Long Wishful Poems
Long Wishful Poems. Below are the most popular long Wishful by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wishful poems by poem length and keyword.
A Determined Devil -
As I lay another cedar beam plumb for our home
smoke plumes, serpentine and sulphuric, interrupts the sunshine,
I look below the ridge, Eve standing silent
with weapon in hand,
a woman so grand,
panic has no rest in her person, fear has no finger on her pulse,
I move like lightning, to war by my Lady's side,
Valley vandels have come, scortching field fruit,
searing insidious signs into our peach and apples trees,
incarnate, the Devil disheveled with a defunct posse of three
approaches me, hailing not from a city of Angels but from a ghetto of ghouls,
mean and ugly like ignorance injured by the ivory tusks of innocence,
a madman desperate for the destruction of Divinity,
unskillful and wishful for lies to come alive,
he's a scribbler scribe, a dribbler riddler
a stereotype simpleton, frontin' and gruntin'
fallin short of the great gangsta idol,
just a stereotypical imbecile, a pencil with no lead,
burpin chicken feathers claimin them to be the silk quill of Angels,
I turn to Eve now
with eyes saying now is the time for demise,
briefly, before I strike steel across the throat of Hell itself
our first promise to each other repeats in my memory,
"I forever fight for you"
as her brown eyes convince me of loyalty, love royal,
she rips her blade through his groin
as I open a river across the throat of this terrible thug...
Raising A Tribe -
Eve, this land is already populated by persons whom seem like us,
although different too, like seasons in soul,
divergent in their dreams for dynasty,
they have dialects from a depth of Dawn
that awoke long before we arrived to thrive here,
customs peculiar as shapes to stones,
Father never spoke of these klans
who strive to survive outside the mercy of His guarded Garden,
competitive as clouds in a shrunken sky,
I met a merchant, a servant to trade,
he told of banners and blood, laws and legacies
cultures savage and cities of crime,
gleamed from telling stories of wealth and wonder,
said they worship their Gods more ways than gold folds,
consider what we have encountered Luv,
will our children slay or be slain, war or work
love or get lost in conquest,
you, as a Woman of God's glorious gambit
have a harvest of futurity's face in the balance,
will you deliver the destiny of our union into this drama...
Justin A. Bordner...J.A.B. 2021
When I was very young
All I really wanted
To be was an Indian.
My mother always read to me -
Stories of fairies and elves,
Of princesses and ogres, witches,
And brownies who did good deeds.
Poems, “Wynken, Blynken and Nod”,
“The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat”,
And “The Sugar Plum Tree”.
Books, Alice in Wonderland,
The Little Colonel stories, and
The Five Little Peppers.
(I wonder if my grandchildren
Have ever heard of any of the
Old-fashioned stories and poems
Which were all magic to me.)
But, most of all, I loved
Longfellow’s poem Hiawatha.
“By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining deep sea water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis…”
I hear my mother almost singing
Those magical words from
“The Childhood of Hiawatha”.
I could see Hiawatha growing up
And learning Indian ways in
The woodlands of his youth.
I wanted to live in the woods,
To learn to talk with animals
And know their secrets.
I wanted to wear moccasins
And build a birch bark canoe!
One Christmas my brother got
A cowboy suit and hat and holsters,
But I, wonder of wonders,
Got a “real” Indian dress
With designs of tiny beads,
A fringe on the skirt,
And a headband with feathers!
I told my friends I was part Indian,
That my great grandmother
Was a real live Indian!
When it got back to my mother
She just said, “What stories you tell!”
Although I outgrew the dress,
The dream stayed with me
Throughout my childhood -
Sort of wishful thinking.
I always wanted to
Be close to nature.
Much of my childhood
I spent by myself, somewhat
Of a loner, climbing trees,
Making hideouts in the woods,
Walking in streams
To “cover my tracks”.
That “Indian child” I was
Still lives on in the
Recesses of my memory.
Maybe that’s why now, “grown up”,
I love walking in the woods
Or foraging by the ocean,
Why Stalking the Wild Asparagus
Is one of my favorite books,
Why I love picking wild blueberries
And grapes and making jam, or
Digging for clams and mussels.
