Long Two weeks Poems

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


Premium Member Escaping the Medusa

This Medusa had no power to turn us into stone
but when she ran aground over Poseidon's throne
his anger stirred, and into the sea the crew was flung.
On a raft urgently built of salvaged timbers we clung.
A hundred and more escaped before the frigate sunk
and after four days adrift, our number had shrunk.

With naught but salted sea to sate our massive thirst
I vowed not to give in. I swore I'd not be the first
to yield to temptation and drink myself to death
though feverish from the intensity of the sun's breath.
On the eighth day, hunger turned men into savages,
feasting on flesh in a moment of rapacious ravages.

Bloated bodies bobbled like apples off Africa's coast.
I contemplated my fate to become what I dreaded most-
being tossed off the raft, into a shark's clamping jaws.
To survive, no one had agreed to abide by man's laws.
I'll not forget the look of fear in the eyes of others,
sailors who once proudly called themselves 'brothers.'

Each of us clutched and clawed for an inch of the raft.
The feeble ones cackled as though they'd gone daft.
Arms and legs entangled among the living and dead,
as an alabaster corpse pillowed a sun-blistered head.
The demented swam away, flailing arms in roiling waves
until they perished in the depths of their turbid graves.

Alas the day, two weeks in, a ship sighted on the horizon.
Fifteen survivors with charred skin, lean and wizened
rescued from death's grip in a morbid human experience.
Men who'd given up on hoping for a timely deliverance,
their bodies emaciated, and their clothing, threadbare,
destined to relive the catastrophe in gruesome nightmare.


August 4th 2022
2022 Marathon mile 11 Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney

NOTE: In June 1816, the French frigate Medusa, ran aground off the coast of Senegal. Because of a shortage of lifeboats, some 150 survivors embarked on a raft and were decimated by starvation during a 13-day ordeal, which descended into murder and cannibalism. Only a handful remained when they were rescued at sea.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative


New Me

Two weeks since I began
back on the first of Jan,
my aim, better diet, lose weight,
one more birthday passed
hopefully not my last
so I'm changing before it is too late.
My input of dairy
was really quite scary,
demolishing cheese by the wedge,
my waist getting wider
from real ales and cider,
so time to cut back, eat more veg.
Eating more carbohydrates
cutting back on the phosphates,
ramp up vitamins B6 and B12,
If they've got Niacin and Thiamin
you can bet that I'll buy 'em in,
supplements slowly filling the shelves.
Pantry looks like a garden
as my resolve hardens,
more greens than I've eaten before,
Spinach, Broccoli, Legumes
are now taking up room
from the top shelf right down to the floor.
I'm into week three
for a healthy new me,
there's a few more tweaks I haven't done,
But I think, honestly
I prefer the old me-
this one isn't having much fun.
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member 1969 Was a Sad Year

1969 was a sad year for those aware of Viet Nam
We were seventeen and eighteen
It was in the news but what did it have to do with us?
Our love was intense
He wore white jeans that made me wild
He knew it, so he wore them often
Driving me crazy

Nothing else mattered, nothing else mattered
We thought no one knew our secret look
Others gave us our illusion
His draft number was thirty-six
He found a loophole
I begged him to use it.
It was daring. On Christmas week his number went to number 1.
Only for a week, then he would get a new number, way back in the two hundreds
Our love was intense
He wanted to please me
Driving his folks crazy

A phone call came on Christmas Day
He had to go; they had pulled his card.
I felt awful. Our love was intense. 
Vietnam was real now
He wanted more now before he left.
I was wild but not that wild.
This was the Bible belt
Small town America
His pleas were driving me crazy
At the airport we could not keep our hands off each other.
I told him we could do the things he wanted when he returned.
But he did not last two weeks.
He was killed in a jungle
We did not even care about
My heart blew up in the landmine with his
Driving me crazy
I wish I had done things differently
I would like to see those white jeans again
Form: Narrative

