Long Weight Poems
Long Weight Poems. Below are the most popular long Weight by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Weight poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: June 07, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
********************
The Phantom Choir
In the quiescence of last Sunday,
Prophecy heralded the hour past two,
I heard a whisper at hibiscus dawn—
a seamless voice I swore I always knew.
In blissful flutter—it said night was wide,
Chrysalis sorrow stirs a bed for fools,
that in the hush, when hearts collide,
The lost willows are left to wade in pools.
Facing the kernel until the street thinned,
And my shadow’s sepals bled away,
Rusted voice strings within me spoke again—
It's hymn frills poised for slow decay.
The Hollow Pact
Will I wake to descry my cracked mind,
emptied of all its sharpened teeth?
Will murky echoes break their binds,
Or gnaw beneath the sheath?
The alchemy battle sparks, but I am dust—
wispy strands, a soldier tied in flimsy chains.
Each idea erodes the periwinkle ones I trust,
while the weight of stress remains.
You graze me with a maze—why do I stand so still?
Resurrection of the soul—so why shake your hands?
But dread can have its way to fulfill—
The transcendence of love is lost in vicious demands.
The Third Mourning
Wise chakras buried beneath the walls I built,
the zen voice still scrawls its wordless plea.
It concedes my yantra’s vulnerability, my guilt,
peers where peacock pleadings wane into a spree.
It hums inside the tremors of sapphire light,
I close my eyes as it runs over lily-filled shorelines.
Bits of lunar-glazed silver dust grow in quiet nights,
and procrastinated pledges become lies.
In my dour dreams, it tells me not to resist—
“You know that silken shivers favor sound.”
Amid cyan azure peace, I learn misery persists,
for flickers of love fear the burial mound.
The Acoustic Waltz
In nocturnal dryness—sing soft verses in the dark,
claims the enamored inked words are not hers.
She plucks cerulean hymns without leaving a mark,
The tune of her carved kohl was lost in slurs.
She sways in the russet yarns of neon glow,
bows beneath the ricochet’s wild haze—
a phantom waltz in katabatic motion, moving slow.
a cosmic voice garden, too faint to truly be a maze.
Her pocket holds a ring of black gem glass,
won as a child’s dare, a piece of smitten ink.
She warms it, sighs, and watches it pass
through flaming flecks—hands that fight to sink.
“It's not that we cant see the solution; it's that we cant see the problem” - G.K. Chesterton
It's all so crazy
The perception of our society
Are we blind; are we ignorant?
Perhaps what will be, will be
It's not that we can’t see the solution
It seems so obvious - so clear
But when you look beneath the surface
The reality - I think that's what we really fear
We think that food is a problem
With obesity at an all time high
The truth - obesity Is a symptom
Yet, we continually close our eyes
Over half of America
Is over weight or obese
It's the leading cause of preventable deaths
However; it's not what we eat
It's what's eating us
During our days and our nights
Its the voice in our head
That tells us things aren't quite right
Food doesn't kill people
It's similar to gun control
30,000 violent deaths per year
I bet here's a fact you don't know
Of the 30,000 violent deaths
18,000 are suicides
You're right - guns do kill people
But we never ask people why they want to die
The solutions may seem clear
But stress, anxiety, and fear still remains
It's not food or the guns
That elicit the majority of life's pain
So let's have a drink
That will help us to relax and unwind
Here, have another
It's a sophisticated red wine
According to a National Survey
86 percent reportedly drink
26 percent binge
That's a lot don't you think?
An estimated 88,000 people
Die from alcohol-related causes per year
It's the third leading preventable cause of death in the United States
The solution? - address, don't try to drink away what you fear
So what's the real problem?
Here, I'll take the sacrificial dive
I'll use logic and reason
A method we use in other areas of our lives
It's not eating or drinking
That’s causing our pain
In modernity
It's the mental health of our brain
It's what we value
It's who we choose to idolize
It's the trivially matters
The distorted sense of self we despise
When we learn to face facts
Prioritize what we do
When we value virtue
Compassion manifest - love will carry us through
We’ll choose take smaller bites
Have one drink to unwind
We’ll have a gun for protection
Moderation - the Golden rule still applies
It's not that we can’t see the problem
It’s that we won't look at the disease
The solution?
