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Long Devotion Poems

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

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Elisa Christensen | Details |

The Inner Chamber

THE INNER CHAMBER

Please.  Stop holding back on me.

Like a child standing at the neighborhood ice cream truck, arm outstretched, eyes huge, mouth watering.

I stand here longing to slip underneath your decades of cold-rolled steel armor and touch the real you.

Your soft underbelly where your greatest fears run amuck through your darkest worlds. 
 
Where you hide the monsters you are sure will send me screaming, 
Stuck deeply with their sharpest swords, 
A trail of blood decorating my getaway.
?Where you go to revisit the smell of your newborn’s head and 
The sound of the thousand “I love you’s” that have decorated 
Your heart, like a high ranking general.

His bright, glistening medals lining his proud Chest
Just as your children’s “I love you’s” decorate your soft, gooey middle core, 
That part of you no one else gets to see.

To open these innermost, secret chambers, 
Would be to allow another warrior into your most private sanctuary.

The space where you lay down your weapons, 
Remove your many layers of armor.

I get that.  It’s a most dangerous proposal.
One you haven’t had much luck with in your past.

I understand that when the elixir of youth’s innocence,
Formed a rosy gauze over your insight, 
And your understanding of how your species really works-

You allowed a few in.
I know what they did,

Betrayals scattered across 
Your sacred sanctuary,
Littering the once pristine floors,
That you initially built.
 
Floors that were not lacking in any way-
From the purest white ideals,
The hopes and impossible delusions,
That a teen bride imbibes as she
Sweetly dreams of her white wedding day.

While your armor may be a suitable deterrent for most, 
I can see it is transparent in some places.
Worn thin from years of overuse.

You should know that.

Through these unintended, accidental windows,
I can see what lies there.
Multiple masses of thick scar tissue where-
The injury of betrayal and the loss of innocence 
Played out like a well-executed horror film,
Leading you to absolute conviction concerning 
The danger such risks can afford.

Should I ever be the very rare, honored guest, 
Chosen to visit you there,
I can’t promise you that I won’t ever
Pull a shank from my pinions and consider
Hacking at your soft underbelly.

I could probably even get a few small
Yet effective weapons past your metal detectors, 
Your multiple teams of soldiers standing guard.
But would I?  Would I pose that danger?

I’ve seen how we can dissolve 
Into tattered, faded copies of ourselves 
Marked with coffee rings and ink spills.

Our most evil versions of ourselves taking over
Like the energy vampires who manipulate 
Every conversation and exhaust all those around them.

I cannot say to you that I have never attacked
With both barrels blazing,
After sustaining a life-threatening blow
From your finest canons.

You know that I have.

While certainly not my proudest moments,
I cannot promise that I, 
In all my medieval humanness and imperfections,
Could rise above my own scars and 
Open wounds and turn to face you,
With my finest intentions displayed proudly 
Like the white feathers of a great owl.

When the salt is still burning through
The wounds that we both knew 
Would probably not ever heal, 
Due to the unexpected, additional attacks 
They have been pummeled with--

When our shadow people join forces to
Show us just how ugly we really can be--
When my own fears and pain from
My own scar tissue turns me into someone
I’d avoid at all costs in a dark alley--

How can I promise you complete safety?
How could I ever be truthful in saying
I could never hurt you,
That I would never consider smuggling in
A small shank intended for your underbelly?

Am I any better, any more kind, less sinister?
Than the black clothed, face painted, stealth ninjas
That snuck in before me?

Littering your inner chamber with blood stains,
Chunks of flesh sliced away with razor sharp swords,
With words that should never have formed
On the lips of anyone who also tumbled forth
“I love you?”

I can’t.  I cannot promise you my visit there, 
Should I ever be permitted into your sacred space,
Will be one of godly like goodness
Devoid of human insecurity, self absorption
And crippling imperfections.

I honestly cannot give you that.
Even as much as I want to.

What I can give you is a broken, imperfect person,
Who at least understands the delicacies of 
?Such an important journey into that sacred space.
A person who recognizes this space of yours,
As truly sacred.

A person who will respectfully take off her shoes,
Not trample the few square feet of soft, 
White carpet that has yet to be stained with your blood.

The lifeblood that the very ones,
You chose to love, and who promised only 
To love and protect you,
Went before me and carelessly, 
Sometimes wits the most frightening and shocking intentions,
Boldly splattered from your tender heart,
Across your white carpet, once so pure and clean. 

I can only promise that my goal here 
Is and never will be to cut you open any deeper.

I can only promise that I will keep this in mind,
Before I go forward and knock once again,
Upon your tightly sealed, inner chamber door.
The one you’ve outfitted with five, impossible deadbolts.

I can only promise that I will bring--
A satchel of tenderness.
A backpack filled with understanding,
Patience and genuine love. 
And hopefully,
If I can fit it in, 
A little, true selflessness.

And should I pack all of this for my journey,
There won’t be any room for my weapons.

So please, when I knock on that door,
Don’t greet me with a long, cold, 
Terrorizing glance down the barrel of one of your biggest guns.

Realize I come in peace, unarmed.
Recognize and acknowledge the white flag
I hold high out in front of me.

Hoping just to know you.
To love you.
To lounge in bliss within your warm, sweet chamber.
Your sanctuary.
And finally get the chance to meet the real you.










































																	










Copyright © Elisa Christensen | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Cindi Rockwell | Details |

THE JOURNEY

Once upon a weedy lawn
At Cedar Oaks Retirement Home
There sat my mother, weak and old
On an afghan knit to block the cold.

It was summer, but in mom's grey eyes
Was winter, when all around us dies.
I had tried to park her in the sun
Though I doubt she could notice what I'd done.

The disease had eaten up her brain
So little of her now remained
She didn't even know my name
I knew her not, much to my shame.

I looked around our patch of earth
Saw dandelions,and thought with mirth
Of how when small these grew quite wild
Mom would pick them as she smiled.

"Blow upon this cloud of seed,
"Then wish for what you really need."
I picked one now,and sadly blew
I asked for "mom" I never knew.

