Long Shoulder Poems

Long Shoulder Poems. Below are the most popular long Shoulder by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shoulder poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Aha Eureka

Remember when that flash of insight
last self-ignited in your expectant thoughts
blasting away the fog of uncertainty, complexity and doubt.
A sudden aha Eureka answer, pure, simple, so succinct, beautiful.
To some this flash of aha is called duration, or a blink. insight, acumen, Eureka!

But, my friend, how, why, when, where, do these Aha moments arise?
Can we conger up more for ourselves, fill a treasure cheat with insights?
Or is this quest a waste of time, as no treasure map exits. But does it? 
Can we ever know with what, and how, and when to cast the magic wand?
Does our search for meaning, inquiries lay the foundation?
Can we prepare the way ahead in some way or other?
Think back, my friend, did these gems 
always spring up unexpectedly, and what occurred beforehand?

These aha Euekas cannot be scheduled or delayed, 
cannot be snuck-up on, snared nor detected, 
cannot be forced out nor guaranteed to appear.
Euekas are not rewards for hard work, perhaps the opposite is true.
How often does lazy and shallow wader get the creative rewards.
Chance is never fair in its rewards for hard work.

Often, an Aha taps us on the shoulder, we are least expecting it, 
out of the blue, saying: "Look at Me. Look at Me". 
When gobbled up with glee, it washes over and transforms us. 
We are never be the same. It makes our day.
Does begging the question, ignoring the answers laid out
make it pop up from the soup into an inquiring mind?
Or does it appear when we raise questions to that have already been answered well?
Does it appear when we thin-slice the book to separate the leaves?
Often mistakes and errors have led to great breakthroughs
like penicillin, radioactivity, the color mauve and plastics.
What does this mean to you and your Aha Eureka pot of gold?
Should we be less careful, more observant for the unusual?

The Aha Eureka is a fleeting feeling, easily lost in the blink of an eye,
rampant, capricious, imperceptible, unbounded, elusive
like seeing something in the corner of the eye at dusk,
if you look straight at it, it's gone, look back again, it's there again.
For me it can be a matter of serendipity.
The more I see, the more I do, the more I explore, the more hits are triggered.
Many total restarts from scratch, often helps.
But, for me the one simple things
that works is lay me down to rest,
and to sleep on it!


Whats the Difference Between Me and You

I didn’t grow up trying to better anyone 
but I bettered the bitter and discovered haters one by one 
turns out it’s a lonely place when you’re the champion 
everybody wants a piece everyday on repeat 
you see them looking at you with the envy in their eyes 
because I worked out while they sat eating all the pies 
the effort and the discipline continuous developing 
playing sport and at the gym 
while they weren’t doing anything 
they think that I was born athletic lucky genes they say 
while they watch tv smoke and laze lacking energy each day 
hours they spend dreaming about glory and achieving what they ain’t
while I compete in competition hard work starts to pay 
living dreams the actual scenes and getting lots of praise 
while no one ever notices the ones dreaming they are great 
desperate for attention they start to label you that way 
I don’t want attention I enjoy the sports I play 
they look for ways they better you in any category 
and then they talk aloud about it most assuredly 
making sure that people know until they all agree 
they’ve finally found the sweet spot they’ve found a victory 
but then you go and win something and all the people see 
then everybody talks about it and you are centre scene 
and this just grows the hate resentment and the jealously 
so now they will compete with you every possibility 
behaviour fuelled by envy and it’s obvious to me 
if you are lazy you’ll grow bitter and be a nobody 
and you’ll become an empty shell who dreams they do achieve 
desperate to be noticed by the whole community 
and you will have to tell yourself just how great you are 
over time you will believe it and see yourself a star 
but that is called delusion you’re not who you think you are 
becoming confident and cocky a reality apart 
your happy days will be the days others suffer hard 
you’ll kick them down and dance around and talk to them real harsh
entitled lazy liar horrid no empathy or heart 
and this is how you will achieve as the narcissist you are 
all because you sat and dreamed and smoked and drank the bar listening to winning stories of those held in high regard 
and as your ego disappears amongst the mental scars 
you’ll be wishing you were someone else hating who you
saying lots of nasty to people so high up above you
while they can’t even hear you they just laugh and shoulder shrug you
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Mask of Snowy White

I came home one evening after a hard day at work,
To find a surprise waiting for me.
I ran to the table, my heart filled of glee.
I imagined him sneaking in with a sexy little smirk.

