Long Related Poems
Long Related Poems. Below are the most popular long Related by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Related poems by poem length and keyword.
speaking for myself regarding contests
related to poetry, here on soup
let me get this confession off my chest
focus is the divine energy loop
same handle on spiritual forums
I have this yearning to share what I know
that each node in form, bliss sensorium
Gods divine pulse that keeps us all aglow
my contests are simply about God search
that we may each fulfil our life purpose
those closer to love, on higher ranks perch
form and geometry, part of circus
there is learning in participating
humility in lovingly judging
20-April-2021
Judge not lest ye be poetry contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
When the breeze kissed him through the window ,
the streaks of his hair swayed and did glow.
When he noticed me amidst the flock,
he was stunned, his eyes didn't blink.
His sharp eyes pierced my strong heart
His cute smile kept my worries apart
When I tried to distract my sight,
he thundered, with his voice bright.
Though there were people round us,
not to everyone he expressed
and not everyone got impressed.
Without having spoken a word
I entered into his world
Since I had fallen in love without any reasons,
I pondered, "is this related to a past life connection?"
However I knew his glimpse, a passing cloud
The seeds of bliss he sowed
will be flowering forever
Dedicated to a stranger's baby, whom I met while travelling in a public transport, who wanted me to keep seeing and smiling at him... He didn't allow me to see anywhere... It was really a lovely feel to be loved by an unknown baby...
Past be not
With these currentceies
Past me not
That I had to find
Something different and
Unique
Past me not
In such a distinction
To be all you
Want me to be
Lovers most
the sweet surrender
Dolce the sound
That had seemed
Unsatisfied I speak
Us asunder
Replenish my fait
In thee
Oh blessed me
That you are my lover
Oh blessed me
You might take my hand
Salvage all
That we have
Together
So that we
Might still remain friends
Then he whispered
Love in the conversation
Related me to
Fiancee
I excepted his want
With an answer
We begin
This Glorious day
I sang
Jesus
Jesus
Allan is not
Perfect and kind
I sang
Jesus
Oh, Jesus
Love our sweet remind
Let's dispel the miss-truth of telling:
I can't compel you to think my way.
Instead it's images, word play, rhymes, jangles, sounds and clangs
That I share, that shows you how the theme plays
in my mind as connected ideas,
that I hope will gel an in-kind reaction in you,
Not the same as mine, but related, in similar vein.
I love words, how they sound and convey thoughts, expressly
As mental images, to unwired, disconnected, independent brains
in ways far beyond what any
wired connection could ever do, not imposing me on you,
but sharing, showing, not telling, nor compelling me to you.
It's the succinct devices of poetry
that make this word play game together, work.
Sheesh! I think there are ANTS IN MY PANTS! The strange kid yelled.
The rest of us started laughing like our HEARTS were going to fall out.
Her annoyance tickled us, she had not been invited, and was not welcome.
We were thirteen, and a mighty group of three. Not four.
SORRY! I apologized. No POKER face, so she probably knew I was lying.
There would be big TROUBLE for me though if her mealy mouth
mama came after mine.
We were distantly related through an OLD MAID aunt,
which does not make sense either.
GUESS WHO would call my mother if I didn’t start back pedaling here?
So I began to grovel. It’s not funny! I said. Then I asked her if she was okay.
She was the weirdest kid LIFE could have coughed up,
and where did she land?
Ha! In my friendship circle, and it was pure AGGRAVATION.
Don’t get MAD I said, insincerely.
I have to GO FISH, my friend Jacque said.
She could not stop laughing as she left.
You don’t have a MONOPOLY on fishing!
Patty yelled after her. They were competitive.
“Did you set this MOUSETRAP?” My mother hollered from somewhere below us.
Mousetraps were TABOO at our house,
with a four-year-old around.
“No, Dad set it!” I yelled.
Knowing he was going to get IT now.
Did you want to play? The strange kid asked us.
We pretended CONCENTRATION, and played a few hands,
just to let her think we liked her.
She was snarly and grumpy, and still dancing around, scratching herself.
No POKER face either.
Written 3-4-2019
Contest: Anyone Game?
Sponsor: Carol Connell
“Let’s unite the world! “ The exuberant pretty teenager yelled.
She was shaking a yellow sign in the street. She had torn jeans.
A plethora of tattoos snaked up her arm, and her bellybutton showed.
I agree! I screamed, honking and shaking my fist.
She gave me the finger. I wondered how that united us.
