Long Snapshot Poems
Long Snapshot Poems. Below are the most popular long Snapshot by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Snapshot poems by poem length and keyword.
In the olden days
My mother only took one photo for me
As a new born with the family members
My childhood gone plain without photos
When I got my 1st salary
I bought a camera
To take photos wherever I go
With my family
Schoolmates
Friends
Colleagues
Now When I open the photo album
Sad memories pour in
My parents gone
Some family members gone
Some of the colleagues gone
Some of the old classmates gone
Time betrays us
Some sweet memories left us
Fate seldom compromises
With dreams
And great expectations
But behind the sadness
Love will linger on
With the once happiest moments
Never dies
Now I use handphone to snapshot
The happiest moments
With all my loved ones
Sharp,quick and easy
Love and happiness
Will linger on and on
Never fade
I do not recall which brand of coffee she liked best.
Nor do I remember if she liked it with cream and sugar.
But I am certain that she liked it strong and hot; so hot in fact,
That she could not drink directly from the cup.
A new day had dawned, and it was time for the coffee.
With cup and saucer in hand, her morning moment had arrived.
Not a major historical event, but for ME, she was making a memory.
After filling the cup, she would slowly pour the steaming hot coffee
Into the saucer. Then, she would gently blow, making it right for sipping.
Perhaps a common practice at the time, and unworthy of anybody’s attention.
But with wide-eyed interest in sipping A LITTLE BOY watches and captures A ’magical moment’.
Grandma and the years have passed on, and I suspect that ‘Saucer Sipping’ no longer exists;
but the captured moment in MY MEMORY will never die.
No amount of time, or changes in the culture of coffee,
Can erase the beautiful snapshot of one treasured moment.
I see A WIDE-EYED KID who has become a senior citizen.
I see the cup and coffee in MY HAND, taking sips without a saucer.
And I still see Grandma, happy and sipping her soothing hot coffee.
I SEE the cup, the saucer, the sipping, and the entire magical moment.
SPRING TIME MEMORIES 2
Spring in Lijiang
Blooming flowers sparkle;
Crystal clear waters
~~~~~~~~~
Snow-cap mountains
Majestic horizons;
Sky borne eagle
~~~~~~~~~
Prominent ancient town
Glimpses of old China;
Modern trade-offs
~~~~~~~~~
Ancient grounds glimpse
Tarry on stone bridge;
Curious feet loiter
~~~~~~~~~
Common grounds
Local folks ponder;
Observe tourists intrude
~~~~~~~~~
Old bazaar shoppe
Ancient gentleman smiles;
Pipe smoke patterns
~~~~~~~~~
Photo snapshot
Memory milestone;
Still life ambience
~~~~~~~~~
Brisk browse
Snatch good feel;
Takeaway trinkets
~~~~~~~~~
Ancient village moments
Emergent present;
Fast food restaurants
~~~~~~~~~
Lijiang in spring
May joy sets three days;
Heart wanders home
~~~~~~~~~
Picture story
Glimpses of Lijiang;
Vivid colours dance
~~~~~~~~~
Feast for the eyes
Magic moments stray;
Vivid visit
~~~~~~~~~
Cobblestone lanes
Petrified tryst;
Personal memoir
~~~~~~~~~
Silver everywhere
White metal textures;
Precious distractions
~~~~~~~~~
Once upon a tour
Lijiang in China;
A kind host
~~~~~~~~~
Winding pond
Willow tree murmurs;
Morning salutation
~~~~~~~~~
Fragrant Pu-Er tea
Tasty brew invigorates;
Round roll blend
~~~~~~~~~
Spring time sojourn
Far far away;
Horizons merge
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
19 August 2014
Singapore
"Though old and dilapidated, one's dear home can never be empty. It will be full of memories- sweet and sour- a snapshot out of time that talks aloud of happy memories. Even amid the hovering gloom, it emanates a sweet fragrance of love and warmth" ~ By Poet
To this decrepit house,
with walls well worn,
I come so often in my memory.