Why I HAD to experiment with cooking
Slipper shells and making
Seaweed pudding and “Sumac-ade”.
Of course, I realize,
As well as anyone, that
The life of an Indian was not
As idyllic as I had once believed,
But, even now, after
All these years have passed,
It appears that
My “inner Indian”
Is alive and well and
Living on Martha’s Vineyard!
Roman à clef tragicomedy...
overlaid with façade of fiction = Mein Kampf
No need for yours truly to dig deep,
(albeit bonafide figuratively)
by Dickens thru mine Uriah Heep,
a gnarled mass creep
ping, comprising, encompassing, glomming
abysmal existence strewn with hard times,
such that I wanna leap
out this metaphorical bleak house,
a black hole in the wall swallowing
i.e. disallowing any peep
ordinarily yawping, proliferating, flirting...
now fumfering lamely issued by keep
ping low profile super tramping cheap
trickster, our mutual
friend Matthew Scott Harris,
where lack of functioning heating unit
(think male organ if ye will)
upended, rendered, discombobulated...
scrappy body electric hominid
to experience quality sleep.
Principal reason I write
to balance and aright
unexpected largesse
(thank you dad), where
eyes suddenly got bright
and bushy tail incessantly
wagged day and night,
a sensible palliative temporarily
eased penury plight,
which cash equivalent,
viz four Benjamins alleviated quite
helpful thwarting necessity to fight
off bill collectors brandishing
armstrong lance's compelling me
to summon black knight
in shining armor lodged within white
castle amidst prickly bishop
obviously one prone easily to excite
amusing little lord Fauntleroy
groomed as heir to throne,
enthusiasm since his birth did ignite
(Aesop pose) storybook life,
where fanciful elation did take flight
buzzfeeding, droning, feasting
on par with Mister
Bumble bee in flight
sweet nectar amidst lilies of the field
analogous to stripling Adam - fine lad
eve vent chilly seeking delight.
Ah to gather rose while ye may
tis futile wishful thinking,
now at mine three
score orbitz round sun,
which libido far out at bay
prurient predilections once
spawn time wracked to lay
waste vestal virgin such as... Little Dorrit,
now... raging hormones stagnant clay
hardened, atrophied, eutrophied,
jackknifed limp bizkit
long bereft testy tickle
yar seaman quizzical,
slack jawed, and sullen at
deserted abandoned cobwebbed quay
ignored do not enter, keep out,
private property signals desiccated,
no place for Peter to take holiday
barring ingress to ply skin flute
amidst hollerin hootenanny,
perhaps convincingly explaining
welcoming Voldemort without delay.
You read the title correctly,
I realize that everyone's entitled to their own opinion
But, please read the entire story before you decide
Yes, I fell in love with a one eyed Minion
Like most of you I really enjoyed Despicable Me
and in it there was this one little guy
a bit shorter in stature, hair parted in the middle
Deep sigh. love at first sight with a Minion with one eye
His name was Stuart, and he was so playful and intelligent
I knew I was smitten, but alas he wasn't real
And although I could say the same about some humans...
I could not show this Minion fellow how I really feel
Wishful thinking flooded my mind
as I curled up in a comfortable chair, tired, but not sleepy
Next thing I know I appeared to be computer animated...
yet three dimensional...and yes I'll admit, it was a bit creepy
And there they were, a pack of Minions in the park
surging forward as one, looking for another leader
Then I saw Stuart nudge Bob and say, "That's her!
That's the babe that was checking me out in the theater!"
I was surprised that his speech lacked that familiar Minion dialect...
Stuart stood on a bench, and gave me the sweetest little kiss
He said, "I have noticed you in the movies, dozens
of times, but never thought I'd see you like this!"
