Long Successes Poems

Long Successes Poems. Below are the most popular long Successes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Successes poems by poem length and keyword.


Unselfish Love

I was blessed to know a woman in my life
Who faced hard times, struggle, and strife.
A Chinese immigrant, she came from a poor town
Lost her husband, was kept from her daughter, but not kept down.

She had three other children who were born here
Getting them a better life was her biggest fear.
She had to fend for herself and them alone you see,
Speaking little of the language in this foreign country.

But, she had always lived a determined life
So she fought back...with a fork and a knife.
She opened a restaurant in a small community
Where her gracious manner made her friends instantly.

Her children would grow up in town with new friends
The restaurant she opened was the mean to her ends.
She worked very hard...sometimes eighteen hours a day
She never complained because that was her way.

Her life's expectations knew more successes sublime
The restaurant grew...one egg roll at a time.
She once told me of the anxiety she felt at the money she'd spent...
Laughing said, "My uncle said sell 2 qts of Chop Suey/Day...you've got the rent."

She was a woman who chose kindness as she felt had to her been shown
To people far and near her generosity was known.
She was thankful that she had the opportunity
To give back with love rather than animosity.

I first met her over some 30 years back
She struck me from the that moment as a person who had the knack
To make others feel at home though strangers they be
She certainly did, because she did it to me.

I still remember her caring for me...it was shown
Once caught in a blizzard, she opened her home.
So often was there a path to this woman's door
Though she stood, less than 5 foot 4.

Her heart was as big and wonderful as one would want
An earthly angel, she was heaven sent.
Though her health began to wane later in life
She never gave in to that world of strife.

Her eyesight began to fail and it was difficult for her to see
But that didn't stop her or her generosity.
She loved people and filled everyone with cheer
Ever thankful that she had had a life here.

Though she is gone I'll never forget her face
Or her love of life, devotion to family, and unstoppable pace.
To me I'll ever be thankful to have had the joy
Of calling her "Ma" ... ONE IN A MILLION~was Connie Moy!

1st Place Winner - "One in a Million" Poetry Contest
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Baseball In Heaven

My grandfather and I had a special relationship.

When I was young we lived near his home in Baltimore.  But, my family moved away from 
Baltimore when I was five and we lived most of my life in another state far away from my 
grandfather.  Whenever he called, however, I was the one grandchild he always wanted to 
talk to so we could discuss his beloved Baltimore Orioles.  I was the one grandchild who 
followed sports closely and always remained a true Baltimore sports fan.

Later in life, I learned that my grandfather was actually a gifted baseball player himself when 
he was young.  In those days, he would explain, professional baseball players did not make 
enough money to support a family so he had to make up his mind to either play baseball or 
get married and raise a family.  As it turned out, his love for baseball was only surpassed by 
his love for my grandmother and, although he hung on to the newspaper clippings that 
labeled him a “can’t miss professional baseball prospect”, he hung up his cleats and glove, 
married my grandmother and went out to find a “real” job.

But his love for the game survived and year in and year out, he and I discussed the 
intricacies of the game and enjoyed or lamented each baseball season based on the 
successes and/or failures of the Baltimore Orioles.  As crummy as the Baltimore bums are 
today, I was fortunate enough to experience and share many more successful seasons than 
poor ones during those limited years that I shared life with this amazing man.

I always felt sorry for my grandfather, considering him a victim of poor timing.  Had he 
been born about 50 years later in life, he would not have had to pick between being a 
baseball player or earning a living – in fact, with his talent, he could have earned a much 
better than average living while enjoying the one thing he loved most in life.

When my grandfather passed away, I was sure that he was joining a heavenly nine to once 
again strap on his spikes and don the leather.  Without a doubt, they must play baseball in 
heaven.  And I wait for the day that I sit in the heavenly bleachers and cheer on a young 
grandfather playing this wonderful game with other boys of summer.

(Inspired by, “is there baseball in heaven”, by Constance, A Rambling Poet)
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