Address mental health - please
Yesterday she killed herself by hanging from the ceiling
It carried her weight but she could not
She was everyday troubled by the future worries
All she wanted a good tight sleep, away from all the distress and depression
Hence she ultimately chose to sleep forever leaving just a small note behind
Note to thank her parents for taking care of her
For bringing her to this beautiful world
Note to thank her brother for making her smile
For engaging her in his little games which took away the sorrow for some seconds.
It was not an easy step
It was a step she always wanted to avoid
but couldn’t.
It was not a sudden random step but the one which was very carefully choosen
A step taken by fighting her own thoughts
Fighting her own body
But she chose it
Chose it to completely end
Completely end not only her life
but also her grievances and torments
She fought, fought with the whole world
But at last lost
Maybe she was afraid of getting called a failure
A word which bothered her, haunted her
A word which affected her so deeply that she chose to end herself
A word which terrified her more than death
From getting straight A’s to barely passing her tests
From loving to communicate with everyone to barely speaking to her own parents
From being extrovert to introvert
From loving colours to attaching to black
A colour which she hated but now loved like hell
From having several friends to none by her side
She saw all....
She felt everyting but never expressed.
She tried, tried very hard to make her parents proud, tried every possible way to please them but couldn’t
Her parents gave her all happiness
She got everything she wanted
Her parents barely bought for themselves
But always got the best for her
They spent their hard earned money like water for her smile
But she was not able to make them proud
She was not able to meet up with their silent expectations
No they never forced or pressurized her
They always supported her
But she a overthinker could not see her parents working hard, neglecting their health for her while she could not even make them smile.
No she doesn’t blame anyone for her...
She blamed herself
She thought of herself as a complete failure
A disgrace for her family
A frustrated, defeated and born loser
Incompetent and disappointment
And she left the world with a
smile on her tender face....
Greeted by the multi-lit display
draped over the hedges
and the railing of our front porch,
the brilliant lit Christmas tree
winks at us, welcoming us home
from the Christmas Eve Mass.
You settle comfortably in your chair
as I walk into the dining room.
Sitting down, I light the lone candle
on the table and contemplate
its flame, dancing and whirling
in the darkened room.
The flame draws me
into its story.
Its bright yellow light
thinly framed in blue,
speaks to me about
many dark places
penetrated by its light:
caverns and street corners,
vast fields and mighty forests,
tall buildings and small homes,
and the darkest place of all
… the human heart.
The flame tells the story
of a long time ago,
of a world enveloped
in the darkest of nights.
Violence and cruelty,
poverty and pestilence
heaped upon a brutalized,
battered and lost humanity.
In a miserable stable,
its walls and floor painted
in manure and straw,
the dark dank smell of
wet hay, and its livestock denizens
filling the air, there lies
in a feed trough a light more brilliant
than the dancing flame.
The flame of that light
dances in the eyes
of his homeless parents,
his mother who birthed him,
and his proud, protective father.
The light is reflected
in the eyes of the animals
shuffling about in their stalls,
and in the eyes of the shepherds
and the travelers from afar.
My gaze, fixed on the flame,
widens as I detect
other shadowy shapes
around the table.
I sit in communion with
my father and my mother,
my sister and my brother,
their lives, like others,
lived in various degrees
of perfection and imperfection,
drawn to this light whilst alive,
and now in the life beyond,
join with me transfixed
by the light of the candle.
I smile to be once again
in their company, and,
with a nod and a parting glance
their shapes slip back
into the shadows of the room.
Once more alone with the light,
an image forms in my mind,
that eternal light birthed
in Bethlehem so long ago,
which danced in the eyes
of Mary and Joseph,
in the eyes and hearts
of many burdened by the weight
of scandal and shame,
poverty and despair,
which the world was unable
to crush and snuff out,
this light will always be there
to guide and to light me
through the dark corners
of my life yet to be,
to the eternal Christmas awaiting me.
