Long Yesterdays Poems
Long Yesterdays Poems. Below are the most popular long Yesterdays by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Yesterdays poems by poem length and keyword.
DON'T LEAVE ME WITH UNINVITED TOMORROWS.
DON'T LET ME FORGET THE MAGICAL YESTERDAYS.
LET ME VISIT YOU NIGHTLY.
SHROUD ME IN MY DREAMS.
INSPIRE ME FROM WITHIN.
HELP ME TO MELT THE ICE THAT HAS FORMED.
HELP ME TO WARM THE CRATERS OF MY HEART.
HELP ME KNOCK DOWN THE STONE WALLS.
HELP ME TO UNBIND ME OF MY INNER CHAINS.
BE MY KNIGHT.
BE MY WIZARD.
BE MY MAGIC.
BE THE ONE WHO CAN HOLD THE KEY.
TAKE MY HAND.
LEAD ME TO THE HIGHEST PEAK.
SHOW ME HOW TO SOAR ONCE AGAIN.
CARESS ME GENTLY.
KISS MY LIPS.
DELIGHT ME.
HELP ME FEEL AGAIN.
DON'T LEAVE ME WITH UNINVITED TOMORROWS.
DON'T LET ME FORGET THE MAGICAL YESTERDAYS.
LET ME VISIT YOU NIGHTLY.
SHROUD ME IN MY DREAMS.
INSPIRE ME FROM WITHIN.
BE MY KNIGHT.
BE MY WIZARD.
BE MY MAGIC.
BE THE ONE WHO CAN HOLD THE KEY.
My days were filled with limp lifts of your hands,
each a tear steeped in lost compassion.
You made me swim in a cold, clammy sea of sorrow~
and shaped me into a voiceless, motionless
s c u l p t u r e.
My cries were your joy~
your face and the devil’s wore identical masks.
Your indifference became a disease
to my heart, soul, and mind...
and you dimmed the r a g i n g f i r e of love
once emblazoned on my spirit.
"When yesterdays become devoid of compassion."
You wished me ceaseless tears.
You filled your heart with whatever floated your boats~
and most of what you swam with was worse than hatred~
yours are I n d i f f e r e n c e and n e g l e c t.
I knocked on psychiatrists' doors~
only to find them latched behind,
walls unspoken like the ones you built.
I tried to smoke, to numb my mind~
but thoughts were too heavy, too thick to lift.
Even alcohol grew placid on my tongue~
its burn too dull to matter.
Thank God I met Jesus~
on my wounds, He rubbed a healing balm,
His sunshine blossomed as treasure in my chest.
In the rubble of devastation, I found your love again.
But what am I supposed to do with it now?
Only that I am now made fearless, tearless..
by His
s c r I p t u r e.
sunrise ripples
across the lake
memories surface as I awake
deep-seated
memories-long
dead
amid the eerie dayspring light
yesterday's memories
glow so bright
sepia memories
surface
portable
memories of love
the first kiss of love's bliss-
could lips be soft like this
first moment of re-born life-
birthing a wholeness,
free from strife
the first picture in my mind-
ignites experiences,
of a spiritual kind
the first poem
on paper penned-
that was to bring
many mutual friends
pages scatter
memories floor
just in reach
those days of yore
yesterdays
in store
Seasonal flows are flowing
in sequence to a seasonal
warmth
A satellite hoovers like
a distant cloud
in an atmosphere which is neither
might not support
or which has not been seen in many days
microbial species within the salty brines of
Jezero's Crater
talks of yesterdays
the only planet in the solar
system to be inhabited by
robots
facting and gathering
while scientist do there part
Parts per million
the itchy hands of
prospectors
found Hematite
to awaken the greed of man
the desire to extract and own
makes rocket maker say
yes we can
they consort and collaborate
to create a suitible
place to exsist
Mars the planet closet
in size
there might be large
Gold feilds
The weighty hand of Death crushes the core of your being,
sending a shiver, slithering up your spine like a cold chill.
And an empathic moon silently slips away,
as darkness conceals the tears pooling in your eyes.
Your heart is numb; you feel nothing:
there is no anger, no hate, no feeling at all:
just an all-consuming emptiness,
where your heart should be.
Abandoned to your worst nightmare:
life has lost its meaning; it just is.
Death has reduced your heart to a hollowed-out
shell, that's falling apart, piece by piece.
Love receded into memory's maze
of bittersweet moments and forever dreams.
And acid tears burn your cheeks like rivers of fire;
corrosive enough to dissolve hope and tarnish your soul.
Crumbling into a fetal position, you hug your knees
and rhythmically rock back and forth;
teetering on the edge of despair.
Your soulmate died, leaving a gaping hole in your heart:
that time will never be able to fill.
Your breathing is erratic as panic wrestles for control:
but you fight back, slowly regaining your faculties.
Yet, your heart harbors pain,
and the tears spontaneously flow once again.
You can't see how you'll continue your life:
there are no more tomorrows to share, only yesterdays to recall.
And you've never felt so helpless and vulnerable:
a part of you died; now grief consumes the rest.
