Long Reverse Poems
Long Reverse Poems. Below are the most popular long Reverse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reverse poems by poem length and keyword.
The day you abruptly went away,
My heart became frozen and my soul grew shades of gray,
My little eyes watched as your cadillac pulled out,
After listening to all those screams and foolish shouts,
The driveway was vacant, the house became dark,
I knew at that moment we would never again go to the park,
When I got home from school you would not be there,
I prayed to God that you would still some how care,
No one explained to me at seven years old,
That I would have to watch so much unfold,
Depression set inside that vacant place,
I no longer had that bright smile on my face,
The tire swing we built together fell apart late that June,
I would now have to learn way too soon,
How to fend for myself and take your place,
I had to fill your empty space,
I tried so hard to be like you,
Even built a tree house in honor of you,
I learned how to fix things around the house,
I even protected mom once from a mouse,
But no matter what I did,
It did not make up for me not allowed to be a kid,
Other kids got to see their dads, even when their parents got divorced,
But that wasn’t the case for me of course,
All I did was think of you, my first love had been devastatingly untrue,
The events that happened after can’t be written in just one poem,
Only God could possible have the right size thread to have sown
The chunks that life took out of me,
All because my daddy never came back to be
What every little girl desires
The protector, provider, the one who inspires
All grown up and it is now bitter sweet
For now I help other little girls whose dads caused them to have years of defeat
One day when I have my own
I will be able to set the right tone
I will be able to feed my inner child
Embrace her and enjoy what you so freely defiled
We either repeat are parent’s mistakes or do whatever we can to prevent
That generational cycle from becoming like cement
Braking it now and forgiving you
Was the best thing I could ever do
For I harbor no resentment and I have no anger
I just know that not having a father put me in a lot of danger
But I am blessed to have had my heavenly dad
He was the one who was there when I was sad
He was the one who protected me from strife,
The one who taught me how to reverse my life,
I can live free because now I see,
what you did in the end, hurt you more than it did me.
By: Sabina Nicole
Written 9/6/11
I am fascinated by space science because it is so divine. I am fascinated by space science because everything it entails is sublime. Human operates machine and machine work for human; human input the information but the machine regurgitates it.
Its AI and automation against human invention, e-commerce and job outsourcing in reverse. If you cannot pay me let me go to those who are willing to hire me, but please don’t use me and then you discard me. You lurk behind the screen saying that you have run out of money and you cannot bring me back to fulfill my dreams.
I don’t join games because I don’t know to play them, I don’t play games because am not good at winning them. I don’t play games because I don’t know the rules and sometimes it leaves you confused. I approach everything in life in a pragmatic and realistic manner.
You place the burden on the commuter saying that it is giving the order; computer is not human and someone must operate it to transfer the information to you, oh what silly deprivation. You are trying to elude reality and not living up to your responsibility, the ship will be at the surface on time and you must give me what is mine.
You have built more than a dozen space ship with words dripping from my lips; you have sent missions to the moon with words burning from my finger tips and vinegar is draining in my lungs; with swollen fingers and broken palm words flow from my heart into the computer gut before dawn, and then you slice it up and serve it for breakfast dinner and lunch and disrespect my painful sacrifice, and you call it AI.
I work day and night and because I don’t know how to fight I continue to stretch myself to fulfill a mandate for the moon. You send me into the space to explore the galaxy and look into the black hole to see where gravity is bold and the space around the corner lit up with billions of stars flickering in the night, oh what a wonderful sight.
Will machine eventually take over human lives after decades of painful sacrifice? Will machine takes over our lives and leave us without a dime? Nights upon nights the human brain toil to fill the machine sitting on the throne but sometimes the gripe is so strong it vomits out on the land and my eyeball spread the words all over the human race and squeeze matter into tiny space. It man against woman and one woman working with computer.
A new song to celebrate the month of Love. This is for all those who have lost loved ones. Blessings.
Without you
By Michelle Morris
28/02/2024
It's not easy trying to live down here without you
I have all these feelings and memories
Deep emotions that won't let me go
Deep emotions that you already know
Life goes on, even if we're stuck in reverse
Life goes on, no matter how much it hurts
And one of the craziest things we have to accept
Is that the one we miss will never be seen again
In this life... In this life...
