Long Talking Poems

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


Premium Member Imaginary Chasm

Two hearts estranged, walk pensively
Their hands don’t touch and eyes are glazed
Talking in monosyllables
Mere gestures of noblesse oblige

A common friend creeps upon them
Tip toeing barefoot noiselessly
He holds two feathers in his hands
Impishly tickling each in turn

To cadence of silent rhythm 
His flute plays a quiet love tune
Flood of memories engulf both
Something shifts; hearts begin to sing

Ego thoughts fade into the glade
Boundaries blur, both become one
All that remains are loving hearts
Seeking an endearing embrace

Casper, with nod of approval
Melds with the void, vibrational

19-June-2021

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Sponsor: Charles Messina
Form: Verse


Premium Member It Feels Like a Good Day To Cry

My beloved friend, I miss you...dearly 
These great times we've shared...together 
If you could see me now, you would see my tears...clearly 
You will always be in my heart...forever 

Your friends, our friends, we were all talking about...you 
We were reminscing about some of the great times you've...brought 
How everytime when you were with us, you would turn a gray sky...blue 
And how you spoke of love and kindness, lessons you've...taught 

As I sit and watch you singing ripple, having fun, I...sigh 
Why, I ask myself...over and over a million times...again 
My friend and brother, It feels like a good day to...cry 
Ya know, It helps me to get by, if I cry every now and..then
Form: Verse

Horn Harmony

Written By:  D. Collins 6/14/24


There's nothing better than a trumpet, trombone, and sax.
Screaming out tight tones on full blast.
Synched and tuned to make our hair stand up.
Cracking all glass products around the club.



Then, a sweet-talking flute comes in underneath.
Followed by a little Lee Oscar, the harmonic beast.
Damn!!!  That would sound good.  Music to my ears.
The soul-stirring sound that'll bring a man to tears..........
Form: Couplet

Native Tongue

I speak native tongue
From the lees heart of
The keg and palm tree
In the kukuruku forest
To be suffuse with 
The spirit of Anwu.

Dum dum gbidi gbom
Basks my body in
Drum beats of Egungun
In the black tropical grove.
Talking drum that
Speak words from my mind
With the pulse of Orishe.

I eat only dry meat
That fills the mouth.
Give me oil and salt
To consume my cocoyam,
I shall offer you kolanut
And welcome you 
Within the hut of Ndiichie.

I speak native tongue,
The true voice 
Of nature imitated by 
Amana isôn eyen.
The Tongue of homecoming
And the bond of ancestry!

Protect the Deam

Some people out there
run their mouth without care,
don’t know history,
think this a tragedy.
So good we have it,
but still they talk sh-t,
empty and hollow,
demand others follow.
If life’s not perfect
they think they can reject,
throw out all the good,
and declare that they should;
trying to fill voids
only God could enjoin,
their bitterness grows
until joy they can’t know.

We built the dream,
know what it means,
have to live free,
it’s our damn birthright.
Here hope prevailed,
tyranny failed,
ignore their wails,
join in the good fight.
Done with their squawking,
socialistic talking,
nuts…
They murdered Charlie,
you know they’d do it to
us…

Some people in life
have to reject what’s right,
it highlights inside
what they hope to hide;
cannot self-reflect,
so they have to project,
that’s how they deflect
from a soul that’s been wrecked.
Some people, you see,
elevate jealousy,
think it justifies
tearing down those who try.
It makes their life hell,
can’t keep it to themselves,
try to pull us all down,
that we cannot allow.

We built the dream,
know what it means,
have to live free,
it’s our damn birthright.
Here hope prevailed,
tyranny failed,
ignore their wails,
join in the good fight.
Done with their whining,
bullying through crying
crap…
Cutting on children
nobody can tolerate
that…

We built the dream,
know what it means,
have to live free,
it’s our damn birthright.
Here hope prevailed,
tyranny failed,
ignore their wails,
join in the good fight.
Never say sorry
for building the very
best…
If they could hack it
they wouldn’t settle for
less…
Form: Rhyme


UNchained Mind

Trap my body, can't trap my mind.
Glad you checked on me, but I'm doing just fine.
I pray for my kid and please protect my mom.
Grateful for what I have, don't worry about what I don't.
I know that He will, even when it felt like He wont.
So every night I pray before I hit that bunk.
My celly smoking kay talking about its skunk.
I'm gonna be gone for a little bit, gotta do some time.
Was tryna do right at the same time doing crime.
Will not shed a tear, this is no place for crying.
Said I would change, this time I ain't lying.
God please correct me, I don't want to hurt no more.
I know the life I want, this time I'm sure.

