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Best Poems Written by Mark Longson

Below are the all-time best Mark Longson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mark Longson Poem

Before you went away

I wake up at the break of dawn.
the sun light fills my room 
I look out at the wonderous view
and its glow that feels so warm. 

and then I remember we used to share
this wonderous time of day
but that was then and this is now
Before you went away.

I sit in the cold kitchen 
coffee in my mug, remembering your first kisses
remembering your tight hug.
Remembering the teasing words youd say
and the "Love you's" that you'd say
words from the past in better times
Before you went away.


Im not sure where it all went wrong
there were no signs to see
you said that I suffocated you
and you wanted to be free,
that knife its wound sharp and deep
your words cut to bone
I close my tear filled eyes once more
my mind drifts far away 
thoughts back to the loving times 
Before you went away.

I hear a beep from messenger
and rush to grab my phone.
but you're not there its just my mum
and again im all alone.
My mind drifts to another time
and the "Love you's" that you'd say
but that was then and this is now,
before you went away.

so I sit in this cold kitchen 
coffee in my mug, remembering your first kisses
remembering your tight hug.
Remembering the teasing words youd say
and the "Love you's" that we'd say,
but that was back in better times,
Before you went away.

 
I look out of the window the light is fading fast
my mind remembering better times,
and now the day has passed
As the sun dips down behind the great oak tree
where we shared love on many a day
but that was then and this is now,
before you went away.

I sit in this cold kitchen 
coffee in my mug, remembering your first kisses
remembering your tight hug.
Remembering the teasing words of fun
and the "love you" you would say
all those things I long to hear
Before you went away.

But that was then and this is now
before you went away.

Details | Mark Longson Poem

Ode To Morse Code

An Ode To Morse code

The click click clack 
from pounded brass 
the words develop extensive
The heat of the tubes 
warms up the room
when temperatures are receded 

Deep into the night 
makes it's flight
to detector diodes rectificated
creates a mellow sound
which is most profound 
like musical tunes lamented.

The crackle and pop all seem to stop
our ears filter out most impressive
The heterodyne rings, our speaker sings 
Our filter gets tuned and re-centred

Our wrists work the key most efficiently 
Messages and reports are replenished 
Greetings are passed 
with our pounded brass
New friendships and contacts extended.

This simple tool needs no slide-rule
two metal contacts stroke each other
such a gentle touch produces so much
than one would feel from the touch of your lover 

This glorious Morse Code
will never get old 
it just seems it keeps being re-invented
Military once lost now renewed at no cost
Security back up is the incentive.

This code that we know we set it to flow
at speeds some find preventive.
But QRS we know to start sending slow
New contacts we'll give them incentive

For newcomers who yearn and then finally learn
their first transmission so alluded
their hand shakes with fright 
their sending is ripe
but a contact is finally concluded.

The buzz that they feel can make their head reel
with excitement and self satisfaction
When finally they stand a Morse code old hand
Another Morse code addict Invented.


Written and composed by Mark Longson (G0NMY) (c) 2018 All rights reserved.

Details | Mark Longson Poem

Spider On the Ceiling

There's a spider on my ceiling
He's been sitting there all night
From the moment that I spotted him
He gave me quite a fright.

Even at the long off distance 
He appears to be quite big
I've never really liked them
ever since I was a kid.

When I have to walk beneath him 
I run quickly along the wall
I dare not walk beneath him
knowing my luck he would fall.

I yell up to my partner
"Get down here its bloody back!"
It cant be the same spider? 
Because I sucked him up the Vac.

I rush into the kitchen
If the kids see him they'll freak
I drag out our old cleaner
And attachments with long reach

I drag them in the living room
plug in and then switch on.
Then I look up at the ceiling
And the bloody thing has gone!


written and composed by Mark Longson (c) 2018

Details | Mark Longson Poem

Ode To a Tench:Fishing

Come here you little Tinca
Come here towards my net
Come here you little Tinca 
You're a new PB I bet.

Ive fed you worms and maggots
Caught Roach and Bream its true
But as nice as it is to catch them
I came here to try and catch you.

My rod is near bent double
The line it sings with stretch
You pull towards the Lillies
To snap me off I bet?

So come here you great big Tinca
Don't drag me in the Reeds
My heart it wont stop pounding
Your weight I'm sure exceeds
The target that I set for you
Visions flashing through my mind.
13 pound 7 ounce female specimen 
Please pass it oh be so kind.

Come here you Massive Tinca
My rods begun to creak 
My arms are oh so tired
They ache and feel so weak

Come here you enormous Tinca 
My net is now not far
Oh damn where is my camera
Aarrgh I left it in the Car!

Come here you behemoth Monster!
I cant see you in this dark
The Net it slides beneath you!
Ohhh Damn its a flippin CARP! 

Hehh Hehh

Written and composed by Mark Longson (c) 2018

Details | Mark Longson Poem

Life As a Ghost

I thought maybe I can get through this
by putting my thoughts to rhyme
maybe doing so will bring me some clarity 
a method to ease and help focus my mind.
Here goes.........

If this is life I don't want it
If this is life count me out
If this is life I don't want it
I just want to scream and shout

I dream of petrol and lighters 
Of Trains Bridges and Canals
Of ropes and chains and hanging
But these dreams have all come from hell

They seem to offer a way out 
a way out when all else seems lost
a way to bring peace and silence
but a way with an ultimate cost

A failure in life is my reason
A failure in dreams and hope
A failure to fit in society
A failure of trying to cope

I can imagine the comments you're all writing
quoting of others who are all worse off
and maybe in reality I am guilty
but in my confused mind I am not

Its hard to write down my feelings 
to post them and put them on show
You'll all think He's seeking attention
you may be right I don't know.

