Long Upstairs Poems

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


Premium Member Do Good-My Spokenword

My brother when you see something good in someone 
you share you care do good 
And when you see that it will benefit them from above 
My brother you share you care do good 
You know and don't be afraid when it is in your power 
To act you may be saving my life 
Don't think about it twice 
Do good my brother when you see something good in someone 
You share you care do good 
Now my sisters some peace of mind 
You share you care do good 
Won't you fall on your knees right there 
When you are in praise say my 
Father's looks upon me here 
On my day dear friend he doesn't let herself or others go astray
For if they fall Satan wins my sister when you see something good 
In someone you share you can do good elevate on high 
Praise the one who's in the skies 
Standing before you praise God praise God for Him this race 
He falls she falls fails the race 
And I know it's your love and grace 
You hat we give we live I see something good and someone you share 
You care and when you see that it will benefit him or her 
From upstairs don't be despair don't be displaced look on the happiness on their face Share the word share your heart share your love 
Don't be afraid when it is your power to act 
And maybe you may be saving a just online 
Don't think about it twice so I'll do good my brother my sister
 just do good

5/17/07
7/22/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022


Dvorak's Living Hell, Part I

The new maid, Jo, walked out onto the deck,
Seeing the reclined form of Eric Dvorak.
He stretched out in the sun,
oblivious to everyone,
then leapt up quick, stiffness in his back.

Eric then stared up at a high window,
way up on the second floor did his gaze go.
Anger made his face a cloud,
he roared it all out loud,
screaming,”Cheating *****! I’ll lay you low!”

He tore up the mansion at a sprint,
she followed quickly when he did.
She didn’t see what Eric saw,
but she knew something was wrong.
When she caught up she was out of wind.

Eric stood in the door, onlooking,
anyone could see the fury in him cooking,
He cried,”I’ll show you both!”
Then into the room did go,
the maid walked up and she saw nothing...

Eric waited in the middle of a bedroom.
The rage was gone, but he wasn’t looking good.
From his face to his veins,
he was a pulsing mass of pain.
He slumped against the bed’s old hardwood.

Now the old maid Ellie came up near them,
and said to her,”Leave him alone now, friend.
None of this seems quite right,
But I’ll explain to you outside.”
So they went down to the backyard fence.

They settled in the shade near the fig,
and Ellie took a bit to puff an e-cig.
She turned and said to her,
“I trust you not to say a word.
Or the outside world will come and start to dig.”

Ellie looked nervous, but then continued on,
“Eric once has a wife he doted upon.
But once while sitting outside,
he saw two shadows in a window high,
and rushed upstairs, fearing something wrong....

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Rounding Up a Game

After rounding up some cattle
 I headed to the saloon
  To have a drink or two
 And hear a bawdy tune

 Cowpokes were gambling
 And guzzling up their beer
 The women were  upstairs
 Their bosoms amply filled
  Waiting to give us all a thrill

 After a couple shots of whiskey
  A poker game I did seek
 Hoping I'd  soon be on a winning streak
 My luck was going good and 
 The cowpokes I was beating
 Until big Jim accused me of cheating

 A fight broke out and turned into a brawl
  Big Jim got hit, and took a mighty fall
 When it was all over I was still standing tall....
 The cattle would be rounded up tomorrow once again
 And I would be right there, ridin' on the plains

 1-26-2021
 Cowboy Poetry Contest
 Sponsor: Line Gauthier
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Phantom of the Past

A phantom chased me 
In the dark blue midnight;
My leg caught on the silk gown,
And I tumbled down the road. 
When the phantom got closer,
I could not see his face. 
Veiled in black he was;
But he called out my name
With such intensity,
That I knew at once, who 
The voice belonged to. 
I got back up and ran
Towards the mansion on the high hill;
The phantom stopped chasing me,
I thought I lost him.
I opened the cobwebbed doors;
They creaked and groaned in defiance. 
"Who's the intruder?"
Yelled someone from upstairs. 
"I'm lost and scared"
Replied I. 
There was nowhere to go,
So I spent the night on the floor;
I wasn't offered any food or drink,
Nor did I ever see the face of the owner. 
When the clock struck midnight,
I heard the doors groan again;
A single flame was approaching me,
I trembled and asked "Who is it?"
The face got closer to the flickering light
And there was my dead lover
"I've come to take you My Love";
Now the ghosts will be heard from the overhead mansion.

Premium Member The Christmas Surprise

Visiting right before Christmas Eve was her favorite Grandma Kay.
Her granddaughter did not notice any presents, but that was okay.
Just being with her grams was enough to delight Little Bitty Moll.
She had no idea the next day the delight she would find in her hall.

Grandma left a tiny suitcase and it had a spring lock.
Moll touched it and it opened, there was a ticking clock.
It had been made into a mini-dollhouse complete with welcome mat.
Grandma Kay! Grandma Kay! Moll yelled, her feet going pitty-pat.

Grandma Kay said “Glad you found it. It was left by Santa in the night.”
Moll said “why didn’t you wake me? I would have stayed out of sight.”
“Santa’s big gift is to be out of the way of children,” Grandma Kay said.
“It was much more delightful that you were snug, asleep in bed.”

