Long Rocking Poems
Long Rocking Poems. Below are the most popular long Rocking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rocking poems by poem length and keyword.
Please do not define me by the house I’m living in.
You don’t know where I’m going; you don’t know where I’ve been.
Just because my house is not a mansion or chalet,
Doesn’t mean I can’t be just as happy where I stay.
The circumstances of our lives can change from time to time.
It seems to me that this time, a change will soon be mine.
I’m not sure I am ready to face this task again.
I’m longing for the days of youth and happy times back then.
No matter where I hang my hat, my heart is still the same.
Four walls alone won’t make a home when filled with doubt or shame.
A house is made of bricks or wood, but this I must confide…
A house is not a home unless true love resides inside.
A home should be a place that reaches out its arms to you,
Some rocking chairs on your front porch, where you enjoy the view.
As soon as you set foot inside the door you know you’re home,
Where Home Sweet Home is always best, no matter where you roam.
The welcome mat, it does just that…it makes you feel secure.
It doesn’t matter where you’re at, or if you’re rich or poor.
I think a home can know if you are feeling sad or blue,
And in its way, will do its best to take good care of you.
To me, there's nothing sadder than a house no one lives in.
No family to call its own, and empty rooms within.
Its windows are the eyes that blankly stare, as if to say,
“Won’t you come inside and take my loneliness away?”
The houses where I’ve lived before were happy ones, you see.
I loved each one in different ways and I know they loved me.
I left my mark on each of them in one way or another,
Especially the one I shared with Daddy and my Mother.
This home won’t be as nice as some I’ve lived in, in the past.
Financial strain can dwindle down a bank account so fast.
I have to do what’s right for me, and not for any other.
If you don’t like the place I live, I can’t go buy another.
I hope I won’t be judged by where I live, because you see
Your circumstances, too could change; you may live next to me.
Tornado Magnet, Trailer Trash…call me what you will.
The only thing that matters is the sweet relief I’ll feel.
Although it’s sad to leave this home, I never understood,
The heavy burden of my debt would soon be gone for good.
So if you want to tease me now, I’m sure you will agree,
This “almost” Trailer Trash is very soon to be debt-free!
LETTER TO MY FUTURE SELF
Hello there, sweet Lady Jane,
So, it is three weeks before you turn seventy,
do you think you can honestly tell you found
your peace of mind, contentment, happiness?
Or are you still searching for answers to the
things you never understand and wondering
the what ifs, when you damn know there would
be no answers, no explanations, no clarifications.
Your children are giving you a party and all your
grandchildren will be there to celebrate you.
Do they make you proud for what they become?
Or do you still think you did not spend enough time
with them when you cannot turn back time or do
you still worry and wish something better for them?
All your siblings with their spouses, children and
grandchildren will join your family in celebrating
you reaching a major milestone, are you excited?
Or do you still feel like an outsider for your
mother, their mother treated you differently.
I know your life did not turn to be what you wanted,
as your life journey put you through many adversities
including sorrow and pain that you turned out to be
what you are meant to be, a strong willed woman.
You learned to let go the shadows that haunted you
and you accepted and embraced what life threw at you
becoming appreciative and thankful with your blessings.
In the past, you were asked many times what your plans
were for the next five years? ten years? for the future?
You had so many for you couldn’t get no satisfaction.
Now, you just whisper let it be, the words of wisdom.
Your dreams never materialized; but they never left you.
So at this time in your life you think you are never too old
to dream or create new ones by reinventing yourself.
You dare to live your life at its fullest and take a chance
to create your own happiness for it is a decision, a choice.
So, my sweet Lady Jane, it is nice to see you not worrying
about the future; but dancing and rocking to rock and roll
music, living like Ruby Tuesday, you come and go and
change every new day and you just imagine, living for today.
Ahhhh……..
11/22/21 Your Favorite Poem of 2021 Poetry
Chantelle Anne Cooke
9/18/21 Written and Submitted
Letter To Your Future Self Poetry
Silent One
NOTE: My pen name is Sweet Lady Jane
from the Rolling Stone's Lady Jane
Inspired by one of my favorite bands, Rise Against, and the song is called,
“Ever-changing” (Acoustic). Please listen to this song if you don’t know of it. It’s raw &
powerful.
