Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Long Truth Poems | Long Truth Poetry

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

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

Legend of the Red October Run

Dedicated to the 2000 National College Football Champions, the Oklahoma Sooners 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Over fifty years, boy and man, I’ve been a Sooners fan
Watched and reveled in their glories, every one;
But there’s no more glorious “Sooner Magic” 
Than the Red October Run.

The new millennium's first football season,
Excited Sooners fans’ hopes did soar.
They had tasted victory in Bob Stoops’ first year;
Now, they wanted - no, expected - even more.

There was a glint of promise in Bob’s eyes,
Strength and confidence in his every word.
“Our Team has shown improvement”, is what he said;
“We’ll win!” is what fans heard.

By September’s end, the Sooners were 4 and O,
A “cupcake schedule” some anxious fans would say;
Twenty-two days in October would rule their destiny.
Texas, K-State, Nebraska, the teams they’d have to play.

“OU’s October is a gauntlet”, said ESPN;
“Play #10 and #2 and #1…and win”?
So, on a rainy Saturday morning in Dallas,
The Red October Run would begin.

The Texas State Fair at the Cotton Bowl,
Fans were welcomed by Big Tex.
They screamed, “Go OU!” and “Hook’em Horns!”;
But none could imagine what happened next.

Heupel was a dominating General;
The Sooners Offense, his relentless troops.
Calmus and the Defense assured a total rout,
The Coach of the Day was Bob Stoops.

Sooners fans were wild, delirious with glee;
But Bob seemed focused and sedate.
“We’ll enjoy this victory Sunday;
Then Monday, we’ll prepare for Kansas State”.

No time to revel in the Glory, #2 was tough.
Better than the Huskers?  The possibility was real.
The road to #1 went through Manhattan,
And the Sooners would have to win it on the field.

The sportscasters had a field day.
Last year’s “coaching coup” was news again.
Beasley versus Heupel was “The Match-up”.
Could Heupel evade K-State’s awesome defense 
   and find a way to win? 

Again, Heupel and his troops met the challenge;
And as the Sooners “D” assured a hard fought win,
Every Sooners fan’s heart was stirred.
Could our Sooners be “Big Red” again?

Mighty Nebraska, #1, was coming to Owen Field.
“Biggest OU - Nebraska game in years!” Corso said.
It would be 1 versus 2, a heralded gridiron epic
For the coveted title of…”Big Red”.

It was OU’s biggest home game ever.
The campus was alive with vendors and would-be 
   ticket buyers.
Every Sooners Fan’s heart was pounding.
Could the smell of #1 stoke the Sooners' fires?

The Huskers struck so quickly.
At 14 to nothing, Sooners fans were stunned.
It was shaping up to be a long, long day;
And it wasn’t going to be fun.

Quickly tho’, Heupel rallied his Sooners troops.
They scored and scored and scored again.
The Sooners “D” built a Wall at the 50,
And would not let the Huskers in.

Winners, the Sooners ran and jumped with glee.
Fans flooded Owen Field, milling all around,
Praising and hugging their Sooners Heroes.
They even tore the goal post down.

Now #1, the Sooners had won it on the field.
Their preparation had been well taught.
Bob Stoops, all his great coaches and assistants,
Took pride in how the Sooners fought.

Someone once said, “Everyone loves a winner.”
Everywhere you looked confirmed it’s true.
OU flags fluttered.  Decals, hats, and clothes abound.
Come November, the Sooners and their Fans
    had been renewed,

There’s no slighting the importance of Red October.
The Sooners came together as a Team.
No doubt too, without “The Red October Run”
Their National Championship would still be just a dream.

For the next five games, it was simply unacceptable
For the Sooners to even think that they could fail;
And, tho’ Heupel played injured, they won the Big 12 Championship;
Great Sooners Defense had prevailed.

But no one gave these Big 12 Champs the slightest chance to win
Against the mighty Seminoles of Florida State.
The Heisman Trophy Winner was their quarterback
And their defense was touted to be great.

At the coin toss, Team Captain Torrance Marshall
Said to their quarterback in words most serious and sure,
“You took our boy’s trophy”.  Then he smiled,
“Now we’re gonna take yours”.

The Sooners “D” was everywhere and completely shut them down;
And, when Quentin Griffin’s touchdown closed the door,
Their quarterback knew that Marshall’s words rang true;
The not-so-mighty ‘Noles had not been allowed to score.

