Long Todays Poems
Long Todays Poems. Below are the most popular long Todays by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Todays poems by poem length and keyword.
Shakespeare – for fun - Part One
To Be – in hell, to be able to understand Elizabethan vocabulary,
Or Not To BE – able to speak in that tongue, to penetrate Hell.
THAT IS THE QUESTION – Can Elizabethan’s Hell, her todays
come in colours ?, by this talking tongue, by hand or by a thoughtful,
dedicated upright man, who stands up, to do the very best he can
to bring your hell, those fires, passions, in every – in all ways
to the heights of delight every Hell would love to know, to tell of
until the day Hell’s fires burn out – all thought of are to burry
as memories become the ships that will ferry
all these experiences into a black hole abyss
where all will go and those who used to know, no longer miss.
To be - the fire !
Or Not To BE – the flame ?
THAT IS THE QUESTION - that will remain.
These thoughts of, – thought was a friend,
died long ago – in my thoughts to the end.
B. J. “A” 2
August 28th 2004
Shakespeare – for fun - Part Two
To Be – all that comes into hells gate.
Or Not To BE – trying to re-enter our fate,
THAT IS THE QUESTION – so what can one state ?
Down life’s many roads I have been – this man of age.
Many adventures I’ve seen – these hands turned many a page
yet these lips still want to french kiss the lips of Hell’s door.
Instead, alone in my room – music, books, movies, nothing more.
Cathartic - black inked words, upon bleached white paper - my fate,
expressed desire, my taste buds to savour, penetrating Hell’s gate,
reaching in , drink that pure nectar, suck sweet moisture from its well.
Life of youth - not youthfulness – gone, are the hopes, dreams and desires
of this aging, old man, daydreaming of days, a time to rekindle the fires.
This old man wants nothing more, than to be as before, erect standing tall.
That is desire, but unfortunately, fate doth require, one to take that fall.
The problem being, times destruction, keeps the desired at bay
and that beauty, once desired, has all but faded away.
B. J. “A” 2
August 30th 2004
Four empty years
- Filled With –
Four life times have slipped away.
Left, this barren, a broken plane
remaining in the throes, locked in,
great moments, in memories hoard.
where all of one’s life is stored.
Living, once was never bored.
Four life times have slipped away
since that fateful, Thanksgiving day.
Roses wither, peddles fall,
surrendering to fates call.
Experiences should fade,
all the adventures should be staid.
Four life times have slipped away,
memories permeate, upon the heart, they play.
Four is the number deeply carved into the trunk
of this tired old body, a mind in a funk,
a heart desiring, laying in the mist of that time
where memories of moments are so sublime.
Four life times have slipped away.
The original life, hanging on so tightly,
never letting go, not even slightly
as it flies aimlessly between then,
on broken wings, and when.
Where hope, the healer, could mend.
Four life times have slipped away.
Wild horses cannot drag these memories,
from this barren plane, locked in the fray,
between those moments and todays realities.
The road has been rough and long.
The road has been, I have not been strong
Four life times have slipped away.
The road seems to go on for eternity.
The load has been heavy, no remedy
for all this self-imposed insanity.
The load weighed me down, I shed many tears
during these long and winding, four years
Four life times have slipped away.
For many a day I did pray.
Alas, they were not but shooting stars.
Like memories, they streaked across the heavens
of my memories hoard, brilliant beams of light
lighting up all the dark places that have permeated.
The four life times that have slipped away.
Shooting stars come, shooting stars go,
as life time’s come, and life time’s go,
each leaving an impression across the skies
as you have done so many time upon my eyes
even if just for a moment, before, for you it dies
Four life times have slipped away.
You opened so many glorious doors,
sent forth all those beautiful stars,
for a moment, burn out, then gone.
Unlike them my Dear, you do,
not fade from my minds view.
B. J. “A” 2
October 20th 2014
If I knew then
what I know now,
would it change all my yesterdays
to mold and form these existing todays?
how different life would be
but that was then and I naive
learning life's in and outs achieved
determining what I firmly believe.