Doll house had an upstairs, a downstairs, and a TV console, new.
Baby crib had lacy trimmings and master had Victorian roses too.
Santa is wise! Moll said to Grandma Kay, wondering about his identity.
Loving her doll house which was set up on a chest with a pot of tea.
Form: Rhyme


Reading Each Others Poetry - Virelai

Come friend, face-to-face
Partake and embrace
Welcome
To our neutral place
Beyond time and pace
We come
To regain lost grace
In unified space
Do come

Though our thoughts misled
Biased human dread
No hate
We will share our bread
Our poetries read
Relate
Debate common thread
Like water be spread
Translate

Agreement declares
Focus on repairs
With speed
We will share our wares
Use swords like ploughshares
No greed
Our Landlords upstairs
Deep in our affairs
Proceed



Date: 27/03/23
Write me a Virelai Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues

Date: 14/04/23
A Brian Strand Premiere No.1208 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
© W J Clarke  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Saw Johnny Cash In the Pub

Here comes a bit of blarney for you
I looked up and saw the boy named Stew
He was known for tall tales and lies.
One of those entertaining Irish guys.

Saw Johnny Cash at the pub just now.
He rode in on a donkey, or maybe a cow.
This was the tamest tale that he told.
Next he said he had found the leprechaun’s gold.

His tales were getting a bit better every year.
This was said by my aunt with the magic mirror.
See you later, said Stew, got to go to the parade.
“In Dublin probably!” yelled out the upstairs maid.

Johnny Cash came out of the tavern then.
He gave Stew a tweak under his chin.
Let’s go get that gold, so we can get to Dublin, okay?
The rest of us were totally blown away.
Form: Rhyme

During Infancy

During Infancy

During infancy the wires on 
the TVs, which transmit or 
get signals, were
 responsible for 
my fast brain growth at
4 weeks. My first words: declare to 
be true and 
affirmative. The metal pole leaning up against a 
backyard veranda square post gave off 
this comfy vibe that quickly made better my 
visual acuity, especially made better my 
depth perception. I could localise these sounds: 
taps dripping in 
my parents’ (I could hear their voices in the 
first two hours of life) ensuite, could hear taps dripping in 
the upstairs one too; the breathing of 
insects and rats and mice in 
the walls; the walls cracking in 
the attic; the life 
outside. I could sit without
any support, walk at 
two months, run with no 
effort or 
difficulty at 
3 months. I was the best at 
object permanence development. Turning my 
head 360 degrees was 
easy, too easy. My pupils dilated at 
3 weeks. Focus to 
new stimulus was 
award worthy, no 
doubt about it. Too was my 
habituation (lessened orientating response) to 
done again stimulus. Skipped 
babbling. Spoken language was 
ultra high. Not surprisingly, my 
temperamental individuality was, well, 
difficult. I wasn’t easy to 
deal with. Seldom I wasn’t fast to 
warm up. Bond to 
parents, grandparents, was 
ON and 
OFF secure, thus 
facilitate exploration was 
ON and OFF. ON and 
OFF separation anxiety. “Stranger Anxiety” on 
11 +.

Premium Member QUIET MUSIC OF THE HOLIDAYS

Midnight. 
Frost etches its score  
on every windowpane.  

Snowflakes land 
with the hush of a page  
turned in an old book.  

Inside, 
radiators hum an old hymn, 
off-key,  
while the tree stands 
mute
in its tinsel robe.  

Upstairs, 
a child turns in her sleep 
dreaming of 
sugarplums and sleds.
 
The tree exhales pine, 
needles brushing
the wrapped promises below.  

Ornaments sway on their hooks~  
tiny bells without tongues.

The fireplace crackles a low, 
steady bassline  
under murmured 
verses of gratitude.  

Footsteps soften in the hall, 
carrying cocoa, 
carrying sleep.  

The house settles deeper into the hush.

Christmas Eve leans in, 
holding its breath  
between the notes.

A Conversation With Jack Torrance

"Good day sir, I've been travelling and looking for a place to stay,
but I heard the Overlook Hotel is dull, all work and no play?"

"Come on in there's lots of rooms, more beautiful here than Florence,
Snowcapped mountain view ya know, nice to meet you, I'm Jack Torrance.
The Overlook is great you see, built sturdy with mortar and (Ku)bricks.
Besides, the roads are all snowed in, you'd be leaving at you're own risk."

"Well thank you Jack, I guess I'll stay, it is already past eleven.
I'll just head upstairs and get unpacked, room key, 237.
             ------------------------------------------------------
I was wondering why there seems to be bloodstains down the hall,
and why someone would think to write the word, REDRUM on my wall?"

"Oh don't mind that, it's just some kids, now go and get some grub.
And when you head back to your room don't mind the woman in the tub.
             --------------------------------------------------------
I came to get you for the big event , I knocked to nicely ask,
but you wouldn't come answer the door, so I chopped it open with my axe."

"Mr. Torrance you had startled me, I'm sorry if I ignored you,
but you yelled, Here's Johnny, chopped a hole, and stuck your head through!
This has been a bit unorthodox, I'd like to leave here if I can,
I won't be taking any more referrals from that Mr. Halloran."

"I'm really not so bad and if you stay we can surely have some fun.
I'll show you in a moment, Come on Danny! that's my son. 
It's just that all this writer's block, it puts me in a craze.
Let me make it up to you, come and play with us, in the maze....."


(Conversation with Jack Torrance of The Shining )
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