“Have you ever been a part of something? That you thought would never end. But then, of
course, it did.” –Rise Against
“I fell in ‘Like’ with you”
With her smile
I melted unto oblivion’s redemption
Candy coated perceptions, windows’ gap
Seeping brilliance refreshment
Uncertainty resolution, polished
Absorbed into closeness sun
Yet these eyes still…see
Butterflies taking notice, missing you…as you stood in front of me
Strong, yet soft legs
Foundation of my face to rest upon
Scars…fading
A cremated sin
Yet, elongated moments of silence
Created abruption’s new face
The face of change
When she turned to me and said
“I’m not sure, anymore”
Emotional lullaby, rocking me to sleep
New battles with spectral flashback
Trying to get under my skin, a drunken tick facing demise
Phoenix’s sunrise, rejuvenating my recycled defenses
Yet, today, these rays just aren’t bright enough to burn sadness away
And with these sounds of storm clouds & Fall on horizon’s breath
These grounds are so familiar, yet bittersweet
This heart doesn’t want to be enlightened by karma today
It wants to be held for how it shines now
Denied…distance wins again today
Slavery whipped punishments in miles and blocks
This must end
Because I try to keep lines open to get a call from you
Yet all I hear are booty calls with busy signals
And yet something has kept me here too long
But can they leave me, if I’m already gone?
Something has kept me here too long
Karma’s laughter
But, through it all, I will shine
…
How I wish my mere presence can bring joy’s tear to her eye
Sadly though, now, the lines are drawn
Yet I wonder if this feeling is gone
Have the best parts of this…come and gone?
…
Maybe I’ll never know the truth
Perhaps she was misguided by jealousy’s deprivation
Deteriorating heart’s splendor
While I fell in “like” with her
Perhaps “Better Man 2.0” appeared from Cloud 9’s fallacy
While I fell in “like” with her
Perhaps
She held onto the past
As I, drawn to waterfall’s edge
Allowed myself
To let go…and F
A
L
L
© Drake J. Eszes
“We adore those who hurt us. Yet, we hurt those who adore us.” -Anonymous
Two faithful souls stand listless in the great big tower
overlooking the stranded city that once stood tall
yearning for a quiet place to lay their heads
while far beyond the deserted land
a soft blue light gleams gracefully above tranquil skies,
dancing shadows rocking to midnight tunes,
and sweet melodies echoing from the gigantic moon.
She spans more than a thousand feet long soaking
up the exhausted earth, her immeasurable depths
cuts and carve through valleys and streams
with clear blue water and powdery white sand
what more could you ask for on that distant land.
They have been planning this trip for many years,
but when the time draws near their saving disappears.
An empty refrigerator with two trays of frozen ice
lean against the corner of the kitchen
in their ten bedroom mansion
and a bare pantry exposing a slice of mildew bread
filled with little mice nibbling and playing tug of war.
Not many people knew their story
they have been broke for twenty years
but lived a painful lie, cutting corners
making back door transaction,
eating lamb and turkey from profits
made from sordid deals.
Their empire that once stood tall hangs in dismay
While it watches the world going up in flame
by those who continue to play treacherous games.
Sobibor and Hiroshima horrors of the past
Should have cleared the way for a more sophisticated path
But now athoroughfare mixed with complexity
packed with insidiousness
have ducks walking around
quacking without wings or tails
They finally got an offer to go to Utopia.
with packed bags not a penny in their name,
they set off for Utopia hoping to find a new life again
but when they got their it was the same old begrimed game.
Their entire world has been shaken,
shaken by its own guilt and self-reproach,
the transgression that their ancestors have borne
have been handed down for generations to shoulder
A land that they believe was pure and holy
has turned into nightmare and horror
dreadful things dismount in dark corners
women raped strangers abused
yet religion forms the core of the throne
They have witnessed empires toppled,
Kingdoms have fallen in their sight
Rulers have shaken and wept bitterly
causing the great big god to balance the scale
but blackmail in Utopia remains a formidable game
©2013 Christine Phillips
“A Christmas Gift”
By: P. G. Borgia
For JP
1
An evening of peace, city streets still,
Snowflakes settle upon your windowsill.
Snuggled in your rocker, pleased to see
A day’s work of love, trimming your tree.
2
Fragrance of pine and lights pulsing bright,
Shining stars lighting a joyful night,
Red stockings hung with hidden treasure,
Toys piled high for a child’s pleasure.
3
Raising your glass to warm, glowing embers:
“Here’s to Santa—he always remembers.”
Your work complete, you begin to doze,
Grinning at the thought, teary eyes gently close.
4
With silence deep and wavering thoughts
Of times in your life happiness brought,
You hear again that soft solemn voice—
Quiet emotion—dry cheeks now moist.
5
You stir with unease, deep in a maze,
Though mercy is brief in slumber’s daze.
You drift into dreams of yesterday’s glee,
Seeking—a child’s voice, sadness-free.
6
Less than a wink, awakened by a tug,
Your child excited, giving you a hug:
“Look, look! Santa was here;
Presents and toys everywhere.”
7
“Can we open them now? Can we please?”
“If I get one more hug,” you playfully tease.
Another big hug — a sweet bribe for sure —
Moving hand-in-hand to gifts on the floor.
8
With a smiling peek at your child’s wide eyes,
Each present opened, another surprise.