Who,S Been There For Me

Special Forces is where my loyalties lie
And Air Force well it runs in the family
Sitting around a campfire
Passing a bottle of Gentlemans jack around
talking about our grandpa and smiling big
but today i make a circle and stop by the grave yard
i've reached my limit Ive had enough
Hey Sir lets just go and  pick out my grave hello to you 2 Holy Men
this is not the path i chose
excuse me while i take command of the situation
Im sure there are many better trained and capable of keepeing the peace
and keep these hands clean from spilling blood
but speaking the truth he has his heart set on my destruction
Well Sir your more than likely going end up dying trying to kill me
Im speaking Brass wtf am I a helicopter base
And where the hell is those ghost of my past
I tell you they ain't no body bracing them when Im around
beaware danger lurks
he said remember this aint over yet
we'll see wont we and yea if your an oposing force
you wont never see where the blow comes from
 the Lord's got His sword in His hand and he's swinging back
It's Christmas eve today instead of being scared to dye i enjoy myself
but im still pist and im still not backing down
I know there is nothing i can say to change your mind
A Team of Assassians meet A Team 
really we dont think you wanna play those Assassian games
it'd be bashing your ****ing skulls in and feeding you to the coyotes and buzzards
it'd be seeing your protege advancing farther than you
Your what a lion is with no heart
you give us all a bad name and im just a no account
Im a part of nothing I have nothing to do with it
still im forced to do unspeakable things
but no one forced me to take hits for that Lady
That was a choice I made
I dont seek my friends to fight my battles
I face it alone like ive faced everthing
but beaware to all Ive never seen a force this big 
The Angels weep in Heaven
And i will die with the strength my friends inspired in me
Form: Bio

Feelings.

They can make you go wild,
           they can tear you apart,
           they can some times break your heart.
           If not handled with the greatest of care,
            you will cause a lot of damage,
           please be aware.
           What can seem so easy is complicated too,
           it can happen to any body,
           even me and you.
             Its a feeling that wont go away,
             Its a feeling you want forever to stay.
             However when it is handled all wrong,
             it will haunt you, your whole life long.
               It should be kept in your mind,
               never to stray,
               sometimes it is better that way.
                Im talking about feelings deep in my heart,
               though that is only the start.
               the rest is up to you ,
                 I don't know what to do.

Infamy

Let’s celebrate Pearl Harbor – and why not?
A pretext for a party?  It’s terrific!
It simply wouldn’t do if we forgot
that evil bid to conquer the Pacific!

There’s one aggressive nation, poised to strike:
it has, somehow, to come up with a ruse:
the victim is distracted, zombie-like:
“we need to manufacture an excuse!”

I’m talking not of Arizona, Shaw
or Utah, but a stealth attack on Spain
so slily undertaken years before:
I’m talking of the sinking of the Maine.

In February eighteen ninety-eight,
Americans (the new kids on the block)
were throwing round a bit of Yankee weight,
and bombed a warship in Havana Dock.

What’s wrong with that?  Why, nothing – if you think
that killing folks to start a war is fine.
The vessel that the hawks picked out to sink
was US Navy, stricken by “a mine”.

The yellow press of Pulitzer and Hearst
demanded Cuba and the Philippines,
defied Don Juan to do his wimpish worst:
he’d blown our mighty Maine to smithereens.

A special corner is reserved in Hell
for those who hate the truth, and help it vanish:
for Pulitzer and Hearst knew very well
the culprits were American, not Spanish.

The “mine” account (excuse me) was exploded:
investigators sent out from Madrid
found nothing to support it.  Dice were loaded.   
The Yankees yearned to start a fight – and did.

The Sampson Board (American, of course)
with comic opera characters in place
(Commander Converse!) said the use of force
was fully recommended in this case.

Why can’t we be content with what we’ve got?
Why pilfer from the other person’s plate?
Two hundred US sailors died – for what?
So Uncle Sam could steal some real estate.
Form: Quatrain

False Dreams

When everyone else is talking and talking…

And then something happens…

And then they talk about that thing that just happened.

And they all turn to me and ask what I think? 

And I try to explain something that happened a moment ago.

But it’s like, they already understand.

All of them, everyone in the world, everyone but me. 

And it’s like, they want me to say something that builds upon that understanding.

I have thoughts, and thoughts, and thoughts.

And the thoughts are very strange and dreamlike.

Not that anyone cares.

Maybe I said something crazy again, so they decided to move on.   

But whatever. 

I feel so free all of the sudden!

I can feel my surroundings lift and shift around me,

Until I am in a new place and time.

Because that was a dream!

Or maybe something very dream-like.

And I rest, until my alarm goes off!

And I open my phone to 50 messages.

And my mom is yelling at me for some reason.  

For what reason, I’ll never know.

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