Long Word Poems
Long Word Poems. Below are the most popular long Word by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Word poems by poem length and keyword.
1. I stand before the Divine, steady in the peace your presence has always given me. *And I stand with you, knowing that every step we’ve taken has revealed the truth of our bond.
2. From the first sound of your voice, my spirit found rest. *And from the first moment I sensed you, my heart recognized its companion.
3. In my sanctuary of prayer, I saw you among the women who shaped my understanding of life and family. *And in my quiet reflections, I saw you searching for me with a heart already aligned with mine.
4. You became strength when I was weak, awakening parts of me that had long been silent. *And you became calm when I was restless, guiding me toward the place where our spirits meet.
5. I vow to honor the unity formed not by society, but by the Divine who wrote our path. And I vow to walk beside you with patience, devotion, and trust in the timing meant for us.
6. I vow to speak truth openly when the moment arrives, even before the world. And I vow to hold that truth with reverence, protecting it as the foundation of our future.
7. I vow to uphold our interfaith bond, two branches of Abraham meeting at a shared core of compassion. And I vow to nurture that bond, so our children may choose their own path guided only by wisdom and love.
8. I vow to cherish a closeness deeper than the sea, stronger than mountains, warmer than fire, cooler than water. And I vow to cherish you, knowing destiny has woven our lives together with purpose and grace.
9. I vow to welcome the name and life of your miniature person, who will someday be a sister to others. And I vow to embrace every child we are blessed with, honoring the story written for them before birth.
10. I vow to remain steady through distance, time, confusion, and circumstance. And I vow to remain present through silence, clarity, growth, and the unfolding of our shared future.
11. Together, I vow to walk the path the Divine has set before us. And together, I vow to build a life shaped by compassion, faith, and the quiet certainty of love.
The Worst Grief
I believe the worst grief you can feel,
Is the grief you feel for people that hurt you.
You paint pictures of all people in your mind.
But pain dealt to you doesn’t give you time to paint into that picture.
Pain taints your oils, your pigments and acrylics.
And the portrait is distorted,
Burned and burdened with blood spilled out of your own fingers.
But in the rearview you can’t see those smaller smears.
You see the face of the person you cared about one day and an age ago.
The poison only shows back up when you back up —
Take a closer look into that painting.
Its an optical illusion,
Occlusion clouding conscious thought.
That one last “I should text him.” Or that one last “he’s better now, surely.”
You built up walls to keep them out.
So why do we keep opening the gate when they come back?
Love with such depth that you fulfill them all.
You have been given ten words carved in stone.
Do not kill. Do not steal. Do not lie. Do not covet.
Honor. Remember. Keep. Rest.
But I give you an eleventh
not to replace them,
but to hold them,
to breathe life into them,
to be the roof under which every other commandment finds shelter.
*Love.*
Love God with a reverence that makes idols crumble.
Love your neighbor with a mercy that makes judgment silent.
Love your enemy with a grace that disarms the serpent’s plot.
Love the weary with hands that serve without being asked.
Love the broken with a presence that does not flinch.
Love the truth more than you love being right.
Love forgiveness more than you love being offended.
Love obedience more than you love convenience.
For if you love, you will not kill
because you will see the image of God in every face.
If you love, you will not steal
because another’s blessing will feel like your own.
If you love, you will not lie
because truth will be the language of your devotion.
If you love, you will not covet —
because gratitude will be richer than possession.
The eleventh commandment is not written on tablets.
It is written on hearts.
It is not shouted from mountains.
It is whispered in kitchens, in hospital rooms, in the quiet act of staying.
It is easy to follow rules.
It is hard to love like thi
to love when you’re tired,
to love when you’re wronged,
to love when no one is watching.
But this is the commandment that fulfills all the rest.
This is the one that turns religion into relationship,
duty into delight,
law into life.
So go.
And let your life be the eleventh commandment.
Let people read it in how you speak.
Let them feel it in how you stay.
Let them know God by how you love.
Because in the end,
heaven will not ask how well you memorized the ten.
Heaven will ask how deeply you lived the one.
Oh God…
hear me out of the abundance of my sin.
I’m standing here
the chosen one who keeps falling
falling so hard it feels like sin learned my name.
And every time I rise,
sin pulls me back like a memory that refuses to die,
like a colonizer staking claim
on the territory of my thoughts.
It’s becoming a lifestyle
and I’m terrified of how normal it feels.
So God
look down from earth.
Hear me from the dust, O Lord
bend Your ear toward my cry.
Open Your ears to this scream
I’ve been hiding behind my ribs.
Cause from the assemblies of the righteous
I have slipped,
more times than I can count,
but here I am, hands shaking,
strengthen me, that I may rise again;
set my feet upon Your path
and let my lips forever praise Your holy name forever.
May Your songs dwell in my mouth,
and may Your Name be engraved upon my heart for all my days.
