Best Narrative Poems

His poems refuse
to mourn his passing, they
detach themselves from
books, magazines, wall hangings
...

You weren't well or really ill yet either;
just a little tired, your handsomeness
tinged by grief or anticipation, which brought
to your face a thoughtful, deepening grace.
...

Today the Masons are auctioning
their discarded pomp: a trunk of turbans,
gemmed and ostrich-plumed, and operetta costumes
labeled inside the collar "Potentate"
...

Dear Dr. Pintu Mahakul,

Heartiest CongratulationsTo You!
...

The great man turns his back on the island.
Now he will not die in paradise
nor hear again
the lutes of paradise among the olive trees,
...

S. Patrick. You who are bent, and bald, and blind,
With a heavy heart and a wandering mind,
Have known three centuries, poets sing,
Of dalliance with a demon thing.
...

WEAPON, shapely, naked, wan!
Head from the mother's bowels drawn!
Wooded flesh and metal bone! limb only one, and lip only one!
...

PALLAS, attending to the Muse's song,
Approv'd the just resentment of their wrong;
And thus reflects: While tamely I commend
Those who their injur'd deities defend,
...

I

Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate:
His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull,
...

Night is fallen
and the single star writing in the heavens
remembers...
...

Dear God,
Let our borrowers pay us back
We can take no more flack
We have to remain on track
...

In that soft season, when descending show'rs
Call forth the greens, and wake the rising flow'rs;
When op'ning buds salute the welcome day,
...

If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
Perhaps mankind might find the path they miss--
But then 'twould spoil much good philosophy.
...

Nothing so difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end;
For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning
The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend,
...

Thank you for representing life as a Gothic horror
with the nerve-wrecking shocks of demented men,
dad as Heathcliff, mom as Mr Rochester’s mad first
wife and you a strange mixture between Jane Eyre
...

'There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which,--taken at the flood,'--you know the rest,
And most of us have found it now and then;
At least we think so, though but few have guess'd
...

Ah!--What should follow slips from my reflection;
Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be
As à-propos of hope or retrospection,
As though the lurking thought had follow'd free.
...

THE leaves were fading when to Esthwaite's banks
And the simplicities of cottage life
I bade farewell; and, one among the youth
...

Obscurest night involv'd the sky,
Th' Atlantic billows roar'd,
When such a destin'd wretch as I,
Wash'd headlong from on board,
...

.


GIFT from the cold and silent Past!
...

LONG time have human ignorance and guilt
Detained us, on what spectacles of woe
Compelled to look, and inwardly oppressed
...

Maimed, beggared, grey; seeking an alms; with nod
Of palsy doing task of thanks for bread;
Upon the stature of a God,
...

Lily was my co-league,
Never tired of fatigue,
Strong with her pen,
One female, while others were men.
...

The shaft of narrative peers down.
The soul's a petrified fleck of partridge this October.
Mud-spattered, it thinks it's brush, it thinks
...

A flash from the past
A narrative

sitting amongst the oaks in my backyard,
...

“Whether all towns and all who live in them—
So long as they be somewhere in this world
That we in our complacency call ours—
Are more or less the same, I leave to you.
...

THE pleasant isle of Rügen looks the Baltic water o'er,
To the silver-sanded beaches of the Pomeranian shore;

And in the town of Rambin a little boy and maid
...

When I saw this fabulous flower
In the cottage that I lived in Coonoor,
Just behind the laced windows,
I was wonder struck,
...

IN life oft ills from self-imprudence spring;
As proof, Candaules' story we will bring;
In folly's scenes the king was truly great:
His vassal, Gyges, had from him a bait,
...

Prepared to ridicule himself, this fool
Is guarded against the jibes
Of those he thinks less inclined to self-criticism.
How then is he to gauge his faults
...

If you want a receipt for that popular mystery,
Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon,
Take all the remarkable people in history,
Rattle them off to a popular tune!
...

A brilliant baby was born
To an elated Jewish couple,
Hermann and Pauline Koch Einstein,
On 14th March 1879,
...

(dedicated to Mr. Krystian Zimerman, a great pianist)

a rich ethnographic
a vaulted ceiling
...

Listen my children and you shall hear,
The life story of Taylor Swift loud and clear.
How she touched the hearts of many,
With her amazing songs plenty.
...

I.
Biggs was missing: Biggs had vanished; all the town was in a ferment;
For if ever man was looked to for an edifying end,
With due mortuary outfit, and a popular interment,
...

St. Patrick's Church was sparsely filled
For Friday morning mass
The seniors getting restless-
the clock reada quarter past.
...