Initially embarrassed that he knew I've watched him so often
the shame subsided as I spent the day at his place
We dined on banana flambe...and drank frothy banana shakes
Afterwards he serenaded me with a ukulele, with such style and grace
After dark, we took a stroll back to the park
Laying in the grass, I couldn't decide which shined more bright
the stars in the sky, or the twinkling in his eye
How I wished it could be this way every night
Stuart told me he thought humans were a glorious species
and that he loved me with all his heart
if it weren't for our differences in composition
we would never ever be apart
Then the sky and the ground began to buckle
All at once I was taken completely unaware
Instead of snuggling on the grass
I was reclining on that comfortable chair
I haven't seen him that way since,
I guess blu ray or dvd will just have to do
Although I miss him terribly, at least we had that one delightful day
Yes, I fell in love with a one eyed Minion, you do believe me..don't you?
2/25/16
When a family member is dying
The whole family is plunged into despair.
It is heartbreaking to see a once active relative
In a hospital bed in pain lying there
It is hard to imagine that this is the same individual
Who was previously so active and full of life?
It may feel strange and uncomfortable to spend time
With a loved one knowing their time has arrived
Most of us feel helpless in the hospital
Seeing them there fighting to survive
There may be an opportunity to share a moment
That you treasure for the rest of your life
And on the day the heavenly father calls
For them to return home to him
The faith and hope that shines so bright
Has all of a suddenly becomes dim
But we must always have trust in the almighty
For he is the creator of everything
And we know he has a plan for all of us
Regardless to what religion you believe in
We will reflect on the lives of the departed
The legacy that they has left behind
And we know that their soul is around us
So we keep looking out for that sign
We will make mistakes because no one is perfect
And we can never please everyone
But we have to think of what memory leave
When we are dead and gone
That day will come to all of us
Children, young and old
No one knows the time god will say
Its time to leave this world
And our deeds will be the key
To open or close heaven’s door
If we crave Possessions and wealth
It will mean nothing to us anymore
We can never rewind our lives
So we have to be careful of the role we play
And imprints we leave in people lives
Is what they will remember on that day?
My very good friend father just past away
And I feel her sorrow and pain
But I know she love her father dearly
And in her heart he will always remain
And he is walking thru the gates of heaven
Free of all sorrow and pain
Where one day his family
Will see and greet him again
We wish we can keep love ones save
Shield and protected in our hearts
Knowing they will always be there
No matter what weather is on the charts
But it all is just wishful thinking
A fantasy we all have in our mind
And that day will come to everyone
For no one can stop the time
If any thing ever happens to the woman
I love with all my heart and soul
Will hold her in my arms forever
And together we will leave this world
One night while stargazing, Dragon and I, got to see a falling star… descend.
I thought that would be great, so I told him he could make a wish on them…
But Dragon’s are really quite unique, and don’t always think, like you and me.
No, NOT at all! And you should believe, things began to unravel, immediately:
About to make that wish… He realized the moon descends every night.
And the sun descends, like the moon… every single day, at every Twilight.
Becoming horrified that so many wishes had gone by him, totally unused!
He decided to wish upon the star, that all past wishes, can now come, to be used.
There is logic here, I think, as Dragon hordes things; he’d do it with wishes, too.
When I tried to explain, that’s not how wishes work, they have to be rare and few.
With falling stars, it has to come from one, that came to ground, willing to share.
Now Dragon is a stubborn thing and decided, I wanted them all for myself, to snare.
He stomped his foot, as the 2 year old he is, crying he didn’t want to share not one.
So I patiently explained that there are bigger stars everywhere, bigger than our sun!
He was sure I’d done him wrong and had lied, after all, his eyes are very keen.
The bigger, the better, and our sun was the biggest thing, that he had ever seen!
It’s brightness has gobs of power, in fact, I’d said it powers all the Earth, he recalled.
So its wish couldn’t be small… he said it’s not nice, to not share, with him at all.
Now a tantrum was about to ensue, from our 2 year old who’d skipped his nap.
And don’t forget he’s a Dragon, too! It wasn’t a good idea to fall into this trap!
Some things are better to not go through. Why fight the battle, if you can stop the war?
In the end I took that wish… and wished I’d never took him on that wishful tour.
You know what? I did find that peace finally came back and did preside, in a wink.
As I got his blankie for his bed, and tucked him in so nice and neat, I paused to think.
Next year would be a better time, to view the meteor showers, after we both have…
A well-deserved nap. Don’t you think? When he’s a tad more grown up, I did add…
Besides my wishes, in the past, have served me well, as they brought him here to me.
