Long Sibling Poems
Long Sibling Poems. Below are the most popular long Sibling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sibling poems by poem length and keyword.
Long time Shelton, Washington transplants...
also known as
noteworthy Trader Joe's patrons
bass sic lee did treble themselves
conducting taping jam session
assembling (boxing), compiling,
and hermetically sealing tight as a drum so,
a razor sharp machete blade got dull
trying to open in vain said holiday cheer
of awesome delicious goodies,
(especially the yummy
stuffed vine leaves with rice),
which holiday care package
received without fanfare
for this common man,
whose younger sister
(vibrant as Appalachian Spring),
nevertheless wiser sibling
Shari Harris-Dunning
a whiz (hard) at work
tantalizing, teasing, titillating
as a lead wrapper from home grown
organic foodstuffs, she and her bandmates
helped fit perfectly, meticulously,
and snugly together
analogous to outsize constituent components
of intricate jumbo puzzle pieces
amazingly, mathematically,
and thematically linkedin
bearing gifts subsequently mailed
(courtesy the United States Postal Service)
from Bend, Oregon
to Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
Lemme amplify how creative, innovative,
and opinionative yours truly (me)
a humble wordsmith,
who exhibits his freestyle trademark
Scottish matted style avante-garde,
one run of the mill (by the Floss) bard
wannabe wants to rave about your card,
he presumes unbridled
posthumous fame will ensue
after his lovely bones disintegrate
courtesy cremation, which cremains
symbolically distributed across
all four points across the globe,
cuz the earth will solely serve him
as eternal terrestrial graveyard
ashes repurposed hard
to believe buzzfeeding, jump/
kick starting seeds of life
and white lily obliterating ill-starred
legacy which afflicted one mortal
named Matthew Scott Harris,
whose chronic assault
with mental health issues
undermined realizing his potential.
Into the void of cosmic oblivion
eventually goeth as masterly cell bait,
the once unique human
(cited above) as (e) scripted inevitable fate
of all creatures great and small
death promises to liberate
uniting one garden variety,
and generic soul
linkedin among Spiritus Mundi
a never ending tête-à-tête.
Fairy Princess dreamer alone
in the ring of stones
At the end of the Rainbow
Do not let it be the end of faith
Little one, you did not lose your gold,
it cannot be taken from you
It happened to you, but it was not about you
There are still Unicorns
They are just further out in the foggy mists
As those fall into life's great sleep,
I will be awake to watch over you,
Sister, to help you find them again
You will always be part of a Family,
even if you do not recognize us, yet
You see, selfishness blurs out others,
and it is easier on the eyes to look upon, anonymity,
instead of truth reflecting the guilt of unfaithful insanity
-
A jealous masochism fighting identity
in that sleep that has lost its dream
This adversity, perversity,
could never mean you are not loved,
these are a separate thing,
far removed from what is sealed away and kept from
the distorted hearts- that forgot how to sing,
to cherish of it's faithfulness keep
There is still love, Family- you being
Sibling of my Eternity, if you will have me,
for our Eternity it shall be
When I say who are 'close ones'?
Of course the people who are in our long runs.
Be it parent or sibling or someone close,
They’re the ones who stay when it matters most.
But what if they become the reason for you to cry?
It's just not every tear is seen falling from the eye.
Father's bond is full of protection and completely warm,
What if he becomes the reason harm and storm?
Grandparents, uncles, aunts—symbols of care,
But what if their words leave you in despair?
Cousin reunions—moments we boast,
But what if they treat you like a rival, not close?
Friends' betrayal is another side of the glass,
But what if they make the person feel embarassed in the whole class.
You never know who goes through what,
The biggest smiles hide their feelings a lot.
Everyone don't get the same love, the same motivation, the same affection,
Stay blessed if you don't know the other side of this connection.
The biggest scars come from the closest relations is indeed true ,
But it comes from experiences known to only few.
And if you’ve never known this kind of pain,
Be thankful—you’ve been spared that rain.
