Long Accepting Poems
Long Accepting Poems. Below are the most popular long Accepting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accepting poems by poem length and keyword.
Walking through the streets of my home town
Reaching for the Memories of days long passed
Seeing nothing of what I once knew
Accepting the fact
That I can never go back
To the time when doors remained unlocked
And no one ever knocked
When a whole section of town converged on one home
A death in the family brought neighbors to your door
There was a sense of community and
Dignity was not a status symbol
Wednesday's the miner rested
In the afternoon possibly at a local bar
While clothes lines decorated back yards
Clorox making it new again
Found a quarter equals five on the pinball unless
She was there
Making three and two cokes a better selection
Baseball glove dangling from the handlebars and
there was no charge for dreams
The park beckoned the wild bunch with a pack of Luckies
Never thinking twelve was too young
And not knowing
The tragedy of progress
Those days when friendships bonded a town
Anger only lasted until the fight was finished
There was a game tomorrow night
Winner and loser going to see it together
And the only real enemy was
TIME.
Improving our status requires hard work.
An abundance of years has made us old.
Majority of school mates have gone on.
And accelerating days increase our speed
Newly reborn by accepting Jesus as my personal savior.
Only as old as we feel.
Liar, liar, pants are on fire
Death has it’s eye on us.
Cozy was not synonymous with old.
Objective in life, is outperforming our expectations.
Death is the payment for our use of space.
Golden years is a misnomer, some are more like rust.
Edifying God always makes our life easier.
Recommend making your peace with God before it’s late.
Sweet late night kisses
In a familiar parking lot,
Hold me longer and don’t lie to me
Comforting lies are not enough.
I’ve been on my own for so long
I’ll wait a month longer;
I close my eyes and I can see
your wrinkled hand holding mine
on a sunny 80 something bench.
In your arms, I found reason to
Forgive all my past mistakes
I found a way to let go,
Let this strong and accepting heart
Be fragile and hopeful again.
I fear to become like Florence
The beautiful lady upstairs that danced alone,
That died alone.
Take me with you
Dance with me,
Let’s dance under this forgetful moon.
You whispered you only dance for love
And you’re dancing with her.
I prayed for you to come away with me,
But now I can’t pray for myself
I can only pray for your happiness.
I’m crossing the days that make up this month,
Days take over nights
As nights take over days,
And yet time is so still.
One month,
Is too long for my tired, doubtful mind.
Maybe I should forget you,
Let you dance with her.
I shall dance alone,
Alone;
Just like my beautiful Florence.
When this gift is given, does it strike fear into the hearts of the Peddlers of Perdition?
The Peddlers, what will they sow in the hearts of humanity once the gift is given?
Are the illusions they give, trap the naive into not accepting this wonderful gift?
Will they soil this gift with words of deceit?
Is this Gift to all our salvation?
The touch of this small gift, will it enlighten and awaken us in unity of love?
Does the gift enlightens the many by loving examples through sacrifice?
Am I the gift, small and insignificant that no one sees?
Who is this gift given in this time of need?
is not as yet our awareness
flowing gently in an unbroken continuum
in an orientation of thought rested desirelessness
wherein each bliss ignited node within form is our sensorium
is not as yet our attention still
vibrantly present without interference
allowing the divine sublime love impulse to instil
soma nectar within each lifetron revealing our luminescence
is not as yet our cognition gentle
accepting each on an as is where is basis
recognising we are being shaped upon the mantle
in timeless time all becoming love enabled in divine caress
12-March-2021
Crime is a real problem in Jamaica
Hundreds are dead, there's no solution to the problem
Even the police are giving up ...the police commissioner has resigned ...sir trust me, no one man can solve this problem...you did your best
In the meantime, we are still counting bodies
We hear the cries but ...no solutions
We only can call on God now
The problem started long before our time, when garrison politics was the order of the day
Few are educated
No real opportunities
The big man distributing guns in the inner city
Young men smoking weed on the corner
Pregnant teenagers
Women selling themselves for a few dollars
No father in the house and our men still believe they should have" gal in a bungle "
Where is the church in all of this? busy talking about the cover of a phone book and nothing on crime ...seriously
We can't win the war on crime until we win the war in the family, we need real role models, we need real men …yes MEN
The truth is until we start teaching our men to be responsible we will never win the war on crime
until it's at our front door before we get serious
When our women stop washing bloody clothing for their gun men son and mate
Yes, we all need to stop accepting bull **** before all this will end
Until then we will continue to count bodies, when will it end, when the society start taking responsibility
It’s been said that love is natural and, hate is learned.
But I see it differently.
Hate is the easy one,
popular, contagious, taught in whispers and shouts.
It grows wild in the mind,
distorting truth at every turn,
a maze that traps those who stop questioning it.
Love though ,
love is the lesson.
Love takes awareness, honesty, risk.
It asks you to step beyond fear,
to see beauty in every soul,
even when the world teaches division.
If love came naturally,
hate wouldn’t stand a chance.
Because once you’ve truly been touched by love,
you begin accepting what you don’t yet understand
and understanding what you once refused to accept.
That’s why I speak on hate,
not to spread it,
but to expose it.
Awareness is armor.
Every family has them
These unsettling times, these misunderstandings
Times when many things come into play
In most cases these wee spats are soon over and forgotten
But sometimes differences run deeper
Because of other factors
Such as jealousy, middle child syndrome, personality
It's only human nature at play
The necessity for all to find our place
In the overall scheme of life
To establish one's self in the pecking order
And accepting it without malice, without jealousy
A hard lesson to learn when we're brand new at he game
Always suspecting that siblings
Are the ones receiving preferential treatment
In reality, they are reacting in exactly the same matter
Trying their best to learn the ropes
To understand what life means, what life is all about
But we never do have all the answers
Even if we survive those uncertain early years
And live to the ripe old age of thirty...
Well that is what old age is when you're a teenager
Please be assured, you WILL get through
And be a well adjusted adult
It's hard to maintain a strong democracy
when people elect a kakistocracy.
To those who believe in "America First":
your government now consists of the worst.
The POTUS must be cruel and cockeyed
choosing a cabinet of the least-qualified.
Only someone vile and obscene
would select a Health Secretary who is anti-vaccine.
And the Education Secretary must be stunned:
she actually refers to AI as "A One"!
But then, a man with a history of disorderly conduct
would choose sycophants who are cracked and corrupt.
The new definition of stupid
is accepting those who are unsuited,
knowing the truth and seeing it with your own eyes,
but still believing the hype and the lies.
I am what I am,
As I always have been,
From the time when first I was born;
And for me to try,
To be anything else,
For certain would leave me forlorn.
True happiness comes,
From accepting yourself,
Not trying to be like your brothers;
For we each possess,
Both virtues and faults,
Though some may differ from others.
Each of these things,
Form the basic make-up,
Of each individual person;
And as long as God,
Is happy with that,
We've no call for jeers or for curses;
So I will be happy,
Just as I am,
For that is all I can be;
Not some carbon copy,
Of somebody else,
I'm too busy just being me.
(To Thine Own Self Be True)