Long Still Poems
Long Still Poems. Below are the most popular long Still by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Still poems by poem length and keyword.
The perfect petals puncture the fabric’s purple-blue,
And silver-platter fins paint the water every hue.
A globed sky has thawed, ripe with pine and sapphire stars—
And the glinted sheen of the oil graze on your lips reminds me who and where you are:
South; below the electric-white moon,
Bright enough to bleach my bones and leave me a fool.
Both sun-blind at midnight, rainbow scales in the night light,
Finding the love in the cracks of your paw—unlimited, yet finite.
Newborn, yet aching, with nothing left to give,
With famine’s touch still singing, but no love to let live.
It was my intention to escape you before we met again,
But the bends of the grizzly river flow, uncaring and unwavered—
And now your soft claws have my head, again wishing to be savored.
2025.03.10
Victoria Labour public holiday.
I was playing the piano at the M Central,
For hours, every thing was fine,
Until I headed up and saw a line.
I then realised, many other people
Also wanted to play the musical instrument.
I stood up as they clapped.
I believed they were glad,
I gave up and let them play.
I left the place and headed to the train station.
I planned to go to Frankston,
But there was no direct line.
I have to either change at Caulfield or Richmond,
I was not prepared for that complication,
I got on the Cranbourne line
And got off at Southern Cross.
The Williamstown and Frankston trains
Arrived at the same time,
On a shared platform headed opposite directions.
For no apparent reasons. I chosed Williamstown.
The images of the beautiful harbour town,
Flooded into my head.
The images of the transquility, the water still,
At the shore line, there were ferries, ships and cruises,
Private yatches and sails to name a few.
The main street divided the park and
The hustling and bustling famous Nelson Place
All of a sudden, I then realised,
I was not fully equipped to travel any where.
I had no hat, sun cream and all that to observe
The slip, slop, slap, seek and slide,
I did not want to risk my life.
And play game with UV harmful ray,
I have a handful year to live and play,
And I want to be happy and healthy
Continue on travelling, playing music and writing poems
Not to be miserable with the skin cancer's battles.
Last but not least, my phone's battery was flat.
I had no choice, I had to get off,
And took the train headed back home.
Not before I stopped by the station,
Got myself V-Line tickets to Paynesville.
Were it only once
would have been enough
to change my world forever
Were it only once
would have been enough
to drive away my sorrows
Were it only once
would have been enough
to bring hope to my tomorrows
If were it only once
It would have been enough
to wash away the many tears I cried
Yes if it were only once
It still would be enough to wash away the loneliness that lived inside
If it had been just once
Yes even if it had been just once you would have healed my broken spirit
Bringing life and color to my world and everything within it
If it had only been one time that you kissed my face as you told me that you loved me
It would have been all that I ever needed throughout eternity
If it were just that one time
The stars would still shine just as bright
the heavens would rain joy on me in daytime and at night
Don’t you see !
Don’t you see !
Oh my god do you not see ?
You took this broken man and with your love you rescued me
You gave me hope when I had none
You replaced my clouds with a shining sun
You hung the moon in my evening sky
Yes you, you are my reason why
You are my everything
I sense Him..' I feel light-headed, there is the rush of blood to my muscles, His power descends...
My mind is opened, words form; fitting together
Visions reel in my minds eye, and in my eyes.)
I feel trembley... I face an abyss of self-doubt,
Is it me.? No its not; I try to come to terms with
This reality, for the how many hundreth time..?
Let go..Let go.) And hold onto this inflow, how this
Contradicts my analytical mindset, I am lost in the
Finding of my purpose, He must become part of me
I understand the symbology I am grafted in.' What
I think I do: is not the right understanding It is ' us' And I am not worthy...Not at all' let me lay in the Dust Lord, for I fear at your prescence, and yet it
Is still not an adequate description of yourself.'
Liars..Deceivers..You who coat His reality in the
Sweet taste of imagination.' Who has seen His fire?
Have you watched Him divide the elements? If so
Then you will be more able to understand the word
'Fear' when you are 'weighed' in the balance.' When Surrounding existence holds its breath, but that is still
Not a right enough description, for 'He' Owns that 'Breath' also, All is subject to him.. He calls the wind and it
Waits on His whim, He is the Almighty God from everlasting to everlasting, Uncountless people and
Spirits bow and serve Him gladly, He Is He who was and Is and Is to come.'
'Twas the night before Christmas and I was still shopping
when I would much rather have been bar to bar hopping.
I juggled bags of presents that cost far too much dough.
The sidewalks were crowded and then it started to snow!
I scowled at a chubby fake Santa who kept ringing a bell.
'Twas another Christmas Eve straight from the annals of Hell.
I stopped for a coffee at Starbucks and got a leaky cup.
I've had just about enough of this mayhem. I'm fed up!
But I couldn't go home, not yet. I had more gifts to buy.
A guy bumped into me. My patience was in short supply,
so, I pushed him back and ducked inside a jewelry store.
He came after me with clenched fists, and ready for war!
A security guard leaped into action and threw him out
I stayed put for a while because I knew without a doubt
that man was waiting outside, and I wasn't ready to die.
I sang, "Oh, you better watch out, you better not cry..."
Since trapped for a while, I thought I'd get my wife a ring.
Emeralds or sapphires would do. She'd like a little bling.
The price was exorbitant, but I wasn't ready to leave.
How much worse could things get on this Christmas Eve?
A question I should've never asked, and I'll tell you why...
There's no Moana Dolls anywhere for my daughter. Sigh.
Santa was coming to town but beneath our tinseled tree
my kid would cry out, "Santa didn't leave Moana for me."
"Sorry," the saleslady said, "I'm afraid I sold the last one."
Tis the season to be jolly, but I'll be glad when it's done.
