Long Talking about Poems
Long Talking about Poems. Below are the most popular long Talking about by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Talking about poems by poem length and keyword.
leaves talking like friends
as
they
free
fall
a spiritual wind kisses them red
and
squirrels
scurry
under
them
collecting acorns, dusting an earthen shelf.
leaves
softly land
and are raked
into a great gathering
huddled in the autumn air
leaves talking about life and death
2nd place winner
Contest: Leaves Talking
9/15/2016
“Once a king or queen in Narnia,
Always a king or queen,” said C S Lewis,
And I think I can just about let you in on,
What he was talking about, as I'm no novice.
I was forced to read the bible twice daily,
By my parents until I was above twelve,
And they always reminded me and assured,
That they’d said Jesus to me as a new born elf.
But I got so confused and bedraggled,
By that dogma which screeches and screams,
That after a brush with that old fiend,
Decided to secretly read it to check its memes.
So I devoured the bible ‘cos I read it historically,
With time’s context in mind and aware,
And understood it as a recital of progress,
And a story of the availability of healthcare.
Ever since then I’ve been understanding and able,
To reply to fundamentalists who loiter to attack,
Able to react comfortably and with peace,
With answers on which I’ve never looked back.
You resign that Jesus wasn’t a psychologist,
You put to bed that he wasn’t a philosopher,
And in insight realise he was really a doctor,
But the first one maybe to treat those poorer.
And you get that Jesus death did good now,
Let the grass roots of the sick speak freely,
As the inception of personal empowerment,
As a voice for any man with a daily disability.
People were so enraged, and Jesus’ bitter,
About his suppression and criminal death,
That it became the symbol of the church,
For the underdog’s freedom and health.
After you get it, you know, and are content,
Solid in an understanding of modern society,
Of the NHS and how it came and has got there,
Of Lord Bevaridge’s prescription for poverty.
You never look back, but you regret knowing,
Sometimes when some intellectuals stare,
When hard atheists say Jesus never existed,
When about your reputation you do care.
But after you explain simply to those you like,
That you’ve read the Bible atheistically,
Historically and remembering the context,
They never deride you again uncaringly.
You’re not an evangelical but just explaining,
What you know from a school’s analysis,
From how your teachers with you interpreted,
Roman, Tudor and Victorian histories.
There seems to be a trend these days,
an obsession with novelty,
and like most bad things of this age
it is traced back to the sixties,
at least the latest form of it,
for in truth, it’s always plagued us,
I’m talking about those who jump
on the newest and latest cause.
It’s really kind of a fetish,
this whole-hog embrace of the new,
that newer is always better,
too many accept this as true.
Whether they call themselves ‘progressive,’
a term wrapped in sheer arrogance,
or whether it is just their youth
that makes them hate all before them,
the fact is they misunderstand
the role that a new idea plays,
and have long failed to realize
the value of ideas that stay.
A tradition only exists
because time has shown it too work,
and human nature doesn’t change,
so ignoring this only hurts.
We saw it with socialism,
the dawning of a ‘better age,’
one hundred million dead later,
and still some fools will sing it praise.
And how many utopians
built communities to do right,
only to collapse in squabbling,
the once peaceful cause now a plight.
And how many revolutions
in art or film or music came,
only to die off in a week,
or come out sounding much the same?
How many countless Holy Men
had proclaimed that they have ‘the way,’
only to end up starting cults,
and with fool woman have their play?
Our ancestors called us tragic,
bound up by our unchanging flaws,
and saw that human beings are
tied up with immutable laws.
The arrogance of the present,
and the surge in technology
has convinced many that they are
better than past humanity.
But the cold truth is we are not,
we’re still walking on the same trail,
and ninety-nine of a hundred
brand new ideas are bound to fail.
A new idea that’s untested,
the product of only one mind,
stands little chance against concepts
that have survived travails of time...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
It burns me so, the things I learn as I get older
I am not talking about confidence life hacks and salsa
The things we figure out are lies that we were taught
to believe as a trusting child we were being conditioned
for a economy that for the first time they had no clue
what they would need from me amd you.
They will need a certain amount for prison guilty or not
thats double and triple the profit everyone gets kick backs
this is why they can seng you to prison for crimes that never happen
just as long as their interogation tactics can break you down
to confess to something that they say will get free so you can relax
It burns me to know the things i have learned like a torment
that lingers so
Because you can not share the truth you find because we were
conditioned to ignore intuition for blind trust to follow someone
elses ambitions bred to be slaves under the rules of politicians
who them self's are bought and paid for like they had no soul to burn
To be continued...................
A Haunted house on the block
What was a factory now it’s not
The entire community noticed the change
Nights became spooky
Inside the haunted house, one could hear wall cracks, Moans and Screams
When stormy nights brought lightning flashes and loud thunder cracks
The neighborhood knew it was the midnight hour
Unrest and no sleep
At the community grave yard, Souls moaned to rise and walk among the living
Terrorizing and Fear
Neighborhood doors were locked and secure
Windows closed tightly
Yet, we are talking about Souls who are ghostly able to penetrate through anything
The Haunted house brought attention to the community
Stories told of a factory worker being killed by a Automatic machine sew
No one knows why nor would the soul of the killed worker return for revenge
The owners of the Haunted house were very strange and stayed to themselves
They didn’t want to have any conversation with the community nor the outside world
Strange throughout on the neighborhood minds
There were dead bodies found within the Haunted house, but where did they come from?