Memories of guilt fall and spiral down
To fill love's empty soul with its debris
Tormented from sadness I know profound
I've built a funeral pyre my mind will see
Yesterday's desires I've folded in time
To cast on the flames where memories die
Lovers names burn in colored smoke and climb
Dispersing above in an endless sky
These burnt alms donated from my fool's gold
Are now gray cold ash born from flames that weep
Collected from tears and love that turned cold
From time's burning fires of flames, I reap
I've wept from my yesterdays that grew cold
Now lost in ashes as I have grown old
10/5/17 contest End of Form series
sponsor Broken Wings
Contest-The Pensive Poet-Sponsor-Constance La France 8/2/26
The realm of reflection endlessly floats in my mind
shedding fragments of pictures from yesterdays
where I wonder if changes had been made
would it have made a difference?
though quiet, my mind speaks without sound
sometimes telling of star-dust memories
when beauty was all encompassing
from emotions shared
sometimes telling of failure and regrets
from choices made
remnants of passing days and a life lived
spent tethered to the bounty of the times
when understanding was a moment of growth
so now I wonder as tomorrow becomes yesterdays
how many fragments of pictures will replace
the ones that are slowly vanishing
will they cling to the walls of my mind
like those that came before?
looking back, I find myself
in the silence of the moment and wonder
what was worthless
and what was jeweled moments of beauty
and satisfaction
knowing only, I hold these particular memories
they are a personal treasure, a personal burden
shared only in my dreams where I wander
through the landscape of my life
in nightly reflections of fragmented memory
*Image of Stakeout On Dope Street Withdrawl by Warner.
Delirium
I stepped in
yesterdays cold
that babbled through
a rosed mist,
its clammy waters
rallied the shallows
that suffer skin to clinch
flesh in curbed
shriveling
crimps,
Shapes a
glacial sheath
paired amongst
innocence, roughly
stays offbeat,
occasions a
past,
Coupling realms
of diverse remnants,
same as wavering
opinions, inducing
banks overflowing,
frigid blight
realized,
A duality
morphed as
a single organism,
cells bobbing well against a
skeletal chamber, wherein, the
upper region of unswerving
senses, uniquely contrast,
yet settled in their
unsettling way of
indivisibility,
Tug-of-war
eternally plays,
yes or no wobbles on a
scheming balancing beam,
and juggling is being skillfully
played whilst illusion rules
consciousness, botched
mayhem willingly flaps,
till it fancies its
place,
The chaos
that further perplexes
a cranium, where atop beams
heavenly pivoting light that gleams
then glows, bestowing its energetic
love, diligent patience flashes yon,
awakening a wholesomeness,
albeit, temporarily inclined,
cognizant vicissitudes
parts among us
and resonates
--an instant
warmth.
2020 July 16
*1st Place*
A BRIAN STRAND VERSE FREED
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 March 02
You can twist the way a man sees the world.
Do you think that sounds ridiculous?
What if you did it over time with subtlety and diligence?
The audience is largely uneducated, so remind them of their impotence; tell them any other source of facts must be regarded with suspiciousness.
Whisper to them over breakfast and slowly introduce corrosive dissonance; outright lie to them at dinner,salting in some truth for spicy antithesis.
Those who run the country are up to something mischievous; their lives, their fine America, have been eroding with precipitance.
Remember empowered yesterdays with a sad and tearful wistfulness; twist the needs and rights of others with pernicious lies and maliciousness.
Invest their government with conspiracy and its policies with wickedness. Remind your audience that freedom was torn from kings by well-armed militias.
Introduce the savior as a shining instrument of religiousness; defend his faults as small and frivolous and his right to rule as unambiguous.
When shocking reality dares assert itself, denials must be vicious and officious.
A rescue mission must be launched and certainly they must be participants; banners from the gift shop will form a team identity and a certain moral equivalence.
The leader will whip the angry crowd, stoking resentment with fabricated incidents, swearing, “I will be with you on this great crusade and you will be my instruments”
As the mob storms off he will slink away; he was only there for stimulus.
Hear the old republic creak as the President flexes his insolence; he’s seen that no blame can touch him, so he’s filled with proud ambivalence.
What will it take to rein him in? What kind of obvious stimulant, with thousands already dying every day and our society marbled with brittleness?
To ponder our ages of death, our past deeds done
Through the long corridors of history, we have beat our drum
The blood-soaked yesterdays are from our own hands
All the armies have marched, bring on the bands
We have wallowed in sorrow for our kind
Our words poured from our veins, crawled like a vine
Tomorrow the town cryer says, there will be peace
Death speaks its truth, it will always feast
Each generation wears a promised ring
Yet stand with the tombstones and begin to sing
Someone wants to be King, it's timeless and old
Blood drips from their eyes calloused and cold
Another speaks up, not him but I
And yet it's not their sons that go to die
They both scream out so the world can hear
Then pray to the Heavens, while sharping their spear
How selfish the ego with hate in the heart
That tears at the soul rip it apart
Extinction is possible, we could be no more
We have sown the seed of total war
Men clamor in shadows for a last-minute stay
Promise no great to make this vision go away
Only time will tell it may be too late
Man has control of his own fate
The tombs will crumble when the worlds laid waste
Only ashes remain to bury us without a trace
1/10/20