Long Then Poems
Long Then Poems. Below are the most popular long Then by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Then poems by poem length and keyword.
Had You taken that first step and said you want me(2s)
Had you opened up your heart to let me in(3 Syllables/3s)
Where would we be then, but on a journey till the end
Yes I..I.. I.... would’ve fallen
I would’ve fallen(3s)...
I would’ve fallen...
Yes I..I.. I... would’ve fallen
Why fight forever when it’s standing there before us
Why make the other doubt what we already know(3s)
When you turned around to go, I was dealt a heavy blow
Cause I..I..I..would’ve fallen
I would’ve fallen(3s)...
I would’ve fallen...
Yes I..I..I... would’ve fallen
I’m sitting here try’n to fool myself
By putting feelings that been set free back on the shelf(3s)
It’s anything but fun, not having what I want
When my heart has already gone all in
I would’ve fallen..
I would’ve fallen..
Yes I..I..I. would’ve fallen................
Yes I..I..I.. would’ve..fallen
Someone asked me why I write.
I thought long and hard to come
up with a why,
Then the answer came quickly.
I was a wounded child, and my
heart overflowed with pain.
I needed an outlet, or I would
go insane.
Instead of cutting myself physically
I bled out on a page.
All of the hurt that I endured I wrote
about it.
The more I wrote, the better I felt.
Not only did I write about my pain,
but I also wrote about everything.
My hopes, dreams and fantasies.
If one reads my work, they are
reading what is in my soul.
Writing wasn't a mere coincidence;
it was a lifeline; it saved and healed
me. Sometimes I'm a bit long-winded
but there's no simple answer
to why I write.
Alexis Y.
12-16-2020
Sitting in a ray of Vitamin D
Sunlight magic God has given to me,
How much more comfortable can I be?
Holy healing light is totally free.
This makes me feel like singing with glee.
Steps to the house are barely twenty-three.
Sitting next to my majestic oak tree,
Surveying my forest and all I can see.
Butterfly floats by on heels of a bee.
Appreciating nature is the main key
Here come the faeries, the fey, and the wee.
In beautiful formation of magic letter Z.
Hesitate as they near my human knee.
Leprechaun hops up and serenades me.
They plant my garden with carrot and pea
Then they race away to the meadow green sea
You say that you're a Democrat
There must be something wrong with that
Have you done gone and lost your mind
You say that you're Republican
Fat and angry twice as dumb
Ain't that what all Republican's are like
Why can't we all just get along
Holding hands singing Kumbaya
Ain't that what it is Americans do
Instead of arguing all the time
Over who is wrong and who is right
Telling each other to go get screwed
I think we all just need to see
Who's our friend and who's our enemy
Instead of fighting amongst ourselves
If we all would take the time
I'll kiss your rear if you kiss mine
We'd have that part settled if nothing else
Still Democrat, believe you need
To get yourself a lobotomy
Then you would at least have half a brain
And Republican get yourself a heart
Then perhaps you might just start
To be somewhat loving and semi-kind
All in jest...
Who needs a hug?
So many pennies,
lost in the system,
rejected, neglected,
dejected -
cursed by '99' price tags,
a charity box favourite,
nobody wants nor waits for.
So many forgotten pennies,
lost on the streets or behind our sofas,
yet pounds are never thrown away.
Both are round, so why do they only care for the pound?
Maybe its a matter of currency and colour,
or social structure, value and power.
No pound without pennies,
only empty piggy banks and jars,
but pound lovers take pennies for granted,
abuse us, belittle us, try to control us.
They get jealous of our shine,
try to manipulate us into a mouldy depression -
no wonder there are so many homeless pennies.
When did we stop being a priority,
descend to the bottom of society.
Just because we are misunderstood, do not fit in,
we are still round, but ignored by the system
a conflict of civilisation.
Imagine if all the pennies got together,
instead of being slaves to the pound?
Then surely we'd be stronger,
or would we just become pounds?
Has the penny dropped yet?
Sunday thoughts
Silent One
9 February 2020
Back when I was a child,
they said I was poor,
but I did not know it.
Until one of my teachers pointed at me and said,
it’s okay for you to show it,
and that you have no cause for shame.
I should have asked her then,
but my mind didn’t comprehend,
and to this day I still think about what message
she was trying to send.
Ashamed of what— I never knew,
so I lived my childhood
without ever having a clue.
Maybe there was something,
or someone I should blame.
But I was never one to follow the rules of the game.
