Long Sounds Poems
Long Sounds Poems. Below are the most popular long Sounds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sounds poems by poem length and keyword.
Tropical, ocean tides, that flow and seek
Blue sea sparkles resplendent with foam peaks
Soft music strums, magicked the stars delight
To shimmer and wink in the sky, so bright
In to the water, a fisherman falls
Death stalked and beckoned to the coral halls
Sweet Olookaylani, you came for me
Siren mermaid, sleek, glorious beauty
I muse in you, my love, do you hear me?
Ukulele sounds drift enchantingly
Are you the light that flashes yes, I sea
Sweet Olookaylani, come back for me
Moon glows, bioluminescence, salt sprays
Love longs, warm breezes, blow kisses your way
Entered in “Beautiful Sonnet Contest”
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Placed 7th
"Lo, there be Giants under foot
In just a moment I'm going to face my Giants
I am just an ant on a hill Looking around me for the foot of danger
I hear the swift sounds of the wind
As the foot comes down around me almost on top of me
I running flea I let my six legs compel me
Scaffolding like a leaf in the wind I flee
Beware the foot of the giant don't become complacent compliant
Be defiant
For if he steps on you
You're through it's the end of your world our world
I decided myself to hide in the cabin caverns beneath the Sun the moon the stars Disguise tunneling away from disaster and let not the monster giant be my master"
My troubled waters ran deep.
I could not sleep.
My heart throbbed in awful pain.
Then you were on the phone again.
From Australia twice a day.
Every day that fateful month.
I hovered between life and death.
How much worse could it get.
Soothing, comforting sounds you made.
Saying "Please don't be afraid."
Loving me more than words could say.
You build my bridge day by day.
Blood is thick and you knew me well.
I was close to the edge, you could tell.
"Stay alive for my sake!" you begged.
In that moment I was saved.
Beautiful sister I owe my life to you.
Now my troubles are so few.
I crossed your bridge onto dry land.
On that day you grabbed my hand.
In a time when the oceans drank up the land
and kings ruled the earth by the warriors hands
The souls of millions embellished the battle
Minions in armor mounted and saddled
Death came swiftly with the swing of the blade
Children forged in blood the way real men were made
Weakness and fear were trampled into the ground
and the clashing of steel overtook the battle cry sounds
but as time goes on needless to say
the warrior is no longer needed today
I see only cowards being portrayed
Vessels without honor where emptiness strays
The definition of man has changed completely indeed
but the warrior remains the last of my breed
The warrior remains........... remains in me
I am the warrior
Have you ever seen the twlight,
Beyond horizon,
Above the reachable eyes,
Having stood same for all
Of all around the world.
For all it's veins longing for the sight.
Have we ever lived soulfully-
For all the days until the end.
Does nature ever divided lives,
By differentiating its presence,
And distinguishing it's color from one to another person.
But why does the world divides lives for ever
Caste, Creed , Color and Race.
Filling veins with gush of hatred-
From one to another
And filling hearts with selfishness.
Do we to care for the loss of one another
If we are rich enough to see the twilight
If the others ever cry at the sky
If the others die for the lack of living lines.
Should we all care for our neighbors
If they face a difficult living.
If we see the vision of the world
Should we all live alike and lead;
Behind us all of timely massacres
By managing lost lives beyond our walls;
It is possible to reach the vision of our lives-
If we foresee the torture to other losses too.
"come with us" we say to the world
Behind us which lacks in knowledge,
Which leaks in it's construction of goodness.
Sound world perhaps
Sounds our health,
Sounds our happiness,
Helps us in our inevitable future.
It is possible to reach the sky
At least for once
For all of the world and it's men
To feel great
For having reborn this day!!
I have this friend; a really great guy.
Always happy; always spry.
And then one day; he stopped and sighed.
His lips moved twice and his smile died.
I said "What's wrong", and I got real worried.
Until he told me of his ex who scurried.
We both got mad and it got mean,
but before we left;
nick-named his queen.
At first I listened to what he said.
But soon the swears had reached a head.
Only now I knew what he would scoff at.
We both yelled "Down!" to
ANNA THE PROPHET.
She talked about Jesus and of his dance.