It was a wooden box, beside it a mask of snowy white
I opened it up and found a note.
Written on it was a cute quote:
“We will dance until the clock strikes midnight”

I followed the rose pedals sprinkled on the floor,
They led me to my bedroom.
My heart went boom, boom, boom,
As I opened the door.

I could not believe what I found,
For it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
An elegant white with a beads of green.
On my bed was a gorgeous gown.

There was another letter,
This one written out in pedals all across the bed.
The message read:
“There is a hole in my heart, and seeing you tonight will make it all better”

I put on the dress and looked in the mirror.
And I found another remark.
“Get all dressed up and come to the old park,
Our moment together draws nearer and nearer.”

I rushed down the stairs,
Grabbed the mask on the way out.
Ran down the street, my mind clear of all doubt,
For this man was the answer to my prayers.

I got to the park and saw him waiting,
And I discovered I was not the only one to wear a mask.
He told me that I had one more task.
He said “Close your eyes and think back to when we started dating”

Obeying him, I closed my eyes,
And without me knowing, he got down on one knee.
Everything fell silent, then I heard “Desiree will you marry me?”
That’s when my heart burst into a million fireflies.

I opened my eyes, stuck in a trance
As I was not expecting this thrill.
I flung my arms around him and replied “Oh Stephen of course I will!”
Just then he grabbed me and we began to dance.

Just like his note said,
We danced until the clock struck midnight,
Holding me close with all his might,
Right on his shoulder is where I placed my head.

The rain began to pour,
So we ran hand in hand.
He said “This is not how I planned”
Then we reached my door.

We entered my house,
Where it was all cozy and dry.
Once again my heart began to fly,
As I stared into the eyes of my soon to be spouse.

All he said was “I Love You”
That was all I wanted to hear,
For me to wipe away all fear.
Knowing he loved me, I replied “I Love You Too”

*Not a true story, just a sort of fanatasy I suppose*

Premium Member pink hair and motorcycles

you remember that one time when ava fell off the swings and cut her knee?
how everyone laughed at her for her childish hubris in thinking she could jump and land,
unscathed, from that high a distance?
how the laughter roared as they watched a 9-year-old cry
and clutch her knee with both hands,
creating a burrow for blood under her nails?
how, without a moment of hesitation,
you ran to her, helped her up, and walked her to the nurse’s office?

yeah. didn’t think you’d remember it, if i’m being totally honest.
well, that moment, watching you put her arm around your shoulder for balance,
so she could hop her way down a flight and half of stairs for a single band-aid,
i think I fell in love with you.
maybe love is an exaggeration,
but looking at these old photos of us,
with your hair flying in the wind and my hair tucked in your helmet
as i clutched your waist for dear life,
the two of us,
flying down the freeway on your motorcycle,
i can’t think of a better word to describe my feelings for you.

these pictures,
now covered in layers of dust,
remind me of everything that could have been.
of everything that will never be.
i lost you so many addictions ago,
i guess i should’ve known when your words turned to lies,

and your lies turned to routine,
but i didn’t want to believe that the girl
with the bright pink hair and tacky leather jackets,
the girl that i had fallen so hard for,
was now gone.
that she had been replaced with someone who simply
went through the motions every day,
no longer able to feel anything for anyone,
someone who looked in the mirror,
wishing that the reflection would be blank.

the doctors say that your liver gave out,
but i think that the real cause was that you gave up.
i saw how hard you fought,
how you ran away from who you’d become,
leaving us behind in a race to find yourself.
you were gone long before the red line representing your heart’s last efforts flattened.
you’ve been gone so long that i’ve had to rely on these pictures
to make sure that you were ever real.
you’ve become nothing but a memory,
a hope, a wish for better,
a tragic story that i wish i never was a part of.

i miss you,
more than you could ever know,
more than i can ever process.
i miss you because no matter what happened,
no matter where you went,
no matter how long you’ve been gone,
i still loved you.
© Oliver Chu  Create an image from this poem.

