Long Timetime Poems

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


Forty-Five Minutes and I'M Way Ahead of You This Time.

Thirty minutes later. Two a.m. and I'm still here, I haven't forgotten......




Thirty minutes, tears are racing, creating clock hands that point to the edge of my chin,
trembling, my bones point only to the end and you, you're more than


thirty minutes late.



Screaming, I'm slashing my heart to bits, forty minutes now you've been screaming.


Forty minutes later, you've broken, me, I'm well aware of what happens to mothers..


postpartum...


and I paid for you, I paid for you for twenty-seven months and forty-five minutes


late


is only slightly too much for me to


bear.




You're not accepting this, your eyes are popping, Dear, there's blood dripping from your
glances and for


seventeen minutes and 17 days I've been twisting us into nothing while you've smiled at
me, I've been writing the truth that will shut you down...


you're illiterate, you're criss-crossing my statements into lies and my letters are
running from you...


they've been running for months now, back into my mouth to feel the safety of my tongue until


I kiss you


forty-five minutes


late.



Your steps are tick-tocking and Edger Allen Poe couldn't have saved us, underneath the
floorboards at night while I feel the insanity of time...


attack


what's left of me,


you're not doing this this time around, you're late and I'm trapped inside Tuesday, but
it's March now, Dear, and the years since we first kissed are counting themselves to four,
I'm serious about the edges that I've been sanding past midnight, I've saved the sawdust
for you


so you can eat the corners of me


next time your mouth opens, I've saved


myself


twenty-seven months


and thirty minutes


late


but I figure, as the words dance, frightened, on my tongue, at least I'm here


at least I'm thirty minutes ahead


of you.


The Door -2- the Return

The great Kings and Queens have now returned
to a time and a land so foreboding and spurned.
Since the time they had left what could have gone wrong?
For what had once been, all Narnia now longed.

Little did they know the adventure in store,
the reason they were called back through “the door”.
This castle so strong an army had attacked,
Narnia was passing from sight- this to them was fact.

But one was born to rule and restore all things,
a Tamarin prince who was meant to be king.
Young Caspian grew up amidst deception and lust,
hardly was there now a soul he could trust.

Circumstances threw these young ones together,
choices they made would seal Narnia’s fate forever.
Hatred for the past fuled the world of men,
they swore the land of Narnia would never rise again.

Prince Caspian and High King Peter led the fight
rallying Narnian creatures in the quest for the right.
And so both sides had at it till mighty Aslan appeared,
the coming of the great lion put down Narnia’s fears.

Now, a just king Caspian’s words were heeded,
King Peter and Queen Susan were no longer needed.
The young ones vanished from the sight of them all-
Edmund and Lucy would one day hear "the call".

So, a last look around as they step through “the door”,
a tree in the courtyard took them to “ another shore”.
They arrived the same spot, awaiting the train
but having been in Narnia, they’d never be the same.

***From the Disney- Walden Media movies based off the C. S. Lewis novels
      “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe” and “Prince Caspian”***
Form: Rhyme

For Every Sacrifice

For every sacrifice, there will be
a reward awaiting; a crown for a beauty,
a trophy for an athlete
whose forehead drips with sweat;
and a standing ovation
for all who firmly believe in peace and unification. 


For every smile you offer
to the homeless and beggar....
savoring the harshness of winter,
is a flame that can radiate heat;
quarters and dimes, or even a dollar
hasn't much value now days, but for them they do. 


For every thought you bring forth,
it must be expressed with a dignified intent;
no foul play planned to get vengeance and feel full,
think before you act, try to avoid a conflict...
fits of anger can ruin a good friendship,
find out the facts, and control your mood.


For every love and fortune you admire and wish to have,
you must merit it, and sometimes you need to take giants steps,
before anyone can see you reaping the joys that induced it;
what is given with a big heart, is returned in a thousand folds...
anything you deprive yourself of, to make that person happy and feel loved,
is a permanent imprint that time itself is unable to erase.


