Long Recited Poems
Long Recited Poems. Below are the most popular long Recited by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Recited poems by poem length and keyword.
I promise I would be a good girl when I go out into the world, I promise to stay out of trouble and return home in a hurry. I promised never to play in the street or walk barefoot, I promise I would stay in school and complete the semester and when the climate changed, I promise to graduate and study at the university.
It’s seems like yesterday when I utter such word when I was at play. I was thirteen and you were thirty-three and I always looked up to thee. You have always encouraged me to hold my head high and never look into ground that hold the dust of shame to its core, and the molten lava spewing through the hole and entering the spot where the disgraced soldier, conceptualize the plot.
I can still hear those words ringing in my ears as I walk the path that everyone fears, it is the moment of truth that is embedded in my youth and the ordeal I encountered on life’s journey comes back to remind me.
I could tell from the start that you are a heart breaker and the season come to remind me that the fault is within me and love is my destiny; when the autumn is done and winter comes along and the snow starts falling, it will fill the lakes and the trees, the ocean and sea and you will come and dance with me.
We will do the river dance on the roof and do the fire dance in a circle, then we will roll in the snow and touch each other dignity, and Boston and Richmond will come alive, Baltimore and Washington DC will take the dive, but New York and Philadelphia will ride out the snowstorm.
It seems like yesterday the climate changed and the clouds start fading away. I stood on those very steps and recited the whole chapter, I stood on that step and grasp every living character, I remember how you cast your eyeballs at me and how the mountain shook beneath the sea when you said, “will you marry me?”
“I am only thirteen, “she said, and I cannot lie in that big bed, “Yes I will marry you,” she replied, she held breath for a while and look on every side and you were still standing looking at her; then a gust of wind came, and you suddenly disappeared, and I stood on the step gazing at the wind.
The daughter's promise was fulfilled, and they walk boldly up the hill after thirty-three years in the making the universe had their blessing, the evidence is in the wind and you can hear it when you are still, winter is chiming in.
We lie in the dark,
my back to his chest, clinging to one of his arms.
This moment is beautiful, tender, and I cherish it.
The silence is broken and his voice rumbles in my ear.
"Tell me about your past, my dear."
My life flashes past my eyes, quick as lightning.
Panic sets in, I gulp, sweat, attempt to avoid.
He sees through it all and persists.
Tears threaten to overwhelm me,
as internally I burn this moment into my mind, heart, and soul.
I silently tell him, my love, goodbye.
"My young life has been hard, painful, overwhelming.
I've been shot, nearly stabbed, nearly choked to death on the railroad tracks.
I've screamed for help so many times by choking on pills, sitting on train tracks, slicing my wrists.
Abused by a brother, abandoned by a father, neglected by a mother.
Kicked out, homeless, stealing candy from a gas station."
His arms tighten the more I speak, and I regret telling him anything at all.
But he has asked and I cannot deny him.
The words begin to flow like a car crash that I am powerless to stop.
"The abuse seemed kind when it happened, from lovers of my past.
Though each had specific rules, that I discovered fast.
I could not touch one unless upon seduction.
I could not trust her, for her death was near upon my fingers.
I loved one; they preferred to see me suffer, for I wished to make them happy."
I can feel the anger radiate from his body,
coiled tight, wanting a target.
I know it's fueled by a sadness, I cannot feel.
And yet I continued.
"I've suffered from nightmares for years, waking to tears or screaming.
I am easy to fright, even when unwarranted.
The PTSD causes me to flinch or jump at near every sound.
PTSD, insomnia, depression,
I've fallen down flights of stairs,
taken care of everyone else and have neglected myself."
I stare into the darkness as the words finally stop,
everything that ever happened replaying through my mind again,
from a new perspective.
Still I cannot feel the true tragedy of it.
I realize I have recited these things, in a monotone voice.
Devoid of the pain I must have felt.
But I am the rock, the caretaker, the forgiver.
He is silent with me, his arms an iron cage,
and I cannot breathe.
I do not mind.
He inhales deeply, his voice nearly inaudible he simply speaks.
"I will always be here for you."
And my heart finally breaks.
