Long Up to me Poems
Long Up to me Poems. Below are the most popular long Up to me by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Up to me poems by poem length and keyword.
If your crazy for loving over and over you see,
then crazy, yes crazy I must be,
I get my heart broken time after time,
my heart comes back to it's own rhythm and rhyme.
The year's have caught up to me now,
to love again I just wouldn't know how.
So I have given my all unto God, to learn how to love,
He sent the answer from Heaven, on the wings of a dove.
Whole heartily, with all your heart, mind, soul, and spirit,
love loud enough for all to hear it.
For all thing's has 2 different side's,
the good one we try to show, while the dark side tries to hide.
So if we don't give our hearts to love and be loved you see,
we wouldn't understand the depths of the person we should be.
Lesson's that are the hardest, sometimes holds the most beautiful thing's,
It makes the heart merry and the lip's to sing.
Love loud and hard, while you can, but with true love I do say,
as you want to be loved and treated, to them be the same way.
If they defile the love that you give with all your heart,
you will stand strong knowing you did your part.
To be the one that defiles true love, I would not want to be,
for they fill their own hearts up with heartaches and misery.
If your crazy for loving over and over you see,
then crazy, yes crazy I must be,
I get my heart broken time after time,
my heart comes back to it's own rhythm and rhyme.
The year's have caught up to me now,
to love again I just wouldn't know how.
So I have given my all unto God, to learn how to love,
He sent the answer from Heaven, on the wings of a dove.
Whole heartily, with all your heart, mind, soul, and spirit,
love loud enough for all to hear it.
For all thing's has 2 different side's,
the good one we try to show, while the dark side tries to hide.
So if we don't give our hearts to love and be loved you see,
we wouldn't understand the depths of the person we should be.
Lesson's that are the hardest, sometimes holds the most beautiful thing's,
It makes the heart merry and the lip's to sing.
Love loud and hard, while you can, but with true love I do say,
as you want to be loved and treated, to them be the same way.
If they defile the love that you give with all your heart,
you will stand strong knowing you did your part.
To be the one that defiles true love, I would not want to be,
for they fill their own hearts up with heartaches and misery....
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared bt not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
The pastor feared for many years once upon learning who I am.
A gift to the world sits in the palm of my hands.
For good or for evil, its up to me to decide.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
Before the death of my sister, you told me I would have to choose.
I chose my familia then my heart forever became brused.
You went away from my dreams then only came back once my heart became cold.
You reached out your hand yet I only turned it away.
Fighting wars in my dreams of unknown beings.
Voices in my head and visions of unusual seeings.
Picked up the Bible yet only learning of its hidings.
Secerts of a World thats so blind to many.
When someone speaks no one listens.
When the voice up lifts then everyone begins to focus.
Against a belief thats much stronger then our own can leave a person breathless.
I lay down a pad then pick up a pen but my hands refuse to let me write.
Stand in front of a croud to speak of our World but my voice is silence.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
You told me respect will be high because of the gift I offer.
You told me I wouldn't have to struggle anymore all I have to do is take your hand.
Walk with you like how I once did with Jesus.
Talk with you like I prayed to God.
Not to bow to your feet but lift out my hand for you to kiss as we bow to each other.
Sit on the right hand side of the thrown.
To have power greater then the World can image.
A new lyfe where you wouldn't have to hope and dream.
You promised me my revenge on the cruel will come.
You promised my my oppinons will be a factor.
No more crying at night because of hunger pains.
Or familia betrayal.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear
Form:
I'm a simple guy,
I like video games, music and succeeding without trying,
So when a man comes up to me and tell me he can save my life,
Who am I to turn down a free book from a generous passerby,
Strange how after hundreds of Reddit articles I find these red words the most astounding,
Each verse saturated with a truth beyond my understanding,
I embraced the scripture in my new-found belief,
Ditching skeptics and scientific contention for a biblical motif,
So with my newfangled faith I embarked on a holy endeavor,
To sift through a lifetime of personal uncertainty to uncover the answer,
I found myself under bottomless pizza boxes,
Buying time stocks from the evolutionary clock,
Discovering purpose through glimmering game discs,
Fashioning polygonal personalities into personable obelisks,
Uncovering the depths of my psyche excavating mountains of dirty laundry,
Rinse on, dry off, purging both physical filth and emotional quandaries,
Sharing walkways with speeding cars enslaved to a monetary duty I can't shirk
A journey of a thousand steps every pilgrimage to work,
My blood a bubbling brew of ambition and potential,
Yet required to surpass insurmountable credentials,
Ignoring the marked symbols in newspapers they seek to brand on my forehead,
Subjective opinions of civility and idealism dropped on me like warheads,
Cryptic predictions of personality and fate,
You think I need a dice roll to determine if I'm straight?