It was an education explored
a lesson plan exposed
in every step of open doors
of memories en-closed.
And you, if you knew
every feared step well taken
was made with love and its heartbreaking
changed us, bonded trust in its very making.
These years and time have passed
and love was more a feeling than a task
I would keep it as destiny forecast,
hold on tight, life just moves too fast.
Photos With No Memory- For Poets
Subtitled: What If You Had No Past
Of course, we all have one, but why
do we keep reliving it?
We use it as an identity, as if that
were todays', we?
Why do we insist on using the same
forms each day?
Might you try doing things in a very
different way?
To live from the unknown future,
not a re-played past.
What heights could you achieve?
What limitations, would you overcome,
if you were not bound by your poetic
repast?
What if you transformed your poetry,
in which you sparkled like a precious gem?
Not leaning on the same old forms..
again and again and again?
"Breakthrough poetry," the freedom to
be the unique, grand poet you are.
To shine through and truly be the
newest, glorious, poetic star!
September 3, 2020
4am PST
I walked away because I couldn't sit and watch you love someone else.
At first I thought you expected me to support you like a cheer leader.
But in the end I realize that you were just too kind to ask me to leave.
I'm left to be all by myself just like I've been for so long in my life.
Just so you know what I'm talking about people, she's an online cam girl.
And the story is not as pathetically foolish as it may appear.
But going into details is not my story to tell. She taught me that one.
You see, we have taught and instilled many things into each others psyche.
In todays world of the internet, it's completely possible to fall in love online.
The problem lies with that one way window because I don't cam to cam.
There are other issues that are involved, but they entail me telling you all
something about me that I have spent 61 years trying to keep hidden.
From others, and for a long time, myself. But, you see, this girl is a male to
female transsexual. And I am also male to female transsexual. I am presently on hormones to transition.
I don't know what some of you will think about this. I know there are a few
on this site who may be a bit shocked. But the basic reason I am telling this on here is that I just can't bear to be perceived anymore as something I'm not. I know many of my poems on here have that male sense to them, but also with a lot of sadness and loneliness and pain. I have only won one contest on here years ago. And it was titled He said She said. Something about that speaks volumes I think. If you read it you'll understand what I mean. I am going to post this because essentially I still retain my essential anonymity here.
But now I will be able to write from that true place in my soul and hopefully what I write will be worth reading. If there are those of you who have a hard time with wrapping your mind around transgenderism. I hope you don't just feel free to comment in derisive ways. I think I've said what I wanted to say and I hope you can be welcoming to Leslie as you were Robert. <3 Thank you for reading.
"One Road leads to tension and worry; one road leads to fear and dread.
My road leads me home to tranquility, to peace, serenity and solitude."
Quote by _Constance
A safe haven,
a home I call my nest;
created piece by piece by piece,
fabricated with all the items that I love.
Each room a place of peace,
like a bird 'building' a nest I have gathered things;
beautiful things that bring serenity and joy,
this is my safe harbor from life.
It is a grand mansion to me,
tranquility is in each room;
I breathe in the harmony and the solitude.
no matter what is happening beyond.
Once the door closes I am safe . . .
protected within my nest from the strains of life.
There is 'tension,'
in todays restless world;
the constant worry of a war,
dread, fear, and malaise at too high-priced groceries.
People are under stress,
it makes them agitated, hostile, lashing out;
there is the threat of global warming- senseless killing.
How can I save the animals ?
How can I stem world starvation ?
Oh, what if I can save just one cat or,
dog? Or help a homeless person in some way?
Why do I feel like a wilted flower ?
And seek the security of my nest . . .
that place assembled piece by piece for peace.
