Long Reminder Poems
Long Reminder Poems. Below are the most popular long Reminder by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reminder poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s like re-framing the mind down to the very last nail
The ability to remind just in telling our own simple tale
From stilling the roughest day to adding calm to a worrisome night
In all along telling people to pray and keep the good Lord in sight
It’s the revealing of your heart right down to it’s deepest pain
It is the continual picking apart in order to try to make some gain
It’s the shining of His Light a Light that all are able to see
Yet with all this being in sight it’s really just being me
For every word built is from a letter yet each is an important part
Stating that it’s going to get better if only you open up your heart
But with every single thought and each newly transferred phrase
Everything was all entirely sought for God's own Glory and praise
So it’s certainly not a whim or some silly little phase
But a simple reminder of Him and all of His loving Ways
So many will aspire but so few will succeed
Yet you need only the desire He will plant the seed
Ecclesiastes 3:7
He was the copilot of a passenger plane
He stabbed the pilot, but he wasn't insane
He meant to crash the plane, wanted everyone to die
Because it was going to Israel, from Muslim Dubai.
He was a Palestinian Arab, driving a car.
Drove it into a bus stop, where Jews are.
Teen girl in serious condition, blood and pain
He was shot dead, but he won, such a shame.
The Eagles of Death had a Metal concert in France
Real death came; Muslim terror took the chance.
Shot 90 there, and killed other people same day
What is this hatred, why must infidels pay?
Manchester teens flocked to hear Ariana Grande
But a suicide bomber extended terrors long hand.
His bomb was full of nails, imagine the hate behind.
The ideology, the righteous wrath, the corrupted mind.
In that blast died Liam, Chloe, Eilidh, Megan, and Neil.
Do you care, do you remember, do you put up a shield?
And the guy who drove his truck on New York's bicycle path
Walkers and cyclists had to die for his wrath.
And the fellow who drove a truck into partiers in New Orleans
Bodies thrown into the air, a horror movie scene
Terrence and Hubert, Kareem and LaTasha, Martin and Nicole
I never knew them, but my blood runs cold.
The Boston Marathon ran to hell
Bombs planted with steel shrapnel
The bombers took the Afghanistan side
Krystie, and Lu, and an eight-year-old died
Then they shot Sean of the MIT police
Multiple bullets, his life had to cease
Dennis Simmonds took a year to fade
They had hit him with a hand grenade.
Some people had to have limbs amputated
A reminder of being hated
An endless fountain of unfair motivation
evil, deluded men, I despise their frustration.
We have a right to life, liberty and happiness pursuit
If a man comes to end this, we have to shoot.
There is no safety for good men but to assume
That evil has no limits and desires our doom.
My arms stretched around her.
She rose like a flower.
Blossoming to life.
Her lips a bud.
Flourished full.
I a reddish ceramic.
A reminder that we are grounded.
She filled where I felt most empty.
On certain days she would dance in my arms.
Painting my cheeks rose red.
Creating foundation we both can grow.
Her trust being the ultimate gift.
Arms wide open she dug deeper.
Without soil, water or sun.
I'd stunt her growth.
Our self love being reason to how we feed each other.
Blooming the petals of what became ideal.
I gave without fear that the vase would break.
Butterflies loom over her head.
Watching her grow was the most important thing
Second hand timepiece is not the word for thee.
You take your roost above like a member of family.
Delicate imagery on the canvas of eternity.
You give us a reminder of the promised
impending, of the juicy Dawn.
Soft is your glow as you bode our time.
Lightbeam Morse code, "it won't be long".
"Get lost in my gaze child, as I shine you mirrored upon
O
Moon you have a quiet sort of style.
Benefactor in the Night's dark isle,
your dark- bending is spot on.
Your sourcery is love and wrought from.
You pull at the Tides like it was a cloak, pulled tight.
At our imagination, like attention stood still, upright.
I see how you reflect the Sun.
Like the Christ doth His Father.
You are our own. We should want none other.
You are a sentinel in silent vigil.
You are priceless adornment skillfully placed upon
the firmament like a gem on a head-dress.