Yes, Bob Stoops and his Sooners knew the challenge:
To win Each game ‘til Every game’s been won;
Win for Sooners and their Fans the unchallenged right
To revel in the Glory of being #1.

Yes, my Sooners Team goes on and on,
Different faces, different names;
But these Sooners Champions will be well remembered
For the Season they won Every game.

Undefeated National Champions!
Before October, who would have ever dreamed?
Why, just last year, we didn’t even know the players' names;
And now, they’re College Football’s Greatest Team.

To overcome all adversity and rise to every challenge,
The reward for such a feat is being #1;
Their path to Glory born of a Sooners Legend
Called The Red October Run.

-----------------------------------------



Long poem by Poetryof Providence | Details |

APOLOGY

You spoke of Love in the kingdom to come
Where the works of hatred would be undone
you bid your disciples to follow whats true
to demonstrate its power in the actions they do
 
But I have seen injustice
      In the congregations of God
they have castigated children
with verbal tirades           they did flog

committed vicious slander
and the innocent             threw away
refused to hear their lack of justice
and those who tell the truth                they slay

But these actions are not hidden
from our King                 God has given throne
those of us who’ve seen it
our thoughts to him          have shown

His retribution will not linger
with his army he arrives
expose he will oppressors
those who                       cover deceit with lies
 
They profess to be disciples
of the Christ and Father Jah
but the errors                   of injustice
have trespassed the Love that’s law

Into the sanctuary
          I have sent this word
that like prayers of incense 
their cries and tears           be heard

At the house of God there’s punishment
until true mercy            we can learn
willing to          investigate the truth
and its advocates not spurn

You have practiced Law and Judgment
the child of God             you did not see
you interpreted the scriptures
and pronounced his children          unworthy

I have trouble understanding
those who lift             your eulogy
so easily destroy their kin
blame not themselves              as ungodly

Its always someone                 else’s fault
not the things you did or say
you couldn’t possibly            be the reason
that from the “truth” they walked away

When you stand before the throne of God
will they judge                  your actions clean
all the thoughts that you committed
will prove you kind                  or mean

I can only say to you 
I saw your                 justice taken away
my own afflictions and slander
paralyzed my voice             that day

Even now to late in time
their judgments I do fear
they’ve spent their time             convincing me
my perception is not             clear

But I have spent my time
considering             the instructions in your word
their placement in        my heart and mind
and my pen has proved I’ve heard

to those youths       I’m still connected
you’ve remained in mind and heart
I’ve considered what you experienced
and I know                it’s origins start

Not all of us              who worship truth
will condemn your walk away
those who expose their heartlessness
before the throne will pay

I only hope you              remember
those of us    who cherished you
If I could manipulate nature
none these things               would you go through

I want you to remember
that’s whats broken         and with flaw
have difficulty executing
the perfection of cosmic law

I hope to see you           in the future
when you’ve considered my             digress
what you’ve experienced in life
is very difficult               to digest

The things that connect us
are more            than human skin
together we are the children
of the parents               who gave us sin

This is my apology
for you         whom I could not defend
I was suffering my own afflictions
which prevented           my love to mend

I have failed far to many
and on others can           lay no blame
unlike the power that controls the cosmos
my limitations physics             name

My complaints here             I have spoken
but the threads of them            are true
they are laid before the throne of justice
and our God and Christ            will see them through

Choose to invest in excellence 
but these are traits          that you must learn
to humans they come            not natural
your inclinations             they will confirm

From your introduction             I have loved you
and to my thoughts have given voice
but your own road                    you must travel
and free will               is yours of choice

Only one thing          can fill whats hollow
a majestic gift       from Christ and God
that we “learn” to love each other
correct the inherited things          and flawed


Self justification (self rightousness) is a peculiar
trait among mankind ….and is significantly
emboldened when applying law and tradition
and distinctly visible among those who “practice”
religion , instead of “following the truth” like a
detective …….outside appearances can be so
deceiving, whats hidden and out of visions
range the guilty are not just catholic and protestant
those who abuse the truth have always sat
right among Gods own chosen people ….

