Long Vacancy Poems
Long Vacancy Poems. Below are the most popular long Vacancy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vacancy poems by poem length and keyword.
Five years come and gone without your heart on the line.
Your voice has almost chased away all the sanity left in my brain.
Somehow you take up residence where there is a "no vacancy" sign.
It still fathoms me at how easy this all was for you to feign.
I am so tired of trying to understand all these childish notions.
True love is and always will be nothing more than a fairy tale.
I may have had better luck had I used Tarot cards and potions.
To grieve for our horrible marriage I shall wear the blackest veil.
It seems as if I was a wife, but you were never ready to do your part.
You can't have it both ways, either choose the wrong way or the right.
Why doesn't it feel wrong to you to toy with another person's heart?
A marriage takes work from each partner and I no longer wish to fight.
I thought this was forever and I loved you more than you'll ever know.
You turned the once warm feelings I had for you to hard stone.
I am no longer in love with you and I'm sorry I now have to let you go.
Sadly, as I always suspected I was in this marriage all alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For over two decades, my husband and I taught in Fabens, Texas, a small border community southeast of El Paso, Texas. Teaching in a border community was hard and required a certain amout of Texas grit. By spring break, we were spent and exhausted. So, a group of us teachers looked for a place where we could escape, gain perspective, and rejuvenate before the final stretch of the school year. We loaded up an SUV and made the three-hour drive from El Paso to Marfa, Texas, calling our journey Pilgrimage to Marfa.
The sun bleaches bones of old Chevys
parked like tombstones
behind the Hotel Paisano~
Marfa doesn’t rush.
Even spring break
is a slow unraveling,
a dust devil spinning
nothing but its own restless heat.
Marfa doesn’t care
that we came here to escape~
only that we did,
barefooted down a gravel road,
dust rising like slow applause.
We wander through town,
the desert swallowing us whole
in its pink-lit throat~
A tumbleweed rolls
through the motel pool,
chlorine-green and half-drained,
while the neon sign blinks:
Vacancy or Mirage?
At dusk, we drive gravel roads
chasing the Marfa lights—
not UFOs, just the desert exhaling
what we can’t explain.
Yet, we half-believe in something out here~
the Marfa Ghost Lights,
the way the highway stretches
like a long, lazy promise
The stars here don’t twinkle.
They stab.
When the wind lifts a skirt of sand
over the highway’s cracked lips,
we all pause, feeling
suddenly holy,
suddenly small.
The lips can tell a story, or wear a mask of stone,
But the eyes reveal the secrets that the heart has always known.
I’ve stood within the shadows where the light begins to thin,
And watched a dying man look out as the shade was drawing in.
I saw the color surrender, a quiet, fading gray,
As the life poured out like water and the person slipped away.
No words could bridge the distance, no prayer could halt the tide,
Just the heavy, hollow silence of the vacancy inside.
I’ve found the lost and searching, in the cold and frantic night,
Reaching for a tether, or a glimpse of something right.
Their eyes were wild and wandering, tied to a fading thread,
Searching for a roadmap through the static in their head.
In the hallways of the hurting, where the struggling find their seat,
I see them shield their vision from the people that they meet.
They look away to hide the salt, the weight of all the fears,
Hoping no one sees the truth within their heartfelt tears.
But I have seen the flip side—the fire and the bloom,
The lightning of a mother’s love that fills a sterile room.
I’ve seen it in my children, in the deep and steady glow,
The kind of light that only hearts in pure surrender know.
I’ve seen the spark of triumph in the one who stood alone,
Who carved a path of victory from a mountain made of stone.
The gaze is never lying; it’s the mirror of the years,
Reflecting every hard-won joy and all the silent fears.
So let the world keep talking, let them whisper, let them lie,
But the truth is written clearly in the language of the eye.
I notice every shadow, and I keep each golden ray,
The haunting and the healing that I’ve gathered on the way.
For when the shift is over and the city’s finally still,
I see the faces of the past against my own free will.
They linger in the mirror—the lost, the loved, the brave—
Holding tight the memories of the ones I couldn’t save.
I’ve felt the vacancy that darkness brings
Every bit and piece, all the little things
Lost reality, the great stall of time
Wishes forfeit, without proper rhyme
Thoughts left unclaimed, chaos without order
Misguided dreams of a nightmare hoarder
Could a wish come true if worded just right
Why do they vanish with the ending of night
Deceit is conjured in the depths of the mind
It searches for answers that it will never find
A prankster of sorts, its skits are in vain
Its only truth is bringing you pain
Maybe tomorrow as a new sunrise comes
Impulse will surge, from some new found crumbs
Don’t give up on love or dismiss your desire
Lightning might strike and relite your fire
Government uses foreign gov-loophole
and harlots by proxies geo-fence by proximity.