In this time... In this time...
No more running... No more running...
No reasons or rhymes... No reasons or rhymes...
Because...
I... I have to make it through without you
(Without you, without you)
Oh, I... I have to make it through without you
(Without you, without you)
Without you
(Without you)
And I... I have to make my own dreams come true
(Without you, without you)
Oh, I... I have to live my life, my whole truth
(Without you, without you)
Without you
(Without you)
I hold on to my dreams, my dreams
You're the best my world has seen, has seen
I know you're real and here with me, with me
Even though you're unseen, unseen
Life will still go on without you
(Without you)
But I don't see how it will be of any use
(Any use to me)
All I want is to hold you in my arms again
(Hold you close)
All I want is our dream to never ever end
(Never-ending dreams with me)
In this life... In this life...
In this time... In this time...
No more running... No more running...
No reasons or rhymes... No reasons or rhymes...
Because...
I... I have to make it through without you
(Without you, without you)
Oh, I... I have to make it through without you
(Without you, without you)
Without you
(Without you)
And I... I have to make my own dreams come true
(Without you, without you)
Oh, I... I have to live my life, my whole truth
(Without you, without you)
Without you
(Without you)
Because...
I... I have to make it through without you
(Without you, without you)
Oh, I... I have to make it through without you
(Without you, without you)
Without you
(Without you)
And I... I have to make my own dreams come true
(Without you, without you)
Oh, I... I have to live my life, my whole truth
(Without you, without you)
Without you
(Without you)
© Michelle Morris, 2024
I swung with a vengeance but missed that damned fly
The breeze I’d created caused him to pass by
My electric racquet in underarm mode
Still failed to make that bluebottle explode
It filled me with hate as it buzzed round my plate
I swung and I swung and became more irate
That foul little demon was soon to be dead
As soon as it took itself off of my head
Now, I’m not a coward in anyone’s book
But I’m in no hurry to smell my brain cook
I angled my zapper to strike as it rose
And almost set fire to the tip of my nose
It flitted at speed like a Pac-Man on heat
But I am a human… I will not be beat
My dinner was cooling and it wasn’t salad
I’ll murder that fly and then write me a ballad
Overarm, underarm, back-hand and flip
My energised racquet was firm in my grip
At one point it landed on chandelier-high
And I had to wave that light fitting goodbye
My sausage was cold (can we please keep this clean)
And I had become a fly killing machine
A back somersault and a cartwheel or two
My electric racquet had flashed neon blue
Poor little Tiddles, she trusted me so
Her recuperation has some way to go
But I’ll give her cuddles and snuggles and then
I dearly regret that I zapped her again
Twas kinda Dick Whittington, but in reverse
Tiddles left home and I don’t know what’s worse
My poor little kitten is out on her own
But that demon-fly is at rest on my phone
How great the temptation to say what the hell
And batter that fly and my iPhone as well
But then it took off and it sped through the air
I swung and I swiped and set fire to my hair
Okay I confess; just a few hairs got singed
But I don’t have many and that’s why I whinged
In anger I swiped at the sound of its hums
Which came close to giving me two deep fried plums
How bloody long can a bluebottle live
My electric racquet and I cannot give
Yet more gymnastics to vanquish our foe
As I shoot some volts through my right hand big toe
I whirled like a dervish and now on a mission
I swung like a thing that had infra red vision
But, boy, did I cheer at the quiet little ‘phut!’
As that fly took a window to find it was shut
***
But now I feel guilty for I’ve done okay
Though I don’t know who saw me swinging away
I owe my new job to that small airborne menace
My local school wants me to teach the kids tennis
We're in the midst of trump times and
We need to understand
That that individual in the White House
Is not a righteous man
He's all about division, discord
And disarray
And when a domestic terror act occurred
He did not have much to say
White nationalists staged a rally to keep
A confederate statue in place
No regard and no respect for any other
Ethnicity nor any other race
A group of anti- protesters were in a
Peaceful march as well
Until a nationalist in a car mowed them down
Causing utter hell
We're in trump times the country's
Moral barometer has done a reverse
We're in trump times trust and believe
It can only get worse
Threats against the North Koreans
Who are launching potential weapons to kill
Instead of using diplomacy
Trump wants to assert his will
On the precipice of what could
Possibly become world war 3
What should we do?