 
Luke 17:1-4

COPYRIGHT © 2011 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Long poem by liam mcdaid | Details |

Face Of Modern Slavery

A shameful act in this world we live today
surely an educated mind can clearly see the truth behind a mask
Ignorance is the hardness of heart manifests in such violence 
The horrors and inhumanity of it heartbreaking reality reeks
A mortal sin attacking the vital principle within us all
slavery is very much alive and growing each dawning new day

New bigger than ever in the 21st century, returning evil dawns
Turn a blind eye poor unfortunate girls without a voice cry for love
India has the largest number of slaves in world we live in
The dark side of such a beautiful country an evil vice grips hold

Taking a new form, bride trafficking exploiting the poor
those unfortunate falling prey to traditional arranged marriages
some are sold off like objects for as little as 160 euro's, up to 225 euro's 5000 rupees 
Vulnerable young women exploited forced into hard labor some injected with drugs e.t.c they say their life is Hell not worth living

Working morning and night beaten in extreme heat raped by family members
Their is a social status manufactured from all this a stigmata deceit and trickery
they are then disgraced known as purchased women

Men and women so called mercenaries in a perverse vice 
looking at ill got wages they act as brokers in a deliberate choice of evil 
This the gravest violation of good clouds and corrupts judgement 
Entrapment and sale of poor unfortunate vulnerable women as brides
victims of greed to an illegal trade one grave offence
Turning away from evil out of fear of punishment 
we ourselves are in a position of slaves

Studies have been carried out the world over 
treating women as baggage or a commodity or an item of less worth
they lead their victims into evil doing without choice 
They do the most punishing of manual labor exploited under extreme conditions
Some have been taken from their families forcefully again'st their will 
then sold many times over as sexual objects and given drugs 
sedated to prevent them from escaping living a life of constant fear 

Tears roll down my cheeks 
law is a broken promise of truth to protect innocence
25 years of selective abortions willfully being practiced
by doctors and surgeons alike
protecting wrong doers cry people oppressed forced in some circumstances
life is sacred a verdict of moral conscience 

Only in the female section a shame and disgrace 
now a population of mostly men seed of their wrong doing
Oppression of the poor cries to Heaven for revenge 
keeping of slaves deprives thee laborer of their wages 
were is human rights in all this God be merciful 

Our blessed mother holding Queen of Heaven sits with the father and the son 
forgive them as they are blind to the truth an ignorance in their guilt
A mothers tears are the most precious love one blessing 
The suffering of these innocent girls, we all seek happiness in the fairy tale end

Rich men acting as brokers dowries a property exchange how awfully sad
How shameful this is slavery returning to the past sins 
enduring a life of constant sexual abuse considered unclean
this should be banned as it turns my stomach were is equality
More the Devil's advocate, such heartache and tears justice a virtue
all because you were born a woman some are taken by force an uneven balance
beaten and battered victims, a sadness overwhelms me 

Sex selective abortions, a blast again'st girls 
if the unborn child is female more than likely will be aborted
Costs of dowries crippling to parents, going into debt 
A woman, one precious jewel in my eyes who gives birth to new life 
in the fruit of love, to be held equal with an equivalent say
contrary to the divine  law
Created from a rib of man 

Families torn apart for what, such reason greed of money
The countless women enslaved live in hope 
unrepented evil brings eternal darkness destroys charity
This new prosperity is but a distant dream for some 
10 million people in enslaved in India

They have an imperialist attitude with political dominance over the poor 
The colonist legacy remains with status 
Some are considered of worthless class
Slavery laws should be enforced abolishing such inhumane cruelty 
in such loveless acts
fruits of charity are joy to behold brings peace and mercy 
as they project something to the outside world that they are not 
Hidden under the carpet their lies the sins of falsehood  






Long poem by Cyndi MacMillan | Details |

THE STAND

The eyes of Sarlissia were as large as the seventh moon of her parent's planet. Not yet five, she stood before one of the bloodied walls of the Commons, her shimmering skin almost translucent after a year of near-starvation.  Hope was gone. She'd been caught. 

Until now, she'd managed to survive the culling of her people, the Atramillons. Quickly, so quickly, she'd become apt at hiding from the League of Cleansing and their vicious hounds, laying low in rodent tunnels or remaining still for days in the tight, mud caves of a nearby bog. 

Six times this season, she'd travel North to the city of her birth, risking execution. Praise the Maker-Being, there were those who did not hate her species, those who endangered themselves and their families by being merciful.. Many of the Others offered her small amounts of food and water, a pair of shoes, one had even provided her with a knife. Sarlissia realized what would happen to those who had helped her, and though she now faced her death, she refused to call out, choosing to protect her protectors.   

