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.


Ms. Jealous Girl 3-1-06

Ms. Jealous girl thinks she's better than me
Why should you be mad at me for the things I can do?
I live my own life and do my own things
Why are you so jealous of my life and such?
Ms. Jealous girl wanted to where I go and who I chat to
It is none of your besswax what I do and don't bother to ask.
I am sick and tired of you telling others that you're jealous of me
And sick of you telling my man things that you made up about me.
Ms. Jealous girl stop asking the girls at work if I'm there or not
Because I had it with you and ever since you left, I don't want you coming around 
starting trouble with me.
I don't want to speak to you or see you at all and leave me al alone.
Ms. Jealous girl, you're not welcome at my home and see my friends there
Because we all don't want to be your friend.
Lies and Lies and I was sick of it, really from you.
You got mad when I went out drinking with friends from work
You got mad at me when my man and I went out or away for a while
You got mad at me when I wasn't scheduled for work and yelled at me
You got at me for things I can do, even cleaning around the house is one thing 
that you never ever did in your carppy life.
Ms Jealous girl, stop calling here at the house, cuz your ex Kevin doesn't want 
you back and not allow to step foot in the house
You call crazy hours of the night just to get a hold of him but he also has a life 
and you get jealuos at him going bar hopping with his buddies and you got mad 
when he goes out with my man.
Ms Jealous girl, if you come to see me at work and start things with me, 
All I can say to you is this,
"You have been totally JEALOUS of me for the things I can do and where I go and 
leave me alone. No one at the house want to hang with you." 
Ms Jealoud girl, you have your own things to do and don't worry what Iam doing 
next week, next month, or next year. I have better things to do.
Ms Jealous Girl, let my pals and I do our own things and don't call my place when 
I go out.
Ms Jealous Girl, everyone is sick of your lies and you gotta stop that or everyone 
around you won't want to be with you.Ms Jealous girl, want to know her name? 
Her name is Tiffany and she is known as the 
Ms.Jealous girl cuz she is STILL JEALOUS OF ME FOR DUMB REASONS AND 
SHE NEEDS TO STOP BEING LIKE THIS TO ME.
Ms Jealous Girl, I have a life and better things to do and screw you!
Form:


The Dark, Dark Room

The Halloween Party was in full swing
Witches, wizards and an alien thing
with tentacles and one huge eye
Flourishing a laser gun shouting "Die".

Alison and her friends Ada and Jo
Were all dressed as feline kittens "meow"
Carl and Simon had laced the fruit punch bowl
As the evening drew on it took it's tole.

Drunkenly a bet was stupidly placed
Who of them would last and not be outpaced
A nightly vigil at Haunted Creek
Where rode a phantom horseman, there to seek.

Everyone there all knew the awful tale
Making in unison a quick inhale
It was long ago in 1702
A mounted stallion there cast a shoe

The rider's name was Squire Abraham Knight
Was set upon and put up a good fight
He was then butchered for a gold doubloon
Was then thrown in the creek and found at noon

Unexplained sightings, that then disappear
have been recorded, it is very unclear
Warnings come from parents to their own child
No-one goes there, it is left to grow wild

With youthful bravado they all met there
Torches flashed around, as the trees stood bare
Alison and her friends huddled together
Shivering in the inclement weather

Bart and his brother camped down for the night
on a hillock, keeping the creek in sight
Joining them was the terror gang of four
Troublemakers, who all acted hardcore.

Two hours later it started to snow
Huge flakes falling and wind began to blow
"I've had enough of this" said Alison
"I'm all for going home. I'm all done!"

Eagerly agreeing, walked back in step
Suddenly Jo tripped up and in pain wept
"Can't go further, my ankle is wrecked"
Leaning on shoulders, onwards they all trekked.

"No, I can't, please, you must stop", poor Jo wailed
"It's agony! she gasped and then inhaled.
"Come on Jo, we can stop at Adam's place".
"We will make it there at a slower pace.

