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.
On the cusp of the night, forged by the steel of his will
Poised on the edge of forever, eternally still
Patient as time, as the yesteryears mark where he's been
Different from man, for the harrowing sights that he's seen
He once lived a life, full of promise and dreams as he grew
In a world where believing made everything real become true
Where a dance with the Devil destroyed everything in a night
And darkness prevailed, stripping all but a glimpse of the light
No man shall bow down to the filth that roam freely today
No woman nor child shall taste of the fear or dismay
The lost and the lonely a champion has chosen to serve
The weak and the weary shall have all the hope they deserve
The battle ensues every night, arson, murder and rape
As justice is dealt from behind the dark crusaders cape
Steeled by the resolve that injustice shall not be the way
No conscience, no remorse, no soft executioners stay
That which lies written in stone is etched there in blood
The conscience once felt as a child, washed away in a flood
Only truth paves a path to the future, let that be his tome
At the centre of hurt and corruption he's fashioned a home
A soul torn and lost evermore, in the blink of an eye
Bewildering fate taught a grieving young boy not to cry
Did destiny cause it to be - Or was it just that
The catalyst needed to transform a man into bat
Tortured by loss and regret through a cruel twist of fate
Carved a body and mind, that was tempered by vengeance and hate
Scales of injustice now measure the weight of our sins
In the instant that Bruce Wayne dies... then... BATMAN BEGINS
At dawn the bay bed glows peachy yellow.
The waters above blue-green and gleaming.
Further out a grey shroud of ripples entraps the yachts
with lace nets en-snaring a flock of hulls.
Yet farther out still, the sea surface glistens and sparkles.
Then, the bay yawns and stretches, waking up, refreshed.
The first breaths of wind seep in like fingers
grabbing to get a finger hold to pull
the windy gusts in, with big blow coming.
Soon the sea is a field of grey ripples,
which grow to wavelets lipped with flecks of white spray.
Now the yachts wake up and jostle like horses
pulling at their moorings, dragging side to side.
Listen, you can hear the dash of splashes prancing
on wave crests as the winds build up in the bay.
Sea's morn color and transparency now blurred.
Dawn's calm serenity and beauty now forgotten
Koala Bay's agenda has shifted to: Up anchor, Set sail and Play
The boat skippers and crew flock bayside to make it happen.
Both sailboats and sailors love to rock and roll in bay streaked
with gusts driving white horses with jockeys wearing white caps.
Hoist the sails, drop the mooring lines, tighten the sheets.
The yachts surge forward, like race horses, with muscles and sinew straining.
They leap through the waves with leaps, bounds, thumps and jumps.
The spray flies, flung by the wind against weather beaten faces
It is noisy now, with bash and splash and skippers yelping and barking at the crew.
Koala Bay loves the performance, loves to entertain.
Tonight the bay will be calm and serene again.
Time to herald the bay's softer underbelly of shear stunning beauty.
Tomorrow the wind will conduct and conjure up another day of rollicking fun and adventure.
are you a woman with a forgiving heart?
do you follow and adhere to the word of God?
are you a one who can forgive and forget?
are you in tune with the Holy Spirit?
commit your ways to the Lord and trust in Him to do
and He will then make your righteousness coming shining through
be still before the Lord and patiently on Him just wait
it's not about walking by sight it's about walking by faith
so where do you begin? how do you start?
to become a woman with a forgiving heart?
start by letting go of the malice and bitterness that you've obtained
forgive all those who have caused you in life some strain
rise above the pettiness and unloose the grudge
lay it at God's altar as only He has the right to judge
commit to a relationship with God and in Him just trust
it's not an option but an absolute must
so how do you become a woman with a forgiving heart?
what is it that you must do on your part?
you need to get your house in order and to God submit
to be healed and then cleansed by the power of the Holy Spirit
with a willingness to bear with others and put your grievances to the side
in the name of Jesus let His holiness in you now reside
the way to become a woman with a forgiving heart
is to be a committed and delightful disciple fulfilled with the love of God
What I really wanted to do was
Have a little fluffy buzz
All the flashing lights
Were ever so bright
In the evening night
The carpet ever so red
Does it know how much I am in debt?
