Long Simpler Poems

Long Simpler Poems. Below are the most popular long Simpler by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Simpler poems by poem length and keyword.


Cave Man Date

Caveman preps for dating female mates
As he puts on fresh skins and pelts
Caught that day since everything was free
Oil from animal musk still ooze from pores
(To allure the delicate gender favors)

Killing prey is not exactly PETA friendly 
ASPCA might have something to say
Millions of years hence so not to worry

Cave men speak Ugh which is short for ugly
He is going clubbing with his handy stick
Nowhere near Fifth Avenue I'm sure 

A not so delicate creature blinks at him
Smiles from the bush with perceived approval
One bonk on the head is all it takes

He drags her by the dirty knotted hair 
Back to his cave to live forever more
As husband and wife in ancient splendor
Life was simpler back then


Premium Member She Dances In Bright Colors Wearing Red Ballerina Shoes

Valeria Valdermare once was a young ballerina who coveted a pair of red ballerina shoes.  Oh! how she truly longed to grow up to become a prima ballerina!  But alas! She was last in her class. All of her peers sneered and ridiculed her not only to her face.  But behind her back in her absence. She possessed neither beauty nor grace. How could she continue bearing her heartbreaking disgrace?

Valerie worked harder and longer than the other ballerinas in her age bracket.  Her teachers and their assistants took pity on her. They wanted to have her parents discharge her.  Why should they waste their hard earned money on more lessons?  Maybe Valeria should try something simpler by becoming a book worm?  She certainly did not have any athletic nor dancing abilities! 

But Valeria had a secret weapon.  She had her very own fairy godmother, Blue Morning Flower.  Her charge Carnation Pink Mayflower, was a younger fairy godmother of her exact age. It was Carnation Pink Mayflower who was awarded the higher honors.  

When Valeria laid sleeping in her bed, Carnation Pink Mayflower. Tap her brown haired crown three times.  Proclaiming each time,"Valeria, your wish has been granted unto you." Valeria dreamed she saw her in her nighttime visions.  She had always believed in both fairy godmothers and pixies.  Her parents never tried to get her even once to change her mind.

The next morning, there was a carnation pink wrapped present besides her princes' bed.  She discovered her coveted red ballerina slippers.  Grabbing her presents in her small hands. She ran downstairs and showed them to her astonished parents.

The next ballerina class session, Valeria put on the red slippers. When they began the practice warm up routines.  Valeria noticed the difference they made.  What used to be very difficult became easier.  Her dance routines were also vastly improved.  She astonished her whole class! How they envied her red ballerina slippers!  Her childhood dreams of being a world renowned prima ballerina had just come true! She would dream and dance in bright colors!

Love as always,
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
June 01, 2020

***Inspired by Hans Christian Anderson's "The red shoes."
Form: Narrative

Easy Woman

That guy with perfect lips is The most tempting man I’ve ever known,
but he is so complicated,
so mundane , so empty , so unknown.

He denies himself the chances that life throws. 
He likes fast cars , the sea , to own a motorcycle and easy women . 
He pretends his heart is frozen at a younger time when things were simpler to confront, 
and love bled red skittles bubble gum
and heart injuries healed on the run . 
 
The things he’ll never care  to know are 
that I wish I touched his soul 
that I wanted to be that girl , 
the only one , always in his dreams. 
that I wish to be the catcher
of all his self destructive thoughts.

How I hate that I can only  see him when he invites me to visit his dog.
Just because I know the end and is not something that I’m proud of.
The other day I saw him 
dancing  techno with another girl 
and I got mad .
You see , I’m such a good dancer .

And I had bought that dress for when he tells me : “let’s go to the movies, then we go dancing , we kiss in the car and after that I’ll take you home if that’s what you want . “

But I’m aware that day might  never come 
Because I already gave him so much 
And his response is as cold as an ice wall 
I am just glad I didn’t give him all .