Adam's place was an old abandoned farm
"No, not there!" said Ada-May in alarm
"Afraid of ghosts and ghouls?" mocked Alison
"More like rats and spiders and not much fun!".

Giggling they arrived at old Adam's place
The moonlight showing fear on each girl's face
"We have to go in there, we have no choice"
Jo jumped. "Was that whinnying of a horse?"

On that retort they threw open the door
Stepping inside, they all dropped through the floor
Not one of them survived their dreadful doom
Trapped, without rescue, in the dark, dark room.............
Form: Rhyme

Whats My Calling

I know I have a special purpose for my life, 
I'm just struggling to answer 
One question, what's my calling?
I don't know. 

God I'm struggling I don't know what to do
What is it that I want to do?
I thought I knew at one point, but that plan didn't go 
Like driving in a car but the air won't flow.

I know I'm your beloved son
And in me is whom you are well pleased
But sometimes I feel lost 
Without a guide to point me down the right path.

Help me to see who it is I'm called be,
Who am I supposed to lead? 
I don't have any answers 
I pray you speak to me.

Help me hear what it is you want from me
As I begin to cry, I wish I could wipe my eyes 
But tears still continue to fall from my eyes.
 
No matter how much I try my cheeks will never be dry 
God I don't what am I supposed to do? 
Pray and wait for you

I remember a few weeks back, my friend sent me a text 
Saying she supports and believes in my dreams, 
My parents said the same thing
So I know I'm loved and supported 
By love from up above
 
Open my ear God I need to hear from you 
What it is that I'm called to do? 
Show others the light of Christ
How can I do that, when I don't even know your calling for my life?

I feel like I'm letting everyone down 
I have no answers.
I want to make an impact but can't reenact my old plan 
I accept that I need help, God reveal your plan. 
I put my life in your hands
Please show me your perfect plan 
And I will be the best me that I can
I give you full control, 
Help me get my life under control.

I know I'll find my place you always make a way
No matter what path I take you will make everything okay
I have chosen to follow only in your ways 
And read your word for the rest of my days.
 
I'm not in this on my own there's no way, 
I can't make it traveling my own way 
I need help, I need advice.
 
I know you'll never leave my side 
No need for me to duck and hide. 
You're glued to me, more like me to you 
After all, everything I will ever need is found in you.

My old nature has been tossed out, 
I'm a new man with a new plan 
Reequipped and reset
Now I'm ready for the next step. 
Get a vision, create a path, 
Time for me to get my life back on track. 

I know I have a special calling on my life
To share the light of Jesus Christ 
What's your calling for my life?
I don't know what's my calling?
Form: Lyric

Puzzle Stomped

"Puzzle Stomped"



Pieces scattered
placed on a table 
with boundaries 

between 
the incarcerated margins 
there are strict conditions

Time drips 
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted 

imperfectly
perfect 
towards upwards 

new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication

behind her veil 
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses 

holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded 

the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to 
free the redressed vicissitudes 

to undress the crisp breeze of her 
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets

gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes

Somewhere, 
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle, 

cutting tall poppy
each step she takes 
towards her freedom gate

In his hands he cups
the hidden 
missing piece

The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep

along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime

their spelt magic 
grows majestically spoilt 
seeded from a sweet perfume 

conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged  
off all the slippery knaves 

and wax-sealed pages  
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings 

turn into suffocating 
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces

She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints 
for a new road home

He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song

the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance 
thundering over a stormy mind grows

patch worked with glassed-in 
jarred ghost bees, the old 
puzzle of a story stomped on

He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time 

Beyond takes her hand 
And sensually whispers 
along all her fairest fears 

sweeping all pieces off her 
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable 

forgotten 
left lacking 
on the harsh floor

Cum dederit 
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas 

to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung

the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon

Time for a new story
He says darkly 
and swiftly closes

Past’s door.