Blackmail In Utopia

Two faithful souls stand listless in the great big tower 
overlooking the stranded city that once stood tall
yearning for a quiet place to lay their heads 
while far beyond the deserted land 
a soft blue light gleams gracefully above tranquil skies,
dancing shadows rocking to midnight tunes, 
and sweet melodies echoing from the gigantic moon. 

She spans more than a thousand feet long soaking
up the exhausted  earth, her immeasurable depths
cuts and carve through  valleys and streams 
with clear blue water and powdery white sand 
what more could you ask for on that distant land. 
They have been planning this trip for many years,
but when the time draws near their saving  disappears. 

An empty refrigerator with two trays of frozen ice
lean against the corner  of the kitchen
in their ten bedroom mansion
and a bare pantry exposing a slice of mildew bread 
filled with little mice nibbling  and  playing tug of war.

Not many people knew their story
they have been broke for twenty years 
but lived a painful  lie, cutting corners 
making back door transaction, 
eating lamb and turkey from profits
made from sordid deals. 

Their empire that once stood tall hangs in dismay 
While it watches the world going up in flame
by those who continue to play treacherous games.
 
Sobibor and Hiroshima horrors of the past
Should have cleared the way for a more sophisticated path
But now athoroughfare mixed with complexity 
packed with insidiousness 
have ducks walking around 
quacking without wings or tails

They finally got an offer to go to Utopia.
with packed  bags not a  penny in their name, 
they set off for Utopia hoping to find a new life again
but when they got their it was the same old begrimed game. 

Their entire world has been shaken, 
shaken by its own guilt and self-reproach, 
the transgression that their ancestors have borne
have been handed down for generations to shoulder
 
A land that they believe was pure and holy
has turned into nightmare and horror
dreadful things dismount in dark corners
women raped strangers abused
yet religion forms the core of the throne

They have witnessed empires toppled, 
Kingdoms have fallen in their sight
Rulers have shaken and wept bitterly 
causing the great big god to balance the scale
but blackmail in Utopia remains a formidable  game

                                                            ©2013 Christine Phillips
Form: Narrative


Damsel In Distress

Heartbroken lass bereft of eminent beau
papa doth vicariously experience her
(mine daughter's) grievous woe.

Unfair a budding promising relationship nought
going to incorporate wedded bliss,
when for all the world
the strong humble lad
absconded to Puerto Rican his homeland.

Thus pained University
of Pennsylvania alumna
("star student") since grade one
at Belmont Hills Elementary
whose high school alma mater
i.e. Harriton High School,
now glum Oakland California transplant.

I (biological father),
who helped beget offspring
writhes with agony,
cuz he and the missus
sowed wild oats
during prime time,
when irresistible call of the wild
overtook wisdom to shuck contraceptive
yielding the miracle of life.

Parenthood never ended
just because declaration of independence
and autonomy witnessed natural propensity
for progeny to reliant become on self
forced shoulder living expense
no only for herself,
but deux darling
tortoiseshell dappled

five month old kittens
most certainly a constant reminder,
when she and he "two peas in a pod"
shared so many college campus memories,
whereby appearances hinted
and predicted a shared destiny
between two love birds.

An abrupt cleavage
rent asunder never witnessing
mutual graceful dotage
figuratively saddled once ebullient psyche
unnecessarily bogged our engineering minded lady
with cumbersome equipage
after they spent precious
young adulthood years together

emulating how married couple live, I gauge
such scenario, cuz talk of wedding bells
filled the (telephonic) airwaves,
whereby yours truly feeling blessed
potential prodigal son in law
his earning hand over fist big bucks
employed at Silicon Valley company
geared toward marketing fitness application.

Unsure how said high achiever
bolstered with you go girl refrain,
(who ofttimes communicated with Zayda,
i.e. his demise a crushing sorrow),
which inevitable prolonged decline

sundered special rapport
since more'n threescore
Earth orbits around the sun
papa acquired mechanical engineer degree
working within Aerospace Division
at General Electric.

Impossible mission not to care
despite mein kampf punctuated
with mine wanderlust flair
marital covenant garden variety
wordsmith did greatly impair
triggering hostility within mine humble lair
adulterer letter forcibly donned as outerwear.

Tale of Two Angels

Tale of two angels
who lived in a poor neighborhood
who thought nothing would work
but God knew it would.

Everyday they woke up to nothing
no food, no water, no new clothes
but no one knew
but only God knows.

