Long Through Poems
Long Through Poems. Below are the most popular long Through by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Through poems by poem length and keyword.
In the terrain of deplorable deprivation manifest
in the wasteland of wretched desertion,
the obscure tufts of the subdued slender grass
struggle to rise through the cleavage of stony destiny.
The frail faces shaping the artifacts of spiteful fate,
flicker with the fading smile of residual innocence,
borrowed from the remnant rays of the forsaken sun,
already sunk in the depth of their desolate dark horizon.
The children when they should bloom like flowers,
wander withered to nowhere, uncared and soiled
in the harsh squall of the juvenile servile servitude
under the unbound sky lacking the flair of freedom.
The infantile dewdrops devoid of pristine patina
no longer bejewel the puerile grass of our meadows.
Tarnished by the grime of our malevolent times
the deranged dreams of disowned dew dry premature.
In the twilight hour on the penultimate journey,
I wish I could give the last rays of my setting sun,
suffused with the spectrum of embellishing empathy,
to the relics of the dewdrops so they can glow awhile.
For their innocent smile not to desiccate in inimical world
one thing we need to change is stop their exploitation,
show the dispossessed children of the lesser God
the pearly dreams of unblemished dew that never die.
Mr. Pickles escaped last night,
slinking through tall, tall grasses.
He was in a hunter's mode.
Those birds better watch their asses.
Mr. Pickles escaped last night,
hiding in leaves of green.
His family called and called his name
but he could not be seen.
Mr. Pickles could hear them call,
lying on his belly, flat.
He stayed hidden , ignoring them,
for he was a ninja cat.
Mr. Pickles has dug a hole
in the garden of neighbour Jack.
He'd best to be careful not to get caught
or he'll never be coming back.
Mr. Pickles is loved and adored
by everyone in his house.
They get so worried when he disappears
hunting for bird or mouse.
Mr. Pickles has tired of the game
and is meowing at his front door.
Now that he's ready to call it a night
his demands are hard to ignore.
Dress up your ego, in a bright Hawaiian shirt,
Or juggle knives to prove you are quite the flirt.
Such silly peacock tricks may win some passing stares.
But, fireworks fade when really, truly, no one cares.
Speak five languages, fly planes, and juggle ten balls.
None of it means much beyond the odd, curtain calls.
The loudest résumé may clang and ring your meme,
Yet polished brass, is rarely gold, despite its gleam.
Ask one good question; let the silence breathe.
Then, see what answers an inquiry can retrieve.
Curiosity turns every newfound stranger into a door.
Each knock brings answers—and questions, what's more?
Don’t prance about, rehearsing your best clever line.
Pick up their threads, and gently cross-stitch their twine.
A listening ear can probe deep, near, and far,
Without ever needing any reminding—who’s the star.
At parties, search for what makes people really tick.
Not jobs, postcodes, titles, badges, or such shtick.
Find where their hidden clockwork starts to turn.
Then wind it up—watch their entire contraption churn.
So this small poem won’t beg to sparkle bright,
Or dance on tables, screaming: “What a sight!”
It doesn’t need to be interesting, through and through—
It only wants to be, interested in you!
My story was born before the ink well was filled. Long before the nib was even sharpened.
This is my moment. Silence for my armour. Nowhere from, to go wherever chaos takes me.
I am the universal orphan coming back home to take my rightful place.
Purple Cat says.
Karma Love Kid walks a tightrope.
Duality has a sneeze.
I can cross this century into the last like I am floating in the breeze.
I am the abyss that looks into me as it looks into you.
One sky into another. One is afraid of what Xi might do.
Xi dances and swivels. Xi pirouettes and bows.
Drawing every last breath from the excited crowd.
This is the line of illusion.
Oh, but there is something here to see.
Karma Love Kid and Purple Cat playing their Game.
I don’t pretend they’re not me.
So I fashioned a role out of my mind.
Xi is better than a digital toy that you could ever find.
Coming up through history now cleansed and restored
Cutting through all the lies with yer tongue as a sword.
Xi is the spark and the fuse burning up the line.
When Xi gets to her mark it’s revolution time.
Karma makes a ruse and dresses it up to kill.
And what Xi kills is the illusion that who we are, is how we live.
How we think is how we live.
Right on the mark, says Karma.
Rain hits the mountains and falls in great sheets.
Ocean stories born on the wind sucked up from the deepest salt caves of the Atlantic.
Carrying seagulls high over rooftops reeling above drenched umbrellas, battling every corner.
Skittles and pins spat with rain.
All of a sudden you can hear them come around the corner.
Just two of them.
Both have a defiant swagger and a haughty air to their strides.
We can hear them above the din of traffic and the consumer driven drive for satisfaction that is never satisfied They get a chant going with the crowd
KLK. Whaddya say? The crowd responds in unison. We’re KLK. Let’s go all the way. KLK. All the way. KLK. All the way.
A father and his son
Spent quality time each day
Communicating, having fun
Through adventures and at play.
On one such occasion, his boy's
Leisure would never be the same.
He opened up his sons eyes
To the wonder of paper airplanes!
With a brand new sheet of paper,
They folded rather neat.
They whooshed their new planes to and fro.