What was missing in my life?
You!
I lived many years without you,
not knowing what I was missing.
One day a surprise came to us
at an unexpected late- in- life date,
it was a baby boy.
He smiled at us with blue eyes
and bald little head,
and we were complete.
I treasured the cuddly feel of you,
fitting into my arms so well,
your weight seemed just right,
to pack you around every day,
even as you grew and grew.
You added an element to my life
that had been missing.
I now learned to slow down,
stop at playgrounds, push your swing
and sit in the one next to yours,
leaning back, looking up into
the crowns of swaying trees.
Taking walks, delighting in gathering fallen
red maple leaves, watching bugs
and birds.
Frogs and crawdads appeared in our bathtub,
I emptied your pockets while doing the wash
of rocks, seashells, dried katidid shells,
sticks and marbles.
I learned that stepping on jacks
at night while going to the bathroom hurts.
On your first fishing trip you accidently hooked a duck
and cried because you thought you hurt it.
I already knew of your compassionate heart.
You and I laughed and cried watching " Free Willy,"
"The fox and the hound" and "Alladin."
You brought joy to my life.
I learned that it is exciting to watch you play soccer,
I cheered and hooted and watched from the bleechers,
while you ran your little heart out,
I watched for signs of your asthma acting up,
but luckily you seem to outrun it.
On the first Halloween you were a little
smiling pumpkin that I pushed in the stroller,
but soon you were running with your buddies,
dragging a pillow case filled with candy,
and I had to scurry to keep up with you.
On your first day of school I was nervous,
I had to leave you with strangers.
Several of us Moms were hanging around the hallway
peeping into the door's little window,
until they made us leave.
Then came field trips, help with homework,
I was "room mother" to be near you and help,
and visited you in the cafeteria at lunchtime
on "Parent's day."
Suddenly, you are taller that me!
The braces came off, and you have a summer job,
and you are very good with it, I am proud of you.
You now have a Highschool Diploma and
are getting your driver's licence,
but you will always be my little boy,
and I will love you forever.
Love, Mom
...A child who’d never know a father
that had deserved him more than she could tell,
knowing that she must lie to her husband,
the truth of it would not end very well.
The moments when she should feel only joy,
she just felt despair she could not avoid.
The weight of it all pushed Whitney to drink,
she hid it well, since Jerry worked a lot,
the au pair did most care for the baby,
since inside Whitney was nagged by dark thoughts,
she’d see her youngest, and think of her loss,
then call the au pair, and hand the babe off.
This pattern went on for about a year,
all of her family noticed the grim mood,
Jerry did his best to cater to her,
but despite this Whitney didn’t improve,
when, despite her kids, everything seemed wrong,
when in her own life she didn’t belong.
It wasn’t suicide that claimed Whitney,
at least it was not the conscious sort,
it came when she’d exhausted her wine,
and without a thought, went out to the store,
far enough gone that she didn’t realize
that she had no business trying to drive.
Her car was found at the base of a bridge,
she gone so fast she’d burst through the guard rail,
the coroner said she’d died in impact,
when Jerry heard of the news he just wailed,
he may not have held the love of his wife,
but to him she’d been the love of his life.
JERRY
Jerry found himself in a trying place,
alone with three children, one of them young,
working full time to keep everyone fed,
without nannies he would get nothing done.
But even then, his children were depressed,
not understanding the whole of this mess.
He’d never been an emotional man,
but he tried his best to be there for them,
especially their one-year old baby,
who, of course, needed so much attention,
Jerry’s hair turned gray trying to keep up,
and he was still mourning for his lost love.
He managed to find some sort of balance,
some way to keep his kids going through this,
they were the only good this he had left,
the only reason he cared to persist,
alone he had little time for himself,
it did take a toll on his mental health.
