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.
Woke up jumped off the couch and
put on a mask
Used in order to survive another average day
Sat on the stairs lit up and smoked
enough to blow a mind and descend
into a heady hazy trance
Oh boy John said to Paul
I just watching the news today
Witnessed both a declaration and a
timely reminder to the everyman
To in no uncertain terms know thy station
know thy place
Within the unwritten small print of the law
Opening Gambit Pincer movement
King Trump's pawn
Check mate
The rich will never see the inside of a court
Otherwise what is the point of being powerful
and wealthy
If it can not pervert the rule of law
The judge and jury have long already
been picked and bought
Why call him Andy
Why not Scott
At very least that rhymes with free
And at a mere cost of 12 Million pieces of
slippery mercury worthless currency
Adorned with his sad tragic mother's face
and royal family crest all across
Matter's not of that I am sure to him he
obviously has a lot and won't go or be left
without
It's no more than tangible proof of yet
another breach of public trust
I only rather wish it was not just another
mistaken reported case of fake news
than simply just another example of
A day in the life
Of the opposing lives of what both
the rich and everyman have to deal with
And the glaringly senseless point of counting
potholes whatsoever however small or
insignificant they appear in the
1st place
If there is absolutely never any desire
or intention of ever actually trying to fix
or repairing them at all
Or is that in actual fact indeed the
case and point being mistakenly overlooked
Far more joy and fun is to be garnished
from rubbing people's noses in and seeing
the look upon disheartened faces
When the final edict and not guilty
verdict is read out in astonishment
Tapestry of Life**
In the intricate tapestry of life, vibrant memories weave their threads, each one shimmering with its own hue. The echoes of past workplaces linger like faint, nostalgic perfume, evoking a bittersweet blend of longing and relief. Seacrest, with its relentless morning shifts and haunting graveyard hours, etched an indelible mark on my soul—a complicated cocktail of disdain and wistful nostalgia. The stench of those long hours, both literal and metaphorical, clings stubbornly to the corridors of my memory like an unwelcome ghost.
Retirement feels like stepping away from a chaotic dance into a tranquil oasis, a serene pond that promises solace after years of turmoil. But as I bask in this newfound peace, self-reflection creeps in uninvited, urging me to take stock of the years lost in an institution where the pursuit of money overshadowed the pursuit of passion. What good remains from that chapter? The ledger of my life seems eerily blank, with joy elusively out of reach.
At sixty, my sanity becomes both a prayer and a quest. A few screws might be loose, but it has yet to shake the foundation of my understanding in a world that often feels absurd. Kindness flows within me, a gentle current that softens the harsh edges of life, yet I am acutely aware that this vulnerability can be both a strength and a weakness in a world that often thrives on sharpness and sting.
And you, a familiar presence, serve as a gentle reminder: “This path, tread cautiously.” In my next life, I envision myself as a poet—a genuine artisan of words, successful and unwavering. A master tinker skillfully weaving language into magical creations that inspire and enlighten. A philosopher delving into the depths of existence, unraveling the mysteries that surround us.
But for now, I embody Annie—the devoted content creator, the nurturing mother, the steadfast friend. And perhaps, in this role, I find that it is enough.
There is power in His word
A power beyond comprehension
He strengthens hearts
And blesses souls with His fortifications
He reinforces armies
Those who know His grace
He increases the very angels
With His kindness and mercy
He is far better than we can say
He is a God that brings salvation
And gives our dreams a second chance
With His abiding love and presence
There is power in His love
A power felt by our hearts and souls
His love shines brighter than the moon and stars
Reflects more hope than even the sun
Fills my thoughts with everything good
Reminds the wise that they’re understood
Because He is wisdom beyond our perception
He is grace that provides a way for salvation
He is thanks that breathes light across the spirit
He is the One who died and was resurrected
Filling up the heart with a faith that is alive
A kindness that will survive and a praise
That colors all the world in inspiration and love
There is power in His Son
The One who came to bring us hope
And faith that is a living word
From the light of God’s one and only Son
Love that lives beyond the feeling
It is a second chance, the way, the truth
The life that is indwelling… deep within
Where we can worship Him again and again
For all the joy that He brings with Him
When He enters a heart and fills up a soul
With His Holy Spirit… His gentle love
The Hope for a heaven that will come
Because He gave up His life, was the sacrifice
For the sin that taunts and haunts
Reminds us all that we’re so unworthy
Of the One who calls us His children
The One who saves us and amazes us
With His gift of peace, love and unspeakable joy
The assurance that He is all we’ll ever need
If we simply accept Him and always believe
He is the One who came into this world
To free our souls and give us a second chance
To become the children of God
Share the place at His side
Where we’ll always reside – alive
Because He has come into this world
And survived all that we’ve done
Even death on a cross – three days in the grave
And then the resurrection, the reminder
That He is truly Love… from above!
