Long Postal Poems
Long Postal Poems. Below are the most popular long Postal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Postal poems by poem length and keyword.
The Postal Worker
The lady behind the counter,
she takes my packages,
and gives me, "looks"...
when I tell her I write books,
and request to send my items
media mail.
It is much cheaper by far,
to send my words to another place,
printed between covers,
I design.
It is a way of sending tangible expressions
to friends, family, and strangers...
soon to be friends, and claimed family
without going broke.
No joke.
I love to send just simple cards,
things that I create.
But sometimes it is my fate,
to write more things down,
like a clown...
in a rodeo at a show,
giving the cowboy time to get away...
free and clear from harm,
with charm.
My hair grows red,
as I am fed crackers,
by the parrot
that lives in the zoo
with a few...
wild peacocks
that make stew
for the rabbits to eat.
You see how my feet wander?
They go all over and back.
“Off went the Postman, Toodle-oo! In his uniform of postal blue…”
—Allan Ahlberg, The Jolly Postman
RED CARDINAL
The
heavy bird landing
on his heart,
with joyful wings -
an angel’s.
As the dearly departed,
her name was uttered
in golden pen,
pronounced…
and it began.
The miracle, bright red!
The postal delivery
fed
the imagination
of the brave little postman,
not so little, instead,
not so unsteady -
his legs fed
by miles of mourning,
but he kept on going,
not looking back.
BUT
here he pauses,
admiring
the plumage
of this healthy bird,
its claws,
like a ruby ring,
round his finger - the
mother lode
comforting
to a
heartbroken soul.
Written July 14, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
************
So tiny, yet so vast: a square of purple flame,
A postal stamp formed from forever lame.
Houses at its center a half-cast, cloudy glass,
Trapped in a gilded cage of grief and lilac crevasse.
Bedecked in the hue of storm-light, a figure stands,
A gaze carved from ache, hair as comet strands.
Static roses, suffused in blue, stood behind,
Each petal burned by cords, yet spirit did not mind.
Rain doesn't soak into his skin or asphalt as he vies,
Yet, unshed tears flow from the dream to the sky.
The water leaves his clothing with faint rings,
But in this dampness, nostalgia unfurls its wings.
O, how you bend and blaze, purple witness—
A design firmly woven into the yarn of threnody.
Your quiet strength lingers as words fade,
A melody that pain cannot shatter or jade.
Let this stamp be a symbol in all mortal prayer—
For timid souls who dare not weep amid silk fare.
A poignant lament for love wrapped in mauve grief,
A message sent to a visitor, destined for the glyph.
Just to be sure I read his letter again
There was no hint of any obvious pain,
Though I sensed some things unsaid
It wasn't anything in particular he said.
The distance between his words spread
And sentences read like averting dread,
Not loud enough for me to hear his sigh
Not sad enough for me to utter a cry.
Though scent of letter courted fragrant air
Aromatic smell was curiously unfamiliar.
I did spot an attempt at overt disguise
It wasn't the most blatant effort to lie.
His epistle grew a bit strange and unknown
The return address he used was his own,
But postal stamp showed he was with her
In her home town when he mailed the letter.
October 13, 2017
I remember it very well.
It was before the birth of email.
It was a real 'show and tell, and
It rings in my heart like a bell.
Mankind has always found bigger
And better ways to communicate.
Over time and space, such avenues
Have been greatly excellerated.
In the early 70's, cell phones were large
and rare, but landline phones were everywhere.
Those landline phones helped to communicate
The love and romance that were in the air,
And to tell a lover how much you cared.
But for me, and much more importantly,
There was a US POSTAGE STAMP in 1972,
First issued in 1971. I used a few of them
To send love letters to my wife to be. Although
The price of the stamp was low, it was not free.
There are no proofs of the phone calls or the
Automobile drives from Chicago to Northern
Indiana, but thanks to the 8 cent Dwight
Eisenhower postage stamp, there are many
Love letters to prove how romance was kept alive
By the connection provided by a postal stamp.
Dwight D. Eisenhower's picture was on that stamp.
The pose was inspiring and a rather stately one,
I might add. That stately stamp helped to shine
Light upon our young lives like a lamp.
That Eisenhower stamp is a most memorable
And vital part of my life's story. Its been 50 plus
Years now, but my wife and I still have many
Of those love letters. And when we read them,
It always makes us feel so much better.