I Am Ever - Wrong

I AM EVER - WRONG
.........................
COPYRIGHT-POETESS-MRS. ANJALI DENANDEE,MOM
............................................................................................
i am ever wrong............
i sing my life's song...
in front of the dead body........
i am ever wrong.........
i want to see ..........
the sun...........
at mid night...........
i am ever wrong......
i want to see the north star............
at mid noon............
i am ever wrong..........
i want to see the full moon.....
at the new moon.....at night.........
i am ever wrong..........
i want to hear....
the laugh of the happiness..........
just after new born baby's mouth-toothless.........
not the crying..............
i am ever wrong.......
i trying and trying .......
to stop the death...
.......... of the living body........
i am ever wrong............
i like to listen.......
the recitations .....
of the dumb's mouth.................
i am ever wrong.....
i chant in front of the deaf.........
i am ever wrong.....
i show the mirror .......
.....in front of the blind..........
under the rays-shined……………
i am ever wrong.....
i pray..........
....to the nature,.........’’ hey ! ……..
kindly ! end , the tears of the humans ‘’.........
i am ever wrong.......
so i find and find.........
……by my foolish-mind………
.......the love in the endless universe...........
I am ever wrong……….
why ? because , I reach to the destiny ……..
of the successes-ways……….
I am ever wrong…….
yes………I want to change the rhythms of the heart……..
which is in my rib cage……..
I am ever wrong…..
I again and again…….
try to control my eyes……
please ! don’t close…….not shut……
be the ever open…..
at living body………
do not blink……at awaken times………
when I arise…….
and also do not close at sleeping times………
I am ever wrong………..
though I know I will meet with my death……….
and forever will stop my movements……..
yet I  continue …… my breathings ,…….
…… always…….
……..un-necessarily………
………..freely………………..
I am ever wrong…………
to hold my age forever at stage of young………..
I am ever wrong……
I take birth ……..
……..again and again….
on this painful-earth…….
I am ever wrong…..
I waste my times for dreaming………
and request  to the time ,……..
‘’ don’t go ahead ! ‘’………………………….

Premium Member Solitude

Solitude:
Distressful 
Afflictive
Merciless
Unbearable solitude,
When you are present, Time immobile remains,
And
Each second an eternity of intolerable
Suffering becomes.

At such moments,
We implore Time to advance,
To accelerate its pace,
To hurry up

For

The next second
The next minute
The next hour
The next day to come,

So as

The pain to decrease,
Our agony to lessen,
And us to be liberated from distress,
From our affliction and from
Our ordeal
But Time – a sadist- unmoved stays,
Mocking us

And

Instead of picking up speed, it is
Dragging its leaden feet, enjoying thus itself With
Our perpetual torture,
Hence, we,
Disappointed by Time's unhurried stance,
Absorbed by its immobility,
Let ourselves sink deeper and deeper into our hopelessness,
Till we reach the deepest point of
Our being,
A place void of all thoughts,
Of absolute silence and of intense
Anguish!

At that point
We wish:
To shout
To scream
To yell
To howl

But

No voice is possible to be heard.
No one is there to listen to our call of distress.
And then
In the darkest hour of solitude,
At the culminating point of desolation,
When we thought all is lost, we realize to our surprise that
We are not alone,
WE WERE NEVER ALONE!
A tenant is there with us,
A tenant, beyond the limits of ourselves,
Of our understanding,
Of our awareness, 
A tenant who looks at us with affection
With compassion and most of all
With love,
Unconditional love,
True Love,
Yes, it is HIM
The only ONE
HE who was there before us
And
Will be here into eternity
After we are gone:
GOD HIMSELF!

We look at His Holy visage, and we discern an
Apologetic expression for
Having put us through this tribulation to be able to make
HIS presence to us, is known!
He had tried before to approach us on many occasions,
During the period of our good fortune,
Of our successes and our achievements
But
We had ignored HIS calls at that time,
You see, we didn’t need any help then,
For
We thought every achievement of ours
Was our doing
We had the erroneous notion that
Everything was under our firm control
And that
We were INVINCIBLE
But
Now we know better for He has 
Revealed to us the truth! 







© Demetrios Trifiatis
     19 January 2021

Premium Member Becoming Historical

This week I have been in much thought about my wife and our marriage of 39 years*. I have noted and deeply considered the power and impact of 'history' in both the maintenance and long endurance in a marital relationship. The future is projected to be one of hope and vision, one of anticipation and eager planning. Although nothing beyond the 'now' is guaranteed in the 'tears' ahead, in sweet peace and harmony is where one would like to be in the 'years' ahead.

I heard a story of two gentlemen engaged in a conversation about their wives. One said, "When my wife gets upset with me, she always gets 'historical' ".  In an attempt to correct his friend, the other gentleman said, "I think that you meant to say that she gets hysterical". The reply was, "No, I mean 'Historical'. She's always bringing up the past".  With that in mind, I want to make it clear that I am talking about history and not hysterics.                                      

Part of the beauty of mariage is the planning and dreams that we make for ourselves and prayerfully seek their reality. We also seek to leave some kind of legacy for our children. Notwithstanding, there is that which is behind us that can thrust us forward. Experiences and memories, both pleasant and otherwise can be harnessed and utilized to rocket us into future joys and successes.  It is often the triumps and sometimes the failures in our past that inspire us to future success. What we draw from such experiences gives us confidence for future growth and developement.  Yes, we have today. Yes, we had yesterday.  Yes, we have this moment;  Yes, by grace and faith, we have tomorrow. But indeed, we can look each other in the eyes and say, "We HAVE yesterday; we HAVE a history".