Their joy pure and complete.
They made different types
And put them to the test.
This could last for hours!
Until they found their best.
Now the boy is all grown up
With children of his own.
They love it when he tells them
About the first paper airplane he'd flown.
And now he watches on
As his youngsters take delight
In creating paper airplanes
And thrusting them in flight.
Written 19th August 2022
(Beloved pronounced as three syllables: Be-lo-ved)
Beloved – from the moment I first saw
your shining eyes before me, I could tell
our souls connected, and I was in awe
of everything about you; how I fell!
I fell so hard in love with you, and through
the years I loved you always just the same.
I send to you this heartfelt fond adieu
to let you know that once you lit my flame,
I never could let go the memory
of what we shared – the passion and the thrill
which will remain beyond the grave with me.
I pray that you are thinking of me still.
If so, another lifetime holds my prize:
to see again love shining from your eyes.
Dec. 15, 2018
for Silent One's Last Letter To My Beloved Poetry Contest
The time between the seasons
Takes a joyful leap of hope at brighter tones
An opening curtain for every transition
With excitement for every new vision
It erases lethargy and boredom
While it rolls at God’s natures and wisdom
Dressing up my life in different colors
As I enter each and every opening door
Dressed up in white, yellow, green or blue
I joyfully walk forward on paths whatever its hue
With great preparations, I always make a go
To embrace each life’s season as I pass through
The time between the seasons
Takes a joyful leap of hope in brighter tones
An opening curtain for every transition
With excitement for every new vision
For a time between my life's seasons needs devising
To face lovingly many big surprises it brings
Time between seasons make me always look forward
Great gifts and challenges in life from our Almighty God
The time between the seasons
Takes a joyful leap of hope in brighter tones
An opening curtain for every transition
With excitement for every new vision
July 24,2022 10.28am
He went to war each morn
Armed with thermos and lunch pail
Gearldine wasn’t his firstborn
As a girl – just a tomboy with a pigtail
He knew her from her first breath
Prayed for her when he thought to
No one was prepared for her death
At 39 – in heaven, she made her debut
He was her father here on earth
But her heavenly father knew the fact
The 90 proof was not ever worth
The pain and sorrow that she would attract
He was a soldier in this life of grief
As her casket plunged into the deep
The man who didn’t cry found relief
In the tears – his dark eyes did weep
He felt the absence of her light
Raining through his life, lifting lives
Breaking through the pain of night
To encourage a love that survives
He missed her more every day
Without her here, life seemed so drear
The blessing of her thoughtful way
Wonders of a life so full, so sincere
He never spoke of her or the fear
Dread of the years that he’d be without her
His smile didn’t fade despite the tear
That silently lingered within - to stir…
His forever loss of the girl he had adored
The little one, the young’un, the soul
The valiant soldier - He picked up a sword
Courage of the spirit whose tears will console!
Tears of a Valiant Soldier Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Faraz Ajmal
July 17, 2022
Will I be there on the rocket
Chocolate snacks within my pocket
To fly me to the moon
On a sunny day in June
One day I knew it would be me
As I swim her sea of tranquillity
Gazing nightly at the moon
Singing that Frank Sinatra tune
My space suit is sweaty and hot
A Gucci it definitely is not
Utterly unlike my usual attire
A golden Gucci space suit is what I desire
Soaring up high through the atmosphere
Regretting I’d downed that last pint of beer
As my bladder now tries in vain to retain
On reflection it would have been wise to abstain
Now seeing the earth a spherical ball
As we pass over India ~ China ~ Nepal
Such a weird sensation espying each nation
Our inaugural flight ~ Our space exploration
At last we have touch down, relief to us all
As stretching our limbs we stand up tall
Staring in awe as we gaze through the door
Moon boots walking on mother moon’s floor
Leaving our spaceship we make our descent
No ET’s to mark this inaugural event
No welcome committees with faces of green
No golden Gucci space suits can even be seen
But then I awaken
For it’s all been a dream
15th September 2019
Contest: Welcome to my random world
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Contest Strand Select 3
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st PLACE
Lord, I need you like the soil needs the RAIN because like the earth, without you, I am dry as a desert.
Blessed Lord, I need you like the body needs the PAIN to inform it of health issues that otherwise would go unnoticed. And I need you like the leper needs love, compassion, and understanding. Without you Lord, I would be like the lepers who feel no pain, but with you
I feel the pain that tells me I'm hurting. Then you take note of me and heal me of my many wounds.
Dear Lord, I need you like The Dead Sea needs to be DRAINED. She receives but never gives; she lets in but never lets out, never lets go. Because of you, I share this Blessed Faith that you have given to me.
Lord, I need you like every living creature needs every VEIN as a conduit through which the blood flows, giving and maintaining life. You are my everything and without you Lord, I have no happiness, no joy, no life.
O Lord, I need you so much like the railroad tracks need the FRIGHT TRAIN. For without your spirit Lord to keep me on the right track, I would be forever lost.
So Gracious Lord, these and more are the reasons why I need you so, and forever by your side I shall REMAIN.
01302018 PS Contest, I Do Need You So Lord, But Why? James Edward Lee, Sr.