Long Request Poems

Long Request Poems. Below are the most popular long Request by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Request poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Gift of Love

Regardless of our faith, in Love we can believe,
For Love's within us all, if we choose to retrieve.
Should we choose to leave Love in a dormant state,
Then we invite into our heart the bitterness of hate.

Those who believe in the power of Love,
Radiate and spread around all the beauty of.
Those who deny Love to flourish within their heart,
Spread misery around, since it's all they can impart.

We have all been blessed with the greatest Gift,
Though some choose to away from Love, drift.
The presence of Love or not is always crystal clear
In how we treat others; how others we revere.

Love is not selfish, cruel, apathetic, unforgiving;
Does not embrace greed or a miserable way of living.
Instead, Love is selfless, compassionate, and kind,
With consideration for others a natural state of mind.

Love is not ego serving, boastful and bragging;
Doesn't tune out a guilty conscience nagging.
Instead, Love is humble, modest, and reserved;
Accountable and accepting of what's deserved.

Love is not jealous, envious, resentful, or bitter;
Nor shallow, spineless, a flip-flopping fence sitter.
Instead, Love cultivates virtue, values, and integrity,
Making real in oneself a comfortable place to be.

When, our Gift Of Love, we cultivate with care,
We then reap to scatter Love seeds everywhere,
Always hoping they'll take root in another's garden bed,
Where there's being tilled the opposite of Love, instead.

When in our hearts we grow Love, we never have to feel
Afraid that another will come along and from us, steal
What we are growing and therefore, in possession of,
Because all they can take from us is some of our Love.

Once in the thief's possession, Love can only grow,
Infiltrate and change the current seeds they sow.
So, when we give the Gift Of Love and without request,
We can know in our heart we have given the very best.

In this day and age of money taking precedence,
Love is still free to receive and to dispense.
Love cannot be bought nor can Love be sold,
Making the Gift Of Love untouchable by gold.

We need not save our Love for special times and places,
Just for special occasions and to gladden special faces,
For the magic of Love is released every time we give
And multiplies within us when the Gift Of Love we LIVE!

Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2017-12-24 16:52:00 (EST)
All rights reserved.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Unlucky Jim , the End

Bank robber Jim was one unlucky bloke
Went to draw his gun but the holster broke
It dropped on the bank floor
And went off with a roar
The shock was too much and he had a stroke...

Though he was unconscious he hadn't died
Woke in a coffin for his final ride
In a desparate bid
Banged on the coffin lid
But all he could hear was laughing outside...

Written 17th June 2021

Then someone shouted can you hear banging
It was quite faint because folks were singing
The sheriff prised off the lid
And he was so glad he did
Because he thought we'll have us a hanging...

Jim didn't know whether to laugh or cry
Resigned himself to the fact that he'd die
Saw sheriff holding a rope
Realised there was no hope
And for unlucky Jim the end was nigh...

He was taken to the gallows in town
Handcuffed and wearing nothing but a frown
Jim was then starting to choke
But with the drop the rope broke
The crowd screamed as poor Jim came tumbling down..

Unlucky Jim jumped up quick as a flash
As he passed the bank ran in and grabbed cash
He stole the first horse he saw
Then let out a loud yee haw
And for sweet freedom he made a quick dash...

Written 19th June 2021


A bounty hunter called Nevada Slim
Went after bank robber Unlucky Jim
With tracker Spirit Bear
They discovered Jims lair
And Jim's future was now looking quite grim...

Slim called out "put your hands in the air"
Jim grabbed his gun,  Slim said "don't you dare"
But Jim was too fast
And let off a blast
Slim fell dead then Jim shot Spirit Bear...

Jim quickly packed his things and rode away
Thankful that he'd survived another day
He decided to lie low
But what old Jim didn't know
Was that Pinkertons were heading his way...

Jim was sleeping in the afternoon sun
And didnt hear the cocking of a gun
He woke up with dread
Saw guns at his head
And a lawman said "Jim looks like your done"...

Jim was handcuffed and they rode back to town
There to meet them was Sheriff and Judge Brown
The charges were read
Jim nodded his head
Sheriff said " this time Jim you're going down" ...