Waiting

Sitting in a waiting room once more
All in the hope of extra vigour to explore
Two weeks in with no change 
No feelings of wonderment to exchange 
Silence is not part of the mind
Just static noise is there to find
Enjoyment in life has been destroyed
Happiness and longing is all devoid
One day at a time they say
All there is to to do is hope and pray
That one day this will all change
A full life to still arrange
One week on there is nothing new
Another week of torment that flew
Feels like nobody listens
By doctors nurses and physicians 
Instead of helping I’m the problem
Be out the way quiet and solum 
I wish the would help and understand 
Close their mouth and offer a hand
Instead of making me suffer 
You are making me weaker not tougher
For now I keep on waiting
Continue acting
Until next time 
Or a faster decline
© Andy DW  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Marriage Marathon

Many years ago when we were all young,                          we dated looking for a mate.                                          Two weeks after high school,                                          my best girlfriend was getting married.                            She wore a beautiful white satin wedding dress,                I was in her wedding in a pretty pink lace dress.                The next year I was in a beautiful white lace dress,        she was in my wedding in a pretty pink dress.                  Then came a fall wedding and I was wearing peach,          the bride once again was in a beautiful white satin dress.  I have been to more weddings than I can count,              many pretty dresses now hang in the closet.                    Each couple could not make it over the finish line,when things got rough~they just quit.                              Here we are with another anniversary on the way,            it has been a marathon race to the end.                          We will not quit,                                                            we will finish to the end or to death us do part.    


Date Written: 6/26/2022


Half Term Blues

Half-term holidays are here again
Two weeks of not going to school
Uniforms are in the washing machine
Even though the kids think they're uncool

After two days they'll be fighting
And I bet this will strike a chord
In a week you will be hearing
Those three little words “Mum, I’m bored”

Holiday companies charge more
Than they do during term-time
But you can't take them away then
You'll get fined because it’s a crime

None of the kids will read a book
They're on the console playing games
They won't take turns on the controller
So they call each other names

Board games they got for Christmas
Have never left the box
They have no patience to do jigsaws
And they're too old for building blocks

I turn off the TV and say 
“We’re going to the park”
By the time they get their coats on
It’s going to be dark

Eventually we’re on our way
And the park gates are in sight
A youth who’s loitering near a tree
Asks me if I’ve got a light

I tell him I don't smoke
And he gives me a dirty look
Then he mumbles a reply
That sounds like gobbledygook

When we get into the park
There's no apparatus free
It’s all occupied by youths
And two are carving on a tree

My youngest starts to cry
He wants to go upon the swing
The occupant waves his fist
Wearing a knuckle-duster ring

Another youth produces a flick-knife
Designed to look like a comb
So I usher the kids towards the park gates
And tell them it’s time we went home

Back at the house it’s time for tea
And no-one says a word
My eldest child takes my hand in his
And says “Mum, were you scared?”

I tell him that those at the park
All probably thought they were cool
They'd probably roamed the streets
Instead of going to school

He smiles at me and says “you’re right,
Now what game can we play?”
My heart sinks and I realise 
They're bored after one day
I dread to think how bored they'll be
When it’s a six week holiday
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Broken Love Story

"My dearest, sweet, beautiful John,

     Just a quick note to tell you how much the last two weeks meant to me.
I know it's only been a moment in time, but my life has changed; my soul has changed.
Our walks and our talks and your arms holding me under that old Maple tree,
I want to see you again soon, if something can be arranged.
I'm sure you'll think this silly, but I think I've fallen in love with you.
Do you believe in love at first sight, do you love me too!?

I'll love you forever,
Jane"


"My dear sweet John,

     Finally I've heard from you.  It's only been a week but seems like forever.  
I've carpeted my bed with each page and read each word a hundred times.
You said you loved me too, and nothing could keep us apart, nothing, whatsoever.
Promises of you and I together, even if it takes a thousand lifetimes.
The words you write are so sweet and tender.
Why does it feel they were so hard to render?

Love always,
Jane"


"My dearest John,

      It was so nice when I received your last letter.  You seem to remember everything.
The morning at the beach, I'm sorry you were bored, I like lying in the sun.
And the thing you had for that girl last year; what we have, to me, is more then a fling.
I know nothing is perfect and neither am I, but at least we had some fun.
Maybe when we're together again, though I don't know when, 
we can work things through.  We can talk then.

