Long Telling Poems
Long Telling Poems. Below are the most popular long Telling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Telling poems by poem length and keyword.
Most things begin at the start
but truly not all do that way
for we don’t see clearly at all
mixed up not knowing night or day
Man needs to come to his end
to see he’s got nothing to show
facing up to the reality of life
taking it on the chin this hefty blow
Having now come to his own end
there he’ll see God’s real beginning
as God shows himself a true friend
the bells in man’s head will be ringing
Here God shows truth in inward parts
working in us from the inside out
revealing Himself to the sinful soul
His still soft voice speaks without a shout
Telling this burdened soul of his state
that Jesus came His soul to redeem
paying the ultimate price for his sin
assuring him this is no ordinary dream
Do you ever feel like you are losing your mind,
Stand up and speak ~ would you feel so inclined.
Enter a room and ask yourself why you are there,
Re-tracing every step, trying to become aware.
Or telling a great story then you get halfway,
You think, now what exactly was I going to say.
Drive to the grocery store to buy a thing or two,
Once home you find you forgot the main item, stew.
You meet a friend in the store, you know her face,
What’s her name ~ you feel like such a disgrace.
You plan a dinner for friends that cannot be missed,
But you have to write all the menu details on a list.
Ask your husband a question and he answers no,
Now did he say yes or no, I forget, ~ oh say it isn’t so.
Friends reassuringly say its your age, it’s just stress,
I worry for my family, terrified for myself, I must confess.
My Mom died of Alzheimer's, a disease of the mind
The loss of mental function and quality of life is unkind
There’s nothing that can be done, so I sit and wait
To see if I will end up like my mother, a terrible fate.
*The most common cause of dementia is Alzheimer Disease. It estimated there are 35.6 million people with dementia worldwide. The economic cost is $604 billion (US dollars) in 2010. * Reference: World Alzheimer Report 2010. Alzheimer Disease International.
Written by Lee Ramage
September 13, 2011
For Debbie Guzzi’s Contest
“Unmentionables”
Won 7th place
(This is a fictional poem)
When I was a child, I ordered action figures through the mail.
They sent them in cellophane bags and I always caught hell.
I removed the action figures and threw away the bags.
Instead of being trusted, I was constantly nagged.
Mom found some of the cellophane bags when she looked in the trash.
Dad went through my things because he thought I had drugs stashed.
They checked my body for needle marks, they even looked between my toes.
I told them that I didn't take drugs but they wouldn't let it go.
Dad said that I had to be spanked.
He said it would hurt now but one day he'd be thanked.
He put me over his knee and slapped my rear.
I had a porcupine in my pants and it drove Dad to tears.
My parents constantly hounded me during my youth.
They never believed me even though I was telling the truth.
During my prom, I was grounded instead of spanked.
Dad couldn't go to work for days because of the sugar I poured in his gas tank.
When my parents found my flea powder, they thought it was cocaine.
They handcuffed me to the bed and poured it down the drain.
They still think I'm a drug user even though I work for the DEA.
They won't believe me no matter what I say.
Form:
A deep, dark kindred spider looms to proffer the sentiment,
That abuse just objectifies the long persistent winter:
Scouring around playfully, but embedded in the night -
Two way of seeing it but only one plight.
That black body, its piercing eyes drive acutely,
In the lengthy web that’s receptive but selfish with quirk,
With thin, spindly legs which effect to mobilise,
The creature only some befriend to glamourise.
We hold to the summer, autumn and spring as the norm,
Not winter’s harrowing chill which makes us so often ill;
The act of telling someone you've been raped, abused,
Should not be a sick kick or a jester’s a thrill.
If you don't give us our minds, stance and chirps,
You'll just be cushioning that admiring psychologist,
Who asks us about physical abuse, sexual, and rape,
But who we hate to have as we’ve no trait.
Give us our spirits, intellect and powers:
Don't glare, glance and glower at our ordinary activities;
Equality only exists when you feel it and can tower,
In the informal social networks of civil conviviality.
And of course, nasty small talk itself causes rape,
Violence and abuse which derides and can shape,
The heart that reaches out to befriend and welcome,
The fence-sitter, the open mind who quietly relates.
But if you say physical abuse just objectifies other lesser evils,
Like criticising needlessly, cutting us off, and gloating,
Then your sick in the head and unforgivable,
Because all discrimination is unnecessary and avoidable.
I stood up on the table to see what was there and the ground began to shake throwing objects all over the place; the tall building collapse and sinks instantly into the ground the house fell on its side covering everyone alive.
The trees began to tumble down and the mountains give way and the earth swallowed up its prey and the bridge that connects the cities crashes suddenly and fell into the sea and a ferocious wind began to blow tossing the city to and fro.
Screams and shout echoes from a distance and the heavens open its pregnant wings and empty gallons of water in the dry stream and the desert crawls helplessly on its broken knees and soaked its body.
The tectonic plate has shifted and I moving into another direction, it has been going on for more than three billion years and it is finally getting there. A three-dimensional figure is converging in the center, the transformation has begun, and the earth is singing a new song. The wall of the city has broken down and wanderers were ejected from the town, everything is closing in and a new atmosphere is chiming in.
Things happen suddenly to throw you off balance and the big crack across the street is telling you that the journey is complete; it took the travelers by surprise but there was nothing much that they could do but put on a different pair of shoes and watch the earth tectonic plates grind past one another, releasing lots of energy around the corner. It spews lava out of the ground and the molten rock deep within the earth is moving rapidly between the tectonic plate.
I can feel the magma under my feet, and I have an urgent message to complete, the magma is moving towards the east and the temperature is cursing over a hundred degree.