Because you never know how someone survives each day,
With a thousand reasons to just walk away.
In a parallel universe everything might be different.
I wonder what would happen if I wasn't the oldest sibling.
Or maybe if my parents didn't split up.
Would my life be completely different if I grew up in another state?
Or maybe, if I would've just asked you out and didn't wait?
In another world, did you say yes? And if so, how long did we last?
I'd like to know, because if it wasn't long then maybe I can stop dwelling on the past.
But without knowing, I can't.
I still think of you everyday, and I text you all the time.
I think of the shimmer in your eyes or how the way that you laugh is like a melody to my ears.
Would you notice those things about me in another world?
Do you in this one?
I keep wondering, but all I'm left with are unanswered questions.
I'm stuck wondering if you would ever say yes to someone like me.
Is that a possibility even in a parallel universe?
Am I as annoying and loud as I think I am in every possible place?
I can't help but wonder, only thoughts of you fill my head space.
I've been up all night, stuck on the thought of you.
Would we ever work out anyway?
Even in a parallel universe?
Who says stop? Road signs, yes. But those who don’t like what is happening. The abused, the neglected, the rejected. Often ladies who don’t want to be fondled by the men they’ve accepted as dates or trysts. There are those that say stop when the drink is being filled and others who express their prohibitive word – STOP – when they’ve finally heard all the bellowing they can take for one round between them and a spouse, a sibling or a child. Stop can mean that a road, whether paved, dirt or vindictive, has finally come to an end and this is where the rubber meets the pavement, where the dog-eared finish meets the truth, where the lifetime meets with its fate and even, possibly, when the heart meets its beat and together, two are merged as another sign, pointing one way. STOP means wait, forget it, pause for just a bit. But, mostly STOP means to bar the way so that no one can say you came to a rolling stop because you know, without a doubt, you absolutely stopped before continuing on your way, discovering the direction of your destiny, your fate.
Just a sign to stop
Unsupervised it is not
Sojourn from the start
blue war red hot political issues dont amount
to a hill of beans
when Sword of Damocles count
approaches zero hour
as global tensions mount
signaling increased chance
trigger finger will free
avast nuclear winter
(across world wide web) re:
leasing plethora pyrocumulus
mushroom clouds tree
mend us planetary explosions
annihilating webbed wide
world, an irrevocable earthlinked debacle
spelling widespread species
multitudinous extinction
ex post de facto after super
bowling powers (wannabe) vied
to wrest empowerment spanning
entire realm sans third rock
from the father, sun and holy ghost,
who turned substantial pock
kits of flora and fauna
once populating oblate spheroid ad hoc
significant swaths of life forms
pulverized and/or turned to ash
transformed into radioactive wasteland
after war mongers brash
lee usurped hegemony
(ruling inhabitants
of Gaia with an iron fist
with a smidgen of flavoring
courtesy of Missus Dash
superfluous taste enhancer,
when sibling burnt offering views
between Venus and Mars incendiary
tolled mourning news
smithereens sole remnant
poisoned every square inch
from weapon of mass destruction
that did cruise
engendering thick noxious fog
(disabling fox and roach)
while smoldering seas and continents
skull and crossbones didst poach
amidst the gasified, liquified, pureed
where holographic ghoulish super bowl coach
rendering lifelessness home for menagerie
where virtue trounced vice as organisms
(particularly one primate) didst try
(predominant 21st century simians)
tool heave with amity, comity, and empathy
animals and plants an experiment
that went a wry
presaging a nuclear winter with nary a winner
implicating mankind as the absolute sinner
instantaneously after Doomsday Clock
signaled point of no return
where grim reaper the sole grinner.
Form:
Memories lie strewn like scented petals
Emitting sweet fragrance, they tickle my senses,
Taking me to the time, when after a long wait
We got a gift overdue, lifting our joy to excesses.
Into our nest a birdie came, tender and treasured,
Chirping incessantly, making our dusky days bright
My first born, a baby boy, a late arrival
Who altered my life and made me soar like a kite.