Suddenly a gust of wind
Took those seeds and made them spin
I felt my body start to rise
And change to match the seeds in size.

My mother gasped, & sucked us in
The seeds and me like some great wind
I saw her teeth, quite brown from smoking
And feared that I might cause her choking.

I swirled around, then down a slide
"Is this my mother I'm inside?!"
I landed in a battered lung
Where signs of cigarettes had clung.

And unsure of just where to go
I found a bridge, and crossed it slow.
Whence I entered a crucial part.
I found myself in momma's heart.

Where in a corner, dark and dusty
A young girl played, her laugh so lusty.
Her eyes weren't grey but tinged with blue
The plaited hair I also knew.

Her teeth so white, her face unlined
It was my mother, quite a find!
A joy, a freedom never shown
A lightness in her manner, tone.

And then a moment changed it all
I saw my grandma softly call
And whisper in my mother's ear
"Your dad has died. I'm sorry, dear."

Her wailing nearly deafened me
As the joy drained out like tides at sea.
Seeing all her pain and grief
I felt unwelcome, like a thief.

So I moved further in her heart
And came upon a teenage tart.
Awkwardly smoking, trying too hard
And too easily letting down her guard.

She fell for boys like rain from clouds
Her clothes too tight, her make-up loud.
Each night she staggered home alone
Hoping one would actually phone.

Then came the day that in that place
Could only lead to her disgrace.
I saw my mom in grandma's parlor
And my granny pacing as she hollered.

She pointed at mom's bulging middle
Screamed, then cried, then swore a little.
Pulled my mom up to her feet
In one swift move, threw her on the street.

My mother was 16, expecting a child
Homeless as well, she ought to be wild.
But instead I saw a great peace abide her
As she gently caressed me still forming inside her.

I saw in her eyes how love was the way
She changed from a girl to a woman that day.
Not love for a boy, a career, a degree
The love that transformed her was her love for ME!

Already feeling like my heart could break
And not sure of how much more I could take,
I still turned around to roam and explore
Both anxious and wary for what was in store.

This part of her heart was lit bright as the sun
My mother was wedding her intended one.
I remembered the dresses, beautifully white
I remembered the dancing that went on all night.

And then like a knife tearing straight through my chest
I knew what I'd see when I looked at the rest.
My mother so happy to be loved and give back
And me, growing older, and jealous of "Zach."

My stepdad who treated me like I was his own
Whose only crime was to enter our home.
I wanted my mother's attention on me
I was blinded by self-centered jealousy.

I knew that my mother would have to pick me
Especially if he behaved violently.
I found I was born with a flair for theatrics
And ran to my mom, often faking hysterics

Til finally my mother was left with no choice
But to tell him to leave, with a crack in her voice.
And suddenly I saw what I hadn't before
This part of mom's heart looked all broken and sore.

I couldn't continue with ease like before
The walls were too thick, advancing a chore
As if my mother had run out of room
For chances of love to grow or to bloom.

Then finally I hit the last, great, thick wall
Without any access beyond it at all
And almost afraid to look at the view.
I nonetheless watched, as I knew I must do.

It was a scene I knew all too well.
My teenage years, when I put mom through hell.
When I dumped her for boys who cared nothing for me
Choosing from her real love just to flee.

I left her alone in her house in the woods
I left her for losers who sold me their goods.
And then, too proud to admit I was wrong
I never went back, til her health was long gone.

And it was too late to say how much I cared
Too late to know it was something we shared.
Ready to go, I took one last long glance
And I saw something I never expected, by chance.

I saw my mother, like time lapse pics
Every night of her life, never missing a tick
Down on her knees, by the side of her bed
Praying for ME, who left her for dead.

She prayed for my health, she prayed I'd find love,
She prayed I'd be blessed by our Dad up above.
And even when she couldn't walk on her own.
My mom still put my needs o'er her own.

When the tears rolled free down my face,
I heard a huge sigh, and felt pulled from my place.
And in half a minute I was back on the lawn
Front of mom and Cedar Oaks Retirement Home.

My mother looked down on me, suddenly aware
And I saw for the first time her pain and her care.
And I noticed also an angel-like glow,
As she reached out her hand, and said, "Now you know."

I hugged her, held her, thanked her til night.
But the lucid look never came back in her sight.
She passed shortly after, to my great dismay
But I'll never forget the gifts given that day.

I learned never discount the love of your mother,
Never trade in that bond for the sake of a lover.
I learned there is power in a mom's loving prayers
And there is a God who hears and who cares.

I learned about faith, and love unconditional.
I learned about judging by standards traditional.
And I learned that from a little seed
Can come most everything we need!

7/12/2015
Rhyme scheme: aabb

Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details |

To Be A Friend Pleaser

I heavily recall two times when I had made you cry,
Both of which bewildered and moved me
My response was that of disbelief, and regret
And never, upon recalling, 
Have I felt more of the need to address these moments

We were young, certainly, tied together by our imaginations, 
Our wit, and artful talents, 
You, an adept, musically inclined, 
And I musically aroused 
It seemed such a normal day that my guards were broken,
And I freely blabbered, 
As I would to a sibling, or my favorite play thing
We had known each other for a while,
And I deemed it right to show my all
You shared your favorite toys with me, 
And I made it my signature, in my goofy ways, 
To disperse each play session stirring your mind
So that you may laugh, and I may laugh too

I remember the living room, 
Sitting on the light brown carpet floor
And Grandma, for I considered her my grandma too,
Contented on the couch, enjoyed our giggles, and smiled,
While she read her weekly romance novel
I always wondered the reason for her reading,
And how she might receive pleasure in such a simple thing as
Attending to our nonsensical trifles

