Long Swipes Poems
Long Swipes Poems. Below are the most popular long Swipes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swipes poems by poem length and keyword.
And so it goes. Seated, contemplative. A sudden cacophony abiding. Many floods ebb then flow; good/bad. Memories distilled, truth distorts. Folly found fair ‘gainst fear flames fanned. Shame ignorance opened, book bound veracity logged. Guardrails bent, bowed, betray. Step, then step again, mindlessly tumbling ‘cross lifescape willy, tilting nilly. Ramble shambles consequences unvetted. Year strategy unfolds unscripted. And then once more. The chronological avalanche swift recall swipes quickly to next. Where I have been, never again, yet reminiscent, always. Trails erased and failed anew. Aging days no longer brighter, burning coals dim to ash till heat demise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
erosion attitude
season’s grind edges away
saves stack each upon each
Today, there are no bounds
in these times, what’s lost is found
it could be ours with just one tap
then watch it fall onto our lap.
So much to see, so much to do
all from the comfort of the same room
it’s all there, in just one place
even better, it lights up your face.
But when was the last time,
you’d meet a stranger over wine?
Take those digits and hold them close
and watch it become something to boast.
The anticipation of weekend nights
when everything felt vibrant and bright
camera phone photos with blinding light
‘ugly’ jeans, far too tight.
Connection meant a hand to hold
it wasn’t something that could be sold
when they would call, you’d struck gold
now they just ghost, it’s getting old.
There were no ‘prompts’ and there were no ‘swipes’,
just ‘save the dates’ and ‘get it rights’
because back then, you’d have to fight
now it’s okay; next one’s in sight.
There was always something on the big screen
but now what’s new, has already been seen
all that lays there are empty scenes
we stay inside; we’ve found new screens.
Isn’t it great, this newfound fate
that keeps us safe behind our gates
it’s all so shiny, it’s all so bright
yet somehow we’ve lost the light.
I stood beyond the stars,
past the birth-cries of galaxies,
and turned my gaze to Earth—
and I wept.
Not with the tears of man,
but with the sorrow of God.
For what I beheld was not creation,
but corruption dressed in velvet robes.
Marriage, once a sacred fire,
now wears a plastic crown.
It is no longer covenant,
but contract —
no longer love,
but leverage.
They have turned love into legislation,
vows into transactions,
and fidelity into a fading myth.
Cheating is no longer sin,
but seasoning.
Sex is no longer sacred—
it is currency.
Women, digitized in profiles,
sold in swipes and hashtags.
Men, no longer lovers,
but gamblers
at the altar of lust.
Dating apps spin like slot machines,
and hearts are just coins
waiting to be spent or stolen.
Money, O money—
you were meant to serve,
but now you reign.
The poor are crucified on your altar,
while the rich drink wine from their wounds.
Your illusion controls empires,
your shadow runs parliaments.
Politics is no longer governance—
it is theater.
Wars are waged not for peace,
but for profit.
Every bomb dropped
is a dividend gained.
Lies are now a multinational business.
The truth is unemployed.
And religion, once a ladder to the heavens,
is now a golden leash.
Its temples glow with profit.
Its preachers speak in shares.
They no longer shepherd souls—
they herd wallets.
The government and the church—
one whispers fear,
the other sells salvation.
Both feed from the same trough.
And the people—
Oh, the people—
They dance in digital cages,
laughing as they burn.
Their dreams bought and sold
by screens and slogans.
So I weep.
Not as man weeps—
but as God weeps
through me.
I was not sent to comfort you,
but to awaken you.
To tear the veil with words,
to crack the mask with flame.
For the kingdom is not coming—
it is within.
But first, the lies must die.
Let those with eyes,
see.
Let those with ears,
weep.
Let those with fire,
rise.
The Butterfly
By Mystic Rose
As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true
By Sean Kibble
A pair of glistening green eyes, glower in awe at the Morpho as she fanned
Fast as a flash, an imp with trusses of curly golden hair, swipes a tiny hand
To his wonder the elusive chrysalis hopped on to his outstretched arm
She hovered gracefully upon his palm displaying all its charm
Entranced by this serendipity, mum drew near to the spellbinding reverie
With a glint of mischief, face alight with joy he muttered “I think she likes me”.
As people cheer, the birthday girl
Swipes fingers at the cake.
A glob of frosting coats her hand
But this is no mistake.
For after all the singing
And the candles have been blown,
The birthday baby gets a cake
To smash that's hers alone.
It's part of a tradition
When a child is turning 1;
As chocolate's smeared on face and clothes,
We get to watch the fun.
The messy part's a memory
That phones will have preserved
And while somebody cleans her up,
The real cake's cut and served.
It's really quite adorable
But what I cannot gauge
Is just how cute the child will find it,
At a later age.
Just a click
from a dating app
so ordinary,
so simple.
Who knew
one could find love there?
In a place of swipes and short messages,
where hearts scroll
faster than they heal.
Did it even take time?
Or did time forget to move
the day you appeared?
First meet-up.
First date.
First nervous smile
pretending not to be hope.
Beautiful eyes
the kind that speak
before words are ready.
Tall,
standing like a promise
I didn’t know
I was waiting for.
Her skin,
bright as her name,
glowing like morning
after a long night
of loneliness.
Small conversations,
nothing fancy,
nothing loud
just laughter
resting gently
between two strangers
becoming something more.