You are a smile received in the darkness.
A while- perceived as hope by our consciousness.
M O. O N
Inspired by following quote :"Broken vows are like broken mirrors. They leave those who held to them bleeding and staring at fractured images of themselves." — Richard Paul Evans
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Vows that`re broken, is trust lost to time
Like a fractured mirror with jagged lines
That reflects shattered images quite deep,
Secrets that the fragments can barely keep.
The shards cast a warped and distorted view,
Each splintered piece, a pining painful hue,
Of what we wrongly thought would surely be,
A trenchant testament to what's set free.
A hopeful gaze now turned to pricking pain,
The joy we envisaged now drips like rain,
A future wrecked with a wet misty veil,
Leaving behind a tiresome tasteless trail.
We try to piece the mirror back with care
But oft and anon it leads us nowhere,
The damage dealt too tall, torn far apart,
With hopeless haggard hands and hurling heart,
The sharp sarcastic edges still remain,
A woeful whisper of the old refrain,
A reminder of long lingering lies,
Beneath a cold and shady shrouded sky.
The reflection now shows a fractured soul,
Beyond our access, beyond our control,
A tapestry of what wholly went wrong,
Where sad sanguine shadows sorely stretch long.
The outer beauty gone, the wholeness fled,
The rosy dreams we nurtured, now lie dead
With cherished vows broken by careless words,
Like apples slashed with the edge of sharp swords.
With all efforts to join the pieces near,
The void remains, a tearful doubt and fear,
Though we try hard to hide the broken scene,
Memories linger of what might have been.
Broken vows, like broken mirrors wreck trust,
Reduced to ashes, turned to dirt and dust,
Two fates once entwined, now a sombre art,
Two fractured spirits bleeding, torn apart.
Vigilance is the price of freedom
Seen, are the caskets home comings
We don’t want any more forever wars
It’s always been the black gold, we fight for
Illegal catastrophic war, worth billions
Our dad’s fought fascists, with their lives they paid,
offerings of service to the millions
A system we can trust is all we want,
this tactical gambit smoldering, far from it
Even as the heartless with their hatred,
face to face, they try tirelessly to provoke us,
yet with grace, we stand tall with heads held high
They are the a g g r e s s o r s
with a need in their bitter-battered hearts,
where their pain inside resides
For them it’s too late, it's too late!
For them change will never come
And although they are enabled,
by the few, the mean-spirited labeled,
it’s how they shall remain
And we protest peacefully regardless
Their youthful ones are young not wordless,
their great-grand-and-dads fought against
what these cruel men now represent…
The man who sold the world,
The King of clowns absurd
A trickster trumpets his hellish horn
A thorn subsides aside in world’s forlorn
Nationwide, in the thousands,’
from up north, down south, east and west
Los Angeles, we all know it best!
New York City, Boston,
all the way to Mar-A-Largo!
We come from everywhere,
and to all beats and tempos
our soulful hearts filled, when we go,
All generations generate sounds of protest
most festive, with signs of sorrow and spoken words
Shout-outs mellifluous,
in harmony we sing-along
Voices alike, we’re birds of a feather,
and we beat our drums together
And how kind of them to show,
to say how out-of-touch is The Prez
Bruce, Billy Porter, Jane and
J o a n B a e z
Against his mad minded, agenda
we’ll find a way,
This new world order
out the window and to the border
A culture war, windstorm
Colors combined—humans sway
catching the wave,
in the center of it all
I m m i g r a n t s,
we came out for them,
and their children, and for ourselves
We carry the American flag,
others carry flags of their motherlands,
A reminder of where we come from
We want to take it back,
it’s ours and not for ruthless racists
Vigilance is the price of freedom,
and courage is infectious
NO KINGS DAY 3rd Protest
3/28/26
Some mornings,
memory returns the way sunlight used to~
slow, golden, unhurried,
slipping through venetian blinds
of a house that always smelled
of black coffee and Mother’s cooking.
I remember the stillness of those early hours,
the way the world felt half-awake,
as if holding its breath before noon crept in.
