Long Single Poems
Long Single Poems. Below are the most popular long Single by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Single poems by poem length and keyword.
I was in a field near Maitland, just wading through this rain
and I'm feeling about as ragged as my jeans
Mali went home to lay down just before this rain
started spinning this old man's mind back into a dream
so I pulled my wood flute from my dirty red bandanna
and played it softly as I learned to sing the blues
didn't hear the words or see the lies just held Mali's hand in mine
We must have sung every song this grand-pa knew
Dreaming is just another word for nothing left to lose
Nothing means everything because this life it ain't free
And feeling good was so easy, Lord, Till I sang the blues
In real life feeling good was good enough for me
From her fast track to play time, she loved laying in the sun
That's where we could discuss the secrets in our souls
Through clear and stormy weather, arguments and the fun
Yeah, this blue eyed baby girl kept grampa from the cold
On a clear day near Amplatz, Lord, I felt her slip away
You knew she went to look for her Big Bro, I know Liam found her
I'd gladly trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday
If I could be holding that precious Mali on my knee
To remember is yet another word in this life some must lose
Dreams, hope and deep faith that's what Mali left me
Speak often to all who cross and you will realize who is free
Learning this together was good enough for me and Mali McGee
Somewhere across the seashore
someone waits for me.
Feeling his longing, his needing, his love
across the deep blue sea.
Sometimes I can hear his whisper
in the gulls lullaby, asking if I love
him too as a single gull flies over
high.
Tender thoughts he sends me in
the sunset's evening sky,
In layers of orange, blue and
yellow, drifting clouds passing by.
He paints for me passionate pictures
while speaking sweet poetry in my
ears and loss of his presence sometimes
brings me to tears.
I can feel his warmth envelope me
complete, as the evening tides return
slowly and peacefully around my feet.
For years now this familiar wind has
across my soul blown and it leaves me
feeling his presence, a feeling I feel that
I have always known.
Somewhere across the seashore
someone waits for me.
Feeling his longing, his needing, his love
across the deep blue sea.
I return each day to greet him on
the seashore's lighthouse side,
thinking someday he'll come for me
and make me his bride.
On the far edge of the world there are
fanatics of many minds and religions.
They have uninteresting histories,
jejune existences, and distorted ideas of nature.
Some are belligerent, felony-friendly foreigners.
I’ve never given them a single thought,
because they are nothing to me.
They’re insignificant—living curiosities
and I grant them no more sympathy
than I would a flock of wild birds.
Of course, I’d never wish to harm wild birds
unless they had the wherewithal to attack me,
in inimitable, Hitchcock style.
.
.
Songs for this:
Kashmir by by Toni Jevicky
Bring Me to Silence (Audiotree Live) by Fievel Is Glauque
.
.
felony-friendly = terrorist or crime adjacent
He wasn't just gay,
he was GAY gay. The saddest gay person
I've ever known. He was my friend.
He said that I was all he had...
me and Jesus. But he could talk to me
a lot easier than he could Him.
" Sometimes, I think that He's mad at me," he told me once.
"He's mad at me for not fixing myself.
I've tried a few times. But then,
He says, 'What's the matter with YOU?
Leave it alone!'"
"Sometimes, late at night, I go to Johnnie Mercers Pier, all the way to the end---
and just scream at Him. I AM BROKEN,
AND you DID IT! SO you NEED TO FIX IT
RIGHT NOW'!
He gets really angry when I do that."
"I don't know..." I said to him..."I think you gotta do a hell offa lot to piss off GOD."
We both broke out in hysterical laughter.
I wonder, now,
why we found that so funny.
Last week, Shame flew to San Francisco.
He said to look for Jesus,
cause he couldn't find Him at church anymore,
and somebody told him
that He'd moved there.
So, he sold everything that he owned,
except for the neon orange boa that he wore
on special occasions and
a book of poetry by Langston Hughes,
and he left.
When he got there, he checked himself
into a fancy hotel and put his book on the table. He opened it up to the poem,
"The ***** Speaks of Rivers."
He grabbed his orange boa and
wrapped it about his neck. Then went outside and hailed a taxi.
He told the driver to take him to the bridge. The driver put him out, never questioning the destination
(I feel certain that he'd made that trip before).
Shan gave him a $100 tip and waved him off.
When I got the news, I just had to chuckle a little inside. Only that DAMN Shame could manage to do both---
find Jesus,
and piss Him off,
all in a single leap.
R. Kelly
I have faith ...
