Long They Poems
Long They Poems. Below are the most popular long They by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long They poems by poem length and keyword.
Night terrors invade my dreams late at night:
unable to breathe; I gasp, terrified.
Beyond nightmares, terrors fuel a fright:
that's so intense that on waking, I've cried.
Dead soldiers keep whispering in my head;
their constant murmur, morphing into screams.
And I say prayers to ward off the dead;
still, they manifest themselves in my dreams.
It begins with little more than a sigh:
then suddenly, I'm overwhelmed by fear.
Escalating, I feel like I will die:
and once I wake, the fear doesn't disappear.
War's unrelenting, agonizing pain;
tortures me, over and over again.
Standing in front of this enormous masterpiece,
Seeing his life story as the layers release.
I wasn’t warned to expect a wonder so rare.
I guess I expected a melting clock here or there.
Venus di Milo inspired his hallucinating toreador.
Dali features her likeness fourteen times or more.
Three of the statuesque figures are full life size.
The painting is over twelve feet high, quite a surprise.
For his toreador with all the masculine strength of Spain.
He chose a goddess of feminine beauty not in vane.
Encompassed in her body is the face of the toreador.
His cream shirt and the button to hold it, as placed before.
The toreador’s green tie fits neatly into place.
Flies marching in straight lines, his hat they retrace.
A splash of color and patterns depict his suit of lights,
The bull exploding through his cape is in our sights.
A Dalmatian dog, its head down to the ground.
Is in what would seem light flickering all around.
And a tiny portrait of Dali as a boy is to the dog’s right.
Dali’s wife is in a cameo top left, she hates the bull fight.
His whole painting is the bull fighting arena to engage.
The magnificent toreador is resplendent in center stage.
The color and flow of the scene being artfully set.
Such hallucinations and even more to be found yet.
Venus is so cold and sedate, the flamboyant toreador.
Swishing his giant cape masterfully the crowd adore.
He shows the banderillos used to taunt the bull.
Blood shows as blue and the bullfight is here to its full.
Could it be ironic a swarm of Girona flies once deterred a fight.
Yet as strong as the bull is, it can do nothing to escape its plight?
In my opinion, my dear country, America, has lost her way. Many Americans and well wishers are praying that she fines her way home. I am doing my best though writing, voting, and praying that America would find her way home. The best way home is to return in a very serious way to the God of our fathers. No, they were not perfect to say the least, and they did some very wrong things like injustice to the American Indians and slavery to people from Africa to name just a couple. Nevertheless, the forefathers did a lot of thing right as they charted a course for a brave new world.
We are at the cross roads, a juncture, a valley of decision, whereby we stay the course of an imperfect Democratic Republic or turn left where many a nation have fail in an attempt at building a utopia. The only utopia better than the one we've got is a place called heaven and political action, cultural revolution, and dismissing God will not get us there. But God's Positioning System(GPS) wll.
02212020PoSp
Then Abraham said, “If they will not listen to Moses and prophets, neither will they persuaded if someone would rise from the dead.” Luke 16:31
As a reporter
I once interviewed a priest who experienced a dramatic conversion
Before that he had regularly gotten a serious trouble
He wanted nothing to do with the Catholic faith that his mother continually urged him to practice
As compelling and joy-filled as change of heart was
He said that as the years went by the impact of the experienced lessened
While he would never forget it
He stayed strong in the faith by working on it every single day
We don’t need to look for spectacular miracles
Although God does provide them on occasion
We simply need to listen to Moses
the prophets, Jesus and the apostles
Our Blessed Mother
The saints
the holy people
and then put our faith into action
especially by helping those most in need
How can you help the Lazaruses in your life
The Prize Called A Reply
Here we are and the holidays
approaching!
I can vaguely hear the reindeer
bells in the air.
Kim Rodrigues started all this!
I don't know how she did it, but
indeed, she did.
I have a tiny ceramic tree already
lit sparkling right next to me.
Each reply can be a gift.
I mean when they come from our
heart.
I cannot tell you how happy I am
with one reply.
It's an acknowledgement that
another read you or me.
We live in this electronic age, some
type fast as planes, some not!
So remember that a human wrote
each poem.
Reply if you like any poem.
Do it out of love and compassion!
A touch of love, a dash of humility,
like the first snowfall.
Sweet and so silent.
A reply, blesses all here...
An artistic and most creative citizenry!
