Long Step Poems
Long Step Poems. Below are the most popular long Step by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Step poems by poem length and keyword.
Seven year old Boy with a dream
Aspiration to become a Senator one day
At an early age, the young boy needed to know how with the specifics
He tried doing research on his own, but didn’t quite know the fundamentals with concepts
Politics has terminology all its own
The young boy tried to practice, practice and even act like a Senator
He didn’t have the formation stance that a Senator has
He needed to know what exactly how to serve his community
There was a Senator in his area
The young lad would often pass a Senator’s office, and this time would step in
The Elected Senator saw the youngster and asked could he help him
The young lad responded, “He wanted to be a Senator one Day, and wanted some pointers”
The Elected Senator responded with that is a tall order, and stated it takes commitment
The young boy had determined in his eyes, and the elected Senator saw where the young boy was serious
The Elected Senator explained the responsibility, legislative, and guidelines
The young lad was intrigued
Politics was being a captivation along with debates
The young boy now knew more and more about structural of politics and was now getting the basics
The teachings rolled on and on
Time has transpired, and now the young lad was now 17
That’s a long way from 7
The experience gained through Politics theory was starting to pay off
Wisdom and knowledge expel
Grown man with an ambition and was ready for the task being a mission set up and set out
His political campaign was a strategy to get votes and live his dream from the beginning in being an elected Senator and stepping on the floors of the Capitol in Washington, DC
It was election day, and the votes will be counted
Low and behold, the young then to now being the grown man getting the overwhelming vote to be an Elected Senator for his community
Thanks to “Thanks to WE THE PEOPLE” who put him in
Imagine one dream
Possibilities in one thought
One Elected Senator being the Mentor and Teacher
Victory making all happen in one aspect.
Spin me a dream
etched in witches screams
in your Halloween black cauldron
with mighty warlocks marauding.
Stir the liquid concoctions
blend the dissolving toxins
into a hue of blood red drippings
with finger nail and toe clippings;
spit into the flaming fires
make your wish in lusty desired mires;
slip away the veil of night
scare and taunt the children in flight;
screech and howl ,bay at the moon
as flesh and sinew melt upon the mixing spoon,
shake the skeletons out of the trees
freshen their graves with faded flower sneezes;
step lively and step quick
eve of the dead lay in the air heavy and thick
slay the monsters and the broom riding witch
in pumpkin orange feathers and blackened pitch
Poetry and poker may seem worlds apart,
One deals in words, the other deals in cards, But both demand courage, instinct, and heart, And knowing when to play your hand from the start.
A poet lays feelings upon the page,
A poker player enters the game with a wager, Both take their chances, both step on the stage, Both learn that every decision has a measure.
A poet may bluff with a metaphor or rhyme, A poker player hides what’s held in their hand, Both know the value of patience and time, And sometimes you win simply by learning to stand.
In poetry, your words can be your greatest play, A single line can change the room in a heartbeat, In poker, one card can change the whole game, One moment can make victory bittersweet.
Both require reading what isn't being said,
The pause, the silence, the look in an eye,
The words left unspoken, the thoughts in your head, The moment you choose to hold on—or say goodbye.
Sometimes you take a chance and go all in, Sometimes you fold when the odds aren't right, Sometimes the greatest victory isn't a win, But having the courage to step into the light.
A poet risks rejection every time they recite, A poker player risks losing every chip, Yet both keep returning, chasing that moment When everything comes together in one perfect trip.
Because life is a table, and we're all dealt a hand, Some cards bring joy, while others bring pain, But it's not just the cards that determine where you stand—It's how you play them when they come your way.
So I'll keep writing my verses,
And I'll keep playing my hand,
Because poetry and poker both help me understand:
Sometimes you have to bet on your heart,
Sometimes you have to trust your soul,
And sometimes the greatest hand you can ever play Is simply having the courage to tell your story whole.
By Shawn Muñoz
As I walk out into the world today
I hide the pain on my face
In its place is a smile with the heart of a child
So innocent, sensitive and sweet
Wanting to love and be loved from the crown of my head
To the soles of my feet
But the pain of the past got me caged up inside
I feel like I’m losing myself and I just need to hide
God has taken over and this bondage can’t abide
No one knows that I rarely smiled as a child
No one knows that I grew into a rose then I was defiled
No one knows how I sometimes oppose teachings of Mother Earth
Then step my haughty feet in the street
To project the same pain and hurt
I’m surprised that God hasn’t returned me to the dirt
I’ve triumphed and overcame
My smile is official
I gladly face the world
Me and all of my issues
The lessons I’ve learned as a child
Have helped me not to be afraid
These blessings make me smile
I don’t have to live my life in a Masquerade
All of my hopes in those flower pots
And you
They died, just like that.
I’ve not had roses die like that.
Granted, I bought them almost dead.
I am not trying to make a comparison, however.
Out there the dead roses are all still in those pots.
Out there is you.
I was sick right after those roses died. Injured really.
I could barely walk or move. The pain was a 9.
I thought you’d take care of me, come over and make me
Lie down. Tell me to sleep. Tuck the covers up around my neck.
Bring me ice.
Something.
You didn’t do that.
You read my new magazines though, fresh from the mailbox.
The New Yorker.
I never get to read it.
I cleaned up the kitchen and scooped the litter boxes while you sat fresh
And proper in my bed.
It took me so long to do the before bed chores because I couldn’t really bend.
The pain.
I did not sleep that night because the pain was unbearable.
We have this problem. I work really hard. I have to.
Working hard is my thing though.
There aren’t many opportunities to step-in.
Then the roses died.
Then my injury.
It’s not your fault. I do find it sort of like those roses I planted –
Dying on me.
You could work hard at something.
PINNACLE
With a piggyback of hopes and dreams, I set forth to reach a peak.
Along bed of roses, rocks and tall sharp weeds, I harvested golden grains of progress. The days and nights rang a wake-up kiss on my head. They told me: "Move on, move on...Don't ever give up..."
There are rainy days on the way. A rain shower teased my climb halting me for awhile. Some so strong, I faltered - gained some wounds. Some directly stabbed my heart. And somehow, sometimes they even knocked my very soul. Although tough thunder tremors shook me, I fought hard to stand still continuing my climb.
Each height I step onto, I came to know moon and stars. Some of them began a war with me. Some of them a veil of fraud. But blessing, most have shed a continuing guiding light. Some hugged me. And wanted me to stay but some pushed and pressured me until I am all like a dripping sponge.
The potpourri situations brought me: a ladder closer to our God. His faithfulness and unfailing love a durable adhesive to my persistence and dreams.
A rainbow after each rain drew a promise of sun-kissed days. They melted the cold lonely years away. They permitted me a walk and run to heavenly meadows. Finally, I reached the pinnacle where grins a forever familiar tale.
(c) Olive Eloisa
2:07pm
October 01. 2012
Perhaps I'm naive, perhaps I'm deceived, but I read the depths of you,
Perhaps I'm patient, perhaps I'm silent, but I watch every step you take,
Perhaps I'm flawed, as you say, but I placed a coin on your dream,
And I don't recall a moment you were there to support me.
I don't remember you holding my hand and telling me it's okay,
When the sky was collapsing on us, and silence slowly parted us,
It's too late to think I was foolish to let you go far away,
When my heart was a battlefield of losses in your shadow.
In the stream of my consciousness, rivers of dreams flow, whispers of light,
And I wonder if you ever felt my heart beating for you,
When I embraced you as a mystery of the night, with the desire to keep you,
Now, in the silence of despair, I learn to rebuild my path to light.
Just as the moon embraces the sea and tells its tale to the waves,
I embraced you with all the strength of my heart, without you knowing,
Now I understand that love is not just a whispered story, but a song,
That you must write with your soul until it becomes eternity.
Gus got all of those who were allowed to attend
and "available" settled in around his big oak table.
He even put in an extra leaf to accomodate,
so there was enough space to keep from
slap fights and infighting of kin. He handed out
charmingly and diplomatically, the swami hats each containing an indian feather and a bedazzle kit- stone standard. He didn't have time to personalize
a moniker, this would have to do in a pinch.
Speaking of pinching weiners, Gus had to go to the bathroom, and was potty dancing and squinching,
this whole seance thing and having the floor for
everyone's attention was getting him excited.
On his way to the bathroom, he noticed Silky had
already fashioned his into a pimp hat,
cocked to the side as he slapped Penney for good measure to help break the hat in.
Penney fashioned hers into a pirate hat and shot Silky a look of smug mutiny. Kenny was too busy dealing
Vatican 2 pedopriest some product to personalize his for the moment. Gus pulled the hat from LizPiggo's
mouth and made his way, forgetting he locked
Nancy and Chuck in there and took a two story wiz
out the window. What a story! they were embarking
on indeed, was all he could think about,
except for the fact that he couldn't use the kitchen
sink because he couldn't find his step stool and
the arc of his stream no matter how proficient his trajectory would go all over the floor on re entry
unless he jumped toward the sink in the final throes.
He remembered what happened last time.
Wet floors and jumping were a wicked mix.
After he heard the voices seemingly coming from somewhere close "out there", he shook
the distraction off
and resolved to get back in there and get this seance underway. The spirits needed him !...
Form:
IT IS ME!
Who would you bring back to sweet home? It’s me!
Why rambling like a recluse person on thorny meadow?
Can’t you recall our redolent reminiscences?
I am here with you Dear, to step with you.
Please don’t wander as a lone traveler.
Who would you bring back to sweet home? It’s me!
Why roaming on solitary sea-shore?
Is turbulent sea stirring you in whirling vortex?
Are roaring waves welcoming and exciting you to sail?
Please don’t venture Dear as a lone sailor.
I am here, your soulmate to be with you.
Who would you bring back to sweet home? It’s me!
Why are you bewildered,
gazing at azure sky turning turquoise after twilight,
getting mesmerized visualizing stardust!
Is void vastness of firmament
synchronizing with vacuum of your mind?
Why venturing to loiter aimless and vigil at dark?
I am waiting for you with cozy comfort of sweet home.
I will bring you back to have little warmth.
10/15/18
Our nation’s like a runaway horse,
Galloping wild, no steady course.
Hearts divided, voices raised,
But deep inside, our hope’s not fazed.
Let’s bring it back, back to love,
To friends and family we’re thinking of.
Respect and kindness be our guide,
Together with love, we’ll turn the tide.
It takes us all—a hand to hold,
Community strong, heart and soul.
Listening closely, with open hands,
Building bridges across the lands.
One step, one voice, one caring heart,
Mending wounds, a brand new start.
In kindness, in truth, we find our way,
Healing together, day by day.
Runaway horse, slow your pace,
In love and respect, find your place.
Our nation will heal, with hearts aligned,
In friendship and love, a new day shines.