Their mother prayed everynight 
to the Lord on the thrown,
wishing all her tears and troubles
would one day be gone.

She did the best she could
all that she could 
to raise her beautiful daughters
on her own and everyday this is what she told them.

"I gave you wings to fly 
and a mouth to confess and never tell a lie.
I gave you lungs and air to breathe
I gave you a shoulder to lean on 
when you couldn't beat the speed."

One Christmas Eve,
the girls were bored
so their friends invited them to a church.
Instead of having nothing to do,
in the church they did discover who...
they discovered a youth meeting being held
in the back of the church.

They walked into the room 
just as steady as they pleased,
they sat down on their knees
and listened to what their was left to say,
which made them quite pleased.

They went home after the sermon,
went to their room, got on their knees
and began to cry, they sat on the floor
in her time of weakness and dispare
to think and wonder how much their mother really cared.

Shouting out to the Lord, they did scream
their love for God had grown
every stitch and seam.

"Lord she has done so much 
to provide for us
now can you hold her hand and stand beside us.
Christmas is not about presents, it's about 
celebrating your birthday, your name
its not about growing up in fortune and fame.
Lord you are God
and we know you will provide
but I pray this pray
to the heavenly father that sits on his thrown 
in the sky." They prayed this prayer over and over again
until there was nothing left to hear 
except for the sound of the wind.

The next morning they woke up to find
a tree full of presents,
a table with breakfast already made,
and a dinner being prepared as if for a hundred slaves.

The family rejoiced
because God would always make a way
when things were going wrong
a way was made out of no way.

He started with little and everything multiplied
they rejoiced so much
their praises did reach the sky.

It started to rain
"Don't worry child, Jesus is crying
and rejoicing to because we are so blessed
 to have two little angels like you."
Form:

The Quieter You Are

ENOUGH!

I felt deaf from the ‘noise’ of information,
constantly butting, buzzing against my mantra of:
“The quieter you are… the more you… hear!”
At present, my lifestyle felt media manipulated:
tv, radio, newspaper, mobile, computer.. ad infinitum!
Besieged by endless emails, monopolizing mobiles,
beset by frenzied yaps from apps!
Enough is enough is….. ENOUGH, 
I have to escape from the unrelenting hullabaloo.
Can the human brain endure so much information
and who am I, an individual thinker or group dancer?

However, relief sat just around the corner
as next morning I boarded the flight to Reykjavik.
A three-hour taxi journey with a taciturn islander, 
people and communication diminishing by the mile
until finally a twig of a boat out to Ellidaey Island.
Boating and bobbing towards the uninhabited …hideaway,
an isolated jigsaw piece of land
off the southern coast of Iceland,
I appraise a small-boned building clinging to its side
with ‘RIDICULOUS’ scribbled all over it.

Someone had said Iceland was a niceland
where you could float free, peace and tranquillity!
But someone hadn’t warned me about…Mr Loneliness 
Who was soon tapping me sharply on the shoulder.
So here I sit, three days into my week’s stay
in the island’s lodge, dubbed the world’s loneliest house,
where the only neighbours are passing ships and puffing puffins.
No internet, no tv, no electricity, no running nor strolling.. water
just remote, alone and contemplating my countenance
while wondering if God is lonely too!

Suddenly, clouds bump and bruise against each other 
as they race away before the darkness snarls in.
Soon, night has sent in its stormtroopers
who land and splinter into shadow groups
while wind angrily sprints up to the house
bombing it with blockbuster punches.
Then rain happily joins in, machine-gunning the house 
until the building begins to stagger and stumble.
I check my face and it is still in the same place
but I sit timorously trembling, tyrannised and terrified
while my eyes follow the house’s dimly lit path
as it wags its tail to the cliff’s edge
and jumps into the void of darkness.
But this poem is a broken wrist, with a twist,
as suddenly, my bones brittle and inside myself…..I faint!
What possibly could happen now?
But there it is..
the knock at the front door!             


Ian Souter
© Ian Souter  Create an image from this poem.

With-In a Dream

If only I could ride upon the back of a dragonfly~
O', what journey I would behold...

