Long Soon Poems
Long Soon Poems. Below are the most popular long Soon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Soon poems by poem length and keyword.
Moon fades so soon through the silent night's sleep,
And its subsequent death opens sky's face
Anew to the bright atmosphere asleep,
With none seen note its transitional trace...
The passing of day,
As swift as blinking eyes' sway...
Without no delay.
The distant darkness covering heaven's eyes,
Is but a passing cloud of essence last...
Night functioning dust left to stars demise,
Romancing the moon's ray cum slippery blast.
The passing of fear,
As deafening as hopeless cheer,
Without doubt to tear.
Worrying time starts its run staring at night;
Decaying day wish for more hours long...
To level up stretched meters with might,
Uncovered desired endless pursuit's wrong.
The passing of chance,
As briskly as likely trance,
One could hold advance.
The reckless guest of power shines afternoon,
To make room for a gentle good night's bed,
When a lazy morning don't haste for moon...
Soon than necessary to fight off Sun's head.
The passing of fate,
As slow as a snail to wait...
Its fulfilling date.
Rain could not have cried the face of sky's hell,
If not the swollen eyes of heaven mourns
For saints haste has led astray that don't yell...
Of redemption before dry season horns.
The passing of grace,
As late as hunter's game chase...
That last like court's case.
WHAT IS THE POINT
What is the point?A comment so
often made,a question in some
bored moment.A reflection to pass
away some dull moments ‘til something
other provides a momentary distraction
to fill the mind with a temporal
train of thought.Soon the question
is then forgotten.Life is too short
is it not?Yes it is,pick up the ‘obits’
read the news,watch the straplines
on the twenty-four hour news.Yes
life is often very short for some!
The question then becomes so
acute and relevant.What is the
point?The point,dear friend is to
find the answer to living.What
is that you ask?To turn back to
your maker and live out His unique
design.He created you.That is the point!
Listen to me recite this and my anthology of poetry on youtube under name ichthyschiro
The elves had been loading Santa’s sleigh for the night.
The reindeer were all prancing about, with delight.
With Santa aboard, a loud, “Ho-Ho”, did ring;
on the crispy, cold air, as the sleigh left with a “zing”.
Their forms, they were lit, by the nightlight moon;
old Santa would be delivering soon.
At the first house, he came down the chimney just right;
“Clearly”, he said, “this will be a good night”!
The cookies and milk, so refreshing, they’d be;
as he gobbled them down, with such hearty glee.
On and on, he continued; delivering his gifts.
The sleigh a bit lighter, the reindeer, did lift.
As an airliner so swiftly, came crossing their path;
The faces inside, took a big, second glance.
Santa waved, they waved back; from up above the trees.
The trees seemed to bow, as he passed, with a breeze.
With each reindeer, he shared, his cookies, you see;
the fuel for his journey, would always be free.
Round the world, he did travel and all in one night.
Every creature on earth was thrilled by the sight.
To the squirrels, he brought nuts and cheese to the mice.
Koala’s got eucalyptus and horses, blankets, so nice.
Not one soul, did he miss; though he dodged a few drones.
Santa made his deliveries and then headed home.
Mrs. Claus had hot cider; a warm meal, at the ready.
Santa arrived with a yawn; his eyelids, so heavy.
Unhitching his sleigh, the elves bid him, good-night and
the reindeer, bedded down, in the barn, for the night.
Santa ate well and slept a very deep sleep;
Tomorrow would bring many orders, you see…
For the next big delivery, would take a full year;
each Christmas, came faster, it seemed, than his reindeer.
For a man in his hundreds, old Santa was spry.
To please every child, in the world, he would try.
As the elves took the orders, for the next Christmas season;
the Clauses vacationed, in the warm Caribbean.
...Things were looking quite good for them
through most of the nineteen hundreds,
until a new plague arose out there,
left nine out of the of them dead.
An incurable blood disease
that in the nineteen eighties came,
easy for vampires to get,
it killed them like us, slow, with pain.
We got our resident vampires
when we offered a clear blood supply,
legally, they’re our employees,
and science advances all the time.
