Long Sappy Poems
Long Sappy Poems. Below are the most popular long Sappy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sappy poems by poem length and keyword.
Why do you always look at me
With that question in your eyes
The one that always wonders
How come you never try
Why can’t you just go exercise
Your face is filled with doubt
You shake your head and wonder
What do you have to be depressed about
You have a job
You have wealth
You have a family
You have your health
Go watch a funny movie
Or read a funny book
Change your way of thinking
Clean your house or cook
Lace up your dusty sneakers
Go walk around the lake
I’m sure to God you will feel better
If my advice you would only take
I have a lot of patience
For you my dearest friend
A lack of understanding
Makes it hard to comprehend
It’s not a way of thinking
It doesn’t come from any place
The loss of feeling in my life
Takes up a gigantic space
The things that you find so easy
Are the things that make me blue
To ask me to forget that I am sad
Is liking asking me to remember someone I never knew
It’s not a situation
It’s not anything I control
It’s not my choice to wake up
Trapped in this black hole
Sometimes my thoughts are anxious
Sometimes my heart is faint
The color of distress in my body
I will never be able to paint
Sometimes it’s hard to breathe
Sometimes it’s all a test
Sometimes it’s hard to hold the hand
Of the person you love the best
Some days feel like a battle
Some days feel like a chore
Some days you stop to wonder
Will I ever win this war
So as you read this poem
My sneakers I will take
And I will force my body
To walk around the lake
I will have a beautiful smile
For everyone I meet
I will look them in the eyes
And never miss a beat
No one will be the wiser
No one will think I am sappy
I will leave them all wondering
Why is she so happy?
So the next time that you look at me
With that question in your eyes
Think to yourself I am happy for her
Look how hard she tries
The overlapping of me and us three
Of who I was and who I turned out to be
I never ever felt I was good enough
Or tuff enough to deal with that stuff
Gentleness inside grew like a flower
by day by night hour by hour
Yet I’m not some shrinking violet
I did not could not would not cower
I allowed soft to become my superpower
No bitter bone or heart like stone
A soft voice without the sappy happy tone
Those who need me won’t be left all alone
My minds not made to be judgmental
even when others might feel anger prone
So I’m okay with me
and who you two became too
We each have our ways to be true
I’m thankful we escaped our blue
Finding our best way through
We are more than what we were
or even all the things we’ve done or do
Nothing is everything
Thankfully overlapping old ways
make way for the new.
Myself an my siblings each dealt with the trauma of our childhood in our own ways. When I was younger I had trouble accepting their different ways. Time is a lense that helps us view the past with more clarity.
Are you chameleons, dearest leaves?
Stealing colors of amber, like thieves;
Hiding pure gold dusts within, sometimes,
Putting on crimson shown like sun-shines...!
Birds, dear, from for lands! Don't go away!
You're nature's pleasure; kindly do stay!
Nightingales, cuckoos, swifts, and cranes,
Tell us, time-to-time, your inner pains...!
Blackberries, rose-hips and crab apples,
Laced with vivacious cocktail samples;
Ivies, yet, seem to start flowering,
Your scent, like clear cologne, hovering...!
Seeds! Fallen like very falls of Christ!
Though within womb of earth, iced and sliced;
Will resurrect and resuscitate,
Ascend toward ethereal state...!
I sense you, dear autumn, you tickle,
Each vein of heart and mind, you prickle;
Falling of leaves makes me unhappy,
I know, they'd spring greenish and sappy...!
20 August 2022
Hint of Autumn Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
I’m a hopeless romantic
Now please cut me some slack
Yes, there’s more to this life
Than love’s beaten track
I just can’t write about fish
And I can’t write of the farm
I can’t write about frogs
For me that holds not a charm
I can’t write about wars
And I can’t write about keys
I can’t write of history
Go easy on me, please!
Yes, I guess I’m limited
Stuck in mediocrity
I’m trying to be diverse
It falls flat, can’t you see?
So I write tales of love
And I write about passion
Can’t write about trends
Or the latest fashion
I write about suicide
And I write of addiction
I write about my life
Not some sort of fiction
I write about my daughter
And I write about hubby
I write how much I suffer
To be thin and not chubby
I write about God
And I write about heaven
But can’t write about 9
Much less about seven
So please hear what I say
What you all write is grand
It’s just not my way
I’m stuck in love’s brand
I’m cheesy, I’m sappy,
Dripping with goo and such
But this hopeless romantic
Loves your poems so much!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
"If having a sense of humor is considered crazy,
tell me I'm zany before you walk out my door."
