoned footprints of dreams
Smothered by smog
A single shaft of illumination – a cloak protecting fragile insight
Never bewitched by night’s dead space,
Wearing victory’s luminosity of enduring promise,
Vanquishing a taunting laughter of ridicule
To break down anxiety’s imagined walls
Surrounding the paradise of foolishness
With dawning reveries of one bright star.
Abiding in eternal covenant
The face of hope never masquerades in forlorn visages.
5-6-21
Contest: This or That
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Drink your bitter tears
From a goblet of fire.
Transcend your longing
For resilient pearls
Exploding along your
Jaded Path.
Let wonder feed rhythm
Stirring your turbulence.
For if ever there were a
More encumbered stream,
Savor tomorrow.
I tremble from your
Thunderous voice.
Concave dreams hold me
No more.
For I'm restless. I can't pass through
An eye of a needle, but I hope to
Climb His stairway to heaven.
When fire rises from earthen
Vessels, my longing channels
Inner strength to feed my woes.
Bestowed upon my heart are
Remnants left by howling wolves.
They fester their cries to a moaning
Moon.
Dream away chantilly lace when
Cognizant seeds of sorrow envelope
Your tired soul.
I'm humbled by your untimely arrival.
For to renounce all frailties invites
Stoicism.
Shiver in mystic waters,
And walk towards enlightenment.
However lost your spirit becomes,
Always go with the Way.
There is no sunlight upon my face
When jagged knives cut through
Me.
For encumberment entails salty tears
Burning along sated flesh.
Where is my sunrise to welcome
Poignancy?
How can I belling you when
All has a price, but no value
To bend.
Blood Brothers is packed with humour and poignancy.
It was a play I was privileged to study for GCSE.
I learned that I was connected to its history
And this came as a huge surprise to me!
It tells of a Liverpudlian family
Who were rehoused to a new town - Skelmersdale.
I knew that if I got to see this play,
Then this part of the test I'd not fail.
For the first twelve years of my life,
In Skelmersdale I had residence.
This rehousing occurred two generations back
In my mums family - what a coincidence!
Although my time there had its troubles
- so much fear, grief and trauma -
It felt so exhilarating somehow
To be connected to this drama!
Several teachers told us how loud the gunshot was
In the final scene of this story.
They said it made them jump EVERY TIME they saw it...
This sounded over the top to me.
When we went on a school trip to see it
I was determined not to jump.
But when that gunshot roared beyond the gods,
I was thrown back with a mighty thump!
I was on the edge of my seat
So when the trigger was pulled by finger
I truly felt the blow!
We were not told how this part lingered...
When I flew back into my chair
Our teacher laughed out loud A LOT!!!
Briefly, the cast looked up as to ask,
" What's so funny? The guy's just been shot! "
This vindicated our teacher.
" See! I told you this was so! "
This really made her evening.
But it was truly hilarious though!
That'll teach me never to attempt
To prove others wrong or to be the exception.
But hey, it's another great memory to look back on,
To laugh and smile at, on reflection.
O' Salty tear, a mere clear drop that you are
You've emerged for a million different reasons
many of which only the shedder knows
for you've emerged in all seasons.
The season of sadness or reason of joy
the tears of grief and the tears of joy
You and your unalloyed saline taste
thou art' but an emotional waste.
O'Salty tear each time you drop into oblivion
why not vanish away with your shedder's grief?
I tell you O' tear if you're to take my opinion
oughtn't you grant your shedder full relief?
Ah but thou art' a ceaseless ocean in reserve and store
No one can be sure, he'll cry no more
When you trickle down those sad upturned lips
we know destiny perhaps made those painful slips!
You are the raindrops of a grief-clouded heart
You do emerge when two lovers have to part
Help your shedder turn over a new leaf
so you're associated less with grief.
I've watched many a jilted lover
weep all alone by the sea-side most sorrowfully
and watched tears glide down noses or pince-nez
as their salty tears merged into the salty sea.
O' Salty tear but it's time you learnt to wash away
all and any poignancy from your shedder's heart
and be such a buddy who never wishes to meet again
the tearful shedder from whom you depart!
Would an ocean form created by ditched lovers
if someone collected their fallen tears?
Written: March 22, 2025, for contest sponsored by Craig Cornish
***********************
In the heart of my kitchen spices exude their aromatic allure
a harmonic blend of flavors coddiwomples mute grief. . .
cimmerian saudade in emeritus pickles, a nostalgic taste
longing for a whiff of jasmine s p e c k s. . .
the acridity of blue cheese, the poignancy of bygone days. . .
lavender aromas snip from vessels of proclivity
hidden under an ominous cloud of r e m o r s e
on par with brimstone-soaked steam,
harmony strives to alleviate concealed pain
pleading palms to purge passed-over prose
as seclusion seeps still as a slow-spreading sickness…
Scathed by sadness solitude simmers silently,
In this mixture, marvelous magic manifests for mending
spicy ambrosial nuances partake in a gracious w a l t z
pain intermingling with delight
a buffet embellished with dishes of acrid herbs,
the core character intertwines with previous fails
textures and fragrances intertwine
to create a tapestry rich in pain and d e l i g h t,
harmonizing sadness and joy in life's tangled web.
We love those church bells,
do we not? Such chimes, such rings!
Are you a churchy type?
Or, like me, are you not?
Those bells we hear here
do have a rather angelic sound
(though, as we know, there are no angels).
But what a voice they have, those bells.
You don't do church, then -
like me and so many others?
But almost supersonic, those rings -
chimes that are quite a joy.
And they do bring to us
a historical flavour.
It enters our ears and hearts,
enters our ears and minds.
You have no religion, then -
that old-fashioned, out-of-date stuff?
Yet those bells send a sweet tang, zing,
almost a poignancy - sometimes sorrow, often happiness.
Ah, yes, we stand at that west end,
absorb those bells, that zing, that flavour.
We almost drink them, wear them -
yes, cherish and wear those rings.
(30 Dec 2022)
In the dampness of those unslept sheets I find my solace
between the linear moments when you held my breath
and the last time we said goodbye:
Awakened by the thunder every calm fiber
goes dormant as I toss and turn
searching for the memory of your warm body
The rain slips easily from glass to ledge
and so do my tears;
Life with all its poignancy, cannot reach me here
beneath thick blankets of denial.
As I pretend the night away death does not exist,
nor does it live here, anymore
In the dampness of those unslept sheets I find my solace
through poetry in flight,
although I leave it to the angels,
to whisper you, goodnight !
Oh the humanity
the humanity
Oh spare me the grief
thy fake tears
woe is me, mentality
syrupy behaviour
Munchausen propensity
it sticks between my teeth
Oh spare me the pathos
ham acting baloney
Phoney and pathetic
pennyroyal tea fatigue
Histrionic vagaries
self righteous piety
Oh spare me the maudlin
attention seeking thievery
Drowning in poignancy
sentimental molasses
Throw yourself to the floor
overdosing in twee
Oh spare me forever
stomach churning violins
emotional instability
Wallowing in saccharine
exaggerated sob stories
But most of all
the absence of apology
Sentimentality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
25/05/22