He’d no time for dating, didn’t want to,
it still hurt too much to not see Whitney,
all his time was spent with his three children,
there was none left for fun or for hobbies,
Jerry felt himself a shell of a man,
everything was struggle, there was no more plan...
CONTINUES IN PART V.
Let not the pain of death enter my body
I the Pharaoh, son of the gods
Here my wife, who is the daughter of the Nile
The daughter of Isis sits beside my throne,
Is she not beautiful?
I live and roam the abode of the gods,
In eternity I stay with the majesties
Of the immortal gods
Mortality has no hold of me
I alone carry the staff of Osiris,
Behold! I judge thy weight of the heart,
With that of the golden feather
Thoth that measures thy heart shall tell me of thy heart’s content.
If I find thy heart lighter than the feather;
And find thy honesty,
I shall let you enter the heaven of the gods and goddesses.
If not, then, a beast to devour thee, waits for the dishonest.
Know me by my throne, made of gold
I am cloth with ornaments made of jade and sapphire,
White silk of clothing, with jewels from faraway lands.
Anyone that dear look down upon me shall die
And those that despise me, shall fine their homes burned down,
with fires from heaven.
Who am I? I have asked thee
Look at Anubis, the son of Nephthys bringer of death.
Do you await him to bring me great sorrow?
Shall he warp me with a yard of cloth?
Shall I find peace in death and my fate be judge by him?
If so, I have a place among them.
My afterlife is in paradise, their awaits a bundle of joy
With music of the immortal, with harps, lutes, lyres
And servants to tend to my every need.
But even if I die, the weight of mine own heart, shall be as light as a feather.
For I know mine own honesty.
As I sail across the sandbank of Apophis,
I have my guide, Ra, the god of the sun to light my path
No monstrous serpent of chaos shall wreck his boat,
The boat in which, I am in.
So, I ask thee, traveler from the west
What is thy business with a god?
Look at my palace, is it not magnificent?
Has is not, the decoration and flowers that surpasses all human designs?
I have built these with rocks
Sands was the foundation of my legacy,
Shall all things compare to that of the past days?
I carry the burden of my glory, and yes, it is heavy.
But will such foundation as the sand be strong enough to hold against the tide?
Love is abiding that is true, but only in those who welcomes it.
My love for my beautiful wife, oh! How well have I been treated
With love from her is better than any pleasure a man can have.
Faithful to the gods or my wife? That I know not.
I stayed awake all night listening to the sounds fighting with the night and battle raging in the street erupting my heart beat, one bad news after the other the body lie waiting in the gutter and the morning crowd kept walking on without a music or a song, and I said to myself what on earth is going on?
It is the question you usually hear when the dogs’ barks late at nights and the stars over your head are shining brightly and hope looks at you from the window. You cannot read it; you cannot understand it and you cannot deny it.
It looks like a pecan pie rolling sitting on the table with shoes and hat getting ready to connect the dot and the man in the dressing room is walking with a gun strapped to his side and a beach ball bouncing in front of him.
I am still wrestling with this heavy feeling inside it is not pain or any form of physical aliment, it is the environment and its occupants that is sucking the raw energy out of me and the urgency to tell a prolific story. I can’t tell it alone; I have to tell it in a night gown with incandescent lights around my bed and a bulletproof roof over my head. When the tension fades and morning weight subsides, we will write this story together and it will serve for the next century.
The temperature is rising and the squirrels are coming out of the ground they have fist like man and sand to cover the entire land. They are running up and down the streets trying to escape the beguiling heat but the sun creates a simple track and mercy is holding on to the rock with the pipers and the minstrel playing a merry tune
It is not the rhythm that you usually hear or the one that is saturated in the atmosphere, it is not the sound of death that is running the marathon around the track, it is the formula that you dig out of ice and the jewel that is sold at a very high price, it is the type of rhythm that make me feel nice. For one moment the cluttered space around me evaporate in thin air.