Take from me the cup of Your wrath, O God;
let me not drink it,
lest I be consumed and forgotten.
In Your mercy, O Lord,
hear this desolate agony
And Come to my rescue, O Lord my Advocate;
plead my cause and vindicate me.
Pour out Your love like oil upon my head,
that I may be changed within its fire.
O God, my Lord
hear my cries.
Do not shut Your ears to me, O God;
for my iniquities rise like a flood
and threaten to overtake my soul.
Turn Your face toward me
and pull me from its waters.
For I Your lover and beloved have fallen.
But even in the dirt
I know there’s a road back to You.
Break sin off my life
until it becomes foreign,
until holiness becomes home.
Make my soul and body
a living, breathing sacrifice,
today,
always,
forever.
Amen.
Tokyo Jazz Club
You played a solo on the bandstand but didn’t dig the sound your tenor was searching for/ something new, a note big enough to blow the whole town down/
Between sets, you caught a laugh rising from the bar/
a woman’s laugh, curling like smoke through blue light, full-bodied, bright, sweet with danger/
You heard Giant Steps inside it, each burst of joy a door swinging open/
You stole no melody—only the freedom of it/ transposing her wild laughter into a sound unheard/
raw and pure, free jazz for sure, a midnight breeze running loose through New York streets/
Now your music was hip to the score, a fusion of brass and laughter, a solo shaped for her alone/
At the end of the night, my horn held her close/
or was it you beneath those stars, where Jelly Roll Morton rolled through carnival lights glowing like flowers in the dark?
They told me it was medicine.
A cure in a capsule.
A little light in liquid form,
a powder path to paradise.
It whispered like honey,
slid smooth down my veins,
said, “I’ll heal your hurt, hush your hunger,
pull the storm from your skull.”
And it did.
Oh, it did.
The world slowed
colors stretched into forever, and my chest unclenched like a fist finally letting go.
But the bottle had teeth.
The pill had claws.
The powder carried a price tag I couldn’t read at first.
Every high built a higher wall.
Every flight carved a deeper fall.
The nectar that kissed me sweetly at midnight
bit me raw by dawn.
It is love that leaves bruises.
A friend who steals your shoes while you sleep.
A healer who poisons the wound so you’ll crawl back begging for the cure.
They don’t tell you the double-edged truth:
that the elixir doesn’t choose.
It cuts both ways
one side silk, one side steel.
And you,
you are the bleeding in between.
So I stand with the glass in my hand,
heart trembling on the rim.
Asking myself
is it medicine?
Or is it blade?
And the silence answers,
“Both.”
I just wanted five minutes.
Six hours on my feet,
smiling when I didn’t feel like smiling,
moving when my body already felt heavy.
Instead of homebound,
I found myself in the grocery store...
Bright lights, crowded aisles,
a cart that wouldn’t steer straight.
Holding up the checkout line
because my card refused to work.
Nothing terrible.
Just little things.
But sometimes little things
feel like the world
pressing down
a little too hard.
The drive home.
Not in silence.
Conversation to carry,
words to give
when all I had left
was exhaustion.
I pulled into the driveway
and sat there for a moment.
I just wanted five minutes.
Five minutes in the car.
Five minutes to breathe.
Five minutes before opening the door
to the life that needed me again.
But the baby was already screaming.
The oldest was already making messes.
My sitter was already overwhelmed.
So the door opened
before the minutes could exist.
And the chaos rushed in.
Noise.
Questions.
Dinner to make.
Messes to clean.
Bedtimes to manage.
And somewhere between it all
a quiet thought kept repeating
like a prayer
no one could hear:
I just wanted five minutes.
Five minutes
before the stress
turned my body to stone.
Five minutes
to sit with my own breath.
Five minutes
to remember what it feels like
to be a person
before being everything
for everyone.
I didn’t get them.
But I’m still standing
in the middle of the noise
wishing for
five small minutes
of quiet.
I'm not sure when you left,
but my guess is, it's been a process
from the beginning.
Maybe the moment you left heaven's presence
you longed for its essence,
and left unnoticed?
Or was it when your freedom fell,
taken from the grips of hell,
and all it taught you to believe about yourself,
and life?
Or maybe when the one you
felt could change all that,
did change all that,
and left himself?
So, so did you?
Or, was it when your dad left?
Or maybe when the very definition of God
was crushed under betrayal's menacing vengeance?
Your dependence on yourself was your downfall,
you know.
And now, there's no feeling left at all.
