Long Rang Poems

Long Rang Poems. Below are the most popular long Rang by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rang poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member My Name Is Christmas


The phone rang just past 5 this morning.
To myself, I asked, "Who must this be calling?"
In reply to my 'Hello', came a serious reply.
There was a strong male voice with a happy
greeting saying,


"My name is Christmas.
I have been sent to make serious requests.

I'm in search of the spirit of giving.
Listen well if to you God is speaking.
Missions of mercy await any who is willing.
Acts of kindness await any who is loving.

Be prepared to open your heart to someone knocking.
Listen to the hearts of those who are weeping.
Be mindful of someone on the streets walking.
Beware of someone on the sidewalk sleeping".

120823PS


Road Angst

London is bewildered by its roads
The Circular, the North,the South,  the Codes
The Morse  and the  Enigma Turing broke
So now we have new bicycles with spokes

Once we had the A to Z  in hand
Turn it upside down and you'll be grand
New technology has  made  great strides
Carrying us to Eden ,what a ride

The motorways are  empty  for  tonight
God decided  we had too much Light
He  taught the bare cheeked Moon   on Jesus' mount
To turn the other side when love's about

I liked to use a compass and a map
But now, my dear,  most everything's on tap
I crouch  beneath my sister as she drives
In the dark on the  M 25

But if it's closed, we are completely foxed
We left the  old Road Atlas in  a box
Along with all my ex's underpants
And naturally  his principles of Kant

We may be in Watford  or in Bucks
I  often wonder what will rhyme with luck
We may be near St Alban's, we can't see
The car ran up the trunk of this oak tree

We rang 999  and they are here
A fire engine filled  up with Kentish beer
A ladder  for the ladies to climb down
Now they are just women on the town

London won't exist ,destroyed by cars
God himself hates the  North Circular
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member In the Saint Osmund Church

Many years ago, I visited a church. The Saint Osmund Church in London
In Barnes. Beautiful and imposing Catholic Home of God. Felt from the heart

Mass. This was an intimate afternoon. I have never been here before. Never
The believers waited silently for the voice of the bells. The calling voice rang out

Holy Mass had begun. The priest was an aristocratic character, an old man
Preaching was incredible. His thoughts soared, and his audience fell into a hypnotic state

This Mass left an eternal mark on my soul
This Mass burned into my soul. Forever

This Mass always accompanies me
This Mass always lives in me
It's an eternal inspiration

Premium Member Bells

"I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Three Christian Churches here used to play
Their hymns rang out along the way
They took turns with their chimes each day 
Never overlapped come what may

How I miss those sweet bells of old
They rang out through warm, hot and cold
Their songs of love, peace, joy were told
Before our world its soul to evil sold 

Those hymns at Christmas time so dear
And carols ringing so strong and clear
On each street corner there was no fear
No illegal drugs around this small town here  

Could this world normalize again
People spread out and grow some hens
Have some goats, ducks, and a weathervane
To go into town maybe catch a train

While 'pon that ride the bells ring out
Now that is what I'm talking about
Places where love can be planted and sprout
Those days can be good without a doubt
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member -A Double Whammy

Timmy developed bad hay-fever
He saw the doctor for some tabs
No medication seem to work for him
He tried everything the pharmacy had

Another problem soon arose 
For all and sundry to see
Each time Timmy sneezed 
He would get a woody

His hay-fever now out of control 
Sneezing constantly
His woody was up and down
Getting weary as can be

His woody stood to attention 
In the most embarrassing places
The town folk were disgusted
Disapproval on their faces

The doctor rang Timmy to say,
Please come and see me
We have an amazing new medication
From your hay-ever you will be freed

A miraculous new antihistamine Timmy was prescribed
The outcome he could not believe
‘Miracles do happen’ Jimmy thought
No more hay-fever, no longer did he sneeze

The other issue was also resolved
Such a relief for dear Timmy
But now his willy was sound asleep
In a coma permanently!!
© Deb M   Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member That Cold Morning In May

That cold morning in May                               


                  Budjiti


Slowly I walk
Between the dunes
That protected this
Tribe from the 
Cold winds of
June
Forever an Dreaming
It held them tight
Their smiles once
Beaming on its sight
These dunes were
Comfort
Shelter
And safe
A place
On their ancestral
Journey along
The dry and dusty 
Paroo
Then along came the
Ghost men
And there foreign ways
Happened upon them 
On this cold morning
In May
There fire sticks
Rang out amongst
The screams and cries
They slaughtered this
Tribe that Dreaming had
Provide
One survived

Slowly I walk
Between these
White weathered
Old dreams of the
Budjiti
A mournful desert 
Crow call
Heralds my presence
In these dunes
That didn't protect
This tribe
On that cold
Morning in May 



Authors Note
I am honoured that the Budjiti people
trusted me to tell one of their stories.
I know that I haven't done it justice
I don't think anyone could.