I have a secret hidden vault
With weapons that can assault
Anybody who won't learn
If you try to hurt and turn
Hearts into sad painful things
I'll go postal and will bring
You worse sorrow than you dish out
Cause my life is all about
Making sure there's no neglect
From the world showing respect
To others who they pass by
It just make me sad and cry
When I see a world so scary
Leaving hearts and souls so weary
When they listen to the racist
Comments that are getting basic
And used way to much and often
They need putting in a coffin
With other judgmental types
That is wrong and so not right
No one should make fun of those
Who always get a daily dose
Of hurtful and rude comments
Being hated with bombardments
Of words that tear them apart
What happened to peoples hearts
So many mission will go on
Till everybody gets along
And there's not one more tear shed
Just smiles and joy ahead
The Government's behaviour firstly no longer defends our church
this mockery in itself shows a deep lack of good sense
or the simple sourced judgement to cast defiance
within this ruling class displayed
Openly liars vulgar hounds with misunderstandings of truthful agendas
as silver lining shines within their beady eyes split tongues brag
poisoned two left feet heading backwards chaos screams from injustice
Milking a treasury for all it's worth then rising the pension age
blindsided are the fools whom are unable to see past the sheriff of Nottingham
Bailing out banks without consent and giving the bankers bonuses
this our rainy day fund feathering someone's nest
We pay through the nose breathing in this capital suffering
creating slaves illegally burdened citizens are chained
dipping into pension funds the existence for this illegal action
hands out always taking never giving
Such corruption goes beyond unchallenged by lawmakers
beggars of the very purse strings
15 million flushed down the toilet for paper postal codes
billions worth of fish harvested out of our Irish sea
Gas and natural resources given away freely
our sovereignty has been removed bit by bit stolen innocence
under false ideas stealing our children's future legacy
leaders without backbones snakes pushing agendas
For free, taxpayer-funded abortions put on the table
in this bill signed with bloodshed to legalise
the killing of unborn babies in Ireland of all places
never thought I would live to see the day
Millions spent on a referendum called choice
incorrectly claiming murder as just
to be an important part of healthcare
our family focus has lost all sense of direction
Challenging the very structure in mum and dad
to begin with motherhood is the single strongest character
filled with loving compassion such are the rights removed basically damned
Every single word into the temple of our origin
death of democracy spilling the most innocent of blood
sacrificed for the sake of pride our nation has fallen
No longer united Irishmen and women a land divided
it is from these spoils of war that's killing our children's legacy
SNAIL MAIL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Young Stu, with his shell brown and bold,
From the forest post office, he slowly strolled.
With letters packed on his back galore,
With slime as his tires, he slowly went to each door,
"Your snail mail's arrived!" he extolled.
“You fool! Haven’t you heard of email?” badger exclaimed
“Of all your slowness, you should be ashamed.
“With the click of a mouse
You no longer deliver from house to house.”
“But, but…I’ll lose my job,” Stu proclaimed.
“Oh, Stu, you’re so uninformed, so old school.
Your skill set you must totally retool!
Have you not heard of UPS or perhaps FedEx?
You can deliver packages and other objects!
“But snails don’t drive. You’re such a fool!”
“Besides, I’m looking forward to my postal pension
Not to mention days without strife and tension.
And all those Forever Stamps I’ve amassed
I’ll sell online or on my webcast.
Then with Musk I’ll travel to space, otherworldly dimensions.”
At the Depot
As the snow flies, on a cold and grey December dawn
to waiting homes no mails are borne
from the depot.
Phil Bloggs, a mailman, scans the news
but his screwed up tabloid gives him the blues
saying 'To compromise both sides refuse,'
at the depot.
Hark! Foxes, stray cats, rats, critters all.
though humans languish, have a ball
in the depot.
On letters, parcels and Christmas boxes
little mice play, as do foxes.
Such a sight you never saw.
as stray dogs chew and rodents gnaw
in the depot.
What fleshpots in sealed parcels beckon
hungry vermin, who can reckon
in the depot?
What meaty dish, what luscious pie
teeters in a box stacked high?
No robber cries 'stand and deliver'
though many freeze and many shiver.
Phil Bloggs turns to another page
and what he reads puts him in rage
in the depot.
For guns and rockets billions go through
but for impoverished nurses barely a sou
in the ghetto.
Several threats poured in my
mind was dizzy I knew killers
were trying to end my life
since the failed attempts
several shootings car bombing
my mind focused on my
wearing wires pregnant buying
weapons and drugs from junk
sick cops for the fbi now the
corrupt officers niece was
impersonating me catrina bell
donaladson mckissick car
bomber violent offender
known for sending dirty bombs
and explosives including Sar
a serial una bomber dirty bomber
of sorts I worked with the fbi
searching for m.o.m.m.y dirty
bomber Mr Melvin MAYES El rulkin
from Chicago trading weapons
dirty bombs with LIBYA to blow
up chicago trains transit system
and government building Trina bell
bombing it this personal bomber
placing devices in foreign cars
or packages mailed to her targets
her favorite tampering with medication
quietly killing the target altering
passports assisting drug smugglers
leaving the country after killing
sprees sending strange packages
to explode several decoys are
usually sent wrapped in tape
with several envelopes attached
these are used threaten blackmail
targets as the entire community is
baffled when the mix up occurs and
boom powder covers the face hands
fingers lost limbs flesh splatters
while the bombers watch from a
distance usually parked sometimes
just sitting in a Cafe detonator released
cries from a distant targets are
sometimes randomly or targets are
in hiding domestic violence victims fbi
informants in witness protection selected
by yellow pages or library cards
prescriptions at CVS Walgreens
seniors by aarp or consumer cellular
these junk mails are randomly sent
out confusing postal workers who
just put junk mail magazines in anybody
box identity fraud you have a community
in an uproar with lost missing
prescriptions in the wrong hands
or thrown out in the trash with the
junk pile while bombs ignite beware
of bombs powdered covered packages
indeed Sars more chemicals delivered
for making more and more dirty bombs