What are our spiritual strategies?
One, we would do well to accept
The invitation from Christ our Savior
To worship, witness and walk
With a Christlike behavior
We need God to remind us
That we are not alone
And never ever forget that its He
Who sits on the throne
God is in charge He's still in control
Hopefully He'll work on presidents
Trump and Kim Jong Un souls
Two, we need gather together in
Remembrance of He
Jesus the Christ who died
To give us the victory
To eat of the bread and drink of the wine
Remnants of His body and blood
To examine our own hearts
And acknowledge His unconditional love
To stay in touch with reality
To remember our past and our pain
Of the slavery that is still on American
A badge of shame
Let us never forget
what has come to pass
Let us never forget Jesus
and the love for us He has
For when we remember we reestablish
All truths and how they came to be
And no tweet will erase nor change
The true reality
Trump talks about fake news
But free press will prevail
As only free press stops a nation from
Becoming a dictatorship from hell
Spiritual strategies for trump times
We need to realize
We need to stay united
And keep our eyes on the prize
Let us never forget the blood
That was shredded and the sacrifice
Let us never forget that for our sins
Jesus gave His life
Let us look past skin color
And ignore race
Let us remember God
Who gave us His infinite
Mercy and Grace
"BLACK CAT"
SILENCE
prowls on soft paws
with sharp claws
Cutting up the
Middle Road
Dark shadow moves
SILIENCE
In absentia
Empty Absynthe
Puncture wounds
Cold wind blows
Over tracks
Skids softly
like warm
gants de Suède
on
Poets’ Row
Rat goes
Rat goes
Red scream
scarlet ribbons
LIFE
flows
Le Mort
blushes colour
a trite persuade
different streets
different gutters
Torn canvas sheets
contained between
prison bar margins
Drafts on the floor
crumpled
Blue fountain
Heart bursting
Love and Hate
Grows
Save Our Souls
Save Our Souls
Sins
Sisters of Mercy
and
Salvation Army Sargents'
Tambourines
Communion
Nibs lying next to
Garbage Bin
Finally Ash Felt
Rain on her
Bitumen face
Black Minx
Fur Pelt
Unfurls lazy stretch
Glass eyed
Minx
Back Alley Dreaming
Bad Luck
Bad Luck
Rolling loaded dice
blood boiling steaming
Brush strokes
Like glyph a glitch
Like glyph a glitch
Familiar mirror
Walks through Witch
Yesterday
Screams
Like glyph a glitch
Repeat curse
Repeat curse
Black Cat purring
Never lose
Hold tight
Pearls in Purse
7 Devils Dreaming
Sleepwalking
Graffiti Warning
Black Cat
Witch
Glebe
Last Stop Station
Rehearse a
Hearse
LIFE
Glyph a glitch
Reverse
(Lovejoy-Burton/May 2018)
1. Hanged Man
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/hanged-man/
2. Death
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/death/
3. Temperence
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/temperance/
4a. Glyph
noun
a pictograph or hieroglyph.
a sculptured figure or relief carving.
Architecture. an ornamental channel or groove
4b. Glyph
https://www.thoughtco.com/what-is-a-glyph-2086584
5. "Black Cat"/Ladytron (Translation)
http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858716200/
6. Silience
http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/49792543182/silience
7. Seven Devils
- Is a Solitaire card game.
- Seven Deadly Sins
- The Seven Devils of Mary Magdeline
- Florence and the Machine, Seven Devils
8. La Morte, Le Mort, La Mort
Le mort = dead man = un mort, a dead man
La morte (with the e on the end) = dead woman, une morte = a dead woman
La mort (no 'e' on the end) - death; as in the concept of death
I let your eyes to visualise a garden on a loom;
Bluebells and marigolds in sway and lavender in bloom;
And there to play in a luscious green two kittens wrestling;
Up high in chirping swallow's play are feathered friends a-singing.