March 10 Scripture Meditations Based on 2Samuel 22-24
Key Verse – 2Samuel 22:3 The God of my rock; in him will I trust: he is my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my high tower, and my refuge, my saviour; thou savest me from violence.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR SHIELDING ME
Thank You for shielding me from enemies
With Your hands of deliverance and security promise
So shall I be settled against adversaries’ dummies
In calling on You by faith according to Your truth’s premise.
Thank You for shielding me from violence
With Your peace as my fortress of serenity’s excellence
So shall I be quieted against harassments’ prevalence
In abiding in You inside Your gentle silence around Your kindness’ opulence.
Thank You for shielding me from sin-corruption
With Your forgiveness full of compassion
So shall I be pardoned to delight in the joy of Your salvation
In trusting You along Your assured redemption and restoration.
Thank You for shielding me from sorrows
With Your comforting refuge for my todays and tomorrows
So shall I be pacified against guilt harrows
In confessing to You my iniquities, trying to hide from rebuke-arrows.
Thank You for shielding me from backsliding-snares
With Your protection, preventing my distress midst trembling scares
So shall I be preserved against shame of afflicting stares
In crying unto You for Your mercy that truly cares.
Thank You for shielding me from calamity
With Your girding strength subduing my vanity’s futility
So shall I be submissive to Your exalted glory and majesty
In worshipping You along Your supreme sovereignty.
March 10, 2022
the rain was crushing our town at eight a.m.
it is three fifteen; bright, warm and sunny
insect droning and dog lapping water are the only sounds
one of my neighbor’s voices gets carried over by the wind
I could not repeat what she said under hypnosis
it was words, but I had no interest
the children’s swing fort is abandoned now
she has been sitting barren for about ten years
I was told to stain her yearly about eighteen years ago
I did it once.
the rope ladder fell off about six months ago
her dual plastic green slides are fresh-looking
my neck is grateful for the Vitamin D raining our way
the dogs sit beside me and behind me
misunderstanding why we are up here
they think it is so I can write
it is for them to exercise
instead, it has become another favorite sleeping place
Only Today’s Poems We Read?
Why is it , that we, literati only read,
The latest poem……is it just for speed?
You might find gems from a poet’s past,
Written in great beauty, that forever lasts.
Even, the most transcendent poets of all time,
Were not poetry machines!
I wrote close to three-thousand, which in retrospect,
I find, grossly obscene!
Great quality, learning true, classical forms
is my new norm.
I was akin to a craven college student in a dorm!
Was popularity only my woebegone daily bread?
What was crawling in my hagiographic head?
Honours to my poet-mentor, I have finally
calmed down.
There is no joy for me, being a winner in
poetry town.
Life breezes by like an Eagle, then, alas, soon ends.
Poetry, by august writers, awaits me, tween my bookends.
Tribute to my mentor ~ Happy Birthday
10/26/2022
Interviewer : The poet
Todays Guest : The wind.
Good morning viewers, this is my guest, the wind. Please offer a warm welcome.
Wind, you have made quite a name for yourself in the media.
Would you agree you have a Bi-Polar personality ?
I am sure I always perform at my best, no matter which polar region I blow.
You have been described as a destructive force, what would you say to that?
Only when affected by nature and her flighty ways of creating warm air currents that rile me. You must admit mostly I am admired for my gentle cooling winds.
There has been bad publicity from firefighters who say you are their worst enemy. How would you respond to this?
Well yes I do help spread fires wonderfully well, and that keeps the firefighters employed.
Ladies wearing dresses and skirts don’t have many good things to say about you.
Ah but for the ladies I can carry their scent for miles. Surely that counts for something.
Is it true that you have been seen in the company of thunderstorms?
Umm well, yes but its purely platonic we are just good friends.
Is there any truth to the rumor that you have accompanied hail on occasions?
Yes another dear friend, although she can be quite cold hearted.
Is the accusation that you are causing a resounding amount of erosion, true?
Umm I find that accusation most incriminating ! The interview is ended.
(Wind wafted away)
Well viewers, it seems the answer to that one is just blowing in the wind.
Thank you and God Bless.