The heavens above are getting warm and the landscape is changing its form. The mountain is modifying it ridge and the magma is escaping over the hill; the plates are sliding past each other, and they are spreading between one another forming a tapestry all over the place you have to get ready for the marathon race.
The city center is closing down, and the people are evacuation out of the town. You must prepare for a crucial showdown. The tapestry is spreading and transforming the entire town.
women are the backbone
of a multitude of success
because women are known
to always give their very best
women have given birth
to those who have grow up to be
righteous men and women with godly personalities
those who promote the agenda of God
those who have grace instilled in their hearts.
women can give birth to destinies
in the midst of adversity
women also give birth to those
who in the spirit tend to soar free
women have been known to reach down
in the womb of time by fulfilling prophecies
because when women stand by
there's no telling what will come to be
women give birth to ideas, to causes
and to plans
women stand back and stand by
as they hold to God's unchanging hands
many say women are weak
but little do they know
that giving birth is no small feat
it's a miraculous godly show
when women stand by
genocide is thwarted
the plans of the devil's disciples
then become distorted
as God will use your present enemy
to restore your future promise
for God is in the midst to reveal
those who are dishonest
midwives have always had a special place
when it comes to God's design
those women who stand by to help
give birth
when life is on the line
yet Pharaoh tried to coerce them
to kill little baby boys
but two midwives refused to take part
in that mission to destroy
when the women stand by
life becomes precious and preserved
When the women stand by
we always get what we deserve
positioned to now be a catalyst of change
an opportunity to now represent
placed to now seek your purpose
and give rise to your testament
so recognize your place in this world
and discover your godly mission
and no matter what path
you choose to take,
make sure God is part of that decision
when the women stand by,
life will always be sustained
because Shiprah, Puah, Miriam & Harriet
stood firmly on God's name
when the women stand by
You never listened to my warning
Now a violent storm is brewing
Deep inside your soul
Raging way out of control
Soon your gonna be
Full of mad insanity
Overflowing from the depths
Of your soul--but worse case yet
Your pulled in--not coming back
This inner turmoil attack
Is taking over all your senses
You try to summon your defenses
But holding it you just explode
You are in a terror mode
That is never gonna change
Your attitude is re-arranged
To someone I don't recognize
This person before my eyes
Is scary and full of painb
When did this sorrow gain
Momentum--using force
Bringing your whole life off course
I wish you had come my way
Telling me of the dismay
That was forming in your mind
I would have tried to find
A solution to help end
All this anguish of my friend
Now your gone--I can not see
Any way to set you free
There across the movie screen,
treats were dancing and
telling us to find them at
the concession stand.
Yes, I knew I should not go.
I‘d just eaten lunch.
At the snack bar, they beguiled,
“Have a little munch!”
M & M’s and Hershey bars -
chocolaty delight -
with such smooth deep voices asked
me to take a bite!
Hot dogs nearly barked out, “Don’t
let us go to waste!”
Meanwhile candies sweetly sang,
“Have a little taste.”
Then an Ice cream bar chimed in,
“Take a bite of me!
I can take a licking too
and most happily.”
Pepperoni pizza was
sure a little tease.
calling out with Nachos, “Hey,
We’ve got lots of cheese!”
At that dine-in theater
clamored other food.
Subway, Arby’s, many more
sounding rather rude.
They were all competing , but
Popcorn filled the air
with its heady butter scent.
What a circus there!
All were screaming out to me
(though I don’t know why),
“Bite me! Bite me!” Don’t foods know
bitten, they will die?
Well, I bought the popcorn as
my dear hubbie sighed,
“We already had our lunch.”
“Bite me,” I replied.
In 7/5 Trochee Form for the Bite Me Contest of John Lawless
Love Notes in a Bottle
It came as a last meandering thought
How could I know?
Maybe a thousand years from now
On a far away shore
Would exist a lady of mystical lore
Reciting sonnets of medieval tales
In magic forests, dreaming of love
As I love
Who could feel a bond so delicate as a doves feathers
A pain so strong, like a tiger wronged
That to part would mean emotional low tides to come
That she could feel the loneliness of night
The scent of the morning dew
The feeling of rain upon ones breast
The smell of the rose
The view of the meadows
The Laughter as the children danced
The plea of one whose heart bleeds
The desires to capture love and yet remain free
Her eyes would show her ageless beauty
Her smile would hide her thoughts
Wrapped deep
Inside of old love letters
She would sigh
As I recited old prose
We would hand in hand repose
Knowing growing old is how it goes
Alas she is but an image in my mind
A thousand years till birth
Or even more
A fantasy, that lets me die in peace
That someone could love as I loved thee
You were my past, and my eternity
Lovers who never took flight
Broken wings, and broken borders
Boundaries never crossed
Kisses though we never lost
On every wind swept shore
I wander with the birds scouting overhead
As wave upon wave of desolation slaps my head
A woman is over there by the sea
She but a stranger in the mist
So not at all is she thee
A thousand years from now
On wind swept shore
Will she be forlorn?
Weeping for the likes of me
Whispering inside, he was here but a thousand years ago
Love letters telling loves desires
Inside a bottle and buried in sand
Alas is the ocean not made of ancient tears
My little granddaughter can hear when the elves
Talk wearing her red flower dress they're telling
Her in their ancient language that there's magic
In the old old trees.
Standing there in their cool shade with the sun-
Light shining through she can see the white and
Blue lights in varying
Degrees.
These trees are mystic
And gigantic
They brighten any adversity.
My little granddaughter can hear when the elves
Talk wearing her red flower dress they're telling
Her in their ancient language that there's magic
In the old old trees.
They're therapeutic.
They hold the key
For us to see
That they're perfect.
My little granddaughter can hear when the elves
Talk wearing her red flower dress they're telling
Her in their ancient language that there's magic
In the old old trees.