Long Possibly Poems
Long Possibly Poems. Below are the most popular long Possibly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Possibly poems by poem length and keyword.
Silence is ever so cold
Strong and bold
Sending a message you better hold
I have been told
Close to your heart
Playing a role part
That cannot compare
When one gives the deadly stare
Powerful as a cussing swear
Where?
The antagonist surely would be scared
Stripping the foe spineless and bare
From the emotional snarly snare
My dear white knight
Respect your editorial opinionated right
Watch the bonfire burn
Ask, what have you learned?
About freedom of speech
And did it teach
Whether the message did reach
The border or the beach
Where many will ponder
Those flying machines throughout the blue yonder
Hoping no one will blunder
While they wonder
Family raising
What are those people saying?
And possibly weighing
That communication builds trust
Certainly, it is a must
Or the enemy will walk in
If no one is talking
Or getting fitter
Only angry and bitter
Cutting the deal
Giving it away, claiming a steal
Land sold
Received trinkets and gold
Price that was rendered
Avoiding being dismembered
Fight back my friend
Simply defend
Speak dialogue honest and true
Is what everyone should do
Liberty will ring
Making everyone dance and sing
Discovering the ace next to the king
Surviving the attack
Getting blackjack
Seizing the chips
Headlining all the news clips
Since freedom of speech is not done
Instead, well thought out chit chat is how the war was won
"Don't go back there" she says to me
she knows how bad a memory can be
let your uncle in reach for the stool
four years old, too young for school
When the shift work was done,
she'd come home on the run
to find her children broken up,
like two little sorry pups ;
A broken sink a shattered soul
what could possibly be her goal
another dollar in the cookie jar ?
well she didn't pass the bar ....
When the wolf was done he left
one babbling child and a wounded cleft
"don't go back there," the mind says to me
you need to clear all that past debris.
October 11, 2019
Contest : My favorite junkyard
Sponsor: Craig.
Hello mate with the smile of a sweet peach, how may I help you angel.
She had a smile that would calm the savage breast of the beast before an attack.
Her teeth of pearly white and small dimples in her cute cheeks, how I long to kiss those soft cheeks.
A pretty smile that deserves a soft kiss upon her lips.
A natural nude color of her lips, they need no lip stain; however, the lip stain would add more to you in a form of a compliment.
Seeing your feet every morning before you got ready for work, white and of red polish.
How I longed to embrace your sweet form and draw in your pleasant scent.
Your hair is beautifully blond and medium length.
Your eyes are a pool of water in Cinque Terre.
They draw me into a smile.
Your voice calms my soul.
May I say to you, I love knowing you.
A troubadour in my heart.
A troubadour in your heart.
I hope to God you are ok my soul mate.
I hope you succeed.
I may be able to catch a glimpse of you on a Sunday at our mutual location.
Only then can I say thank you.
Only then can I hold your hand and embrace you as my sister in the eyes of the Messiah.
Only then can I greet you in my European way.
To you I would like to say, “in another time our hands were together in white and black.”
Praise to Allah for us meeting; maybe someday our paths will cross again.
Possibly you may become a part of my heart; however, only Yahweh will place you into a lower role than that of a wife.
I will still say I love you.
A dynasty of events has become our destiny, Miss D. Grazie mi bella ragazza di Bianca.
La mia angela di capelli di biondi.
Bachiami.
Always been creative in one form or another
It's definitely what turns my crank
Sometimes I wish I could turn it off but no dice
Been blessed with this very active mind
Which can actually be a real curse
At times I'd just like to kick back
Put my mind in neutral and let the world go by
I think they called it “vegetate”
However, that word is not part of my vocabulary
Those that don't suffer from this can't imagine
Why I would want a break from it
Well, to start, normal things like watching TV
Or watching a movie at the theatre never hold my interest
They are non productive hours
I know, you must be thinking, “Poor soul!”
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being me
Although it sometimes can be overwhelming
Writing poetry is my current outlet
I have no idea what could possibly come next
Maybe I'll write a symphony, a la Mozart!
The Perceived
When Joe Biden the American president
walking up to the steps of his plane
fell stumbled and fell several times
possibly because his aged legs didn't
lift high enough on the ladder rungs
Unwittingly, this mishap might have had
had a bleak effect on the onlookers
and he was seen as an elderly man, not
in good physical form
Sometimes, what we see comes true
He has, after four years, shown the world
he is mentally up to his cargo.
What we perceive, say, a physical act
can be a forerunner of things to come
When Jimmy Carter was president
when participating in a local marathon
attacked by a wild hare and people
came to see him as a weak president
which he was, although he was a nice
person, little political savvy
He worked hard trying to free the
American hostages when the Iranian
Revolutionary Guard stormed the US
Embassy, alas they were not set free
before Ronald Reagan became president
so he, the blessed man, got the glory
We have the lamented Gerald Ford
who became president when Nixon left
and remembered for pardoning Nixon
which I think was the right thing to do
Otherwise, Gerald Ford, was seen as a fool
His wife became famous for the posh clinic
she ran helping alcoholics
We are all distant travellers
In this world full of strangers,
Journeying through valleys and plains
Nor taking path on tops or sides of mountains.