Most windows of the nearby homes were dark, but she could still see several curtains lift.  The Others who had cared enough to give her scraps were a mere forty feet away. But she took small, shallow breaths and accepted that she was soon to become light and join all those who had been culled before her.

"Rot, where are your parents?" one of the soldiers asked. 

Sarlissia bit her lips, tried to still the quiver that had begun in her knees. 

"Clip her. Then we won't be able to shut her up."

Four heads turned as a door opened. 

It was Marion, kind Marion who'd given her more than any Other. Sarlissia shook her head, beseeched the kind lady with her eyes to turn and leave. 

Instead, Marian dashed towards her, wailing. One soldier lifted his assault rifle, but his Sergeant pushed the weapon down. "Wait!"

"Please, don't!" Sarlissia cried. "I am ready to die."

Marian reached the child, stroked her softly glowing cheek. "We have been silent too long. And I will no longer stand by to see the slaughter of the innocents. May your kind forgive us, one day."

"Stand aside,"The Sergeant called.  "They must be eradicated."

"I will not move." Marion lifted her chin. "You will have to cull me, too. Son."

The Sergeant shifted."Mother, they are not human, they are worse than vermin, capable of destroying the logic of nature, capable of-"

"What? Changing shape, healing, traveling through time? Yes. I know."Marion sighed. "What have you done, Thomas? My God, what have we all done? Can't you see that she means no harm? Her species deserved a chance. It was a mistake, one mistake-"

"One mistake that changed the course of history. Mankind cannot chance that kind of power in the hands of those we do not know and are unable to trust. Order must be restored, no matter by what means. No matter the cost. It is for the good of the many."

"Are you hearing yourself? We are the monsters, can't you see that? Marion shielded Sarlissia, her voice gruff. "Do what you must do and I will do what I should have done, long, long ago."

Sarlissia tried to move, but Marion held her fast.

Suddenly, several doors opened. Sarlissia began to weep, unable to control her fear for her beloved Others as more and more began to run towards her. Shame of jeopardizing these kind strangers consumed her.  She should have stayed away. 

Soon, there were dozens of Others around her, united in their want to save her.  The crowd grew to be hundreds.

The soldiers stood frozen, uncertain of what to do. Before them stood their friends and family, people they had known their entire lives. 

It seemed like a century until the Sergeant lowered his rifle. One by one the other soldier did the same. Weapons fell to the ground. There was a moment of silence, of stunned disbelief that Law would be broken.

Then Sarlissia looked up, smiled at Marion and nodded. The Others parted and the glowing girl walked towards the soldiers. 

She reached out and light traveled between her and the Sergeant, seemed to sing in the air around them. He dropped to his knees and began to weep. 

Sarlissia leaned forward, pressed her forehead against his and whispered, "Hush, I forgive you. After all, you're only human"



---- the---?----beginning------


Long poem by Darian Rehder | Details |

Love, Death, and Rebirth

The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Her father. 

Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.

She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left 
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too. 

She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before 
And growing darker day by day 
But she wouldn't let that stop her. 

Suddenly a year had passed... and then two 
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
Anyone...

With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries 
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light 
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand

The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives 
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.

She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
It would.

So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself

She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it 
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.

That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late 
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.

She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared,  and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying

Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn

Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!

And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here

So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?


Long poem by Maxine Jones | Details |

Blew it away like the sand

So I have some things, that I just have to say,
but please do not take me in the wrong way,
I have this tiny little problem, inside me you see,
and its called trying to live with ADHD.

These thing's that you say, they way you behave,
drive me insane, and inside me I crave,
to tell you your wrong, and look like a mug,
I cant stand the thought, of you being a thug.

If I see you pushing and constantly thrashing, 
my friends whom are weak, intending to bash em,
I will have to stand up, and defend with my heart,
Say it to me if you really wanna start!

Ill tell you the truth, don't you threat about that,
I'll never be scared of you, swinging that bat.
I've been through worse times, than you can inflict,
you can laugh and say that I am just a (b)witch.

I've taken many a beating, from one's harder than you,
you're a joke, you're clown, do the best you can do,
you will not like me, cause ill tell you the truth,
it ain't all about being a spoof.

You're a book that's been read, from cover to cover,
Predictable, laughable and not the best lover, 
you're as see through as cling film, but before its too late,
get a grip you sad person, before they will hate.

you can change the future, if only you'd try,
stop accusing and blaming, and questioning why?
look around you and see, you have a great life, 
but if you don't see before you, lose a possible wife.

