Long Relented Poems
Long Relented Poems. Below are the most popular long Relented by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Relented poems by poem length and keyword.
How many years? I'm not even sure
It was late in the day, as the sun turned to rust
I was holding his hand, and trembling with fear
Kicking up dust with my Mary Jane shoes
filled with concoctions of sugar and goo
Looking at him for assurance and trust
I remember our feet boarding the plank
as if on the brink, of a life or death prank
My Dad, (for the fourth time, a smile on his face)
had offered a chance to back out with grace
But I was determined, insistent and firm!
How many times, had he taken a turn...
with my brother in tow?....While I watched from below
confined like a babe of the infantile row?
Dad finally relented, to my mother's chagrin
then took my hand,.......and my bravado began...
Sticky the heat, and so were my hands, ...we waited our turn
while a tummy would churn
We boarded the Cyclone, a faceless contraption,
that seemed quite familiar...the seaside attraction
that brother had made on our living room floor
with his Tinker Toy set, and the toys we adored
A strange looking man with a raw sunburned nose
and a head that seemed too small, like a small cabbage, posed
escorted us on, into a red metal bucket,
strapped us inside, like mice in his pocket!
The sound of the metal, was skimming the track
Winding up slowly, then full-on attack!
I buried my face in the arm of my Dad....
Blinded by fear, never once looking back
The Cyclone, I'm sure was fierce as could be
I wanted to look, and was too blind to see
Finally it stopped. We departed unharmed !
But never again... I was........NOT to be charmed
I only remember my two shaky knees,
barely walking the plank into my mother's arms !
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5/21/14
Even when in dream
And all the more
Life be not what it seem
But lo, a revolving door
And we step thro’ without knowing
What awaits the other side
A silent horizon; a twilight glowing—
Or a teary long-distance call—
That lets us know,
A dear friend has died.
And the tears we cried as we’d decide
They are better off, now the pain is gone,
Or fool our own selfish desire
To have them yet by your side,
To laugh as we once laughed,
And cry as we once cried.
To fold ourselves within each others lives,
And giveth a hope that beyond all, love survives—
Death and every end we perceive;
The sun setting in a bitter eve,
From which, we lift our heads from the drowning dread
And lay ourself down to bed,
With the memories that brought us the most joys;
The golden years when we fought over toys
And relented in “sorries” said,
The best of best friends,
And to the later love we were led.
Let love transcend—
Let sorrow say it’s last goodbyes,
We’ll always have yesterday
Till alas,
Our ancient flower,
Our destiny—
Blooms and hitherto dies.
(and gods little bee, with pollen, flies)
In the comfort of home, as dinner I ate, my dog barked and growled so clearly.
But then, a presence, unknown and strong, Pinned me down, in darkness, where I did not belong.
I found myself in a tunnel of light, With lights flashing, a vision unclear, a mysterious sight.
An entity spoke, its voice cold and dread, Said I should be dead, but I shook my head.
"No, I say, no," casting the darkness out," Denying the fate that would mean my death.
With a final gasp, the entity relented, Releasing me from the grip it had invented.
In that moment of fear and unknown power, I found the strength to resist and to cower.
A whisper of mortality, a glimpse of the divine, In this strange encounter, I remain, in awe of that unseen face.
I am married to a man who gives money generously
Not only to me but to every person with their hand out
This used to not be a problem but these days panhandlings is a full-time job.
The panhandlers get together and ask “Have you seen Joe today?
What direction was he heading?”
They know his haunts. Dollar store, gas station, Arby’s, McDonald’s, Wendy’s
They cry when they see it is me driving.
I am not thrilled giving away my money
I was forced to give up my money at the age of eighteen
After I had saved every check for three years
Because my parents said they could not afford college.
When my twin and I got there my parents demanded I fork over my money
Money I had earned while my twin was in track, GRA, Y-teen
Money I had earned at $1.25 an hour for four hours after school.
And all day on Saturday.
They wanted my money so my twin could go to college.
"It would not be fair if one twin got to go, and the other twin did not.
Fair?
They were talking about fair?
My mother said "We are going to take you home if you do not
give us your passbook."
I was eighteen, I thought they could take college away.
I had no advocate so I reluctantly relented.
I would not have been so reluctant
If my twin had WANTED to go to college.
She was sobbing and wailing because she did not want to be there.
I do not think she attended classes more than a week.
I was sobbing and wailing because my parents STOLE my money.
Money they said they would pay back.
I had no guarantee of this, now that they had violated my trust.
Some kid was hotfooting it to my car today.
Feeling strongly he was going to ask me for money I wanted to pull out.
A lady whizzed in, cornering me, so I was still there upon his arrival.
Um, ma’am, he said “Could you spare a few dollars?”
Instantly furious I yelled this “I just retired. I worked hard for my money.
Get OUT OF MY WAY!”
I know my husband would have handed him money
And maybe a key to the car or groceries.
But my husband did not have MY parents.
His trust was NOT violated.
He thinks I am selfish for not giving.
I am not selfish, I am remembering....
When my brother was fading away,
black chimes signaled for the demons to play.
They attacked all sides of my hobbled mind.
Treating the heart like an orphaned marble
They were rabid and had brackish intentions
Hope chipped away like a crowbar to cement.
In a dream, one of them took me into its sky
I clung tight to its undercarriage
begging for it to release me
It promised that it would if I said
that I loved it...I relented
It didn't keep its promise as expected
and we wrecked together.
I coddled a little amber cross....
(a field mouse in an owl's greying claw).
