Long Us Poems

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


Immunity To a Death Sentence

Now the public library in our town contains the knowledge for mankind, 
and there’s not much happening ‘round the world, that I cannot find.
I can think of any subject that I like and tell Jenny what I’m after,
and she can find a stack of books that darn near touch the rafter. 

The library’s helped me countless times from days when I’m at school,
and I’ve become a handy man with books my back up tool,
but aside from books on lifestyle needs, on fiction some are geared,
and some authors write for little kids, and some write on the weird.

I’ve hired books about our history and read about some shocking wars.
Our garden is designed from books, and I’m obsessed with reading ‘Jaws’.
But crime became my new desire with cases filed from years gone by,
where Capital Punishment was handed down and why some had to die.

Description of the victims sent a chill right through my bones,
right to the guilty on death row with all their over-tones.
I read about their last few weeks, with how and why and where,
before they took their final walk to the electric chair.

One story written by a Warder based in a Southern US gaol,
is penned about a chilling case that for you I will unveil …
Leroy murdered seven folk; the warder wrote down in this book.
For twenty years appeals were held then Leroy’s goose was cooked.

When you’re with someone for twenty years, no matter what they’ve done,
you can form a slight attachment even if a fragile one.
So one week before that final stroll Leroy was asked by Warder Black,
if there’s something special that he’d like, and Leroy answered back.

“There is something I do desire - but it must involve me faithful wife.
“My wish is” Leroy grinned. “Is to eat her meatloaf now for life”. 
Well Leroy’s wish was granted and for three meals every day,
he ate the meatloaf that he begged for while the hours ticked away.

On the eve of Leroy’s execution there was tension being shown.
The corridors were creepy now with a ghostly eerie tone.
Forgotten were the seven victims - in the morning there’s one more.
Leroy must face ‘old sparky’ waiting down that corridor.

His final meal of meatloaf was brought before him on a plate.
Said Warder Black with teary eyes “You don’t look worried mate!”
Leroy laughed “I’m not my friend, that chair won’t kill me man.
If this meatloaf couldn’t do me in - I know that nothing can!”
Form: Rhyme


Pierrot Lives In Sorrow

The people surrounding me keep asking “why are you going back and forth uneasily on the empty stage shedding crocodile tears, and telling the stories of negative effects on others, though you are not of a man of faculty who is even able to produce a theory comparable to 'Blind Will of Universe', one of worst hypothesizes a man can think of.

It’s because though, 
when a worldly-minded snob shouts from a podium
“you should have a positive attitude,” while displaying 
his resume proudly with the title that is little-to-do with his personality,
his limited academic background that barely conceals the lack of intelligence, and insignificant accomplishment with somewhat concocted experience hiding his real being and thought, he receives respect from the audience who fascinated by every movement the snob makes in the form of applaud with standing ovation, I was always treated badly from audience, fed only by unwelcome astringent fruits of rejection and drink bitter tasting water sprang from unwanted rotten roots to quench my desire…

And that’s why the course of my reasoning became negative, 
and, as a natural consequence, no matter how often you may say 
to the audience “you ought to be a person of positive attitude,” 
since there are more negative aspects surrounding us than 
the positive elements, and that’s why I was accepted by 
others negatively. More importantly, I was treated negatively 
from others simply because reality goes before me. 

Although positive thinkers boast themselves as if their thoughts are
sound and healthy, by saying that the water in a cup is half full;
negative thinkers sigh with a defected air and say that a cup is 
half empty. However, it doesn’t make any difference how you think, 
men’s thoughts cannot surpass the physical phenomena
and, therefore, a half is a half, no more nor less than a half.  
In the boundary and limit is as such, whether you like it or not,
men have to go on the path of their own destiny.

Then, why does everyone has to have a positive attitude? I suppose, 
that is, not more than a writhe of the men who won’t admit reality 
in desperate agony. That’s the self-gratification of men 
who are not able to face the facts as they are.