Premium Member Spider Fires

Spider Fires

When we are beaten on not once, 
but over a course of years, 
a thing happens that occurs...
and sometimes but not always, 
goes away. 
Most times, 
we do not live long enough, 
for that to happen. 

It is the thing someone says or does, 
that is similar in a mirror, 
but not the same at all. 
The characters have changed, 
the actors have traded places, 
the shadows dance backward,
but the substance of life, 
is less concrete, then it should be...
by now. 

Like pins and needles, 
under your skin, 
or in your ears or eyes...
Complicated and complex ideas, 
made into small tiny pieces,
to put in boxes...
with and without lids, 
accordingly, 
as to the age of the dish. 

Take pills, therapy, and doctors, 
all have say in the idea, that something is wrong. 
They, of course, are right, 
but it is not what you might believe. 
It is far simpler than that. 
Escape the pain...
of someone that has trapped you in a web, 
of lies and deceit that was not first hand divulged 
in the beginning of the dance. 
Take a cross and hold it high and tell them...
to obtain their blood elsewhere, 
and that the innocent have grown teeth and fangs, 
and will do justice to murder in the night, 
should the lesson not be held close to the heart.
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Strength

The Strength
Your whole life is nothing but a chorus begging you to yield
It’s easier to surrender and makes things simpler
You would feel safer in the crowd that is drifting without purpose
Yet you dared to set foot on an unpaved road
Hoping to drag the unwilling world into the light
But they feared the glare, and hostility shot up
Your family was the first to shatter under the pressure
They pleaded with you to wander back on the path
Dangling the only thing you ever wanted from them: Love
It was all yours if you willingly went back
Fearing your potential, the teachers mocked and scorned you
They opened the gate of bullying and ignored the harm
A cruel plan sown to break you
And mold you into everyone else, broken, uniformed, and aimless
That is what they were hired for
But you ignored the lies of their empty jealousy
Your armor holding true to the storm of insults
And as you rose from the darkness, they were terrified
As the darkness was their true home
Yet you stood victorious, bathing in the brightness
And all was well


What Is In My Dreams

What is in my dreams
The hope of answers that I long to see
For the questions I have
Deep inside of me
I have so many
but still everyday there's more
It don't help ya know
Hiding somewhere and locking the door
They keep getting to you
Overwhelming you until you hit the floor
Why are you haunting my mind
What there do you hop to find
Our life together in the simpler times
Laughing with no reason or rhyme
I close my eyes and there you are
My thoughts never let you travel to far
I open my eyes you're still there
Memories of you and I are everywhere
They're in songs from back in the day
No matter how hard I try
They're here to stay
And although it's so painful
Really I don't want it any other way
Because no longer do i have to pretend
To myself that the feelings for you ended
They never left my heart
But now I don't really know
Where to start
Putting things here or there
At the moment they're scattered everywhere
Perhaps soon the time will come
When everything will be said and done
Until then I will have
My memories
So you ask
What is in my dreams
Hopes, wishes, and lifes crazy schemes
A prayer of one day
Having you again here with me
But as much as I need you
They are right now just dreams
And in dreams
Nothing is what it seems....
....take a good long look around
and make very little sound
as you look down
notice how you feet never touch the ground

Premium Member Last Love

I have lived and loved; I do so believe;
in mind and in my heart, once in a while;
that organ is not easy to deceive;
the former so much simpler to beguile.
Yet not so, living yes, the love not true;
the morning glory dawns that I had seen
before, I knew were pointless without you
to lay beside, that haze of dew between
us, breath slowing, soft lips twixt shoulder blades
salt tasting, hands assaying softest curves. 
Then, all too soon, it seems that time invades
in truth, it is the mirror that observes
not I; you smolder as the day we met
I don’t believe we’ve loved enough, as yet.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Cell Phone Mania