One of the anticipated desires that my wife and I began to treasure as the years flowed by was to 'grow old together'.  Many are the obsticles that can hinder and prevent a marriage from achieving such a reality.  Nevertheless, it is a real joy and an awareness of God's magnanemous grace when we reach the senior years and begin our 'growing old' together.

31412cjPS                                                                                                                                                       *Presently, 2020, 48 years.
Form: Prose


Premium Member The Tinge of Jealousy

I feel it to a small extent - a little tinge of it -
those times I hear about
friends going on vacations to fun exotic places;
friends of mine receiving special presents from their husbands;
women I have known for ages getting plastic surgeries,
losing weight, and looking now like models;

Anyone who does not feel a tinge of jealousy
toward those who are receiving the very thing
one is longing for in one’s own life
I think would not be human!
But most of us can rise above the tinge of jealousy.

All of us are gifted in one way or another.
We need to have security in who we are,
and gratefulness for all the gifts uniquely ours!
Most likely, those whose good fortune we might covet
are looking back at someone else with a tinge of jealousy.
Nobody has everything they want!
We cannot know the many facets of a person’s soul -
their hidden insecurities, their dreams left unfulfilled.
Maybe there exist a few on a higher plane
with not a jot of jealousy inhabiting their heart.
Until we reach that higher plane, 
We need to be as happy as we can be.

Congratulate successes of your peers.
Swallow any little bitterness and know. . .
with hard work, you can achieve successes in your life.
Imagine your dream and go for it!
That thing which is of the uttermost importance
will be the thing for which you ought to strive.
What drives you? What brings you the most joy?
Once you’ve answered those few questions,
take stock of your own life.
Are you doing all you can, despite even facing 
possible hardships in your current situation?

Don’t sit back and daydream.
Force a smile if you have to.
Be happy for life’s winners.
Envision a dream that is attainable for you;
work for it, being grateful all the while
for the talents you already have.

Those with low esteem or prone to idleness and greed
will not want to do the needful things.
They will feel the tinge of jealousy; then let it fester.
Growing and growing, it will manifest itself
in acts of hideous deceit, or worse,
jealousy can lead to murder and revenge.
It happens all the time, 
for it’s the root of nearly every crime!

Breathe. . . and let out jealousy.
Feeling jealous means that you are human,
 but never go beyond the tinge of it!

On Fertile Ground

Once I found my ground
I felt rivers coming down
warmth in my cheeks
mourning the old soiled soil
that ceased to exist

I let life drop violently on my tendency to coil
Unaware that the opposite motion
Would stretch my arms
Legs
Torso
Dreams

--

I breath elegantly now
Motion controls
What comes in
What I want to show
Feeling my internal lung walls
Solid and moist
Watching my external ethereal walls
Dissipate 

Evaporating the snow

Holograms of potential results
Of what I could not see
Of what I could not control
Gone to make room for facts
Of what truly pertains to the threads of my soul

Eyes start to see
Growth
Finally sustained
Finally with self-love

One step and the flowers spark
Two steps and the bees arrive
Three steps
Fertility pumps its life
And I see more

Less shy
I dream alive
Seeing so much 
With 360 eyes
My hands
They glow

--

Life of my soil
Is finally getting its start
Not belonging no more
Where thoughts 
were from reality
too far
they married
one is the script
the other is the show
and each second
they want more

I feel my skin pumping life 
in all directions
its like breathing through every pore 
no more holding

on

tears come rolling free
for laugh, emotion, idiosyncrasies
pain, devotion

I am what I can be

I finally sweet up my bitter taste with fruits
Nectar of never subduing to fear
Seeds come blessed by the life that unites with others
Never alone
Never forgotten

Hands appear

And different dreams walk near
Meshing my colorful garden of life
Growing in extreme fertility
Finally breathing
Finally coming to sight
My eyes burn in emotion
For all the moments hands wanted to go
Rest
But heart made them stir up
South, north, east and west
to where I succeed
Peace dancing with infinity

Sincere flaws
Rooting the successes of resilient souls
Resistance to fear
magical self-control

Now so much air runs in my scalp,
Navigating in random patterns
Drawing any possibility
On top of my dreams

I am on fertile ground
A fertile ground is me
And I can grow anything
All I need to do is to close my eyes
And believe

when here
life and dream
are a unity
Form: Rhyme

Find Me

If you should ever find yourself lost in this life,
and are unsure of where it was you may have strayed from your path.
Retrace your steps, and catch your breath,
count the many ways that you are blessed.

It may not seem like you have it all figured out,
but it’s a start; there is no need to feel alarmed
Just like some flowers take longer to bloom,
I promise one day you will also discover the beauty of you.

Maybe even in the darker moments,
when you feared nothing would change,
perhaps in the smiling faces of your loved ones,
or in the mentors that have guided you along the way. 