The more you left,
the more I was left wandering,
left wondering,
how to find someone who desires to remain in the shadows
KEROUAC THE WORD SPEAKS JAZZ/Tony Adamo
Spoken Word All in Caps for Better Reading While in Recording Studio/10/14/23
THE JAZZ COOL AND BEBOP MUSICIANS MADE MUSIC THEIR OWN/
THE BEAT GENERATION WAS A NONCONFORMIST CULTURE MOVEMENT OF THE 1950’S/
WRITERS, POETS SUCH AS JACK KEROUAC, NEAL CASSADY, ALLEN GINSBERG, DIANE DE PARMA, WILLIAM S. BURROUGH, AND PHILIP LAMANTIA, AND A WHOLE BEAT GENERATION OF AUTHORS WHO TOLD YOU LIKE IT IS/
INNOVATIONS IN THE COOL OF WORD SPEAK POETRY/ THE BEATS WERE A LITERARY SUBCULTURE THAT WAS DEEPLY ROOTED IN THE TOTAL REJECTION OF STANDARD NARRATIVE VALUES/
MAN, HARD LIQUOR, DRUGS, AND MAD SEX FUELED THE BACKBONE OF THE BEATS ALONG WITH THE HARMONIC SYSTEM OF BEPOP IMPROVISATIONS INFUSED INTO THEIR WORLD OF THE NEW POETRY SPOKEN WORD/
THE BEAT GENERATION’S MOVERS AND THINKERS HIPED THE WORLD TO A NEW WAY OF KNOWLEDGE WITH FLOWING THOUGHTS AND IDEAS ABOUT PERSONAL FREEDOM WITHOUT GOVERNMENT INTERVENTION/
SO, DIG, LIKE THE BEBOPPERS STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS ON THE BANDSTAND, IN PARTICULAR, CHARLIE BIRD PARKER IMPROVISED HORN SOLOS/
SO WAS IT FOR THE BEATS' FAST AND SLOW MUSIC TEMPOS IN THEIR WORD DELIVERY/
TAKING MELODY BEBOP MUSIC LINES, IMPROVISATION ON WORDS, AND INCORPORATING THE SOUNDS INTO THE BEAT THINKING AND WRITINGS/
MAN, THESE JAZZ POETS WERE DEEPLY ROOTED IN THE ARRANGEMENT OF JAZZ WORD SPEAK, BEBOP JUMPING FREESTYLE IN WORD WRITING TO PAGE AND BEYOND/
NOT ALL BEATS WERE JAZZHEADS/ BUT JAZZ MUSIC IN THE 1950s GAVE VOICE TO A LOT OF THE BEATS' POETRY AND WRITINGS/ LIKE DIG KEROUAC ON THE STEVE ALLEN TV SHOW TO SEE AND HEAR WHAT I MEAN/
LIKE IT IS BABY, LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI, KEROUAC, AND GINSBERG, WERE KICKIN THEIR WORD SPEAK WRITINGS WITH A BEBOP INFLUENCE AND A MARIJUANA, HIGH BALL HIGH/
THE BEAT GENERATION FREED THEMSELVES IN THEIR WRITINGS AND LIVES FROM THE SHACKLES OF WESTERN THINKING IN SEEKING NEW WAYS TO EXPRESS THEIR TIMES ABOUT LOVE, LIFE, DEATH AND POETRY.
There was a time,
A time when I thought the world would be better,
Without me in it.
When nights stretched too long,
And mornings felt like punishment.
When breathing felt heavy, and silence was louder than screams.
I was disappearing.
Piece by piece.
Smile by smile.
Hope by hope.
And then you
You didn’t come crashing in with fireworks,
or promises you couldn’t keep.
You came with something stronger
A hand that never let go,
A voice that didn’t demand,
it reassured.
A love that didn’t run when I fell apart it kneeled down in the wreckage with me,
and said,
“We’ll rebuild.”
You saved me.
When I thought I was unworthy,
you reminded me I was enough.
When I felt invisible,
you looked at me like I was the only thing
in focus.
When I tried to push you away,
you stayed.
You always stayed.
You saved me in the quiet ways,
The thousand little moments,
Checking if I’d eaten,
Holding me until my shaking slowed,
Sitting with me in silence until the storm inside me passed.
You didn’t just catch me when I fell,
You taught me how to stand again.
You didn’t just fight the darkness for me,
You showed me I was worth fighting for.
And still,
Every time I wonder if I can keep going,
You remind me that I already am.
Every time the shadows call,
You drown them out with love.
Every time I forget why I’m here,
You become the reason again.
You saved my life.
Not once.
Not twice.
But over and over,
With every breath you’ve given me
When I thought I had none left.
And if love is measured by miracles,
Then you are my greatest one.
Because I stand here.
Alive,
Whole,
Still fighting
Only because you refused to let me die in the dark.
You saved me.
And in saving me,
You gave me back to myself.
You gave me back to this world.
You gave me back to love.
And now,
This is for you.
For every night you stayed awake with me,
For every time you held me when I couldn’t hold myself,
For every whisper of “I’ve got you”, when I was sure nobody did.
I am here because of you.
I am alive because of you.
And I will spend the rest of my days
honoring the hands that pulled me out of the dark.
You saved me.
And I love you
With every breath you helped me take.