Countless evaluations to rationalize the psyche and soul combined,
What makes their opinion more viable than mine?
I'm taking buoyant steps upon the swamp to reach my destination,
Swapping carnality for divinity to achieve the ultimate self-preservation,
Cremating my mortality I seek to ascend,
Past primitive understanding of a purpose I cannot comprehend,
This road we walk is coated with trip-wire and paved with scorching coals,
Watch out for those flaming hours in your 5-day forecast so find the nearest foxhole,
The burden on our shoulders has already been lifted so there's no reason for us to be aching,
We're on the path to eternal salvation why aren't we skipping?
So why don't you tag along with me on this self-realization odyssey,
I can't promise explosions or tentacle-headed aliens but I know it'll at least be interesting,
Just you, yourself, me and I,
The most dynamic duo to ever breach the sky.
My Nephew Bucky.
You have always been a special one
You made me so very proud
We always had special times and fun
We'd dance and sing aloud.
When you'd fall and get hurt
You'd run to me to stop the pain
and wipe away your tears and dirt
No matter what our love remains.
You grew up to be big and strong
You went to serve our country
Came home safe where you belong.
Knowing you did your best to keep us free.
Then you fell in love with a lovely girl.
Together you have a special little boy
You've made your mark in this world
You fill your family with so much joy.
*************************************************************
story behind this poem
His real name is Aaron buckley. but when he was a toddler he had trouble say the L sound in his name so it always caame our aaron bucky. so the name stuck.
He is my sister's son But I basically raised him. He was my first chance at knowing what a mom felt like. When looking at their child. I did everything for him that I could possibly do,to protect him and keep him happy and on a positive path in life.
Whenever he fell and got hurt he'd come running to me to make it better. Even if his own parents were right there. I'd reach down and pick him up and tell him to hug me so tight his pain would transfer to me. He believed it really worked so he would let go when it didnt hurt anymore and then would run and play. It was those types of things that hold a special place in my heart. jnowing he chose to look up to me for guidaance and go to my parents for anything else. Ge;s turned out to be a great guy and one to be proud of. When there are troubles and things he wants answers to He still comes to me for them.
His birthday is the end of this month so i wrote this for him and shared it on facebook with him and his wife. . This poem and the connection I have with him and his wife as well as sharing photos with both of them. Since there aren't any left from my parents' piles. My siblings destroyed everything. My sister deleted me from her page on facebook over it all. So I blocked her so she can't seen anything else I post. if she wants to grow up again then we'll talk. or try to mend the rift she caused to begin with. God knows what is best and who to bring into our lives and who needs to be taken out. sad really.
© Bonnie J Hollywood-Cutts other poems • family poems
Have you ever had something happened to you that scared you out of your wits? I have. It
all began on my birthday last year. (This is not a true story, by the way.)
April 1st, 2009. 8:00PM
My mom threw a huge birthday party for me, everyone in the family was there. A few hours
after the party, my mom was invited to dinner with her new boyfriend. She was going to say
no because she didnt want to leave me alone for my birthday, but I love her too much to
have her give it up. An hour later, my mom and Ray were heading out for dinner. When they
left, I went up to my room, laid flat on my bed, and fell asleep.
10:00PM
Two hours later, I heard a crash coming from downstairs. It woke me up with a jolt going
down my spine. I grabbed my flashlight which was on my dresser, and headed down the
stairs. I checked out the living room, nothing was wrong. I checked out the hallway, nothing
was wrong. Then I walked into the kitchen. Everything seemed to be in place. Just as I
started turning out the door, I noticed somethig odd in the corner of my eye. In the knife
rack, a knife was missing. I searched around the kitchen but could not find the knife. I
ignored it and went back upstairs, back to sleep.
11:00PM
My mom came back from dinner. She screamed up to me saying, "I'm back from dinner. I'm
gonna get some sleep. Good night, and happy birthday."
12:30AM
Later that night, I heard the crash again. It sounded like it was coming from the basement.
So I grabbed my flashlight, raced downstairs. I first ran into my mom's room to make sure
she was alright. She was perfectly fine. Then I ran to the basement and looked around. A
lightbulb had fallen from the ceiling and broke on the ground. I swept it up with a broom, and
put it in the garbage can. I started to climb the stairwell once again, and there I saw it. There
was the kife sitting on the middle of the floor in a pool of blood with red footprints walking to
the closet. I picked up the knife, slowly walked to the closet. The closet was inches away
from me. I could hear a gasp of breath coming from inside. I closed my eyes, swung open
the door and stabbed away. I could feel the blade penetrating something, but what? I opened
my eyes, and realized what I had just done. Apparently, my mother was back from dinner,
and here lies her dates.