So I'll tell it like it is, I wont mince my words
right there, right now, you got an incredible bird,
she loves you and would never hurt you, never make you cry,
but you spit and you hiss, and you don't even try.

You're straight out the book, the tactics you use
we know the next step, we know the short fuse,
The questions, the timing, the jealousy of friends,
its all a plan, for her social life to end.

There's really no need to hate and to follow, 
trust isn't really a bitter pill to swallow.
Life and love is really OK, 
don't be an idiot and throw it all away.

when you have a good woman be happy and proud,
get on that roof top and shout it out loud.
don't toss it aside, cause  your angry inside,
give love a chance, her on your arm bursting with pride.

I'll be honest, and truthful, and hope you will find,
the problem within, ill try to be kind,
but ADHD just makes me be true
I really mean no harm, just giving you a clue.

You can hate me, detest me, I really don't care, 
I know what your about, I'll stand and stare,
see if you have the balls,  to really be true, 
when you stand say 'hello, and how are you?' 

Been there, and done it, its really no big deal,
2 faced coward is what i do feel.
thing is it really, you don't need to be like that, 
but too proud to say, 'yeah OK I been a prat'

No need at all for the mess that is made, 
drag yourself out of that neanderthal cave.
there's more to life than fighting and hating,
you only get on shot, so love and stop wasting.

Let people in, let out your fears,
or cling on to em tight, for another 30 years,
hold on to trouble, grip tight onto hate,
lets these years pass you by, and then its too late.

look at yourself, are you really ok??
want another day marked off, with only hate to say?
we want to make you smile, and assure you its fine, 
hold glasses of wine up and clink with ' lets dine'

So I suppose the point, I am trying to say, 
with my ADHD, I'll just say it this way, 
My words come out 'hectic' and not make much sense,
but I'm trying to help you, I make no pretense.

If you think this is about you, or someone you know,
I hope that this poem will help someone to grow, 
Just ask and I'll tell you, I wont hide in the forest,
I don't have two faces, you know ill be honest!

So I bid you goodnight, and tell you I'm grateful, 
for Tony, my love, I can trust he'll be faithful,
He treats me with love and respect, don't harass me,
two way trust, with my man, means the world, I'll never judge he.

Shame on you wasters, throwing real love away,
it will spring up on you, you'll realize one day, 
you had it right there, in the palm of your hand,
but crushed it and blew it away like the sand.


Long poem by randall graves | Details |

Memory Lane

Moments to Reflect
Memory lane
Our memories are a part of us that helps us to grow. Reminiscing about the past keeps thoughts alive so that they will last. Memories are a record of all the things that we have experienced. We hold on to those that are dear and keep them without any fears. The good ones bring us joy while the bad ones bring many tears.
Yesterday has gone; our childhood to the now, we try our best to keep our wondrous memoires that are so profound around. So that when times are bad and when thing seems rough, they put a smile on face and keep us tough.
We dream of past glories of wars that we have fought and it does not matter if we won or lost or what was the cost. It helps us to cope with the problems that we have to face each day and give us hope. Memories they help to get us out of our self contained, egoistical ways of thinking; oh how finite our minds. Keeping the past alive and in our the way, falsifying the truth without any doubts so that you can find an out, from the tribulation that this day may bring; is not dealing with the now what our lives all about?
Yesterday; this was how it was, yesterday; if I only did this or that, yesterday; now that was a good day; but what about today and problem it brings dealing with good and the bad the past is the past it just do not last. It not about what it was that you were facing, it about you using the experiences of what you have already done without any fears so that you do not find a foot in your derriere. 
Our memories are a part of us that helps us to grow. Reminiscing about the past keeps thoughts alive so that they will last. Memories are a record of all the things that we have experienced. Some are hard to forget and some are hard to let go. They are hidden in the deepest, darkest closets in our mind. We try so hard to get around those that hurt that we chose not face them for the pain is sometime to great, we just have not got what it takes. We try to forget but no matter what they will always be a part of us. We try to fool ourselves into believing that they are not. We pretend that they have no meaning, but in reality they help to define you; like it or not. Embrace them we must or else they become nightmare, monster and creating pain and mistrust. Our memories are a part of us that helps us to grow. Reminiscing about the past keeps thoughts alive so that they will last.
Memories are a record of all the things that we have experienced. There is a problem that some do have about their experiences of the past. Shaded truths that brings lies into the future about the past, alternate reality, thinking you are what you aren’t. In our arrogance we think that we are hold six aces and will have the chance for that last dance. The lie that you tell yourself will tie you into knots and cause to have to take that bitter pill (facing the truth) so that you can get back to being real. 
Memories are a record of all the things that we have experienced. Good or bad they thoughts from your past, private archive within your mind, that will always be with you they do not define who you are if you do not let them play with your mind. 
Now here a memory for you to keep for all time so do not waste your time wondering what if, because of this memory was a precious gift. He came from Heaven to this earth and paid a price to give us new birth. Now if you keep this memory close to your heart you will find new life, have faith is all it takes.
From the cross to the earth, from the earth to the sky he did rise. Salvation and a peace of mind you will find. The light of truth and never a dark day will lead the way. He the truth and the light for He is the way, that’s what the Gospel said. Jesus is the only way remember the price that He paid. This faith, this memory just might save you on judgment day, faith in Him is the only way.
“In memory of father and the Son a debt that was not owed He paid. So that we could find our way back home, a memory worth keeping alive. He was wounded for our transgression, crushed for our iniquities: by His wounds we are healed”
Isaiah 53