For Jims last request he asked for a smoke
And noticed the hangman had a new rope
He put a hood on Jims head
Jim dangled then he was dead
An escape this time!, there wasn't a hope...

Written 1st July  2021



RIP UNLUCKY JIM
Form: Limerick

Making It Great In 2008 (Part 18): the Legacy Lives On: Going To the Next Level By Passing the Baton

many of us are living lives of deficiency
not functioning at our full capacity
running on a tank that is half full
coasting in a life that's tired and dull
we make it through each week but only by a hair
TGIF, thank God Friday is now here
we're talented beings who have it going on
but none of that matters if we don't pass the baton
to move to the next level we need to realize
that all the gifts we get from God need to be maximized
to move to the next level take someone along
to making 2008 great by passing the baton

God has an anointing for each of us
God has an appointing for each of us
and despite what it is we think of ourselves
God is the medicine for our spiritual health
so fall down on your knees and to Him submit
going to the next level with a renewed spirit
all you have to do is give God all the praise
going to the next level elevated and now raised
living up to your full potential and no longer stalling
going to the next level by answering your calling
anointed, appointed now it's time for preparation
so let God guide you to your chosen destination
as all things work together for the good
for those whom love the Lord as they should
going to the next level by letting God use you
passing the baton and lighting someone else's fuse

the devil will give you hell so just hold on
as the army of God is on the horizon
the devil will attack your children and your heirs
just stay prayerful for God's Angels will appear
when the Philistines went out on a battle patrol
they were unaware that the new king was under God's control
down on his knees King David did pray
that God would give him the victory that day

the power of prayer is the manifest
that you trust God to answer your request
the power of prayer is more than happenstance
it's the belief that God will change your circumstance
to be placed by the Spirit in a position to stand and fight 
for what you believe in and what you know is right
to put on the full battle armor of God
to put your enemies on alert and on guard
donning the Helmet of Salvation and carrying the Shield of Faith
feet shod in the Gospel of Peace and wearing a Righteous Breastplate
to know that God has already claimed
the victory for you in Jesus' name
so continue making it great in 2008 as the legacy lives on
on the next level at your full potential while passing the baton

Venezuela Angel Part 2

II.
I dedicate this to my future wife 
In life we meet people when we least expect it, whether it be for a season or for more. Can it be love or lust? The answer is not known until both are placed into a situation to where they use their instinct to build the relationship. It is more confusing and takes work. Both parties will see the value in one another. When I first saw you, I did not know how to respond. You were wearing glasses and a neutral clam smile on your lips. Your buns were of modest size and your legs were nice in stance. Yes, I did fall in love with your body first. Later on, I would see more to you as you would be calm even when you were confused or focusing intently on your job. You did not speak; however, your words were in emotions and actions. Oh, how I wish I could kiss those emotions as they made me feel a warmth that no American girl could make me feel. I could not hear your words as I could only speak two languages; however, your language is of a different Latin branch. Still the kindness you showed to me was different. I never had a woman from a Latin country open the door for me, even when I had a cart on me. Your eyes are full of peace and joy. You have traveled far from a place that you loved; however, the tension going on down there has led you to come here. You mostly if not all speak Spanish. My one request is that we can speak more for I fancy the thought of learning about your life. Let the barrier break between us as I feel this magnetic surge towards you. You are a young woman that deserves to be happy, I only Hope that the person deserves your Heart for it is pure. If it is I, then I promise to make you smile and happy. All we can do is try. Does love to start blind or does it develop blindly. If we are the soulmates needing of one another then I ask God through my words for it to be so. Let my words through this prose shine as a beacon of light. May I say that I love your presence, and that I am beginning to love you. Every time you are near me, I linger longer and tend to take a longer glance at your presence. I feel a stir inside me to want to make you a wife and not just a coworker. I ask God if he could help us learn each other’s languages. Would it be great that if in two years we could say our vows in different languages. You are my Angel from Venezuela. Here’s a kiss to end the current night.
Form: Ballad

