Long Sadold Poems
Long Sadold Poems. Below are the most popular long Sadold by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sadold poems by poem length and keyword.
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PREFACE :
an old swing that once seated life now lays abandoned, encompassed within the
confinement of wild,unkept backyard the old man is left with. for a person, who has
been through every flavour of life, using this swing is a respite- a getaway from his
aloofness. And, more than that
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There's a swing in the backyard, that lies unkept, hidden
that breathes through its cracks, yet remains dust laden
it glides through the wild growths, the over-grown weeds,
fireflies..in a cluster follow it along..as the wooden swing leads
it touches the farthest twig of the tree..that extends to the starry sky
leaping over the patches of green..witnessing the silence cry
at night, the swing comes to life, when it occupies a lonesome soul.
miles and high, it takes him along...and then, the memories unfold!
the crimson memories flare up, come to life.
and he's now amidst his childhood, its little games..and little lies
but soon the mortal cloud of his memories break, and it begins to rain
his watering-nostalgic eyes get so over-drenched ..that it seems hard to bear the
pain
another push, and the swing glides yet again.
and now he(the person) is pushed back to the time..when he was slender, young
and sane.
those perfect strong shoulders, and a grit that cuts through steel
soak him up in pride, as so empowered he feels.
and then, again..the swing ceases to glide..
his memories begin to fade away..like on the sand, a relentless ocean tide.
he catches his breath, as he prepares for one last ride
he thrusts his feet onto the grassy patch, and there he goes again...he watches the
swing taking him, rise.
but this time, he laments the losses he has had, the times that could've been better
the midnight moon penetrates through leaves, and on his swing it seems to scatter
comes to a halt, eventually..his swing. his memories have made him hollow
yet, another night...he'll kill his sleep, riding on the swing..shall rather watch the
fireflies follow.
Form:
He sat down with a pen and paper,
to write a letter in the heats vapor.
His wife at home tending to the kids,
fighting a war the UN forbids.
His convoy was ready, about to leave,
survival was low as his heart grieved.
The convoy was attacked, wiped out clean,
his body found holding Kathleen.
The photo was burned within his hands,
the government followed his commands.
“If in the event that I am gone,
deliver this note before next dawn. “
The military kept to this wish,
delivered the note on a silver dish.
When she saw it she broke down and cried,
as she read it her soul just died.
“If this note is delivered to you,
then the end of my life is true.
I will always love you that’s for sure,
As I wait beside heaven’s door.
I won’t go in the city above,
I want to enter with my true love.
So don’t you worry about me,
the difference is my soul is now free.
Tell the kids their daddy loves them,
it’s not your fault please don’t condemn.
For only when the time is right,
will you sprout wings and take flight.
I will be waiting for you to come,
and tell our girl stop sucking her thumb.
Make sure they know who their daddy was,
and watch our dog the small ball of fuzz.
Sorry I didn’t make it back,
I know I promised you and Jack.
He is old enough to understand,
we can’t see the Braves like we planned.
Make sure you take care of them for me,
and take them to our old tree.
I love you baby even now,
I will watch over you that’s my vow.”
By: Nathan Bane Leccese
© All Rights Reserved 05/23/2009
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*Inspired by the song "If You're Reading This" by Tim McGraw
For "Music to Your Pen" Poetry Contest
The old man sat with eyes closed, dozing in his chair
Until a little voice he heard say “Grandpa, are you there”.
He gazed upon a little boy while waking from his nap
Then reached down with a sweeping move and placed him in his lap
The child was carrying a book that he wanted him to see
He held it up and asked him “Grandpa, will you read to me”?
The old man cleaned his glasses then opened up the book
And suddenly the two of them a wonderous journey took
They ventured lands so far away, sailed seas not sailed before
Met knights and kings and wizards on every distant shore.
Together they fought dragons, saved damsels in distress
Freeing lands of monsters and the treasures they possess
When the old man closed the cover to end their magic ride
He told the boy “We're much like books, what's important is inside”.
