Long Take place Poems

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


Layers of the Onion

Meaning, ever bending, never ending-ly open to changing it's mind and opinions,
by moving around words and pulling and pushing in different directions,
until everything changes, rearranges pages in history
just for the mystery to begin again
with new songs, new players and these layers and layers
of summits and new beginnings. 
Of openings back to where we came in.
New meanings are foaming and forming 
within the fatted belly of doing and screwing until done.
Come watch a new one get sprung.
A new shape to take place of the old, behold
and believe in your prayers.
They keep coming these layers and layers 
and faces of women and men.
Turn around just to begin again.
© Even Flow  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member While Asleep

The death came

You were asleep

An offer you made

You couldn't resist


He asked you plainly

At point-blank

Your soul to carry

To oblivion's bank


Where Angels wait

With outstretched wings

Your soul to embrace

As heaven sings


Then with them to fly

To the place of bliss

Where the Lord awaits

To give you a kiss


You gladly accepted

Your body to leave

And soar to the heavens

Where souls don't grieve!*





© Demetrios Trifiatis
      27 January 2017


* This little poem is a tribute to a good friend of mine, a pure soul, 
 that passed away yesterday while asleep. In a few hours, the burial
will take place.  There are a lot of things to be done till then and I have
to do them!



Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android
Form: Quatrain

Face Time

Henry’s gotten old enough
For phone calls to take place
And now, with new technology,
We get to see his face.

But also he sees ours, as well
As where we do reside.
He doesn’t get here often, so
A tour we did provide.

“There’s Grandpa in the kitchen
Cooking pasta in the pot
And chopping mozzarella cheese,
Which Henry likes a lot!

Look outside – there goes a taxi
And some buildings, big and tall.
In the living room are pictures – 
Yes, of you! up on the wall.”

What a wonderful connection!
Though we’re kept apart by miles,
Thanks to mobile phones and WiFi,
We can see each other’s smiles.

Grandpa even gave a tickle
And a high-five at the end.
Though we couldn’t really touch him,
It was better than pretend.
Form: Rhyme

Soar my sisters soar

I never prayed for patience 
It was not my forte 
as I'm one who wants things 
to always move right away
but I've learned that life 
is like planting a seed. 
It will grow in its own time 
and we can't really intercede
 
now imbibition comes first 
that's when the water enters in 
it activates the seed's enzymes 
so growth can now begin 
the seed then develops a root
it commences to sprout and shoot
and the process of photomorphogenesis begins to take place
when the light comes in 
and determines that seed's growth rate 

and like the seed of God
His anointed word 
it grows inside of us
usually unobserved 
it moves at its own pace
it renews us from inside
it moves with a mighty strength 
that never ever subsides

so wait on the Lord
let God take you to germination 
wait on the Lord
with patience and a godly determination
and know that God has already cleared 
the runways in your life
you're now ready for takeoff 
so just enjoy the flight
soar my sisters soar 
like eagles flying high
soar my sisters soar 
it's time to take the skies 

so take the time and recognize the shift 
when God moves about 
realize and summarize that
the process is tantamount 
soar my sisters soar
it's time to run and not grow weary 
soar my sisters soar 
walk and never be faint nor dreary

let God pour into you 
so that you may sprout and grow shoot
let God imbibiate you 
so you may get those spiritual roots
soar my sisters soar 
take flight like an eagle
soar my sisters soar
rise above all of life upheavals 

your destined for greatness
for you have been ordained 
soar my sister soar
now go fly high in Jesus's name

Growing

What kills
Are the thrills seem to have gone 
Like my ever decreasing youth
I failed to use 
The gift I abused
Thinking I was my God
I was entitled 
My very own referee 
Bingo Caller inches taller
Over all and sundry 
But retracing my track's 
My receipt's don't cover my taxes 
Refunding pearl's in plundered shell's 
Warranties have expired 
Upon an ocean floor beside bald tyres 
And discarded plastic bag's 
On fish to snag
For 1 final thrill
Like growing up
I would kill
Glancing beyond a windowsill 
Where The rain still dances upon the fresh cut grass
I can no longer smell or even tell cares
For the fresh air or sun
Bored as I of perpetual cutting and growing 
Never knowing if anything else will ever take place
Or replace the 1st time feeling
Alive 
Feeling 
Anything but Hollow


Sept 11 and Heaven

as we commemorate the 10th anniversary of a  day we'll always remember
over three thousand lives taken on the eleventh day of September
but for the grace of God it might have been me 
to have been one of those lives taken away in the midst of that tragedy

life is a series of sequences and events that take place
and I know that as a child of Christ I'm living under His grace
at the time I had a job that was located in tower seven
but on that day I was in Brooklyn or I might have died and gone to heaven
safe in the borough of Kings working at the primary election polls
far away from the events that on New York took such a toll
the nation and the world were shook to their foundations
that anyone would dare to strike at the very heart of our nation
two airliners purposely driven into the World Trade Center Twin Towers
an attack on American soil in the early morning hours

and as I sit in church today on our annual Homecoming day
I reflect on the fact that many will never come home again
mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, co-workers, family and friends
and while I sit in this anointed pew
the awesomeness of the glory of God in me has been renewed
a day to remember as we share the communion of our Lord Christ
a day to also remember a day that forever changed our lives
Form: Ode