Talked about locust and took a chance.
Shocked and surprised with each worried glance.
Made strangers as fast as United States' France.
She said let's be friends and left him alone.
Still calls him for coffee by way of the phone.
And if this sounds sweet, special or kind.
It's to drive her to work or she'll lose her mind.
My friend is a Saint and won't turn her down.
Hurting her feelings would knock off his crown.
And when they drive by, you'll tease them for sure.
But not for a coffee nor being too *****.
For turning their heads, in light of a tear.
My friend is a man; so don't be his judge.
All of his stories come with great grudge.
I know he is weak and tell him to stop it.
Not for a woman.
Anna the Prophet
There's little or nothing to do,
it's a February rainy day,
Danny molds Batman out of brown clay;
snow is melting after Saturday's blizzard...
I spot a hopping lizard
chase a scary hoopoe!
I strum on my steel guitar
a new melody unique and sad...
who knows it might be a symphony
with the simplest melody;
I'll add lyrics, thinking they are swords
that scare and defeat vicious warlords!
I play it on a snowy night in January
when no sounds are heard
and thoughts aren't muffled...
by the presence of a gentle wind
that doesn't scatter the snow and goes far
to caress with its cold breath a jealous star!
There's little or nothing to do
on this rainy February's day,
this guitar keeps me company
and strumming its strings,
it gets me through this long Saturday's blizzard;
nobody will wake up: they are chasing dreams,
nobody will see my monotony...
but Jessica who listens sends me a Kudo!
Wondering
Up and down
The halls
With each fresh step a new class
Filled with sounds of papers being passed out
Students on their phones
Pencils under too much pressure,
and Groans of laptops
As I continued to walk past each class
I heard them
My head started filling up
Filling up with all the possible things I could have done wrong
Now with each not so fresh step
Being a little heavier
Eyes
All on me
When I walk by they become a lot louder then they were before
Why are there voices weighing me down?
Why do I care?
I know I have done nothing wrong.
So why with each step, did my feet feel heavier and heavier
When I finally made it to where I was going
I turned back
To look into the eyes that were connected to the voice
But when I turned back Nothing
Not a single pair of peering eyes on me
Not even the faintest whispers
Everything just
Gone
When my beloved lost his battle bravely fought for many years
All alone in deep despair each day I drowned in my own tears
Then one spring morn, just before dawn, I heard the sweetest song
A blackbird singing his morning chorus, such joy not heard for so long
The song he sang had many words, expressing his love he waxed lyrical
I felt my beloved had sent me a gift; it was truly my morning miracle
And sometimes during summer evenings for his final curtain calls
His singing calms my mind like soothing sounds as water falls
He came to me a week ago, such a welcome springtime surprise
For winter time so dark and lonely a season I often despise
I had missed him so through winter’s snow and anniversary tears
Now thrilled my morning miracle brings music to my ears
Written 15th February 2019
Contest: Music to my ears
Sponsor: Silent One
2nd place
Contest: Late Feb 2019
Sponsor: Brian Strand
1st place
Traditional Format
Compassion’s finger strums another note,
he listens as the angels start to sing,
recalling lines from what apostles wrote,
indwells the spirit held by Heaven’s king.
Succinctly spoken leaving soul in tune,
the gifts we need are never under trees,
mosaic mustard seeds lit by the moon,
aspires our gaze and prayers on bending knees.
Submits himself to love and sounds of grace,
mistrust no longer drowns and mutes his heart,
united song with Christ, him to erase
so many sins in mercy to impart.
In essence, life and hope beyond today.
Contrasts the world, as it dissolves away.
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Acrostic Format
Compassion’s finger strums another note,
He listens as the angels start to sing,
Recalling lines from what apostles wrote,
Indwells the spirit held by Heaven’s king.
Succinctly spoken leaving soul in tune,
The gifts we need are never under trees,
Mosaic mustard seeds lit by the moon,
Aspires our gaze and prayers on bending knees.
Submits himself to love and sounds of grace,
Mistrust no longer drowns and mutes his heart,
United song with Christ, him to erase
So many sins in mercy to impart.
In essence, life and hope beyond today.
Contrasts the world, as it dissolves away.