Long Twenties Poems

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


The Rake's Song

Some people go get married,
but I won’t be tied down,
not with such pretty woman
living here in this town.
The young wives in their twenties,
soon after the big day,
see the Honeymoon pass by...
they are my favorite prey.
Most still craving adventure,
the kind they used to know,
they’re cheating on their husbands,
I’m giving them the O.

Then there’s all the college girls,
those youthful activists,
saying the world’s gone all wrong,
we cannot ‘stand for this.’
Lots of them like older men,
there’s naught they will not try,
say you’re working for ‘the cause,’
and they’ll let you inside.
They think they’re ‘empowered,’
so they let it all go,
they’re cheating on their boyfriends,
I’m giving them the O.

Also girls who went to school,,
became ‘bisexual,’
yet deep-down crave alpha-males
to dominate in full.
Just laugh and be mean to them
and some crumble right there,
then you’ll have a night of fun
while pulling their short hair.
Later they feel they’ve betrayed
women and they get low,
they’re cheating on their girlfriends,
I’m giving them the O.

Let’s not forget soccer moms
in their early thirties,
who see best days behind them,
they’ve ‘lost’ all their beauty.
Oh, but when a handsome man
casts lusty grins their way,
they feel just like they are young,
and so easily stray.
I think I’ve knocked a few up,
making their juices flow,
their men will raise my children,
I gave their wives the O.

And who can forget cougars
still under forty-five,
older women, they know things
that make you feel alive.
Their husbands are off working,
and they feel all alone,
I tell you the lawyer’s wives
have the nicest homes.
But wait, I see a shadow,
a man’s form does it show…
her husband’s got a shotgun,
oh crap, I gotta go!

(Gun click, sound of running)
Form: Rhyme


Guess ah

A People Power Champion
that how they speak when
most people say his name.
Stormester Amir born in
Mobius Grander(Parts Unknow) once
blacklisted and removed
from active competition made a
world renowned return
" Amazing Impossible Possibility"
a promoter named his intent to be
Champion.

Due to his inability to get involved
because of his blacklisting
he marveled around and was thought
to be  "Masked Wrestler" and
"Slugger Caul"
Both found to be not him 
when both men were
challenged to be in the same
arena and were both unmasked
by  "Large" Gussy Steeper.
Arco Danzon and Bolero Clave Dinger
were found to be the Masked grapplers
but due to there ages some spoke of a 
wrestlers conspirasy: most ragsheets reported
the guys being both in there early twenties
but the they beleived was
the Masked WrestlerII had wrestled
Masked for more then ten years prior to
this unmasking. This made the return
of the superstar a specail event.
Form: Bio

Premium Member Unloved Lovable Me

I wanted to love myself
But couldn't get past my reflection
or the recollection
of all my imperfections
It was so much easier 
to turn my back on myself
and go in a different direction

So I poured out myself to others
by giving what little I had to them
I did it over and over again
Singing their hallelujahs and amens
Nothing was real 
they weren't really my friends
It's tough to find my lovable
looking through my distorted lens

One day I looked inward
past the constructed facade  
Found my true self  
a lovable child of God
Now I'm fine with imperfect 
It's okay to be flawed
It doesn't even matter
If others think I am odd
The ones who truly know me
celebrate and applaud

They don't expect me 
to be a certain way
or within a box to lay
They see past my clinging to yesterday
and the silly pretend role I used to play
The past is the past 
not a place I was meant to stay
Thank God He helped me 
to throw my false self away!
Now with thankful heart
I've learned how to pray.


This transformation took place back in my early twenties. Thankfully it made life a whole lot more interesting.

I was inspired to write this after reading my friend Eileen Manassian's poem "I Resolve"
I therefore dedicate this piece to her.
Form: Rhyme

Early twenties

I can’t get out of bed
that drink went to my head 
will I lose my job today and become famous instead? 