Once it throbbed with life
but now lies deserted.
It was built with experienced hands,
brick on brick with the cement of love,
within whose walls, we were born and bred,
crying and whining, prattling and laughing.
Here we shared a thousand mingled thoughts,
a hundred hopes, dreams and fears.
Saw the dawn of placid summer morns,
and the descent of cold winter nights.
The ones who lived here are all gone.
Some to, far off countries and climes.
Some exited out of life in time,
leaving a handful of sweet and sour memories.
The house now lies deserted
like many others with a similar plight.
Its once strong foundation is shaking
with a warning of an imminent collapse.
Faded light seeps through every crack.
The blue paint on its walls is chipping off.
The rusted roof is caving in, allowing rain
to sodden the ground and the interior,
etching mildew designs on the walls.
Shadows wander from room to room.
The path is overgrown with weeds
Worn wind chimes still glisten in the sun.
On the roof, weeds strike roots,
in the hope of becoming trees.
This decrepit house, now stays
amid thick growing shrubs
and trees bending down their arms
to hide it from human sight.
But who can cover it from my mind's eye
as its image remains a haunting memory
unable to be erased or blotted out!
John 1:9 KJV (We confess our sins & He faithfully forgives, cleansing us from all unrighteousness)
I fell to my knees as the preacher prayed over me with a hand on my shoulder
and with one gentle touch he showed me God's monogram signature of old
as he gently exfoliated me, from my secret sins ;
Private eyes downcast I gazed at a memorized snapshot of a much younger me,
soaked to the skin by a crucifix in Santa Catalina/Spain
I was young, foolish, and perfused in pain
having lost both my parents I nearly went insane
He didn't rush me, he didn't judge me nor did he ask my name
As the sun went down by Plaza de la Reina, I felt my first authentic remorse
and for the first time in my life, I realized that God was in control of my life;
Falling across my soul like a lit feather followed by the sun,
He came into my heart and gave me the gift of discernment.
From that day forward I placed my trust in Him, and never looked back.
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
Contest Name Repent and Believe Jan 22, 2022
A quiet spot in the house,
not frequented by visitors,
set aside, distant, aloof
solitary refuge, retreat,
escape, safe haven, sanctuary
from life trials and tribulations;
points of memory, subtle laughter,
remembered heartache and tears,
in picture frames, photographs, and reading books,
old school technology with paper, ink, and pen
scratchings of time and place,
etchings recovered and erased;
windows clean and wide,
open view portrait, vignette, a snapshot
to the world outside
visionary images of changes of the seasons
spring buds, blossoms and blooms
summer gardens exuberant with living visions
autumn color cavalcades
glistening thru the shade
warm sun lilting in reflective passage,
aging armchair warrior greeting time as it passes
clinging to the memories revived
within my sitting room.
arminius a German vassal prince, offered bait.' Of the best. More
Land in Germanica off to their west.' Two legions decamped
And were led on their way, by this dastared arminius villian
Of that day' his warriors were waiting in undergrowth thick
Druids there many, made potions; chanted and waved sticks'
Publius and two legions.' Were slaughtered en'masse nailed on to the oak trees.' What can we draw; from such a pass?
I gather the (dark gods of nature) were sated: with gore?
Did the havests grow better.' Was the weather more sure?
Quick snapshot of horror, 1940's again war.' Oak leaves on
ss lapels, gets my attention for sure! fast forward to our time
And 'a green planet to save' claus a swiss again pagan' and the
commitment 'to grave' measures to protect all nature at
Any costs.' Even introducing con-vid (and the intervention)
Though human lives could be damaged and lost.' Yet the the
Back drop is an area of 'green has emerged since around
The naughties? Well so I have heard? Twice the size of the
U S.' Will any experts concur.? Or show by a mapping' maybe
With a ( lectern chart and stick ?) Like we saw throughout
That con-vid ' the very thought of which; gets me sick.)