[The irony is, nonetheless, man is able to bear and raise a baby 
by an act of self-gratification. It’s amazing, the world is a place 
full of wonders.]
© Su Ben  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Don'T Offer God Anything That Costs You Nothing

In order for us to redeem the time we need to give God our best 
and be willing to do all He asks as proof of where our faith rests
as it's not about how much you've given but has your faith been consistent
in offering all you have to God with a loving persistence
to be thankful when receiving any and all blessings that come from God
and responsible when you get them and holding them in the highest regards
but to offer anything to God that costs you nothing at all
is the difference between true sacrifice and just giving a lip call
for it's not about just talking the talk, it's about being willing to walk the walk

what motivates us? and what is in our hearts?
are two of the things that most concern our Lord God
to be about giving God your best, as He's the only one whom you need to address
there will be times of difficult instructions when you choose to follow His commands
there will be some hard choices to make that you may never come to understand
yes God will test you to determine your faithful resolve
but if you place your trust in Him some mysteries in your life may be solved
and when making a burnt offering to God it needs to be free and whole
coming from one's heart with the surrendering of one's soul
so never offer God anything that costs you nothing to give
remember it's only by His grace and mercy that you even live

Abraham was so faithful to God he was willing to offer his only son
his hope for the future, his heritage, his legacy now under the gun
about to slay his only son until the Angel of God appeared
and told him, "don't touch that child", for we know of God you now fear
he was willing to make the sacrifice and give all that from him God desired
no matter how hard, no matter how difficult to follow the instructions God inspired
hand God your hands and let Him have control
adhere to God's plans and surrender to Him your soul
trusting in what He instructs you to do
believing His blessings will then rain down on you

God has much in store for us when we follow His instructions
and will supply all our needs with His providential productions
His word is the pathway to promise and the roadway to righteousness
His love is the gateway to glory and the highway to holiness
so don't offer God anything that costs you nothing in life
for He made the greatest offer to you with the crucifixion of His son Jesus Christ

Our Love

Our Love

Our love, like hydrogen's bond,
Is the simplest, yet profound.
Like helium's lightness, we float,
In each other's arms, we bloat.

Lithium's fire ignites within,
A spark that's always been.
Beryllium's strength is our foundation,
A love built with determination.

Carbon's essence fuels our fire,
As we create our own empire.
Nitrogen's breath is in our lungs,
A love that never fails or slums.

Oxygen's embrace is like a kiss,
That fills our hearts with pure bliss.
Fluorine's passion is in our eyes,
A love that never tells lies.

Neon's light shines in our soul,
As we journey towards our goal.
Sodium's presence is always felt,
In the love we both have dealt.

Magnesium's spark has made us whole,
A love that's pure and full of soul.
Aluminum's bond is unbreakable,
A love that's true and unshakable.

Silicon's strength is in our mind,
As we journey and unwind.
Phosphorus's light guides our way,
Through the highs and lows of each day.

Sulfur's heat fuels our desire,
A love that's deep and won't expire.
Chlorine's essence is in our scent,
A love that's pure and innocent.

Argon's stability is in our heart,
A love that's never been apart.
Potassium's spark ignites our soul,
As we become each other's goal.

Calcium's bond is our foundation,
A love that's strong and never shaken.
Scandium's essence is in our will,
To love each other until.

Titanium's strength is in our being,
As we embrace and keep believing.
Vanadium's spark ignites our fire,
A love that's true and never a liar.

Chromium's bond is our connection,
A love that's deep and full of affection.
Iron's strength is in our love,
As we soar like an eagle above.

Nickel's essence is in our trust,
A love that's pure and never rusts.
Copper's spark ignites our passion,
A love that's strong and full of compassion.

Zinc's bond is our commitment,
A love that's true and never indifferent.
Silver's essence is in our purity,
A love that's deep and full of security.

Tin's spark ignites our flame,
A love that's pure and never lame.
Gold's bond is our unity,
A love that's strong and never petty.

Lead's essence is in our loyalty,
A love that's true and never disloyal.
Platinum's spark ignites our soul,
As we become each other's goal.