Here's my philosophy for what it's worth

Not the first time I've expressed my outlook on life

The stress of modern every day living

Is showing on the faces of people in the street

All with cell phones plastered to their ears

Oblivious to the world around them

A cold breeze has enveloped our very existence

No longer the friendly greetings we once expressed

We're totally wrapped up in the complexities

That have been thrust upon us

It's an exciting age of amazing technology

The much more simpler days of years gone by

Are gone forever never to return

Each generation longs for their past

A feeling of nostalgia grips us as we age

Wishing to relive the exuberant days of our youth

But time marches on relentlessly

As I sit here at my powerful computer

Messaging faceless people in the four corners of the earth

Like others, I tend to forget this is an amazing age

But it's only the latest chapter

Of countless more chapters to follow

Our minds can't conceive where this will all lead

The only thing that's certain is progress

So be ready to be amazed

The future is filled with untold exciting new adventures

That our minds can't conceive or even imagine

It's a exciting time to be alive



© Jack Ellison 2014
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Grandma's House

Grandma’s house is gone, part of my childhood too
Leaving only memories and a sense of feeling blue
Progress can’t replace the happiness and joy
That dwelt inside my heart when I was a little boy
Coal stove in the kitchen, keeping the farmhouse warm
Grandma’s arthritis forecasting a pending storm
At night you could hear the crickets and smell the fresh stacked hay
Hear the trucks out on the highway though they were a few miles away
There were grapevines in the back with grapes that tasted so good
And a shed across the front yard, on the side some fire wood
Chipmunks came up on the porch and ate peanuts out of my hand
Grandma’s house was special, the best place in the land
There was no running water, outside we had a well
Grandma’s vegetable soup gave the house a special smell
We had large family gatherings each and every Fourth of July
And all the love and laughter that heaven could supply
I went hiking with my brothers until day turned into night
With potatoes in the campfire, The farmhouse still in sight
Life was so much simpler then, a better way of life it seems
Grandma’s house is gone now, but never from my dreams.
Form: Bio

What have I done?

You came by maybe for the last time,
to my room, to drop my scarf
and the pen I’d once placed in your palm.
When you left, I held that scarf tight,
hoping it carried some trace of you.
I never knew your scent,
but for a moment my whole body trembled
with the wish that I did.

I hoped you would wait a little longer.
I hoped you would tell me about your day
the way you once did
when everything was simpler
and neither of us knew it.

Sometimes I wonder if you ever look back
on the quiet days we shared
and see the empty space I carved without meaning to.
I wonder if you regret anything.
I hope you don’t.
I hope you remember more than the silence
I wrapped myself in
when I didn’t know how to answer your lies
or how to speak when I needed to.

Maybe someday
you will walk past me
and I will walk past you,
nothing between us but the soft ache of silence.
Maybe.

Your small smile still stirs
that familiar churn beneath my ribs.
Maybe I am the problem,
but I will try not to hate myself
for the ending of a friendship
I fought to understand.

You had every right to act how you have,
And I’ve only now realized
how little we truly knew each other
despite all those hours we claimed we did.

Still, I imagine your arms,
the way I would sink into them
and cry until my chest emptied out.
Maybe some far-off August,
some impossible January,
I would hold you like I’d never let go again.

Sometimes I ask myself
what I’ve gained
by letting myself lose you.
Maybe time will open its quiet hands
and show me,
eventually.

For I have cried,
and I have hoped,
and I have wished,
and I have questioned every reason
I thought was enough.

Yet I still care.
Maybe you were only my emotions
wearing a familiar face,
but I still want
to hug you again,
to hold your hand
like the world hadn’t split between us.

What have I done?
Will I always feel this tremor
when you drift back into my thoughts?
Will I always wonder
about the things you told others
but never told me?

Will I always question
whether you’re lighter
without the weight of me?
Will I always carry
this quiet regret 
for choosing the path
that led away from you?

But love doesn't always return.
And I do love you.
Yet I am not sorry
for breaking the promise we made,
for ending the part of the story
that could no longer hold us.

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