Long Those Poems

Long Those Poems. Below are the most popular long Those by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Those poems by poem length and keyword.


Life Is a Journey With Many Doors We Must Open

Life is a journey that is anything but turnkey
Full of many doors that we must open 
As we find our way through another day
There are so many doors to choose from 
Before all the opportunities
Will just flee or get by me

So we have to try to always reach for the sky 
Turning all of life's opportunities on high
We have to let some pass us by 
For every new door that opens 
We need to test the waters 
As they come ashore

We must not ignore what makes us soar
Before the next door closes
We need not worry or get in a hurry
About all the doors that are so blurry
For every new door that brings opportunity
Should allow us to foresee
 
Which are key for us to agree 
Moving forward before the next door closes
We have to let go of those doors 
That brings the doubt without clout
That turns our world all about

Making us want to shout
Why we figure out
Why we all stumble and fumble 
Surely these are the doors that we must close
Because everybody knows it all makes us grow
 
Into the person, we have come to know
So take it nice and slow
And just find the right flow
Life is what you make it
So don't fake it
Or break it
But rather 
Make it your own
Form: Rhyme


An Obituary for Francois Mitterrand

I was a schoolgirl then, in nineties
Braided hair and full-blown inundation of dreams
Yes. They still are strumming these to stack those feelings, intact
As an old page of a novella still wash the eyelashes, with nothing too showy in fact!
These often get teardrops whence a day is overpouring with drizzle out there, somewhere.
Dreams and all about dreams, they do come home, with no specific stanza in Rome, still try to spare
A Sonnet, a tire, attire or a screw, handheld too!
For days too long ago, they jump into play, they surely do!
I never thought about me, a glass covered VIP will be anyhow a mentionable from a perceiving crowd!
Yet, I felt I lit up for the Marie, that did mention the good name, for so many ways, in his legend to be proud!
Did he or did I that played on the height of a pin, I never felt that is a fair way to say, anyhow, anyway
May they feel the bliss that got the receiving crowd into a French braid that received the sunlight, years ago, per say!
How a president, a visiting one, will be the one to cherish the momentum of simple one, 
the grace, the Carpediem, the lone star and the lonely synapse of memory that does play in the half-lit room, in tune!

There Was a Time

There was a time when families stayed and stuck together
Now it's like no one really knows each other
There was a time that children by themselves could walk to the store
In this time they go missing 
so alone no more
There was a time when drugs were mostly weed
Now they are mixing poisons pill popping and killing the feinds
There was a time when TV's were off at ten
Now the TV channels never end
There was a time when neighbors were really your friend
Not you have to watch your own back again
There was a time when you saw street lights and 
most of the children would be in
Now the new parents are scared to discipline
There was a time when every Sunday 
Meant over Grandma's and cooking a big family dinner
The grandmas are out more so that seems to have ended
There was a time when children were always playing outside 
Now they have the video games that keep them inside
There was a time when we all had pagers
Stopping by a phone booth to call back
Now they have cellular phones that have eliminated that
There was a time when you had privacy inside of your home
Social media and attention become the new throne
There was a time
Those used to be the days
Welcome to 2018 we are in the New Age

The Realm of Rhyme and Rhythm

Ooh I'm in love with poems that rhyme
Poems enrapture by their tuneful chime.

Ah hickory dickory dock
It's fun to see poems roll n rock.

Poems with a merry, cheery catchy tune
whisk me into that classic poetic boon

Poems embroidered with melody
send me forth into rhapsody

Just try your voicebox at a sing-a-long
and watch a poem go ping pong, ding dong.

Ah, it's poems with a funky beat
that are to me such a poetic treat
They are the ones that have 
swept me off my feet.

Bouncy rhythms in rhyming verse
could be enjoyed even if they be a rant or terse.

I enjoy poems which bear those vivid rich tones
they'd even make ringtones for my cell-phones.

Poetic stanzas that have excellent symmetry
are my weakness in the realm of poetry.

Admirable is a well-structured rhyme scheme
provided you don't upset or stray from your theme.

Even silly nonsense rhymes give me a reader's thrill and fun
but meaninful rhyming ones
are ofcourse a bonus
as they make a two-in -one.

Ah poems with an astute rhythmic flow
are the ones for which you can take a bow
For no Dinars, dirhams or dime
do I sell my rhythm and buy your rhyme.

If you rhyme and write in meter
you can be sure I'll be your reader.
HAPPY RHYMING, CHIMING. 
And jingle bells sing ring.
Form: Rhyme

A Sestina on old growth forests

Old growth forests are a sight to behold             
 Humans wiping them out makes me angry
 Politicos who support this can go to Hell             
 Angel Oaks,giant cedars and Redwoods              
 These are some of my favoured trees,  I say                   
 General Sherman -a most ancient tree                 

Angel Oak boughs are coiled ,I love this tree
All the ancient trees ;divine  to behold
Lay my ashes neath an Oak tree  I say
Clear cut forrests they made me quite angry
Giant cedars ,grand -behold the Redwoods
 Those who wreck  ancient forests go to Hell

