Long Reply Poems
Long Reply Poems. Below are the most popular long Reply by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reply poems by poem length and keyword.
Such is this world we live in
innocence is removed so young
such a sad thing to see
in our day this wouldn't be among
Among us of few generations past
uncontaminated would be our state
our innocence kept intact to stay
at least till our teenage date
But today innocence is gone so early
it's never to return not again seen
youngsters know so much at young age
it seems already they have been
At times you want to turn clock back
at a time uncontaminated by this age
when things were simple and contented
then your life journey is at it's first page
But alas this can't be done
as the world moves so fast
we're caught up in its trap
indeed our die is cast
(''For he hears the lamb's innocent call
And he hears the ewe's tender reply'')
WILLIAM BLAKE
So unappreciated, abandoned and unglossy
you seem among other ordinary chairs
with a less classical and unadorned design, perhaps
in the famous style of Queen Ann...
but silence can't reveal much, distrustful and sad friend;
then...start to talk about your history!
How many solitary and unhappy folks
have relaxed in comfort while they lay into it gently,
fearing to make those feeble legs crack;
and being one of them I must apply
the minimal tension deriving from these manly arms that
allow the blood to flow from my elbows.
I'm waiting for a reply to ignite this imagination,
but your stubbornness grows much impatience
in me, to force you to speak with me and clarify my confusion;
if this small house, so vibrant with sunlight, isn't your favorite place,
would you mind telling me where you would rather be...
possibly in the halls of a medieval castle, where you'll hide in obscurity?
Don't wallow in bitterness, begin talking to me;
what will benefit you to hide yourself under the cloak of mystery?
Not telling anyone of the greatness you've seen,
not feeling the touch of human hands...letting in the sun's sheen?
I'm very curious of how they treated you within those thick and dark walls,
have they ever protected you from the invaders blistering cannon's rounds?
Before I stand up and desert you with disappointment,
I should honor you with an ampler and kinder compliment:
you've never attempted to stop me from dreaming,
from seeing, through my fantasy, all the places you have been;
and now won't you talk to me and finally unfold that secret without hesitating,
because silence can't reveal much...when misery won't allow you to speak!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Don’t worry about failure, let it pass like rain,
Each stumble you carry is not lived in vain.
Every “almost” and “not yet” you quietly endure
Is shaping the moment when your aim lands sure.
The road may be heavy, your steps may feel slow,
But roots grow in darkness before flowers show.
A thousand wrong turns do not lessen your worth
They’re echoes of learning, the rhythm of earth.
Let doubt knock your door, let it speak, let it try,
You don’t owe it victory, only a reply.
For hope isn’t loud, and success isn’t loud
It rises in silence, unshaken, unbowed.
So breathe through the nights when belief feels thin,
When the world says “no” but you whisper “begin.”
For fate doesn’t count how many times you fall
It waits for the moment you rise once, that’s all.
When math class starts, stress will rise,
"I’m no good at math" glows up in our head,
You see rising panic form in our eyes,
Inner chat takes over instead.
But you take the "not now, not never", self-talk—
The labels we use when we're lost—
And show us how to pause, take a walk,
Where "failure's" a bridge to be crossed.
You guide us through the work on the board,
These mistakes are how we can learn.
A growth-filled room of learning to think,
Worry dies as good thoughts return
It was never about the X or the Y,
But how we speak to our thoughts at our desk;
You teach our minds a healthy reply,
Make our problems seem like a quest.
Life is like a gentle sigh
Breathing out a heartening reply
Coloring the thoughts in laughing gold
Silencing worries and struggles so untold
Whispering peace into the heart and soul
Lighting up the spirit so it’s alive and whole
Easing the broken heart with warm hope
That comforts the solemn, helping them cope
Breaking through the worry and pain
Soothing the heart who knows the rain
Life isn’t about who will always win the race
It’s about who will love with kindness and grace
Inspired by Jo Daniel’s poem, Life is not – which I dearly loved
My Religious Studies School Class
At the back of the class on the seat of a wooden writing desk
Like a thinner version of Billy Bunter, ink blots and all.
Ensconced with both eyes open, listening, but body drifting
This was Religious Studies in the old school attic classroom.
