Long Times Poems
Long Times Poems. Below are the most popular long Times by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Times poems by poem length and keyword.
Eighty-eight is the number of keys in a standard piano.
In every key is a different sound that races.
Get high with God as you pluck each key.
Heavens above will rejoice when you sing
with your notes of praises.
Three times the number of alphabets
plus your ten fingers make up the eighty-eight.
Your soul soars when you make others smile
with pieces of eighty-eight.
Eighty-eight is still the number to remember
If you want to sing and dance forever.
Great songs and masterpieces will always survive
Hit any note and spirits will come alive.
Thank God for the melodies that made the music
of your life.
Mom, your love is a mystery:
How can you do it all?
Mother is such a simple word,
But to me there’s meaning seldom heard.
For everything I am today,
My mother’s love showed me the way.
You are the Thunder and I am Lightning
And I Love the Way You, Know Who You are to me
Cause Mom You are a firework
My Moon in times of darkness
My Sun in times of my happy hours
My pillow in times of sorrow
And My strength In Times Of Great Depression
How Can You Do It All?
My World, My Forever What will I Have Been
Without Such Pure Love
Like The Moon In Someone’s Sky
You Show Me The Way to life
With your loving and slivering light
you shine like and angel
And I Thank heaven for the grace of having such a mother
Which paths are wise and life is true
You are my sunshine
I’ll love my mother all my days,
For enriching my life in so many ways.
She set me straight and then set me free,
And that’s what the word ‘mother’ means to me.
Mom, I wish I had words engraved in the clouds
to tell How much you mean to me.
I am the person I am today,
Because you let me be.
Your unconditional love
Made me happy, strong, and secure.
In all the world, there is no mother
Better than my own.
You’re the best and wisest person, Mom
I have ever known.
Like the stars talks with no words
your wisdom Enlightened me
And Forever the angels will sing hallelujah
For they Woe to have someone like you
Just coz you're taken and I'm taken,
Don't lemme limit my love for you.
You're adored for who you're,
and that's enough but I guess you don't have a clue.
It's amazing how much we can give and receive within our boundaries
But guess no one ever chooses to take a preview
At times, your wisdom is something I can't withstand
Wisdom to an extent that you would often understand and choose to say, "I don't understand"
You've confused me more than anyone ever could-
One moment, your rudeness pushes me away,
Another moment, your generosity melts me away.
One moment, I would give up,
Another moment, I just give in.
It's your patience that drives me crazy,
Boils me in anger;
Then it's your patience that melts roaring clouds into hues of amber.
It's your patience that tests my limits,
Then it's your patience that has extended my limits...
It took me courage to be vulnerable,
Fear of rejection, fear of 'No's', fear of being turned down,
Fear of it not working out,
Fear of shame, fear of not being the best,
Fear of my mind being at someone's behest.
But when I overcame all of this fear,
I did find a world beyond-
A world of joy,
A world of love,
A world of wholeheartedness,
A world of kindness,
A fearless world free of regrets.
Just coz you can't get the right words to express,
Just coz you don't want your heart to be seen,
Just coz you've settled with calling it 'feelings unseen',
Just coz you have chosen to appear as not having minutest of clue,
Don't lemme limit my love for you
For their own good and for the good of society.
They used to put the mentally unstable away.
Society evolved; they closed the asylums.
Releasing the unstable into society.
Now we've got tent cities brimming with instability.
These are strange and sensitive times...people.
Society was much happier when it was light-hearted and high.
But eventually somebody had to go back to work.
Back in the day, people were somewhat genuine.
Now its all-saccharine grins and plastic handshakes.
If you don't stay within the ever-changing lanes, they'll hamstring your life.
You've still got your soul
but your soul never put food on the table.
As I look back, my love, I see smoke not the ashes
And finally I come to see the truth
Just as we are we were made, by our hearts and so we
paved the roads that built our Rome
Like a gust of fresh air,
you're my spring tide,
foreverness,
my eternal constant love
Years seemed so kind, just as sands of the oceans
Like beggars we've stolen times grandiose
Sailing through tears, leaving sorrow and fear
we chartered to see our hopes renewed
Like a gust of fresh air,
you're my spring tide,
foreverness,
my eternal constant love
The world was our carpet, the heavens our comfort
How high could our union spread its wings
Yet it's hard to believe, where there were two now lives emptiness,
A world without you is just plain despair
Yet... Like a gust of fresh air,
you're my spring tide,
foreverness,
my eternal constant love
Outside my window lives a chickadee,
he loves snowy green pine,
and has a family of about twenty-three;
he loves the snow and falling snowflakes divine,
and each morning the whole family sings for me.
Sometimes they scatter on clamous whirling wings,
off to a park nearby,
my heart is sad for their songs are like violins;
then, the beat of their wild swirling wings multiply,
they have brought home many, many friends I sigh.
On warmer days I bring them some seeds,
I put the seeds on my hand,
and am always in awe with their fluttering speeds;
I love each created by God delicate painted band
helping the birds helps me to grow and transcend.
They huddle together when it is very cold,
at times they lift a foot,
I think God not only gave them beauty but a soul;
each morning I must go to my window to have a look
I find them twittering, and tweeting in a clamor bruit.
It’s a common misconception that freedom just appears
Bringing with it peace and love, the rights that we hold dear.