In an Indian home, at break of day,
It is a tender scene, in a timeless way.
A mother's love, a daughter's quest,
In this morning light, they're truly blessed.
On the floor, their space is shared,
With books and notes, they're both prepared.
The young girl's eyes, so full of grace,
Locked onto her mother's wise embrace.
A quiet room, the sun's soft kiss,
Illuminating this scene of bliss.
A mother's touch, her gaze so warm,
Nurturing dreams in every form.
In cotton sarees, simple and neat,
They sit together, love's heartbeat.
With homemade books and stationery,
They craft their educational journey.
With every word and lesson shared,
The mother's wisdom, tenderness, and care.
In this modest abode, they find their way,
Learning and growing, day by day.
A snapshot of a time, now past,
A mother's love, forever to last.
In rural India's tranquil embrace,
She becomes her daughter's first embrace.
Through the window, sunlight streams,
A symbol of hope, of shared dreams.
A mother's role, both profound and true,
Guiding her child, helping her through.
In humble means, they find their way,
With love and learning, come what may.
This mother's lesson, from her heart,
This is where a child's education truly starts.
As time moves on and years go by,
The bond they share will touch the sky.
In this Indian home, a story unfolds,
A mother's love, forever told.
From basics to values, life's every part,
Taught by her mother, with all her heart.
A daughter's future, set aglow,
By a mother's passion, love, and flow.
So, let us cherish this sacred role,
A mother's teaching, her lifelong goal.
For in her lap, a world takes flight,
Where a mother's love ignites the light.
SEIJAKU
That special moment in the eye of the storm
When all is swirling fast and loud around you
Yet you are in a pocket that is calm and still
As if a waved wand had stopped the world
Conjuring sudden silence amidst the clamour
One is a snapshot from an animation movie
Caught by surprise, in an instant of serenity
Open mouthed, slowly blinking and nodding
Grateful that someone threw a secret switch
Pausing the universe, if only for a few minutes
Allowing that precious time to gather thoughts
That otherwise would be lost in the maelstrom
Allowing one deep breath taken after another
A heavy gunfire of signals in the brain, ceases
Heartrate settles, and vision resumes its focus
So that each passing second can be welcomed
Slowly savoured, as if a delicate amuse bouche
Yet knowing that such a gift of time cannot last
At least, now aware that such a state can exist
From which one may emerge better balanced
Stronger, and poised to re-engage once more
The falling man, one photograph captured in time
An unforgettable image, imprinted on this mind
He represents us all, weather we like it or not
His faith did not kill him, destiny was his lot
Spiralling out of control, once the planes hit
Acting purely on instinct, not champing the bit
Fire and terror stoked decisions, until overcome
Incinerating heat compels him, never did he jump
This was no leap of faith, Infinitely more than that
A transcendence into agony, he’s looks down at
I try to pen his plight, impossible as it seems
Of a world going mad, upon our Tv screens
I wish it was over quick, that fall to his death
Alas he suffered slowly, until the very last breath
I’m been brutally honest, won’t gloss over the facts
For we owe it to him, it’s with innate honesty, he acts
A picture’s worth one thousand words, some disagree
Falling man, gives nothing away, we can clearly see
My heart’s telling this story, his fall sets the stage
An immortalised snapshot of life, will never fade
For all other innocents, murdered that fateful day
If there’s a silver lining, it’s with confidence I’ll say
Your loved ones cradled you, as the towers fell down
Far across many nations, pain is felt inside every town
Sun and moon appeared together, purposely that morn
Heavenly bodies, bore witness to a new world reborn
And this occurrence, should give a tiny ray of hope
Not used as a tool of glee by Helios misanthropes
Below is a comments box will the Helios misanthrope set foot in it
not a cowardly chance
By
David Kavanagh