But how else can I try to fight this
of feeling so down and so low
Since trying on my own is a failure
maybe I should give up and just go.

All that I know is I hate this 
I just want to stop and get off
to take away my perceived pressures
to bring it all to a stop

But I guess I will just turn over
and try to return to my sleep
where worlds seem oh so much better
a place where I rarely weep

Only time will tell if its successful
that's if I have the balls to post
or maybe I will just turn over
and return to my life as a ghost.


Written and composed by Mark Longson (c)2017 All Rights reserved.......

Details | Mark Longson Poem

A Crooked House

There was a crooked house 
in a crooked part of town
Where you could down a pint or two
and let your life calm down
A place to relax and to de-stress
with friends and glass or two.
Yes we loved that little crooked house,
with its ice cold special brew.

It was a warm and friendly place
met always with a smile
A place to sit and talk and laugh
and for us to sit awhile.
A place to go and socialise 
and meet up with your mate.
A place to take a new found friend 
or maybe a new date.


Alas one night there was a roaring fire
and the crooked house burned down 
The structure was deemed unsafe to stand 
and so was bulldozed to the ground.
We're sad to see that its now gone 
and our beloved crooked house is no more.
Just sodden pile of bricks and stone
lay in a rubble on the floor.


So thank you friend and Landlord,
Landlady and bar staff. 
For the friendly service with a smile 
and for all the friendly chat
for all the beers served and drank
and the laughter and fun, thanks alot
we hold dear in our hearts and minds
Good times never forgot


Thanks to the little crooked house

Details | Mark Longson Poem

The Beast

It's hard the see the pictures
the ones you chose to share
the mark of blunt force trauma
that he has brought to bare.

I can see in my mind each blow
from his fists and head alike,
the kicks, the stamps, the crushing,
the hands around your windpipe.
The ripped out hair the cut split lips
the broken bones inflicted
The foul disgusting tongue
of poisonous words vindictive.

Your children have a centre seat 
but their screams fall on deaf ears.
For when his rage like lava erupts 
no words will calm their fears.
The hate and loathing he brings to bare
the intensive screams of rage,
if this was a wild animal
it would be locked up in a cage.

What have you done to to deserve such pain
what demands did you inflict?
Just a want and need to love him 
and for loyalty to you insist.

But such words are an affront to him 
how dare you ask for this? 
The love you share upon him
is returned with the force of a fist,
all dispensed in the name of Love
three words he says so often,
but the meaning of Love that he bestows
is rancid stale and rotten.

This man insults his gender's name
for he dares to be named one at least
For he is no man or human being
He bears the number of the beast!

Dedicated to a dear friend.

Written and Composed by Mark Longson  2017 (c) all rights reserved

Details | Mark Longson Poem

Anger

Sometimes to sit in silence 
is the most mature thing to do
Sometimes to sit in silence
Our feelings can come through

Sometimes to just say nothing
just let words pass you by
Will save another argument
where one of you will cry

Sometimes to sit with no recourse
thinking how things once had been 
where words were once honest and pure
flattering and less mean

The silence will focus all your thoughts
and bring memories of the past
and help you find the hidden lane
to get you back on your path.

And Once you have compiled your thoughts
and let your anger go
your love will conquer all the hate
Your relationship will grow!

So dont be eager to lash out or fight
reacting in a flash
Stop and sit in silent state
let your anger pass

Composed by Mark Longson 2017 (c)

Details | Mark Longson Poem

Depression

I'm suffering from depression
I'm really feeling down
I'm suffering from depression
I need to write this down

They say that I should see a doc 
To tell me that I'm ill
They say that I should see a doc
And get from him a pill

But then the questions start to come
why do you feel this way?
Get it in your stupid head 
I don't wish to flipping say!

I don't remember it's been so long
since I last laughed and joked
and why should I care anyway
being prodded and being poked

It seems that life just gets too hard
to hard for me to cope
but I'm not supposed to talk of it
being a grown up bloke

I lock myself inside my shell
and throw away the key
I lock myself inside my shell
not wanting to be free.

Sometimes I think about a bridge
and standing on the edge
sometimes I think about a bridge
a picture in my head

would I jump or be too scared
my mind spins like a reel
would it end all this numbness
and emptiness I feel

Details | Mark Longson Poem

I Need Someone

I need someone who when they awake 
think of me as I would you.
I need someone who I can trust 
and to me they will be true.

I need someone who has my back 
no knife waiting to pierce.
I need someone who's only fix 
is my whispers in their ears.

I need someone to be there for me 
when times get rough or bad
I need someone to spend time with me 
and make my heart so glad

I need someone who listens to me 
and the things I have to say
I need someone who calms me down 
and tells me it will be ok.

I need someone to comfort me 
and talk long into the night.
I need someone to hold me close 
when I wake up with a fright.

I need someone who loves my look 
when in the morning I arise
I need someone who yearns for me 
and to gaze into my eyes.

I know I know I need someone! 
my needs seem vast its true 
So the only question on my mind.

IS THIS WHAT YOU NEED TOO??????


Written and composed by Mark Longson (c) 2018