We played with our stuffed animals,
Hers was a white, fluffy bear with sophisticated clothes
And mine, an alligator, naked, and morose looking
I thought it would stir more laughter if,
In contrast to the kind, gentlemanly bear,
The alligator would respond in grumpy exclamations,
Even insult, if he were pushed too far to conform 
For as the gentlemanly bear insisted upon conversing with the alligator,
Having tea with him and discussing matters of interest, 
The alligator’s response, frank and cold was soon drawled to,
“No, no, no, I do not want to!”
Having repeated such a phrase a couple times,
I saw that it resulted in her laughing,
So, repeating the phrase, 
I meant to conjure more fits of joy,
However, after the third repeat, she suddenly stopped, 
The insistent gentleman was speechless
In a strange pause I stared at my friend,
Watching her pink cheeks pale,
And her eyes water with sudden tears
I squeezed the alligator, almost cursing it instead of myself,
Watching her and wondering what had caused this sadness and pain
She turned away from me, and cried, 
Getting up quickly, embarrassed, and darting into her room

Grandma seemed understanding, 
And this bewildered me even more
Surely, I had done something awful, 
Making my closest friend cry,
And surely, a lecture was soon to put in me in my place
Instead though, she apologized to me, 
And told me not to worry, that she would be just fine
Though never, being the friend pleaser that I was,
Did I feel more awful, and more worrisome
I thought of what I might do to make her feel better,
As Grandma walked down the hall and entered her room
I thought perhaps, she would want me to go home,
So I got up, stuffed my bag with my things,
And waited at the door,
Rehearsing in my mind a thousand apologies

She returned out of the room, 
Saying nothing, but motioning me to the floor with the toys
I obeyed her, never more guarded and thoughtful in my life,
And we resumed our play session
The alligator had took a turn to being quite the sweet chap
And realized that the gentlemanly bear was not as annoying
And bossy as he first thought,
That he only needed a friend to talk to
Someone kind and understanding

The second instance was in a later year
Dear Grandma was away in a separate apartment
Her father was frequently at the house, 
A quiet, but nice man, 
Always retreating to the back room
Whenever we entered the house for lunch or to retrieve a doll
Despite his kindness, his reserve slightly intimidated me,
And the few times he addressed me 
Were always awkward, and thankfully, short
We were more inclined to outside activities those days,
Roleplaying, sporting, and running about,
I the servant and she the princess
I did not much mind the role of the servant, 
As I had many quirks, 
And nothing too great was expected of me
We often, befriended despite our opposite positions,
Would sit at the swing set and converse together
As equals, almost,
The princess gaining from the servant wit and adventure,
And the servant, gaining from the princess,
Patience, poise and simplicity
But our session was long over as I heard the call from her father,
And we both sighed, and ran into the house
My mother had come to pick me up,
And her father, gently, led me to the front door,
With the usual, “See you later!”, 
And, “It was good to see you again!”
My friend, happy in countenance, bid me goodbye,
Smiling, though pale, once again
It did not occur to me at the time,
That she was on the brink of tears
And as I got into the car, 
As we pulled out of the driveway,
I saw the look of sadness and despair on her face
Her eyes… they splashed on me grief
She was staring at me, tears running down her face,
Her body quivering, standing at the curb
I could barely make out from the muffle of the car,
The sound of her crying out,
Just as her father stormed outside, dragging her away,
“Ashly, what the f*** is wrong with you!!!??”
And we drove away, my face plastered to the window,
Thinking to myself, 
“What have I done?”

I was so confused,
So sad, and so strangely angry
To see her father drag her in that way
Though I wondered, perhaps, I had faulted her once more
That in me leaving, she took it as a rejection,
And I felt it my duty to be near her again,
To assure her that I was always her servant
And she was always the princess
I could not, if I wanted to,
Revert to the mindless alligator again,
And, like her father, disregard her enigmatic feelings,
As well as her insistent need for affection and kindness
I vowed I would always provide her with my best
So that only smiles and laughter animated her delicate being

To be a friend pleaser—yes, that is what I am,
Requires more of self, to even enhance oneself, 
To build up the deprived,
To change perspective, 
And change character,
And in turn, serve selflessly,
For to gain the thrill of happiness
From a more than worthy companion,
Is, for me, to gain the world

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Isaiah Zerbst | Details |

A Poem of Ruth

The tears well up, and scarce could she not moan
When father, brother, husband, all have died.
She now has no possessions, neither home,
But travels to a distant, unknown land:
Once so secure, yet now compelled to roam;
Once rich in love, she treads through foreign sands.
Her weary feet move forward but by faith;
For all left to her name is mere belief:
Mind, heart so far away she seems a wraith-
Love, happiness- all taken by a thief.

When, sometime since, her heart had broke in two,
The path of life, once single, parted way;
Forsake she could, but this she would not do-
All else was gone- with mother she would stay:
"Intreat me not to leave thee," was her plea,
"For whither thou wilt go, there will I; pray
Forbid me not to follow after thee,
For where thou lodgest I would also stay:
"Thy people shall be mine, thy God my God;
And where thou liest, I will gladly lie
Beside thee, overhead the selfsame sod;
That even then thou mightest be closeby.

"And so they twain walk on, hand clasped in hand;
Both hold the only thing they yet possess:
The younger but a stranger in the land,
An enemy, a widow in distress.

She rose before the sun to find a place
Where she might gather barley ears and wheat;
A field where she might find some needed grace
To gather for their winter store of meat:
Then Boaz comes from Bethlehem, and see,
He tarries with the reapers of the wheat:
He comes to Ruth and says, "Hear'st not thou me?
Remain until the harvest is complete:
"Go not from hence, but in my fields abide,
And let thine eyes be on the field they reap;
Behold, these maidens thou may'st work beside,
And near the reapers thou may'st ever keep."
Then to her face she fell, and wond'ringly
Asked why to her, a stranger, was so kind;
And he replied that she unfailingly
Had cleaved unto her mother with one mind,
And left her father, mother, and the soil
Of her nativity, and kissed the dust
Of some strange land wherein she meant to toil;
Forsaking gods of Moab God to trust:
"The Lord," said he, "reward thee for thy deeds,
 And recompense thy labour and thy love:
The God of Israel answer all thy needs,
And make his wings a shelter from above."
 Then said the maid, "My lord, please let me find
Some grace and favour in thy blessed sight,
For that thou hast been friendly, spoken kind,
And I am but a stranger in the night."
Then Boaz said, "At mealtime here abide;
Rest in the shade, come, sit with us and dine:
So down she sat, a reaper on each side;
She ate her wheat and dipped her bread in wine.
Then Ruth arose, and to her work she leaves:
The master thus commands his servant men,
"Let this young maid glean e'en among the sheaves;
Rebuke her not, for she shall come again;
And let some handfuls fall onto the ground,
There let them lie for my sake and for hers
That she may glean and plenty may be found;
For reasons she has need of it are pure."
And as she worked, Ruth knew not what a sight
Of beauty and of diligence she made,
As in the golden field in sunset's light
She bowed her head and knelt as if she prayed.