I receive the wind's forced breath against my face-and revel in my locks rolling in the vibrant 
sunlight.
We hover just above a splash of rainbow painted flowers, 
that kiss my toes with open petals of joy.
The scent so pure, 
shall decorate my skin forevermore.

We crest high into the ocean tinted sky.
Humbly greet birds which share in our gift,
and delight us in symphonies of angelic praise.

I close my eyes for a startled moment,
as we dance through a vineyard of bumble bees-
"Buzz,Buzz," They caution sternly to us, their unexpected visitors.
A smile imposes my lips at the thought of their disrupted task;
Only to pass them, look over my shoulder and witness their purpose resume within natural 
elegance.

A shimmering mirror of water now lies underfoot.
I feel the warmth of the sun's reflection cast up under our joined form.
"Faster, faster!" I command my fairy-friend.
As I lay down flat and wrap my limbs snugly around to secure myself, our speed begins to 
flourish.

With quick, steady, pace, we descend onto the water's surface. 
Skips and twists- twirl into a tango of splashes,
which shower my face with each perfectly intentional bounce.
The tickle rises up from deep in my belly,
I laugh, a laugh full of true obliviation.
Dragonfly now lifts, higher and higher we go- 
As I glide upon heavenly stilled wings.

We drift within utopian clouds, 
they pass before our sights like vapored curtains before a theater of whimsy, unveiling a 
masterpiece.
The presented gift, is that of majestic mountain tops that promise the scent of sweetly 
perfumed evergreen. 
This aroma leaves me breathless. 
The aroma evokes childhood visions of wishing stars, 
and kisses goodnight.
I inhale the memory for a moment longer, 
cherishing the scent before I must once again grow older.

My friend I have been blessed to dance in the breeze with,
slows to a transcending idol.
We encircling the center of a noble rose.
We descend gently into the heart of the queen of flowers,
and land on her royal stage.
I delicately climb down, lay upon her silk; 
and closed my eyes to dream. 
Dreams which have atlas' transpired to become,
my long awaited reality.

If only I could ride upon the back of a dragonfly~
O', what journey I would behold...

Dark-Haired Ninja Over My Hips

I watched as the dark grew around his eyes.
He came through the window,
Stepping like a shadow.
He was the night, he was the ghost, he was the 
Unaided fighter as he reached for my side.
And I so desperately wanted to caress his masked face. 
His pace was noiseless and so attractive,
Yet death was nearer with every step,
I thought.
Still, I didn’t care if my life would have ended 
That night, stolen by the elusive ninja… 
I wanted him even closer.
He quickly searched the inside of his shozoku,
Only to reveal a deadly suriken.
Breathless, as he approached, I stood there, 
Not wanting to disenchant from his spell.
With one blow, the suriken ripped 
The shoulder of my nightgown.
Flowing red stained my pillow
And it felt so real.
Oh, how I wanted his knife at my throat,
Me, his target of the night,
And how I sighed when he drew 
His katana.
With one lethal strike I would have 
Plunged on the floor, choking for my last breath,
Yet he gently traced the contour of my 
Trembling chin… trembling, but only for his touch.
My tears sparkled in the cold, hard steel
As I sensed his breath arising.
I only heard his samurai chuckle and with no warning
He hurled his sword back into the dark.
We both moaned in anxious passion
When he bore my hand into a painful 
Wrist lock.
I did not care, I did not see, I did not feel anything aside 
The dark-haired ninja over my hips.
Our mangled bodies mirrored in the shiny steel of his forgotten blade,
His chest crowning over mine,
His hands fondling in my hair, down to my aroused breasts.
Two naked bodies trapped in my jujitsu legs.
A ninja so dark, so passionate, so fast,
He gently pulled aside my hidden Sai from under the cushion. 
He kissed my breasts, my wrists, my hair,
My lips…
My shoulder, he patched with his soothing mouth.
We locked in kiss so quickly, his tongue
Bitter from my blood, snapping at my neck
And torso while he pushed inside me, deeper.
Invisible in the dark, he loved me
In endless ways, my fragile ninja rested 
On the top of my chest.
I stroked his hair in content and silence,
Not even knowing his name.
A dark-haired ninja lay over my hips
When dawn came chewing at our lashes.
I then turned, not to see his figure,
Relying on my silent samurai
Of the dusk that I’ll go back to sleep
And he’ll go back to black.


© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila

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