Long Standing Poems
Long Standing Poems. Below are the most popular long Standing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Standing poems by poem length and keyword.
Standing in the corner, watching all the love and romance
Watching the twirling couples with envy as they dance
The fast ones and the slow ones, they dance the night away
But I remembered what you told me, just the other day.
Yes you can dance if you long to, dance your night away
Dance until the dawn arrives, and the start of a new day.
But no matter how long you dance or which partner you dance with
Remember they just want to dance, they don’t have love to give.
The dance that is important is the last dance of the night
The last dance that you dance, will be with the one who loves you right.
When we are on the dance floor, and the rest of the dancers are gone
The dance will be for us my love, a dance of love that goes on and on.
On the dance floor of desire which is the dance floor of such love
We’ll dance the last dance together, as close as hand in glove.
The last dance will be a slow one, and will last our whole lives through
So save that last dance for me my love, the one that loves you true.
©~GG~ 10/01/2013
Old granny had a funny wish,
To go back to her teens;
She had always been yearning
To travel back to her youth;
For nobody admires her figure now,
And says to her 'you are pretty';
Whenever she sees young charming girls,
She could not help but envy them and think:
'If only I could get back,
Atleast for one day to my eighteen.. '.
Then this craving started to occupy,
All the corners of her brain;
Until one fine day, at night,
It all popped up as a dream;
As her eyes succumbed to slumber gracefully,
She believed she saw something she disbelieved:
She was standing in front of a mirror and
In it, old granny saw her own young teen!
Wrinkled hands here, smooth hands there;
Saggy skin here, appeared to be taut skin there;
Weary face here, fresh face there;
Imperfections here, seemed perfect there.
Granny's happiness knew no bounds,
That she jumped and danced in joy in dream,
And thanked God for answering her prayers!
As she relished for some time,
In this illusory delightful bliss,
She woke up with a start from the sleep,
Only to see her own self
Lying in the bed: old and weak...
Dated: 11/19/2020
Submitted for: Juxtaposition Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Second Place
Imagine there is no pandemic, vaccines and creation of controversy and lies
Imagine there is no wearing of masks and breathing difficulties
Imagine there are no social distancing and no people going to sleep in hunger
Imagine there are no barriers between the rich and the poor, that there is no one better than the other
Imagine standing hand in hand helping the needy as much as we enrich the wealthy
Imagine if corruption was punishable as much as stolen goods by he who does so only to buy drugs to recompense the apatite and that materialism wasn’t a song of praise and worship from those who have status
Just imagine if we all go to bed and there is no one hungry or impoverished and that the universe circulated the same for everyone
Imagine a Nation so united fighting together to stand together knowing that the Janitor deserves the same respect as the Managing Director
Imagine the value of education eliminating disadvantages, creation of thieves and desperation of people
Imagine IQ not calculated as being clever but caring and loving
Poet
Masego Nkuna
My ancient friend stood mute upon the hill,
Not wanting to impart the wisdom of his nature.
And I, desolate and lost begged
for his discourse.
He stood upon that hill, majestic and sublime,
while gentle winds caressed his unruly
golden hair. I walked to him and asked again.
'Why am I'?
Standing next to him, I could not help but feel,
he understood the question yet silent he remained.
I didn't hear him speak yet somehow felt
his essence.
His massive limbs reached for the sky providing
cooling shade while I, felt safe beside his
mighty frame. I saw pieces of his golden hair had
fallen from his crown.
For this robust and friendly giant knew too well
the cycle of the seasons. I again asked the question, 'Why am I'? But he uttered no reply. I sat Beside
my friend my questioning mind now calm.
The silence crept inside my soul. Its calming
stillness tickled my insides. Feeling restful and worthwhile, I looked up at the sky. And all at
once I knew, my friend had answered me.
The flock of mine, so very proud,
I’m a dwarf in midst of them all,
for each one stands tall in the crowd.
The mental might with flair they show,
for my nature I’m jeered often,
since their line I don’t like to tow.
In their group I remain silent,
when they shout caring for no one,
even if they get violent.
My own person, I’m the odd one,
I’m branded as an abnormal.
In my candid way I’m like none.
Life for me isn’t for fitting in,
it’s about standing outside heap.
In my clan a black sheep I’ve been.
A deviant from manic freak,
I make the otherness unique.