It came to pass that in his fields she stayed
Until the end of barley harvest came,
When mother told the lovely little maid
To seek for his provision and his name.
She washed and dripped an oil filled with sweet
Perfumes of wild roses on her face:
She had not much; her beauty was complete
With but her finest clothes to seek his grace.
Her braided hair shone brighter than the gem
That never graced her soft and shapely form;
Her eyes, they sparkled brighter than the hem
Of gold and pearls that she had never worn:
Thus Ruth went down unto the threshing floor
Where Boaz winnowed barley till the night,
And peeked at him so shyly 'round the door;
She never let him leave her searching sight.
His workday done, the master ate and drank;
With happiness his heart was full when fed:
Then by a heap of wheat he went and sank
Into the furry robes that made his bed;
And Ruth, a while watching till he sleep
Kept vigil from a stone used as a seat,
Till when his eyes had closed and sleep was deep
She lifted up the cover from his feet
And softly laid her down and dreamed of brides
Until the watchman struck a dozen beats,
And being startled, Boaz woke and spied
A woman sleeping at his very feet:
"Who art thou?" queried he in sleepy voice;
"Thine handmaid, Ruth," was her unsure reply;
Then blessed he her for wise and kindly choice,
For passing poor and rich young fellows by.
"And now, my daughter, gladly shall I do
According to thy wishes, for all here
Consider thee as virtuous and true;
Howbeit, there is one to thee more near,
A kinsman who must duly have his say:
If he decline, then rest assured I will
Perform the part of kinsman." So she lay
Down at his feet, and both were quiet, still.

In grey of early morning she arose,
Before a face could be discernéd there;
To keep from what some people might suppose
And who might stand along the road to stare:
Then Boaz said, "Bring here the vail thou hast
Upon thy head and hold it in thy hand:
Six times the barley measure filled and passed
From heap to vail as much as she could stand.
Then Boaz went up to the city gate
To find the nearer kinsman, whom he sought,
To see if he would purchase the estate
Of Ruth, and she herself, but he could not;
So Boaz purchased all the widows' land;
The houses, barns, and fields, though overgrown;
And bought what pleased him most, Ruth's comely hand
To cherish and to make his very own:
Then Boaz went to find the handmaid, Ruth
And lift her from a servant to a wife;
To love her in all tenderness and truth
In every day God blessed them both with life.



[By Isaiah Zerbst. Published 9/7/14. Parts of poem have been removed due to soup's limitations.]




Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by J. W. Earnings | Details |

Sitting On The Ground - Our Friendship Bond and Our Vital Vows

I’m sure of it – we’ll do good enough in the long run
Let the crazy, busy, and sunny day begin and I welcome the sun
Do you welcome the sun?
You’re a lot of fun 
Let’s run in the sun
Embrace your passions and good side 
Our friendship bond is like a marriage commitment between a good-looking groom and a beautiful bride!

There’s a recompense for doing the right,loyal, and faithful thing…there’s a way out of captivity – don’t be fenced in by ferocious fears and be conquered by life-changing, wonderful cheers and be free like deer, hopping into the fervor-blossoming flower fields…have no feeling of overwhelming fear! You have no excuse for cheating on me - not while I'm around here...
Embrace your passions…never let it go…
Do your thing, oh you darling peace-abiding angel…oh, you peace-crafting angel of light – can you linger by my side everywhere I feel, darling, oh darling angel…believe and be stable – 
Embrace your passions…never let it go…
And do your thing and be my everything – don’t be scattered on the ground like beads or shattered glass everywhere you step…and gloriously sing and bring everyone peace in mind with your unique, relishing ring – flourish like the tall grain in the golden terrain…fill everyone’s hearts with perpetual cheer! 
Embrace your passions…never let it go…
You are such a beauty from every single angle…untangle me from the web of bewilderment and spread cream cheese to my bagel! Read God’s bible – nothing close to a mad myth or a frivolous fable! Place those beliefs under the table and give as you are able! 

You gottah get up and try as P!nk sings in her song
Embrace your passions with me...and you'll slowly, but surely belong!

Go with the flow of the current of the aqua-blue sky
Kiss the abyss "farewell" - sit back and chillax and be high like a kite

Embrace your passions…never let it go…
Bring me to my dwelling place called Dandelion Delight
It’s time to face what we’ve done…
One…two…three…four
Guide me to my heavenly haven called Illuminated Night
It’s time to run the race – we’ll survive the run…
Four…three…two…one…
We’re sittin’ on the fence, 
Catching a glimpse at the sundrenched sight
Am I makin’ any sense?
Watching a marvelous sunset transform into an illuminated night
Hand me a bouquet of stars 
Don’t remind me of my past scars
Who can mend them now?
Embrace your passions…never let it go…
You’re more precious than the best of poetry 

