Long Sentence Poems
Long Sentence Poems. Below are the most popular long Sentence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sentence poems by poem length and keyword.
Im just a single word floating around in this guys head .
Usauly there is music but today its us words instead.
Floating with the other words here in his mind.
When he needs us we are easy for him to find.
He picks us out one at a time
Hope he picks me to become a rhyme
He does this really good.
Alone we are never understood.
For now im floating here not being heard.
Thats hard when your a word
We are nothing till in a sentence we are said.
So ill drive him crazy when he goes to bed.
He'll get up just to write us down
Cause in words he feels he may drown.
sometimes late into the night.
You can see his light
He is doung it all the time
Making us words into a rhyme
If you say us fast we become rap.
Just dont use me in one that sounds like crap
Ill be happy if a poem i become.
Cause its his heart ill be from.
To be in a book
How good I'll look
Thats what i want to be.
Written down for all to see.
Yeah, thats how I want it for me.
10/14/21
Everything follows you home,
Your skin is denying,
The usual monochrome,
For grip marks applying,
The shell of your catacomb.
Parts are tempted to find out,
The severity of,
Anything I’m forced to doubt,
For the sake of our love,
Entwined in roots yet to sprout.
Gesture or reason won’t sway,
Expel every sentence,
Justifications convey,
Your pleas for repentance,
In the complete wrong way.
You’re useless as a disgrace,
And cliché as lovers,
I don’t need to see a trace,
Your dress barely covers,
Areas that aren’t my place.
This betrayal severs my spine,
My newfound awareness,
Lowers me down from your vine,
And into the bareness,
Of a concrete chalk outline.
Quintain (Sicilian) - Emile Pinet
There are many "cures" for depression, some of them are drugs from a pharmacist, and others are creations by a loving God.
Surmounting feelings of depression-caused sorrow
Let's seek the Saviour along hopeful glow
Striving to overcome woes with their oppressive blow
To soar for triumph* today and tomorrow.
Doing our best to conquer depression bouts
By responsible use of therapeutic drugs with faith, no doubts
We hold on to God’s assurance, expressing praise-shouts
Hoisted for divine freedom from misery-clouts.
Trusting God for peace and strength along depression-race
Cheered through His goodness, we move on and strongly face
Grim realities midst His guidance full of abundant grace
As He lets us enjoy His nature's beauty, enveloping our space.
Now winning against grievous depression-torture
We thank the Lord for His healing love's cure
Giving us families, friends, and even pets for our companion-venture
While we also reach-out to others with glad helping gesture.
*2Corinthians 2:14 Now thanks [be] unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place.
October 21, 2023
10th place, "Pick a topic sentence" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Miranda Hawley; judged on 10/26/2023
What's behind the terse, unspoken sound
One that abruptly inserted a period
Invoking a sigh in the middle of a sentence
Was it the uneasy voice of her heart's lyrics
Announcing your song is still incomplete
Or ambivalence of despondent music
Reluctantly strumming devoid of melody
Perhaps it’s time for your bashful words
To complement echo of the unsung verse
Disclosing explicitly to her anxious world:
You saw it in the smile of her cheerful eyes
And heard it from symphony of dulcet vibes
And felt it in the ballet of her delicate touch
When she held you close in an intimate hug
While mellifluous whispers of love spoke
December 8, 2021
In the hidden realm, seeker of mysteries,
Where do you float, my boundless Origin?
Like a falling star, you bestowed upon me
A fragment of your essence, to give birth to me in depths...
But now, in the oppressive darkness of questions,
I wonder, was it out of love, punishment, or destiny?
I wander through the labyrinth of existence, lost in contemplation,
Feeling banished to the asylum of madness,
In the midst of an endless storm of events called life.
Here, where nothing finds respite,
And everything will be forgotten in the depths of oblivion.
Here, where appearances are but shadows of reality,
And reality hides its mystical truth.
In this place, where the beauty of illusion turns into truth,
And the cult of hope becomes imperative,
Conquering pain, masking suffering,
And quenching the burning thirst of the heart.
You, elusive being,
Master of my singular truth, I beseech thee,
Let your certainty enclose me in its cage.
With joy, I shall serve my sentence,
In rhythm with the boundaries of transcendence.
For what kind of freedom would it be,
Bound by the shadows of evil?
Blessed be your justice,
And above all, your mystical Grace.
We went to a prison many years ago,
Prisoners were everywhere looking sad I saw,
I met a man but I forgot his name,
One friend introduced me to him.
His case was attempted rape,
In a faraway land he was not safe,
Coz’ nobody believed in his story,
Language barrier he felt so sorry.
The police sensationalized the case,
The parents want him to put in a life sentence,
Even with valid and strong evidences,
they want three million for their daughter's sake.
The witnesses explained the incidents truthfully,
The family of the accused prayed hopefully,
Lawyers said nothing to be afraid nothing to worry,
But after three months of waiting the court said he was guilty.
It’s like a bomb the hits the man on that day,
He asked himself.. where is GOD to protect him anyway?
His emotions and his mind was in deep misery.
He looked around to everyone and cried wearily.
This was the result if you were not in your own country,
They can twisted evidences and labelled you deceitful,
Many cases like this everywhere and around the world,
They are the victims and wrongfully imprisoned.
