Long Rise Poems

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


Madness

Call me crazy I dare you,
This is madness at a new level.
Our president has lost his mind,
It’s appalling just read the signs.

The numbers rise astronomically,
Don’t tell me Trump is the Calvary.
I believe Biden will help stabilize,
A nation that’s politically spiraling.

If you can’t bear my words,
Then move on from my work.
I’m not here to please you,
I’m here to speak the truth.

Chaos and turbulence are ambient,
In a chaotic pandemic environment.
The lack of seriousness and leadership,
Is appalling and unfathomable to believe.

Refusal to accept and concede,
Eradicating the purpose of democracy.
It’s sad to see America in disarray,
When faith and change are in dire need.
Form: Rhyme


A Quiet Palm Sunday

On a humble donkey he once rode
Thunderous crowds by the road
Liberation they craved or
A salvation he gave forth

He rides into Jerusalem once more
With no glare from two thousand years ago
Fear has pulled back praisers out of his path
There was no red carpet but marks of an invisible wrath

On this Sunday, palms of praise are not seen
The stones could not sing along to any hymn
Only sounds of the clopping are heard
The King rode on to the fate ahead

A lone conqueror of sin and damnation
He rides to war without a shield or ammunition
With praise subdued by fear, he still rides to his crucifixion
To die and rise again to save the world from a contagion
Form: Sonnet

Resurgence

I have eyeballs on rivals
to tear them from titles
push them to survival
for now's my time to thrive tall

replicating the idols
with my wired alive force
answer destiny's call
I'll live desperate no more

fresh with my core filled with fuel
skill pour sick of this stall
now to glide from the crawl
out of the Hell I endure

I'm most assuredly sure
I will rise from the fall
reach for prizes and soar
dead certain winner of war

Revive The Trim Trimmer show
With phenomenal flow
Not no go or so-so
oh no I'll show flow woah woah

High and low like a yo-yo,
smooth rhythm knock out blows 
tick tock tick tock explode
If you don’t know now you know

not these awful corny rows
bring bringer of no hope  
for The Trim Trimmer show
will win with win winner flow
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Coagulate

Finally my blood began to coagulate,
surrendering to wounds from constant battles.
I was fading in shades of an Autumn leaf,
crumbling to seasonal trials,
yet, searching for a remedy
to prevent winds from carrying me away.

In the pantomime of life, 
I've learned how to pretend.
Hiding the truth behind each scar,
visible and invisible, engraved upon my skin.
My soul is a testament to inflictions fought and won.
Sometimes lacerations ache,
yet the pain can never define me.
For within me burns a spirit, fierce and full of flames.
I've soared over storms,
illuminated in the darkest night -
still, I rise to the call of morning Robins.

Each clot forming is a symbol of resilience,
as in the face of adversity, I find my lion nature,
so let the blood coagulate, let healing begin.
I am a samurai not prepared to retire my Katana sword.
Through every trial, I'll emerge stronger,
until it's finally time to go back home.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Crazy Town

No one goes down to crazy town
they stay put or don't care,
but floods seep
tides rise
snakes swim.
Crazy town does not knock
before it comes in.

Murderous are the many
who though few
do much when they do.
Bedlam glowers
bawls naked from gothic bell towers,
the batty belch bawdily
in the public square.

The cops run guns drawn
but they run the other way.
Crazy runs the subway
green are the goblins of crime.

Crazy craps in the street,
rats deplore the mess;
it's all so cruddy and awful
change the tv channel,
or turn the volume down

on high-jinxing, carjacking,
dog nabbing,
crazy town.


Premium Member Address Unknown

Still searching for my permanent address,
seeking where I really live, fit in.
Suspended between life’s already-happened
and soon-to-be-memories moments.
Longing for a white-picket-fenced home,
landscaped in self-trust, self-respect,
with room for a full-of-love heart.
Instead, I discover a crumbling castle,
mossy, dank dungeon of the mind
imprisons me.
The jagged nettles of cruel abuse
doled out by my dark thoughts
pierce my soul.
Spirit sapped, barely staying alive.
Hope, in one tiny sliver of daylight
in the cracked castle wall,
penetrates the darkness.
When push comes to shove,
will there be enough shove left in me
to rise above,
to finally reside in happily-ever-after?
My choice.