There’s spots sprawled on my skin
I’m not looking thin 
competition for exhaustion, that’s the one I’ll win 

There’s someone on my case 
friends forget my face 
I think they’re tired of me and my a thousand states 
I need a new job because this can’t be all there is 
there’s a boy over there, who wishes I were his 

I hate what’s in my wardrobe 
I have nothing to wear
I’ve had this job for more than two years
yet I still wake up scared 

I complain about my status 
like I don’t run away 
from actually being liked, from people who will stay  

I change my hair colour like it’s really a fresh start 
I trade my problems for polyester when I press add to cart 

I’m volatile and dangerous
I’m soft and I’m too kind 
I’m forever chasing myself when it’s myself I can’t find

Premium Member Depression

Depression






When you lose your inner light
and intensifies the ongoing fight,
Days and nights seem to merge,
Emotional outburst is at its verge,

In absolute darkness you get lost,
solitude takes over, the ultimate ghost,
Missing few beats, the subtle heart sobs,
tears of sorrow fail to nurture throbs,

Successive thoughts pull you down,
whirlpool that ensures you drown,
Logic of life, death and suicide,
end to all grief, desires and pride !






Written August 6th, 2015
For contest "Mental illness" by Nathan D

Inspired by emotions shared by a young patient in twenties who went into depression as his beloved wife died.

Now entered for contest "Any poem trashed in a recent contest" by Broken wings
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Sorry Scoundrel

My early twenties found me oft' a cad -
          A scoundrel, nonchalant and fancy-free,
                    So casual of sweet hearts and a tad ...
                              Too focused on finesse and ecstasy.

I walked a line, precarious and slim,
          'Tween gallivanting and my dignity ...
                    A crave for women, gathered on a whim,
                              As many rendezvous as I could flee.

I saw romance as something of a feast -
          Thus tasting all the treats of life's cuisine ...
                    Until a broken heart revealed the beast,
                              And all the travesties I'd come to glean.

One unique damsel made me acquiesce ...
                    Despite my errors, loved me ... nonetheless.




~ 3rd Place ~  in the "Standard Contest Number 90 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *

~ 2nd Place ~  in the "New Poems (8 Difficult Words)" Poetry Contest, Emile Pinet, Sponsor.
Form: Sonnet

I Was a Boy Amongst the Men

I was a boy and not a man, 
living at home with mum and dad, 
I liked the freedom didn’t plan, 
was more about the one night stand, 
I didn’t know what the long term plan was, everyone I worked with had already began 
Looking after their money I rinsed my bank 
Independence learning I’m like no thanks 

I take my washing home 
I’m there for sleeping 
I get up and I go 
socialise work eating 

Staying out too late off to work too early 
But I always went in it socially worth it, 
My shift ends go drinking, no thinking 
later on get weed, the weed be stinking 

Drinking pulling working smoking sleeping 
was all I needed, and all I was seeking 
Life was good, life was easy, never better, 
It could have been that pleasing forever 

But I learned nothing new, 
a teenager in his twenties, 
And when it all fell through, 
my life itself left emptied 

I withdrew from the fight in isolation 
Drank and smoked a hermit sleeping 
I couldn’t understand the hate received 
I wouldn’t demand anything that I need 

I’m still a boy who lost his way, 
With a mindset out to gain, 
I found light on the darkest day, 
Grinding out a beautiful pain

Time Io find and meet the man in me, 
took my sweet time but designed to be 
slow, last, when I fight I’m a sight to see, 
surviving the odds, fired up for a life I lead 

I will be what I set out to be, 
without a doubt watch out for me,
I believe I suffered so desperately, 
Tough enough to fulfil my destiny 

The lifestyle for the best I can do
I know how the world works, 
I know how the people work too, 
Now I live it not writing words
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

One Hundred Years

A hundred years have come and gone
 to what wonder and tragedies 
  have you belonged?