~ (~) ~ the Journey ~ (~) ~

~ (~) The journey towards home, yes quiet the tender longing, my soul, weary, inside inside-
out in between outside all about; 

given the struggle, attention... being and remaining always seemingly to be quiet-and quite 
the insidious, aspiration, perfection, whereas it would lie finally; 

it stands-for-me-to be-yet-incomplete... yet and still forever-transfixed; 

my peace, the simple fulfillment humble fruit, gentle blessing of this hope. (~) ~ 


~ (~) Such it is this journey for me, struggle... greatest-ambition... my joy full and 
overflowing in the day of its fruition. (~) ~


~ (~) Just like a diamond in the rough glistening-there-lying in the snowdrops; given the 
honest exclusions of my soul at-times covertly divided absent-growing-evermore-futile the 
original vision of it I feel now, request far more... ! (~) ~


~ (~) Love I believe forever providing abiding beside the truth telling overtly of this — 
conjured up all the remnants of fallacies-as-they-are I've-come-to-see will always try to keep 
the heart mind in complete denial — as grace is the only hope as well I believe delighting 
thriving there amid the-space-between... . (~) ~


~ (~) For all of us, mercy, these simple treasures are-what I pray do-remain, I mean imagine 
if it were the-day-that-they-wouldn't-care-to-be — oh I know yes the quiet-separation, perfect 
longing, confusion-within — oh-God yes Heaven-forbid... ! (~) ~


~ (~) I mean brogue-down beaten up-chartreuse black purple handed down to me my face... 
grappling-I'm not yet crippled my soul lay opened amenable amendable-willing-now-desiring 
only for this one-conviction the charity of-your Mercy... .. (~) ~


~ (~) Touched by this I was also though back in the day though nary I know the way it went 
my joy it left me in my hate... . (~) ~


~ (~) Consumed I became like an angry wind by someone something else, but I too believe 
as well and consider it today to be ultimately by the allowance of the merciful outstretched 
hand of God... .. duly abiding-by-His-word, in-Faith... .. (~) ~


~ (~) And so I offer this one exclamation to Him hoping for nothing greater or less than this 
result as I say for-another-time; "Okay God, you have my attention now, I am listening... !" 
(~) ~




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4wojcSO9Ww&feature=related
© James Long  Create an image from this poem.


The Soldier's Request

The soldier, he looked down at me
While I protested vociferously.
He seemed to be but twenty-five
An age that weathered eyes belied.
And as I turned to walk away,
I heard the soldier up and say:

“It seems that you don’t understand,
What it takes to protect this land.
The price we pay for what we do,
What we suffer for folks like you.
The cost of keeping people free
Is letting go of the fantasies.
The stories all you people tell,
Burn away in war’s fiery hell.
The illusions that most people hold,
They Sink away to depths untold.
To keep you safe we confront truth,
And force along the end of youth.
You chant and say ‘Let’s end all war,’
It’s understandable deplored.
But you never seem able to derive,
That the end of war is the end of life.
As long as folks can think on their own,
Conflict will exist, and war will be close.
To end it all, the cost would be
All trace of individuality.
A price too great for man to know,
Better the chance of trading blows,
Than giving up what is our essence.
It’s a bloody but important lesson.
And since the battle can never end,
You’ll always have need of warrior men,
To fight against chaotic tides,
To hold a line against the night.
And as for seeing an end to war,
Only dead folks will see no more.
We don’t as much for what we do,
In money I make less than you!
We ask no power, small or large,
We don’t demand to be in charge.
We don’t need swoons or genuflects,
We ask only that you show respect.
And though it makes bleeding hearts burn,
It’s a respect we’ve dearly earned.
By watching buddies die and scream,
By hearing them in haunted dreams,
By seeing our peace-time lives crimped
By missing limbs and nagging limps.
We just want you to understand
What such a life does to a man.
To keep peace for this country, wide
A piece of all of us must die.
And even if we survive steel rain,
What comes home will never be the same.
We do it ‘cause it must be done,
To those for fear no law but guns.
We stand up strong and take the blast,
So common folks, the rage will pass.
And had we not chosen this life
You’d all feel the weight of death-run-rife.”