But one day when the boy arrived and rushed to Grandpas chair
Much to his disappointment, his Grandpa was not there
He ran to find his mother for surely she would know
Why the chair was empty, where did his Grandpa go
She sat him down and asked him if he remembered in each book
The adventures and the journeys that he and Grandpa took
He took you there to show you the things that you can find
The wonders that are yours to see if you open up your mind.
But he still walks beside you in the stories you have read
You're not left to go alone, he’s just gone on ahead
The child then went and chose a book and climbed up in the chair
And opening up the cover whispered “Grandpa, are you there”?
Our country needs to return to its roots and rekindle old flames,
Grab on to those old values and uphold those sacred names.
If our founding fathers could see the moral decline we have allowed to take place,
They would call us traitors and a land that has fallen from grace.
Our values have declined so that we allow any and all evil to delegate their will,
I for one am sick of it and totally have had my fill.
Christians we are the majority, yet we let the minority dictate to us the way it will be,
Then if this is truly a democracy then it’s time we say enough and let the world see.
Let’s put back into play what has made America the greatest country ever known,
And pray to God that He will forgive us and let His mercies be shown.
We must quickly turn from this path that leads to destruction and ruin,
And set our eyes on the prize and realize the things we are doing.
Our young ones are growing up in a society that has become numb to the truth,
We are to blame for allowing this to happen and it’s wrong and uncouth.
Gay marriages, abortions, when and where will it end?
We have gotten off course and one day God’s wrath, He will send.
Search your heart, search your soul and you will know these words speak true,
This is our country and our children and we are responsible for the things we do.
I love the Lord, I love this country and I pray for my fellow man,
And I know Americans can make it right, I know they can!
Goodbye baby Eric
My cute but troublesome boy
Goodbye to little David
You boys gave me such joy
Bye to Frenchie Laura
With your honestly like no other
Bye to my Auntie Pearl
Who was like a second mother
Goodbye to my zealous Uncle
Always encouraging
And Michael too, who always lifted up
When times were discouraging
Goodbye to my Talo
My partner in crime
But always, at the end of the day
These mountains, together, we’d climb
Goodbye to Heather
Worthy of imitation
And my good friend, Devin
To whom I’d vent out my frustration
Bye little Andrea
My cute and lovable friend
Who always rooted for me
Right down to the end
And bye to good ol’ Dano
Distant, but always close
A man who chose spiritual things
Although some would always oppose
Goodbye to my little sisters
Alexa, Zoe, and Sophia too
Goodbye to my service partners
From the young and old crew
Bye to ol’ Danny boy
My big brother bear,
Whose one and only request
Was that I don’t forget prayer
Goodbye Jen to the fur,
Irene, and my Grace face
Goodbye to all the wonderful people
In my life, I can’t replace
Bye to my old friend Stacy,
A sweet & funny girl
Goodbye even to my EX’s
Who at one time made my heart swirl
Goodbye to the J boys
And their mama too
There are many names unmentioned
But trust me, I haven’t forgotten you
(and the list continues...)
An intense aroma from Mother's lilac bushes
satiate the air through our open kitchen window
Robins perched on the rusty downspout
falling from our old front porch,
whistling their sound of peek, tut, peek, tut
Melancholy music is perceived faintly
in the very near distance
as my mother's fingers effortlessly
surf the ivory keys of the piano,
decades old and perfectly tuned
Daddy reclines, comfortable
in his easy chiar, listening. He smokes
cherry blend tobacco in a hand-carved pipe
creating an intithetic, lincering aroma
as he sips his after dinner drink
Too many whisley laden drinks
change the focus of events
as my Father stands up, curses
his dislike of a tune being played
He stumbles, raises an empty
bottle of Jim Beam Whiskey,
throwing it against the wall,
shattering it into small jagged pieces
Quicly, Mother's music ceases,
as the open window slams
shut, breaking the stained glass
that she loved so dearly
Soothing sounds and aromas of flowering
spring bushes no longer hover
but a repugnant smell of tobacco
and hard liquor remain
Sometimes I try and remember
the flowery smells, soft musical sounds -
but abruptly, I hear that colorful window
quickly close
Oh, how rapidly a serene mood is erased,
replaced by one of uneasiness, sadness
The dreams come along, hand in hand.