I need a Fayvor.
Do not ask how much deeper
I am willing to fall,
Or how long I waited
For a connection like this.
She is the host,
And I am connected to her server.
Ask me no open-ended questions,
Like how long this love will endure.
The gap between us demands a solution.
I promised to swim oceans just to see her,
But this feels like the North and South Poles apart.
I see her eyes in the blue oceans,
I feel her touch in the morning sunrays,
And find her smile painted across the sunset.
The calendar devours each passing day,
A reminder of every moment without her near.
Now I stare at the moon and stars—
So close, yet out of reach.
Much like this feeling
I hold so tightly,
Believing that soon
I'll meet my dearest.
After all,
We are not mountains.
When that day comes,
I will hold her close to my life,
Tightly enough to squeeze the calendar
Until a minute feels like a year.
Then I'll close my eyes
And relive every dream I ever dreamed of her.
The image staring back is me
A look that was once not free
The pain buried behind the burning eyes
To this day silent cries
History displayed across my face
A person needing a warm embrace
Each wrinkles tells a different story
An action and mental inventory
Each grey hair that appears
Has come with hurt and tears
The hair line slowly moving back
A constant reminder too unpack
The tiredness showing under the eyes
The memories of being told what to despise
The freckles on my fair skin
Likened to her and him
A smile that doesn’t quite reach
Always told I was a leech
What looks back at me
Is not someone who is proud to be
What stares back in the reflection
Feels the full force of rejection
Someone who is hard to love
Thanks to those 2 who rest above
Damaged beyond repair
The past present and future of a spare
Play me a song, but not just any tune.
I'm not here to dance, or sing along in June.
I don't need rhythms that make my heart leap high,
Just give me notes that echo, and a melody that sighs.
Play me not a hopeful melody.
Hope is a promise dressed in disguise.
It soothes for a moment, then slips away,
Hurting more than it ever helps.
A whisper that fades, leaving you high and dry.
Sing me no song of fleeting joy.
Joy dances in, then fades just as quick.
A blissful moment meant to make us forget,
Then leave us with tears it failed to predict.
Do give me a song, but not for love.
Love is a myth wrapped in pain.
When it fades, only sorrow remains.
Happy memories now slipping away.
A wound that hums and sings along,
Trying to soothe where love went wrong.
I need a song that speaks to my soul,
A melancholy tune that makes me whole.
A song that paints my nostalgia, and brings back the past,
A reminder of what's lost, and what will forever last.
Play me a sad song, one that knows my name,
A song that understands the depths of my pain.
Not for hope, or joy, or love's sweet lie,
But to help me face the ever lasting truth.
The veil between the worlds grows thin,
A night for magic, ancient and grim,
When spirits wander, shadows grow bold,
And whispers of stories, ages old,
Echo through the rustling leaves,
As the harvest moon softly weaves.
Once, when the world was young and wild,
People honored the harvest, mild,
And thanked the earth for bounty's grace,
With offerings placed in a sacred space,
For spirits of the earth, to appease,
And ensure a future full of ease.
They dressed in costumes, masks of fright,
To scare away the spirits of night,
And ward off any malevolent spell,
With bonfires blazing, stories they tell,
Of heroes and legends, whispered low,
In the chill of the night, where shadows grow.
With time, the customs changed and grew,
The ancient rituals, fading from view,
But still, the spirit of Halloween remains,
A night of wonder, joy, and pains,
Where children gather, dressed in glee,
And carve pumpkins, bright and free.