Ancient forests wrecked I'm angry as Hell
The huge red oak is one hell of a tree
Other beatific trees are the Redwoods
Angrboda ‘s tree -lovely to behold
Cutting these trees down-I'm bloody angry
Politicos should pay a price: I say

Old growth forests are a biome,  I say
Those who destroy them are stupid as Hell
 Lay waist to old growth forests?-I'm angry
 I sat still under a huge cedar tree
 Hike thru these forests a sight to behold
I wonder what critters live in Redwoods

I wish I can visit the grand Redwoods
 I'm wheelchair bound  do not know what to say
Walked thru a small old growth woods nice to behold
The woods were denuded of old trees,oh Hell
  Old growth Cedars are one hell of a tree
 Most of the old growth gone makes me angry

Logging roads in BC grave ,I’m angry 
Love to muse beneath a pair of Redwoods
What type of vibe will I get from that tree?
 Protest the harm of old growth woods; I say
 If you don’t  help out ,I'm angry as Hell
 Clear  cut woods from a plane -shock to behold

Envoi:
Burn  old growth woods angry I say
 Stop logging Redwoods ,no,oh Hell
  An Angel oak tree I want to behold
Form: Sestina


Premium Member I Shall Remember

Those days were filled
With joy and singing.
Because of that;
My present days are now worth living
And smiling through.

Remember during a storm,
We've seen a rainbow
Through a window
That was part of a room
Where we pretended to have feathers
And danced around an invisible fire.

Bonds are like a rainbow;
The happiness that was shared
Eventually fades away.
Though such a bond is gone,
Another rainy day goes by
And the rainbow appears again.

So now... I'll always remember
That life is like a sea
(An ocean of memories)....
And even though "friend" has
The word "end"...
There is a "ship" in "friendship"
(Which leaves and returns).
I shall always remember such a metaphor...

Premium Member Being a Child Again

Today we went for a country walk
Ended up in the children’s park
Tempted by the dangling swings
Soon we were swinging high doing our thing
Freedom to go back to childhood ways
How I remember those halcyon days
When we didn’t have a care in the world
And we were free to fly as high as a bird

Then I spied the water driven merry go round
Jumped on one of the horses a few inches off the ground
Round and round the horse went at a leisurely pace
I sat back and had a massive grin upon my face
Gushing water; which makes the wheel go round
Bought back so many memories it is an awesome sound
Freedom to think back to many a happy day
When my son was little and I’d take him there to play

The final treat for me was a little motorbike on a spring
Sitting there rocking to and fro it made my heart sing
Memories of a time we went on an early date
I still have a photo oh gosh I looked so great
My hair was blonde and curly I wore a top in pink
Today I was a child at heart whatever others may think
I look back and see I haven’t changed a lot
And I cherish all the memories I have got

Jan Allison
29th June 2014
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Shakespeare In 2023

I, Shakespeare, the greatest name in Literature. Like Rumpelstiltskin, have woken up in a world better worth living in life. 

Smart strange fashion of cloths that flatter and others so short unbecoming a mistress or sir, a look at etiquette and behavior.

 I am honored to be in a world of high towering structures, made out of concrete, brick, and asphalt.

Motorize machines of steel and tire, transport they call buses, cars, and serpents those gents call trains.  Passing, they stop, start like cattle as lights flash green, yellow, and stop on red. Silver dragons they call planes, fly through the cloud fill sky between heavens and earth. 

Beds so soft to curl up and sleep as easily on a pile of hay.

A box called a television, a family point of evenings’ entertainment or the spread of poison. I have seen among them; time is short and should not be wasted.

1/13/2023

Shakespeare in 2023 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Diocletian persecution of Manichaeans

Vanished in death’s flames with Mani’s scriptures of life 
Banished to mine for grey-white marble to fulfil Rome’s plan 
Punished to mine in Phaeno, or die by Rome’s knife 
Unvanquished through the endurance of the First Man 

Valiantly working in marble mines, they now rest on diamond roads of light 
Patently, those burned souls became our sweet remembrance and frankincense
Rampantly, inflamed Diocletian tried and failed to steal their pearls of pure white 
Brilliantly, Mani’s burned medicine became our sweet myrrh incense


Poem about the Roman Emperor Diocletian's (284–305 AD) persecution of Manichaeans, which later extended to Christians. This is in honour of those persecuted.
Form: Lento

Premium Member Customer Services

I so hate my job on ‘Customer Services’
People keep bringing stuff back
“This doesn’t work.”
“This isn’t right.”
“This was supposed to be black.”

And then in my break I checked the newspaper
To see what there was in the news
Just Harry and Meghan in some Netflix caper
God, those two give me the blues

But wait! Who was this, my fairy godmother?
She said, “I will make your wish so.”
I did have to wish for something or other
So lottery numbers I said I must know

She thought for a moment and said, “It shall be.”
And then I was rich, my dream had come true
My every desire was right there for me
Customers services? Not me, I’m through

But then she was back; was it double or quits?
She said, “I’ve a trade for you, Dear,
if you should relinquish last night’s winning tickets
then Harry and Meghan will both disappear.”

I gave it some thought, I pondered all day
For I’m sick of him and of her
There’s just one thing left that I need to say…
“How can I help you, Sir?”
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace