Long Abode Poems
Long Abode Poems. Below are the most popular long Abode by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Abode poems by poem length and keyword.
Heaven will be whatever you make it, you see
Dog-catchers down here will chase dogs up there
Hog-butchers on Earth will slaughter hogs Upstairs
You choices down here
Seal your Fate up there
Look before you leap
If you'd ascend Heaven's stair
Spend your day texting, twittering, playing video games
Consecrate your energy to evanescent fame
You'll fritter away the Divine in your name
Spend Eternity in pursuits quite lame
Visit the sick, give alms to the poor
Love the stranger, the widow and orphan for sure
Extend them kindness, mercy, loving care
Continue your Heavenly work ~ in Ethereal care
When it's all said and done, when the race is run, when your time has come
Your abode in Heaven is what you create on Earth -- and then some
August 22, 2018
Down in a cabin built by Daddy’s hand,
On the far side of her Grandpappy’s land,
Long now forgotten but once filled with life,
Daddy and Momma as husband and wife…
And only one child survived Momma’s womb
Down where the wildflowers bloom.
A beautiful child, as stories would tell,
Who danced through fields in a dress of pastel,
The pride of her Daddy, Momma’s delight,
Her smile like sunshine that cleaves through the night.
A fam’ly of love in one tiny room
Down where the wildflowers bloom.
A young man from town came one day to call.
Daddy would say he liked him not at all.
After some time, still, her heart he would take,
And she gave her vow all for his love’s sake,
Becoming a bride, she took him as groom
Down where the wildflowers bloom.
As a young wife she would tend house all day,
While her husband’s business took him away,
For cash in hand was his constant concern,
While all she wanted was his quick return.
Lonely nights found her dancing with her broom
Down where the wildflowers bloom.
Years slowly passed and he never came home.
No correspondence from where he would roam.
And she, all alone in her small abode
Patiently waited so far from the road,
Fearing he wandered or met with his doom
Down where the wildflowers bloom.
Now by a cabin built by loving hands,
Far from the town, overgrown by the lands,
No more does she clean, no more does she dance,
No more does her heart cling to lost romance.
Still, she waits patiently in her dark tomb
Down where the wildflowers bloom.
For 'Guess Who' contest sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Born in the abode of the angels,
a blooming rose beautiful and coy;
Glance even from different angles,
as always you were a world of joy;
You rose to dizzy heights and stardom,
there was a time all you touched was gold;
Life of parties in glitzy filmdom,
t'was tragic to see your life unfold;
Caught in the murky web of showbiz,
you tried to be the part of it all;
Many marriages, heartbreaks, never is
easy to get over, and play ball:
Health took a turn for the worse for you,
but you neglected it to stay on top;
A magnet as controversies grew,
you were from a unique field and crop;
Hollywood is a scary place love,
should've known before diving headlong;
it has robbed your sweet innocence dove,
now, sleep ports you to where you belong.
40.
Ode to the Flower of April 2011
Got thee at the façade
Of my father's stone abode –
This day in world history
Important for somebody
England's future king & queen
Just got their Royal Weddin'
While writing this poem of mine
They're in their reception shine
Just after watching TV
I got this white pen with me
To write this poem of this month
With flower that's not fragrant
Which I picked this afternoon
Knowing Royal Wedding's soon
That's ‘coz I'd no more reason
This month just went on and on
Without any occasion
Wherein I can attend on
So this fourth flora's unique
Like a lid, like a gimmick.
-04/29/2011
*Ode to the 7 Flowers of 2011
wind chimes invoke serenity upon the vessels
of insouciant souls
but even with every woo of the wind an
unrequited howl echos though an empty abode
as we dress our iniquities in a trousseau of faith
allied to the vrigin of bliss
we misguide and forsake the creation of beauty
with litany as the glory of God becomes a myth
with indirect espertion we become rabbis of
ridicule and scholars of schemes
we dress happiness in a tunic of terror
and compensate truth for dreams
we implicate the innocent and regurgitate vanity
to feed our own egos
as our gestures of courtship flit on currents
of air like carrion eagles
the repertiore of elves and sprites falsely
imitates the incandescent radiance from the sun
reflecting off the moon at night
recognize not the goodness of deeds of women and men
for only deeds unknown will glorify God when faith transcends
Where have they gone?
Where have all the commuters gone?
Said an old Fox nuzzling my hand.
I usually hide and sleep during the day,
Not that I’m complaining you understand.
Where have all the motor cars gone?
Thought a Hedgehog crossing the road.
Usually I must run for my life,
To reach safety and family abode.
Where have all the children gone?
Cried the Ducklings down on the pond.
We haven’t been fed for weeks,
Of that stale bread, we are so fond.
Where have all the vapor trails gone?
Squawked Jackdaw high in his tree.