I am standing naked on a crowded street
But nobody seems to be noticing me
I am less embarrassed by my nakedness
Than by my invisibility
They all seem to be looking right through me
Or staring down at the concrete walk
With iPod plugs shoved deep into their ears
Nobody can hear me talk
I try flagging down a taxi
But their “Off Duty” lights are on
On the black and white checkerboard
I am the sacrificial pawn
The Queen moves in every direction
The King is rooted in place
I try catching the eye of a policeman
But he has mirrored glasses upon his face
The world is swirling in circles
The Bishop runs off with a boy
My wife no longer lies with me
She prefers her electrical toys
The teacher wakes me up in class
Why am I in school when I’m fifty-five
I don’t remember being captured by the Rook
Is it possible I’m no longer alive
The King has no more safe squares to go
Laying him down is his only fate
Tangled up in a sticky spider web of life
I’m stuck in a permanent check-mate
Gorgon
standing at the edge of time
only sure of it's last breathe
No fight here in between the sheets of urban meth
Fighting with no weapons except Alla gator bite words
From Queen to king torn policies on structured kin
But in the night of surrender true to vacant calls of leanna
At cost to pen my cosmic friend turn ghostly, turned alien call me crazy call my words ripe for the picking
What peyote dreams out does kind with a potion of pair of dice
A sea of cacti lent
That frequency matches the tide that pounding wave of goodbye
When is done Gorgon eats city and towns
Ashore no more and little town of nodders and street hustlers what of me paradigm ends
Anchors away to that day
Saying Goodbye to gravity
Standing reverent in a dull cast mist
glazing my cheeks while prayers were said
so silent stood at Rand's memorial
My mind dashed to the self-drawn sketch
he staged as "The Youthful Raconteur";
profile, pipe, wavy cinema legend hair -
his final role, being lowered by rope
into a eternal, earthen wall home
Flowers fell like words fall, droplets in air
completing his circle, our circle too
His "Janie" bowed, seated solitary
almost estranged by her own dreams dashed
her beauty gone long ago, buried too
As the "Wedding Cake Couple" sixty years past
right up to the very day of their marriage
which proved a confection in itself
Rand was the one who always got the girl
perky, popular, blonde, "Homecoming Queen"
They spent lifetimes contriving their image
striving for the unattainable ideal
then crashing, having to pick up the pieces,
not content, tortured by delusions
This is how my older brother's life ends
a cacophony of misadventures
He wanted to be called only Rand
not Randall and never Randy, just Rand
So then, I always called him Randy
it's what a younger brother must do
to bring one down to earth, he was up there
Chasing fate, dashing towards his destiny
daring too often, reality hits head on
His good looks, handsome physique were no match
for surging corporate expectations
while sinking, his wake tipped lots of boats
his marriage, his family in a free fall
my piddling attempts to help were futile
Truth was, I never knew his inner mind
I guess I loved him but I don't know -
was he simply the superior image
or the vulnerable suffering reality?
So he flailed through his eighty eight years
disconsolate, in debt and detached,
his affections only came in a knot
Where were Randy's spiritual benefactors?
Are we heirs of our actions, not wishes?
Can we dream but not make dreams our masters?
So what about my own selfish frailties?
I take no pride in this awful life's play
my failures were many and to think now
I lost a life so close, that I watched
for so long devolve and did so little -
will be with me forever, this my fate;
not dashing towards the ones I love most
Written By: D. Collins 3/8/19
I wish you could have taken this ride with me.
By now, they'd be calling us both a rarity.
Who would've thunk it? Or, thought we'd survive?
Who would've given us a chance of still being alive?
Two strong, black men well into their late fifties.
I dread you're not here to take the ride with me.
When I took a left, you made a right.
God called you home to sit by His side.
Yet, I feel you standing to the right of me.
Keeping me calm. Putting me back on a leash.
If the world only knew what we have lost.
That breath of fresh air, right before the floss.
I sure wish you could have took that ride with me.
Don't worry little brother. I'm still Big-Brotherly.
If they party in Heaven, there's one thing I want to say...
Let God and every Angel know that it is your birthday.
I promise I would be a good girl when I go out into the world, I promise to stay out of trouble and return home in a hurry. I promised never to play in the street or walk barefoot, I promise I would stay in school and complete the semester and when the climate changed, I promise to graduate and study at the university.
It’s seems like yesterday when I utter such word when I was at play. I was thirteen and you were thirty-three and I always looked up to thee. You have always encouraged me to hold my head high and never look into ground that hold the dust of shame to its core, and the molten lava spewing through the hole and entering the spot where the disgraced soldier, conceptualize the plot.
I can still hear those words ringing in my ears as I walk the path that everyone fears, it is the moment of truth that is embedded in my youth and the ordeal I encountered on life’s journey comes back to remind me.
I could tell from the start that you are a heart breaker and the season come to remind me that the fault is within me and love is my destiny; when the autumn is done and winter comes along and the snow starts falling, it will fill the lakes and the trees, the ocean and sea and you will come and dance with me.
We will do the river dance on the roof and do the fire dance in a circle, then we will roll in the snow and touch each other dignity, and Boston and Richmond will come alive, Baltimore and Washington DC will take the dive, but New York and Philadelphia will ride out the snowstorm.
It seems like yesterday the climate changed and the clouds start fading away. I stood on those very steps and recited the whole chapter, I stood on that step and grasp every living character, I remember how you cast your eyeballs at me and how the mountain shook beneath the sea when you said, “will you marry me?”
“I am only thirteen, “she said, and I cannot lie in that big bed, “Yes I will marry you,” she replied, she held breath for a while and look on every side and you were still standing looking at her; then a gust of wind came, and you suddenly disappeared, and I stood on the step gazing at the wind.
The daughter's promise was fulfilled, and they walk boldly up the hill after thirty-three years in the making the universe had their blessing, the evidence is in the wind and you can hear it when you are still, winter is chiming in.