And I ’d need one more wish this year, to help him when flying… to not hit the trees!
This morning arrives as day is signaled by light
The stars yawn and retire as the day becomes bright
Gone is the safe harbor the shadow of night
Morning brings yet another chance to do things right
Within me is the most complex yet simplest of memories and thoughts
Ones that can bring joy the light or sorrow within the dark
Not a place always of happiness not one usually sought
it's where inner beauty is casted as well as moments where breaths are caught
Today is no different then those times in the past
I'm still wound tight with my thoughts running so fast
I'm drawn into my wormhole cacooned with the only things that last
Memories.. my life the good the bad the shadows of my past
Moments that brings a heart to dead stop
So strong you cant help but cough
Then in a blink a pop
They are pushed aside as the next rolls across
Times that when lived couldnt be deciphered thru the chaos
The decisions the chances the choices the loss
Some came out of no where as if in my life they were tossed
And then there are those that came at so high of a cost.
Within this cocoon this wormhole of a past
Deeply I sit watching again as each memory comes to pass
Memories when there made or remembered tend to always cast
A shadow or wishful thinking from a time that didnt last..
Days will be dark and gloom will reign
Others will be so precious yet so hard to obtain
For love does not stand alone nor does it always remain
There can never be a rainbow until after its rained
So I look upon all that makes up me
The roads I've traveled the blessings I see
The harshness of truth the cold brutal reality
My eyes moisten as I bow my head and bend my knees
Wondering why God had decided to make me..
With all the mistakes the moments taken for granted
The times when blessed I only raved and ranted
Never cherishing the life I was handed
A life lived while wishing death be granted
He makes no mistakes this I know
I just wish what He saw in me would finally show
Older I get the days swiftly go
And still I wander the direction I don't know
I just don't want to fail Him and not be what He intended
Ears are open my shoulders been lended
My patiences has been tried possibly overextended
Please help me find what You have always intended
Memorable - "I remember the time when...." (Aah!...the good old days!)
Puzzled - "What time is it?" (Time for a watch!)
Philosophical - "Time is of the essence!" (You can smell time???)
Exaggerated - "If I told you once, I told you a million times!" (A million??...REALLY)
Request - "May I have more time?" (Yeah, get it out of the bucket!)
Panic - "I NEED MORE TIME!!!" (Sorry, fresh out of time!)
Procrastination - "I'll do it the next time!" (Um....Maybe!)
Encouragement - "You'll do better the next time!" (Be ready!)
Threatening - "You just wait 'til the next time!" (Uh-Oh!")
Wishful - "When I get some more time!" (It's in the mail!)
Pondering - "How much time do I have?" (Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock!)
Questioning - "When was the last time?" (Cmon, think hard now!)
Acceptance - "Time waits for no one!" (Missed that bus again!)
WHAT????? - "Time and time again!" (When was the first time???)
Admonishment - "Don't waste my time!" (The bucket's almost empty!)
Ceasing - "Time out!!!" (Whoa...stop right there!)
Foolish - "Turn back the hands of time!" (Good luck on that one!!!)
Regret - "Time is what I don't have!" (Buddy, can you spare a time?)
Boasting - "Yeah....I've got the time!" (My loan rate is 100% interest!)
???????? - "Where did the time go???" (I know it's around here somewhere!)
Advice - "Be on time!" (Don't be late again!)
Wanting - "Give me some more time!" (Gimme!...Gimme!...Gimme!)
Truth - "There is no more time!" (Come back tomorrow...if there's time!)
Reality - "I'm running out of time!" (Then pick up the pace!)
Upset - "Do you know what time it is???" (You must be crazy! Look at the time!!!)
Pleading - "Do you have any time???" (Buddy, can you spare another time?)
Realization - "I need to make the time!" (Now where did I put that recipe???)
Befuddled - "I lost track of the time!" (Where, oh where has my little time gone??)
It escaped - "Time got away from me!" (Time to get a leash!)
Falsehood - "You can make up the time!" (Counterfeit time???)
Biblical - "....and a time to every purpose under heaven:) (Don't forget this one!)