*_@Otieno Elvis Gikoi_*
*_30LettersToMyGirlfriend_*
*_THE ELO’S POETRY_*
*_ArtFromHeart_*

Silent Mission


  

Glass shattered Saturday afternoon tea for  S I L E N C E

holding steady raven momentum for its own  r i p p i n g
fire from heartbeat slashes its void to tumble wounds of 
wisdom weeping slow dirty tears of biting burns inserting 
into wordless flesh of waiting before window panes were 
smashed with stone docile ornaments, rampant afternoon 
unvoiced holding a blank white canvas for dripping 

bookshelves tumbled, poems torn to sheds, laundry strewn 
with glass splinters as lead, aphonics slithering into dried out 
stewpot waiting for maniacal tsunami to cremate emotions 
tweezer them from dna soiled in possessive prisons ridiculed  
Divinity spoke in all pervasive silence on testing timeline taut 
holding breath to His nostrils imbibing a billion frequencies
I chose to brave open His serene lips for unutterable  L O V E

lashes He crafted brushed breathy implicits with assent 
for missions of courage traversed embracing solitude 
observed in stillness whilst across eerie forest moss 
carpets I deciphered “They Don’t Care about Us” 
hush self wears a daisy cloak from heavenly dew fields 
luminosity unzips not as lies hop chaotic across 
spiderwebs it can chameleon transmute into gentle 
streams to soothe that which hides for right timing 
~ first bud of white rose birthing delicacy or benign 
waters over pebble backdrop quietude   

biscuit baker feeds jealousy, deceit, shame, guilt, indecision
escapism ~ swampy keys of stagnant quagmires will too utter 
her heart’s eclipsed light breaking egoic invisibility as 
softly I breathe her shadowed taciturn  s t e a l t h 

quiet petaling garment breaks open blackout mission
regurgitating quantum memories incubated in beckoning cell 
fertility for decades perhaps centuries, marching crusades of
soul conquering ancient lands, majestic mountains, raucous 
seas, ports, yellow spices, when women with babes gagged 
anguished longing for men to taste their honey in serenity
hot crusted bread speaking truths of labouring backs bent
cows chewing cherrywood cuds ~ what could be a more 
knowing   t r a n q u i l i t y  ?

now wafered soundlessness is lamb yet diamond piercing 
raw, a lark offers sotto tones as harmony cupped in two 
musing wings to ascend where it can quintessentially 
quiver, hover in expectant repose for another silent mission


Premium Member A Tipping Balance




The song of my soul, sounds like light
fading shadows in notes of joy
serenity unfolding on the hearts of glory
where He lives – in the dewlike tears,
overwhelming sense of grace
pouring over the bruised seas, skies
flooded by prayers and praise….

The stories of God – His amazing
the tones of our praise
on the rhythms of soundless nights
skies pouring out hope, joy
blessings arising in the heat of summer
while gentling melodies, rich with light
fall like noon’s showers,
on the heavy hearts, the souls
who know He is the reason for each season
He is the love that rises from the mists,
in every soul, He is the promise, the hope
the moment we can know
love is in control…

the music, in notes of purity
rare songs who remember to hold on,
love like this is the light for every man,
love like this is beyond words
it is the plan, brought to hearts
long before the world began,
love like this is the reason I breathe
the story of a man who heard God’s plan
and came to earth, through a virgin birth,
restored each of us – by His death,
rising again, fulfilling that plan…

we can seek Him in the flowers
we can seek Him in the trees
we can seek Him in the sunlight,
on the trembling seas,
we can seek Him on the twilight
on the stars and in the moon
we can seek Him in each spring,
each summer and each autumn, too,
we can seek Him…

yet we will not find Him
without a heart that is assured
He is the way to heaven
He is the light, the way and truth
He is the life of every believer
He is the love that guides us through
He is the answer to every need
He is the prayer prayed 
and the assurance believed
He is a tipping balance
who offers us His never ending peace!

Cling to Him when you feel lonely
Cling when you feel like you can’t 
Cling when the way is dark with shadows
Cling when you know that you’ve failed
Cling when sins seem to haunt you
Cling when the journey is steep
Cling when all seems lost to you
Cling and just believe – He is a tipping balance
With Him, you will find the purpose of this life
With Him, you will know what it is to be free
With Him, you will be saved from outer darkness
With Him, you will be changed so you can…

let go and let God, who is only a prayer away
seek Him and let Him bless your life with His grace
let Him restore you to a place where you know love is the only way!

