Long Suppose Poems

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


Dedicated To Doctors Who Are Fighting Corona

Inspiration : Our eminent poet,  Krish Radhakrishnan who is also a doctor handling corona patients. Once he commented that I feel guilty when they give me leave. Another time he commented that some days we are so exhausted that we have no heart to do anything. If everyone followed rules corona cannot spread. This would give health workers much needed respite.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you go out without worry
Without precaution, not wearing a mask...
think of the doctors out there 
working hard and day and night 
trying to save every life
It is not easy for them!

Frightened faces all around 
so many deaths in front of them 
just think of their state of mind

Covered by PPE, sweating inside 
mask on face, not easy to breathe
full day handling patients with patience 
life is most tough for them

Still they are doing it for us!
we are duty bound to take precautions
Please think about them before you go out 
Or do any social function

Just because they are good we should not take advantage
suppose they become irresponsible 
say we are tired we are going on leave
Just imagine your plight

A big salute to their sincerity and dedication
working under extreme conditions still they smile to their patients
talk with hope and faith 
this has been going on for months
still they continue to serve 

Being a doctor is not easy
Wear PPE for 1 hour and see
Wear mask at home for 1 hour and see 
Serve a corona patient without thinking of self and family

They are doing so much 
how are we ever going to repay them?
By doing our best to avoid getting corona we can help big way
If all take care, how will corona spread?

Doctors are God to me
Being a doctor is not easy


Premium Member Gin And Tears

And as I reach my end of years
       I’ve come to know my gin and tears
A pleasant cocktail, I suppose
             As time, that mighty river flows 

Yet, not for sadness in my cup
                  This combination sums it up
But rather sweet and salty times
  That brought me all the best of rhymes

Reflections with an added twist
                         A tonic of a potent mist
For life’s true reverie is clear
           In all I’ve lived and loved so dear

So gin and tears I recommend  
              When all alone or with a friend
A nice, tall glass will do me fine
          I love the life that has been mine  

I hope again in ten years’ days
           As flowers grow and music plays
I’ll sip away, no matter where
           With gratitude and love to spare
Form: Couplet

His Right Leg

A ticket pinned to the thigh reserves it,
the whole cadaver is parceled off - of course.
Legs are a late harvest, these often-indigent parts
carry a visual poverty long after the body is plucked.

Under watchful eyes the young medics
separate muscle groups, filter large blood vessels
from fibrous runnels, hesitant scalpels
seek out fascial planes.

The leg is devolving to scraps,
yet, ingrained in the tissue
I sense residual shades of a former life,
seaside postcards, old photographs,
perhaps campaign ribbons, odd tokens
amongst yellowed newspaper clippings,
all briefly surface as conjectured images
beneath a probing knife.

The gray flesh retains its personal history,
I imagine that behind the knee
there is a wife, children, and a separation
all spectrally etched between femur and tibia.
Much of the ensuing bone-whittling years
are demonstratively scored
across a formaldehyde and jelled narration.

The students suppose they dissect a limb,
while I notion that I turn over bloodless pages,
of an unwritten story,
and now the last few attached ligaments
remain as threads that speak at last
of a long journey’s end.

Premium Member Life and stabilitys '

Did you start with jolt.' Or a smooth arrival?
Was light your attraction.? Or darrkness as a trial? Was there order.? Was there teaching in play.? Or was there division? What befell.? Night after day.. I note some survivours of ' the child abuse crowd' had to split their awarness..Place a space somehow..Between acts of horror, and shows from hell.' How have they endured..
Now they must show and tell... Which is again horror.' We would rather this not be.'
Any compassionate person..Like who.? I
Suppose you or me.? Also thete are many
Out there who have had ( indifferent attacks'  ) a perpetrator moves on..Some
Space allowed to re-tack.? To a course of
Life that 'is productive and more whole'some to contact with others.' Who
Never even glimpsed of such gaols..Worst
Ones the mind fights.? Yet look its rather flat beer.' Compared to the people now standing.' Despite syndicates that lash out
In primal fear..For they like 'the polo, the ski-ing' oscar nights..And rather much.' The
Crowds adulstion it gives them a buzz.' Not
Quite like the rush..Of adren-a-chrome draughts.' Yet a type of counterbalace.? A
Slice of lemon in the glass, like salt to tequila..And then theres (the charitable gifts) a few million to posterity..' balances
Out the grift..Yet today they ' fly in terror' of what to many is still unknown..That there is deathwatch beatle in the skirting boards
And woodworm through their thrones.'

Me And The Me

Each day I run, each day I hide
from the me I’ve locked inside.
The me I made in younger years.
The me reflected in my tears.

The me my mother warned me of,
“Do what is right or you’ll become.”
The me that doesn’t care at all.
The me that plans for me to fall.

The me that seeks destruction of,
me and everyone I love.
The me that left me wanting death.
The me that left me wanting breath.

And in that moment I did see -
just how dark the me can be.
But little did the me have planned
that by my side the Lord did stand.

Then from that depth of prison walls
I rose up fighting, standing tall.
But I have learned to my regret,
the me is ever lurking yet.

For every time I want to rest
the me seems to be at his best.
And thus, I struggle every day
to try and keep the me away.