(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)

Across Fair Fields

Run across the fair fields, as fast as you can run, the fields your grandmother ran as a young girl,
Over long lush dark green grasses, whipping your knees, soft spongy turf springs each new step,
To stop where fast flowing streams rush and dance to the wind, a sweat breaking out on your face,
All out of breath kneeling by the bank of a brook, a stitch in your side, corn waves like a gentle sea.

By the brook with childhood friends enjoying sweet company watching spring as her beauty unfolds,
To walk across wet water mead’s, seeing glades in their finest clothes, to a meadow, in full flower,
Rolling in grass making camps sitting legs crossed as warm summer breezes temper-sweating brows,
Making sure you sit next to the one you care for most, nothing will be as good as this day ever again.

Playing in the meadows where your grandmother played, picking daisies, making very long chains,
Holding buttercups up to chins to see if they shine, then laughing, shouting out loud when they do.
Playing kiss chase, slightly slowing down, when the one you want to be kissed by is chasing you,
Under old pear blossom trees, flushed rosy red cheeks sitting next the one who is your first love.

Laying in high grass chin in cupped hands, it is so special this lovely day will be yours for all time,
Just staring at friends, full of innocence and so happy, this romantic time can never be repeated,
Unplanned moments where beautiful things just happen it’s your youth just enjoy the here and now,
Where everything is brighter has more colour, smells from the meadows become a memory for life.

Laying on your back staring at turquoise watery skies, listening to the silence, a perfect sunny day,
Heaths meeting small woods surrounded by greenest carpets only seen by a child’s pure innocence,
Give your heart and soul to this day enjoy natures gifts, your end of days will recall these moments,
Falling asleep in the December of your life, this last dream your friends will be there waiting for you.

So gather these thoughts, tie them up in a bow, put them safely in a corner of yesterday’s thoughts,
And walk again with your dear young friends in those happy times golden hair fluttering in the breeze,
Back to days of cotton dresses and turned-up jeans with baggy shirts, nobody noticed or even cared,
Hold your sweethearts hand once again and run across the fair fields where your grandmother ran.


The Barmaid and the Pedlar

There's an old English song called  All Jolly Fellows That Follow The PLow.  The tune works fine as is for the chorus and with the verses if the tune for the 3rd and 4th lines is repeated for th 5th and 6th. Well, it works for me but my singing has never been much hindered by tunes.



It was after that big game one long gone September,
the score line was one I’d like not to remember,
in a small Richmond pub not too far from the ground,
we all settled down with our sorrows to drown.
We were well on the way, as were most of the crowd,
when in came a young pedlar a shouting out loud.

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Cried the barmaid, “How many do I get to a yard?”
“Madam, four if they’re soft or three if they’re hard”
She felt for the soft ones, she wanted a lot,
but the more that she squeezed em the harder they got.
She found not a sausage was e’en a bit soft
so she told the young pedlar to go get far offed 

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Said the pedlar, “Why madam no need to be rude.
And in fact what you told me was verging on crude
But you don’t look so bad for a foul mouthed old sow
so step on outside, if you like, with me now.
If you play your cards right I might squeeze your left breast.
If I find I like that I might squeeze all the rest.”

Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.

Said the barmaid to pedlar, “You are a right jerk,
I’m a barmaid and never do mission’ry work.
But if you're near to the shops and you buy me some eggs,
I might squeeze that there pimple you’ve got ‘tween your legs.”
Then she said something that made the whole crowd guffaw,
“And will you stop off at home and please check the back door?”

“
Sausages, sold by the yard or the pound!
Get a fresh sausage, the best to be found!
It’ll make your wife happy of that there’s no doubt,
with her very own snag she won’t need to dine out.



For Cyndi MacMillan's pub song contest
© Red Omara  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ballad

My testimony

In the tapestry of life's intricate design,
A journey filled with love and loss intertwine.
From childhood's embrace to the call of duty,
A path of resilience, courage, and beauty.

Blessed I was with parents whose love knew no end,
Guiding pillars, companions, forever friends.
With every step, their love paved my way,
Teaching lessons of kindness, all through my day.