Now, the holiday takes on a new form,
A night for laughter, in a playful storm,
Of candy and costumes, and tricks and treats,
A celebration that every heart meets,
With the echoes of ancient rituals, untold,
In the dance of shadows, stories unfold.
But deep within the heart of the night,
Beneath the moon's ethereal light,
The whispers of the ancient past remain,
A reminder of the magic, a timeless refrain,
Of spirits, and harvests, and the earth's embrace,
On this night of shadows, in time and space.
So let the laughter fill the air,
Let the costumes be a joyful snare,
For Halloween is a night to be bold,
A night of stories, yet to be told,
Where the veil is thin, and shadows dance free,
A celebration of the spirit, wild and free.
With a face full of anguish he walks a lonely street at night.
No room for tomorrow in his world. Today is just a fight.
Sadness stripped the bones clothes hang upon his frame
Heartache drips from his fingers
For this old soul in youth the road was laid
Fighting lonely battles from strangers came a sigh
Trees stood like soldiers leaves falling to the floor
The winds of change hung idle a cage without a door
Sinking sands of hope dreams never came today
Silhouette shadows from balloons that lost their air
Dreams left deflated why is life so unfair?
Peering through the windows of others perfect lives
Social media samples painted on the skies
Playgrounds left unnoticed. Graffiti staked its claim.
Etching potential clients their number and their name
Where are all the stars parachuting to their demise?
Dreams and silent wishes falling from the skies
Holding hands with shadows no one knows their names
Holes in patched up pockets didn't save the change
Snakes and not the ladders coins drip down the drain
Final reminder on the doorstep when the bill has not been paid
Hope the empty wrapper only himself to care
Choices are for others, like feathers on the air
Squeezing out the day cowering from the night
Less hope, more desperation, he lost the will to fight
Inspired by the ladybugs.
On Friday evening, the ladybugs came en masse to visit me. “Ladybug Loveliness” is the collective term.
Beyond this ladybug loveliness received
By Michelle Morris
21/03/2026
The ladybugs came to me
In the silence of the twilight
As the sun was setting
They beckoned the moon to shine
To shine as a reminder for my soul
To keep shining and help the world
That lighthouse effect that I bring
Creates safety for every human being
The ladybugs, they brought abundance
In that gloaming before the dark
To remind me that it's always there
That power in my soul's spark
The infinity of all that is good
Within the atoms and the sparkles
Starlight and stardust within us
Starlight and stardust in the galaxies and marvels
The ladybugs, the bearers of good news
Named for the Virgin Mary's blessings
A symbol for flock and farmers
A reality of gifts from nature's essence
The ladybugs came to me
Yes, they came to me
I am honoured and blessed
Beyond this ladybug loveliness received
©? Michelle Morris, 2026
Symbolism:
Christian Symbolism: Some believe that the red color of ladybugs symbolizes the blood of Christ, and the black spots represent his wounds. Thus, the name "ladybug" would be a way to honor the Virgin Mary.
Agricultural Symbolism: Another theory suggests that the name "ladybug" originated from farmers' observations that these insects could help protect their crops from aphids. As they were associated with the Virgin Mary, who was seen as the protector of farmers, they were given the name "ladybugs."
Superstition: In some cultures, ladybugs are considered to be lucky or protective charms. This may have led to the name "ladybug" becoming associated with these insects.
My long-time love gave me a special gift,
a photo of himself when he was young.
He even autographed it: “Love you! Dave.”
From then, upon my wall this treasure hung
where I could always gaze at it~~but then
his love, if it was love, began to die.
Who breaks up with someone he doesn’t hate
on Christmas Day? All I could do was cry.
I took the stark reminder of heartbreak
and laid it on a shelf in my spare room.
My wall now bears instead a lovely print
of red and yellow roses in full bloom.
From time to time, I think, when I am gone,
what will the kids do with my mass of things?
It’s then I start to throw some stuff away.
At times, a sense of loss, this cleansing brings.
I parted with some things in '23.
One gem I almost tossed, I’m glad to say,
I kept and put it to creative use.
It serves a unique purpose to this day.
My bedside table never sat quite right.
One leg is shorter than the other three.
Dave’s picture, folded twice, now fills that spot.
Successful reasoning gives me such glee!