And then the soldier walked on by,
I could not believe he’d bought the lies!
The fool, he probably stayed up late,
Thinking up new folks to hate!
If he’d only go to college, he’d see
The real heroes are protesting…
Form: Rhyme

My Love, Josefin Slab

My love, Josefin Slab
My first thought the time I wake up
My inspiration in moments I create art
My joy when we chat and laugh together
My strength when I'm on job
The last person I contact before my sleep
The only girl in my mind
The beautiful creature I found
With your sweetest voice and charming smile
With your amazing chatting emoji and laughs
And that walking-dancing baby emoticon
With your crazy mind I love
One with wonderful picture posing
With your brilliant yogurt skin color
With your perfect dressing fashion
With your fantastic ideas and advice on me
From your inner attracting power
A person I can submit my soul to
A person I commit to end in love with
I'm too favored to meet and know you
It isn't enough saying I'm crazy about you
You made me love
You're my weakness.

You make mincemeat of attention on calling my name
It's splendidly something we're grabbing ourselves at
My sleight of hand is premiered by your discernment
But understate yourself in giving someone a drubbing
And provide no rooms for amendments on your skids
Which depreciate the possessions in your proficiency
To affect wiping the floor with joyous love of ours
Really that it needs our synergistic ink to put on paper
I wish to destruct that part of you, likewise you'd
Unto me to paint the tints, shades and tones of loveliness
To sketch the signs of courage and put tolerance details
Keeping warm hues and cold saturations on our tongues
Kindly I request to open your mind and meet with mine
That we can share such fruitiness as matching goals
Safely and sufficient enough getting to our destined cliff
Though you impairs the ontology behind, I quite wonder!

I'm no more down at heel as you slowly met
And no longer experience little love laughs
Which solemnly stole my entire belief on
To smell the sense of dirt on our papers
By free graphite shine no other can see
In that a wild manner stirring sincerity up
My keen to rub the dots of one another
An eraser whose outcome is dusty
The pixels I granted to suit the resolution
The saturation of my tolerance being warm
With all recipes from your soul make up
Frozen springs partly exploiting our intent
A little I'd hatch is a one you crossed
A garment you wore set your eyes into no blink
That my feet found no sand to stand on
But only sweet regrets and sad charms to fall in.

What Did You Do With Gods Tithe

Jesus taught the world
to become fishers of men
to collect Gods tithe
to overcome poverty

Yet men taught themselves
to steal Gods money
and spend it on themselves
take a look

at the houses brought
by the leaders of the church
where once they have your money
they build mansions of self greed

they read your bible
and preach we need money 
for the poor
we need to help those in need

and yet your money lines their pockets
God never said build mansions
God said Treat your neighbour as yourself
is one of the most important rules of the bible

Where is the church when you need help
granted they offer food donations
but food donations come from other people
granted they provide the organisation

but yet the gravy of wealth is taken 
by the leaders of the Church
do they invest Gods money
to build jobs and overcome poverty

do they create wealth with Gods money
to help people involved in car accidents
did they knock at your door
to offer you a job when you were unemployed

did they provide free education 
to help you climb out of poverty
or did they provide expensive education
to once again line their own pockets

Why should Minister 
have only the one job
granted on a  Saturday or Sunday
the people need to hear the word of God

yet they could work 
to satisfy their own needs 
during the week
I am not God

But I would be worried 
if I believed in the bible
Jesus was asked by the Hebrews
who should we pay God or Ceasor

He replied give unto Ceasor what is Ceasors
Give unto God what is Gods
The tithe belongs to God
You build your mansions with his money

You believe that in doing the job 
of bringing people to God
you fulfil his request in the parable 
of the talents

I hope, for your sake, 
you are right
because if you a wrong
he said to the one that buried his money

I can be, a hard and cruel master
and all the servant did was bury the money
how much worse will it be
 
When you find God does exist 
and he stands there asking you
what have you done with my money
did you use it to overcome poverty

did you use it to help the people in need
did you create my kingdom 
invest my money 
did you create free health systems

So poor people could get medication
so children can have eyesight problems fixed
so people didn't suffer 
what did you do with my tithe?
Form: Narrative

Brick By Bloody Brick

"All animals are equal. But some animals are more equal than others."
—George Orwell

A dozen of chickens and a number of horses, a cat and a raven, a few cows and other hoofed ones—all of which are perfectly silent.  Poor wolfie. He can't even find a voice to growl. "Your Honor, if I may request for a short recess," I whisper, humiliatingly like a dying dragon.  But my timid voice is drowned by a sly-looking pig's pouring of whisky into Dis Honor's gilded cup. 