Soon we hope AIDs will be conquered,
and they all can rejoin to world,
but now just go up, shake their hands,
hear their tales of the ancient world.
Yes, we’re open twenty-four hours,
and our rates are reasonable,
coupon days every first weekend
so all can enjoy this in full.
You can even become a member,
get our magazine six times a year,
see the monsters of ancient lore,
without having to run in fear.
You’ll find no other place like ours,
come see things that most never knew,
you won’t believe all you’ll find at the
Endangered Horror Species Zoo
MR. MARLEY
I heard the news,
You left our world today.
You rose, a shining star,
to take your place.
Heaven’s gates opened wide,
Our Father and the angels, to embrace,
Mr. Marley of Wyoming.
Although I only met you,
A short time ago,
It was obvious to me
When one was in your presence,
You took the time to listen!
This was your very essence.
Mr. Marley of Wyoming.
You always loved your Lois,
Grateful to God
for giving her to you.
The love was oh so real,
As you nestled beside her at night,
This kind of love could heal,
Anything that came your way!
Wyoming was your town
You served it very well!
The pharmacy that bore your name,
Respect and honour found a place!
Your sports, your clubs, your church,
Faithful servant you’ve run the race,
They won’t soon forget you Mr. Marley!
I won’t forget to mention
Your family and friends,
You spoke highly of your children
The pride of grandchildren too,
A life was so worth living,
When filled with these gifts to you.
Your richness is abounding…
You have treasures stored up in heaven!
Although I only met you,
I thank God I had the time,
To meet the Mr. Marley of Wyoming,
That was given to us all!
The way you cracked a joke and smiled,
You’ll be missed by those who loved you Paul,
You will not soon be forgotten!
In memory of Paul Marley (my friend with dementia)
Written by Grace Daub June 11, 2022
~
Dressed in an aura of simple decisions,
worn like testament carved out in stone
Leaving a pathway of honest intentions,
never once knowing that I was alone
Caught in a river expanding it's being,
swimming for shore at the edge of the dam
Seeing a valley asleep, gently dreaming,
wondering if their lives rest in my hand
Still there's a feeling of loss that's deceiving,
places an emphasis there on my brow
Wrinkles will bend if the moment is freeing,
no use in futures when it is right now
I am not special though time seems to find me,
counting the minutes that pass in the sky
Learning that clouds are a friendly reminder,
that someday soon everyone has to die
A simple recipe of water, silt, soil and clay
Nature's potion; so powerful, so useful, so dangerous
Uncontrollable and untethered is this egalitarian mixture
Loved and loathed by human and animal
Low tide, the muddy shores of the Victorian Thames beckoned
The ragged-clothed mudlark scavenged for anything he could sell
Scrap iron, animal fat, coal, pieces of rope and canvas - the daily fayre
Few pennies for bread and beer, so cruel for the young, orphaned, homeless child
They came to Woodstock and Glastonbury with a light heart
Tens of thousands flocked to share music and the experience
Rain-turned fields of mud bound them together
They freely left muddied, smiling and uplifted
Yet, in another time the mudscape of the battlefield was the real enemy
The toxic mix of natural mud contaminated with human bi-products
Was the welcome each new trench soldier received
It oozed into the very soul of every pawn on both sides
In another place, Musgum people are at one with the earth
The simple beauty of their mud huts lingers on
Tall conical form cools the summer heat
Outside, geometrical patterns channel the monsoon rains
Elsewhere, acrid black smoke hangs over the valley like a spectre
Families live and work in squalor, slaves in all but name
A child finishes a mud brick her father moulded and her mother will bake
India’s economic miracle built in the mud hell of the poor
Strong, viscous, colourfully rich
Powerful images of mud stencils of the street
Dramatic forms of the land artist’s river mud
Subtle negative spaces in mud cloth designs
Yet in one moment, nature's art supersedes
The deadly ride of everything in the mudflow’s path
The open wound of a hillside landslide
The jigsaw pattern in sun-baked mud of a riverbed
The figurative use of mud exudes negative undertones
Worthless and polluting, it described sixteenth century people and things
Mixed with a sense of extreme, an insult it soon became
Dragged through the mud by mudslinging of others, your name becomes mud
Mud, O glorious mud
You take no sides, you give no quarter
Fluid in your journey, solid in your destiny
Eternal existence assured
Old me, is that you?