A figure of a handsome man is settled on a chair;
And by his side a beauty pure strokes lovingly his hair;
The Witch, or so the story plays, is set to work a-stitching;
For everyday she works to lay the groundwork for her witching.
The "Loom of Dunkele" is dark and glistens as if new;
That which it forges is by spelling set to render true;
This vessel handed down through time where Witches are sure wed;
Commutes it powers to the offsprings through that marriage bed.
At 35 she must be bride and to a handsome beau;
For Dunkele demands that beauty seeps through row to row;
The Witch beholden to this pact must honour this or else;
The Dunkele will take her beauty for its very self.
Dunkele demands a beauty in it's natural mould;
The Witch must weave the magic seams without her vêtements;
As pure as a newborn should she display her nakedness;
For Dunkele gave a perfect body not to be redressed:
No blemish, painting, marking, piercing for her skin to bear;
No jewellery should adorn her parts no braids within her hair;
Should she ignore these rulings and would set about to loom;
The magic would reverse all workings never to resume.
Above the loom, portraits in rows, of Witches one and all;
Each face a picture of a beauty unimaginable;
Throughout all time the loom has served and must forever more;
Or else a terrible curse be laid upon each maiden's door:
Indeed, to pander verily to a Dragon's carnal needs;
The Witch must feed on blood and guts and do as Dragon pleads;
Forever trapped in a darkened lair, no view of sun or sea;
The Witch would disappear from sight, no trace or history.
For 20 years this loom she spins as was the bargain made;
And in this time her beauty shone, success and wealth her aid;
Now in an hour the carpet loomed but for a patch to fill;
A slip of hair should she prepare to weave into the mill.
Then once complete the spell to speak releasing her shalom;
To lead her to that wondrous place where there awaits Handsome;
This rite of passage like forebears would guarantee the Witch;
Leaves on the blood line of her ilk a rich continuous stitch.
Aurora stood at the gravesite close to Robert’s casket on the bier
“Look at her, why I’ve yet to see a tear”
The lady whispered to the other so Aurora could hear
“Her dress is disrespectful; it’s a heartless thing to wear
“My heart bleeds for her husband lying there”
This was Robert’s favorite dress and he always used to say
“Aurora, wear it for me when I ‘go away’
If you care and I know you do you’ll dare!
Aurora, promise me please no tears
We’ve known this moment was coming for almost two years.”
Aurora saw a man appear under the oak tree on the knoll
It was Robert walking in an unhurried stroll!
He used the “royal wave” he liked to imitate
Aurora repeated it in reverse, she didn’t even hesitate
She saw and felt him there emotionally reacting
Intellectually realizing “this can’t be happening!”
Staring at each other across the expanse of lawn
Sharing a last loving communication not as two but one
Robert blew her a kiss and walked out of sight
Trembling wildly, Aurora fought to stay upright.
A solitary tear fell from Aurora’s eye, she felt it descending
In slow passage down her cheek carving a groove blistering
Stories abound about this unique and mysterious solitary tear
Report it happens infrequently, only every several years
How or why the tear finds its mourner cannot be explained
The tear’s origin and source has yet to be discovered or named.
It’s said that a person’s intensity of inexpressible feelings
Make the tear appear by their profound grieving.
Aurora, like others, is disorganized and unfocused following Robert’s death
Making endless adjustments, trying to catch a breath
One day she touches the scar on her cheek made by that solitary tear
Her mind clears and it becomes an amazing day without confusion or fear
Salvation and comfort take many forms if you pray
Especially if you believe what God imparts in His way
She finally understands that Robert’s soul and spirit were not lost to her
And that living isn’t meant to be a meaningless blur
Robert rejoiced in living and in his love for her taught her to feel the same
They had priceless moments together more than she could count or name
And she starts recalling all the memories they made while husband and wife
Who’s to say what or whom finally brought Aurora back
And gifted her with a tender and loving renewal of her life.