Hopefully this roll will work
There will be food on my fork
Trying to make it here
Wondering how many guys are watching with a six pack of beer
But I will be a star
Not at some local rural bar
Instead on the wooden screen
Where everyone will pay attention to my fearful scream
You see I am in the first scene
This is my modeling dream
To get knocked off
While making out in the barn loft
Reading scripture
In a moving picture
Scheduled for a limited run
At midnight everyone will have fun
Only a few minutes my character will be done
Venturing outside the big city
Acting enthusiastic and witty
Then tomorrow I will head to another gig
Pitching household goods or the Christmas pig
Getting away with my good looks
While reading way too many books
Wondering if I should study how to cook
Then I can appear talking in the morning
Career now is really soaring
Offers start coming in
Celebrity status accompanied with a shot of gin
Reclining back in my director’s seat
Reflecting about the time when I was innocent and sweet
Those were precious memories indeed
Since that was when they planted my bad seed
“It's hoped that for every broken heart, there is a candle shining in the dark.“
A young girl lost in her secret hideout
Wondering what life on earth's all about
Living in the fear of angry outbursts
No I love you's, just unkind words that hurt.
Comfort only found in her mother's arms
She who suffered from the abusive harm
A mother doing the best that she could
In what her daughter never understood.
A child who never had the strength to try
Rising above troubled conflicts and fly
Illness struck a tender stage in her life
Which added to the confusion and strife.
Still she plodded on somehow, day by day
Slowly finding herself along the way
The years passed, tho’ those bad memories stayed
Souvenirs of those long fraught early days.
Then one sunshiny day, out of the blue
Her handsome prince charming came passing through
Now she flies above heartbreak of the past
Clasped onto wings of the love found at last.
“Keep the love light burning, whilst young hearts are learning.
For from love children know, beautiful people grow.
*
14th November 2020
It’s a part of me - Life and the perceptions and philosophises you hold Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Under her guidance, we stood at attention
Like a row of young soldiers, reciting the anthem
"Oh Say, Can You See?".. was a warbled contusion,
that could shatter your glasses, disturb other classes
out of tune, out of rhythm, but with avid enthusiasm
it could rattle the rafters of our little school
And with childish delusions, we thought we were cool!
As we stood in the room
she would move down the line
with a frown in the depth
of her leathery brow. She would bow
till her ear matched our voice
and her hand would be poised
with two fingers that cued,
keeping time with the tune.
She would grit all her teeth
bite the inside of cheeks
Such a serious task!
it was all that she asked
that we please.."DO YOUR BEST!"
When we mastered, at last
She would gasp, then exclaim
as we sang each refrain,
mixed with tears, she would clap
I remember it now...
Here I stand in this row
with my hand on my heart
as the first strain imparts
Yes, I know those old words...
they'll remain part of me
'til the day that I die
"O Say, Can You See?"...still familiar to me
But no..............I can't see....
with fresh tears in my eyes...
_________________________________________________
The equivalent of a cosmic flat tire, the star collector overheated again.
Should've topped off the subzero heat transmogger back at Stuckey's.
Yep we have 'em too.., who doesn't need a Pecan Log Roll, now and then.
Two Roadway startruckers snapped up the last Elmer's paste pies., the luckys.
Right between filling stations to boot, no triple A for a gojillion miles..
and one of my best pint sized, non-binary service robots on the blink.
Not my best idea, feeding her moonshrooms, peaked all his cortial dials,
eventually caused them to puke it up, all over my excremental sink.
Frazusoosh it! not even a UPB (Universal Phone Booth) to make a collect call,
to my mother (planet), which, by the way, is also useful for transmitting matter.
That's assuming you can find someone to accept the charges, of course, LOL.
Had to wash dishes for an eternity, last time, including dried on crupecake batter.