The Oocupiers

The Occupiers 

 Outside, the only road in my village
a horde of carts pulled by skinny horses full of furniture and children 
demanded access.
Our great grandfathers built this house we have
the right of return.
I contemplated giving them the shed but knowing they would 
demand a larger part of the house, thought it best to resist
my thought of being kind.
The people outside were of Roman ancestry and had lived
in this area for hundreds of years and had been harassed wherever they went
It was time to take back the village and the right to defend ourselves 
I rang the police, fifty officers came and disbursed the crowd
and a guard post erected at the entrance.
I normally have a liberal heart, but in this case, I had no empathy
by those who tried to make me homeless
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

The Maiden and the Nightingale

As soft moonlight shone upon the maiden,
   She pulled her dark hair away from her face.
   With fresh flowers, her garden was laden,
And around her a nightingale did trace.

The bird then quickly vanished from her sight—
   She regretted it having left too soon.
   The strong wind led the bird on its high flight,
Over the water reflecting the moon.

Near the brook, it found some sticks it could use
   To build a nest closer to her homestead.
   The bird began flying back to its Muse,
Spreading its wings, from the water, it fled.

As the nightingale took time to linger,
   The lovely maiden awoke with a yawn.
   With the nightingale upon her finger,
Around her garden, she walked in the dawn.

As cathedral bells in the distance rang,
   The nightingale on the maiden's hand sang.

The Darkness At Noon

The Darkness at Noon

Tombstone never looked so good
With doomsday coming down 
On the dusty Arizona town
The OK Corral near by 
The Clanton-McLaury gang on hand
With no one else about
The Earp boys in the wings
Thinking things out
Doc Holliday also in tow for the show
The darkness at noon began 
Guns rang out
30 seconds flew by and 30 shots fired
2 cowpokes fell to the ground expired
Justice prevailed that afternoon
Though darkness shadowed the mood
A legend began that cold dark day 
When noon turned into night 
In old Tombstone
                                                                                                                   (Darkness at noon contest en
Form: Epic

Premium Member Revenge of the Ants

Goodness gracious me,
How can it be,
The ant leader
Posted that by decree,
I was a traitor,
And he
Would pass punishment
I could foresee
What was in store
Had to sit and steady my
Nerves with beer shandy.


It was a very hot day,
Thirty-eight degrees centigrade,
We were not by the sea,
But it was easy you see,
To keep cool
By the pool
Sitting on a high stool
With a beer shandy
In my hand,
Listening to the hotel’s
Resident band!


My phone rang,
It was my friend from Greece,
She was sending me a
Winter jacket made
Out of sheep fleece,
Oh don’t tease
Me please.
We talked for just
Under an hour
Said goodbye,
Went back to my beer shandy,
Life was just dandy.

But oh deary me the ants
Wanted to avenge
And take revenge
On me, as I picked up my
Glass of beer shandy,
Something seemed odd
I took a gulp from my glass,
And involuntarily forced
To expel the contents
From my mouth,
Hundreds of ants were floating
Dying, peeing, spitting
It was most distressing,
In my drink, I felt faint,
But practiced restraint,
Didn’t want the ants to
Know that I was dizzy
Even my hair was standing
On end and became frizzy
These industrious ants
Had set a trap
Determined to get back
At me for telling humans
About their plot to rule
Planet Earth, their leader Raoul
At the ready, creeping
And crawling
And nipping
Away at my flesh.


Doom spray I screamed
Please spray them all
Let them all die and fall,
I had to tell of their plan,
The world had to be prepared,
And their secret shared,
They began scurrying
And fleeing
From the spray, but muttering
Their real revenge was close,
They would be huge, and chew
Us up and spit us out, use
Us for fertilizing their gardens
And as for me,
I would be spat out constantly
And would regenerate daily,
So I was doomed,
They promised to keep
A wary eye on me,
Oh well perhaps I could emigrate
But they had this in mind,
Devious little monsters,
They would then immigrate 
And join with other ants
From around the globe.


I would never be 
Off the hook
For them I was a real
Baddie, a criminal, traitor
And crook,
Determined to expose
Theirs superpowers
To this planet,
And perhaps many others.

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