The Best One - "You have ALL the time in the world!" (BEWARE of that one!!!)
Across figurative and literal board...
mine hardscrabble existential debacle spelled losing game of trouble
Oft times, I experience wretchedness being alive
spurring wonderment whereby thoughts
of my demise doth drive
analogous to buzzfeeding bumbling bees
combing into their hive.
Giddiness prevailed
when coronavirus (COVID-19)
warranted quarantine to diminish
transmitting pandemic virus thru the air
lifestyle change no major imposition,
cuz yours truly already familiarized
with self isolation
courtesy his social anxiety despair
schizoid personality disorder the diagnosis
nsync with loathsome
body morphology toward self
viz mental health impasse a legitimate malady
impossible mission possibly
since in utero didst impair
minimally abetted courtesy
Buffalo wing and a prayer
wishful thinking only death can relieve
some recently approaching year.
Indifference toward self sums up story
viz mindset to whit
resignation to cash in chips
at a tender age, I did submit
evidenced courtesy abysmal grades
during stint as student
kindergarten and first grade the exception
earning appellation dummkopf or nitwit
showcased apathy to access ability and excel
overshadowed courtesy powerfully pointed outlook
within his bedroom at 324 Level Road
sequestered long haired pencil neck geeky hermit
four familiar walls constituted ambit.
Refuge sought vis a vis withdrawal
from world wide web
refusing sustenance (think anorexia nervosa),
thus these lovely bones withered away
thankfully mother (a licensed practical nurse)
of course intervened without delay
belated acknowledgement
regarding maternal love hip hip hooray
enrolling expertise of Doctor Ted Goldberg
at Collegeville Community counseling
to ameliorate psychological internal melee
running rampant and roughshod within me psyche
pushing self destruction down into stairway
entering portals of hell
analogous to Earthen bowels
deep within Zimbabwe.
Whether the above sentence incidental
to feeble attempt at reasonable rhyme
so please geography buffs pardon moi
add dull less cent delinquent puns
he did cashier plus
any unintended faux paus as aspiring poet
artfully crafts elaborated gimcrackery,
albeit impious kooky mishmashed
outlandish quirky s*it.
1400 year
(A translation effort of a composition of Rabindranath Tagore)
Today. After a hundred years.
You. You are a reader, passionate and avid one.
Resonating in the verses of a poem. Mine.
A curious one.
Today. After a hundred years.
Today. When the new spring sings in the morning chime.
Any of those colors in flora and fauna.
The fragrance, the song of the chirping bird. That wraps today.
With the brightest red among roses in sight, on a wishful flight
I , a vulnerable one, will fail, within,
to belong there in love, with love, that brings of more
Joyous tune along the lifelong shore.
As they will be greeted as yours
Today. After a hundred years. More.
Still you will open the northern door of thine.
And you will gaze there as your life will rejoice in divine.
On that wider horizon, a twilight sky, enlightened
where your verses will find your peace, serene and reigned.
As brimming tears reflect on the tranquil imagination.
Today. After a hundred years more. On a promising morn.
Heaven. A distant tune in flight. Estranged in a world. But not in oblivion.
Mingled in air, a song within souls.
When thy soul rose, in an all-encompassing one.
Those newer days of spring, tied in a chanting knot. In a joyful echo, of a flight of a song.
That song, a fragrant one.
Will find a gentle breeze blowing from the north, of yours. A gentle kind.
That rushes through the colorful sky.
Brushstrokes on a canvass. Colors of reasons. Colors of rhymes.
On that day. A poet was born. With an earnest desire, within a song.
Of verses of unseen, verses of an eternal dawn.
Words. Blossoming in those verses, in colorful petals of a flower.
In love of divine.
One day. A hundred years before.
One day. After a hundred years more.
May your home be filled with warmth. Within.
A new voice of a poem, A poet, A song, A hymn, bygone.
Do you know the voice of him?
The spring. In the gentlest of your muse.
In you. In yours. An envelope to your ever-flowing brooks
May thy song seasons the soul.
And may thy heart find a love, in murmuring leaves, buzzing of bees
New day, may thy soul be in Gods and green.
Today. After a hundred years more. Longer than an eternal dawn.