Long poem by Poetryof Providence | Details |

Conflicted or star crossed lovers

Not a day goes by I don't think of you
you have permeated my fortress and walk freely in all its rooms
(examining it's furnishings)
how did I allow you entry without the
usual search scan and seizure ?
I'ts like a foreign substance and all
my antibodies are seeking to eradicate
your presence (anti-christs)
My mind and heart find your entrance exhilarating 
like ecstasy ( a neurologically happy drug ,
which by the way I've never imbibed in but the
other one I'm only slightly familiar with)
My body wants to throw you off like some
intruder to the death it lies in bondaged slavery of.
I finally understand the WAR.
I want to isolate this substance and imbibe at will
or as often as I desire.
There's no corner on the market for this substance,
you can only get this by freely accepting it as your 
own life blood , the loss of which kills us , but it's
flow is what keeps us alive.
I desire to lay in it's bliss
like basking in a warm sun's rays
unfortunately I burn easily , so I usually limit 
my exposure to substances I feel may do me damage.
But OH , HOW GOOD this FEELS , as though I should
have been born to this naturally .
But NO , love is not the natural substance of the world
in it's battlements and fortresses erected by men and
so thoroughly indoctrinated into his very being .
I just want to bottle this and share it with everyone.
But everyone "knows" every really really great substance
wears off and kicking the habit is way way painful .
But I want to suck this up and live in it , to have the heat
of it never dim , until it is an all consuming fire that lights
everything in it's sphere . Yes LOVE JUNKIE , child of God
a shameless addict to truth about the paths people choose
to "lose" themselves on . 
I've been like a bloodhound sniffing out every trail looking
for this substance the one that transforms you into fully
brilliantly vibrantly alive , and to roll in it until every fiber
of my being is saturated with it's fragrance.
The factory that manufactures this is built within , 
and I want unlimited access  , but my own body has
set up perimeters and walls to fence off my full access 
to my own God given life source ..(the curse)
You can only have full admittance when you can use
it's power to give life and not destroy others , to be 
able to manage it usefully for the benefit of all.
But I'm a natural indulgent in what feels good , 
substances always on the intake , seeking to have a 
balm that shields me from being abused or seeing 
my own abuses of Life. My ability to utilize a substance
so powerful is limited by my training , my will and my
exposure to everything that seeks to sell it on the open
market like a thrill seeker , or cheap whore who can be
had for a bouquet and dinner , which is quickly consumed
in one night and disappears tomorrow . Nothing that the
world offers can even slightly imitate the magnitude and 
power residing where Love dwells . When you've been 
allowed to taste its manna , the desire for a plateful
is now not even enough but the drive to constant partaking
of its presence is now an all consuming fire and I am 
driven to sign up for the lifetime plan . For better is a life
that feeds on love daily , than to choke and suffocate on
the bowls of hatred served up daily in the worlds menu.
I have relished the view from opposite sides of the room ,
when you're ready  for the permanent plan you will 
have to crossover to the other side . I know you read me,
like the good book , and when you understand you can
hide it from the world , but not from me , or yourself .
We want full access to the wellspring of life and love , I'm
willing to share the source , but it's a limited partnership (MLP)
on a lifetime plan , but it's riches are infinite and can only
be provided by the source. If you're willing to crossover , 
I'll allow you re-entry and full access ... Love  


COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Long poem by T Wignesan | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/metaphor_of_outrage,_translation_of_carlos_bousonos_poem_metafora_del_desafuero_516258' st_title='Metaphor of outrage, Translation of Carlos Bousono's poem: Metafora del desafuero'>

Metaphor of outrage, Translation of Carlos Bousono's poem: Metafora del desafuero

Metaphor of outrage, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : Metafora del desafuero

			                    ( In celebration of a birthday)
           for Andrés Amoros

Having been outside of you, yourself, dizzying voyage 
         and then
the quiet, beggar
of your conscience, hermit
in the desert of your inaction, believing
only in the cactus/thistle, in the excessive stone,
without a hole from which to drink, without food, without bread,
miserable and without grove
like a boat struck by tempest
but a tempest not particularly disruptive, without the grandeur
of this sum of experience
in a sea, now, later, monotonous, without end, monochromic,
	with greying water,
or, better still, without it, sailing on it in its non-colour,
sailing in the not-water, with continuity in the never-monotony,
or in the midst of ruins after an earth-quake
	that leaves everthing low,
rather in a place where there was no house nor where they put up 
monuments,
neither was the floor split open, nor were there cracks,
there, exiled, without the remembrance of a lost country,
dumb, without the notion of a language ido*
all the shine shorn off, all persuation, all complaint,
irremediably left alone, but without solitude,
yet you hadn’t any memory of any earlier companionship,
there, where no form of evocation could touch you,
even if to accomplish this, you had to be precise with the previous
	declaration ;
there, there you were with your back to your own being,
without seeing, without seeing yourself,
even if sometimes the opposite took place and you began to think with
	great clear-sightedness
who knows if for his (sic) condition, that is, principally,
your knee,
which happened, during this period, to occupy
the totality of your attentions and which grew (perceived then as of 	
a short distance) with it,
your enormous knee, your extraordinary foot, your great foot,
stepping on the treeless plain with resonance,
	in a clatter like the rattle of a tambourine,
your gigantic foot,
your treacherous leg, rotund, which grew longer, alone and 
autonomous, to a point where nobody could ever reach it,
and after that, but only afterwards,
your entire body made up of indeterminate materal, of noise, such 
that your skeleton without peer,
your terrible skeleton, advancing with great strides
towards no one, towards nothing,
because later
everything of a sudden began to diminish in size and returned little 
by little to its initial state,
and every part of your body began, by slow degrees – yes, this – to 
absent itself :
first the flesh and the skin disappeared, and then your erect sex : 
	impenitent, the object of ridicule,
even if the nails continued with indifference to grow,
attentive exclusively to its pre-occupation with its strange sense
	of avariciousness in an effort to acquire much more :
the hair, the beard, without paying any attention to how 
parsimoniously it proceeded,
but, following which, that in itself, subjected to such a state of 
enrapture, obliterated itself, and arrived punctually on the
generalization of the scrupulous duty to obedience,
which is to disengage itself, in all precision, without any exception
	whatsoever, nor leaving even an iota of dust on the polished 
surface of the piece of furniture,
disorder,
the chaos of not being seen, the scandal of invisibility, of confusion,
there, on the obverse side of truth, on the other side of lying
on the frontier which it was deemed not worthy of being demarcated,
this area without topography where truth and lies appeared 
intermingled
as the self-same answer to the question that you didn’t pose.
Oh ! Beggar of your conscience ! Oh ! Scrutinisor !
	Oh ! finicky Explorer !
Oh ! Celebrator of the unfortunate ! 

* Ido, cf. Idus, meaning the « Ides » of March, etc., in English. I don’t quite know. Could the poet be so kind as to enlighten us ?

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013


Long poem by Robert Candler | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/went_fishin_547715' st_title='Went Fishin''>

Went Fishin'


Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest
------------------------------------------------

Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.

A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.

My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.

He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”

He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip 
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”

While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”

As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on.  My hands were steady.

Yellow with black dots and a weed guard. 
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.

As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.

So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes. 

About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!  
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”

When the Bass broke water, it scared me. 
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook!  Set the hook!”

When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.

My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.

“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez.  Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed, 
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”

He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready.  This is the part that’s great.

I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”

Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.

My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”

“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”

“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…

but for the great stories we get.” 

I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.

You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.

They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”


Long Poems