How can we achieved justice in this situation?
If your world end up in a square empty room?
Great loneliness and the feeling of being abandon.
Maybe just wait for a miracle, a royal pardon soon?
?
?I sat before a jury I could not see,
?Yet I felt their eyes — cold, unblinking — pierce through me.
?No one told me the charges I faced,
?But deep within, I knew each one by name.
?
?My thoughts were called as witnesses,
?And they did not lie —
?Each memory spoke with vivid clarity,
?Reciting every failure I tried to bury.
?
?I objected to the pain —
?But the judge in my mind overruled me.
?My silence was mistaken for guilt.
?My reasons, twisted into excuses.
?
?I tried to plead — to explain the scars,
?But they asked why I never tried sooner.
?Why I let the days drown me without protest.
?Why I waited until now to speak.
?
?I said I was afraid.
?They called it weakness.
?I said I was tired.
?They said I had time.
?
?I said I didn’t know how.
?They said I never asked.
?I said I was doing my best.
?They asked, “Was it enough?”
?
?I cried,
?And they called it performance.
?I laughed,
?And they called it madness.
?
?I stood still,
?And they asked if I had given up.
?I fought back tears,
?And they accused me of hiding truth.
?
?Every word became a weapon.
?Every pause, an admission.
?Every breath, an echo of shame.
?
?I turned to the judge —
?Only to find it was me all along.
?
?The trial ended.
?The sentence:
?Live with the weight of your own verdict.
?
?And as the gavel of thought struck final,
?I whispered a prayer —
?Not for freedom…
?But for peace.
?
My entry for Regina McIntosh
Thanksgiving Blessings Poetry Contest
Wednesday
27th October 2021
Firstly I am ever so thankful I learned
to tell the time
So I can count my blessings up
Thankful for each individual letter
and word
Thankful for being I am able to write
So I can best try string a poetic sentence
together
Such as
I've never been to America
The closest ive ever got is via
the movie's or my t.v set
So I am basing this solely on
American's seem to do like they
say in Texas
Holiday's and special events bigger
and better than anyone else
Some we don't even have or celebrate
ourselves like Prom and Thanksgiving
Independence Day 4th if July
Other's meanwhile we do but not
on the same scale as
St Patrick's Day parade in Boston
New Year's Eve in Time's Square
Halloween Trick or Treat
Hopefully eventually 1 day I will get
to go and experience them 1st hand
And until then they will just have to
remain firmly on top of my Bucket list
Maybe that's the point and what
dreams are all about
Something to look forward to
As my greatest wish or dream
above all else
Is to visit the Big Apple
New York , New York
Because if I can make it there
I can make it anywhere
Giving-Thanks bigger and better
As if I was myself a proud
American
Bang the gavel. Bang it again.
It's Judgment Day for my children.
Bang the gavel. Bang it again.
I sit on my Throne, a figure on High
To pronounce Judgment from my seat in the sky.
It's Judgment Day for my children. They tremble before me.
I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.
Three sons and a daughter down on their knees. Begging for mercy.
It's Judgment Day. Bang the gavel. Bang it again.
The first defendant arises. My only daughter.
She kneels before me, head bowed, hands clasped. Begging for mercy.
She recites her litany of offenses against me.
Should I cut off her head or merely sever her knee?
Now my first son, a strongman, comes to his feet
Massive muscles trembling before me
He cut me off hard at age thirty-six
Not a phone call or test, not even a card
I ponder whether I should burn him to death in a tub of pig lard.
Let him beg for mercy.
My last two sons stand up together. They're good boys, respectful,
kind to me and kind to my wife.
There's no doubt in my mind that I'll be sparing their life
It's Judgment Day for my children. They tremble before Me.
I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.
I call my daugher to the bench: "What do you have to say
in your defense, miserable wench?"
She breaks down in tears that melt down her years. Before me stands
a mere lass of nine.
"I'm so sorry, Dad," she whimpers. "I treated you like dirt," she simpers.
"Off with her head," I shout, proclaiming her sentence.
I sit on my Throne, a figure on High.
******************
But I am not God. I have no gavel to bang nor Throne to sit on
Neither am I any figure on High.
My judgment is flawed, as are my decisions
All of them models of judicial imprecision
Only one thing I know and I know that thing only:
God, the True Judge, requires us only
To act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before Him.
So, my just action will be
to love mercy and walk humbly:
"Come back, my daughter.
Return, my son.
I forgive you completely!
~ Can you forgive me?"
June 28, 2018
Inspiration:
Inspired by the “Footprints in the Sand” tradition—the enduring idea that when only one set of footprints remains, it is because the Divine is carrying us through our darkest hour.
—The Weight of Mercy—
I turned my years back down the seaward strand,
where joy had once impressed its double trace;
But when the dark unloosed me from its hand,
one print alone lay solemn in its place.
I deemed that single furrow spoke of doom,
and read Heaven’s silence as a sealed decree;
Yet grief, self-crowned, within my inward gloom,
arraigned the unseen for what mine eyes could see.
Then came one night when one brief sentence fell
through all the citadels I built so strong,
and where my failing breath could scarcely dwell,
I felt a strength that bore my soul along;
till, looking back, the furrows seemed to shine:
My feet were mine—the strength that bore me, Thine.