“Let’s unite the world! “ The check- out lady at the grocery said.
I agree! I said with full head on enthusiasm. Shall we start with us?
She glared at me with pineapple points and said “I was talking to her”
Oh. They lady behind me.
I kept quiet after that.
“Let’s unite the world!” the mama said to her drag-queen daughter.
Her daughter laughed until she thought she would fall off the couch.
We cannot even agree backstage after a show who goes first.
Goes on stage first?
No. Who gets to leave first; no one wants to clean.
“Let’s unite the world!” the five-year-old suggested to his mama.
What a smart child she thought. He really is onto something.
Then she turned on her TV set which taught her to hate liberals.
She did not know what they were, but now she hated them.
I know because she is related to me and I am a liberal's liberal.
You read out of obligation,
a tit for tat consolation...
a "thank you for your visit" affirmation
it's cool, this unspoken rule
I do it too, so what’s new?
It's only being civil
community code of camaraderie
who can break free?
It needs to be done
loyalties need to be won
so does the "comment hit and run"
then on to another one
I appreciate that, truth be told
this give and take system should hold
on poetic pleasantries, I am sold
“Reciprocity” is gold
Oh, but that's not quite the same
as being sure that you came
because I'm a favorite name
in your poet hall of fame
Come goaded by greed
desperate to feed
voyeuristic as I bleed
needing my pain to be freed
Come craving my rhyme fix
the potency of this mix
my poetic party tricks
Come click for the best picks
Read the poet pillaged by pain
who's been baptized by rain
holding on to the sane
let me battle your bane
Read me because you know
you need me to grow
Dip in the stream of this flow
words above, words below
Read and be set on fire
by word kindling of desire
Flames that lick passion higher
making each thought perspire
Obligation is overrated
though my words might be dated
the ideas? NOT antiquated
to existence they’re related
Come visit me
Come here so you’ll see
Passion infused poetry
that melds you and me
Eileen Manassian
The four-year-old child became excited when the sky turned pink.
She began pointing to the mountain top which made us think.
She was actually seeing the white dragon of whom she spoke.
We were intrigued, but a bit scared, being simple folk.
White conch shell dragon, she said, look at his wings!
How did she know it was a he? Was she not imagining things?
Let’s go talk to him, she suggested, sure of herself of course.
We led her over there on her steed, a small miniature horse.
She spoke at length, and answered for the dragon too.
Telling us his name was Arthur Upright MaCoo.
He overlooks the valley and keeps the cows safe, she said.
Bringing a mystical pink to help look over this homestead.
Why did he choose us? We asked the child, wondering so.
He loves the valley, the farm, and the way you two glow.
We glow? We looked at each other and smiled so big.
And he likes the dog, the cats, the duck and our pig.
We felt cherished now, beloved in a whole new way.
What our child had related simply made our day.
So when the sky turns pink, we say hello to Arthur MaCoo.
We feel cherished, honored and loved. Now, wouldn’t you?
Wrestling not with flesh and blood…
Here am I battling with forces in my mind and soul
As I see myself plunging into the sinkhole of midlife crises…
Oh, God, Your grace I beseech to pull me toward sobriety’s leverage
…Prop my faith by Your truth and mercy’s fortitude.
Confronting every fragment of self-pity’s guilt…
Here am I struggling over weakness-angst’s realities
As I confess my engagements with comfort-sparkled illusion…
My Lord, endue me with wisdom for a decisive resolution, indeed peace-filled
…Protect my testimony from being labeled as spiritual derelict.
Facing ambivalence midst maturity challenges…
Here am I subduing attacks of aging-related psychosis
As I admit my vulnerability and fears regarding my health…
Dear Saviour, uphold me in my well-being afflictions
…Propel my triumphant walk’s commitment against instability’s* fall.
*James 1:8 A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.
2 Corinthians 2:14 Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place.
June 11, 2019
2nd place, "You and Yours, Let's Get Personal" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 7/11/2019.
Inside, light contrasts
with shadows outside my window
memories of other lives
in other times.
Somewhere a woman
calls herself my mother.
She is a close friend
first met on another day,
and I am one of the people
taken into her into life.
She says we’re all related
by some measure,
working, playing, loving,
dreaming in soliloquies.
To be born alone
means to die the same,
and survivors weather the change.
She says what counts
is what happens in between
beginnings and endings
philosophies shared
over herbal tea and soy nuts.
When others outside my window
begin their days, I ponder
degrees of separation
reflected in relations
I’ve come to know.