Long Stages Poems
Long Stages Poems. Below are the most popular long Stages by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stages poems by poem length and keyword.
“I have journeyed within myself,
Scanned rumblings of the inner self
Lent my ears to the inner chime
Within grasp of the sands of time.” By author.
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The Journey Within
The journey within, for diverse souls,
Begins at diverse stages of life,
For some since early days of childhood,
Goaded by parental mentoring,
For others during the course of life
Driven by coincidence or a quirk of fate.
For some it`s an insightful journey
Shining with light of enlightenment,
A straight-line excursion to top of a mount,
For others a nebulous trip shrouded with haze,
Veiled with dark doubt and deadly dread,
A sporadic trek ceasing at foot of a hill.
My journey within glowing since days of youth,
Sparkling through exposure and learning,
Has been deeply anchored with quest to know myself,
To find who I am and my goals in life.
Storms of life sustained from fate and men
Have propelled me to scan deeper within myself,
To treasure peace and bliss in solitude
At the shining lake of my inner self.
in Canada we watch the Canada Geese
each Spring soaring in the sky
majestic against the sun
returning to us
their huge wings outstretched
flying in forked formation
honking all the way . . .
nothing is more beautiful
than their landing on ponds and rivers
they glide to a stop
with a splash sending water high
as they are a huge bird ~
they come in mated pairs
and soon are building ground nests
bowl-shaped in the reeds and grass
where two or nine babies are born
they do that three times a season
resulting in groups of babies
at different stages . . .
both parents care for the goslings
sometimes, other goslings join the parade
and stay with the group for one year _
so lovely watching them
guiding the yellow babies and bigger babies
across the water~
today, we watched some
junior geese learning to fly
graceful, peaceful
In a room where shadows hide,
Life is held by a thread,
To a wooden finger tied,
Waking up the sleeping dead.
Carved in wood and polished sleek,
Porcelain faces and painted eyes,
Never allowed the freedom to speak,
Bound by subtle, silent ties.
Stages carved on party lines,
Falsehoods masked in paint and plaster,
Crowds seduced by staged designs,
Dancing for an unseen master.
A gentle flick of the wrist or palm,
This one fights, the other one weeps,
A tempest held within a calm,
While the master, his secrets he keeps.
Voters cheer the staged debate,
Crowds react to every pull,
Blindly marching toward their fate,
Told the ballot box is full.
Cast the spotlight on his brow,
Rip the shroud of myth away—
See the hollow monster now,
Painted iron, cold and gray.
Glassy eyes that never blink,
Cogs that churn without a heart,
Teaching men to never think,
Tearing living souls apart.
Strings above and soul below,
Every step a scripted grace,
Only he commands the show,
Stepping back to leave no trace.
But then,
The heavy skies begin to part,
A blinding light breaks through the dark,
To shatter every wooden heart
And strike the gears with a sacred spark.
The God of glory will reveal
The grand deception of the stage,
And turn the tables and set the seal,
To snap the strings and break wide the cage.
The grand deception falls away,
The false control is stripped and bare;
The clay was never meant to sway
The One who formed the breath and air.
Who is the master, who is the puppet,
When the final curtain falls?
Wooden heart or human spirit,
Silent in the empty halls?
My love
I searched for love...
and my search led me,
to your front door...
and so my love,
won't, you open it to me?
I've lived my life in stages...
and I keep on turning pages...
I want to write you,
into the scene...
but, you have to let me in.
Chorus
My love...
don't you know, that you're the one
I've been searching for?
I've waited my whole life for you...
Now I'm standing in front of you...
My love...
don't you know,
my love is strong, and it's sincere...
and I'm still standing here...
no need for you to fear...
All you need to do is trust me,
and my love will set you free.
Now we've found love...
and together,
we can rise above...
cause we know,
that troubles will appear...
And whenever
our life changes...
our love, will rearrange it,
cause through it all,
our love will stand tall,
and, all our burdens,
we will bear.
Chorus
My love...
don't you know that you're the one
I've been searching for?
I've waited my whole life for you...
Now I'm standing in front of you...
My love...
don't you know,
my love is strong, and it's sincere...
and I'm still standing here...
no need for you to fear...
All you need to do is trust me...
and my love will set you free
chorus repeat
fade to zero
John Derek Hamilton
August 22,2017
She said, "Your love lives on pages"
Not in real-time, not in life stages
Every kiss was a line you rehearsed
Needed your heart, not merely a verse
I gave her metaphors for fire
She just wanted warmth, not a choir
Now it's silence where she once stood
I’d take it back if I could
I held the pen, not her hand
Chose the words, let go of the chance
Built her dreams in second drafts
But never gave her what would last
Yeah, she needed more than plans
Of broken songs and paper strands
Guess this kinda love doesn’t land
When you hold the pen, not her hand
She said, “You’re more in love with the rhyme”
Than with me, or a really fun time
And maybe she was right all along
Every ‘I love you’ just felt like a song
She was real—but I chased fiction
Felt love, but missed the conviction
Now she’s just my pen’s closing scene
In this tragedy my poetry dreamed
Yeah.. I held the pen, not her hand
Could not escape in shifting sand
I gave her poems, but never the man
And now she’s gone, I understand
Yeah, she needed more than my brand
Of hollow rhymes and poetic fans
Guess paper love ain’t gonna stand
When you hold the pen, not her hand
No rewrite can bring her back
No chorus can fill this lack
Every verse just fades to black
She was needy, I was slack
I held the pen, not her hand
And now I write what I can't stand
These broken words never my plan
But they’re the truth—I wasn’t the man
She needed more, she took command
There’s no time I’m all out of sand
Finally, I understand...