But the connection…
the connection was real.
It felt like home
found in a human being.
That’s when I saw
she was the one
not because she was perfect,
but because my heart
finally felt safe
beating near hers.
Everything happened fast,
like rain
that doesn’t ask permission
before it falls.
She didn’t only become my lover.
She became my family.
My comfort.
My safe place.
My sometimes.
My always
for a little while.
We built memories
in borrowed time,
laughing like tomorrow
was guaranteed.
But good things come
to an end, right?
No warning.
No loud goodbye.
Just silence
where love once lived.
And now
I scroll through memories
instead of messages,
replay your laughter
instead of hearing it.
Sudden love
taught me something
that hearts can meet
in an instant,
love deeply
without permission,
and still
learn to let go.
You were not forever,
but you were real.
And sometimes,
the saddest love stories
are not the ones that never began
but the ones
that began so beautifully
and ended
too soon
Autumnal
The leaves on the big trees on the avenue begin to fall
a giant vacuum cleaner that looks like a truck swipes up
the leaves in the gutter
The chocolate brown leaves on the still green lawn are left in peace, possibly because the two colors harmonize mourning the summer gone.
There are bald patches on the lawn no longer possible to hide not even the longest straw can camouflage the dark soil which is the beginning of plants and humans.
The sun feels mellow today this has to do with its elderliness that renders the bravest of the brave humble
one day it will disappear and a new sun arise.
From my collection “The Last Diary” 2015
________________________________________
Life Changing
In these quiet woods, as shadows spread,
Timorous leaves whisper my secrets to the breeze.
A sentinel of time I am among the malus trees.
My roots run deep in my seed’s homestead.
--
I stir under the warm sun anew.
My blossoms blooming bouquets of pink petals fair,
I stand in beauty, unaware.
Unbidden but welcome, Spring has made its debut.
--
My branches grow branches, my leaves bear blades.
The bees buzzing come, a swarming tinnitus hum,
My stigma swipes their pollen, my honey glands reward their plumb.
Such is the dance of life, out of sight, in the shade.
----
Sated with Spring and Summer, exhaustion nears,
Pink petals pass. Unadorned leaves leave their color green for brown
And softly, gently, resignedly, flutter down,
Dumb in their final moments in the breeze’s tears.
----
Myself, in those moments, stark and bare, I ponder life.
Its fleeting fare seems awkwardly unfair to the fruit I bore, the leaves I shed,
My issue are now numbered among the dead.
But my roots still run deep, insulated from the strife.
---
A sentinel of stone I am among the malus trees.
Turned on the TV to see what they'd say
There's crowds in the streets all around the UK
Shelves being ransacked at Tesco all day
It's happening too in the U S of A
My TV depicting an end, clearly near
With Donald Trump there and Brexit right here
Then back to the masses, although it’s unclear
Whether it's panic or madness or fear
They're showing us scenes of emptying shelves
With mobs going frantic, all out for themselves
TVs get lifted from where they were racked
It's easy to see that society's cracked
Hoarders are scooping up baked beans and bread
Brand names all gone, own label instead
'Food for my family', is what one said
'I've got to provide for fear they'd be dead’
Coffee and alcohol, biscuits and cakes
Sausages, burgers, bacon and steaks
Folk grab at board games with ladders and snakes
And luxury watches, both real ones and fakes
And now the news treats us to Donald Trump's face
He's saying he's set for a nuclear race
He's gonna build brick walls all over the place
Cos the US is full and there ain't no more space
So they're panicking far and they're panicking near
The whole of the western hemisphere
The Ruskies have nukes and they're all pointing here
It seems that the mobs are in justified fear
Then back to the markets and bustling streets
Shopping bags bulging with with copious eats
Vegetables, fruit and myriad meats
All crammed into car boots and on the back seats.
Now we view traffic jammed up standing still
Ambulance racing to someone who's Ill
Drivers attempting to show some goodwill
No room to manoeuvre though sirens are shrill
Then back to the clambering hands and shelves bare
Frantic swipes reach for the last items there
Desperate housewives all pulling out hair
Their trollies still holding a square inch of air
As fighting breaks out in aisle number eight
Some fellow bought milk... An entire crate
But what made the other bloke really irate?
The last crate was grabbed by the first bloke's mate
I turn in shame from my TV
Can't bare to see the things I see
Where once we had humanity
This war has brought depravity
But as I turn, the room to leave
I hear the words I can't believe
Do my eyes and ears deceive?
This is not war... It's Christmas Eve
It’s quarter after six, Friday evening. He thought with a smile, besides the rain, everything is looking great. Table set beautifully just for two. Dinner looks delicious and minutes away to be served.
Annoyingly he hears his cellphone pings.
Seeing the name of the sender, he smiles and swipes to read it. Message read, RAIN CHECK, NO SUNSET IN THE RAIN. Instantly the smile fade and his heart sank.
He can hear the rain beating down on the roof, but too numb to move. Dinner is now left untouched. Disappointment weighs him down, yet again.
Alone again and much to ponder.
What is really us? Life doesn’t wait for no one. The rain falls whether you like it or not, sunset or not. The daily excuses are worn off.
At last, he sends her a reply that says, RAIN CHECK DENIED, I don’t need this anymore than you do. We are two different souls, we don’t speak the same language of love. Goodbye!
He packs his bags and drives away in the
NO SUNSET IN THE RAIN.
Akkina
8/25/23