Long Restless Poems
Long Restless Poems. Below are the most popular long Restless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Restless poems by poem length and keyword.
In a dream world, where reality unravels like a fine fabric,
you conjured a being that cannot exist under this blue sky,
no healer can soothe the longing for her, no poet can tame,
her shadow wandering through days and nights, restless and ever-present.
We met in a year when everything seemed to be just an illusion,
when the powers of the world faded with a deep sigh,
everything was in mourning, bowed under the heavy burden of suffering,
only the graves seemed fresh under the empty and merciless sky.
Without lights, the Bahlui flowed like a dark wave of tar,
a deep night surrounded us like a fortress of cold silence,
and then, when my voice called you from the depths of my heart,
I didn't even know what I was doing, lost in a vague and misunderstood dream.
You came to me, guided by a star through the late autumn mist,
stepping over the dry leaves of a tragic and ephemeral season,
in that house forever desolate with memories and longing,
from where the flight of burned poems rose and vanished into nothingness.
Thus, we dream and lose ourselves in illusions woven from unexpected desires,
where shadows become real and reality slowly unravels,
where the voices of the past pierce the deep silence of the present,
in a melancholic dance of souls that never find rest.
Mid-Summer Rain
The warm sun rises
to take the fleeting life
of the morning dew.
The blazing sun makes
the red horizon laugh
by spreading its
dazzling white radiance.
The sizzling sun bathes
the folks in sweat
as they run and exercise
on the sidewalks and parks.
The fierce sun embraces
and scorches the skin
of the outside laborers.
Summer is the whining
of the boiling sweat, or
the restless lamentation
of the electric fans?
As I was ploughing through
this mid-summer’s lap and
yearning for some cool breeze,
A wind blew, a thunder was heard,
One drop, many drops,
you came pitter patter,
with the smell of fresh soil,
Oh my mid-summer rain!
I cannot stop gazing
at your dancing beauty.
As you slide down,
Caressing the tree leaves,
This fire-baked Earth
chilled in salvation
so my body and soul!
Come often to wipe off the sweat
and to wash away the grime.
Come often to dampen the dryness
and to hold off the drought.
Come often and often,
Oh my mid-summer rain!
Once is never quite enough,
Once again feels more like trust.
Once more, close to sure—
Eat, has eaten, ate, will eat—
Breath itself repeats,
A ritual done compulsively,
Yet never fully satisfied.
Like tasting twice, the second time charms,
Knowledge grows through shifting views,
Education’s pulse is repetition’s arms.
Sometimes, a new truth breaks through,
But the next generation—
History rewritten, old made new.
To learn just once is perilous, my friend,
To keep vital truths alive,
Stay curious, hungry—for what you think you know,
It’s not fresh facts, but the rhythm that thrives.
From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse—
Not enough, I seek a retake,
To still the mind’s restless whispering.
At its core, the brain’s a tireless gossip,
Finding joy in repetition’s simple act,
Without it, a vacuum swells with doubt,
So we repeat—to anchor, to trust, to act.
Contest: The Silent Kiss
Sponsor: Constance La France
Date written: 23rd August, 2025
Placement: Second
"In the silence of the night, a kiss remained still in the depth of dreams." — By Poet
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
In that still night when silence spoke volumes,
I longed for your soft touch to warm the cold air.
But even your shadow lay silent on the bed,
while snow kept drifting as quiet as a mouse.
The cold slipped through the pores of my woolly blanket,
my lips moved to the song by restless crickets.
Not even the hot cup of coffee I brewed
could chase away how cold missing love can feel.
Sleep at last was kind enough to find my eyes,
and I dreamed of you holding tight my hands.
You pressed your familiar kiss upon my cheek,
yet it fell too silent for my soul to notice.
Again and again you kissed my trembling lips,
until you stilled their restless, shaking dance.
And the darkened room grew deeper in its silence.
But morning came too swiftly for the sun
to let your quiet kiss still guard my sleep.
It fled like a thief who scaled my dream,
leaving me to wake with empty longing.
Pills for all ills
Here are my bottles filled with pills
Which doctors claim can cure all ills
Amoxicillin for ear, nose and throat
They've never worked for me
So they don't get my vote
Mirtazapine to keep me calm
Works better than a herbal balm
Ramipril for high blood pressure
Taken each morning in five milligram measure
Cod Liver Oil capsules to loosen up limbs
It's a thing of the past me going to gym's
Codeine for muscle pain taken each night
Restless Leg Syndrome, a terrible plight
Remembering to take them all is a constant battle
If I take anymore I will surely rattle
Forgiveness releases conflicts and has a clean soul effect.
Only positive thought may repair broken relationships
Resolutely communicate after cooling down
Grievances must be put aside in order to pardon.
If you've apologized, you are indeed good.
Venerate to be able to forgive various rage of life.
Elevate peace, embrace, and aid in the exorcism of evil spirits.
Be excuse-making let penance be, and you pretend.
Unflappability; not in a short period of time afterward
Tolerance demands you to have a twisted, restless mind.
