Long Sometime Poems
Long Sometime Poems. Below are the most popular long Sometime by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sometime poems by poem length and keyword.
Three D people no longer hold my loyalties
I am a troll, spending up to six hours a day
Okay, make it ten
on computer sites, with my new family
Get your own dinner, I holler to my children
They rummage in my purse getting money
Whatever
I am farming; it takes hours and hours
My crops are overdue
Can you please pay attention to me? Someone whines.
It is my husband.
He is a professional whiner
If he got paid for it, we would be billionaires.
I begin to play my word games
Because my new family is sending me messages
Make your move!
Or a yawning emoji
Going to bed is easier now.
I take my electronics with me
Eventually falling asleep
sometime between midnight and morning
America, is my home, I love it with all my heart, and will never part.
It has had its up and downs, and sometime caused me alarm.
America has grown through all its ways, ways to make better days.
It has gone to war, and fought for rights, died and saved lives, that now work hard to keep it right.
America, is my home, it has changed, some good and some bad, but it continues on.
I remember the days, when others loved it too, they carried her flag, the red white and blue, was flying with pride everywhere.
Today some are not so proud, they act like freedom was easily won, they forget the lives given to make us one.
One nation under God, with our thanks to God.
Remembering our first Constitution, says that under God we establish our laws.
Loving our God, and our America, lets pray for days that make us closer to God.
Red, White and Blue are my colors, they run through my blood forever.
Great job Americans lets continue to grow to all of Americas full potential.
From two dimension hands,which closed to me,see two pieces bruised faces
Fall blowed mantra like the spots and
Lip of woman dressed black next
the black smokes
That,fly behind of that woman
Sometime, Like place one upon another the mirrors,woman's images continue back of woman
Their hands is "L"type
Sitting(seen like a tail) God
Tattoo the waves at chest
Smakes scatter behind of her hands
that woman in the circle
Arrives railing of faintly light
Dragon turn around the circle
Just one,the legs
Controled the balance mask
Flowers flower from face painted yellow,green,blue
(Example-Sunflower,Rose,etc)
Many of eyes look at like circle
"N"type hands
Around,slowly,quickly
turn opposite
Red color's man is yellow eye
that turn continue , one circle or more
Hexagons,Stars,Fruits
Radiate from the eyes
And his casted down one's eyes
Radiate from stared place
Turn the galaxy at neck
Planets are lower,higher
Lighter blue orbit wear off wear on
Brightness the light and stable
Now,with face like thundered
Continues with sound waves
Sun is bright and down
Burned faces are stable
Faces like radio waves leakage
World with that fire storm
Thwelt Di Nwe
There was a fisherman needing a buzz
Full of hairy looking fuzz
Watching a canary do what he does
Using his noodle
Fisherman started to doodle
On a canvas for what it’s worth
Being independent reflecting an American image on the fourth
A statement he did make
Relaxing dockside on a break
Sketching away
Knowing there was no pay
Just the joy
Flirting with the scribbling toy
Designing simple lines
Wasting nobody’s time
Done quick
Holding a ball point BIC
Pictures come alive
Minutes to complete counted five
Never really noticing
Canary statuesque on the wooden posting
Being the muse
Fisherman did choose
Song bird could not refuse
An artist and his dues
“I came looking to fish
Sautee it in a creative dish
Instead a canary caught my eye
And no sea food is going to be fried”
Then a wind came along
Clock tower speaking four bongs
Watching the canary fly
Fisherman bided the vision good-bye
“Off to tea my good friend
I will see you sometime when”
With the hour getting dark
Fisherman packed headed to where he parked
A good day indeed
No hooks did bleed
Killing the live bait
During this peaceful date
Where one sits around and waits
Arriving home
Wife on the phone
She asking
About his multi-tasking
“Catch anything?”
“Just a few pounds and I feel like a king
Sold a canary drawing
To the pub where all they do is crawling
Presented me a complementary stew
Enough to take home to you”
Kindness isn’t always fun.
Maybe it’s carrying a spider out of the hot sun!
Helping him onto the best plant to climb.
Maybe giving him a dime.
He has spiky legs and eyes of four.
He spins a web, always seeming sure.
And hands me a web shaped as a flower bouquet.
It strikes me as weird so I don’t know what to say.
Maybe we could all stand to crawl once in a while.
Enjoy hand spun things that make us smile.
Kindness isn’t always typical.
Sometimes it’s just a flower as small as a thimble.
Who knew a spider could make my day?
I didn’t have much to say.
Maybe sometime I’ll knit him a sweater.
But maybe tiny shoes would be better!
Kindness isn’t always graceful.
Sometimes it’s spiky feet by the handful.
Many longs to hear
What I have to say.