A narrative poem about the book Twilight

Mountains of rain pouring down.
Slapping hard against the ground.
...

'No more of this, for Godde's dignity!'
Quoth oure Hoste; 'for thou makest me
So weary of thy very lewedness,* *stupidity, ignorance <1>
That, all so wisly* God my soule bless,
...

Oh for the nights when we used to sit
In the firelight's glow or flicker,
With the gas turned low and our pipes all lit,
...

This is a 'Flowing Acrostic' in which he narrative picks up the acrostical words - while at the same time maintaining the metre with lines of approximately co-syllabic. This gives the poem flow and balance.

! mpossible that's why it's a dream
...

Peace In Our Hearts….! A Poem, A Prose, A Narrative, A Whatever, BUT the most PRECIOUS and MOST IMPORTANT is Our Love, Emotions and Vision at our dear Nwighbours in these corona pandemic time....

I hope people feel more comfortable
...

The End.....

She sits in the dark, staring at the moon,
A love so fragile died today,
...

It's a one of a kind tale...
An unbelievable, kind of adventure saga...
My life-story, kind of fiction, novel -
A non-fiction, sort of auto-biography!
...

Narrative Poem About Friendship

While the fire is still flaming,
I write here for you
...

The first line of a story, thought or poem is usually what comes to me first. The source can be a phrase I happen to hear on the radio, or in a song. 'Rolling Them' is actually from a piece of a song I heard by Miranda Lambert. (I love country music, lots of stories there) .

The idea of the cowboy rolling his own also reminded me of my dad who at one point also rolled his own cigarettes.
...

I walk beside him
Scared to death.
I smile trying not to show it.
He smirks back.
...

i grew up with the promises
sweet, golden, yet never fulfilled
i worked the meaneal jobs for livin wages, only there wasnt much to live on, merely exist
from sad ghetto windows
...

Psychological
I write philosophically
narrative poems
added with a touch of
...

I would like to re-submit this exhaustive list of terms associated with poetry and hope that members will make use of the list to understand different kinds of poetry in a better way.
...

The shadows are for spies
Their ghostly entrance unknown
Arousing no suspicion
With their kindly gestures
...

His time and wealth all there
For him, possessed just to enjoy
But hunting was a pleasure where
His shooting skills he could employ.
...

When I finally hit 'submit'...or is it 'publish', P-H sent me this note, under a large RED Dot (with a WHITE 'x' inside the dot) :

'Please enter at up 150 characters in the 'Title' field.'
...

Of a person known as Peters I will humbly crave your leave
An unusual adventure into narrative to weave
Mr. William Perry Peters, of the town of Muscatel,
A public educator and an orator as well.
...

The Terigaadha,
The compiled verses of
The Buddhist Nuns
Is a Buddhist text.
...

As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
His devious course uncertain, seeking home;
...

At birth it is a rather small
and barely visible at all
identifier for the folks
and butt at times for silly jokes.
...

Nature's Revenge(Blank Verse Sonnet)

Blank Verse Sonnet is:
...

AHOY HALL Rotterdam

Tennis is my favourite sport.
I am watching this now in the Ahoy Hall of Rotterdam.
...

Gorgeous Full Moon
(A narrative poem)

Yesterday it was a very beautiful evening
...

(dedicated to my poet friend from India at poemhunter)

Bhim-bait-ka
Bheem sat on these rocks
...

We almost touch silence with bare hands
It hangs with tonal banalty over our reclining frames
Our love can hardly find a narrative structure
We have too many loose plots on the edges
...

Where's the Blind Child, so admirably fair,
With guileless dimples, and with flaxen hair
That waves in ev'ry breeze? he's often seen
...

Kadamba1 sheds leaves, grows new all thru the year,
Not in autumn alone, a wiser thing
To do, in my lay man's plain reckoning;
But spring's now here, a bedecked youthful bride,
...

Looking out this winter window
At white snow dusting green leaves
I sit and contemplate nature
And my artificial place on it.
...

My Poems are not Poetry
Poetry rhythm is essential part
Communicative act of rhythms
Where words created music
...

What is poetry?
I say it is mega-magnetic fun
When words play and tend to run
It is mega-magnetic fun
...

(A narrative)

Met her at the seminar and asked her over for an
early dinner. I assured her my aim was not to get
...

the unique world of myths
symbols and religious beliefs
most difficult to understand
...

The beginning of the end of our Canadian winter;
The ending of a British winter,
And their gentle spring ahead of ours.
I always think about these overlapping seasons,
...