Praising your Creator for what you are seeing,
A sense of warmth envelopes your being.
9
Gift wrap and ribbons scattered everywhere,
You quietly return to your rocking chair.
Your child stops playing, gazing up at you:
“Did Santa bring you a Christmas gift too?”
10
Drawing a smile with gleaming pride,
Your little angel moves to your side.
Searching your thoughts, as your lips quiver —
Moments of silence, memories flutter.
11
“Once upon a time, not so far away,
Santa brought presents on his reindeer sleigh.
One special gift was a stocking of cheer,
When gently I peeked, my eyes did tear.”
12
“For inside there you were, my beautiful babe,
A silent night of joy, pure love we gave.
And now, in my arms my gift softly sleeps,
Dreaming a child’s dream, in stillness deep.”
“To you, to us, and to those we've loved—
forever in our hearts.
A BLESSED MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL.”
© 2011 P. G. Borgia © rev 2024
“There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.” Shakespeare in Hamlet
**************************************************************
Augury
As the shine of the sun sets down
In the far away horizon
In villages as in the towns
And dusk stealthily makes its dawn,
The sky awhile pivots to pink
While clouds wafted by woeful winds
Seem in the firmament to blink
Racing across the sky with spleen.
Does the pink sky augur a storm,
Tempest, typhoon or tornado
That may buildings and trees deform
Without a tinkle of ado!
Does it herald devastation
Of fauna and flora on land,
Of harvest and cultivation
And rocking of boats on the sand!
Nature seems to have its own way
To admonish human beings
To hold their boats firmly at bay
And arouse their inner feelings
To keep those near and dear to them
In safety and security
Until the end of the mayhem
Heralded by the augury.
To scoff inklings of such omens
Is to invite spates of worries
From the clutches of a demon,
Let one`s ship sink in the deep sea,
Allow storms to set one`s house flat,
Disregard clues from the divine,
Let the wild winds whip off one`s hat
And snub signals from the sublime.
Exracted from Gerald Nforche's Epic, The Slave's Tale
-Across the Atlantic, 1793-
We cry out cursing to our very gods
Whilst mokala and plotters lead us in lots.
And slaves we have become, slaves we are groomed
And setting in the milken sky, is the moon.
This is the hell that befalls one’s prism
If he doesn’t open himself to pragmatism.
The ways of mokala are not our ways
And their days are never like our days.
Hope you fall in line with my tune’s knell
As it would guide souls to wisely dwell:
Now permit me continue with my sad tale
Before we are rapidly placed on sale.
For here I stand under an alien sun
Faraway from my own sweet land’s rung
Battered, chained to the queue’s label
As humans are placed on the auction table.
Here I proceed with my tale feeding you
With my pain, pains of brothers on cue
As they are sold off like fresh tobacco
Whips meeting flesh if anyone plays the hero.
***
Rocks! ebesse rocking, shaking like old
The chains cutting into arms, legs to mold
Croaks and groans climaxing to a sadistic rhythm
Beating us to yield forth into realism.
Light strained in through rat nibbled openings
Else we would have left the hold like blind goblins
Vicious to the point of abandonment
Scuffling for blood, mokala’s disbursement.
Aided by the scurrying light, my head worked
East, west, south and north, on shoulders, rocked-
Acquainting itself with the crampy hold
Taking in every detail for any bolt.
In long prodigious rows we humans lay
Meditating, some wide-eyed not to say
Tear tracks dry on their black paling cheeks.
They now submissive despite the reeks.
A cough here, a huff there. A groan here
A croak there. A curse far afield, a stifle near.
A prayer whimpered here, a shiver rippling
There. A horrid sight it was, a grappling.
That pungent stench, from decaying beings:
Men awake whilst parts decayed in rings.
I was nauseated, my eyes reeling, pained
My stomach flaring to throw up content.
And there they ran, hiking on heaving bodies
Playing hide-and seek- on chained enemies.
Tossing about, screeching on their suppers-
Causing a kick here, shrieks there, left-overs.
And my groans joined the choir, a dirge
Loud to fissure walls, and seditious to merge
Vocal forces to kill, kill! Kill! No shy-
And we’d die sober, die! Die! Die!
my arms wrapped around you
warm to the touch
only on thing on my mind
i love you so much
my hand connects with yours
my arms wrapped around yo
draw you in closer
soft and smooth to the touch
as we lay there
theres no moment in time that has meant so much
your body seems to mix with mine
quickly churning all the feelings i have inside
my hands caress your body
you stir, open you eyes with your sexy smile
sunlight streaks across your face
giving you that look of even higher grace
rubbing your back at such a slow pace
giving you time to recooperate
time to breathe
time to wake
i knew this was no mistake
all the feelings i feel are real
teasing me with a passion
all is said and done- for now
our love will never end
not now, nor then
later tonight
the same will occur
i'll walk through the door
being making dinner
take a shower
wait till you arrive
take your coat off your shoulders
take off the weight that feels like boulders
kiss you hello
you know, nice and slow?
