Long Stories Poems
Long Stories Poems. Below are the most popular long Stories by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stories poems by poem length and keyword.
Each of us is born the main persona
in the narrative of his or her own life.
Through ever-changing atmosphere,
supporting characters and diversity of settings,
we help to mold the rising action of our own tale.
A great variety of characters abound in our stories.
Some of them, bright pennies tossed into existence,
spin wildly on exploits which make for
the most gripping of preliminary chapters.
However, their denouement is hard to guess.
Others, silver dollar, sparkle too,
but in a much less compromising way.
I suppose most of us could fit into that category.
Giddily we dance through early life’s events.
Then on and on we go, unraveling our plot,
striving always for happily-ever-afters.
A smaller group, Olympian, glide like skaters
on ice. Not only blessed, they are also driven.
Their chronicles inspire us; they are gold!
Others, although colorful, when held up to the light,
they are shown as counterfeit, the perpetrators of pure fiction.
A few, by fate and nature not so blessed, may court insanity,
or at the very least, create confusion
with their crises that seem to come unceasingly
yet often fail to find resolution.
Possibly, if given a good polishing,
they could be diamonds in the rough!
There are others who are the spawn of a society gone wrong.
They stalk our paths, as unfeeling as assassins.
The pages from their lives can horrify.
However, those who wield great power
are also often morally corrupt, and
if their stories live on, it’s in infamy only.
These types of souls are nothing but
cold, hard cash, and paper burns or crumbles
in the end.
A final group is joyless.
Given something . . . giving nothing back,
they hoard the talents God gifted them.
They wonder woefully why no one wants
to open their books to even read
the parts that once had held some promise.
For them it would be better to have been
a rusting copper penny in dread of its own conclusion
than even an evil-doer whose story titillates
and at least gets read.
It's been eons since
Life took us in diametrically different directions
Yet melancholic memories of you
Still bloom in my mind like a flower, filling me with glee
Our fleeting union, I'll forever treasure. It's strange
Grieving the loss of what might've been. Notwithstanding
The brevity of our romance, the flame ignited between us
Still remains undimmed, flickering in the wind
I miss your captivating stories about
Your upbringing in Rio De Janeiro
I instantaneously think of you every time the song
"The Girl From Ipanema", creeps into my mind
Oh, the many fun times we had! Walking arm in arm
Under the summer sun; snuggling cozily on winter nights
The sound of your laughter, your voice
Your fragrance, the twinkle in your smiling eyes
So adoring and brimming with tender love
I remember them all too well
Thoughts and dreams of you, a smoke that will never turn to ash
If I could turn back time and relive all the happy, endearing
Even the silly moments we shared, I would. Sadly, our bond
Couldn't weather every storm that came our way
Our loving companionship, though brief, I'll hold dear
In perpetuity. Thanks for the everlasting memories
We were never meant to be
I guess that's the way destiny intended it
It's been eons since we parted ways
Like rope severed under a colossal weight
Yet melancholic memories of you
Still bloom in my mind like a flower, filling me with glee
Submitted for...
Impress Me With An Old Poem(002) Poetry Contest (Winner: 7th Place)
Sponsored by Poet Destroyer A
Date submitted: 10/08/2020
Strand Special 12 Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest(Winner: 2nd Place)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date: 12/29/2019
Best free verse April 1, 2018 to July 15,2018 Poetry Contest(Winner: 3rd Place)
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Date written and posted: 07/12/2018
Best Free Verse in July 2018 Poetry Contest/Winner(1st Place)
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
Date written and posted: 07/12/2018
Look up to the majestic sight
Towering canopy of green
Wide-reaching fronds
Bold, confident, courageous.
A tale thrilling to tell
Hurricane eruptions,
Of seasonal disturbance
Bold, confident, courageous.
Morning sun-rays filter now and then
Blocks of color
Slight variations of gray
Stand bold, confident, courageous.
Baby palm look up to the majestic sight
Amongst others on sandy beaches
Aspire to tell stories of survival
Stand bold, confident, courageous.
New plantings, appearance
Vascular tissues, circular vessels
Baby palm trees grow tall
Bold, confident, courageous.
A tale waiting to tell
The next seasonal disturbance
Stand bold, confident, courageous.
The tallest palm tree
Vie survives
We all have things in common
And at times we'll intersect;
A simple conversation
May then cause us to connect.
It only takes one common thread
To get a friendship going
And soon enough, the laughter comes
While stories keep on flowing.
We share the details of our lives -
Our backgrounds, families, travels;
The wall we've woven to protect us
Rapidly unravels.
For though a new acquaintance
May not pose a threat of danger,
It wasn't long ago that person
Was a total stranger.
Yet if there is a chance at all,
Then people should converse;
Ignore the opportunity
And wouldn't that be worse?
The world is overwhelming
But it's wonderful to know
That sometimes we can all connect
And that's the way to go.
Write Me
your ballad of beliefs
your epistle of emotions
your parable of paradigms
your chronicle of convictions
Underline Me
------------ -------
leave nothing out
embrace the honesty
bare your naked soul
Italicize Me
finesse the cadence
narrate with engaging elan
embellish with panache and aplomb
UPPERCASE ME
Magnify the Momentous
Shout from the Summits
Accentuate the Ascendant Apogees
Bold Me
use your signature font
imbue me with the vocabulary of your DNA
...the glossary of your very own fingerprints
*Punctuate*
your paragraphs with personality;
your chapters with charm -
your stanzas with s t y l e !