November 15, 2019
About me
I am somebody special
That was made
By my father
With his holy hands
A long time ago
And also along
Time ago
My father had
Placed me to live
Here on earth
I love living on earth
My beautiful life
Every single day
I care about
The way my friends
Love me
Also my friends
Are my family
I trust my friends
And I know that
There will be always
Around for me
Even when I am sick
I just don’t like
Being sick
I try to take good care
Of my health
Every single day
Also, was my father
That gave me the
Gift of health
I also never had
Ruin my health
I don’t smoke
At all friends
So I have healthy lungs
Also friends I never drunk
Any alcohol
Because that would destroy
My liver
Friends I also have
Healthy liver
I made a promise to me
That I will stay sober
Forever
Also friends I was born
A Christian
And I will also die
As a Christian
I am glad that
My friends have some
Respect for me
They respect my race
And religion
I am very happy about that
A professor of difficult sums
Who led a simple and useful life
Till he met Big Bertha from Beverley
And took her to be his wife.
It was a convention of difficult sums
On the logistics of long haul
Followed by a civic dinner
Down the road in Hull Guildhall.
The cabaret was wresting
Big Bertha the main bout
And she and the Professor met
When her opponent threw her out
To land on him four square, sending
Him consciouslessness to the floor.
He awoke in her arms and
Fell in love with what he saw,
A fine figure of a woman
In puce and purple leotard
The emotion was also mutual
As she fell for him equally hard.
Now he's the second in her corner
And she's champion of the North West
And he works at difficult sums
Two hours a week at best.
Theyve been on the TV
And there’s talk of the silver screen
And Big Bertha and her professor
Recognised wherever they're seen.
They've had butties at the palace
Cos Camilla’s a wrestling fan
Fascinated by the story of how
Big Bertha got her man.
It's the wrestling code she said
Of that there's little doubt
Three falls, two submissions
Or a single knockout.
Now they live a life of pleasure
Taking everything as it comes
And just to keep his hand in
He's teaching her difficult sums.
Between rounds shes in her corner
A look of ecstasy on her face
Contemplating quadratic equations
On the nature of time and space.
A professor of difficult sums
Who led a simple and useful life
Till he met Big Bertha from Beverley
And took her to be his wife.
Every family has them
These unsettling times these misunderstandings
Times when many things come into play
In most cases these wee spats are soon over and forgotten
But sometimes differences run deeper
Because of other factors
Such as jealousy, middle child syndrome personality
It's only human nature at play
The necessity for all to find our place
In the overall scheme of life
To establish one's self in the pecking order
And accepting it without malice, without jealousy
A hard lesson to learn when we're brand new at he game
Always suspecting that siblings
Are the ones receiving preferential treatment
In reality, they are reacting in exactly the same matter
Trying their best to learn the ropes
To understand what life means what life is all about
But we never do have all the answers
Even if we survive those uncertain early years
And live to the ripe old age of thirty
Well that is what old age is when you're a teenager
Please be assured, you WILL get through
And be a well adjusted adult
He sold penny whistles
From inside the little sack
Slung over one shoulder
And hanging down his back
And he filled them full of magic
So for one whole day
Anyone who bought one
Learned how to play
And he taught them to dance
And he taught them to sing
And he taught them jazz
And he taught them to swing
And each penny whistle knew
One hundred tunes and songs
So each whistle player
Never got a note wrong
And when they were happy
And had their timing right
He’d pick up his sack
And disappear into the night
And not one of them remembered
What they had seen
And not one of them remembered
That he’d ever been
But they kept the music
Though they didn’t understand
When or where or why or how
Each held a penny whistle in his hand
And he’d walk away unnoticed
Still carrying on his back
One million penny whistles
Loaded carefully in his sack
Once upon a time there were tiny habitants
Dwelling between the bloomed wild flowers
Waiting for the right human who free them
A heart of gold that unknowns the evilness
A girl named Tracey was playing in the forest
Daydreaming with a planet full of fantasies
Wishing to find something that breaks monotony
Finding the clue that would change her life forever
Subtle whisper called girl's attention to the woods
Curiosity made to lift with precaution a white rock
Small elf hugged Tracey's leg, pleading to be liberated
Wicked witch spelled a curse to the cute habitants
Tracey guessed the solution to resolve the evil spell
Love is the force that moves the world around forever
All elves returned to their original appearances
They were humans trapped in fantasy bodies for years
Twenty years later, Tracey walked again in the forest
A handsome young man, called her attention irresistibly
He was the charming elf she helped in her youngest years
Young knight proposed marriage to Tracey without hesitating
Fairytale wedding was celebrated with the forest as background
A story that started with love and finalized with the same feeling
The End
For Once Upon A Time Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
February 5, 2017
Thirteen Place