Drack's balls! stuck on this puny planet with obnoxious fumes corroding my chromium tail.
No wonder they call it air; the sixth least favorite word in the Corpadian lingo, P.U.!
Those creatures keep staring, I've tried to reason with them, even tried telepthy to no avail.
When I type in their reply to my trans-googling translator, all it comes back as is 'Moo'.
Oh thank goodness! A family of grubbers in a U Haul pulling over., whew!
Though probably have to sit on a lap, luckily they each have two.
252 words, including these
”Rego’s threescore encore tour”
(one of me oldest/best mates has just turned sexy/sixty and is celebrating in Ronda in Espagna)
Did you hear..“Wow the Rego’s Sexy”
So tasty.. like Iberico jamon
Come on ..don’t be hasty.. cloth ears
Before it goes to his head
His peers said “the Ego’s.. Now Sixty”
As those he holds dear all ponder
The wonder of those hero years
Having a ball..let’s say cheers
To a Brummie (with a touch of svelte Celt) not a Scallie
Rich voice of Villa on the pitch
Of course Redditch does bewitch
But he gets that wanderlust itch
Marky couldn’t be much fonder
Of a wee wander..then dilly dally
Won’t keep tally …go dullally
Rally down a hammy tapas alley
Fawns about those prawns over yonder
With your ladies..shindig grin adorns the big daddy
No whammy…just so bloody jammy..lucky plucky Paddy
Clearly can still be a really silly billy
But don’t let it fester..won’t pester
Fiesta to siesta…the jester of Ronda
He denies its lies...this guy’s got a prize wil*y
Sixty years young…still well hung
Between his thighs..behind his flies
He does surmise..the size of an anaconda
Famous for an old bridge over a ruddy ridge
Flocks in the tourist mist..tall tales
But what a shock..never ever fails
To be now.. somehow beer a clock
My sneaky cheeky buddy..
Lovely locks…you “silver fox”
Anyhow have a corking trip…run amok..
Let rip….aficianado bravado…wind in your sails
Blissed yesteryear gist..bucket list scale
And we’re not talking about the stale
Fuddy duddy.. austere que*r valley
That in comparison pales…& hails from Wales (Rhondda)
p.s does tickle me that.. already in a ickle bit of a pickle.. you drain another jar in Spain …no shame..a thirst you can’t tame…that ha ha…not being fickle..R-onda (red honda) is also my car’s name …
The other night as every
night since and before
My weary eye's drifted into
wonder sleep and i began
to snore
And then of 12 frog's i eventually dreamt
Belly down crawling stuck
on a concourse prison floor
And once awake i took the
time to look it's meaning
and definition up
And this is what i read
This it what it said
Rebirth
Transformation
Hope
Evolution
Positivity
Good luck
Yet somehow all i see is
prison bar's and the inside
of 4 wall's
On Cell Door Number 12
For i fear in reality i am a
lonesome tadpole trying
ever far to hard
To find a frog princess willing
enough to let me even near
let alone kiss them
As clearly somehow something
must obviously be amis way down
deep inside me
Petals In The Wind
As the chrysalis splits open and squeezes out the butterfly
Its wings wet and wrinkled until they have the time to dry
As the bud bursts in the first warm sun of spring
Opens up its petal and accepts the bee without a ring.
As the blossoms open one by one to bloom and grow
Petals opening wide revealing all they have to show
Waiting their turn until it’s then their time to fall
As all in turn wither, and cover the ground as a shawl.
The petals slowly wither and dry as sure as the bee
Did his pollinating job so well and so beautifully
The petal dries no longer needed, its job now done
It leaves the branch floats on the breeze, catches the last ray of sun.
As it floats with each gasp that Mother Nature blows
It twists and turns flirting with life wherever it goes
Till its trapped and it falls back to the ground in decay
Feeding back its mother earth, nutrients for another fine day.
© 22/01/2013 ~GG~
Contest Entry: Petals In The Wind