My father:
Born in the aftermath of a world at war
 danced to the flappings of the twenties roar,
a time when poverty and wealth wore torn in two
 when the future feared depression's loom;
just a young man filled with wide-eyed dreams in bloom
 where would steps move 
 in the prophetic ravings?
the Dust Bowl blackened clouds with farmers braving
 drowning anthems of a Star-Spangled banner still waving
 and the solo flight of history
 forever remains a mystery;
political isms rise in freedoms slow demise
 while Hollywood reviews the movies
 in truth and lies;
the end of an era welcomed in the shanty towns
 as Europe recovers with a parade of suicidal clowns;
 off to war drafting historic days of infamy
when bloody battles raged 
 as alliances filled the stage
 and at last, a momentary peace was cast;
with love and hope returned again, 
 life was never quite the same;
 distrust, cold war gloom 
 threatened the next generations bloom
a hated war embraced love freely, 
 killed in a plaza at Dealy
 perhaps too easily, we gave it all away
 as nuclear power paved the new day;
the power mongers rose, 
 wealthy and the greedy exposed
 life continued for the bold, 
 growing rebellious children in the fold
 with yet a newer fear to mold,
wars and change in the aftermath 
 for everyone who has lost their path;
 equality returned to the open stage, 
 the promise of an enlightened age
 but time is never stationary
and no one man is a visionary
 with walls torn down and freedom's cries
 history burns with false truths and lies;
drugs and saturated imaged shadows quickly return 
 to clouded hazy minds burned 
 in foggy dreams to be unlearned
and fallen heroes disappear and die
 close the century with disappointment
 and no magic panacea provided ointment
now at the turn of time 
 in the final last hurrah
 a battle rages yet no one with power speaks
 of the lesson taught, 
history must once again, 
 repeat.

Seen it all 
 my dear father
  the foolishness, the truth, and lie,  
  in which mankind lives and dies
 the messages by which the common man exists
is only the futures that we all resist.




A musing recollection on my father's 100 birthday. 8/19/19
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.
age
Form: Elegy

Premium Member The New Roar

The war on women is half the reason we are in this mess,*
our earth systems failing our societal descent, as men 
divide and conquer women gather and tend. Our garden
set for reaping and a great divide to mend.



                 the brand the new roar
          roaring twenties women rocking~

                     a rolling no more





*Religion offers a palpable sense of peace and purpose 
  and however God exists religion itself is a man made 
  construct too often used to control women.

  When I lost my faith in Catholicism, I didn’t lose God,
  I fell more in love with my world.
Form: Haibun

Got To Lose To Start New

Something I have to accept Is that my life reset, 
my transitional twenties ended empty, 
from people to places to drugs I was  taking, 
life snapped escaped became separated. 

my thirties gave me a new slate, 
but in a confused state, 
stuck in a removed place, 
facing my twenties on a clue chase, 
Had an empty space 
escalation lost pace 
Now something I trace
seek truth and link fate, 

Depressed misery  
to repressed memories 
Friends to enemies 
Worn away mentally 

I finally find the beginning 
the start was me winning 
then helpless hope blinking 
overwhelmed lost and sinking 

I went at it alone putting up a fight, 
Survived the mind games and the plots, 
advantage to fight preventing my flight 
when help was denied, victory was forgot 

I just needed the mature thought 
someone to advise, someone to talk, 
The unprepared fight that I fought, 
Never win on my own, certainty fall short

I get it now that I was let down 
 the power that be went to town
illegal operations pushed me about
Treating me as though I’m a clown 

That judgement is subjective 
Based on selfish objective 
disrespectful rejection didn’t want to listen 
True colours, gone never will I miss them 

And now I can link the past to the present, 
Understanding reality no longer guessing, 
A vision of my future beyond depression  
No longer destroyed suicidal and stressing 

Absorbed on the whole yet still sinking in, 
I get caught reminiscing not progressing 
Torture and stolen time is my obsession 
But slowly digested as the impact lessens 

I know I am stalling and after I’d fallen, 
But I know I’ll go forward and be rewarded
need to explore what for and my calling 
Beaten to believing, a victory recorded 

I never surrendered
I never gave in 
The lesson to remember 
Endure ‘til you win
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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