Search through the corridors of your old stomping grounds,
read through old diaries, or learn a new skill at the library.
Some may find it in churches, and others in nightclubs;
there is no right place to go when you are lost, wanting to be found.

Recount the lessons that you have learned,
that helped shape the individual you are today.
Reflect on the bridges you may have burned,
that changed the geography of your landscape.

Accepting that you may be lost is the hardest part,
nobody likes to admit when they are wrong;
asking for help is just as difficult,
for it is seen as weakness when you are actually quite strong.

Do not compare your scars or trophies with anyone.
Focus on the progress you have made,
your successes, and your failures, too,
as they will help you stay motivated and on track.
 
No two paths are the same—each journey is unique;
there is no need to fret or worry even if you find yourself at a dead-end on a one-way street.
Every obstacle comes equipped with opportunities for you to grow,
just be patient, and listen closely to what your heart wants you to know.

Even in the times you felt the most alone,
the voice, the soul within you, never left your side.
Despite not knowing which way to go,
your spirit always helped you find your way back home.

So, the next time you look around again and do not recognize a thing,
or begin to feel anxious because you are unsure of how to proceed,
remember to open your eyes wide, and retrace your steps.
Catch your breath until you make peace with not always knowing what comes next.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Chase of the Champion -

I am a champion,
the thought and feel of it is real,the fact being indisputable and the reality pure,
with others,and in singular isolation victory over the misery of disrections is now,and future,
I am a champion because I have led myself and others to victories,
victories over the malvolent and lurid labors,
living,toiling,dreaming,and breathing within the parameters of a system foriegn
to my instincts, alien to this suture,

I am a champion along with others because I weep incredulity 
at the untaught magnitude of a work ethic producing abject glories,
brought to my knees,my heart beats rife with pain,fear, & the mud of doubt,
brought to lunacy by the dispassion that consequence savors,
rising, and rising as emotions explode at the chance and moment for domination,
justification, to obliterate the obstacles,making room for stories,
awaking with dry pain in the eyes,nausea,dizziness,despair,
seeking simple reasons for motivation to go forth,
wishing quixotically for more sleep,

finishing the day feeling dumb,dull and brazen like a fenced horse 
hungry for edification,rectification,seeing the great steppe with a risk too deep,
going on week after week with new sprains & strains on mind body & spirit,
always some mistake, cuts, bruises, burns & hyperextensions,
compulsively micromanaging,hyperanalysing, a manic finisher,
nothing will dissuade me from the thankless pursuits of daily perfections,
the anatagonists,the ones who sneer & discourage casually at the noble attempts
of the able champions trying to maximize efficiency,to excel,win,

raising that standard which the mediocre claim can't be improved,
I and others jeapordize our health,safety,sanity so to accomplish the impossible,
I receive no grand trophies,new contracts or publicity,
nobody takes my picture or delivers a prize,
there are no special tokens or passwords on the table,
we strive ferociously for the sake of victory,for the knowledge of limits,
this way setting greater goals & tests,
being testaments for others who climb,
do I want acclaim from Deity for my successes,distinction for my sacrafices, no,
I work hard for me and others to be sublime -

J.A.B.
Form: Epic

Your Old Parents

Think of the hands that lovingly fed you,
Think of the hands that lovingly held you,
Think of the hands that held yours and taught you to write,
Think of the hands that held yours and taught you to walk upright.

Think of the hands that hugged you till you slept,
Think of the hands that hugged you when you wept,
Think of the hands that carefully cooked for you,
Think of the hands that did everything for you.

Think of the mouth that taught you to speak,
Think of the mouth that told you never be weak.
Think of the mouth that taught you many things,
Always there to correct wrong things.

Think of those loving eyes,
Wanting you to touch the skies.
Think of those tears,
Glistening after every successes and failures.

Remember when you were sick, how they cared for you,
Remember when you're sad, how they listened and counselled you,
Remember how many sleepless nights they spent on you,
Remember everything they did for you.

Every act was thoughtfully, carefully done,
So that your problems were reduced to none!
Remember that heart full of love and concern,
For your well being they were stern.

Remember those accusations, fights and shouts,
Remember those I will not talk to you bouts.
Remember how you were reprimanded,
Remember how you were always candid.

Just remember how they taught you self help,
But whenever needed there was help.
All was done with love and smile,
So that you would always smile.

Now they are old,
It needn't be told.
You should do,
What did it for you!

Hold their hands as a walk,
Listen patiently while they talk.
Give them the same love care and attention,
So that they can live without tension.

Tell them they are not useless here,
Tell them you still need their guidence here,
Tell them how much you love them here,
It is their house, they are its seer!

You owe your health wealth and success to them,
You owe your goodness and values to them,
Whatever you are is because of them,
You should dedicate your life to them.

Behave the way they did with you,
It is because of them, you are you!

Date: 7/30/2020

HM in Brian Strand contest
Form: Rhyme

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