Arriving from unknown somewhere
He set up clinic in the market square
Declared he could cure any disease
Using herbal drugs of plants and trees
Townsfolk being credulous
Soon to his shop began to rush
Diabetics, rheumatics, asthmatics flooded
None over his degree brooded
A few weeks later, afloat was this rumor
He cures for he rightly detects the humor
Realizing that every client is a prospective fan
He talked in technical terms even with laymen
He would expose his victims to numerous medical terms
Also trade-names, contents, firms, diseases and germs
Just to exhibit erudition and sound philosophy
Without occasion he embarked on learned topics
Often dwelt on sedatives and epilepsy
Or discoursed at length on tumor and biopsy
Then in a torrent of rodomontade would relate
Histories of cases cured with specific names and date
Discourses full of references to Ayurvedic treatises
Madhav, Charak, Susrut and other varieties
To prove his point he recited aloud original excerpts
As a result ,he soon won the epithet: "expert of experts"
"Discourteous ingrates! They even do not thank
Though I give 'em new life" exclaimed the mountebank.
Always eager to spar against allopathy
At the slightest provocation he would lecture on allopathic hazards
Or would lament on untidy hospitals and unhygienic wards
Boldly averring: "To hide anything from patients is a deadly sin"
Within no time he became a celebrity
His tricks worked and brought him publicity
After a year DHO came to see him in person
And sought his counsel for his sick son
A minister's car at his doorstep halted
Just to enhance libido and weakness treated
He gave the minister powerful mercury dust
Which triggered his vigor and inflamed his lust
Then to CM's ears reached his fragrant fame
Who called him secretly telling him not to declare name
MPs in turn heard of this rare phenomenon
And turned up to consult him one by one
Director drug control came to seek his advice
For chronic dysentery and perennial bronchitis
At length PM had to send him his compliments
For service to nation and" particular "patients
The whole world acknowledged him as master of his craft
But a person knew his truth in his own staff
His compounder knew his master was a fake
But he swallowed the secret for heaven's sake
War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred:
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was.
The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went,
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis,
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?
Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy,
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?
Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries
recited with graceful whispers, gave them
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels
bend under their heavy weight and bow....
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"
Southern Italian Town: Baiano
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
From childhood it was a world of two...you and I...
I leaned lightly, leisurely against your heart and you let me in.
We were five I use to draw you rose scented flowers
using an ordinary led pencil. Youth! The world was ours.
Seven! I know that was the first time I saw you blush.
I whispered a song for you so no one else would hear.
Oh when we were nine! The potato sack race. I entered with Lisa.
You gave me that look. Oh that look! And you left without a word.
At eleven years old I had my "magic wink". "A Magic Wink" you'd
say sarcastically. How it made you giggle to make fun of it.
It was at thirteen we decided to burn the gym floor with our moves.
Our first dance. You stole my breath. Emptied the room of oxygen.
Fifteen...we started running and my God we ran and ran...
our shoe prints dug into the concrete. It was then I knew. Forever.
Then suddenly at seventeen in the slip of time you left, dissapeared.
Stunned! I slept through the next two years even in the full light of day.
At nineteen I swam an endless pool but even the chlorine couldn't
clear your scent from my memory as my spirit filled out hard as steel.
Was it on my twenty first birthday you showed up? You showed up
tried to hug me hello. Silent! Cold! I turned and walked away.
Was I still twenty one when I apologized for that day. When you asked
for an explanation. I recited false words but we both knew. Hurt for hurt.
Then at twenty five we still had issues to work out. I asked you bluntly
why you cut me loose in the prime of our youth. You my first and only.
I asked the question that burned in my gut. Without words your eyes spoke.
You were still in love with me. There was only me. I your first and only.
Finally our lips met to never part again. Left to wonder why, I accept our
lives without an answer. My love was that. Why would I have let you go?
Older than old now. One last time you leave. Death makes this choice.
Alone again I remember how I never knew why once you left.
Not everything is explained or understood,
like music by a one arm man playing a violin.
I sport my blank stare. Naked is the body of life.
Mystery sings blind the song of the lark!
and I...
i think of you.
March 29 2015
Armand
A hunter boy born to God fearing parents
Was taught from his very early childhood;
Failure to attend church on Sundays needed penitence
As it was an act of defying God and dishonoring His parenthood
The boy faithfully took the advice to his heart
But his fad for hunting was too irresistible to put away
Brazenly, he skipped church on one Sabbath day
And roamed through the jungle looking for a prey
Like one on a treasure hunt, excited and gay
He dreamed of hunting down a bird or beast with his dart
In wild enthusiasm, he clambered up every hill ad vale
Exploring every cranny through bush and brake
As he turned to a dark corner, following a trail
There stood a lion and no doubt, his valor did shake
He started shaking and shivering in great fright
On an impulse, the boy turned backwards to run
Alas, he slipped off and rolled down the peak
With the beast chasing him in hot pursuit, like a demon
Crashing on a boulder, his ribs broke with a creak
With dizziness, he knew, he would collapse straight
Unable to run or even move, he writhed in pain.