When I was bored, I could count the lines,
On a good day, fifty-two or fifty-three.
Where have all the Rat poisoners gone?
Gnawed a large rodent leaving his drain.
I am free to infest all your houses,
Causing havoc and crazed panic again.
Where have all the hunters gone?
Cooed Game-birds flying free and high.
No lunatics beating the bushes,
Compelling us to be blasted from the sky.
Where have all the people gone?
Cheered the animals reclaiming their land.
We normally stay out of your way,
The world is ours now, do you understand.
As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.
So is the he that a man thinketh
and becometh
as perishable
corruptible
dialogues infinite and resistant.
Universal universe spreads open
nonexistent legs to reveal the womb of creation.
Birth comes to ideas
and desires manifest
before and with
the blades of grass
on desert sands.
All to bow before mountains
formed before monkey-men
glimmered in her All-Seeing Eye.
Who dares to free the Jinn
from its eternal abode?
For man's mere whim,
she concedes and grants
all that the blood pump
could ever
would ever
desire.
As a man thinketh so is he.
All that is
all will ever be
and begins in the sparking,
invisible,
imagination of meat and bone,
dust and stone
doing apache summersaults.
Form:
Perhaps somewhere in a third world country,
or even in an American city somewhere near you,
there's a family short on cash, short on food, short on hope.
There are no chestnuts roasting in their open flame,
and they are not dreaming of a white Christmas.
On any given day or night, be it Christmas or not,
their lives are filled with pillage, poverty, and plunder.
Their humble abode is a shack in a war-torn village.
Their place of refuge is terror-filled among rival gangs.
She wipes her tear-drenched face and hides the pains.
Nothing is bright, and most things are sad and unsightly.
Their nights are mostly dark and neither silent nor holy.
Violence and fear constantly rule their streets,
and merry is a rare day when there's food to eat.
They have fallen between the cracks and all they
see all year, day in and day out is a life of lack.
There are no Toys for Tots in their home town,
and jingle bell songs never make a single sound.
All of their four children perished on Christmas Day.
Suddenly, an earthquake hit and took their lives away.
They have heard of The Christ Child and their hope is alive.
They don't ask for much and never blame God for anything.
121619PoSoupContest, The Darker Side of Christmas, Richard Lamoureux
Contest 2, Second Chance,(Dark Side of Christmas)Richard Lamoureux.2P
"As the mind is permeated by the darkness of despair,
in the sanctum of my soul God’s blessing lights the lamp".- by Poet
The formidable mountain of life I’ve to climb,
the summit to be reached on the track undefined.
I surrender to the designed will of the Almighty,
and in His prescribed intent I repose my trust,
for I know faith will pave the pre-defined path for me.
The tumultuous ocean of life I need to sail CALM,
for the last anchorage on the TRANQUIL shore I’ve to reach.
I’ll kindle the beacon of hope at the edge of twilight time,
in the stormy sky of despair I’ll see the silver-lined cloud.
The pole star in the dark night will shine STILL and bright,
help me chart my ordained course to the destination,
the divine light will take me to the shore of liberation.
The darkness flooding fallen sky of suffering I’ll illumine,
find flowers bloom in the debris of the broken heart.
I’ll light the candle of selfless altruism laced with love,
see it radiate PEACEFUL divine glow of God’s grace,
perceive my liberated SERENE soul find infinite solace
in the QUIET abode of absolute bliss in the eternity
_______________
May 11, 2021
Contest : Writing Challenge-Calm
Sponsor : Constance Le France
A Greek mythological classical character chosen,
Medusa with her snake hair and stone stare, a frozen
Look turning people to stone, originally a vision of beauty,
A woman of erotic desire, who inflicted unimaginable cruelty,
Her destiny to become an unapproachable monster,
Many attempted to kill her, heroes and many a mobster,
Her punishment, all because Poseidon willfully raped her
Bringing about woe upon all women whoever they were.
The Greek God Perseus renowned for killing
Such beasts, ordered by King Polydectus whether willing
Or not, to go and bring back her head,
Perseus had a plan how to slay Medusa, delivering it dead.
This was a hero, but still sweat collected on his brow, DRIP
Drip, drip, but bravely approached her abode, a swift SNIP
Went his sharp sword which did ,SMASH
Down with might, and Medusa’s blood did SPLASH
It was rumored that from the severed head came a BELCH
As her blood in Perseus’s hands went SQUELCH.
This warrior’s deed was certainly brash, swiftly did snatch
Medusa’s head, Perseus the hero for whom there was no match.
Well worked his plan, held his shield at an angle, a space
At which he could see the reflection of her face
On his shield, but not look into her eyes, he scored an ace,
The horrifying snakes in her hair died, her eyes ablaze
A statue of Medusa’s head shown as averting assailant’s gaze.
Contest Entry: Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Date: 01/11/2021