Well I'll be damned.
If I could, you know I'd shake your hand.
Sit with you? No thanks, I'd rather stand,
Old me.
Cigarette? No thanks, I quit
seven long years since filter tip
lay there quivering on my lip
can't say that I'm missing it,
Old me.
Still nursing that cold can of beer?
I sank a few of them when I sat here
watched a world go by that held no sense of fear
and laughter was the only source of tears
Old me.
You're looking lean, wiry and fairly fit,
hair just starting to thin a little bit.
Yeah, I know my waist from where you sit
is more Frank Cannon than Brad Pitt
Old me.
Say, who right now's your latest fling?
Oh, her? Nice girl. Yes, I've got a ring.
Hindsight's such a wonderful thing,
no, not what I was imagining,
Old me.
Those plans you made, soon to begin?
Life's challenges you'd take on and always win?
See, by your bench, that litter bin?
Well, screw them up and chuck the whole lot in,
Old me.
Off you go and happily skate along
until the ice of youth melts and is gone
for I'll tell you now, where I've come from
you don't know what you're taking on,
Old me.
Though my future lies in wait for only you,
and all that I know you will surely do,
sometimes with all that I've been through
I desperately wish that I was you.
Hold me.
My appointment didn't show up today
So I decided to hang out and play
I circled around Ellanor's Park
wandering about in the dark
and thinking about the road ahead
The rain has just fell leaving mud
and water on the swampy ground
The pokemon go gang was playing around
disturbing nature with their silly sound
They walk up and down the wet grass
communicating with their partners
One by one two by two they showed up and join the crew
As soon as I arrived more of them anchored down
creating nuisance and spreading bad energy around
Luckily the Gods were lingering by to listen to my silent cry
They came down form the sky and spew them out of sight
so that nature could sing and dance about
On by one they jump into their cars
and drove out of Ellanor's park
I closed my car and walked over to an old bulldozer
stationed on the park's ground
the equipment was so old
I wonder if I was still in America
The owner was not around
so I climbed up and sat in the chair
and examined the levers and gears
I was captivated by a certain power
It felt good sitting in an elevated tower
It has been parked there for many days
Rust and dirt was musing on its face
No work was going on and the pile of sand
stood waiting on the ground for the fix it man
The same roads that were repaired
has been dug up and repaired year after year
The paved parts are lean and bumpy
And when I drive my truck rocked side to side
Where are the professional engineers
Cheap labor has sucked every penny out of the mill grinder
And America's roads are in danger
I watched them prowling up and down the street
Trying to figure out my heart beat
But I sat in the big old bulldozer scrutinizing them all over
I felt a sudden rush of power
I felt like a queen in her parlor
And I felt like a queen riding in a carriage
Waving to the magnificent crowd shouting out loud
If the owner was around I would ask for permission
To drive it up and down and through the town
Wolfish influence peddlers
Big belly contractors and poor skills workers
has feasted on the wallet of the county for years
But now I am in the bulldozer and I am getting
ready to run some one over
America needs a constitutional face-lift
Here I am in this big old bulldozer
feeling energetic and strong
I am ready to dig up and tear down the remaining barriers.
Fleeing Doubts
How Many Times Have You Told Me,
To Believe with All My Might?
No Matter How Tough Things Were,
Everything Would Be All Right.
I See Times for You Have Gotten Hard
And You're Looking Sad and Blue,
But Don't You Think What You Said to Me,
Might Just Work for You?
You Don't Have to Practice What You Preach,
But I Think Therein Lies the Key.
You must Believe the Things You Say.
Your Own Advice Will Set You Free.
An Evil Seed of Doubt Will Grow,
One Thing Feeding on the Other
And If Allowed to Grow Unchecked,
All the Good Will Soon Be Smothered.
So Begin Anew and Look Around.
Then Go down Upon your Knees.
Give Thanks to God for All You Have
And Soon Your Doubts Will Flee.
Connie Moore
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