But my lips never care
To have the words sprayed.
Many want to see my view
And know my stand
But the germinating clue
Will make me strand.
Many have said to me:
'What are you hiding from us'.
But i can feel,
That none can be trust.
Many care to know
All about me.
And some just follow
To from me steal.
They want to get all,
But will get none.
For they will fall:
Even in what give them fun.
For they've made league
With themselves:
The light and the thick
To make me vexed.
Some who holiness show,
And tend to love:
For they'll give you blow,
And have your happiness shoved.
Folks who care
May not do-
But just fear
To loose you.
Not all who
make you laugh.
Intend to do:
Laugh sometime starve.
Be afraid of those
who always smile.
For many wolves
Walks (because of meal) miles.
Move always closer
to those who frown.
For in there deeper,
Thoughts have them drown.
Good things
sometimes comes
in clings
of thorns.
Bad things
often comes
in clings
of joy.
17:25:12:20:11
Form:
I can move slow or fast
leaving all in my dust
I am good at blending in
you can walk past not seeing me
Sometimes I give you a scare
as I shoot out and off
I can climb trees
but prefer the ground
When having a drink
I sometime have a dip
solitary is mainly my life
I want it no other way
My call for my young
is a soft cough or two
which carries for miles
bringing them running
A final clue I give to you
I like the open plains
the hotter the better
as it slows my prey
I go after the smaller things
and can twist on a dime
leap a hill or small bush
I kill by smothering
Most of my food
I lose to larger predators
so I have to hide
and eat very fast
Which is a problem
as I am drained
by the chase
needing time to recover
I often end up
getting just a few scraps
but at least my young
have once more eaten
So please tell me do
what the heck am I?
written 03/11/2014
contest: What Am I sponsor Poet Destroyer I chose Thing
("Before the Door", 2023, original encaustic)
I know I’m going to die
Sooner of later Death comes for us all
Like an old best friend
Who was always patiently waiting.
But I also know from personal experience
That he comes only at the perfect time
Despite what we may think.
Death has already come for many
Family and friends and dear pets
I have known and loved
So I do know what it looks like
At least from my perspective
As an outside observer and sometime flirt
But I don’t know what it’s actually like.
And from what I’ve seen
I don’t think I ever will know,
Because you know,
When you’re dead, you’re dead,
And even if there is an immortal soul
It doesn’t die, so it doesn’t know death either!
What we do know, either way, is Life.
We know it because we are it.
We see it all around us, we feel it in us.
We see it come and go, Death again,
But we see it, and feel it, continue,
Morphing continuously in ever changing
Creative adaptation.
That’s the big picture we’re just a part of.
One day I know I, and all I love, will be gone.
There is trepidation as that day approaches
Of course, but there is solace too
Knowing it is both inevitable and irrelevant
Since I won’t actually be here for that day
At least for its end.
What I do have is this day, simply this.
(1/28/26)
Taken a light cosmic journey in a
hyper-luminous light vehicle.
I view space grandioso of "light bulb,"
blue big blazing bedazzling beacon;
a brilliant bright behemoth blistering.
Warp to a Pulsar star:
I view its pulsing light;
projecting prominently, its
pinpoint precision is like an atomic clock timing
Light-speed to:
Magnetars: mighty magnetic magnets.
Neutron stars, neutralizing objects.
Quasars, with their active-galactic beams
beaming like a gama-ray space spot-light laser.
I sling past Black-Holes that warps space-time:
they bending back all light matter,
behind their total black darkness horizon capture.
I continue warp-speed throughout space with
the use of fusion and some anti-matter.
I, a frontier intergalactic astronomical time and space traveler.
Homebound now; this of sometime in the far future.
“Beneath a lover’s moon, sweet summer breezes in.” by Poet
So softly summer breezes in around mid-June.
Lovers kiss and reminisce, walking in the sand.
Maybe they have wed and are on their honeymoon!
Lovely are such warm evenings walking hand in hand.
Then Summer gently flits from June into July.
Like a butterfly is she, and her wings are bright
and beautiful like fireworks that light up the sky -
a long sweltering day dissolving into night.
Sometime in late August, a sadness sweeps through me.
Though roller-coaster, cotton-candy days abound
along with days of front-porch sitting, sipping tea,
I sense melancholy creeping in the background.
Beneath an autumn moon, sweet summer slips away
in late September, yet sometimes it even seems
to linger on till one Indian summer day -
it waves farewell to me, then hides inside my dreams.
So softly summer breezes in around mid-June.
Then Summer gently flits from June into July.
Sometime in late August, a sadness sweeps through me.
Beneath an autumn moon, sweet summer slips away.
For Brian Strand's the 'ALL YOURS (Feb 10)' Poetry Contest