Wait for the dreamer to come again.
Watch as the grass is blown and the leaves made fall,
And the dead memories collect at my feet.
Once in every little while the dreamers would come again.
Now just one is left,
For there are no others with the compassion and imagination to dream
For the world has stopped turning,
For the fire keeps on burning in their souls hotter now than ever before.
But this one is a little boy who will pick up anything.
Any dream that comes his way, he will dream it again.
Now he’s an old man and there’s just one dream left.
He goes to his world, Dream’s World, every night to dream.
He’s nearly there, but he falls down, weary and bleeding.
Will nobody help the poor old man?
Suddenly he sees a blood red stream, and next to it lies a bottle of purple potion.
He crawls over to drink this concoction, his last hope.
He lifts the bottle to his lips to take a sip, and the last dream calls out in warning.
But it’s too late for Dream, the last dreamer,
It’s too late for a happy ending, he already drank the poison.
Now the last dream is stuck forever, no dreamers will ever come again.
There’s no story left to tell so I guess it’s safe to say that this is the end.
Walks down by the harbor.
That cafe where are table still waits.
Times spent alone with you were golden.
So much more than just forgettable dates.
She knew what I could not understand.
Time is a gift.
A kiss of a raindrop is never ment to be kept in hand.
The steps of that old church still look out onto
the street.
Snow and time wash away the impressions.
Leaving only traces to every stranger I never truly meet.
Did it just disappear causing us to somehow lose track.
Does it seem pathetic.
To yern for all you'll never get back.
Couples see through me as easily as a ghost.
Maybe I should ramble.
But my soul will forever be attached to the coast.
Forgotten confessions are empty as to the city streets I tell.
How the young become old and bitter.
As reality shines through to show Im no longer under your spell.
For the night seems to gather the broken in a misfit pack.
Streetlights cast shadows that loom and hide.
As into a stranger I confide.
Dull has become the wit once sharp as a tack.
As I wonder do you ever reflect apon all you'll never get back.
I'm saying goodbye, to our same old story.
When I see you cry, can't help but to say I'm sorry.
This last time, I'll kiss you away.
This last rhyme, written for you today.
You broke me down, time and again.
In these tears I'll drown, for sorrow will win.
I've finally left you, our picture torn in two.
Now my pain is through, nothing you can do.
I see your ghost, your silohuette.
Your miseries host, all those times I regret.
Yet I keep thinking, about that face.
My heart keeps sinking, for the memories won't erase.
Saying goodbye, to our same old story.
When I see you cry, I no longer say sorry.
Our colors have faded, to a solemn gray.
I've asphyxiated, for this is love's way.
I am falling apart, until this ends.
We knew efrom the start, of our time being friends.
Your seasons change without me, yet I don't know why.
Saying sorry, but I have to say goodbye.
I'll lie in the dark dreams, of sweet calamity.
I'm torn by my seams, for you never said sorry.
I'll lie in the peace, of loving animosity.
I feel life's release, as I die solemnly.
People has been looking for the fountain,
Of youth since the beginning of time.
With all the clues and guessing answers.
Just puddles of waters and a waste of many lives.
It was written in a riddle That no one cared to find.
Then the old riddle was framed for many years unfound.
The riddle said it was in a cave two miles down.
Once they found the spot the cave was covered with rock.
But in the riddle the cave only opens at 3:00
We waited till three then the cave open remarkably
It was pitch dark black we lit lanterns to see where we were at.
Finely they can see water and see light the mushrooms and flowers
Were all great delights.
The old man wizard ask how old she was.
42 se said. Take off your cloths and walked through the falls.
To he surprised her answered and love has jus been called.
She called down to her husband To walk through the falls.
He refused to Walk through he rather be old after all.
She did this all for him now she realize.
He blew his life for another woman.