Another came after three years,
As a late-night guest, giving us added joy
Excitedly we watched our little boys run and play
As our house rang loud with laughter and cry.
Elder one was bossy, still they were true brothers
Grew up to be our pride and joy, bringing cheer
No noisy brawl as the younger was obliging
They rarely quarrelled, preferred to be together
The ash laden cinders of our heart blazoned with our sons’ arrival
The elder one was hyperactive and was quite inquisitive
He would ask- “Why rain always falls down and never goes up”
Questions- making the answers less by definitive.
Once when l was holding the little one in my hands
The elder asked- “Of the two, who do you love more”
I could see a trace of sibling jealousy flashing on his face
I fell silent, but knew it was a question I couldn’t ignore
Drawing him closer, after a pause, I answered
You both have place in my heart that no one can take
When you win, my heart sings in joy, when you fall
I come to lift you, when misbehave, my heart, you break.
If you stay a sweet child as you are now,
My heart will have equal space for you and your brother
With all doubts cleared, I saw a glitter glimmer in his eyes
He nestled closer, with no more fears to bother.
.
The door was left ajar. He lay in bed, attired in my father’s wrapper. We wondered who he was. We have never seen someone lie in my father’s bed in the daytime. We were expecting to see the door locked. In our curiosity, we drew closer. He was fast asleep. He looked like our father but a lighter version. We have seen so many of his brothers – my father comes from a large family - but this one has a striking resemblance. They look like twins. We looked at each other startled.
“This must be Father’s brother,” my brother said. He continued, “The resemblance is just too much.”
I nodded.
“Where has he been?” I asked.
“I don’t know. How would I?” My brother replied.
“We have seen so many of his brothers but this I don’t think so,” I said.
My brother nodded.
He looked at us with keen interest. He cautioned us when we played beyond safety. He was indeed different. He acted like we were his children. It was later we knew that he was my father’s only sibling from the same parents. They haven’t been close since my father left his parental home. My father had told him that we were relocating to the state where he resides. My father had asked for his assistance in conveying our properties. He had gladly accepted the request. It was an opportunity to light up dying embers.
A few years later, my father departed. He had held my father’s hand through the troubled waters. He had journeyed with my father through the midnight holding the lamp. My father's hand was too feeble to hold onto his. The darkness was too dense for the lamp's light to shine through. They came to the end of the road. One transcended. The other was forlorn and distraught. He mourns his brother even to this day.
April 15, 2023.
A Visitor Poetry Contest,
Julia Ward.
Home blest
love’s nest…
Dad leads
kind deeds…
Mom cares
grace shares…
Brod’s walk
props talk…
Sis dear
brings cheer…
Babe smiles
laugh styles…
Sibling
Bonding…
Each glows
peace flows…
All pray
let’s stay…
Oneness
firmness…
Faith flight
smites fright…
We cope
then hope…
Joys swell
works well…
Good health
great wealth…
Blest home
God’s dome
Fortress*
no stress!
*He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.
June 6, 2023
10th place, "NO 1241 NEW POEM ONLY" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 9/7/2023
Camelia - Rabindranath Tagore
Kamala was her name.
I saw her name written on her journal
She was traveling on a tram, with her sibling along, toward the path leading to the college.
I was a back bencher there.
From one side, of her face, the smile line is visible
And the unbridled hair, touching softly her neck underneath the braid
With the book and journal in her lap
I missed the designated stoppage where I was supposed to stop.
Now, I have a stricter time, allotted for a walk outside
That calculation is not quite a musing with my workspace
Almost befitting with their leaving time, whence it is time.
Often we meet
I ponder in silence, regardless if there is any relation or not
She is my co-traveler.
A face with innocent intelligence
Was evident there, fulbright.
The young forehead had untied haid rushed to upside
The bright eyes had a gaze, unhesitant
It comes to my mind, why there is not any crisis, ensuing
Saving civilization from, to make this life glorious, charismatic, flying.