Do you know where the wind does blow?
It’s a mystery to conceal…say that you want to fall in love with me
’Cause I want to practice by admiring you with 100% certainty that you’re the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with…someday, the day will come somehow…this moment with you is so unreal
How can you blossom like fireworks in the midnight sky? I ponder about this as I find myself sitting on the ground – gravity-bound… How? Somehow, you do it…someday, I’ll know how! I wanna learn to give you space when you need it and I’ll know for sure that you’re my Only Devotion...how did these scars heal? Is it you, my dearest angel? I’m not insecure, but I do take things to the next level – it’s no good deal
Fight for the right purpose and fight the good fight…the reason I fight is for your sake…alright?
You and I will earn beyond-brilliant-and-flawless peace….don’t let the bright opportunities fade…you don’t make me flip out, but you allow me to look at the bright side of life – you’re the reason I’m shimmering anew and I’m the most handsome tint, not a shameful shade 
Fight with your might – there’s an afterlife to look forward to – everything will be black and white
You’re quite a dashing princess – gracious evermore – go play that majestic melody of yours – I want you to know that you’re as sharp and tough as my favorite pocket blade

Come, face this roller coaster with me and go along with the ride 
Face your fears…look them in the eye – you’re gonna be fine with me, though we’re not sitting on the ground…but later on, it’s a possibility possibly…
Go with the flow and put your hands in the air like you don’t care – care to be by my side?
Face your fears…face them eye to eye like a wo-man–you’re gonna be OK with me around…I guarantee! Stay with me and echo your feelings of ecstasy! Think of us next to a sparklin’ sea with serene shores washing against our bodies as one gaily…so happily…so merrily, do we sing! 
Bring us accord and don’t sow discord, 
Let your talents, gifts and high spirits take wing
Let’s sip some wine and be as happy as two jovial pigs in the mud – happiness, free will, and joyfulness are what we can afford!

Let's lock hands and make an agreement and a special bond plus a scared oath...
Like grand lands - just kick back and chillax for a time - you're the one I'll never have the heart's desire to loath
Spread butter to the toast...and slice away all doubt
You're the one I can't help but boast about
You lead me to a nirvana-like, narrow pathway
Come follow me as I blow you XOXO's along the way
Let positivity drive us on and trek that big mountain
Shine on, dear angel of unbreakable, ardeous strength, like the dawn - weep no more, you fretful fountain . . . 
Let God's healing rain heal our pain
That's been driving you and I insane...but we're still sane,
Driving on our love-abiding, painless lane

Promise me you won't break our friendship vows...

Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by J. W. Earnings | Details |

I Can't Just Change Overnight part 2

I am appalled by the acts of atrocity in this world of eccentricity 
How can you handle the rebellious transgressions of all children, women and men?
I want to serve You, master, with all I got…
I don’t want to remain the disaster that left me to rot
Enlighten me with Your words of wisdom…
Invite me into Your household and lead me to Your Narrow Path
Allow me to pray for Your Kingdom to come…
Give me Your proverbs of plenteous perception...not Your wrath!
Your in-depth insight gives me a reason 
To find the light at the end of the road
Honestly, I’m not ready for the arrival of Your son…
But, I must consider His Word my abode
I can’t just change overnight… 
I’m afraid that, in the past, I have lost sight…
In who you are – a compassionate, knowledgeable Father
Unlike any other…far greater than any father or mother…
I recognize the words of truth in the bible…
Unfortunately, it’s hard to open it, but I am capable…
I am capable of doing so, but I didn’t leave time for Your word to sink in
I apologize for all the mindless things I’ve done…next time, I will open…
I will open up to You and open the book of wise sayings from on high
I have trouble reading, probably due to some kind of dyslexia…
However, I will not cease from reading the many non-fictional volumes that are inspired by You…I read them in awe… 
Please give me mercy upon my sensitive soul
Oh, those impious lies quench the truth as a whole
Empty and numb is how I feel when I am without You…
I’m clueless and dumb without You and that’s oh so true…
Pure innocence is stolen away from me by the abominable apprehension that took advantage of me 
Arrogance and pride fought over me countless times over and over again…but optimistic humility will set me free…
You flood me with infuriating isolation, oh serpent of the deep
I must get a grip on myself...save me from my vexation
It has hit me to the core and I can't help, but sheepishly weep
I must expect the unexpected...I must not fall into temptation 


“Oh, what’s the use in you trying anyways? You’re nothing but a failure…” hissed the serpent, creeping into my cranium and slithering around me surreptitiously.
“No…no I’m not!” said I, denying the unreliable remark and backing away from the creeping creature, but to no avail. He moves in all directions and wraps himself around me. 
“Oh really now?” He asks, scornfully showing his tongue, obviously trying to mock me and shock me. “I bet you can’t even tell the difference between the light and the dark…besides, you already gave in to your comfort zone…”
“Well, maybe you’re right! But…” I say, hesitantly, but with much bravery.
“But? But, what!?” He asks menacingly. His sinister smile transforms into an eager smirk.
“Uhhh…wait, let me recall what I was gonna say…” I say, stupefied for a few seconds. “Oh! Oh yeah… but I still have time to make it up to the Lord of Accord……I will place my trust in Him from now on till the day I die.”
Beat that, you insidious snake! What about you slither away, for God’s sake!

Drag me away from the evil desires that scorch my heart ablaze
The bad habits of laziness and little progress was only a meaningless phase
For, I’m getting over the wasted times I’ve spent 
During the summer days, indoors…I wonder where the time went…
Debating on whether or not to write 
An inspirational song once again – that’s a might, 
Despite what I feel deep inside –
The need to hide, but a want to be brave…
Don’t mind me – I’ll learn to behave
For the night, I’d rather be with my family by my side
For the night, I’d rather sleep with dreams that won’t subside
From my sight…but once I wake up, they are soon forgotten
Why is my hope rotten? In God’s eyes, am I unforgotten?
In the vast abyss…the abstract abyss…
I roam in my lonely distress, it’s only in my head
Can’t shake away this hopelessness…
I long to embrace happiness, but instead, I hold on to dread
Again…again…
Why should I allow myself to fall away again?
Am I moving farther away from my Shepherd or am I growing close to Him?
Is the Light of Delight and Might illuminating me or are my lights growing dim?
I realize that You and I are a good team…
I hope in the future that You can elevate my self-esteem
I will not reflect on the rejection that bullies me so
Absurd, alienated ambition haunts my mindset
Don’t mind me when I start to go mad over piling debt
Don’t haunt me with the abyss of bleak desolation
Don’t taunt me with jaded corruption or deceiving destination…
Mirror my pain…I am the tainted-and-troubled train
I need to get on track or I might end up on insanity lane
I yearn for unconditional love from my fervor-stirred, faithful Father 
I’ve slept for too long and I’ve wept over the wrong…
Over the wrong I’ve done…
How can I feel like I belong when at home, it’s hard to belong?
It feels like darkness has won…
Suddenly, good luck crowns my head – I was wrong all along…life is like a game of Ping-Pong

Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Les Pruitt | Details |

Architects of Humanitarian Crises

Copyright © 2008 #03
4/12/2008 // (Edited: 1/22/2013/lp
(a historical glimpse of humanity's rise)

*This poetic epic begins with the
greatest sin against humanity

*This poem is dedicated to all
serving and protecting the
¨Basic Rights of Mankind¨

Once, mankind was forgiven from sin
but continue to embrace it like a trend

After the Flood many nations strolled
some didn´t want true history told

All mankind has got to realize
humanity had been vandalized

A few condemmed HIM to a Cross
and mankind became a hope lost

His testimony was like no other
a promise bonding men as brothers

So, was it hate, shame or pride?
The Shroud of Turin now abide

Something embedded itself into minds
their egos separated mankind thru time

From images of Christ to the Sphinx
mankind altered their faces with ink

Societies increased across the land
but some became marauding bands

Enslaved many to learn their ways
called indentured servants nowadays

Learning finally opened many minds
forbidden to most throughout time

Conquering became a lust
many thought they must

Barbarians embraced warfare
believing in war over prayer

Some journeyed to build
but most decided to steal

Robbing nations precious gold
slaughtering the young, and old
another story that was not told

Saw oppressing others was nice
ensnared some as their sacrifice

Oppression increased in the land
because of the barbarian's plan

Their business began to boom
and corruption shot to the moon

America, land of morality and hope
still someone was signing for dope

Capital´ism made a few very rich
sin and immorality, Islam tried to fix
paganism and Communism a glitch
a conflict to shove Christianity in a ditch

Old governments embraced the Klan
still got history's blood on their hand.

Kept society busy with Santa Claus
knowing its origin is spiritually false

They knew global warming was real
maybe too late, this just sent a chill

Interested learning secrets of the brain
Drug gangs driving societies insane

Kids with little future left in sight
hopes dwindled like the Knight

Then, later came Robin Hood
with good news from the wood

Someone revived human rights
still, some decided not to fight

No need for humantarian crises
diabolical plans rolling the dices

These sinful plans between hands
slaughtering the lambs of the land

We need to fix this mess
before we come to rest

Most of  world history twisted
some are now rying to fix it

For some Nations, it was too late
capital'ism quickly sealed their fate

Africa was a continent very rich
...now realizing it is in a ditch
never should´ve trusted Mitch

I even heard the Rossette Stone
was hidden in someone´s home

The secrets of Giza
painted in Mona Liza

Even the Eyptian Sphinx
tried to give mankind a wink
now hides her missing links

And, the pyramids contained a sacred Key
stolen by those not wanting us to be free

Someone hide Pandora´s Box
with final desination Fort Knox

Even, saw the Bible's Holy Grail
shipped by Fed-Ex Express Mall

Most gold, and precious artifacts
was found stolen, and hijacked

It´s hard for most to understand
they kept us busy with their plan

So, in this life we must cast our vote
moving forward with faith and hope

Those affected have become a scorn
got them hungry from dusk to dawn

World economies causing a recess
ego and pride got us in a big mess

The Middle East became a feast.
I wonder who planned that piece?

They say Mohammed started this fuss.
through history who dare finger Guss?

These differences in world religions
still affecting mankind's decisions

Humanity began in Africa and Irak
but millions destituted in a shack

The Americas to China has similiar pain
but yrants' view them as a social stain

And, there was oil for food
but someone became rude

So, once again East meets West
fighting over another treasure chest

Expenses reaching trillions
recovery costing billions
death in the millions

The greatest gift is charity
why concentrate on disparity?

We need to fix this mess
or earth soon to rest

Mismanagement of world funds
resources available by the tons

The poor and depair need more
still someone's locking the door

Feeling no guilt with pride
and the fortunes they hide

Corruption and terrorism sown
by a few of government´s own

Someone´s selfish plans ahead
have now made us very afraid...
maybe baked or nuked instead

Distitute's nourishment is baked dirt
nothing else or their stomachs hurt

Most of the time with nothing to eat
weeping for a peaceful night sleep

The 3 pathways to Heaven are narrow
selfish can learn from the sparrow.

When the next ATOM splits and divide
some gonna try to run and hide
knowing they deceived many and lied

So, don´t worry about a thing tonight
soon GOD will make things alright

Then, all children will be able to play
The Prince of Peace will come to stay

So, remember before it´s over
they too needed a shoulder

by: LP

Copyright © Les Pruitt | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details |

Light On the Devil's Chord - Day 21

The waters of the Holy Spirit stirred with strength
And commenced to churn itself alive inside the well,
Forming a new maelstrom so radiant it seemed to rise in special presentation,
Roaring its heartfelt existence known
Our prince roared to drown its verities out, 
As my eyes heavily poured forth its growing form 

"Cease your sobs of truth!
Why in this well do you need your Father's light!
When what I have shown you could palpitate the bloods of your capricious soul? 
Battle me you must... 
I know you must for He has confidence in you
Where He has conviction in my destruction
The undercurrents of my heart shan’t assuage you
But the streams of you and your Lord’s duets estrange and enrage me
I am jealous, oh salient woman,
Jealous of how it stirs in you hope,
I want to clasp its throat and murder it endlessly!!!
I am your instrument, practice me...
I am your tool, use me…
Do not quench yourself just yet
Be thirsty for me...
Do not drink, 
Comprehend me
Adore me just a little longer..." 