(dedicated to Ms. Alina Cojocaru, a great Romanian ballerina)

flowing
precise
...

Kept in a golden cage
In royal assemblage,
Too dearly did the king
Love his nightingale's singing,
...

If not nigh sparingly used,
Metaphors might be abused.

Imagine ornaments on a body
...

SIFAN HASSAN, Champion London Marathon 2023

I once wrote a narrative poem about her:
Sifan Hassan,
...

I think that any art that starts my mental juices flowing is probably in resonance with some kind of source-realm. People like me are tyrannized by a totalizing tendency, so our understanding of the source-realm gets clothed in dogma or ideology. But I recognize the authenticity of art that vibrates from the source-realm and doesn't pin it down.

I was rescued from pinning down the source-realm because I tumbled for the transcendental number Pi. I think that Pi's interplay with its cousins is determinative: the truth-realm of eternal mathematical objects will not allow the void to be infertile. At the same time, the interplay of energy and transcendental numbers gives rise to open-ended processes: they are allowed to have their own inner vistas and histories.
...

I’m comfortable with your confronting me
hurling, albeit politely, the epic query

haunting your ‘tolerance’ and a fever
...

The sun tears through the heavens and
awakens me to a life beyond living.

My slumber opens the door to dreams
...

A beautiful girl is
A beautiful poem, a beautiful short story, a beautiful play, a beautiful sketch,
A beautiful memoir, a beautiful narrative,
Beautiful beautiful,
...

It is a bit shocking,
to have a dream
that is nothing,
not spectacular,
...

Islam is not a religion of terrorism,
Nor does it promote senseless barbarism,
It is a religion just like any other,
Teaching lessons of peace to one another,
...

It was a summer
So long ago, when you came
To pluck my blossom
I was just a tender bud
...

Journey often begins with uncertain
Sneaks its ways through dark lawn
Never finding rest until it's done.
...

Crossman, cross, so, or, man, as, oar, soar, on, an, Sam, car, cars, roam, moan;
The poor man!
The poor woman,
The poor child;
...

Seeing from close—from my top-floor terrace—
Swaying in joy, embracing nearby trees,
Her grey leaves falling off from its green face,
With every gentle burst of monsoon breeze,
...

GEOFFREY CHAUCER (11)
as narrated by Sylvia Frances Chan, the dutch poetess
My Foreword:
I have told here why I had begun to submit poems about the English author/poet Geoffrey Chaucer.
...

The Queen Of Sheba. Her Kingdom really existed in the land now called Yemen, a narrative by © Sylvia Frances Chan,
Dutch poetess, certified evangelist, world traveler
...

This island, this home
which has weathered storms
invasions through history
Boudica the first queen
...

As if, invisibly and unconsciously
Are you mocking at me or do you want me
To stop my journey definitively
...

The world seems to be spinning out of control.
In the name of God bombs are detonated.
Subordination of women,
...

Thousands feet trampling lawns, unhurriedly
Many faces, gazing at each other, non-smilingly
Exchanging thoughts in few words, meaningfully
All for his sake, yet he does not know, admittedly
...

1.
Research has shown that ballads were produced by all of society
working as a team. They didn't just happen. There was no guesswork.
The people, then, knew what they wanted and how to get it.
...

The life is not confined
Or by anyone else defined
It has its own meaning
The love has an art of winning
...

The after math of a voice,

So sweet as candy,
...

WHO COULD HELP ME?
TO STAND ON THE BEST ROOT OF COURAGE
DEFY WIND
STOP HURRICANE
...

This alien land is made of paper
Its pages stay firmly stuck together
Until this foreign creature slides them apart
She ruins their land like she has no heart
...

I'm in love
wow' the candles smoking up
wax is diripping making shapes like love hearts'
I guess now this is where the journey starts
...

Some think that a story has no place
in poetry - 'Put it in the short stories, '
he said, dismissing a poem I wrote
as a narrative, as though such verse
...

Alone, under clouded skies and darkness;
An angel awaits her knight in gloom,
Her cloak of white laced, tinsels sparkle;
To the silvery outlined puffed up moon.
...

After the moon
it was an unkempt night.

I wanted to kill the narrative
...

I was a learned meteorologist, studying azure atmosphere and vivid weather,
To give a prophetic daily forecast, like bees gliding remote locales of heather.

Often I had to issue advisories and warnings, like a jumbo roar of yellow lion,
...

Poetry scholastic, pedantic and medievalistic,
Poetry classical and theological,
Poetry metaphysical, moralistic and spiritual,
Poetry romantic, spontaneous, natural, imaginative, lyrical, fanciful and loveful,
...