Long Reopening Poems
Long Reopening Poems. Below are the most popular long Reopening by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reopening poems by poem length and keyword.
Inviting vibrancy as the season changed
Smiley faces bloomed, reopening dreams.
Seeing you there marked a blessed event
Akin to magical when first time eyes met.
Breezing trees heard the whispers of leaves
Flirting with patterns of shadowy sketches,
There you unfolded what love could mean
Planting bold dreams in affectionate kisses
Floating on air in the lilting summer winds.
Blazing colors inspired falling ocher scenery
Dazzling in hues of resplendent paintings
As we wrote music in autumn's reverie:
A seductive beginning of romantic ending
Composed in themes of passionate lyrics.
Mountain tops donned snow-white crowns
Satiating fantasies in pristine landscapes,
Culminating desires into sensual escapes
As the last goodbye lent your heart to me
Ending your visit and our idyllic love story.
Your beat I hear still, but it lost its melody.
V.
Besides a rushing stream he saw a stone hut,
framed by aspens clinging to a rough slope,
the chimney was stained from long years of use,
But who lived out here? He just didn’t’ know.
Until his eyes happened upon two graves,
one had weathered, the other was fresh cut.
Who could they know who was buried out here?
Curious, he dismounted and walked up.
The older gave said: ‘Here lies Joseph Fields,
1851 to 1912,
Father, and Husband to his dear Rennie.’
The priest stumbled back. “Wha-what does this mean?”
The oldest daughter, who was named Isabel,
said,”She knew the townsfolk would not understand.
That’s why she used to ride back in her youth,
she combed the mountains, seeking out this man.
“She knew our grandpa had done the man wrong,
that a normal life he never would live.
She brought him money so he’d stop thieving,
and it return, his whole heart he did give.
“When our grandpa died they both realized
that without hm none could prove pa was framed,
they both dreamed of reopening his case,
but knew that doing so would be in vain.
“He visited us at night, when he was able,
and we rode out here to his backwoods hut.
We’re not bastards, Father Cobb married them,
you can at least tell the people that much.
“Six years ago, when our father passed on,
she came out here to give her man a grave.
She made it clear to us, when her time came,
we were to ride out here and do the same.
“We could not speak of this when she still lived,
to do so would have been their undoing,
a millionaire heiress weds an outlaw…
You understand this this would have brought ruin.
“But now their troubles are finally done,
and they can be here, at each other’s sides.
I hope you can spare a few prayers for them,
forced to be apart for so much of their lives.”
The priest was amazed, but slowly nodded,
said, “We thought worse of her than she deserved.
I ask forgiveness, I thought so myself.”
Then he knelt low and whispered holy words.
Later than night, when their mom was at rest,
they all rode away as the sun went low,
past a grave that read: ‘Here lies Rennie Fields,
Forever besides her beloved Joe.’
but this government MANDATE
from Harris County is unnecessary,
unconstitutional, and unAmerican.
It’s an unprecedented overreach
which looks more like a communist dictatorship
than a free Republic.
And here in Texas
We believe
That people have to make
Their own decisions
What’s that?
Drunk driving should be okay?
Driving without seat belts
Or insurance should be okay?
What is wrong with you people
Requiring people to wear a mask
Is not the same thing at all
It is communism socialism fascism
Liberalism nanny state run amok
And we will not stand by it
At this point,
I see it as nothing more than politics.
Governor Abbott announces a trajectory
to start reopening Texas and Harris County,
which never even utilized its $60 MILLION
pop up hospital at NRG, I
mplements a mandate
for face masks on 4 million people.
The other counties to do it are Dallas, Bexar, and Travis.
These are the 3 most liberal counties in the state of Texas.
Coincidence?
I don’t think so.
They are all filled with godless liberals,
Gays and anti-Christians and democrats
Who hate America
And hate TEXAS
I believe we’ve seen
the worst of this war.
What?
There has been a record breaking
Increase in covid cases?
Just more fake news
Everything is fine
Here is Texas
Cough cough cough
And we’re closer to victory
than we’ve ever been.
Let’s keep doing our part
to be conscious of others
when we’re out
and make sure to hold
government accountable, always
But don’t wear a mask
If you do
We will pull you over
Because you are probably
A criminal type
Wearing a mask
To protect yourself
From the non-existent
China flu
And we don’t want your kind
Living and polluting
Our great Texas state
Cough cough cough
You have to ask your self
Are you tired of living in a dictatorship yet?
This is what happens when people go crazy
and get tested.
Mother Blue
The blue hour stretches over decades, an old wound reopening,
an endless war between the night and the day that slowly dies,
the day falls defeated, knees sinking into evening's ashes,
breathing its last breath, cold as air from a hollow cave.
Sapphire slips through windowpanes like a liquid tear,
like the dying light in the theater of a gentle play,
like a mother tucking her child beneath the evening's sheet,
whispering from the doorway that it was enough, that I'm still holding on.
Ocean blue, the fearful color of my own regret,
did I live this day the way I was meant to live it?
the question grows inside me with every strike of the clock,
and the birds announce the dusk, sharpening their voices toward the moon,
to tell it how I lost the day again, letting it slip away,
and Mother Blue grows quietly sad, hidden behind heavy clouds.
Mother Blue, scold me for my laziness, for the wasted hours,
show me how quickly the day fades, how fast the time runs out,
you, who raised me since I first made out the first color,
but don't remind me of the ones I'd rather forget for good,
don't drag your cold fingers across my tear-soaked cheek,
don't wake what must go on sleeping in the depths of me.
And as you stretch over decades more, like smoke without a shape,
I hope you'll be more proud than disappointed, Mother Blue,
I hope to wait for you not with fear, but with an open heart,
I hope your hour will come gently, like a blessing.
Natural sensory matter
organizes spiritual deep desires
metaphorically co-infested
co-invested
co-arising healthy space
wealth of timeless time
mindfully
playfully polynomial
Positives
more than equal not pathologies
naturally outside
remains not not spiritual inside
poly-estatic
panentheistic
polynomials
not not polycultural wisdom
polyphonically polypathic
LeftBrain thought
is an internally perceiving sense
Like right-brain implicit spiritual feelings
for deep inside win/win healing
not win/lose hurting
and not-not lose/lose
Yang hurting v healing Yintegrity,
colonizing v creolizing,
conquering v liberating,
controlling v freeing,
YangStrength v YinFlow,
hierarchical monocultural bandwidth
resisting integral polycultural depth
ReOpening
CoPassionate sunlight evolution
and green/blue Earth revolution
TransPartisan
EnLightenment and EmPowerment
wu-wei indigenous wisdom
Of natural sensory matter
re-organicizing spiritual deep desires
metaphonically co-infested
co-invested organic systems
co-arising healthy space
wealth of timeless time
mindfully
playfully polynomial
not not polypathically health humored
self/other optimizing wealth
of cosmically blissful laughter.
Gray skies gather where once the sun would rise,
and I still see your shadow in the falling leaves.
The trees bend low, as if they too remember
the warmth of your laughter before the wind grew cold.
I reach for you in the empty air,
but only silence answers back.
Once, the world bloomed in colors of your name,
each petal carrying the promise of forever.
Now the garden is withered,
frost biting at the edges where roses used to thrive.
I wander through it, lost,
like a pilgrim searching for a shrine that no longer stands.
Over and over the seasons have turned,
yet still I wait for the echo of your step.
The rivers freeze, but my longing flows on,
aching beneath the ice of this endless winter.
Even the stars seem dimmer,
as though the heavens mourn with me.
Days stretch thin, empty as bare branches,
their silence heavier than snow.
I count the hours not in light but in absence,
marking time by the spaces you no longer fill.
Every dawn feels like a wound reopening,
every dusk a reminder that you will not return.
Beneath the sorrow, love still lingers...
fragile as a last leaf trembling in November winds.
It clings, though it knows it will fall,
drifting into the darkness where you have gone.
I hold it anyway, though it cuts me,
for letting go feels like losing you twice.
Yesterday is the only fire I have left,
and I burn my hands trying to keep it alive.
I whisper your name into the night,
but the wind scatters it across empty fields.
Still, I cannot stop calling...
even if the silence is all that answers.
Evermore, I will carry you in my winter,
like a secret flame hidden beneath the snow.
Though the world may forget,
I will remember the spring we once were,
and in the quietest hours,
my heart will ache its soft, eternal goodbye.
Fractured Pulse
I am the storm that swallows its own thunder—
a heart wired to detonate at the first hint of goodbye.
One text left unread and the floor drops out;
I am falling through the black glass of my ribs,
shards slicing every breath into razor prayers:
*Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave.*
Yesterday I was sunlight pouring into your hands.
Today I am the knife that carved your name into my thigh
just to feel something warmer than this endless hollow.
The mirror lies again—my face is a stranger’s mask,
pretty, then monstrous, then nothing at all.
I do not know who I am when no one is watching.
Love arrives like gasoline on a match.
I drink it until I choke, then spit fire at the hand that fed me.
Words leave my mouth like broken bottles—
“I hate you” and “I would die for you” in the same scream.
Bridges I built with bleeding fingers burn in minutes.
I stand in the ash and beg the smoke to forgive me.
Emptiness is not quiet.
It is a wolf gnawing the marrow from my bones,
a scream trapped behind my teeth that never quite escapes.
I chase numbness with anything sharp, fast, loud—
pills, blades, strangers, speed—
anything to prove I still exist inside this skin.
Night after night the same war:
I cling until my nails draw blood,
then shove you away so hard the doorframe cracks.
I wait for you to prove I was right—
that everyone eventually walks out.
When you stay, the terror only grows louder:
*How long until you see the real me and run?*
I am exhaustion wearing a smile.
I am rage wearing apology.
I am a girl-shaped wound that keeps reopening
no matter how many stitches I sew with trembling hands.
And still—
in the brief, merciless seconds between hurricanes—
I remember what it felt like to be held without flinching.
I remember wanting to believe I could be loved
without first proving I deserve to burn.
But the storm is rising again.
Listen—
you can hear it in my pulse:
*Don’t leave. Don’t leave.*
I am already gone.
Emotions are mixed, while sanity is lost.
You get to intake all the luxury while I struggle with the cost.
Oh the risks I would have taken to see us pull through,
The sacrifices I made just to try and be with you.
But you fled without a word and without an explanation.
And as much as I hate the distance, I want to avoid confrontation.
So I sit in silence while my thoughts consume me,
Trying to neglect the overflow of sorrow that lies within me.
Times like these is when the distress likes to seep through,
Reopening wounds, leaving me unsure of what to do.
So I smile it out, distracting myself & fooling the others.
I shall attempt to walk with my head held high, as this gloomy cloud continues to hover.
During the day I don’t think much about ghosts…perhaps by the sun I’m blinded…
but in the quiet ebony of the evening…I’m a little more open minded.
I awoke in the middle of the night…(when you’re older you’ll understand)
and was immediately taken aback… when my eyes…the front room scanned.
The room was supposed to be empty…but I was suddenly aware
shrouded in a hazy glow…Deborah’s mom…sitting in the rocking chair.
I’m not sure if she noticed me…in the early morning…long before the dawn
but after closing my eyes and reopening them…Deborah’s mom was gone.
Instantly I doubted myself…
Was it as real as it seemed?
Did I see Deborah’s mom sitting there…or was it just a dream?
I’m pretty sure I saw her…
which made me wonder once she was out of sight…
if Deborah’s mom doesn’t often come to visit her old cabin in the night.
Does she seek out the peace and comfort of that old rocking chair…
to revisit her old memories and feel the love still floating in the air?
Does she sit in the same chair Deborah sits in…to be reminded her how our lives are intertwined…does she smile as she remembers all the memories she left behind?
I like to think I saw her, if only for a moment, sitting in that chair…
but if it wasn’t her…if it was just a dream…I truly do not care….
Because if she was a dream or if I saw her…coming down from heaven for a rest…
Either way…I doesn’t matter…either way…I feel blessed.
Still I asked myself…was it a dream…but any doubt I’m now removing…
If it was a dream then why…
long after she seemed gone
was that rocking chair still moving?
Silent rose, adrift on the morning's breeze,
In my misty, pale garden, she sails free,
Her scents drive my nose to sneeze,
Paradox of quietude and vibrancy.
Her whispers like bells, sweet and clear,
Over bridges of time, a longing swells,
Stretching my ears, can't help but hear,
Symphony of emotions, she compels.
Deafening silence, harsh and tense,
Overwhelms me with its weight,
Strips smiles from defenseless stars,
Left me hurt, groaning in its gait.
Her silence, piercing deep and through,
Reopening scars, long-thought healed,
Drawing tears I can't subdue,
Punitive notions bleed.
Creeping, crackling through the closed door—
Into chambers of my guarded heart,
Unmindful of vengeance, it seeks no more,
Ever since her wakeful start.
Bottomless depth, the silence of the rose,
Lulls my soul to faint within its hold,
In this cradle of peace, where hearts repose,
Alone, feeling safe and bold.