Trembling from the crown of his head,
To the soles of his feet, as the lion closed in
He realized with a shock, he would soon be dead
And knew his disobedience was the sole cause for his fate
In great desperation, he cried out with all his heart
“Lord, I am so sorry for my willful omission
Please forgive me and save me from being torn apart
Make this lion a good Christian with all compassion”
And rid me safe from this miserable state
Lo, the clouds parted in the heavens with a creak
And a beam of light shone down on the aggressor
The lion skidded to a halt and suddenly turning back
Fell on its knees and clasped its paws together
As if it was full of contrition for its wicked act
In thankfulness, like a good Christian of benevolence
The lion drew the sign of the cross for God’s grace to overpower
And recited in a tone of great reverence and forbearance
“Father in Heaven, bless this food that I am about to devour!”
Before it sprang, through some strange providence, the boy escaped intact
------------------------------------------------
April.8.2022
Tall Tales.2. Poetry Contest
ababc, dedec…. Tail rhymed tall tale
Sponsor- Jeff Kyser
Darkest Of Days, When His Ship Finally Came Home
A wicked chill, even her house could feel its creep
Tho' silence would not hear its horrific demands.
A dark dream, had awakened her from her deep sleep,
With it, she felt blight and doom had come to her lands.
Day's first somber hour, her heart felt its evil threats,
As old clock ticked away with a deafening roar.
She recited morning prayers, to hedge all her bets,
Went into dirty streets to give aid to the poor.
An angel waiting for ship to arrive in port,
Heart and soul knew, he had been away far too long.
Homecoming, one she prayed weather could not abort,
Time flew by, to docks she raced, love singing its song.
Faith, love and hope filled all her lonesome, aching heart,
With such promises, her wanting nights had been spent.
Sun shown bright, her heart suddenly felt a new start
With merriest of thoughts, onto the docks she went.
Crowd hovering around a blanketed body there
Suddenly her heart felt greatest of her dark fears
Please she prayed,"If its him, tis more than I can bear"
Then she saw, her feet felt wet of her falling tears.
She had ran away, falling down to cry and pray
Looking back, at his ship's flag wave, in wafting wind.
Yet no answer came, Fate had had its dark death way
Answering her cries," Please Lord, let this nightmare end".
A wicked chill, even her house could feel its creep
Tho' silence would not hear its horrific demands.
A dark dream, had awakened her from her deep sleep,
With it, she felt blight and doom had come to her lands.
Day's first somber hour, her heart felt its evil threats,
As old clock ticked away with a deafening roar.
She recited morning prayers, to hedge all her bets,
Went into dirty streets to give aid to the poor.
An angel waiting for ship to arrive in port,
Heart and soul knew he had been away far too long.
Homecoming, one she prayed weather could not abort,
Time flew by, to docks she raced, love singing its song.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-19-2018
Rhyme 12/12,(When Fate Speaks)
NOTE- This was completed this morn, written from an old poem fragment from back in , April 2001. I am trying to finish many of my great many old poem fragments , before my time arrives , as Fate waits for no man!!
(TW : Abusive marriage )
So we are here in this garden less green than the ones you promised .
Oh you say this ?
you the girl with eyes browner than the skin , 5 feet of womanhood , 7 inches of literature .( says the man who plays the man)
How I wish I could revisit those 5 inches !
(Says the girl who plays the wife , who could revolve around the world but revolved around this holy fire less holy more fire )
You , weren't you my partner satellite moon ? Or were you another mercury ?
I thought you were sugar , you'd mix in hot water when I'd make tea for you but Alas !
You were always mercury , meant to vapourize and
then suddenly enter my body to cause sleep disorders and nervous breakdowns .
So I have a question paper like the ones they give in schools to fool children .
1)Is this my monologue like every other or will you reply ?
2)Are you dead or you pretend to be ?
3)Can I your wife play dead ?
and if I play dead , will you make food for chotu and manage the laundry ?
4)Can wives play dead or become "Plutos" , leaving the solar system with its fireball and mercury leaving no trace of cool winds and dwarfism ?
I have a last questions to ask , like Neil Armstrong had for moon .
5)Did the moon turn out to be what he expected or did he find craters ?
If he found craters I would travel to the past in a time machine or my washing machine and tell him that he was lucky to find craters on the moon , I never found a moon except for karvachauth , the festival they make us celebrate to see the real moon and then see the mercury that appeared like moon but wasn't .
Though I am not allowed to answer you back but let me open ,
ans) I , Sarla , the wife of a man who is just a man wasn't lucky enough to find a moon when I was sent away from my brown and blue earth with grasslands green and sky as blue as lapis lazuli
I wish I could play dead or
extremely volatile like you do but there are clothes to wash ,
lies to be recited in the ears of children when they ask for stories .
How I wish I could recite them poems from literature but Alas !
I am Sarla and I am just 5 feet tall , tall enough to remain invisible in this solar system .
#Tragedy #Society #Struggle
To my enemies,
cloaked in t w i n k l i n g topaz~
I’ve become immune
to your illusive m a n t r a s,
recited in roseate refrains.
I’ve learned to see
the vermilion
f l o a t i n g
between venomous
pigments of
psychedelic sunsets
For life is a whirlpool
of uncertainties
slithering through
l o o p h o l e s of adversities
We waltz through
h i g h s and l o w s
while masked foes
orchestrate a
a circus embellished
in emerald s p r i n g s
Yet, I f o r g i v e
your i g n o r a n t skies,
unable to grasp
the vision of loyalty
You’ve long been
preaching in
verses of lyrical lies,
soaring above
catastrophic canopies~
draped with my
sentimental s i g h s
this conscience remains
constantly crippled
by the ecstasy of
poisonous promises~
served from
diamond chalices
once upon
a blood m o o n
There’s still
a pearlescent
shore for faithless
footprints in the
island of h e a l i n g
in the marine bed
of softness
that f l o w s
beneath seething seas,
there I’ll sculpt a
lagoon of
p r a y e r s across
fire corals that
f l i c k e r
in tints of
lethal lime green
As I allow aquatic
pearl ruffles to ripple
through weary waves,
they become the
sacred v e s s e l
that unveils
hyacinth stars,
when your heart is
as dark as the
eclipsed moonflowers
Tonight, I’ll rewrite
the poems I’ve woven
from golden arrows
that assassinated
the alliterative tranquility
in sinister silence
within my inner psyche
In the journey of revival
I’ve mastered the art
of wearing pain
like a crown of
thistles and thorns
I’ll forgive you
amidst unspoken apologies,
and e r a s e the
a c h i n g colors
within greying rainbows,
behind your
soulless eyes.
For, I can feel the
insecurities r u s h i n g
through those veins~
longing for an empathetic
empire that
serves you
k i n d n e s s
So take these metaphors,
make them yours,
ink them across
your s u n l e s s canvas,
and r i s e beyond the
demons that lurk
as shadows within
your a r t l e s s heart.
May the light of twilight,
correct your insincere intentions.
It was a new year's party
Footfalls of the cups and glasses
Dances of the eyes and tongue
The time swung with the music
She wore a light pink lipstick
A lithe body of twenty
A handndsome cascade in the eyes
Time forgot to fly
Across the table
Sat a young man of about twenty one
The brilliant eyes there and then won
Her thoughts
The river and the yacht
The conversation spurred
Further invitations and meets
For the hungry heartbeats
They got married
One day in the evening
Were into a starry swing
Under the dream-filled stars
He talked of the Venus and Mars
Mentioned the milkyway and black holes
Adjusted the rose in the buttonhole
She recited Eliot under the oak and chestnut
The time rippling in the two pink huts
Just a few weeks later
When he was about to unveil the nature
Looking into the time and space
Amazed at its grace
To find out
If God really did not play
The dice with the universe
He was diagnosed with a deadly disease
She stood by refusing to be daunted
We will not allow it to be terminal
She was emphatic
As in the wheel chair
He would amble
Though the doctors gave no more than
Three years of life
The river resolved
To stand by the desert
The chlorophyll by the grey leaves
Eyes keeping close watch on the disease
She pieced together the broken sun
Aggregate of many a moment of the nun
Weaving his tattered confidence
With the wools of warm love for the husband
A fragrance of the garden
The home and family
Rested exclusively on her shoulders
Though overwhelmed
They carried out the responsibility
Ungrudginly
The disease relented
Its progress slackened
The stars in the night sky celebrated
The togetherness unbridled
He travelled on
From the summit to the next summit
Done it, she exclaimed
________________________________________________________
March 21, 2018
Together we are strong - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Note : As I was not personally involved in what happened, I understand the poem might not fit into the frame of the sponsor. Still considering the strength of the togetherness highlighted in the poem I am entering it for the contest