I am your diary of daydreams
your scrapbook of stories
your poem of promises
your litany of life
I am your tale
Write
me
written 6 July 2023
As the sky darkens
Bringing curfew to the Earth,
Moonlight kisses the sea soaked, shell filled dirt
Revealing artifacts of moments passed
Stories buried in waiting,
awakened at last.
Deep deep deep beneath
rests a power no chain can defeat.
The first rebellion, a final home
Granted in memory of their gallant bones.
Laying here, guarding weary souls
embarking into worlds unknown.
Give me freedom or give me death.
For slavery is what these bones detest.
Heroic actions of normal men,
inspiring fights for liberty again and again.
To be property and owned by your fellow men,
is the death of the soul, the ultimate end.
Let their actions be passed down like the wind is blown
Forever forging the unity of saltwater and bone.
The time we shared together I really enjoyed
So mach time I've waited for this chance
Probably by my advances you are annoyed
Your smile and your laugh put me in a trance
Feeling disappointed it couldn't be longer
But I give thanks for the wonderful time
For you, my longing grows so much stronger
Just dreaming surely can't be any crime
Your such a great person to spend time with
Hours and hours have passed in a blink
All the stories true you're more than a myth
looking at you desire is pushed to the brink
I didn't dream to much kept my self checked
Not being ensnared by your playful ways
All the plans I had you quickly wrecked
Not out of vile, you have kept me in a daze
The Great Lakes Engineering Works built a new boat
S. S. Edmund Fitzgerald, t'would soon be afloat
The people that owned her needed a name
President of the company was given that fame.
One of the largest boats to sail on the Great Lakes
Was a solidly built boat and had what it takes
September twenty fourth nineteen fifty and eight
Was her maiden voyage, laden with freight.
The 'Mighty Fitz' was the nickname they gave her
'Titanic Of The Lakes', sadly that would come later
For years she shipped freight from town to town
Crossing the Great Lakes, left, right, up and down.
The lakes weather worsened in the month of November
Ferocious storm's that would pull ships asunder
That fateful day 'The Fitz' took a route
Sailing to Detroit from a port near Duluth.
A hurricane force storm was heading their way
Other ships took refuge in Whitefish bay
Captain McSorleys last message, " We're holding our own"
What happened thereafter isn't quite known.
The storm battered the boat with thirty foot waves
And sent all her crew to their watery graves
November the tenth, nineteen seventy five
The 'Mighty Fitz' sank, no one did survive.
Lake Superior was where the tragedy occurred
When the news got out, church bells could be heard
The Reverend Ingalls twenty nine times he did toll
For the crew of 'The Mighty Fitz' every lost soul.
A memorial service is held once a year
The bells are tolled, they pray, shed a tear
Stories have been written, and a ballad too
Dedicated to the men of 'The Mighty Fitz' crew.
A Noteworthy Ship Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Ligouri
Written 18.12. 2017
I've been wild and crazy
A loose goose on the rampage
I partied and pleasured
And played
Rolled time up in a tight coil
Squeezing everything out
Tied the knot firmer
Stretched to the limit
Struggled wholeheartedly
With every endeavor
Pushed to my limit
Like a steamroller
Straightening and smoothing
The road ahead of me
Never looking back
Closing all the doors behind me
Before crossing the next bridge to burn
And turning the next corner
Rocking the boogie of bash
Now
Older worn and riddled
No desire - No regrets
Fastened and trussed in old blue PJ's
Watching the birds flicker
Wafting the sweet scented flowers
Taking in the air
Sitting on the same road
Not moving
This fidgety gray curmudgeon
Rocking in my chair
Still a mover and shaker
With many, many stories to share
April 26, 2020
Wild Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Slausin
chieftains trade their loyalty behind the clouds
high mountain king Carrantouhil commanding his Macgillycuddy Reeks
men of begotten rank, scheming skulduggery
secrets hide out of sight, Comeragh mystery shrouds Coumshingaun
flighty earls flee from the Lough Swilly shore
priests conspire, a king, a queen, a lord-protectorate exact revenge
imported evil stalks the land and soul of Ireland
near-on half give way, massacre, starvation, transportation and slavery
annexation by stealth, abomination
exposed Shannon artery, remorseless draining through lakes of tears
solidified karst corpses dissolving
into central mireland, ringed by coastal ramparts and remnant towers
turloughs disappear where the ground is leaking
playboys drink from black frothy pools of humour where the craic is good
where sad refrain gives way to rhythmic distraction
where song, stories, poetry, plays and dance merge in murky island brews
native chiefs are stripped of their Ulster lands
to control, anglicise and civilise a rebellious region
the area most resistant to English rule
official and private plantation, top to bottom colonisation
Gaelic hands across the channel disrupted
Scottish and English incomers, presbyterian and church of England
town and country, protestant domination
Irishmen uniting for briefest moments on higher ground
descent into cold depths of history
the Cliffs of Moher plunging from The Burren's bald barren bleakness
disfigured fingers pointing blame, shame and guilt
like the peninsular lands, Beara to Iveragh, Mizen to Dingle
stretching out to a new land of migrating hope
escaping hunger and abuse of long-robed men and women
the stifling heavy hand of implanted culture
two main layers of tradition now overlaying an unfathomable past