I joined the Marines to see the world's vast expanse,
Encountering new cultures, taking a chance.
In the midst of service, love's light I did find,
Meeting my soulmate, destined to be mine.

Love at first sight, a bond unbreakable and true,
Discovering in her, my reflection, a clue.
Embracing the role of husband and father with all of my might,
Living my life, filled with love's pure light.

Tragedy struck, tearing apart my happy home,
Loss of my wife, and mother, I was left alone.
Grief's heavy cloak enveloped my days,
Yet through the darkness, my spirit would not be swayed.

The strength of a woman, my mother so dear,
Fighting through pain, and facing her fear.
Caring for her, as she faced her final fate,
In her grace and courage, with God there's no debate.

Through loss and pain, my writing became a guide,
A channel for emotions, for tears I had cried.
Penning poems of raw truth and grace,
Touching souls, shining a light in that dark space.

Seeking to share my words, to reach those in need,
To offer help, hope, in every word  indeed.
Mental illness, struggles, faith's ebb and flow,
Uniting humanity, in joys and in woe.

I hope my verses find wings to reach far and wide,
To touch hearts, to heal, and in love abide.
In sharing my story, my voice it finds its power,
An offering of empathy, in life's uncertain hour.

I can only hope my poems are a beacon of light in the night,
Shining for those who may have lost their sight.
A testament to resilience, faith, and love's grace,
In a world that yearns for kindness as it's embrace.

With each stroke of the pen, my story is told,
Of love, of loss, of courage so bold.
In sharing my journey, and truth leaving nothing unspoken,
May hearts be lifted, and barriers broken.

Thank you for reading my tale of  joy and woe,
I  hope my words continue to inspire, to grow.
For in storytelling, I find my peace, and in the memories I hold deep. 
And in love and faith may our souls the Lord shall keep.
© Jimmy Baer  Create an image from this poem.

My Youth In Asia

i was eight
the first time-
i saw Yin-Yang Mountain.
the height of it’s peak
contrasted by
the light on one side
dark on the other.
as the sun travels
from east to west
the color of the slopes change-
the light becoming dark
the dark becoming light.

i stand on the peak of Yin-Yang Mountain
watching the shifting
light and dark.
the line dividing the sinuous halves
is my being.
am I dark or light?
a white line or
a black line?
i am the curve between.
i am the difference.
i am the deciding factor.

i stand now 
beside the River of Life.
my feet bare-
i step into the cool waters
observing the shifting reflection
and shadow.
the current swirls the dark and the light.
this life giving, fluid filled gully
brings darkness when one is consumed
by its waters.
above the light is reflected-
below it is swallowed.

soothed i sit-
resting below the shelter
of the Tree of Constance.
the trunk is thick
made of layers of living matter within-
dead matter out.
the dead bark surrounds
the living core-
protecting. 
from this sturdy core 
branches shoot towards the light.
from those branches shoot buds-
which contain life-giving seeds.
the seeds fall to the ground below.

laying upon the dark
mineral rich earth-
i imagine.
below my body burrow
insects and roots.
they depend upon the fertile 
ground for survival.
humans have turned this earth into 
a burial ground for the fallen.
the rotting bodies consumed in darkness
feed the creatures who dwell
in the earth.
these departed whisper
knowledge to fallen seeds.
imparting wisdom-
to ensure growth.
I return to the peak-
of Yin-Yang Mountain.

from this peak i observe
the mixture around me.
here on this peak I know
the answers.
i am the wisdom.
this knowledge has paralyzed me.
with this gift i have been silenced.
i am the dividing line-
i am the question.
with faith I fall-
from the peak of Yin-Yang Mountain
into the icy waters of the
River of Life.
it’s turbulent ebb and flow
fills me with life 
and destroys me when dragged upon its floor.
i wash upon the shore
gasping for air-
clinging to the root.
I succumb.
i begin to rot-
feeding the earth-
that feeds the tree-
that thrives beside the river-
which dwells upon the slopes
of Yin-Yang Mountain.
here i will remain-
until discovered-
and then understood-
this 
my Youth in Asia.

