Long Role Poems
Long Role Poems. Below are the most popular long Role by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Role poems by poem length and keyword.
Did zest for life have a term until dialectal?
What comes before the numeral mystical?
Only God can discern my soul name.
He counts our hair and the sand with kame.
I grasp to worship his name as a young soul.
To be grateful and to sue God for his role.
I was raised to shimmer and shine as a juvenile.
Echoing his faith and leniency and being luminal.
I tried to be aware of the ocean's load.
It had to endure scraping at the sand.
Then spoke something in a hushed tone.
And I knew all that before, from the stone.
When the lights dim owing to the fading sun.
Ideas that once helped now steer you to stun!
When tragedy begins to veer toward standing.
Don't miss that a good mood is all you entail having.
Written: February 09, 2022
As noses go, I’d say mine is okay
if it is viewed by someone from the front.
But if you look at it another way,
it’s not so wonderful; let me be blunt.
My nose is long, and if you’re in a place
where other women are along with me,
take note of how my nose fits on my face.
Sideways it could be the longest you’ll see.
.
Imagine please, if you will, a Roman nose,
which means a nose that is a little bent.
A nicer-sounding word for it I suppose
is “aquiline.” But what by that is meant?
For me, the word “aquiline” sounded chic.
But then I looked it up and got a shock.
I learned it means shaped like an eagle’s beak,
which is also larger than that of a hawk.
What in my DNA presupposes
that I have Italian blood, which I have not?
Most of my sisters have short, cute noses.
Why is it that a Roman nose I got?
Few great actresses have a nose like mine,
but I can think of one whose look is great.
Barbara Streisand – is her nose divine?
That’s a nose folks either love or hate!
That bump - that famous bump! Streisand never
had plastic surgery to make it small.
My role model is she. I endeavor
to love my nose. It stands out – after all!
*"Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." Proverbs 3:5-6 of King James Bible
Claiming God’s favor everyday
My soul does seek heavenly ray…
Divine flame functionally shines
And faith beholds miracle signs.
Scheduled plans, though prayed for truly
Sometimes can change so suddenly
Causing angst, confronting my role…
Yet flame of peace comforts the soul.
As internet glitches cause frown
Bringing stress from toes toward crown…
My frustration angsts escalate
Then child laugh-flame makes woes deflate.
Health conscious --- that’s me, I confess
Treating self with gracious duress…
When I get sick, body does rest
Needing strength flames toward work zest.
When busy midst tasks to fulfill
Adrenalin ascends uphill…
Phone rings for a chat delightful
Marked by “The Lord is so faithful.”
With interference-radiance
By the Holy Ghost’s sweet guidance…
I’m preserved, so well-protected
Thankful, sublimely elated.
Listening to the Scriptures preached
My spirit is ardently reached
Since the Lord talks to me, His child
Leading through love, graciously styled
Flame of hope for tenacious stand
Keeps me warm daily in God’s hand
Showing goodness of Almighty
I trust* upon truth’s certainty.
June 22, 2023
1st place, "Writing Challenge - F Words" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 6/23/2023.
Ah my friends please lend an ear,
I have a secret I must share.
When the sun goes down at night
and the moon is in full sight,
I dim the lights, turn off the phone,
slip into bed, but not alone.
For when I crawl between the sheets
it is with Byron, Shelley, and Keats.
Shelley makes me a wanton soul,
ever playing the lover's role.
When I'm wrapped in Byron's prose
the fervor penned curls my toes.
I'm up 'til the stars are at sleep.
Keats words of beauty make me weep.
I have this need I can't deny
that makes me keep a poet nigh.
When I close the book at last
there are no shadows to be cast.
For I have wiled away the hours
enthralled with the poet's powers.
I am in my life’s October,
Where passion plays its role
And when embers of my memory stir,
Their sparks engulf me whole.
They help me to remember,
And soothe my bereaved soul.
Mellow memories imbue my life.
And I will never let them go.
Her love embraces me like lambskin gloves.
Oh God! I miss her so…I miss her so.
Why Fate takes ones I love,
I’ll never, never know.
Why did she have to go,
Leaving my soul strafed with strife?
She haunts me so. . . She haunts me so.
Though wounded, I’m still alive.
And, like Orpheus, I’m longing for lost love
While memory’s embers keep it alive.
She was much more than a wife
When her soul left me behind.
I’m wandering through our former life,
And among its memories, I’m trying to find,
A way forward through my forlorn life
That can mend my grieving mind.
Then again, maybe she never really left,
But became the better part of me.