For every small victory won when hope seems faint,
there is a story worth writing on a battlefield which doesn't know calm;
and they restlessly keep on watching the starry shore until light awakens their ship;
their promise cannot be broken by the dreading fears outlasting the uncertain dawn...
for every sacrifice they make, brings serenity to their loved Motherland,
and their time is not wasted chasing after foolish things, but it extends beyond love.  
 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Reflections

REFLECTIONS

I looked into my mirror today,
And saw an old face watching me
He wasn’t there yesterday
But I never see the same face twice

There have been lots of them. 
Years ago with brown hair and clear eyes.
Features that spoke of youth
Portraying a sense of curiosity and yes, 
Even a sense of innocence. 

He left a long time ago
The space filled by someone older
The brown hair still in evidence
But with increasing hints of gray  

The face was familiar yet different
Lines where there had been none before
Eyes crinkling when he smiled
The once lean, tight  face  
Exhibiting the first signs of  age. 

You could sense that time had passed,
Experiences lived had had their impact on his being.
The innocence was gone
Replaced with signs of maturity.

He appeared comfortable with life
And the challenges it presented. 
Tomorrow carried untold possibilities
And he welcomed them. 

Then, he too was gone,
And now, another man,
The one that visits today.

The hair now mostly gray  
Eyes that speak of many roads traveled. 
The vitality once displayed is void
Replaced by quiet confidence. 

His face much more thoughtful now
Reflects the wisdom of time 
That life has deposited there
He has made peace with himself,
Accepting who he is

 I smile
 He smiles back. 
 I like him.
 I am happy with who I see.

Premium Member Time

We’re looking for more time
Though everyone is given
The same 24 hour amount
Each day that we are living

Your time spent is up to you
If wasted with worry and woe
Those precious moments of time
Slip away before you even know

So schedule your time wisely
But be prepared to rearrange
Because even scheduled time
Is always subject to change

Time brings changes in life
That is certainly meant to be
As each season shifts to another
God’s perfect timing in reality

Time is like little seeds of life
Planted deep in the winter’s cold
That grows beneath the surface
Until the spring begins to unfold

Try to fill your time with joy
While you’re here on this earth
Pull out the joy from deep inside
That is put in your heart at birth

Make time to share with others
Who need more time with you
Sharing happy times together
Radiating in everything you do

Don’t give your time to those
Wanting to take your time away
To use it all up for their own
Selfish and greedy ways

Let’s make every moment count
As time passed becomes a memory
That can only be captured in a photo
And relived in your mind indefinitely

Special times tend to quickly pass
But it’s not really about the amount
Don’t dwell upon the time you’ve lost
For it’s the quality time to count
 
Florence McMillian (Flo)
Form: Narrative


T.I.M.E

Displacement 
_______________  =  Velocity
    Time

An equation with little importance
A lesson taken in physics class
But, something the physics teacher said made deep thoughts emerge
He said: “TIME goes on and never stops”

Places are visited and memories are cherished
Pictures are taken and smiles are captured
Walls embrace stones of reminiscence
TIME passes by, wishes are made, and we are enraptured

Age secretly whips pieces of our memory
Eyes narrow to symbolize remembrance
Then, we believe those pieces are lost
And our good TIMES vanished

These are nothing but mere ploys
Played by our mind
For those memories are at the back of our heads
Ready to appear whenever you, dear reader, want

To me,
T ales tune temperate  
I dioms idealize indigenous innuendos
M ajestic mnemonics mollify memoirs   
E xistence ends, Eternity endures ecstasy

Remember, dear passenger, that you are the leader
Lead TIME to the pleasant manors 
Show TIME the warmth of what is within itself
Reveal the secret of importance to every second in TIME…  

“Time is like a river. You can not touch the same water twice, because the flow that has 
passed will never pass again. Enjoy every moment in life…” –Anonymous
© Sara Zahed  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Time

We live in time and empty space,
Always trying to hold our place;
From birth to death we try to find,
Ways to heal a troubled mind.

I am naught and you are all,
You are grand and I am small;
Yet time remains with joy and sorrow,
Hovering between today and tomorrow.