Old bedfellow with Politicians and 3 letter agency,
no surprise there.
Garland and Wray want your push notifications
to complete your dossier profile picture,
wants FEMA camp for detention, el Permanente, Draconian Fair for opposers no expense spared.
In this world of shadows and gray,
Find no solace in bad actors that fray, that "go there". Reward your California delusionals to higher Office.
The cocaine White House likes your way,
and cocaine and curriculum de orifices and cocaine
(yes, I went there).
Newsome; Your state has run out of U-Hauls to leave.
Maybe parents are tired of your oprn-wife stalking their children with innocence killer-materials or "The Hood" curriculum deputy of the Interior. You have the worst education results in the entire World, Pizza Steve!
Maybe just this one addition/critique, add a syringe to the school/library books cover sleeve?
You certainly are bold.
Your intent is obvious to me.
You want Americans out, for China to No Vacancy.
World's largest real estate broker, licensed by DNC.
Most brilliant masterminds could not destroy
what you destroyed, and they work for the DNC!
That is why you are their candidate, confidentiality.
"Despicable Me" may just use your exploits
in their next movie.
But Mayorkas, M-Vanilli, Garland, Biden and Cortez are still building their destruction resumes.
But watch out ! Biden has sold out our entire Country! Is that why you are running for President?!
Ah yes, I see.
And you know what? This was supposed to be about Push Notifications and Warrants of Geo-Fencing !
I am the distance between one pole and the other;
I am the space between our lips,
The air that we forget to breath.
Life here is full of vacancy and unkempt homes.
Still smoke lingers in this space we call our own,
Never changing the draft or the force of the flow.
We are like death in walking pose
A mirage of living souls.
Hope would never live in such a place,
So destitute and so desperately so alone.
Here you must sit quietly
Careful not to disrupt the sound of suffering.
We need to hear those cries,
We need to know all about such a deep despair.
If you will not learn to come closer to one another
You will live here to one day, listening to such songs.
There is a voice one can't hear
it comes in many a dimension
at times it's really extremely loud
confronting one with all kinds of tension
In your mind causing such distrust
though not verbal it's still very clear
creating a real message in your grey cells
vibrant imaginative what's this you hear
The human being doesn't like silence
it makes them afraid of deep within
there they discover a conscience so true
convicting one what generations past called sin
Silence leaves such total vacancy
this world doesn't have the means to fill
only the one who created all things
has what's needed so in his presence be still
This God created this silence among his all
eternity is his abode past present and future
learn to heed this voice's word for you
for if not he'll not forget that's for sure!
The wind picks up across Small Bay,
it whips the sand against my face.
The kitesurfers in bright array
are carving lines through salty space.
A crowd of families line the shore,
their children's shouts like distant bells,
while Table Mountain, ancient core,
stands watch above the crashing swells.
I watch the bathers, brave and bold,
who dive into the icy deep.
I join them in the biting cold,
but feel my spirit's heavy sleep.
I plunge beneath the frothy white,
just going through the motions there.
A ghost beneath the surface light,
with salt crust tangled in my eyes and hair.
I slowly walk across the cooling sand,
the Western sky a fiery bloom;
To join the others on the strand,
and dispel this encroaching gloom.
But as I reach to touch a hand,
my fingers pass through vacancy;
The bay is still, the water's grand,
and I am all that's left of me.
I hope he makes you feel at home
hope it’s sweet when he’s singing you songs
I’m sorry I choked chewing on
my own tongue for too long
You’ve moved out
and moved on
Making vacancy space inside my arms
but there’s something I’m still clung on
Vagabond who can’t wander on
or let go of that glimmer of home
I wasn’t living in love
but I was somewhere so close
Does he listen when you’re silent?
Does he watch you as you sleep?
Is it everything we were supposed to have?
I can’t help but feel like the trick’s on me
You said
he makes you feel
like magic.
and I transcended, disappearing from the picture
as I imagined your passion
watched
my love story
col lapse
in
to
trag
edy
in a second
and a half.
In NYC where cardboard boxes and bums come from
In the comfort of his brown paper home
The smelly old man sleeps on a concrete ground of cold
Snores alone like a train in heat
Unaware of his left eye detaching to leave
A vacancy sign behind the socket is left, not worth reading
An eye rolling down the highway is strange
Pretending to be a traffic signal is suspicious
Blinking green then yellow is clearly disgusting
Disguised in red makes it downright criminal
Obscene and not very nice indeed
Children want to play marbles
The eye is wiser than you think
Seeing everything through a glass darkly
As it rolls away smartly unseen