Love
Jane"


"Dearest John

     It's been a while since I've heard from you.
I've waited eagerly with tears in my eyes,
but I think perhaps this means we're through,
unless you agree there will be no more lies.
It seems I can't stop thinking or crying.
Is there hope?  Or, should I stop trying.

Yours,
Jane"


"Dear John,

     It's been a long time since I have corresponded with you,
but I think it's time to put this to rest.
All of the feelings I had were true,
but things have changed and I think this is best.
I'll think of you, as my broken heart mends,
and if you wish we can still be friends.

Jane"


9/5/2015
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Where Is Everyone

Where is Everyone
by Robert J (Bob) Moore (c) 2020

I went out into the street
but there was no one there to greet
everyone just stayed inside
from Coronavirus they did hide

The panic had spread far and near
and everywhere there was the fear
that you could catch it, and you would die
if someone with it you should spy

So stay at least 3 feet away
from crowds, and don’t go out to play
wash your hands, and please don’t sneeze
that spreads the virus, on the breeze

Just stay away from other folk
stay inside it is no joke
takes two weeks before your cured
so take your phone, and don’t get bored

There are other viruses which spread
but this one seems to affect the head
even with no symptoms you do strange things
buy toilet rolls, and paper things

the coronavirus will get you
if you don’t do what your told
don’t bother about the bogey man
he’s a scary tale of old

Now we have this new thing
kids can’t go out to play
and if you see a group of friends
you’re told to stay away
Form: Rhyme

She Is My World-Part 2

Not with your kid, the one who SHOULD mean the most.
Makes me so sick, your lifestyle is so gross.
A narcissist at that, you will never admit
When you get called out you have a little kid fit

Turning the situation around on the other person instead
You want to know what nonexistent feels like, then to me you are dead! 
You can’t force one you love, not even their own kid 
I don’t want to hear excuses I don’t care what you did.

I am here day and night like a parent should be
And will always love my daughter and always have, you see.
Don’t make excuses for why you can’t call
It takes two seconds to pick up the phone, that’s all!

I’m done forcing you to see her, and give her your “Love.”
It’s only me caring. You more like I have to push and shove. 
She gets plenty of Love from me and my Fam. 
They call her, they see her they actually give a damn!

Thank God she does have all of us
Because she stopped asking for you, not even a fuss
Blame NO ONE but YOURSELF for this
Cause if you do, your proving me right, your just a narcissist. 

The manipulation, the lies I dealt with for too long
I now have to protect my daughter and teach her to be strong.
She still loves you, and for that I am glad
But one day it will be too late and she will not miss her Dad.

My parents are like her other half caring like a co-parent should do
But you can’t co- parent, it’s all about you
Your life, feelings and love all go to yourself
Someday it will be too late, you really need help.

But like I said, I want no contact with you Kris
It has gone on too long, why can’t you see any of this!?
Your perfect, always right, and you never do wrong
I can’t make you be a Dad you have been nonexistent too long.

Popping in every two weeks is not being a Dad
When you grow up I hope you feel just as sad! 
Because you have caused hurt to everyone in your life
I hope it hurts you bad, like a stab with a knife!

She is growing up so fast at the blink of an eye 
Wake the  up, be a father, or just say Goodbye
All she has known is you in and out
That’s fine! Peace! If that’s what your all about.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member -Nature Can Be Cruel

In a hanging basket in the back garden 
Two baby dove eggs were born 
Mumma Dove sat on them for two weeks
Keeping them safe and warm

Everyday we would check them
Making sure all was ok 
Two little bald baby doves
Beautifully appeared one day

Mumma didn’t stay very long
Before these tiny babies were on their own
Swinging around in the wind 
In their hanging basket home

We found  one on the ground
Lying on the lawn
We popped it back in the  hanging basket
To keep it protected and warm

One day there were two
The next day only one
We hoped that baby had flown away
And not been hurt by anyone?

In the dark one night I saw the little one left
Perched on the edge attempting to fly
Appearing very uncertain
But doing it’s best to try

In the morning it was in the garden wandering about
My husband was out there watching on
When out of nowhere a kookaburra swooped the baby by its neck
And In an instant the little baby was gone!

Such sadness we both felt for those two little birds
We jokingly called our “Grandies”
I know nature has its own way
Though sometimes cruel it seems to be!!
© Deb M   Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace