Long Poems About Memories
#memories
Long poems about memories. 300 words or more, most recently published poems first.
Indie
Miss Indie
Miss Indie
Poem Published
Today 3:35am
Today 3:35am
how to steal a necklace
One
The first thing to remember
is that here
everyone is out for themselves
altruism doesn't exist
nothing is for free
Everytime I stay to drink
smoke free weed
I know I'll end up
in someone's bed
Getting off is never a guarantee
and I don't generally care
as long as I can get high
space out
spin out
laugh into the abyss
as my reflection shoots me
confused glances in a filmy mirror
Here I'm not really me
here I'm not really anyone
here I'm a version of...
The first thing to remember
is that here
everyone is out for themselves
altruism doesn't exist
nothing is for free
Everytime I stay to drink
smoke free weed
I know I'll end up
in someone's bed
Getting off is never a guarantee
and I don't generally care
as long as I can get high
space out
spin out
laugh into the abyss
as my reflection shoots me
confused glances in a filmy mirror
Here I'm not really me
here I'm not really anyone
here I'm a version of...
#memories
#narrative
17 reads
0 Comments
doreenheimer
Aether
Aether
Poem Published
18th Apr 2025 11:12am
18th Apr 2025 11:12am
Entry 1
I never quite know how to start these things.
For all the hours I've spent alone with notebooks and loose scraps of thought, non-fiction—if that’s even what this counts as—has never been my strength.
This isn’t a memoir. It’s not an autobiography. And it sure as hell isn’t a diary. But I digress.
I’m just some punk in my late twenties, born and raised in Georgia, right by the seaside banks of Batumi.
Living in what I often call a post-Soviet dystopia, something I’ve repeated many times to my comrade Marsy—more about them soon.
Like any proper Anarchist,...
For all the hours I've spent alone with notebooks and loose scraps of thought, non-fiction—if that’s even what this counts as—has never been my strength.
This isn’t a memoir. It’s not an autobiography. And it sure as hell isn’t a diary. But I digress.
I’m just some punk in my late twenties, born and raised in Georgia, right by the seaside banks of Batumi.
Living in what I often call a post-Soviet dystopia, something I’ve repeated many times to my comrade Marsy—more about them soon.
Like any proper Anarchist,...
#memories
#myself
#narrative
#nonfiction
#prose
65 reads
1 Comment
Nevermindthegaps
Poem Published
11th Apr 2025 11:27am
11th Apr 2025 11:27am
I Worry Boy
once we were warriors filled
with fierce pride
banging our fists to chest
we would shake with the need to bleed
or make bleed
we were men that knew the language of protection
we were men that knew the language of love
toward our family
that knew how to nurture
our hard curbed by their soft
but
warped by booze
violence turned inward
we directed hate at ourselves
letting it spill over our loved ones
and our pride
died
became a curse
cheap piss and beer breath ...
with fierce pride
banging our fists to chest
we would shake with the need to bleed
or make bleed
we were men that knew the language of protection
we were men that knew the language of love
toward our family
that knew how to nurture
our hard curbed by their soft
but
warped by booze
violence turned inward
we directed hate at ourselves
letting it spill over our loved ones
and our pride
died
became a curse
cheap piss and beer breath ...
#childhood
#memories
#parent #son
#parent #son
114 reads
7 Comments
darkcloud68
Poem Published
10th Apr 2025 7:09pm
10th Apr 2025 7:09pm
Talking To My Innocence
I am a old man that lives in a village, where the men die young. Well that's a proverb that I like. Think that I read it some where in a book.
Yet I have lived it's meaning. And I am still alive, so the young cats call me OG.
You know that means original gangster, dam but I am no gangster. So I don't adhere to that meaning but I understand it. Maybe at some point in my life I was young and confuse.
And I lost my way lost my innocence, in a not so innocent world. Maybe one gunshot in the dark. Silenced my innocent voice forever. And it may be outlined...
Yet I have lived it's meaning. And I am still alive, so the young cats call me OG.
You know that means original gangster, dam but I am no gangster. So I don't adhere to that meaning but I understand it. Maybe at some point in my life I was young and confuse.
And I lost my way lost my innocence, in a not so innocent world. Maybe one gunshot in the dark. Silenced my innocent voice forever. And it may be outlined...
#memories
#SelfReflection
30 reads
0 Comments
Tenderloin
Poem Published
6th Apr 2025 1:40pm
6th Apr 2025 1:40pm
All Good Things
#lover
#memories
#passion
232 reads
1 Comment
ReggiePoet
Reggie
Reggie
Poem Published
3rd Apr 2025 12:46pm
3rd Apr 2025 12:46pm
Adolescents of Rome
#BDSM
#memories
#rhyming
123 reads
1 Comment
Vision_of_insanity
Poem Published
14th Mar 2025 9:25am
14th Mar 2025 9:25am
I know your heart is wicked
Little Harry Sack was barely 6 years old when he found out by his parents that his heart was wicked
His parents were religious fanatics, who read the good book each and every hour
They isolated little Harry from the rest of the world
His father worked on the farm producing milk & meat to sell in town
His mother was a stay at home mom, strict and overbearing
Many of the locals didn't even know Harry Sack existed
His parents taught him that in order to be faithful to the lord, you must do what we say or want
Harry was given chores from morning...