I recall bare feet on linoleum,
the screen door closing with a gentle click,
the kitchen radio playing rock n’ roll,
its tunes lingering in my memory.
There were gravel roads that knew my name,
porch steps warmed by summer sun,
and sky so wide it felt like a forever promise.
Back then, time moved like a small stream~
steady, certain,
carrying us forward without our noticing
how far we’d drifted.
Now, when memory rises,
it brings the same quiet comfort
as a familiar hymn sung softly~
a reminder that the past never truly leaves.
It lingers,
warm as a hand on my shoulder,
gentle as Mother’s voice calling me home.
What is it about bubbles…not only do they make us feel good…
but they have a way of instantly transporting us…back to our childhood.
I wonder…as we watch bubbles…soaring high up to the sky
if it’s possible to be angry when a bubble passes by.
One of the things I love about the mountains…about life in general, as we ascend…is all the wonders…all the surprises waiting around every bend.
We had been at the cabin for a while when as a new day before us dawned…Deborah came running out of the bedroom…she’d found a bubble wand.
The wand was filled with bubble solution…it hadn’t yet run dry
when Deborah pulled it out and said…let’s give these bubble a try.
As we watched perfect bubbles forming and floating all about
immediately our hearts opened up…and let our children out.
We lost all track of time…the two of us…standing there…
Watching bubble after bubble dancing in the air.
Watching some soar up to the sky…trying to catch the ones that dropped…
laughing…just like children when certain bubbles popped.
Playing with the bubbles as they surrounded us was a wonderful endeavor
while at the same serving as a reminder how nothing lasts forever.
Another way of reminding us…as countless bubbles passed
to enjoy each moment knowing…the moment will not last.
Reminding us as we grow older..to take the time play and scream and shout…
and even when there are no bubbles…to let our children out.
Warm balmy breeze..
Coconuts and lovely Palm Trees..
Glistening sunshine
So yellow and bright
A lemon sky..
Oh my..
What a surprise..
Sipping a crisp cool Margarita..
Captivated by paradise island
Strolling along sandy beaches
Fun filled and dandy..
A dream vacation..
A stream of heaven on earth..
A place to hold dear to your heart..
From the start..
Singing seagulls..
Ringing in my ears..
A reminder of being at sea..
The sun sets gracefully
The sky is orange..
Night is still
With a slight chill..
At sunrise..
Caught a glimpse of the sun..
A ton of brilliance..
A lemon sky..
Oh my..
With a sigh..
A new day had just begun
Swept away on paradise island
Lemon skies and orange sunsets..
Where heaven on earth exits..
Stripped of dignity
A refusal of warmth
Forced palatability
A black woman's life
A spectacle to society
Our pain Comedy
Silence our only company
In a world that chooses to ignore
Our words speak with wisdom
They choose to echo
Educated and intellectual
Our voices heed with warning
Our weakness our instinct to nurture
Despite their instinct to murder
We want the world to progress
Yet their hate prevents them to listen
Their prejudice leads to regression
A painful reminder that we don't matter
Even if we are right, even if we are being helpful
Our tendency to water until It overflows
Pouring our all until we have no more
We are the givers of life
The beginning of it all
But when we call for help
We are left all alone
The burdens of life
Fall onto our shoulders
The world's problems
Left for us to solve
You claim we are to blame that we are the cause
Used us to clean messes that were never ours just yours
Our life hard
Our spirits strong
But don't mistake strength
With a lack of emotions
We are forced into this life left with no choice
But you already know this because you don't even see us as human
Just something to control and make palatable
Unless your black and a woman
You dont get a say on our struggles
We dont need you to dictate our emotions
Just listen when we call
Don't throw stereotypes around not knowing the damage it can cause
We are not superhuman
We can't do it all
We are not your mother's
Or even disposable
We are not objects to be used then to be stored
We are the blueprint, we are unforgettable
We have hung up our capes and we are not your heroes
We will not be a mattress to catch you when you fall
You can't eat your cake and still have it all
Your ignorance is not welcome here to abuse no more