The waters swirled around me, seeping slowly
The darkness in the well matured
And his eyes glowed menacingly, 
Burning on me with fires rising
He was thinking of what more he could say,
Sifting through the urging thoughts,
Desperate for a truth that would dominate the Holy Spirit’s sway

I sang,
"Those eyes once rested with me,
The same eyes that envision evil ends,
And transgressional beginnings,
Those burning eyes full of fire and desire,
Full of hate, envy and ire,
What do they truly see,
What do they reveal of me? 
Your eyes, they see an altered ultimatum, 
They are blind to our Father’s prophesies, 
And open to your own fantasies
Unrealities and fictions made physical
I will not practiceyou, I will experience you
I will not use you, for I love you
So Fictional Future, get past me
And behind me! 
You have feasible eyes, so let them see, 
I am no queen, 
I serve the King!
And these eyes you see here
Look at me!
These eyes you see here,
The same eyes that have seen your hurt afresh, 
Pour forth warmest tears, 
They open widely
To see exactly what they need to see
They shall love and create freely
Bearing each tempt and derision with a behemoth’s vision!"

He stared into my fierce eyes, 
Jaws clenched, 
They watered, never blinking
His vile thoughts meant to be verbalized,
Yet well he knew to reach my ears he had to speak his heart
Stemming from truth and virility 

"Those round beauties you possess, strong Majesty,
Reveal potentials dragons only dream
We are as equals, mine and your eye, 
Never simple, intensifying, powerful pupils, 
Expanding beauty with truth and lies...
Your eyes, do you not see?
I fathom what you knowingly perceive"

He shuttered, staring
"Focus on me,
Your eyes penetrate the night, 
They challenge my own, 
With a love lost in my catastrophic tone....
Your eyes....
Over and over they cry....
Bring us peace,
In different colors, changing in milliseconds they plead
Like in the ground where your grandfather lies, 
Among veterans long dead, 
Fighting, losing and rotted
Infinitely brave bones....
With soul blood pumping remembrance
Your eyes, 
Your eyes are burying the dream with the death of denial
I will see through them, 
And through mine you will see what you can be....
You can forever...forever, understand me..."

Long are these songs in this wretched pit...
Do not give in to it
The dark is temporary
The light is everlasting

"I have faced you over and over, 
We all have
And we all have eyes
Past twenty, beyond forty days
I have seen your cruel guise
Do not tremble, oh dragon, 
Your jealous impatience
Roars through those glowing eyes
Your desires uncircumcised
Look beyond us, you and I
See my world of grace
You have seen the bravery of my grandfather
So possess my womanly frame
Look beyond, 
Look above
Look around, 
Realize through mine, 
And visualize a stream of love you constantly fight
Today is a special day,
So see it right..."

I approached him slowly and touched him, 
Softly, his hands enclosed over mine

His voice was hushed like the secret between him and I,
Brushing in the brinks of thrill and suspense
He wet his lips, readying them for emphasis
"Now in this life, at this very moment in time,
Beholding the wonders of many worlds in your eyes,
I confess: 
I see him alive there,
And I envy him, 
For he was eternally kind to you
A part of you evermore
A trinket you hold to your heart dearly
As I lose you vastly
And as for your God,
I have known Him fully and turned from Him
And I envy Him too, 
Just remember me, as you remembered me every night in prayer—
He wants you,
Though I need you."

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by matthew harris | Details |

Letter to taeljejohn

uncomfortableness, and hesitation arose that you might reassess a possibility for friendship or.... whatever with me.

A disappointment set in place in the event that based on some facet of my being (inexplicable flaws within this corporeal human male), forecast that an about face (booked on charges inherent in this googly eyed, earth-linked, kool hotmail of a yahoo) would be un liked!

Juno what i mean? 

In retrospect, no matter that this average boyish chap desires enjoyment, he admits that ordinary punctuating various stages of development difficulty coping found him msn (miss sin, missin, missing, et cetera) on ordinary interpersonal experiences!

No matter yours truly usually finds me each morning, noon or night conjuring up maximizing temporary residence on this planet earth versus bemoaning those futile and essentially counterproductive mind games sans could a, might a, should a, would a...

today = the moment to cherish, enjoy, help others, ponder the remaining years
since fruitless to expend tears
for suppressed emotional, financial, grammatical, hormonal, physical, and spiritual angst
 that roiled mine inner sanctum - mainly from decades in the past
   which unseen scars with humor this fellow (who by the way likes you) wears!

Notice the sly inclusion of my comment per -- affinity, desirability, rhapsody for you
although just but a mere inkling prevails about an ye taelje john thru
a rather contrived manner - albeit an online adult oriented website - amongst a slew
which yields to this bipedal hominid a scant few
initial responses - as if a ghost app paired in the recipient email - going boo
which unwittingly seems to turn the ivy blue!

So...no matter a constancy of follow-up electronic communiques occurs from ye
bringing tears of joy, that nobody can see
while simultaneously delivering digital glee
a reality check restrains proclivity and predilection to let thoughts run wild and free!

Immense and immeasurable mounts in moi little rock
inducing an electric arc for myself to kin neck embedded in all this schlock
for a sixth sense arises that this holme body strongly suspects yar self 
 to generate sunny watts as an s spy she lee Sherlock

but, reticence to gush with ebullience reins in a cascade
of utter delight washing o'er this less than satisfactory mwm 
 who as a boy and youth happened to b a frayed
of his own shadow - while walking along the boulevard of broken dreams
 listening to the sounds of silence on a green-day.

Thus => the following from one 

Cerebral being ™ in the am and pm
 
This ordinary human
Finds himself a mystery
Within the terrestrial
Firmament and frequently
Feels in a feverish pitch
At his existence
That seers the temple
Mounted upon this slender
Frame - wrought by the
Combination of genetics
In tandem with exercise
Which latter helps to
Sublimate the coiled 
Tension wound tightly 
Like an indestructible spring 
Without a healthy medium at large 
To channel emotions fraught within
Me might find demise
That would rent asunder literate fellow 
And thus annihilate without a trace
One true valued father of two us special
Lovely lasses as just another statistic among 
The obituaries!
 