Normal person suffers in a sick culture and is not tolerated.
Explore a lawful premise to assist with the goal of relationships.
Victim is punished by his ego, enraged, and seeks retribution.
Each battle is never finished until the moment it ends.
Resilience is the same as confidence, and confidence is faith.
Forgiveness is more valuable than the wrongdoer's harm.
Others are cruel to you. Promise not to let hatred consume you.
Reconciliation based on honesty is better than just respect.
Gain excuse and sensitivity as you stream quickly and nimbly.
Even the solid might be forgiven; strong men tend to disregard.
Thusly, one may enlighten others while slowly healing himself.
written: May 28, 2021
A BRIAN STRAND JULY 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
My dearest friend,
What an ache it is to write to you, knowing my pain, knowing how my mortal body falters beneath the weight of its trials.
My words, though steeped in suffering, ring like a low bell in the evening—melancholy but beautiful, laced with the music of a soul nearing the sea's eternal shore.
Where should I go to die?
Will I be allowed to go where the waves call me, where the salt air sings through my weary veins, and the rhythm of the tides can cradle my restless heart.
The sea is a healer, a keeper of secrets, and when the time comes, it will know how to receive me—gentle as a lover, vast as eternity itself.
Hope spring's eternal as would all the good people I have met in this life.
My light, my friend, has been a clear and unwavering flame, and it is right to be unwilling to let it be muddled by the darkness of others.
Hospital's, jail's or prison's, such is this thought it terrifys me even more.
I have run your race with a spirit that outpaced even my shadow.
Those who carry burdens of their own may not always see how brightly I may have shone, but let the stars bear witness.
They have watched me, steadfast in the great cosmic night.
I think often of love, as you must even now.
Love is not a balm that cures the body, but it is the one truth that fills the soul when all else fails.
Do not mourn my passing from the physical world, for love never dies—it is the echo in every gravitational wave, the whisper in every breeze, the pulse of the earth itself.
As for me, I dream often of seas that amaze.
The restless ocean mirrors our own transience, but it also holds a promise of rest.
If I must leave, I know that I do not leave alone.
My physical and psychological pain will dissolve into the deep, and my light will—no longer be encumbered by flesh— I will join the unbroken radiance that is the sea, the sky, the infinite.
And to a curious spirit, what lies beyond.
Soon, I say, none can join me.
If it is true, my dear, then let it be under the vast and sheltering skies, with the waves as witness and the wind as your requiem, my pro quo.
Your courage is the greater part of me, and it will carry you to peace.
Yours, as the stars are to the heavens,
I am,
James McLain
Thirty years ago, your life was taken away.
You have been deceased for 10,958 days.
You starred in "Bonanza", "Little House On The Prairie" and "Highway To Heaven" as well.
You were very talented and when it came to being a success, you were bound not to fail.
You also guest starred on other TV shows.
You were only 54, that was too young to go.
In 1957, you starred in the pilot episode of "The Restless Gun".
Twenty-seven years later in 1984, you starred in "Sam's Son".
You and Victor French both died of cancer and both of you died at the age of fifty-four.
You and French were buddies and it's sad that neither of you can star in anything anymore.
[Dedicated to Michael Landon (1936-1991) who died 30 years ago today on July 1, 1991]
Here in the garden, raindrops are falling
scents of springtime fill me with wonder
then I do see you, under the arbor
you look up as I pass by.
Your eyes they hold me, lovely and tender
here my heart stirs, with hidden passions
I smile shyly, you offer flowers
we sit and watch the rain.
We share together, as if we're not strangers
with an ease so free
for our hearts meld truly together
I with you and you with me.
Time passes slowly, raindrops stop falling
sunlight fills our eyes with devotion
your face is lovely, I cannot leave you
you’re the one I'm looking for.
Even then, I'd be lost without you
restless as the sea
stay with me, for you are a treasure
more than life could ever be.
Here in our garden, through many springtimes
even now, our hearts are filled with wonder
that chance encounter, under the arbor
we found our love, so free.
Written on 2/8/2018
But one brief moment in eternity
Was this wee warbler which You sent to me.
O, brave little bird with the cheerful tune,
Tell me: Why did you leave your nest so soon?
Trembling with a desire to fly off too,
He left the nest as his mother would do.
He barely escaped a fluttering fall;
The safety of the nest beyond recall.
He sang his song boldly this baby beak,
In a cheerful voice that challenged the sky
And belied the truth that he could not fly
Because his newborn nestling wings were weak.
I found him warbling beneath a short shrub.
I sheltered him as best I was able
In his place past the patio table
Where his mother fed him insects and grubs.
Restless and hungry he gave her no rest.
This unworried warbler’s chick had no doubt
He belonged to the world beyond the nest.
One brief day, his heroic heart gave out.
But one brief moment in eternity
Was this wee warbler which You sent to me.
A brave little bird with a cheery tune.
Tell me: Why did he leave his nest so soon?”
3/13/2019