reach for your hand
lead you to dinner
a meal of such delight
already thinking to yourself, "i'll sleep well tonight"
i wash the dishes
you take your shower
we'll meet in the bedroom
and kiss the night away
let me caress your body
tell me all about your day
slip out of your clothes
kiss you all over from head to toe
slide under the covers
bodies mixing
bending and twisting
let our acts of love bellow through the air
the night goes on
but alas
theres so much to be done
smooth and creamy
sweet and filling
our movements slow down
catching our breath
our hunger way beyond being met
you unwind
i pull you closer
deeper and deeper until slumber is met
sighing contently
i kiss your forhead
you stir and steal my thought
i love you
both steamy and hott
kissing you gently
saying it back
you close your eyes for the night
rocking you slowly back and forth
my love
my heart
my soul
no greater truth be told
i begin to drift away into sleep
our dog curling up on our bed by our feet
another day is done
another night well spent
but alas this is not the end
just the end of round one.
Big trucks rolling down the market street
blowing their horn in the crowded street
Big trucks going around, I have no clue where they are bound, they swirl and turn rocking the people`s nerve, big horn, big man with little wisdom compiled in their head.The truck is bigger than the street and it swallow up everything that
it meets, competition is so sweet and it can drag you out in the middle of the street. It can back
you up into the corner,and it can make you listen
to a careless whisper, big trucks will make you linger.The street is narrow, the street is short but the big truck has swallow it all, a show of talent, a show of strength will make is rocking the street until it is bent.The fellow is hanging on the side of the truck, the driver is pressing the gas more and the people are mocking and jeer asking and asking for more. I sat at the garbage can observing the recklesness of man.The truck, the man, and the courage of the pennyless man walking around kitchen street begging a dollar to buy something to eat while big tucks without goods roaming aimlessly through the little town galivanting up and down.What is the purpose of this daily fleet going around in the street, to say who is working and who is giving the order,
what a waste of talent, what a waste of strength
the game is one again and they are going to play
it until they are dead.They know that their contracts are up and they are and they are all out
of luck.See them comming from all corners and the time is getting shorter,and their base gets smaller.They are giving up their loyality to take a chance with the royality, they will take a chance at something new and they have considered it through and through.The sun has dissapeared underneath the clouds on a new mission for the earth.It is comming closer to you and you must review in through and through and through.Big truck crawling like ant, big trucks waiting at the ports, big trucks loaded with dirt, big trucks in the showcase, make your choice before it is too late. Big trucks is waiting for you big trucks will cause misery for me and you overturn the red and white dump truck in the middle of the wasteland and get the occult people out of the land.Big trucks are on the detour road, big trucks are running out of gas, big trucks have lost their contracts, big trucks are struggling on the makeshift road.
Big trucks rolling down the market street
blowing their horn in the crowded street
Big trucks going around, I have no clue where they are bound, they swirl and turn rocking the people`s nerve, big horn, big man with little wisdom compiled in their head.The truck is bigger than the street and it swallow up everything that
it meets, competition is so sweet and it can drag you out in the middle of the street. It can back
you up into the corner,and it can make you listen
to a careless whisper, big trucks will make you linger.The street is narrow, the street is short but the big truck has swallow it all, a show of talent, a show of strength will make is rocking the street until it is bent.The fellow is hanging on the side of the truck, the driver is pressing the gas more and the people are mocking and jeer asking and asking for more. I sat at the garbage can observing the recklesness of man.The truck, the man, and the courage of the pennyless man walking around kitchen street begging a dollar to buy something to eat while big tucks without goods roaming aimlessly through the little town galivanting up and down.What is the purpose of this daily fleet going around in the street, to say who is working and who is giving the order,
what a waste of talent, what a waste of strength
the game is one again and they are going to play
it until they are dead.They know that their contracts are up and they are and they are all out
of luck.See them comming from all corners and the time is getting shorter,and their base gets smaller.They are giving up their loyality to take a chance with the royality, they will take a chance at something new and they have considered it through and through.The sun has dissapeared underneath the clouds on a new mission for the earth.It is comming closer to you and you must review in through and through and through.Big truck crawling like ant, big trucks waiting at the ports, big trucks loaded with dirt, big trucks in the showcase, make your choice before it is too late. Big trucks is waiting for you big trucks will cause misery for me and you overturn the red and white dump truck in the middle of the wasteland and get the occult people out of the land.Big trucks are on the detour road, big trucks are running out of gas, big trucks have lost their contracts, big trucks are struggling on the makeshift road.