I just smiled and said okay,
then I walked out to join my friends,
on the playground’s monkey bars.
I was the king of the monkey bars,
and I was not ashamed of that either.
Life hanging by the thread..
Plagued by intermittent sadness
Falling into the darkness..
A black void..
A bottomless pit continues..
Searching for answers in a maze of fury..
Hold on..
A roller coaster ride of twists and turns..
Ups and downs
A spiral of chaos..
Almost faster then the speed of light
Doubts lingering like stale perfume
Saturated in deep confusion..
A jigsaw puzzle awaiting to be solved..
Hold on..
Spinning out of control..
Love withheld carries the pain within..
Awaiting whirlwinds of hope..
To comfort the soul..
Had reached the top of the roller coaster..
Rapidly speeding down..
Held the force of life..
Of which is love..
Love now explodes..
Embodied by love
As it caresses the spirit..
Hold on..
No more..
Darkness dissipates..
A void is full of grace..
Beaming with brightness..
Light and love surrounds..
Hold on..
No more..
Acknowledge..
Let it go..
Too Much TV
David J Walker
I imagined
a grand theme song
And the applause
of a capitative audience
A clever line or two and then
The laugh track
Of an amused
though admittedly
phantom audience
I was as quick as
Dick VanDyke
And as light
on my feet
as Danny Kaye
as heroic
and stoic
as Matt Dillon in
Dodge City
And as good looking as
Ricky Ricardo
I knew every answer
Before it was asked
On What’s My Line
And fooled every panel on
To tell the truth
Every time
And it would not be long
Before my made-up song
Would debut on
The Ed Sullivan Show
TURN OFF THE TV
AND FINISH YOUR HOMEWORK
Hollard Mom a thousand times
And she would holler it
a thousand more
before
I was out the door
And on my way to
A career
In TV
news
No laugh track
No applause
Just the blues
Of another day
On your 10 O’clock news
So, yes
I grew up watching
Too much TV
Didn’t you?
Salem Village, Massachusetts
May 11, 1692
Of evil works in league with the devil, I am accused.
Spit upon, bolts tethered in chains, I have been abused.
People mardle I cast spells of palsie to make them twitch.
Blinded by fear, they labeled me a sorceress, a witch.
Superstition is to blame for blinding their eyes.
I claim innocence when affronted by boisterous cries.
"Burn the witch!" they shout in frenzied outrage.
Until tomorrow's trial, I am to be kept inside a cage.
These Puritans are wrong to think they do God's will.
Christians should not have such an urgency to kill.
There is no talk of banishment. That would be a blessing,
but the crimes they say I committed, I am not confessing.
Other women in the village are facing this tragic fate.
Pity that our lives will be in the hands of the magistrate.
Sorrow fills me knowing I will meet death on the gallows
and tossed in a grave, not worthy of ground that is hallow.
I am already convicted in the minds of those who leer.
My pleas of having done nothing wrong, they do not hear.
All of a dudder, I hear them say, "She is a witch possessed!"
"Forsooth," I will cry in court, "to witchery I have not confessed!"
Somewhere from outside, I faintly hear a church bell clanging.
Then, a hoard of voices screaming, "It is time for hanging!"
I write these words before the mob comes to take me away.
God, please keep me in your heart. I will not live another day.
Bridget Bishop,
Falsely accused of being a witch
Before you turn those sacred pages,
And corner me to a sinner's numbness,
And strike the balances as raged sages,
Remember I have touched holiness.
Before you strike similes with a smile,
And make prayers as heavy perfumed incense,
And speak of heavens - me, you don't beguile,
Remember my spirit can discern pretense.
Before you speak of gods and goddesses,
And talk of the only One, High and Mighty,
Then why each belief has created wars and curses,
Remember until now, I see only religiosity.
Before you spew fire and brimstone,
And sublimate things that none have seen,
Drag me not into quagmires - for I know a cornerstone,
That treated a harlot like a queen.
Before you point fingers and whip tongue-slander,
And to the poor, you look down and frown,
And speak of blessings and fortune's favor,
Remember hunger blesses and sleep is a crown.
Before you equate prosperity with sanctity,
"On these fleeting faces, oh what a disgrace!",
The eye of the needle permits sacrosanctity,
Remember the flower vanishes without a trace.
Before boast becomes a subject of privilege,
And places of worship become a high lifted banner,
As the knee bends and hands fold, forgo deep sacrilege,
Remember honied duplicity is for the fire.