I was dismissed into a pillow of tranquility
The demons slowly drifting away...
as did my brother the very next day.
By Jove...Zeus cleft Eos tacit alibi
pact wrought since time
immemorial bye and bye
temporarily, symbolically,
and unwaveringly
superstitions, phenomenal mysteries
jaw dropping eve vents out of sky
explained where within fie
foo fighting mythological
pantheon, the dualistic forces
of light and dark
didst die whar,
yours truly did e'er lee ask why,
and simultaneously warily eye,
whence no idea why
aboot twelve hours prior,
predictable regular
tug of war try
ensued, when twilight didst sigh
leant lee enshroud
the dusky sky
light speedily seeped away,
hence nightly raiment
of Astraeus predictably quashed,
nee wrested with nary a cry
this September twenty ninth,
unusual wakefulness state
crafted golden opportunity
didst nudge me fort hoo try
to maximize spate of bright
tailed and bushy eyed,
state, which rare
quotidian event, I
unfortunately rarely espy,
cuz my circadian rhythm
usually well nigh
finds me sound asleep at least
til mid morning this guy,
thus flush with more
energy than usual aye
make a feeble (minded) attempt
to nudge, kickstart, and coalesce,
viz nebulous thoughts within my
fog enshrouded noggin
unable, unaccustomed,
and unwillingness
relented for me to pry
opened tightly shut – cubed bricked
hermetically sealed
steel trap eyelids
ocular orbs didst defy
Herculean dramatic attempt
yielded futile tussle,
where outcome brought
stellar surprise high
hoe, a spectacular dawn
scene rarely seen by this guy.
The Old Car
by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2016
Remember when we used to say
“I’ve got to trade this car”
it hard to start in the mornings
and it won’t go very far
The linkage to the gears all shot
the timing just don’t time
if I find someone silly enough
I’ll sell it for a dime
Just when you think your minds made up
and tomorrow it’s a trade
it seems as though it reads your thoughts
and steps it up a grade
It started great this morning
and the linkage worked just fine
I’ve driven quite a distance
and the timing seems in time
She seems to know what I’ve been thinking
and is trying to change my mind
and show, even if I go looking
a better car I just won’t find
I know she has done this before
the decision’s been prevented
and I have not shown her the door
like a fool I have relented
but this time she just has to go
she just cannot be trusted
she’ll start it all again I know
but this time, she’s been busted
...or What's science got to do with it?
Galileo looked through a lens one day
And, boy, was he astounded.
The Earth wasn't flat as he'd been told,
It was, in fact, quite rounded.
Pope Urban VIII then came along
And said, "No, that's absolutely wrong,
For, I, the Church, do not agree, and I'm the Wise One.
It's just as plain as plain can be why my pontifical decree's
The Earth is flat and ends right there at the horizon.
And for infallibility, you know, I am renownded."
So Galileo relented and recanted his boast
So he wouldn't be tortured or turned into toast.
A few centuries passed,
A new Pope said he guessed
That his theory might have been misjudged,
Since back then science was begrudged,
And the Church owed him a pardon,
Or a posthumous papal "perhaps", at the most.
“And the top prize is to spend the day with a ventriloquist,” my mother told me,
Proudly. She was the organizer of the carnival, and thought this up herself.
What the heck? I had bought fifty raffle tickets. I wanted a new car or rent money.
Certainly not a whole day with that old geezer.
The old geezer worked the church carnival like a new groom.
He was everywhere, charming everyone but me.
I was in pout mode.
And of course I won top prize.
He called me six times to make a date.
I finally relented, reluctantly.
Thinking what a horrible day it would be, a wasted Saturday.
Within minutes of meeting him I discovered something right away.
The ventriloquist looked old, but he was younger than me in attitude.
He was playful and fun, more like a twelve year old boy than a sixty-two-year-old grandpa.
I missed my twelve year olds, they had dumped me long ago.
Choosing their friends over their mother.
Within the first two hours, I had laughed harder than I had
Laughed in six or eight years.
We did only the things I wanted to do.
He showed me how to throw my voice, but I was not any good.
We did not care.
He asked me what I wanted to do.
I wanted to go to a pawn shop. I had never been to one, and so we went.
We ate lunch at my favorite restaurant, and he insisted on paying.
In the afternoon when we said our goodbyes, I hugged him hard.
It was one of the best days of my life.
And the last day of his.
I think of this often, and
How glad I am that his cheerful playful spirit changed my hardened attitude.
Submitted to Anthony Slausen's Ventriloquist
Contest
June 19, 2018
She started a screenplay but it got insanely boring,
So she flipped to a clean page and began a novel.
By page two she could not bear it. It was not making sense.
I will write a poem, she thought.
Poems came easily. They were shorter. They did not bore her.
The punchlines were fast and clever. She wrote twelve poems.
This satisfied her urge more than a bit. She kept writing poetry.
A poetess now, self-imposed.
She hid them away for years. They were hers, not to be shared.
Let me see one, a friend begged. And begged. And begged.
She relented, and almost no comments were made.
An occasional “hmmmmm” which was not satisfying at all.
She did not show her poems again for a long long time.
The people who professed to love her the most were the most critical
When she did. They began to write poems too. They bragged about theirs
Which were so much better than hers.
Anyway that is what she thought.
She was totally wrong.
Died with a plethora of poems that were insanely good
Not knowing this at all.
They were burned in a bonfire by her nieces and nephews.
Many who could not read, and some who did not read
Even though they could have if they had wanted to
Which is more the pity.