Maybe she’s soothing my soul, though still bereft,
And trying to heal my heart for me.
Take her away, and all that’s left,
Is the shell of a man that others see.
Memories of her, like tender tears,
Soothe my soul on dour days,
And when life seems bleak and full of fears,
She tenderly lifts me above life’s fray.
And like lambent embers not drowned by tears,
She stays. . .and stays. . .and stays.
Once a poet is done psychically with his or her craft
With the vernacular of his or her masterpieces
It’s the role of the readers to add mentally missing pieces
Parts, ideas, images, a few words and a sophisticated shaft
To mechanize, modernize or upgrade the messages
A poem is, of course, a piece of writing in process
It’s a bubbling melting pot, where many things are amiss
For many logical or purposeful reasons and for excuses
Which are existentially beyond the scope of countless texts
Poets are generally perplexed and write under pretenses or pretexts.
Copyright © March 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Being your daughter has been an incredible gift.
You and Dad have given me such a wonderful life.
I know that, before me, your lives seemed to be adrift,
But, because of you, I am a mother and a wife.
You both raised me with nothing but happiness and love
And now I get to pass on that warmth to my child.
She’s a part of this family that fits like a glove.
That was obvious from the first time that she smiled.
You get to watch your grandchild live a life of fun.
She will follow in your footsteps and learn from the best.
With role models like you two, she has already won.
She’ll be a champion in life, above all the rest.
It’s time to wake up from the dream of what could have been.
The reality is that you were just selfish and scared.
I guess life doesn’t go on… as you proved way back when
Aborting me for no reason showed how much you cared.
It might look convincing
But I just don’t feel it anymore
When people talk about it
I don’t feel it anymore
The rhythmic blows don’t hit home
The sounds are all spent
Just hollow, the refrain
It doesn’t mean a thing
I don’t think it ever did
The beating of your heart
Is not a conduit anymore
It’s like walking a labyrinth
Wall to wall
On a path to nowhere
'Cause this heart don’t beat,
This heart don’t beat,
This heart don’t beat for you anymore
You don’t need to feel it
‘Cause it’s written all o’er my face
It’s not like I planned it
It’s just the way things ended
Hearts can’t be dictated
I’m sorry if this hurts
But I can’t play this role no more
I’m sorry if I’m breaking your heart
The beating of your heart
Is not a conduit anymore
It’s like walking a labyrinth
From wall to wall
On a path to nowhere
‘Cause this heart don’t beat,
This heart don’t beat,
This heart don’t beat for you anymore
Saying I don’t feel it
Boils down to conviction
The moving signs are everywhere
It’s clear like daylight
My heart refuses to beat for you
The beating of your heart
Is not a conduit anymore
It’s like walking a labyrinth
From wall to wall
On a path to nowhere
‘Cause this heart don’t beat,
This heart don’t beat,
This heart don’t beat for you anymore
*THIS TRAIN DON’T STOP THERE ANYMORE BY ELTON JOHN*
Contest: Dear John
Placed: 7th
© All Rights Reserved
Lament of my life
If something I could do
to change this world,
A drop in ocean although
must have changed some hues ...
Learnings in time
all through and through,
Knowledge attained
was far from real life basic needs, but
Wasted were many years
searching the unseen,
while simple facts apparent
I took to closed eyes,
Had I fed the poor,
Had I educated their kids,
Had I known their grief
The hunger, the poverty
in itself graver than disease,
Inequality a silent killer,
Had I applied balm to the bruised souls,
rather than just curing an ailment.
Maybe it's time to change
and feed my soul's hunger,
A change of a doc's role,
turning cards to a social healer,
Try cure the problem, wholesome
living in content for a cause !
Written March 17th, 2016
For contest "Lament of your life" by Casarah
They tell me I must not share this secret
I have discovered after so much searching
I must keep it to myself lest I spoil
the twist that takes place three quarters
of the way through as if life is little more
than a movie and I an actress cast
in a starring role forced by the studio
to sign an NDA in my blood stating
I sacrifice my soul to Hades and give my
body up to be ripped to shreds by the
sharp teeth of the three heads of Cerberus
if I dare to have the audacity to violate it
So I seat myself silently at a table in a library
or at a bus stop or a train station
or on a bench in a park where parents
watch over their children as they play
flipping through old photo albums
filled with pictures of people who
have long since passed away along
with places which no longer exist today
showing them to anyone that sits down
beside me before asking if they recognize
any of the many they see then when they
invariably answer, “No. What does it matter?”
I reply, “Exactly”