What's a dad to tell his kid about the flaw in Santa Claus?
I bought her a little puppy and named him Santa paws.
I walked down a slippery street with a dog on a leash.
What a sight I must've been; a grown man crying, 'SHEESH!'
But I was headed home and in need of a shot of whiskey
because Santa Paws was beginning to get a bit too frisky.
'Twas a wretched night before Christmas I'll never forget.
I waited too long to shop and paid the price with regret.
Santa's elves make his toys and reindeer pull his sleigh,
but next year I'll be doing my Christmas shopping on Ebay!
November 24, 2022 ~ The Night Before 3 Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Night clings.
You sigh through the gears,
wave-ride after-shocks,
follow stretched-out beams
into the first gray unveiling
of the light
The sky can now be seen
shadowing itself.
Clouds weep dry tears,
and yet leave puddles
around your eyes.
A cloaked dawn
squints,
flickers weakly over the lower lid
of a lifting horizon.
A tepid sun has
pastes itself onto the distance.
So far,
the road ahead has had a blind ability
to avoid the Niagara’s or the Grand Canyons
of trouble ahead.
Just as well
for your mind has been sleep-driving.
The drunk rocking of a back axle
warns you of a rift in the drift.
You pull over for some eye squeezing moments.
Feel the road still racing up and down
your spine.
Phone in hand
your voice sounds hollow,
as you explain how first light
came late,
and it is really slowing you down.
Wounds Into Scars
by Odin Roark
It takes not a wise man to know
What we resist
Will persist
So goes the healing process
Just as a tree
With its heart and initial carvings
Carries its scars with little notice
So too might we carry our own
Those verbal
Physical
Spiritual
Lacerations
Often a suffering performance
As if they were for public view
The small child knows early
“Kiss the booboo”
And mothers are quick to reinforce
The child’s need
But as we grow
We forget the essence of a mother’s care
The mother’s empowering way
To repair with love
Instead
Many wear pain and sorrow on their lapels
Trusting a confused society
Often glorifying pain
Placing many an open wound
Before audience-sympathy
Unknowingly substituting exploitation
For the teachings of maternal empathy
How wanting one’s instincts can become
Innate reaction to hurt
Once serviced by natural response
Too often succumbs to ego pampering
Rather than seeking the axiom therein
That place where accepting the hurt
Seduces pain into questioning
Bringing to bear
The precarious courage
To learn the lesson
Of self-love’s curative
Might it be
Like mother nature’s engraved trees
At any age affliction reminds us
Growing is still the purpose
Injuries and scars inevitable
Like the tree
Perhaps it’s really a question
Of how we absorb
And treat ourselves
From within
Who would have ever thought
All of living could come to this
Mourning over what was
A perpetual state of exclusionary bliss
Pop! Went the weasel, as she moved,
Toward the only difference to give her voice
While he skipped along behind
As the man who yielded to woman's choice
Out from original creation, she came
He, never quite...the same
Throughout HIStory, memory of time
Has scratched on the dotted line
Lie after lie, causing man to believe
Nothing of the original creation
Learning passed new and tantalizing sensation
To bring humanity to retrieve
............................RESTORATION
She was brought to humanity
On cloven tongues, fifty days from ascension
To comfort and teach, maybe even reach
The part of the mind that desire's retention
One span of time was devoted to feeling
The second, the age of reason arrived
When Wisdom looked upon her children
She sighed with relief that TRUTH had survived
.......................treason
In the bed, yes, always in the bed
The majority are fighting off attacks of fear
Some sleep in comfort, with memory
Replaying all the dreams of previous years
Still, there is a remnant.....engaged in battle
Riding to war without a comfortable saddle
.................Mercy riding on Wings of LOVE
It's that line, that ALWAYS leaves void, in the mind
And that incessant need pulling back on the DIVINE
.......................for Pity's Sake............let me at least......................REMEMBER
Written by Trudy Schrader on 05/29/2020
I don't think that he really did come home
He spent too much time there all alone
Some memories is all he has
Living thirty years in Alcatraz
Convicted for something he didn't do
All those years who ever knew
The jury's guilt gave him time
They said that Chazz had did the crime
True evidence was never there
I guess the jury just didn't care
They had no one who they could blame
They had to come up with a name
So they found someone named Mr. Chazz
To spend some time in Alcatraz
To live thirty years there all alone
They didn't think that he'd come home
But he got out and he was free
Now he can be who he can be
But at sixty nine is there a life
Is there still time to find a wife
Some memories is all he's got
From thirty years he's got a lot
So he went back to Alcatraz
The last we heard of Mr. Chazz
Gaining muscle
Restraining lies,
It was time for a new beginning.
And though it pierced unmercifully,
the dagger still won this round.
Fresh blood eliminates the guilt and the forgiveness plunges into the ground
an eery waltz is the only sound-
remembered from the memory,
where good met a horror story
and like a one hit wonder
forgotten.
Like the sound of your transparent voice,
the scold of surroundings
and the walls' whispers-
belting out the truth
But they don't matter anymore
The microphone shattered and your hearts beating 3 times as fast
you don't seem to remember-
A comatose dream-
inexplicable.
The regrets of the other half,
reversing into the cursed walls-
Are endless,
pointless.
Sympathy wasn't ever an option-
and with an easy way out-
Blame.
Guilt becomes all else
And while your hand points out,
three fingers point right back.
When all is gone,
It's done
The end of the storm has lightened
And now the sun lies-
high in the sky-
seeing all truth
but you still sit there, smiling-
forgetting,
one by one
they
fall,
drop
down the stairs,
no railing.
And trying to pick it all back up,
you kick my back.
Losing balance seeing those eyes for the finale
And I drop it all,
hit the ground
And it took that fall
To realize at all
That Ive given up
And there's more to come.