Just a lonely depressed, emotional, lost girl who doesn't know what to do. I'm confused but I'm kinda happy guess it depended on if I was dope sick.. I didn't start using big stuff as in oxycotin Roxy's until I was 19-20 years old I just started out snorting then it got to the point I couldn't feel them that way anymore. I was then introduced to heroin af first I was like this is nothing then I done more atleast a half gram I loved it.. My addiction kept getting worse!! Before I knew it I was stealing from my parents and grandpa and in all honesty I didn't have to steal they would have just given me the money.. Once I turned 22 my life changed I was not the same person I once was, that was very hard and difficult because my niece and nephew's looked up to me we done everything together until my parents found out I was shooting up heroin they never thought that their babygirl would ever do that!! I was shocked also. But after a few months I got really bad off I would rob and steal from people mainly family. I was doing atleast 2 grams of heroin every four or five hours. It made me feel awesome, amazing every time I would do a shot all my pain physically and emotionally would go away it was like nothing else mattered!! I could enjoy my day/night with my family mainly nieces and nephews til one morning I woke up with the worse body cramps,vomiting, pooping all over the place voices in my head the devil wanted me. I was slowly killing myself I was ready to give up. I begged cried everything for someone to help me.. Ii just wanted to live my life without drugs but that was my escape from everything. When me n my sister was younger we was molested once we grew up it haunted us,then right before my 18th bday I was raped by someone I had a previous relationship with when I was 14 took him to court the judge believed him over me and I had prove!! I just didn't know what i done so wrong to deserve everything. I had a lot going on didnt know how to cope with it all so i agreed to go a treatment center to get help. Spent 3 weeks in there everything from my past haunting me, couldn't sleep eat or anything finally after a week and half of treatments i was sent home with medicine to help me but I was still physically, emotionally not there but I was clean n sober for the time being.. Life isn't easy.. This is a life of an addict, surviver
I believe in the right place
and the right time.
If one has fighting in mind.
I'm not talking about people
who join (the fight,)
those who stand up for a cause.
People fight for a number of reasons.
Two people don't agree on something.
Ignorance, anger and lack of patience.
People let their anger
get the better of them.
Really angry people feel
they have to hurt you.
Most people believe
there is no such thing as a fair fight.
You hear things like “*itch!”
I’m gown beat your sorry behind tonight!
And the other says
“you can try!”
“You gotta bring some
to get some!
These are the people
that carries a weapon.
For those who were taught how to fight,
like Boxers and people who study
the Marshall arts.
When you learn how to fight,
you have to remember people's
second amendment rights.
You'd be surprise at the number of people
who'd bring a gun to a fist fight.
There are those who go out looking for a fight.
Suffering from inflated ego's or over confidence.
Those are ones who get beaten up every time.
I was a Dee Jay working at night club.
A guy came up to me and told me.
He came out to start something.
His night wouldn't be right without a good fight.
So later that night when the club was packed.
And of course, a fight started on the other side of the room.
Mr. Ignorant jumps up and turns over his table
looking to start something.
But the people had quickly
picked up their drinks and stood back.
I smiled as security walked his Ignorance out the door.
If one has fighting in mind,
I believe in the right place and the right time.
So, lets flash back to 1979
Where I was in a Kung Fu class.
After training for a few of months,
In the outdoor gym, my class mate
Help me find my glass chin.
I was over confident,
He showed me why he was number one
In the class and I was number two.
I wanted to go a few rounds with him.
I thought I was better than he was.
So, I was clowning around making him look bad,
or so I thought.
When I took my stance.
That’s when he taped me on my chin.
And… that was thee end…
The lights went out.
I came too, and found myself on the gym floor
And people looking down at me.
I had never been knocked out before.
I have kept my ego in check
from that day to this.
So, I learned that
ignorance is bliss, until
you get hit by a fist.
My palms would sweat. I’d get physically sick.
Why was I always the last one they’d pick?
There were times I would not be selected at all,
for a physical game, I was pretty darn small.
I watched as they’d point, whisper, and scheme;
avoid if they could choosing me for their team.
My Dad told me, “Son, God made you this small,
to prove it’s not height that makes someone tall.”
So, he set up a goal post, and bought me a tee.
He told me, “Success would be all up to me.”
I practiced my kicking whenever I could.
I worked very hard ‘till I got pretty good.
I’ll never forget that hot summer day,
tryouts for high-school to see who would play.
The teasing began as I stepped on the field.
My jersey so big, they laughed and they squealed.
The coach even grinned, as I heard him say,
“This is not a good sport for peewees to play.”
The practice was brutal, even more than I thought.
But then, towards the end, at last came my shot.
Coach explained how important a kicker would be.
Last season they had lost four games under three.
He placed the ball down on the thirty-yard line,
forty-yards from the goal I had claimed to be mine.
There must have been twenty or more who had tried,
all woefully short as the coach merely sighed.
