Long Stairs Poems
Long Stairs Poems. Below are the most popular long Stairs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stairs poems by poem length and keyword.
If I were rich with treasures stored up
of gold and silver and pearls,
I’d exchange all my riches for just one day from the past,
when you were little girls.
Such lovely little girls you were, with shining golden curls,
Laughing, and playing, and imitating-
What a wonderful world it was!
Never mind, that we were poor,
For we had God, and the church, and each other,
And “ things” weren’t nearly so important then,
To a little girl and her Mother.
We cleaned, and shopped, and planned ahead,
To graduations, college, and weddings.
What a time of wonder we have shared!
Now I wonder where each of you is heading…
One day soon, I’ll leave this world,
With all its troubles and cares.
I hope, my dears, when it’s all over down here,
I can greet you at the top of the Golden Stairs.
Waiting at the bus stop,
it started with a glance,
but somehow, they got talking,
pretty much by chance,
when the 501 arrived,
they both went up the stairs,
where luckily there was,
a front seat they could share,
Jess said how she liked,
to sit and watch the view,
Sam pointed out the mast,
and other landmarks too,
the bus meandered onwards,
through worlds of brick and stone,
they talked of life beyond college,
and all the things they’d known,
Jess was half expecting,
for Sam to ask her out,
with the town hall clock in sight,
she couldn’t hang about,
soon they would both disembark,
to go their separate ways,
she felt now was the moment,
for her to seize the day,
Jess told him her tutorial,
was due to end at four,
Sam said he’d be waiting,
by the refectory door...
The spiral staircase made her high heels sing,
each step a new twist;
she could not resist,
this night meeting- what would it bring;
for this dark affair.
her heart best prepare.
From here the city churches pierced the mist,
he stood like a king;
his gaze a bee sting,
she had become his sex slave since their first kiss.
(after, he descended the stairs to the door, where)
They found her shattered,
her purse and all the contents scattered;
it was evident to the police that she had been battered
_________________________
May 7, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/The Spiral Staircase
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1020-378-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, One, Nine, and Sixteen
sponsor, Viv Wigley
Fourth Place
Grasping in the midst
As the days have gone by
A silent of a voice as one did cry
A listening sound as the tunnels got dark
A day in remembrance as the ocean light sparked
A cry in the wilderness from the deep sound of noise
Listening in the winds as the darkest days mourned
A silence upon as the trees blowing limbs
Until one day the time got near
A quiet moment in the air
As one did stare
A breath of fresh air
Renewed in the presence
Stairs climbed fast
A look upon disguise
As the other take a breath
So very surprised
Lights are dimmed
A light turning bright
In the middle of the day
Until the sunlight
Whispering winds abroad
As a loud sound recalled
Grasping in silence, like a breath of fresh air
Dreams as an awakening thought
Was it all amidst?
Just a dream awakened to the reality
A moment of a dream eventuality.
Everything is beautiful at this time of day,
Following a quickening morning shower.
And the huge orange pearl that is the sun
Is just beginning to shepherd its endless power.
The spirit of divine blessings carries me,
In a vision, to the center of this sacred lush glade.
There lays a stone walkway crossing a footbridge
In a course toward stairs of rock on a rising grade.
Then immediately before me, a shrine-like temple,
With finely carved work exhibited on every side,
It appears to be the craft of the Eternal Builder himself,
To whom the fairest beauties of nature have replied.
It bestows its stately head of glittering spires to the sky,
Resting upon its noble structure of stone buttress and turrets.
The remaining stairs, I bound, and through the gilded doors,
Into the cedar and marble interior, a work of matchless merits.
The artifacts are carved to satisfy the eyes of God,
And, for amenity, a cruciform lamp high in the ceiling of the shrine.
Comprising the interior are two large and lavish units,
The nave consecrated to the body and the apse to the mind.
The golden glow of the lamp exalted the light in my eyes,
So I turned toward the door and gingerly stepped down the aisle.
With head bowed, I walked through the gilded doors,
Feeling the tender glow of the light on my back all the while.
*“The evil that man do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;”
Shakespeare in Julius Caesar
Self Love
Time has now dawned to start loving myself
After fifty-five years serving others
In public sector with love and passion
With striking sincerity of purpose
With deft devotion and dedication
With candid commitment and conviction
With integrity as the best friend
And holding honesty in the right hand
As inscribed in the contours of my fate
Irrespective of who`s at helm of state~
Serving at diverse rungs of the ladder
From the lowest steps to the highest stairs
Caring for the health of the public purse
Sinking in the sea of stark stagnation~
Carrying bricks to rebuild the country
To make the land a better place to dwell
For all, heedless of caste, colour or creed
Regardless of tints of flags they brandished~
Oft stuck between the anvil and hammer
Serving as screen against storms and showers
With the shoulders burdened with heaps of loads
Some times to the detriment of my health.
Now ditched down the deep well of oblivion
By so-called friends, envious of my seat
Who used me as props to climb the ladder
And nestle themselves with safety at ease
As ravenous wolves in sheep`s clothing
As lizards changing hues to suit their needs~
Such is the fate of the evolving world
Where one`s goodness is interred with one`s bones*
Or turned to ashes and sprinkled away
To sink in the solitude of the sea.