His parents were religious fanatics, who read the good book each and every hour
They isolated little Harry from the rest of the world
His father worked on the farm producing milk & meat to sell in town
His mother was a stay at home mom, strict and overbearing
Many of the locals didn't even know Harry Sack existed
His parents taught him that in order to be faithful to the lord, you must do what we say or want
Harry was given chores from morning...
#family
#memories
#prison
#religion
#violence
82 reads
8 Comments
Ewayne
Poem Published
26th Feb 2025 8:24pm
26th Feb 2025 8:24pm
She Stands Alone, Yet Never Alone
Alone I stand in Miami,
One-bedroom dreams, a downsize from a life I once knew.
Four-bedroom echoes still whisper in my mind,
But here...here, I am free.
The ocean hums my name like it’s always known me,
Like it’s been waiting for me to wake up.
Sunrise kisses the waves like they belong together,
Like they’ve never known separation
And I wonder, is that what I’m learning?
To belong to myself, fully.
To trust that even when I feel alone,
I am exactly where I am meant to be.
Dreams I once scribbled in secret
Became my...
One-bedroom dreams, a downsize from a life I once knew.
Four-bedroom echoes still whisper in my mind,
But here...here, I am free.
The ocean hums my name like it’s always known me,
Like it’s been waiting for me to wake up.
Sunrise kisses the waves like they belong together,
Like they’ve never known separation
And I wonder, is that what I’m learning?
To belong to myself, fully.
To trust that even when I feel alone,
I am exactly where I am meant to be.
Dreams I once scribbled in secret
Became my...
#gratitude
#happiness
#hope
#memories
#SelfReflection
151 reads
5 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
24th Feb 2025 7:39pm
24th Feb 2025 7:39pm
Secrets - The Night He Fled
Late on Sunday night, I fix a mug of coffee and update the secret journal. I'm not a psychologist. I don't know why people block out memories or reinvent them or conveniently stash them away in the hope of forgetting, but I've been remembering more stuff this evening – stuff to do with Gordon as a boy and an incident on the estate that caused tension between his parents and mine. Meeting up with Gordon again has somehow touched on this other stuff.
New Entry:
I'm not sure when the event in question occurred, perhaps a year before the murder, but definitely in the middle of a...
New Entry:
I'm not sure when the event in question occurred, perhaps a year before the murder, but definitely in the middle of a...
#family
#friendship
#grief
#memories
#mystery
97 reads
0 Comments
Johnny_Silver
Poem Published
19th Feb 2025 11:06pm
19th Feb 2025 11:06pm
Good Night
Amy's waking up to a half-empty bed
Looks around for her other half
It's me, I'm by the window, looking out at the rain
Another winter's come to freeze the dark
She says she's ok
I wish I knew the truth
She shivers and stutters over the cold
I guess we were children in ice
She wraps her arms around me like a blanket all tight and warm
Says "I'm sorry..."
What for?
"I'm sorry I'm leaving"
Why?
"Because you deserve better and I'm freezing"
Amy's the chill in the air that shivers on my...
Looks around for her other half
It's me, I'm by the window, looking out at the rain
Another winter's come to freeze the dark
She says she's ok
I wish I knew the truth
She shivers and stutters over the cold
I guess we were children in ice
She wraps her arms around me like a blanket all tight and warm
Says "I'm sorry..."
What for?
"I'm sorry I'm leaving"
Why?
"Because you deserve better and I'm freezing"
Amy's the chill in the air that shivers on my...
#love
#memories
#sadness
81 reads
0 Comments
tasia_arlene
Tasia Arlene
Tasia Arlene
Poem Published
19th Feb 2025 2:31am
19th Feb 2025 2:31am
hands~
I recognize you
So delicately
By the sight of your hands
Memories tease my brain
Of fingertips tracing my every curve
I told you I hated them
So you pulled them closer to you
Tangling us into one
To feel every scar
Caused by prior wounds and broken skin
You loved them
I could never wrap my head around that
To be admired for the things that kept me up at night
Violent depictions for me
Were glimpses that made your voice shake
Hips that fit...
So delicately
By the sight of your hands
Memories tease my brain
Of fingertips tracing my every curve
I told you I hated them
So you pulled them closer to you
Tangling us into one
To feel every scar
Caused by prior wounds and broken skin
You loved them
I could never wrap my head around that
To be admired for the things that kept me up at night
Violent depictions for me
Were glimpses that made your voice shake
Hips that fit...
#hurt
#love
#lust
#memories
#passion
205 reads
0 Comments
Stoney223
WOLF BAY33
WOLF BAY33
Poem Published
17th Feb 2025 2:01pm
17th Feb 2025 2:01pm
Secret Family Tree
From what I can remember when we all gathered together, at Big Mama's house where the elders of the women's, would prepare a Home Town cook out for gathering, for the family. IT was a time that I will never forget. As it was a gathering of the elders and uncles and aunts and sisters and brothers, with their off springs children running around playing children games. While the olders people would play cards or shuffle board games, as the elders would look out and see the families all together in one place. Yet they could be found sitting up under a old oak tree, in the shade of the afternoon...
#childhood
#confusion
#memories
#SelfDiscovery
#SelfReflection
117 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Poems About Memories