The window is wide open in my face and I can see everyone that entered the race, they are still walking under heavy burden covering grounds and surveying the town, and looking for substance all around but just before 2:00pm the ship will dock in the harbor and you will have fine spices and tea for th rest of your life; the window is open wide and I can see you standing in awe gallivanting with your new bride.
Within the swirling currents of stars
He materializes, a silhouette against chaos
He is the whisper throughout time of stories untold
Worn out boots pound the cracked pavement
The echoes of centuries ripple beneath him
He carries a heavy urgency within his heart
He carries the truth, secrets, and all the lies
In the alleyways where shadows conspire in silence
Sleepy eyes wide awake in the rising dawn
Boisterous laughter falters, the world stills
That moment suspended, all breaths held in
This traveling Starman opens his mouth to speak
Pausing showing his sad eyes meeting doubt
"Time is such a fragile entity" he states
"Yet it bends for those who dare listen"
He is the only sound heard, the voice of time
He outlines all that has led up to now
For his people, because to them he is a God
And The Savior is here to warn the tides
"Protect what you love and abandon frivolous material"
"Keep thy community strong and your house stronger"
"Do not worship false idols, do not give into temptation"
"And tempted you will be, The Whispering Storm is near"
Subtle gasps quickly hush as everyone huddles closer
Everyone's heart beats faster than time itself
"What lies in the Whispers of Winds is the truth"
"The truth spun drastically for one to believe"
And the legends tell once you believe there is no alternative
Your Soul becomes part of this ever-growing storm
And it becomes evil...It becomes the death...
As all you love will get swallowed with who believes
He ends with starlit tear drops falling from his eyes
For he has seen the power of the storm, he almost believed
He almost gave into temptation if it weren't for those he loved
So he protected them in the end, love prevailed his time
He turns and slowly glides past the masses of His people
Questions being thrown from every direction go unanswered
Because the only answers have to come within ones self
And those answers carry the weight of this world
Into the folds of existence upon untraveled paths
He fades...Fades away to another time, another place
Leaving only the echo of his words within their hearts
Leaving to where he knows he can never return
Because he already knows the outcome...
Written for poetry contest "Starman" on 11/18/2024
Hosted by: Tom Woody Form: Dramatic Verse
PLACED 5TH PLACE IN CONTEST
My friends and I had midnight hide and seek
One had to stand by a tree and not peek
In my state of hiding great I was hard to find
My friends decided to just be unkind
They all got together and decided to hunt me down
I first hid in the river near my house and almost drown
When they walk close by me I silently move through the grass
It was very hard to see, but I crawled a long time and almost ran out of gas
Then I heard one say that they were going up and wait by the tree
I had an idea that made a way to make them see
A shadow that ran in the distance thinking that would be
I had my horse pull a little manikin to make them think it was me
My friends took their flashlight and shined it toward it
I thought I had them but one thing was clear they did not fall for it not a bit
They all laugh and started to call out my name
They all asked how the heck did you have time to pull that trick that was so lame
I did not answer so they kept on looking for me, but I was so quick
Some of my friends started to get really mad and tick
I was a master of doing weird things they all knew what I can do
The night was still young and the grass was collecting dew
I decided to make a distraction once again
To think of it, it would probably make the night end
My friends finally surrounded my tree house
I was quiet, so quiet, more than a mouse
I had some rope in the tree house to make my escape
To distract them I made a loud noise like an ape
The tree that my tree house was in was at least forty feet up
I had some stash in my tree house a drink or two in a cup
My final hour is about to end I did not want my friends to catch me till I got to the tree
I took the rope and tide it on a branch and pushed off and that was the key
I landed on the garage roof and sneaked my way to the tree
My friends knew me to well that they plan things before I could see
They had a fish net ready for me to step into
I thought that was kinda wise and some what like pew
The few feet by the tree there was two of my friends that was ready
Up in the tree they both jumped down and pulled me up in the net fast and steady
They thought they had won, the person had to tag me before I touch tree
She ended up having to get something to stand on to reach me
I swung my weight back and forth till I ended up touching and the game ended
My friends and I were so full of surprises and that is what the game handed