Long Weep Poems
Long Weep Poems. Below are the most popular long Weep by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Weep poems by poem length and keyword.
People in the queue, ask me
Why do I settle in solitude?
I do wonder sometime, that the world I belong
Has billions, able friends or foe.
Do I must continue solitudes?
As much as I love hiking in wilderness.
In my dreams or in my conscious mind,
I rather find one, that could never let me walk alone.
To me, solitude defines me.
seclusion is a retreat corner
Where my nightmare turns in to a burning oil.
Because, I talk, I weep, I reflect, all alone
Yes I survived, in solitude.
The reflection of my sorrow is
My submission to the one that I am accountable.
hitherto, I doubted, I lost hope in
Humanity, ever existed ?
Then I got back to the one that asked,
I said, sometime the four corners aren't always walled up
Still it is the dazzling star of all the stars.
Gleaming through the eye of every colours.
How many suns have I seen?
I hope I see thousands more.
But I don't want to lie awake,
begging for sleep, for puzzle-piece dreams,
crossed wires beneath my skin.
They spark and spasm down my side.
The tingling hurts, the cold converts
the numbness into pain.
I need more time to write, to rhyme.
I need more time to love.
I need more time to watch the sea
while sunsets bleed
and rain clouds weep
upon me from above.
Where's my unchained melody?
Where's my time to shine?
Don't cheat me out of time with him,
Don't rip me from his side.
Have you ever tasted metallic fear?
It feels heavy on my tongue.
I crave today
as I hear them say:
But, how...? She's so young.
All I was had vanished
Earased by God himself, as if I was never blessed
His gaze as harsh as arrows slit my thoat int two
Forever, I am cursed by God
To be imprisoned within my soul
My flesh turned againts me, suffocating me with my own hoarse weeps
My heart beats with wind, sweat soaking me
Finger nails get soaked in blood, not my own but Gods
His gaze as empty as heaven
My honor vanished, destroyed, humiliated I fell down from heaven
where I didn't belong
Where no one goes, I lie and weep with every cry becoming silent
Till my vocal cords are too weak to keep me crying
Till my face hurts too much to frown
Till my father God kills me with an arrow in my spine
Thought it might help me tonight
If I at here and just write
About how my life I've since lost sight
Don't know what to do anymore
Nothing seems right
Losing any and all strength here
I have no more might
Words can sometimes help heal
The wounds that had cut so deep
But these words aren't helping me here tonight
I feel like I must weep
But do you think tears coming down from my eyes that seep
Will be what helps me here
No it just causes more sadness
And more fear
I've successed at failing
And have failed at being a success
My life before wasn't my own to lead
Now my heart is lieing in wait
It's already began to bleed
For my heart will never be freed
For the love I have for someone
To which I don't know if he feels the same
He's the one I let get away
And now I live with that shame
You know who you are so I don't have to say your name
No the writing of these words tonight
Still didn't make anything I've done right
They didn't give me peace
They didn't let my mind by forever quiet
All that could only come from time spent with you
Funny what a few simply spoken words from you could do
For me
Before why couldn't we see
What we had been searching for all along
In everyone we met
We had right here in us
And we let time pass by like a phantom jet
God I miss you
Somewhere inside me it's saying
You are missing me to
I'm scared
Never had feelings like this before
Taken a hold of my heart, of my soul
This time we need not shut the door
Let our hearts be free and soar
Then these written words I would need no more
Goodbye Fall with all the auburn leaves of the reddest sunset,
goodbye crackling path where I met the last songbirds,
whose melody accompained me to winter's doors;
and with deep sadness I kept on looking back.
Welcome gloomy winter with short afternoons and long evenings;
watching the advancing shadows and loudly hearing
the furious sound of the squall rampaging the stately trees,
and making them weep when the icy rain comes down with lightining.
Sitting in a rattling, rocking chair, I peruse through pages of sunny places afar,
forgetting the dreariness of this frigid season and be consoled by a warm fire;
and still nostalgia abounds...thinking of the pleasant strolls of a past season,
which thrilled me with its colors, and through delight I justified my reason.
O winter, don't linger as you always have...shorten your stay, avoid foul play;
and could I ever stand a pale sun, hardly giving off with its luminiscence,
in this house hidden among the maples and the pines of a squalid valley?
Old winter, don't mislead me with days without snow...that's utter pretense!
Goodbye explorer fedora hat keeping my dreamer's head cool,
sparing my skin another ugly wrinkle, allowing late beauty to rule;
goodbye iced coffee sipped from my Big Apple plastic cup,
which I bought along Fifth Avenue in a crowded, variety shop.
Ummerciful winter, pity the desperate state I am in,
reduce the wrath of your devastation, step inside and to tell me your amazing tales...
hoping that I will write them down for everyone to read and enjoy for immortal ages;
relentless winter, reduce the dreariness of this frigid season.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Mind follows rote as calm poise knows,
Yield to fond feel of precious hope.
Pray and emote as faith now shows,
Reach that soul will that sculpts fine scope;
Align dear heart with grace most deep,
Yes love brings light where darkness clouds;
Embrace pure start with tears you weep,
Return to sight humble not proud.