I Wonder Not

Sometimes I learnt, mmhh……… actually, 
Most of the times that…………
Words are lesser than actions
And actions don’t depict intentions
Half this life one spends wondering literally in the mind.
I on the other end, 
Have a rendezvous with sleep.
Wonder I left to the well built intellectually,
Like Okumu!
I want to visit Jamaica while not high!
My wedding will take place in Venice,
The city of masqueraders in the name of aristocrats!
Of merchants and shylocks!
Clearly I don’t wonder!
I am ten feet deeper than the corpse
Somehow on my way down there,
I heard them whisper from afar 
And now I am about to reach the earth’s core………..
I heard magma burn with fiery down there!
Could it be the same hell the vicar preached?
Truly I wonder not!
All the same, I happened!
I am the rule of the thumb-
If it wasn’t written, it didn’t happen.
Where you ask?
Right in the pupil of your eye
As you stare into my lips, reciting this piece to you
And to think I don’t wonder!
Form:

Premium Member Waiting For the Change

We’ve come North Carolina in October…to visit the Blue Ridge Mountain Range…
to experience the coolness of the season and watch the leaves of Autumn change.

We’ve come in early October because we are of the belief
the colors this year will be beautiful…and we don’t want to miss a leaf.

The blending of one season to the next…is one of the marvels of time and space….
and we want to be in at the beginning…to watch this change take place.

We’ve chosen our cabin in the mountains…where the view always enthralls…
to watch this particular miracle of nature: the merging of Summer into Fall.

To stand in the midst of the forest…to admire the trees before they shed….
to see and feel the colors change…from green….to orange and yellow and red.

Since we arrived at the end of summer…we find ourselves in-between…
Fall is just around the corner and the leaves are still tinted in various shades of green.

Knowing what is coming…knowing it’s but a few sunrises away
we’re filled with the same anticipation we feel 
before opening presents on Christmas Day.

We know once the presents are unwrapped…
we’re in for a wonderful surprise…
Only this time the presents will unwrap themselves…
right before our eyes.

As I say the green leaves have not changed color yet…
Summer’s control is still a little stronger…
which is fine with us because we get to enjoy this wonderful feeling of anticipation… 
for a little while longer.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Ding Dong

There was a small town Nowhere.
It was in a state Somewhere.
In this town lived a family, 
Ding, dong a bell strikes hourly.
A rich family named AtAll.
Ding, dong the bell tower stands tall.

Also in the state Somewhere,
There was a smaller town 
Everywhere.
In this town lived a family, 
Ding, Dong a bell strikes hourly.
The family Else, who with AtAll get 
along.
In the tower the bell goes ding, dong.

These families fought for a long time
And accomplished as much as a 
talking mime.
The family Else never went Nowhere.
Ding, dong this sound from the bell 
did blare.
And the family AtAll mever goes 
Somewhere.
Ding,  dong a sound that you know 
from where.

Noone AtAll loved Nobody Else, 
But Noone's dad hated Everyone 
Else;
And Everyone was Nobody's father.
Ding, dong the bell gets louder.
Nevertheless Nobody proposed to 
Noone.
Ding, dong the bell strikes its familiar 
tone.

Noone accepted Nobody's proposal; 
They set the wedding for April
And take place Nowhere.
Ding, dong this song fills the air.
It's the wedding day and the AtAlls 
know about it
Ding, dong continues the bell with its 
habit.

All the people are at the church in 
the middle of Nowhere, 
Then the AtAlls started appearing 
from Everywhere.
The wedding was cut short that day; 
Bang, boom, blast battle broke way.
Nobody alone remains when the 
battlw nears its end.
Bang,  boom, blast the final shot left 
none to stand.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Gothic Nights

Broken hearted, alone and forsaken
A promenade in the misty twilight
Under bridges of Paris nights
I walk the years of time

The pain makes me feel real
I know I am alive
Loneliness lingers on
All I dreamed, has all but gone

Cut my heart and make me bleed
Fallen angels from the sky
Can not save my drowning soul
Gothic angels dress my earthly wounds

Crimson fires burn within
Killing the demons, and all my sin
The mist or morning, brings new hopes
Magicians and swords, keep dragons at bay

The final battle for this heartless soul
Will take place along a bridge called desire
I peer into zombie eyes
They are calling for me

Underneath is where I belong
Or so they say
Under bridges of the seine
Where broken hearts live
To die

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