I held the pen... not her hand
I held the pen...
Not her hand...
Kids Getting groomed on the internet
by sex pests with interests, I can’t digest,
break down barriers of trust and build respect,
parents notice difference but true danger, don’t detect,
so beast carry on free going through stages.
Hi how are you building towards intimate exchanges,
kids much younger in age can’t see what’s ahead,
next turn unpleasant and dangerous maybe even dead.
About to live and learn not on the curriculum,
a mental scar to never leave their head,
all out of computer chat in which conned by the sick,
someone older using con-artist tricks, sick.
When face to face outside the class room,
kids are helpless, without influence or power to trace,
their predators unstoppable and mean,
like a hippo and a flower this horrid scene.
Accessing the mind through cyber cypher on the web,
now trapping the body like a spider with no regret.
Not only were they messaging
they were keeping and eye and spying,
get the kids on side by exploiting
parents love, and space teens get supplied,
pushing parents out whilst interacting in lie.
Arms length in chat rooms with text in sight,
until arms get pulled through screens on dark unholy nights,
kids charmed by opportunist lunatics with no life, so tragic,
lost with just sick thoughts made in to habits.
A stranger on-line is very much a danger,
always,
on-line stranger danger.
Kids, keep your friends in reality,
and strangers behind screens,
web friends aren't friends, fact, you see,
web friends are friends who are mean.
LEGENDS IN SILENCE, VOICES ETERNAL
Hip-hop icons who faced life’s toughest trials,
Pen laid down, eternal rest in Hades or the stars.
Some losses don’t just echo; they hit hard,
In the stillness, debates are sparked.4
TakeOff, 28 — a quiet genius, finesse in flight & style,
Orbiting greatness, until violence made him fly.6
Tupac, 25 — a legend, prophet, poet, a flame of truth,
Shot into shadows, the system took his youth.8
Biggie, 24 — a wordsmith, heavy with dreams,
A vision too grand, vanished at the seams.¹°
XXXTENTACION, 20 — a whirlwind of sound, emotions laid bare,
Searching for identity, then the sky fell unaware.¹²
Nate Dogg, 41 — the eternal hook, a voice like velvet,
Bringing warmth to evenings, yet time wouldn’t let it.¹4
Eazy-E, 30 — a rebel’s mind and Compton’s pride,
Concrete intellect, but the era’s wounds couldn’t hide.¹6
Big Pun, 26 — a titan with rhymes that spanned the ages,
His craft kept Latin pride alive through all the stages.¹8
Young Dolph, 36 — a king who stood tall and free,
His hustle and legacy of strength lives eternally.²°
Pop Smoke, 20 — tomorrow’s voice, silenced too soon,
Dreams felt unsafe, trapped in a room.²²
King Von, 26 — a chronicler of danger, stories too real,
His story closed the book on him, fate did seal.²4
Nipsey, 33 — a marathon thinker, preaching ownership,
Building futures, but death had a grip.²6
They didn’t just rap; they voiced the pain,
Hope chronicled through bruises and strain.
Fame offered no shield, talent no guard,
Influence couldn’t armor them; life left its scarred.³°
This poem serves as a warning, not just a show,
A lesson, not a headline, as I urge you to choose life & grow.
Their bodies may rest, but their legacy thrives,
Gone too soon, yet their spirit & legacies survives.³4
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
Copyright ©?15th February 2025.
LOVE IS BLIND
Love is blind
that might explain all the groping,
the endless touching,
the constant need to get closer –
to whisper.
Love is blinded
by lust’s desire to gaze –
longingly - into the abyss
of a lover’s eyes,
fall weightlessly
through the stages of romance,
sleep in the scented dreams
of satiations pillows.
Love is blind
and in its blindness sees
only the object of its love,
believes only the words
of its Braille touch,
knows only the fulfillment
of itself.
Love is blind
to all but that which it seeks,
knows only what it senses
in the heat of the moment,
consumes only those who seek
its sightless beauty.
3/30/2016
submitted to – Cliché – Poetry contest
sponsor – Silent One
No longer Serves me
Dear Self am I resisting changes?
consistently exploring in this web
of deja vu of what no longer serves
me. Stages in my life have been
heartaches and heartbreaks similar to
a bow and arrow have more drawbacks
then ups now releasing and being carefree.
Hopes and wishful thinking seem like
cousins to disappointments broken
trust and disrespect that I will no longer
entertain no longer serves me, letting go
gibberish chatter, will I ever see changes?
hopeful thinking, will it cons to pass,
difficult to grasp am I avoiding the reality of
questions at hand usually cause of idle talk
bringing up one's past yet now I'm so
unbothered by things that no longer serves
or brings substance and growth I am
stronger than yesterday's things that no
longer serves me.
You've reached the top, so
there's nowhere left to climb.
Enjoy the mountain view now
for there's a shortage of time.
With every step you take,
tread gently and stroll long
for bagpipes are awaiting
another moment's song.
Come down with graceful ease,
like an eagle, gliding low.
When you reach the sower's ground
there are mysteries below.
12-9-2020