Mantra blooms gaze with peace of mind,
Abide good sense in surge of blood;
Note awkward maze with cheer you find,
Touch living tense where impact floods;
Rise to the mood of cheer that fills,
Allow grand good to thus reveal.
Leon Enriquez
09 March 2016
Singapore
His eyesight was never 20/20…he’d worn glasses since he was three
but now, as he grew older, it was getting harder and harder to see.
They tried to make the best of this misfortune in their destiny…he said, “I guess my eyes have decided…they’ve seen all they want to see.”
“It’s not all bad.” She said, “accepting his embrace. “You’ll no longer be able to see all the wrinkles on my face.”
“And when you reach the point…where your eyes no longer see..when you need to find your way around…you can always lean on me.”
The old man smiled and said, “I will…and how lucky to be me…for I have so many things in life…I no longer need to see.”
“Take your love, for instance, it’s in everything you do and say…I no longer need to see it…when I feel it every day.”
“I don’t need to see your lips…once my eyes release their spark…for how often have I found them in the bedroom after dark?”
He took her face in his hands…he closed his eyes…he felt her tears
“Do now weep for me.” He said. “Save your worries…save your fears.”
“I may no longer see what’s in front of me…and though that seems unkind…I can still see within my memory every moment we left behind.”
As he gently felt her wrinkles…he said…I imagine there are some things I will miss…but but how can I be sad when I get to feel a face as beautiful as this?”
“When my eyes no longer see the light…I need you to understand…
I’ll still have 20/20 vision…only now…it’s shifted to my hands.”
“Your vision was never 20/20.” She smiled, “But if you’re going to use these hands to see…and they see the world half as good as your eyes did…that’s good enough for me.”
I am so proud of me and that is not conceit,
for I have crawled too many times from great despair;
climbing from dark pits of nothingness to defeat,
weep, weeping, whispering a heavenly prayer.
For I have crawled too many times from great despair,
I now use my learned skill of writing to let go;
weep, weeping, whispering a heavenly prayer,
sharing experiences caresses my woe.
I now use my learned skill of writing to let go,
dark death found me young taking my sister away;
sharing experiences caresses my woe,
my family just names engraved in a stone grey.
Dark death found me young taking my sister away,
I have been humbled and have found my sublime peace;
my family just names engraved in a stone grey,
but in my heart forever lost love has a piece.
I have been humbled and have found my sublime peace,
climbing from dark pits of nothingness of defeat;
but in my heart forever lost love has a piece,
I am so proud of me and that is not conceit.
______________________
January 24, 2021
Poetry/Pantoum/To Be Proud
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1323-491-24
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest Proud Pantoum
sponsor, Caren Krutsinger, Judged 27/02/2021
Third Place
You are mine ~ I am yours ~ in this together
Your heart and mine in synchrony they beat
Bequeathed One with thoughts that sync mine
Enlightened Souls in love ~ a conjoined feat
Overwhelmed with the throb of your heartbeat
A subtle flutter like a butterfly’s touch within
That stirs the very essence of my soul
and tickles goose bumps that creep upon my skin
In anticipation for your fingers to hold mine
Proclaim your entry with your first lusty cry
I’ll weep a mother’s tears of soulful joy
Soothing you with my own sweet lullaby
Till then ~ for now we bond as one to the other
An affinity in the unity of a child to its Mother
He cradles us in his arms ~ you respond to his touch
The completed circle with you ~ me ~ and your father
My poem is written to celebrate the coming event for a very special couple who are excitedly expecting their first little girl.
Video clip and music by - Colbie Caillat
In a twilight sculpted from granite, where stars shake off like autumn leaves,
I wander through the labyrinth of my mind, lost among the ruins of thoughts.
My love for life is but a pale flame, flickering against the winds of time,
And writing becomes my armor, gleaming in the dark like a lighthouse in the night.
I write to survive, each word is the blood coursing through my veins,
Each letter a step on an unknown path, each sentence deepening the mystery.
I strive to write well, to avoid the madness of spewing nonsense like a politician,
In a world where masks slip, revealing truths that sink into obscurity.
To the old banality, "Eat or die," I add "Eat and write or die,"
Writing is my act of worship, an altar built of paper and ink.
A veneration for creatures, landscapes, ideas that inspire and uplift me,
To commemorate the dead, to create new women to love, to cherish.
For I have always been a seeker, a dreamer, a contemplator of seeking and dreaming;
And who can say that such a nature does not open latent eyes, sensitive
To unimagined worlds, to unforeseen orders of being,
Where souls meet at the edge of the abyss, weaving webs of mystic melancholy.
In this stream of consciousness, I lose myself and find myself anew,
Thoughts flow like subterranean rivers, tumultuous and deep.
Each word a stone cast in water, with ripples widening,
Reaching forgotten shores, where dreams extinguish and revive in silence.
I write to be, to become, to understand,
I write to love, to weep, to laugh,
In a world that unravels and remakes itself,
In a world that breathes through every word born of mystic melancholy.