You will get yours
There is balance in the Universe
One of these days, you and those like you
Will pay for the pain you have brought to others
Unspeakable crimes and despicable acts
Young girls made to do things no human ever should have to do
For the sole sake of your twisted sexual arrogance
You are the embodiment of evil and sadistic intention
And the weakest excuse for a man
Music is the universal language of love and the divine
And you have perverted that language to manipulate and control
God forgive you, because I can not
I am enraged every time I think of those girls
The precious souls you took and stained with your vile deeds
The pain you've seeded to their parents and loved-ones
Every single pointless tear shed for your casual disregard
I have deep conviction it will ALL come back to you ... someday
For there is a special place in Hell reserved for your kind
A special fire that burns slowly and painfully
And a lifetime of agony and torment for each sweet spirit you defiled
Every demeaning act you perform
Is more indelible proof of the base feral animal you are
The true monster you will always be
Oh yes, you will indeed get your just desserts
And that glorious, wonderful day
Can never come ...
Soon enough.
Justice is blind and sleeping,
Lady Liberty is weeping;
We are lying to ourselves
about the state of our society;
Lurking like an ugly word
broadcasted upon a neon sign,
saying ‘Are you sure it’s safe for you?
The people there are all Black.’
Under the guise of inclusion
May the fifth can’t sound Mexicano
‘Be careful with this party,
it can’t be called ‘Cinco de Mayo’.
Lingering like a broken refrain,
We’re really all faking;
Oh, we call it ‘Mediterranean’
we can’t say Afghan,Iraqi or Iranian;
The country is reeling;
Every single one of us bleeding,
to show each other we are all the same.
We love to begin some days with a walk along the beach…
We leave the house in the dark when the streetlights are still on…
and walk until the darkness surrenders to the civil dawn.
We walk towards the east because that allows our eyes
to adjust from the darkness to the light as the sun begins to rise.
On one particular morning…
as the sun began it’s slow advancement across the land….
we noticed a single yellow primrose…up ahead
smiling in the sand.
As we approached that primrose
we observed on this part of the beach…she was the only one….
to us she seemed less like a flower…
and more like a drop…left there by the sun.
And we thought if rain can fall in drops out of the sky…
from a sea of clouds all painted blue…
is it possible in the morning…
there can be sun drops falling too?
Drops we usually don’t see individually…
as they blend together to brighten up the land…
but drops that occasionally find a place to rest…
like on the shoreline in the sand.
So now whenever we see a primrose on our beach walk
every primrose that we find…
we greet as a little drop of daylight…
the sun has left behind…
Inspired by our agency. We are not for sale. Every person is valuable and important and worthy of love and kindness. Stay strong. Blessings.
I am light
(My Soul is powerful)
By Michelle Morris
19/11/2025
I am worthy
I am light
I am love
I am mighty
I am not yours
I am not for sale
I am not a chess piece
I am not here to fail
I am valuable
I am strong
I am important
I am belonging
I am not limited
I am not weak
I am not a follower
I am not a sheep
I am powerful
I am compassion
I am integrity
I am faith in action
I am not afraid
I am not blind
I am not daunted
I am not unkind
I am a fire
I am a storm
I am a phoenix
I am reborn
So, no matter what you think
Remember my agency deserves respect
It is an honour to be in my presence
My Soul is powerful - a magical essence
I have courage, hope and faith, always
God and His Angels know my name
And every single evil thing you do to me
Will come back on you like Hell's fierce flames
© Michelle Morris, 2025
Not a single one of those days, so pleasant
Has been saved in its entirety
The fragmentary memory spares the present
From our salad days impropriety
I shimmered in every shade of green
Before blending into the dark
You’ve grown the roses I’ve never seen
In Kew and even in Regent’s Park
Was it a blessing I couldn’t notice
When I was young, time won’t tell
Has it flown away from both of us?
A sunray in the old wishing well
Reflects in the coin thrown ages ago
Your black shirts swing on the line
And the swifts cry flying fast and low
Bursts the wind and blows down the sky..
Happy Mothers Day
Mothers Love
Way back a long long time ago when Adam was with Eve.
Before a single child was born no cause to doubt or grieve.
His knowing ways of darker days right from the very start.
God took extra portions and put them in Eves heart.
He gave to her some extra hope for a heart that needed mending.
The only hope that God can know is hope that's never ending.
He gave an extra dose of faith He knew what that would mean.
There'd come a day along the way She'd have faith for things
unseen.
Compassion and of sympathy He gave Eve quite a lot.
And instinct for along the way to use the patience that she got.
He gave her understanding cause He knew there'd come a day.
One of her own would be alone and she'd need words to say.
He gave her strength and courage to face the darkest night.
But just in case one lost their place He gave to her a light.
Then for a time all time stood still as these gifts from up above.
God placed in the heart of Eve what's now called Mothers Love.
Edwin C Hofert