Premium Member All Rise

People rose in quick succession
As the bailiff said  "All rise , this court is now in session"
The judge walked into the courtroom
And the trial would begin soon
My client stared straight ahead
On trial for killing the husband she had recently wed
He  used  to  beat her after his drinking bouts
It was either him or her,  no doubt

But it was a clear case of self defense
As I listened to the prosecutors opening  statement
Then the  first witness was called
An elderly woman who lived two houses away
She said she heard a loud argument on the night in question
Followed by two shots in quick succession

But she forgot to mention
That fireworks were going off on the night in question
As more witnesses were called
I cross examined them all
There was no denying that some of them were lying

The trial lasted  for  seven days
And there were many reasonable doubts raised
Finally it was given to the jury to deliberate
In their hands was my client's fate
On the fourth day a verdict was reached
My client stood up with tears in her eyes
As the judge said "Will the defendant please rise"

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop
But my client's tears did not stop
The verdict was read rather quickly
"We the jurors find the defendant ....  not guilty"!!
My clients fears turned to joy
As she hugged and thanked me

I had set  the fair maiden free
From the dragon raging out of control
I was the hero, the dragon slayer of old
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.

Somers Town

Born in a high rise, low mind concrete prison.
Delivered gift wrapped to a predestined repetition. 
Bars on doors,  on windows and wrapped around my mouth.  

The loudness of silence.

Unknown entities draped in faded British bulldogs holding pints and childhoods, one in each hand. 
The family men gathered whetting their lips with hops, hurt and hate.

Loose Knuckles and loose lips both sink women, I mean ships.

Warm dead paving, a lifetime of chewed up, spat out offerings littering the estate like a Jackson Pollock altar.

Sacred violence. 

The bikes piled up on the green, a can in the spokes, a flame, a bike missing, an R.I.P plaque on a wall.

The smell of BBQs, the feel of brick walls baked from sun and slander, the sound of beatings in the distance, the taste of stolen innocence.

Sirens and sadness - a Somers Town soundtrack, 10 blackjacks, a panda pop, and a boy who didn’t make it home. Another child who died alone. 

Will I ever be happy here?  Free? A story of redemption? 

Escape. 

Will I make it or just another obituary from the council estate.
© CJO BOW  Create an image from this poem.

The Other Side of the Mirror

Light through the window
eases me out of bed
and as I rise
birds sing.

The refrigerator hums
and I walk into the kitchen
while inside lines linger
my dreams.

I walk barefoot over
the worn carpet
and close my eyes
listening to the morning speak.

I listen to the morning speak
stroke keys on a laptop
as words flow through me
and hold the page to the light

while wondering how
a simple poem
can say so much

and wonder how
I fell in love.

I think I’ll show it
to her, my friend
who used to work with me.

The sun shines on me
as I walk to the car
but a rabbit in the yard
and I speak to each other
when no one is watching.

I say hello to my friend
as she stands behind the counter
and she cradles my poem
in her hands. She smiles
as she reads between the lines.

She says it is good
and I say I’m picking up
a few items, and when
I get to the checkout line
she stands alone waiting for me.

Mayhem

This little tiny Nation standing upon all that they have faced
Nearing their last station for which they have always braced
Continually under attack intensifying from nearly every side
If you're keeping track already convicted before being tried

And there sits the Valley which was so appropriately named
Just between you and me the Lord God will not be shamed
And as such tensions rise and new relationships are sealed
No one should be surprised when the whole thing is revealed

There they sit among themselves waiting for the next attack
The whole entire world delves but the knowledge they lack
So lacking in the Word of God their minds now so twisted
So  it's, Israel they prod and their Army God has enlisted

Look out enemies of Israel too wicked to see it coming
Oh for sure you will feel a defeat that is mind-numbing
Megiddo being the place where a river of blood will run
In now not taking His Grace you'll be judged by His Son

Zechariah 12:3 and 9
And in that day will I make Jerusalem a burdensome stone for all people:
all that burden themselves with it shall be cut in pieces,
though all the people of the earth be gathered together against it.

9) And it shall come to pass in that day,
that I will seek to destroy all the nations that come against Jerusalem.

If God seeks to destroy you, goodbye!
Form: Rhyme

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