Each year we drive to the south of Spain to soak up the sun's warm rays
But we like to maintain a leisurely pace, so it takes us two full days
Which means we stay at Hotel-and-Go, that sadly has one minor flaw
It's hidden away and finding the place each year is a bit of a chore
So this time I went into Google maps and zoomed in to the nth degree
The coordinates set, I was happy to let the sat nav find it for me
"You have reached your destination" the confident voice rang out
"No we flippin’ haven't" I cried "We're in the middle of a roundabout"
Ahead in the dark was a restaurant, so I went in to seek their advice
As to where the hotel was located, the directions were very precise
Turn to the left then left again then follow the road to the right
Go under a bridge, cross two roundabouts and the hotel will come into sight
We turned to the left, then left again and the road became a dirt track
We skidded and squealed with mud on the wheels with no way to reverse or turn back
We reached the hotel tired and irate, vowing never to come back again
I brought up the suitcase then a buzzing began, which was going to drive us insane
The noise came out of a grill, and although to heights I’m averse
I climbed on a chair and took it apart and succeeded in making it worse
The receptionist had nowhere to move us, but I wasn’t prepared to back down
So, fair play to her, she came up to the room to confront the irritant sound
"I'll find you another room", she said "You can’t stay in here tonight"
And so in the end she became my best friend, I could hardly contain my delight
I collected my kit and caboodle, pulled the case away from the wall
And the room immediately fell silent, not a trace of the buzzing at all
The noise had come out from the suitcase, hard to believe but true
My battery shaver had turned itself on and the sound was vibrating through
It was amplified by the hollow stud wall to emerge from the grill overhead
So the cause of the noise I had misdiagnosed creating confusion instead
I went down to the desk at reception to confess to the girl my ‘faux pas’
"Guess what, you’ll never believe it, the buzzing stopped, I know its bizarre”
So these days I’ll choose a hotel, that’s easy to find and what's more
I take out the batteries from every device and lay the case on the floor
Am I Vexed? No!
Am I vexed to face music? We both are ‘same sex.’
It’s beyond man to fathom the depth of man’s soul
though perhaps a computer (imagined) might spin
all the dreams love might share, why sun’s rainbows arch backs
like a cat, or why butterflies pinned in a box make us dream
we still see them in flight when collection’s their death!
Does a nugget that’s ripped from quartz crystal’s complex
miss the death of its parent, the star it was born of, feel toll
paid by hydrogen gas, that birthed star? Does gold win
that can plumb all the times it has filled a heart’s cracks!
Love grows colder confessed, that’s unable to stream
what heart wants? I’ll denounce this until my last breath!
Am I vexed we’ve both wives with whom each shares his bed,
one eternity’s hourglass suffices such friends?
Let me speak for myself and not dare to presume
who you love, but has love yet been born that is meek?
If you can, tell me please how such love can be love (so restrained),
not erupt in hot rhymes, or ice flows of free verse?
You think tides (moon might raise), or earth’s seasons reverse
(on the axis of globe knocked-off kelter), mean love’s time-constrained?
Is love full strength, or is it diluted; will squeak,
has a voice known to roar? Care can stay in the room
(if there’s good news or bad), gives short shrift to loose ends!
Our time’s brief on this earth! Save love’s honor for Dead?
Brian Johnston
29th of September in 2020
Poet’s Notes:
Craig Wilson is one of my oldest and dearest friends! We first met in
the US Peace Corps teaching 12th Form students at the Sultan Abu Bakar
Secondary School in Kuantan, Malaysia, from 1968-1970. Craig taught
Biology and I taught Physics. Craig gave his class, and mine, a three-day
sex education class (that was not in the Malaysian Syllabus!) near the end
of our two-year PC commitment. Ha!
My friend and I are both getting ‘long in the tooth!’ I’m five years older,
but our contemporaries are becoming fewer in number. I thought, why
should I wait to write Craig a love poem? I might easily pass before him,
and I am so proud to say that I love Craig, a man, period! May the heaven
(that I hope for) or the reincarnation (he dreams of) mean eternities loom
ahead for us both, though I’m (certainly?) far more ‘Right’ than Craig is!