As the world turns (indiscriminately oblivious of the harrowing days per one simian), an agreeable, amiable, edible, immeasurable, likeable, pleasurable, sensible woman (such as yourself - predicated on a gut level intuition) goads more seriousness to share

Plaintive unheard heart strings o mine that wail
Displeased with this marriage fraught with travail
As if in a maelstrom whip-lashed vessel without a sail
Yet - averse to lambaste or rail
Against abby (whereby we pass like two ships in the night) who married this male
When each of us happened to seem more similar 
   And thought each ourselves to fail
At any endeavor, though now confidence 
   Buoys my heart while she doth ail

And exemplifies attitudes, beliefs, efforts, 
   Idiosyncrasies, pathos that life does rot
Ill suited to Matthew Scott, 
   Whose bon vivant manifesting faith in him
   Perhaps from herself deferring many domestic 
   And child rearing tasks not
Of course being boasting - even when scissoring the umbilical cord
   As a now beaming papa, whose daughters 
   Blithely ignore "mother" a lot
Thus necessitating this quest 
   For a counterpart to offer succor 
   To eden (age 16) and shana (14 on february 4th, 2013) 
   Yet accepts that i must dispel any dreamy fantasy even this ours - a mere jot
At this juncture knowing full well how unwise to set myself up for disappointment
   By thinking and rushing like a fool, 
   Where angels fear to tread
   Though "chutzpah" i got!

U r slowly filling my mindscape with joy
Thank you so much - for accepting without complaint how atypically words this writer wannabe 
   Named Matthew Scott Harris dozen ploy.


Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Isaiah Zerbst | Details |

The Lily Maid of Astolat

The knight of knights, Sir Lancelot,
From far away in Camelot,
Went by a way that he knew not
And thus, by chance, spied Astolat
With sunset's gleam upon her tow'rs:
T'was there he met the maid Elaine,
With hair as golden fields of grain-
A lily in the springtime rain-
The fairest of the flow'rs.

With her he left his fearsome shield;
That of her brother, Torre did wield:
At last to her desire did yield
To wear her favour on the field-
A sleeve of red with pearls.
Then to the diamond joust away,
Lavaine and he rode to the fray,
Departing at the break of day
To fight with kings and earls.

She took the shield and lightly step't
Up where she watched as off they leapt,
And there the mighty emblem kept
Beside the bed in which she slept;
The mystic azure lions traced:
She never left it there, it seemed;
She watched by day, at night she dreamed;
She woke each morn as sunlight gleamed
From it to light her lovely face.

Sir Lancelot, wounded, won the prize-
His shield still mirrors her azure eyes;
Not knowing if he lives or dies,
Nor knows she yet the place he lies.
But lo! There comes the knight Gawain;
He bears the prize to he who won,
Not finding him, his quest is done;
The prize he leaves, both mount and run-
But she to find where he is lain.

Sir Torre and she their horses drave,
'Till long at last they found a cave,
The knight within, and near the grave:
Elaine her greatest efforts gave
To save him from death's gaping door.
Through dawn or twilight lightly glides
The lily maid to where he hides
And by his wasted form abides,
His olden glories to restore.

Some months had passed, and whole once more
He offered half his treasure store,
A kingdom's land, or three, or four,
But none of this she cared ought for-
She wanted him, and him alone:
But no, another held his heart.
E'en though it tore hers right apart
Without a glance did he depart;
He left her there to groan.

Without a parting kiss goodbye
She sulked about, but would not cry;
She sicker grew as days crawled by
Until she knew that she would die,
And of a heart that broke:
She sang "A Song of Love and Death"
With wondrous voice but halting breath;
Her heart in song she openeth-
Of never-dying love she spoke.

"My love undying e'er shall be
Though love has been the death of me:
Though sweet is love in company,
One cannot love, the other flee-
I now depart to sweetest bliss.
I wish I knew, but I cannot
If death is sweet as love is not,
When all my pain I have forgot-
As death bestows his frozen kiss."

Her final words of love she wrote
And sealed them in a little note
To place beside her in the boat
Which she desired her body float
To far away in Camelot:
Then with a pretty little sigh
Her soul to realms unknown did fly-
In such a manner chanced to die
The lily maid of Astolat.

Bathed in the misty morning light,
Arrayed in dress of purest white,
Boat decked about with black samite,
Her letter clasped to bosom tight,
A lily close beside it borne,
She drifted down the silent stream;
As if but lost in pleasant dreams,
For on her fairest face was seen
The faintest smile, bright as morn.

No sound of drip or rush or splash
Was heard within that samite sash,
Naught caused that bark to rock or dash;
The waves becalmed their muffled crash
As by them slipped the lily maid:
For all who saw were sore amazed
And soundlessly they paused and gazed
'Till Camelot's walls the boat had grazed,
At which it stopped and firmly stayed.

King Arthur saw her queenly bed,
The letter by her golden head;
To all the court her words he read,
And this is what the missive said:
"My noble lord, Sir Lancelot,
No parting kiss to me you gave,
Therefore I came from o'er the grave-
Bestow it now my soul to save.
The lily maid of Astolat."

Sir Lancelot, heartbroken too
Knelt by her side her will to do,
His arms about her shoulders threw
And to his own her lips he drew-
'Twas love by love at last returned.
But love, once lost cannot be found,
And life, once lost is claimed by ground
That wraps his heartless arms around
A heart that once with passion burned.

Above her grave a statue stands,
A note and lily in her hands
Which says to all of distant lands,
"Love, e'er your loved has loosed the bands
That tie them to this life and breath;
Love, e'er the storm has swept away
The pure, the good of yesterday,
And left in place but lifeless clay
When love is scorned and lost to death."



{Written by Isaiah Zerbst on the nineteenth of August, in the year of Our Lord, two thousand and fourteen;
Published on the twenty-first of the same.}

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

Long Poems