Illusion

And this picture on the wall of my heart told a story of men giving birth  among themselves in the north promiscuously...
Sipping memories from the lungs of the  girl child. 
They were not ashamed of the little ones watching their nakedness which howled at them mannerlessly. 
We bathed the oceans again and again,
We made the sand shone like the moon,
We washed the sky daily to see clearly of what the earth has in stock for us. 
We painted the earth and added more colours to the chirping rainbow. 
Life became wet in our palms because we saw images and figurines of women  whose shinning womb were made abnormal  by men of yesterday. 


And mother told of an innocent girl that killed her father, mother and brothers, 
She was patted by the king for doing so, 
As she told this ear breaking tale,
we saw the rain emerged from the ground instead of the lonely idle cloud that watched us through different mirrors. 
They said we'll live forever on paradise, 
They said there is heaven and hell, 
They said evil people will be punished on the last day, 
They said we will burn for thousand years, 
But how could a father punish his children with fire and brimstone?
How could spirit burn in a fire? 
How could we tell lie to ourselves and expect the sun not against us? 
We have seen cock making love to a duck and, dog to a cat, and grandma told us it was normal. 


And Father told of the miseries of  the black spirit in our village streams, 
How pouring of libation on the family shrine brings good wife and good harvest, 
how rubbing oil and wearing palmfrond on your lips wad away demons.
he said there is a third heaven above us, 
He told us why the He goat smells, 
He said white ghosts do fly day time; he has seen the flashes of one of them at Benin. 
After Christopher, I creed, 
After Achebe I loved again
After Seghor
After Wole and Niyi' folklores,
After Habila Helon,
After Chimamanda's truths, 
We'll retrace this fables with a knitted thought towards strings of our voices. 
How does the patient dog eat the fattest bone now? 
Does the silent cock still live for a lifetime? 


Mother lied to us
Father lied to us
Grandma lied to us
Grandpa lied also
A mirage formed
Teachers lied to us
An illusion created 
We are not who we are through those illusion told to us through their lips. 


Yours Poetically,  
©John Chizoba Vincent.

The Ugliest Poem

The worlds Ugliest Poem

Think chaos will become the new norm
in this world where life and words are cheap
think there'll be bodies littering the streets
and blood rolling into the gutters
from people killing their neighbors
just to get a little something to eat
and a place to lay their heads at night to sleep
think their'll be rioting all around
scorched earth the only ground
will we cry out unto God
or will we simply blame him
I wonder what things will be like
for the innocent little children
Oh how I wish we could stop right now
before anything like this happens
and it happens
yeah, it happens
mostly in war torn nations
and those that are so very poor
and what makes any of us think that we are better than them
think our nation is not filled to the brim
it could happen
yeah, it'll probably happen
because we don't know how to live
and our ministers preach personal salvation
how can we inherit the kingdom of heaven
if we forsake our own nation
or are we forsaken
by the leaders that we trust
are they are part of us
or have they become so rich and full of pride
that it's time to knock them down to size
before this happens
because it happens
Oh my God have mercy
for I fear this time there'll be no place to hide
here I sit writing and typing
it's all I can do all balled up inside
filled with fear and anxiety
and I type and type and I type
striving to warm them and explain to them why
yet it seems all of my words are in vain
it's as if
my work is little more than a strange curiosity
and sometimes I wonder if it's me or the world that's insane
they prefer lies so nice
I guess it makes them feel like everything is OK
don't lift the Vail or just might see me
and who wants to believe that their'll be hell to pay
for all the children starving in the streets
that have no place to stay
all dirty and full of disease
how can we turn them away
and some of these are angels
think they can hear you pray
at night before you go to sleep
without worry or pain
it happens
yeah, it happens
and it could happen to you
think your life is fool proof
I wonder if chaos will be the new norm
I wonder if it already is
at least to some extent
cancer is on the rise
and how can we possibly fix this
maybe I just worry to much
maybe I should just turn on the TV
and watch something fun
while it happens
yeah, while it happens
© Mark Beal  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Jet Lag

I see him stumbling around looking for something to hold on to but there was nothing there except the open thin air and a bunch of bureaucrats wearing thin frocks walking around on wet grass with fake greetings and a forced smile that caught us by surprise. 