But I suppose that is my test…
to fight until my final rest.
Form: Rhyme


Us

I want to love  you 
I want you to love me 
I want us to love one another 
Always have each other back 
Your best interest at heart 
Boy thats a fact
I want to show you things 
You've never seen 
I want to see what we can bring 
With both of us together is that enough 
Lets see , about us

Us 
Thats you and me 
Is this what its  suppose to be 
Us lets try 
You and I

My friend 
My rollie 
My buddy 
My homie 
The guy who makes me complete 
Never feel lonely 
My comedian 
My laughter (thats what I need)
My guidance 
My counselor 
Friends first 
Thats a plus 
You are more than enough 
You My calm when it gets rough 
You have helped me with alot of stuff 
I need a real one 
Thats true 
Boy I need you 

Us 
Thats you and me 
Is this what its  suppose to be 
Us lets try 
You and I

Us 
Yes 
That sounds great 
Clap your hands if you can relate 
(Repeat 1x)
Us 
Thats you and me 
Is this what its  suppose to be 
Us lets try 
You and I
Repeat until chorus fades 
Written by Concetta Hardnett 
06/07/2026

Growing Old

It feels like I’ve been around too long.
Every tune has become the same old song.
Every plight’s just a fight to no end
cuz there’s no way to win.

And I can’t help but notice as I’m growing old -
I believe less and less of what I’m told.
Cuz the world’s nothing more than
an endless round of spin.

Every voyage I take that’s pushed by sails
is another lap around to no avail.
Cuz I keep on ending up in the place
where I began.

And everything I once thought was marvelous
anymore, well I’m just not so damned impressed.
Cuz where I used to wonder now sadly, I understand.

But I guess it all comes with the territory,
as does the feeling - don’t bother me.
Cuz I’m fine spending time on my own
through the years of gold.

I’ll just let the world go its merry way.
I’m at peace inside at the end of the day.
Cuz that’s just how it is, I suppose…
when you get old.
Form: Rhyme

Down To Bethlehem

It ain’t very often – even if you’re very wise 
That you see a cosmic signpost lighting up the skies. 
So I grabs me two mates, Belteshaz and Shem 
Saddled up the camels and went down to Bethlehem. 

The signpost that I saw was really rather posh 
And Belteshaz, the wisest mate let out a feeble, “Gosh, 
I wonder who had that put there 
It must have cost a bob or two?” 
And someone said, “It is amazin’ the fings wot God can do!” 

It weren’t no ordinary star – its light was far too bright 
I’ad to grab me shades you see, to see its ‘eavenly light. 
All of us, excited, got up there and then 
To saddle up the camels and go down to Bethlehem. 

The message of the star was very plain to see 
‘specially if you’re wise enough, like Belteshaz and me. 
And as you can imagine we were causing quite a stir 
As we set off on our camels 
Taking Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh! 

The message said a king’s been born – Him wot we’e been waitin’ for. 
The Son of God’s been born on Earth – ain’t never ‘appened ‘ere before. 
So ‘urry up you three wise men 
Saddle up the camels and get down to Bethlehem. 

We went first to the palace to see the kingly boy 
But the king – a guy called Herod – didn’t seem so full of joy 
When we told him why we’d come 
‘E seemed a bit surprised when we asked to see his son. 

You’d ‘ave thought, I suppose, if the Son of God was going to live on Earth 
He’d ‘ave the sense to pick a palace as the setting of His birth. 
But when we found the birthplace God picked out for His Son 
We ‘ad to hold our noses cos it stank of cattle dung. 

The boy grew up, the story’s told, and never wore a crown, 
Unless you count a crown of thorns to match his purple gown. 
They ‘ad ‘im executed and laughing watched Him die, 
“E’s gone” they shrieked in ruthless mirth, “to meet ‘is daddy in the sky”. 

Of course it came as some surprise 
Three days later He was seen... alive 
But we didn’t know about that when 
We saddled up the camels and went down to Bethlehem
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Hidden Anguish

Written: January 21, 2024
                    ____________________________________

Its lack of meaning is puzzling
The smile on my face
The pure one is evanescent
I ditched you in afar space
Nobody cares of my anguish
Or even witness my tears
They presume I'm laughing
Yet I regret not having you here
Nobody grasps how inure it is
They believe me to be fearless
I'm told it won't harm me
Yet, I suppose this is witless.

Vivid feelings for you turn idle
They believe I was set free
Still, it's as if chains bind me
I am tangled in the mystery
Nobody feels I need you badly
They expect I can handle it alone
But they don't grasp I'm bawling
In a state of utter lassitude
Today, I lost something dear
I lost something unreal
The core of my soul has left lately
My loss has devastated me
My beliefs have vanished
Once I felt adducible, I lost
I lost my core convictions
In sadness, I cry—why me?
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member What If

What if,
my sister Suzanne had not died on that snowy winter day
it was so pretty with the snow falling down and the icicles on trees
I stood holding my mother's hand waiting for Suzanne
we saw her slip on the ice-  we saw the big truck coming
and then mother was screaming and screaming
I will never forget that scream, I still hear it in my dreams
what if Suzanne had not died that day . . .

What if,
my baby boy had lived to see the azure sky and not died
I would have loved him so much and watched him grow up strong
let him make his mistakes but been there to kiss the hurts
watched him grow and become a wonderful young man
but I suppose God had a plan for him and for me
I often go to the place where we buried our little boy
no amount of years can take away the pain . . .

What if,
my husband had not crashed his car into a snowy ravine
he was driving too fast but that was his thing and made me angry
it was a snow storm and again snow was falling so pretty
the road was icy and then he was gone from my life
I dream of him always- his handsome face is smiling at me
we had a love that even death cannot break- it is forever
until we meet again my love . . . 

What if,
grandma was not gone, I can still hear her saying-  write it
write what's in your heart and thus a poet was born
and father, oh how I miss him- he taught me about life
about protecting nature and the animals within our world
and mother, oh mother, she was my rock and my anchor
the most important person in my life, I could tell her everything
and now I float and drift like a cloud in the sky . . .

                                 What if grandpa was still here
                                                                    What if . . . 


_____________________________
October 11, 2018


Poetry/Free Verse/What If
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1070-633-01
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the contest, New Free Verse
sponsor, Lu Loo

First Place

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