A time to work, a time to play,
Time to greet another day;
Needing to touch the earth and sky,
To know the answer to the question why.

Time to love spring, time to love fall,
If I had to choose, I'd take them all;
For spring brings life with birds that nest,
And autumn brings a soft season of rest.

Time to feel joy, time to feel pain,
To touch all we feel all over again;
For joy brings life and happy laughter,
And pain brings tears and often anger.

Time to climb with stilts to Mars,
To play in the blue with all the stars;
Skipping through sky's Milky Way,
While others sleep and others play.

A time to rise and a time to fall,
A space to feel nothing at all;
For time touches all that is real,
And nothing at all is what time tries to steal.

A time to be born, and a time to die,
A time to laugh, and a time to cry;
For the young at heart have lives to live,
And the grey haired old have lives to give.
Form: Ballad

Premium Member The Key

Since my birth time has been pesent, fluid, tapping its flat feet in the shadows
Clueless was I as to its definition, or what its relevance was to life
Yet, I recall the joy of rainy days free of grown- up worry and strife
Being quite shy, I'd daydream; gazing blue skies and hanging out windows

Then suddenly, I turned and things changed!  And I came to face the culprit 
Time! It made me abandon my childhood; I was forced to leave behind my toys
Only Christmas celebrations and story books seem to bring me endless joy!
How I'd brood over doing homework of subjects I found non-descript!

In hindsight, all life meets Time on its terms, as it is, "The Ageless Wonder"!
Forever moving; impervious to class or stature; faster now, and I'm in a daze!
A consummate stalker it is, yet, leaving definite trails on each face!
'Is Time charged to monitor dreams'?  Is a question I often ponder

I imagine, at creation Time stood as the key which opens and shuts all doors!
Seemingly built into all God's creatures maintaining order and strictest balance 
Time was and has been a true instrument of God’s awesome power and prevalence
In a world where egos are gigantic and many want their share and more

Echo...

"...you have one duck... I saw it."
"no crickets, but yes, the sound"

~I have some fish, swimming around...

Who are you? And where do you be?
As I walk this forest, how do you, see me?
A cricket's sound, some fish around,
But you and you lost to my sea.
Why, do you two follow me?

An open door, extended before,
A hand, a smile, I waited awhile, with
hopes and maybe some fantasy.
I hoped you woulda, woulda hit on me.
But in retro, I did so see...

My time of past, dyes deep and fast,
a flow, a hum, my life was numb.
In a time of change, I rearranged,
the elements of my being.
I changed, to my Me Becoming.
And I stopped in my tracks,
while in my running.

Hanging there was Venus dear,
A photo I gave you, from above.
The Sun ablaze, the Moon amazed,
while I heard your Heart. My love...

But questioned I when you raised an I,
and you didn't reply to my song?
I sang again! And I glared at you then,
but you turned, as though I were wrong?
A butterfly, a kiss by your eye... and yet,
I still wonder why your park is gone.
And the Indian Sang, but you heard no song?

~Know. The journey is Long...
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Thinking

In the absence of imagination 
I have been devoid of inspiration. 
Caught in life's cog of constant 
activity and no time to think. 

I pause a while and ponder the past. 
This is a time of reflection. 
Today I stopped, but so much has 
passed me by.  I wonder why it is so? 

Where does the time go? How can we know 
if we are right or wrong in our choices? 
Is the voice of intuition always right; 
speaking so loudly, yet always out of sight. 

The concept of time is a strange one. 
The concept of life stranger still! 
Gamboling down slopes of happiness 
then trudging up another hill. 

Strange how in the memory the good 
always prevails. Strange that hurt can 
fade as rainbows; prisms of perfection 
in only stormy skies. Now I think of 

the 'weather' of existence; 
times of icy misery; foggy thoughts, 
sunny hope; snow covered mountains of uncertainty; 
the summer serenity of sureness so seldom seen.   

And here we are approaching winter again. 
Where did the seasons go?  I missed them; 
always busy,imagination absent, caught in life's' 
cog of activity and no time to think.

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