~ by poet
My poetic friends are very zany
Their humor indicates they are brainy
Limericks they oft' write
Bring laughter to the site
They are rays of sunshine when it's rainy
Zaniness is an art that gives pleasure
Such quirky talent goes beyond measure
Their farcical style
Makes many of us smile
Witty minds are valued as a treasure
Labeled bizarre, whimsical, or sappy
Zany cockamamy makes us happy
They take away a frown
When we are feeling down
Even if their limericks are crappy
I'm sharing a secret confession
About my loving sweet affection
That you brought into my heart
Giving me a brand new start
To a life you made much better
Each day my eyes get much wetter
With the tears of joy I cry
As my mind is asking why
You chose me to make so happy
I know it sounds really sappy
To confide and reveal
My emotions -- how I feel
I can't keep them deep inside
When both of our hearts collide
Causing a big crash of love
Connected like two happy doves
Flying free on joyful wings
In a cloud free sky that brings
Sunny rays of warmth and light
Keeping both our days so bright
The heebie-jeebies came by to play.
I promptly shooed them straight away.
Come on they said as they jiggled and jived.
But my long-awaited guest had just arrived.
Hey! What is happening? She asked with pure happy.
It’s the heebie-jeebies, kind of fun and sappy.
I recognize them now! She said as she began to dance.
We have them back home in England, Spain and France.
We danced down the sidewalk, onto the round moon.
We boogied so hard, my chest began to quake and swoon.
Heebie-jeebies said “Hey, folks, let’s go to Saturn!”
We shimmy shook; a pretty sweet dancing pattern.
Another dancer asked, “Are we limited to one universe now?”
Heebie-jeebies said “Come. You’ll think this is a wow!”
We jiggled our keisters all the way to another galaxy.
This is how dynamically persuasive Heebie-Jeebies can be!
Swirling wisps mount the horizon
Cresting over their funnel spouts
Steaming ground-swells incubate on earth's oven
Thermal currents surge upward through the convector
Cooling reams ballast the sides descending the shaft
Energizing columns fueling the expanding balloon
Cooling and condensing into droplets of dew sublime
Pairing together in cacophonous chorus ascending briny ladder
Billowy bowls fill with sappy streams of bliss
Bulging at seams, burst, spewing torrents of angry tears
Gushing waterfalls cascade in a tumult through the jaded prism
Schizophrenic remnants clash; their titan charges pulsing fire
Cymbals clang as the lightening attack shocks the airy ramparts
Earth's thirsty crust satiated with the inundating flow
Boisterous tides rill disbursing indiscriminately
Bartered tears with your love adorn
Twin streams from pure, spring founts born
Sappy pores gushing with showers of contrition on christening morn
Exchanged with vows that o'er time were weathered and torn
Briny waves of doubt crested; fealties' banks shorn
Now bottled memories silted with salty tears forlorn
Eroding tear ducts inundated and with passing time worn
Brackish vapor distilled with rotting dreams; with nauseous fumes borne
Corroded promises mired in a dry bed of scorn
Cloaked in callous foliage spited with thistle and thorn
Meeting at the jaded fork; once vibrant streams solemnly mourn
Stagnant puddles awaiting reincarnation; at next season's fertile rains reborn
Every souper has poetic talent, I can't ignore and
the list of my favourite poets is long enough
and it's too tough to choose
Only One as very Special.
Yet, if to select the Special Poet
the first name that promptly flashed
in my mind
is Hilo Poet, a loving chap,
though a generation gap
persisting between us.
I am genuine admirer of him.
His creation, theme, style allure me
touching core of mind.
Sometimes his technique seems unique
Over all, I am charmed with most of his poems
claiming specific significance.
I can feel his compassionate generous heart
and cherish adoration for his outlooks and ideas.
Once he was absent in PS page for a long period
I missed him lot
As he was seen again, I rejoiced and wished to voice loud
‘Welcome Back.’
I specifically enjoy the Contests sponsored by him,
mostly demanding instant appeal.
I feel happy and sappy to accept those catchy concepts.
After all Hilo Poet is very Dear to me.