Each one of us has his own backpack
As we follow a trail without turning back,
When our feet sore and feel like giving up
We will look for a ride that offers us a kind hop.
Our journey does continuously go
As we anticipate a place where we don’t know,
However, this would never be the right thing to do
Be certain, take a breath as we go through.
If we cross our fingers and focus on our goal
We possibly reach the place, the desires of our soul,
If checkpoint stops us in any time of the day
Smile! Then, we’ll travel smoothly and freely on life’s highway.
Written: Sept. 2,2012
Honorable Mention
Contest: Rhyme Poem contest with the theme Life is.....
(Title of Choices: Life is a Highway, Life is an Adventure, Life is a Dance)
Contest Judged: 9/8/2012 12:00:00 AM
Poet Sponsor: Kim Merryman
I don’t remember asking you to come round
But if you have bought treats that’s sound
I will allow you in my human friend
because I’m the ficklest of friends
Could you possibly give me a scratch
Old bean, right on that white patch
But really ! you can’t sit there that’s my chair
How inconsiderate I do declare
Another treat if you have one spare
Look that laps free so off I trot
Cares given well not a lot
They best of got me my favourite food
But don’t expect any gratitude
Now I'm off to see tom next door
the following year you will have a lot more paws
fluffy kittens galore
Relief courtesy dreaded (re:) inspection not revisited until May 2022
Anticipatory anxiety put on high alert
when the warden gave less than a week
courtesy spluttering tone of voice
she did angrily blurt
nsync with her usual persona
being wickedly curt
treating us (myself and missus) like dirt
gloating in our writhing adversity
poor, sharecroppers, no matter yours truly indigent
no matter exhaustive effort I do exert
to secure living income/wage, thus flirt
with visions of illusions grandeur
analogous to taut pulled belt girt
tightly around psyche whereby temple hurt
with unbearable agony
rendering these lovely bones inert.
Grosse and Quade Management
at 2 Highland Manor Apartments
with Jackie Geiger at the helm
finds yours truly afflicted with weak
praise, cuz she left us
(meself and the missus)
in figurative darkness,
whereby I electronically bellow and shriek
silently critiquing as if writing op/ed
for Time magazine and/or defunct Newsweek
perhaps under heading summarizing healthweek,
which hypothetical issue possibly considered
virtual collector's item
and subsequently unreal antique.
Nevertheless said rich daddy's princess
forewarned yours truly and spouse
dated June 24th, 2021,
quoted verbatim as follows:
Dear Mr. & Mrs. Harris
Due to your recent annual inspection,
we will be re-inspecting
your apartment on Tuesday, June 29th
from 11am-4pm.
We will be conducting
the inspection to ensure
you are making progress
cleaning your apartment,
especially your kitchen and bathroom areas.
We also want to keep up
with eliminating your fruit fly issue
in your apartment.
The above date came and went
(as did two other recently lapsed dates),
we never got notified
approximately five year tenant
logically concluded - and anger pent
up inside furious enough
methinks gross analogy when
twenty eight National Guardsmen
fired their weapons at a group
of anti-war demonstrators at Kent
State On May 4, 1970,
now mine poem attains completion extent.
Today was both beautifully pleasant and awfully disappointing. I met a friend, and lost a friend. The sad thing in this, the friend I lost and met was the same person.
This dreadful sensation drools over me, am I that repulsive? Am I that bad in first impressions?
How is it? I am bad.. How is it? I am hated by many and by each and every person I meet. Why is it; I am hated? My intentions were always pure, my smile was always kind, my remarks and chats were always friendly.
Then what is it that I did? That was so dreadful. What is it that I will do? To erase it? What is it that you ask of me?
This heart of mine has gone astray. Those voices in mind have gone with no sound.
Those eyes have gone blind. To a path, to any path, they no longer see right or wrong.
Why is it; this my fate? What can possibly repay? All those odious, intolerable memories and days of mine?
I have lived, this loathsome life of mine, with no reason, with no goals, with no dreams, sturdy patience did I own, did I so longingly lose.
I look up to the sky with tired, impassive eyes. I have waited, I have stood. But when? And where? Will I have friends much as sincere, much as comforting, much as everlasting.
I listen to the same track over and over again, with deep feelings of weariness and fatigue oozing from me; same questions, same wonders, and the same unanswered calls.
These days, they drain me and consume me, I have nothing left, maybe its time to give up, to truly surrender. There’s nothing left and nothing will ever be the same, I want to rest now, liberate myself from all these feelings, and emotions, I wanna find peace once and for all, whether it is on this expiring earth or eternal heavens.
[Prologue: in both a secular and spiritual sense we are all lost one way or another at one time or another. The need to escape or at least lessen the pain this brings can be 'self-medicated' with drink or drugs or materialism or even egotism-- the sense that one is better, smarter, prettier than others. History shows when a people or a country is lost, it can result in war, either civil or external. For myself, I have found healing by turning to a Power far greater than myself, far, far greater than anyone could possibly conceive.]
POEM FOR A LOST SOUL
Now I understand--
I can never be complete
within myself: without You,
my emotions betray me,
my mind counteracts itself.
Hope will flee me,
despair will eat me
unless I reach for...
with a child's open arms.