Bob has been in the news and this has left everyone confused he is running for office again, midths the barrage of criticism running down his spine weakening his legs and making him look like the walking dead. At first, he looks like a robot coming out of a hut, and then it appears like a man in despair. There was no one around to cover him except for gravity and his own sanity. 

Bob is fun to be around but this time his attitude makes me frown, he does some weird things, like walking with his nose pointed in the air and use his finger to show you the clock.  

Sometimes he is agitated and his temper cuts deep causing everyone to proceed with caution while he rolls the dice and shuffles the cards. He is a nice person to be around but the mood swings will drag you down; yesterday I invited him for tea, we had a small talk and it left my aunt weeping in the dark, what is really going on with Bob?  

Bob is a very good man but sometimes he looks very sad; he has a very tight schedule and attends more than ten meeting in a given day, heaven knows how he stands up while going through the gate.

 He knows his work quite well and he can talk up a storm from hell and still remain true. I watched him come and go and how he presents himself while he rides the big ship, and the ceremony he attended with the mercenaries hiding in the bushes and the guard of honor marching every hour to pay their respect to Bob.  

He wasn’t quite in it, he was always looking for something to hold on to but the air propels him along and John, his closest friend, stood next to him and pushes him on. 

I could sense a silent annoyance rising up in john’s emotions, as he reached for support while climbing the steps. He attempts to hold john several times from his back but John shrugs and show him the way with a polite gesture. 

They and had a cup of tea towards the end, and spend some time feeling out each other. What was said, I really don’t know but the cluster bombs exploded and close that chapter. The tennis match was a blessing in disguise, and it is an indication of how the story will end, I love happy endings.

The Milestone

The bay and titian milestone 
calls the universe 
On everything we have to remember 
2019 we met in joy
Raw in our hearts 
We gathered in love
Humble without pride 
We spoke in a voice 
They called us golden ones 
Oh yes! Golden ones. 

After the last quarter 
A strange duster appeared 
And erased Gift out of the list 
Many emotions were bitter 
Just like me 
That pended the elite Supper

Chronically, we arrived 2020
Which showed advances on arrival 
The stretching chain started breaking 
Everyone chose the birds they flocked with 
Classic pride developed its wig 
From the humble hearts 
Everyone real colour start revealing 
Like the rising sun in the morn. 

Just a sudden 
The world was attacked by Emperor'19
Everywhere was shut,
Everyone's lovers were distanced 
Nations dropped like flies
Love, value and unity quenched 
New fishes entered the friendship oceans of our comrades
In the pandemic period we experienced.

In 2021 we met again as earlier as expected 
As there were different faces, such were different shoulders. 
Everyone  focused on its target 
The class attendance dropped like a weighless scale. 
Many break, many strike 
Affect the 2021 journey.

Just like a flowing stream
The heaven sea journey to the left side
Gave the picture of the sun 
Traveling from the North to West.
Days in, days out
There was not a single day without a memory
As we all gathered for the new 2022.

2022 was the year of planting fame
Many people worked to be recognized 
The birds changed their groups 
Everyone humbled again
Trying to move up a bit 
As the result of the shock 
From the previous exams.

'Just like yesterday 
'I was a fresher 
'Today I am an FYB'
That was everyone's comment 
When we met ourselves 
In the final level of the journey 
In the 2022 summer months.

Despite the four years journey's metamorphosed 
Into five years journey with hard stress 
Joy crowned our hearts because everything is closer 
We accepted to involve in the final stress 
That has a short time
But so dismal, Lilly fell from the train 
Almost at the bus stop.

Now on our table 
We cheers to the love that we have got
Toast to the one that we lost on the way
The toast goes to every able that can read this;
And remember the memories we've been through
Which the bay and titian milestone 
Has called us to remember.

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