"Have you no respect or have you no eyes?" Squealing, he deafeningly squeals. He reminds me of that scaled wyvern whose head now sits in my living room. It roared deafeningly loud but breathed no fire. "His Honor is having his brief period of refreshment at the moment!" 

With eyes too dry to cry and throat too hoarse to howl, the defendant meekly weeps. But only I hear it; the jury listens to only the silence, loud as a baby serpent's inaudible hiss, of two semi-digested pigs in his gut. 

Who on earth build houses with flimsy hays or sticks nowadays anyway? And was it my client's fault that the third genius Doctor Porkchop got killed when some stray earthquake crushed his oh-so-unshakable fort built brick by bloody brick? Just whose brilliant proposal is it again to have Napoleon presiding the trial of the so-called Big Bad Wolf? If only he was a dragon—a pig-dragon at least— I would fain put the beauty that is my sword into good use right now. 

Countless charges of premeditated murder, culpable animalicide, et cetera. Of course, do sentence us all to another life. I turn to look at the audience right behind me: a mare, a goat, a donkey. A soft motherly neigh followed by an intelligent baa, then by an astute silence. 

"Please, Your Honor," Ridiculous. This stupid courtesy reminds me of tiptoeing past a mother Couatl guarding her eggs. "Shall we resume—" 

Slams of gavel.

"Objection! Objection! Objection!" Dis Honor oinks vehemently, his mouth reeking of poorly brewed whisky—and I thought Tiamat's droppings were bad. The way he repeats the slamming of his gavel with every disgustingly pronounced objection gives me a headache as if it was my head he keeps hammering on. For the first time, being hit by the Basilisk's tail doesn't sound so bad at all. "Here you call me 'Your Honor Napoleon' in full," Oh, believe me, the honor is fully mine.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member In magical verses weave your fated heart's request

In magical verses weave your fated heart's request,
With metaphors holding the shy choir of light abreast,
When hearts corroded by hatred in barrenness rest,
And chains of thought whip gently the gentle flight's zest.
If you are to regain control once more,
When friends of yesteryear were but a lore,
Whose drab garments through time emphatically wore,
But forgiveness you've secreted from its core.
And if in hope you can stand upright,
Not raising armor before the liar’s project slight,
When rage whispers edicts as if to indict,
Melt it in calm, with spirit bright.
Show the world whole your portrait fair,
No masks, no regret, laid bare,
And if you dream of deep breaks in despair,
May you not become in others' lives a dismal seer.
When eternity throws its cold shadow in your corner's crease,
You should gaze with eyes that do not buckle under time’s caprice.
Every living moment in time's palm surely will not cease,
On the heart's scale, they demand to be released.
If you can listen when the truth is spoken,
Alien and shifted in a world that's been broken,
And to persist through the common lies outspoken,
To find faith beneath the frothy spray's token.
If you dare face decay’s embrace without dread,
Avoiding the gilded pleasure's feigned spread,
And in autumn whispers feel your stern fall ahead,
In the poverty of a sky that once display had fed.
Risk carrying on the die heavy, precious pearls,
Wager all that you've got for a fleeting twirl,
And then, whoever you are, learn not to hurl hopes like chaff,
Your failures become a path leading to something more sacred, more daft.
Endure, in a feeble body, remorse and persistence,
Wearing a smile as a shield, melting the tormenting ice of existence.
Cherish the moment that remains in unending instance,
With a soul lined in armor's silent resistance.
If you can fill the silences in empty spaces,
When shattered times speak with yesterday's faces,
Replenish them with fresh sparks among the disgraces,
Then you will build from seconds, unbroken traces.
And the Earth shall through you be magnified,
And all that writhes in its infinite tide,
And in this great shaken, you'll uncover as scribed,
That you're a whole man, not just a soul that's been pried,
Not part of the herd whose times have dried,
But master of the strength from your own dream derived.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Reflection on the Important Things

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter