Long Recognition Poems
Long Recognition Poems. Below are the most popular long Recognition by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Recognition poems by poem length and keyword.
The seeming same under heavens sparkling tent,
passing transparent grays when moonlight went.
Mental aggregation from that pain of deep,
when all could be perfect with some needed sleep.
Unpredictable tincture when unknown one self embrace,
myriads of senses painting some speculated place.
Same but not same from subtle melodies of haze,
memories in different light play mental amazed.
Is that the prophesy to shift that light to shade,
or is madness a soft color weaving a parade.
Smiting faces in facets laughing by fraction in time,
loving affection needed as promised everlasting prime.
Shrouds of shivering sensations quickly manifold,
pouncing adrenalin pushing the heart so bold.
Ecstasies of psychic destruction in vain,
fears not recognized pushing some catalyst again.
So many deaths to bring back the unique sole self,
frames of beauties still stream in graceful parallels.
Charmed images flying to all bewildered new, the quicken of life eventually changes the view. Not wanting to see that Jack in the box of self therein,
parts of recognition call it dementia with respect to refine.
(8/30/12)
Here we both stand on common ground
Fighting for recognition when there’s none to be found
Two hearts that have become as one
And has fought every obstacle and has won.
Why don’t people see the love that we share
And if it doesn’t hurt them
Why should they care.
But the love for each other is not the
only thing we have on common ground
We have everything that GOD has put down.
The trees, the grass, the butterflies, the bees
This is just part of what is seen.
The stars , the sky , the moon above
All of this is what we love.
The seas, the rivers, the mountains too
All of these things have been given to you.
These petty jealousies can tear them apart
Why don’t they search in their heart.
They can find the love the same as us
For it’s given from above.
If our two hearts are stronger than one
Imagine millions with GODS son.
© L .RAMS
Some think that when we die
we go to a higher plain,
where we live a peaceful life
away from the heartache and pain.
But what if we're just born again
and given a different name,
brought up by different parents
so it doesn't seem the same.
The knowledge of each lifetime
is in the memory of your soul,
of which you are an extension
and the only place you're whole.
You still would meet your loved ones
as though it were pre-arranged,
there would be no recognition
but the vibrations haven't changed.
Maybe different experiences
are what we're here to collect,
and only when the task is complete
can our soul be considered perfect.
Poem placed first in the contest Pick-A-Title, Vol 54 by Edward Ibeh.
Contest judged on September 5th, 2025 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like Pooh and Piglet tracing tracks in snow
thinking they were following Woozle.
You chase your own footsteps, mistaking them for mine,
Running in circles on a phantom pursuit,
Like setting a snare for shadows in the night.
Now my twenty years are crowned with success and recognition,
After years of losing promotion to the unworthy,
Not for lack of effort or devotion to my work,
But because your tongue spread slanders to pull me down.
You crave all ears to believe you more deserving of my glory,
Yet each backbite only deepens the grave of your favours.
Your slanders strengthen the faith that God has in me—
The more you speak ill, the clearer I prove you false.
You tried to burn the ladder of my success, not knowing I rose by elevator.
You were drunk with bitterness as I embraced triumph,
And swept away when my planted seed blossomed.
Now I stand a beast, a giant, a titan—beyond the reach of your withered hands.
You sail a sinking ship without a lifeboat,
Your chase spins you round till you stagger and fall.
Biting the air, you only wound yourself—
A dog chasing tail, never finding the prize.
The crow arrived before the sunrise,
black wings dissolving inside the fog,
as if the morning itself
had forgotten how to exist.
The world was silent except for grief.
Even the trees stood still,
holding dead leaves
like old letters never answered.
I walked through the cold field alone,
carrying entire winters inside my chest.
There are sadnesses so deep
they no longer cry —
they simply become part of the weather.
The crow watched me carefully.
Not with fear.
Not with mercy.
But with the recognition
of another wounded creature surviving the dark.
And for one brief moment,
inside that endless gray mist,
I felt less abandoned
by the universe.
— Juliana Hoffmann Liska
Sitting on the edge
of a broken relationship
reflecting on the occasional
warmth of togetherness
and plenty of sad, feelings of being let down
jilted and miffed, I struggled to let go.
Faintly saw an invisible force
flickering inside, weakly trying to hold
the corners of my inner self
nudging me to forget the past
and move on bravely
for I had wished or done no harm ever to anyone,
what to talk of near ones.
Instead, it hinted me to be thankful
to the revealing events that
brought the naked truth to fore
that showed in clear light falseness,
pretentions of affection, friendship, love
that required burdensome formalities
to carry on a complex relationship
reaching to nowhere.
It nagged me to stop wasting my precious
time, energy, thoughts and love
hoping against hope that maybe
things would be alright, soon
and chasing the bygone memories
which have pained and hurt
and tended to make me feel weak.
It also implored me to seek
simple, firmer, newer relationship,
where affection flowed freely and openly
to and fro, without causing feeling of guilt
to be confident of the goodness within oneself
and see it blossom and flower
bringing smiles and cheer
in the lives of others and self.
A recognition of self-respect took roots
somewhere down inside
and the faint ray of hope sprouted
freshness in my heart and mind
I madly clung on to the sane inner voice
and shedding the fear of
what others would think of me
I walked back to life
with a spring in my feet, forever.
06.01.2015
You were diligent, honest, and keen
when you first joined our ranks.
Your efficiency was a quiet marvel,
your integrity is a sturdy backbone.
I, the head, was blind to your worth,
too caught up in flashier performances.
Your steady hand went unnoticed,
your silent triumphs uncelebrated.
Now the organisation falters,
burdened by flashy incompetence.
I look at you with newfound eyes,
finally seeing what I missed.
This time, it's I who am in dire need
of the qualities you embodied all along.
Oh, but your spirit is dimmed now,
worn down by years of neglect.
The spark in your eyes has faded,
And your once-eager steps now weary.
My belated recognition comes too late
to reignite your dampened fire.
You've learned to blend with the shadows,
no longer seeking approval or praise.
The efficient, honest you, I now crave,
but has retreated beyond my reach.
Kurt had enough of being told to adhere to streamlined expectations
He took revenge on prescriptions’ illiterate figures of speechlessness
Inconsebustible he recosseted the unsetentionable avarocosotamy
Carfumbled the extrocorision intempofandizzled sleptorous fimbra
Concoctivized a streptafoam pinclept sklinted slotomatized cundles
Hailfathomed a muncturous cleapage recoclusterated all deflopture
‘Ayotojeh’ he scrouted ‘ Funaply carbunculates vintorious lampture’
‘Evangelolitic monopolytigizes confliderate whoopsical avaricedom’
Coslapterouly he whiptilustered the lonctaphile illiterascible glout
In nuptohabituous cluspers he hoiled rebellioconformized plisture
Idiosynchrotably contrapeteous unidecliption levantered in troads
In a final twist of meaning and superior recognition of scluptitude
Kurt lived happily as he claimed victory over convention and checks
10th March 2020
There was a time so carefree we were.
Time we had more than enough!
A blue sky meant a sunny day.
Our eyes with merry would dance
Thinking of another day in a cave;
A fascinating world compared
To the insipid one we lived.
There was a time so carefree we were.
Time we had more than enough!
A team of young spirited we were
Roam and explore deeper the
Womb of Mother Nature, we dare.
Our first project we mounted
Which “Save the caves” we called.
There was a time so carefree we were.
Time we had more than enough!
First time my knees were jelly,
On sight of a dark gaping mouth
Waiting in the bush to engulf life.
Turned back I did to run as fast.
But mates pulled me back, by force.
There was a time so carefree we were.
Time we had more than enough!
Romance in the air, stories got weaved;
Studying life of cave swiftlet was it,
Identifying fauna and flora was it,
Paint flowed, guitars vibrated, cameras clicked
Whilst meeting were some hearts in secret.
There was a time so carefree we were.
Time we had more than enough!
The dark deep tunnel getting darker
And the mud stickier; all excited we were.
Droplets, ice cold, poked our faces
From fissures in rocky roof, craftwork
Of nature’s carvers; fascinated we gazed.
There was a time so carefree we were.
Time we had more than enough!
The caves’ beauty we set to restore;
Scraps in loads we met, grotesque
Craftwork of human; underground water
We met, smelling of chemical pungent.
Awaken did we, the sleeping authorities.
One day our mission was accomplished
And the caves found back their beauty.
5/08/16
Contest: Caves
(We worked on "Saves the caves" project in 1992 and were offered a shield in recognition - I dedicate this poem to all friends who made it a success)
Rain whipped by,
And the wipers tasked with maintaining sight struggled to keep up.
Despite the wiper’s determination though,
the driver needed not look,
As in his inebriation his control would merely worsen with sight.
The wheels upon which he rode turned quickly,
yet slid along the unstable gravel.
And as the driver lost consciousness,
The road gave way just in time to spite his drunkenness.
First the headlight cracked,
Then the metal upon which the car was supported bent and split.
And finally, the separation between the derelict and his storm gave way:
As the window shattered beyond recognition.
Now,
Rested upon an old willow,
The manifestation of all inadequacies lay;
A young man,
who failed to drive the car upon which fate destined him,
Met his end -
in introduction to the monsters of his irresolution.