With hands on his head he looked to the sky.
I was the last to step up and ask, “Can I try?”
Everyone laughed, ‘till he shouted, “Enough!”
then mockingly said to me, “Show us your stuff.”
As I carefully positioned the ball on the tee,
it seemed the whole world was laughing at me.
So, I called on the power that God will provide,
then glanced to a nod from my Dad on the side.
Three great big steps and my toe struck the ball.
I caught it just right. I knew how after all.
It seemed like slow-motion as the team stopped to stare.
The ball gently tumbled as if floating on air.
The looks on their faces I could never replace,
as it split through the uprights with plenty of space.
I looked towards my Dad now beaming with pride,
then turned to the coach with his mouth open wide.
Cheers were replacing the laughs I’d revered,
on the day that hard work overcame what I feared.
I went on to college and professional ball,
but that was the kick I enjoyed most of all.
I don’t think I’d ever have worked quite that hard,
if I wasn’t picked last on that old school yard.
His tough love broke me down
His tough love put everything in perspective
His tough love made me better
His tough love brought out perfection
And if it takes me lying in this bed
So be it
It gave him satisfaction
Even though its not what I wanted it to be
He was the manual I followed for love
And everything I followed had me dead
But I saw the grin in his face
So I would follow the script over and over again
But could have things been different?
What would happen if I hadn’t gazed in his bling?
Would it created an effect?
Or would it have not done a thing?
Tough love is bittersweet
And it takes and it takes and takes
Everything out of me for love
But it never make anything beautiful, it would never create
His love was toxic
His love was addicting
I always followed him at every beat
I called it torture, he called uplifting
I was with him in the high
I was with him in the low
Now when I hit rock bottom
He said he has to go
No person found it hard to see
The relationship that we were in wasn’t right
And after he destroyed everything in my life
He decides to leave, and I don’t put up a fight
I am tired of this
Tied down to the bed is the consequence
He left me here sick to die
And went looking for a girl that was a monument
But it love right?
Destroying, hating, belittling
Only person h could love was himself
But everything he done to me was hating
I hate that he tricked me
I hate that I had failed
But not failed to his every obligation and demand
But failed to listen what was always in my hand
I made my voice go mute
Ii stored it and boxed it up in the shelf
Everything I did was for him
I fought for him and never for myself
When everything is said and done
It’s the scars that stay
Its up to me to decide whether I want to keep going forward
Or letting them keep me at bay
I left the hospital looking like me again
The old skeleton puppet was gone
It was up to me to decide
And I want to move on
I look at myself now
I realize I am better that I have ever been
I have found that joy and light
That existed in me from the thick and thin
He was toxic
He was controlling
And what do we do with trash
Well, you know where its going
I have found love
And I have fallen head over heels
Who is that person you might ask?
Well, that person is me
I stood on the bridge looking at the river below.
A strange-looking man came up to me and said “hello,
“Do you know where I’ll be able to find a job here?’
That is what the strange man asked me in a voice quite clear.
I said, “I don’t really know. I don‘t live very near.”
The way the man looked at me gave me a little fear.
He heard what I said, and then began to walk away.
However, I would meet that man again that same day.
The day in Wisconsin was quite hot that September.
The man I saw was heavily clothed, I remember.
I was relaxing; stretched on the grass when he appeared
the second time that day. The scenario was weird.
Not looking straight at me, he seemed to sense my presence.
He was a big man with some burgeoning corpulence.
Perspiring heavily, he would not take off his shirt.
As he spoke again, he seemed emotionally hurt.
“I haven’t held a good job in nearly forty years.”
The way this man spoke to me rekindled all my fears.
“Mind if I keep you company a little today?
I’ve been on the road a long time with no place to stay.
It’s Labor Day, the height of the carnival season.
Not one of them will give me a job for some reason.”
“What seems to be the trouble?” I asked him politely.
He said nothing. He unbuttoned his shirt quite slowly.
With his eyes closed, he would answer me somnolently.
“I hope to perspire enough, and have them all wash off.
I’ve been hoping the sun would burn me, and they’d cook off.”
With his shirt removed, he asked me if they were still there.
I responded, “Yes they are”, and could not help but stare.
Skin illustrations made their appearance everywhere.
He told me, “My appearance is enough to frighten.
So, I wear this shirt especially around children.
They follow me on the roads with curiosity.
However, they are all filled with fright when they see me.
I know this seems to you to be a very strange thing.
These things are staying on me; it all keeps on going.
I am this way all over. I hope you understand.”
He opened his fist to reveal a rose on his hand.
It looked so real; yet it was just a mere illusion.
His body was a pervasive colorful fusion.
There were all sorts of images in three dimension.
I said “They’re beautiful”. It was not my intention.
To be continued
Based on the short story "The Illustrated Man" by Ray Bradbury