My name is Michael, the boys call me "Michael Smichael".
In my daydream, I am the Archangel Michael on my throne
Seated to the right of the Almighty whose holy voice booms,
"Archangel Michael, all is not well in the Earthly World".
I turned to my left to reply, when I was struck by a piece of chalk.
"Michael", says the Very Reverend Welch David Davis
"Repeat my last sentence". I reply "All is not well in the Earthly World".
Says the very Reverend Welch David Davis, "And why is that Michael?".
"Too much day dreaming, instead of paying attention", says I.
The other boys chorus, "Michael Smichael gets yet another detention".
"Report to the 'Sergeant at Arms' after school for one hour",
Booms the Very Reverend Welch David Davis.
A warrior I say he was. No self-pity, sorrow, or regret. Few complaints if any; no quit. In illness, his reach yet prevailed. Duty called, to serve was his command.
A warrior I say he was. One attack after another upon his body. Several years before his demise, I was amazed when he revealed to me, "Four strokes I've had", he said to me.
A warrior I say he was. He clearly demanded every moment of time. Precious moments, none to waste, opened eyes. I held his hand,
rubbed his head and said, "I love you". He simply lay there
listening without a sound in reply.
A warrior I say he was. I sat with a friend at his dying bedside. There was no pain, just comfort, and love. For a while, he simply refused to close his eyes. Those same eyes that spotted me 25 years ago. I felt his heart, and he seemed so calm and serene. That same heart had reached out to me 25 years ago.
07132018cjPSFB Written and inspired by the life of a friend.
I Wish to be one with Nature
I wish I were potable water alms
I could freeze in your charms
I would melt in your arms
I could flow in your palms
I wish I were a humming bird
I could flee to you ahead
I would reach your hold
I could be with you getting mould
I wish I were rain
I could reach you like a chain
I would make me sustain
I could have my love retain
I wish I were a honeybee
I could collect honey I agree
I would save my love for thee
I could feel this as honeycomb key
I wish I were a butterfly
I could fly over you in sky
I would flutter at you as I fly
I could become one with you in reply
- C L Sivaranjani
He loved me first
Followed wherever I went
Helped me in all ways
Hiding his identity
When I broke down
He came asking
If everything was okay
When I felt happy
He longed to join me
When I was in need
He gave everything
He was overjoyed
Seeing me smile
Wondered I who he is
Why would he do all this?
I loved all he did for me
Yet not so interested in him
I knew him not
Nobody knew him either
Why didn’t I quite like him?
I know not but he’s good
When I asked what he wanted
Most loving smile was his reply
He didn’t speak more
Never introduced him
Nor induced himself
He was quiet and very loving
When it was time to know each other
Came he with joy and expectation
That I would fall in love
But still distant felt I
Adamantly renounced
After everything he gave me,
I presented a crown
As my gift in return
Even I placed it on his head
Acclaimed he looked a king
He accepted it with a smile
Gently gazing upon me
Not minding the blood
Shedding around his head
Caused by the thorns of the crown
He looked through my eyes
With so much love
Which broke me into pieces
And said “I love you” smiling!!!
Why is it when you go out of your way
To help someone brighten their day
Or solve a problem that has things in disarray
They want to play you as if to say
You owe them in some superficial way
Putting on some kind of poor me display
Overshadowing the kindness you portray
Some are not able to see the good deed
That some people give so freely
They do it because they are able to see
What a difference this would be
For them to help make your day stay in play
Some people lack the ability to foresee
People go out of their way, not for praise
Or to be a standout who wants you to obey
Not to create a cushion for some far off distant day
We do it because we care
When we see someone in dispare
Or life seems to be unfair
When someone is down on their luck
Because everything has run a muck
Feeling like lightning has struck
Then being able to help someone become unstuck
It's just good karma that is our choice to send their way
It doesn't require money
Or a promise you will make it right someday
It simply requires a sincere thank you
A genuine reply without asking why
Understanding that everyone
Has not just left you standing
When your day became way to demanding
Knowing someone went out of their way
To keep your day underway
It's not how we repay the kindness
But rather how we display
All the goodwill that came into play
To help make it through your day