No answers and clues
Moans and Screams continued on
The peril of the gloom of night, day with the midnight hour coming again, what will happen and who will be the victims of Death
Thereafter, only the haunted house only knows
Thrills upon thrills
Evil upon Evil
The wait and uncertainty
Haunted House peril.
She was a very beautiful woman, both inside and out.
She was one hell of a lady; that's what I'm talking about.
The world became a better place in 1977 on the day of her birth.
She married in 2007 and her husband was the luckiest man on Earth.
She starred in Drexell's Class, Almost Home, and Sister Sister.
She was a wonderful human being and people will miss her.
She was a talented lady and she was very sweet.
I regret that the two of us didn't get a chance to meet.
It was very sad that the Lord decided that it was time for her to leave.
She was surrounded by loved ones when she was buried on Christmas Eve.
She was unique; there will never be another person like her again.
Millions of people are devastated because her life came to an end.
(DEDICATED TO BRITTANY MURPHY WHO DIED DECEMBER 20, 2009.)
Every morning, as the sun rises, my first thought is about you.
I rush downstairs, thinking I would be able to see you before I go to school.
But then, I realize I won’t see you.
Every night, as I’m ready to go to sleep,
I sit in my bed waiting for you to knock on my door and come in to say goodnight.
But then, I realize you will not be coming.
Every time I hear or see a piano,
I think about how later that night, you and I would sit and play together.
But then, I realize we can’t do that anymore.
Every time someone talks about what they’re doing with their dad’s this weekend,
I want to tell them how you and I are going to do something together.
But then, I realize we can’t do things together.
Every time someone brings up something funny their dad did,
I want to tell them what you used to do and how hilarious you were.
But then, I realize I cannot bring myself to say it.
Every time someone asks me about my dad,
I find myself going on and on about the things we used to do together.
But then, I realize we won’t ever be able to do those things together.
Every time I think about coming home after school,
I imagine us sitting down and talking about each other’s days.
But then, I realize we can’t do those things anymore.
Every time I think about the future,
I imagine you walking me down the aisle at my wedding.
But then, I sit and realize that you can’t even be there to experience it with me.
Every time I find myself thinking about you,
I tell myself to stop, because you’ll be back later tonight
But then, I realized that you’re not coming back.
Every time I get sad about never seeing you again,
I tell myself to stop because you would want me to be happy.
And then, I realized that it’s okay to be sad and it’s okay to miss you,
because I should feel grateful that I got to spend the time I did with you.
There are man things to love about love one is how it follows no set pattern…no rules…no norms…another is how it can pop up all around us in many sizes…shapes and forms.
We spotted this older couple (let me digress a moment to discuss…when I say older couple what I mean is a couple who’s older than us).
Anyway, we spotted this older couple…we’ve never seen them here before…as they exited their car to take a morning walk along the shore.
As I say…they were a little older and what made matters even worse…to get down to the shore…there is a little ridge they must traverse.
But we found we needn’t worry…this ridge…they had an answer for…he held her hands to steady her…until her feet were safely planted on the shore.
And still holding on to his hands…even though she was quite small…she helped him down the ridge…making sure he didn’t fall.
Then off they walked together…down the beach…along the sand…walking toward the sunrise…stride for stride…and hand in hand.
This is just what I was talking about…exactly what I was thinking of…as what we witnessed on the beach were two simple acts of love.
The first is how love helps love…as we realized when their scaling was done…their task was made less difficult…with two…instead of one.
And the second…as we watched them walk along silhouetted in the morning glow…
the second is my favorite…
how love means…
never letting go.
Meet a fabulous woman
asked her for a date
she excepted my invite
I went home and prepared
for that day
I smiled when I met her
things got underway
I remember it was
a special day
Flowers and chocolates
ah scented perfume
she smiled and excepted it
from the first week of March
til round about June
we meet and dated
got our instruments fine tuned
we started singin about
ah Kookey love together
Ah Lovers endeavor
)She and I(
Made references to marriage
said she wanted ah ring
told me she was in love
you know that whole
Lovers thing
said she was pregnant
we were on our way
What's more to say
we're in love
Happy Is the song
she gave me
Happiness we'll play the role
She and I together
we just let love take control
Happy was the song that saved me
when I was down and out
happy was the song she gave me
if you really know love
you know what I'm talking about
Please Try Something New
You have six favorite words.
They always show up in the first or second stanza
To read one of your poems
is to read them all
The redundancy would drive me mad
Make me want to swallow a three foot twig with branches
Because I am already gagging on same-oh, same-oh
When I read your newest which is also your oldest
You have a mindset that is as flexible as concrete
Throwing in political absoluteness for no understood reason
I run from your poetry, wanting to clean my eyes with saltwater
I can write those six words
But I won't
Because then everyone would instantly know
Whose poems I am talking about,
And I like you as a person.
I just want you to try something NEW.