Now with hair turning grey and the bones lean
When moving hundred steps is a burden
When the body night and day pines with pain
I feel that during my long journey of life
I have turned my back to loving myself~
And now is the time to carve a small spot
In the corridors of my senile heart
At long last to grow the grains of self love,
But not to close the door to share with friends
Lessons learnt to brave the wafting wild winds.
My voyage of life has brought to the fore
Self love is not synonym of ego
But at day`s end a decent desired goal
To be myself with my stress, strains and strength
Just a solitary human being
Singular like a single shining star
Scanning the deep sea of the inner self.
I do here and now declare, and I will not spare I will not sit quietly in a corner and simply stare To seek new avenues of care, do I even dare? Indeed, I will arise, shout it out and share I will reach for the angels at the top of the stairs Who are sent by my loving God who really cares My ears will not listen to the voice of strangers God's eyes are watching and protecting me from dangers My heart shall be continually renewed and my pain subdued,
Because with God's grace and love, I am being lavishly infused.
021419cjFBPoSoup
Poem was inspired by a friend who stated the words 'wasted pain' that have stayed with me. I am therefore writing this based on my perception of her words.
I had one finger sandwich, one cracker with cheese...
but I was not satisfied, only with these,
so, on my way home I had a burger with fries,
and a couple of steaming hot cherry pies.
When I got home, I had one pizza, two burritos,
polished off with three bags of Cheetos.
I heard a voice that said, "Stop eating this slop",
but it was too late, because I could not stop.
The refrigerator was empty, so I ate up four chairs,
I ate the table, and I ate up the stairs.
Before you knew it, I'd eaten the whole house,
I didn't even spare that poor little mouse.
I started to cry because everything was gone,
but I felt much better when I ate the lawn.
My stomach was hurting. You might say I was reckless,
but I kept going and ate half of East Texas.
I ate up the earth, and I ate up the moon,
I ate up the sun with my hands, not a spoon.
I ate up all the stars, and I ate up the sky.
Nothing is left, so I bid you goodbye.
Whining, it happens when blizzards come calling
Grabbing a jacket I walk down the stairs
Beside the window where winter is lurking
Waiting about as if nobody cares
Coating the trees with a cottony fabric
Not quite as warm as the heater detects
Here in the handbook of problems and answers
Only for masters to come and inspect
Grabbing a scarf from a shelf in the corner
Pouring a cup just to dance in its steam
Maybe some sugar so life can be sweeter
And just a dash of your half and half cream
Kicking the mud from the boots made of rubber
Purchased on sale at a shop on the beach
Next to the flip flops and lotion dispenser
Low to the ground and so easy to reach
Those were the days when the sun wasn’t hidden
Blanketed white like a sheet on a rope
Held up by clothespins of wooden construction
Seeking a breeze with the fresh scent of soap
Shoveling sidewalks and not chasing seashells
Feeling the cold as it bites through your skin
Running a faucet to thaw every finger
When will it be time for all this to end
I guess I will go out and trudge through the weather
Deal with the snowflakes, the slush and the sleet
Before too long I’ll be sweating the summer
Probably whining about all the heat
We drove in two separate cars a few miles along the ocean shore
I am not afraid, life has been depressing, I just don’t care anymore
We turn down a pebbled driveway, with lion statues guarding the gate
I am shocked when I see us approaching an old Victorian mansion estate
Frank gets out of his car, his blue eyes bright and with a smile on his face
He tells me he just inherited this mansion and is busy renovating the place
He takes my hand as he leads me up the granite steps and into the foyer
He tells me he has a case in town, and has also been working as a lawyer
We walk through a marbled living room and into a nautical themed den
He tells me he has lived here since May as he inherited the mansion then
He then tells me that he has known about me and is distant cousin of my ex
I start to let my guard down, even though I am not sure what will happen next
He looks into my eyes and smiles, takes my hands and gently kisses me
I enjoy his kisses and let him embrace me closer, not feeling afraid only free
He leads me upstairs to his master bedroom with a view of crashing waves
I am so amazed and elated, but I need to slow down and not give in and cave
He takes my hand and leads me out through the French doors to the balcony
We sit in antique wrought iron chairs while sipping wine, just like a fantasy
I suddenly start to feel very sleepy, woozy and faint, not sure what is going on
He then carries me to his large bed, lays me down and the curtains are drawn
I wake up the next morning, realizing I am naked under the covers in his bed
Trying to remember last night, as I start to worry with some feelings of dread
Relieved, I hear Frank coming up the stairs as I start to relax and calm down
But instead an older woman walks in and stops and stares at me with a frown
I am shocked, I ask her who she is and if Frank is here somewhere downstairs?
She tells me she’s the owner, Frank was a contractor hired to do some repairs
She’s been scammed, the job’s not done and Frank's gone with all his tools
I feel a tear run down my face, as I realize I was played and now a gullible fool
11/2/19 The last and 4th part of The Distant Shores Series
Anything You Want Contest
Judged and NA'd on 11/2/19
Writing Challenge - December - Any poem NA'd in November 2019
Sponsor, Dear Heart- Wiishkobi Ode