But anyone will tell you who has studied history,
Most times you must fight for peace… and freedom isn’t free!
Freedom isn’t free.
Freedom has a cost.
We must pay the price
Or freedom will be lost.
Thank God for those who serve,
Who fight for you and me.
It doesn’t matter what you might believe,
Freedom isn’t free.
The world is full of bullies, there are those who only take.
Who think their might makes them right. Who cannot build, just break.
It’s hard to do what’s right and to act heroically.
But stand up and be counted… for freedom isn’t free!
Freedom isn’t free.
Freedom has a cost.
We must pay the price
Or freedom will be lost.
Thank God for those who serve,
Who fight for you and me.
It doesn’t matter what you might believe,
Freedom isn’t free.
It’s true the world’s imperfect, until He comes again,
And we become one family, each enemy a friend.
But until His appearance, when His glory we will see,
We must be ever vigilant… for freedom isn’t free!
Freedom isn’t free.
Freedom has a cost.
We must pay the price
Or freedom will be lost.
Thank God for those who serve,
Who fight for you and me.
It doesn’t matter what you might believe,
Freedom isn’t free.
A Scientifically Religious Experience
While I sit in church my mind begins to wonder
It passes by the alter through the walls
Then reaches at great speed to cosmic places
Not yet charted on the map of time
Accelerated ten times faster than a light
My thoughts go out there where they belong
I cannot afford to buy or operate a space craft at this time
My mind will have to do
Three layers cover the oval silver ship
The outer one deflects particles and radiation
It breaks down, collapses, after penetrating
The first five universes along the way
The second shield consists of electron and antimatter elements
To neutralize the effects of mounting speeds as I proceed
Through stars, quasars, and colors multi-matter
The last layer of protection on my simple ship
Is made of elemental particles that holds it all together
Keeps us from shrinking into the void
Into the past to find real history
As speeds just keep increasing
It is no mystery
I have to get back to my original position
Finding it might be a task
Will I still be there in church when I return
Or will it be the past?
...But times did change, the great drives stopped,
the state came and blew up the rock,
some though that Joe would now pass on,
but he still showed up on dark nights,
and his face was such a sad sight,
a ghost depressed, his one last purpose gone.
For decades the dead man looked blue,
what kept him here, nobody knew,
and he soon passed into folklore,
people forgetting more and more,
appearances grew ever rare,
most didn’t know that he was there,
and Joe was shadowed by despair,
a soul driven half-mad.
It was October when we heard,
great rains had flooded the river,
steams swollen up by a hurricane,
trees by the shore came crashing down,
the water lapped the streets of town,
and great trunks came a-racing down again.
A blue hatchback was swept away,
it came near Joe, and there did stay,
he appeared, and then looked inside,
and saw a child, barely five,
her parents were still on the shore,
mom screamed in panic, waved, implored,
the child screamed back in horror,
no help was to be had.
Joe panicked, as he was a ghost,
which made him more useless than most,
his hands would pass right through the car,
so he cried out to God for help,
and heard the terrified girl yell,
nobody could come help, they were too far.
So he tried to reach for the latch,
and, stunned, felt metal touch his grasp,
the girl looked up, shock in her eyes
at seeing ghostly figures fly,
but Joe grabbed her within his arms,
said soft words to cool her alarm,
and floated that girl clear of harm,
to a stunned mom and dad.
Amidst that hellish overcast
a single beam of light did flash,
turning Joe to a golden sheen,
he smiled and began to face,
the Man has mysterious ways,
but finally Joe would know Heaven’s scene.
A dozen people saw all this,
on it many still reminisce,
the lost river-driver’s story…
in death the man found true glory.
They built a statue in the square,
and people will leave wool shirts there,
of their hero they take great care,
and to this day will brag.
My Endless Crying
By Hakeem Omer
My endless crying—
I don’t know where to start.
From a present full of pain and fleeting joy,
From a past darkened by too much sorrow.
A few spots of light,
Moments of happiness—
They disappeared in the ocean of my sadness.
Remembering them makes me smile.
Back when I still knew how to smile,
Before I sank into the hardship of life.
Many times, I want to cry.
Sometimes, I want to scream aloud.
But then I remember the voices from the past:
They used to say it’s shameful for a man to cry.
They used to say men do not cry.
But I say that’s a lie—
No one cries as hard as men cry.
No one cries as much as men cry.
We cannot cry publicly.
We must hide our tears.
Men are good at hiding their pain and tears.
They are told to remain strong.
But they cry when they are alone.
Their tears are too precious to be seen.
If only the walls could talk.
If only the eyes of men could speak.
If only their tears could tell their story.
If only the pillows on their beds could whisper—
They would say how much men cry in the dark.
Is it my fate to cry forever?
Is it my destiny that every path I take ends in pain?
Or is it my mischief on earth, and this is my punishment?
I care no more.
Whatever is meant to be—let it be.
Let the angel of death land in my world.
Let them take my soul.
Let them end this endless sadness.
Let my eyes rest and shed no more tears.
Let my heart grieve no more.
Let my sorrow come to an end.
Let people in this world care for their loved ones.
They should know—men cry when they are alone.
They need someone to wipe their tears.
They need love…
Not to die alone.
Die alone…