Suicide

Yesterday she killed herself by hanging from the ceiling
It carried her weight but she could not
She was everyday troubled by the future worries
All she wanted a good tight sleep, away from all the distress and depression
Hence she ultimately chose to sleep forever leaving just a small note behind
Note to thank her parents for taking care of her
For bringing her to this beautiful world
Note to thank her brother for making her smile
For engaging her in his little games which took away the sorrow for some seconds.

It was not an easy step
It was a step she always wanted to avoid
but couldn’t.
It was not a sudden random step but the one which was very carefully choosen
A step taken by fighting her own thoughts
Fighting her own body
But she chose it
Chose it to completely end
Completely end not only her life
but also her grievances and torments

She fought, fought with the whole world
But at last lost
Maybe she was afraid of getting called a failure
A word which bothered her, haunted her
A word which affected her so deeply that she chose to end herself
A word which terrified her more than death

From getting straight A’s to barely passing her tests
From loving to communicate with everyone to barely speaking to her own parents
From being extrovert to introvert
From loving colours to attaching to black
A colour which she hated but now loved like hell
From having several friends to none by her side
She saw all....
She felt everyting but never expressed.

She tried, tried very hard to make her parents proud, tried every possible way to please them but couldn’t
Her parents gave her all happiness
She got everything she wanted
Her parents barely bought for themselves
But always got the best for her
They spent their hard earned money like water for her smile

But she was not able to make them proud
She was not able to meet up with their silent expectations
No they never forced or pressurized her
They always supported her
But she a overthinker could not see her parents working hard, neglecting their health for her while she could not even make them smile.

No she doesn’t blame anyone for her...
She blamed herself
She thought of herself as a complete failure
A disgrace for her family
A frustrated, defeated and born loser
Incompetent and disappointment

And she left the world with a
smile on her tender face....

Flame of Hope

When the wood to the fire that fuels us runs out and our flame flickers within, we can fully rely on God’s illuminating lantern that can be seen through all forms of darkness, confusion, and has the everlasting flame of hope and a wick that never runs short. Stay in the light.

	Hope is like a flame that never gives up its brightness or shine. Some days the ugly side of life opens its mouth wide and spews troublesome wind that howls and screams, trying to snuff out that flame. Other days the still flame stands alone and just wants to be found so that it may give you comfort and relief, but is often overlooked. Nerveless the flame shines on. 

 Hope is the security that you attain in life so you can have reassurance within you that you will not be overtaken by adversities. It is a free gift of precious armor constructed in Heaven by the finest of angels. The armor was melted down into shape, measured perfectly, and given to you to wear for all of this life like an inflated vest that keeps your head above the violent waves that this life can try to drown you in.

Hope is the promise of rain when the sky is full of storm clouds. Hope is in the night when you’re praying for morning to come quicker. Hope is in the young and the old. Hope is for the hopeless. Hope is a robe of love that is a one size fits all. Hope will find you before you seek it out. Hope offers itself to you like a secure shelter to take refuge in like being in the middle of a relentless storm. Hope always has its arms wide open for you. Take a step closer and embrace hope in an everlasting bond.

Hope will make you put one foot in front of the other to the point where your left foot will be jealous that your right foot is taking a step ahead and then your right foot will be jealous about your left foot going forward until that gentle walk in the light becomes to be a joyful and exciting sprint to the next part of life.
	
Dear Lord,
Lead us to stable ground and refuge for our aching hearts to rest and heal.
Help us not to overlook the hope that You offer.
We venture to far places in this life God. 
We know that You are before us so that we may follow You in Your loving foot steps.
God, You love everyone and anyone. 
For Your love is infinite and gentle. 
Jesus Christ, blow Your powerful wind our way so our sails can catch the current and lead us to smoother sailing. Amen.
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