Long Action Poems
Long Action Poems. Below are the most popular long Action by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Action poems by poem length and keyword.
Paper Have Not
Cut down an evergreen
Cut up wrapping paper
Paper wrap presents
Paper covered with bows ribbons
Ribbons silks new and old
Ribbons sparkle blue and gold
Gold yellow some in texture
Texture ribbons half inches
Inches celebrated wrap
wrap presents under tree
Tree decorated simply
Simply covered in tinsel
Tinsel threw on by children
Children waiting for Christmas
Morning comes
Comes down the stairs
Stairs all the family
Family gathers
Gathers round the tree
Tree lit flashing so pretty
Pretty little girls
Girls pink pajamas
Pajamas blue boys
Boys wanting toys
Toys for all children
Children unwrap
Unwrap presents
Presents our parents
Parents holding hands
Hands unwrapping gifts
Gifts provided
Provided by God
God greatest gift Jesus greatest of all
All gathered together
Together forever
Forever spiritually physically
Physically we hug
Hug expressions of love
Love in action
Actions louder than words
Words so expressed
Expressed blessings
Blessings are fervent
Fervent is prayer
Prayer for what we have
Have what we not
Not all is lost cause
Cause we have Christ
Christ is gift not
For Contest: A Blitzing Christmas
Sponsor: taal tekai
12/16/17
“Enthusiasm is nothing more or less than faith in action” – Henry Chester
Oh, glitter dreams, I had to let you go
though in my youth, you’re all that I longed for.
Faith fled when my sweet passions lost their glow.
Some plans I made fate forced me to forego.
They vanished like when tides recede from shore.
Oh, glitter dreams, I had to let you go.
One’s destiny can be a bitter foe.
It took from me my fervor to explore.
Faith fled when my sweet passions lost their glow.
When young, I never thought with age came woe.
Life taught me this when hope walked out my door.
Oh, glitter dreams, I had to let you go.
I’m older, and though wiser, dying slow.
Fate tore my wings so that I could not soar.
Faith fled when my sweet passions lost their glow.
I thank my Lord for gifts He does bestow
on me, but pray my good health He’ll restore.
Oh, glitter dreams, I had to let you go.
Faith fled when my sweet passions lost their glow.
Truth-The Allusive Beast
susan Q miller © 2018
Tell me where the truth lies.
I want to find it now,
Though I know this allusive beast is always on the prowl.
Does the beast ever lay,
Quiet, certain in its place?
Will I someday see what it looks like
Or has it an ever, changing face?
It’s winter outside this morning,
Too cold to go out for play.
So I sit in bed and wonder
What Truth looks like today.
Will I see it in the mirror or on the evening news?
More likely I’ll get a glimpse
If I follow my Muse.
Please lead me dear companion ‘til I find my way
Back through the jungles and the cavern walls
That keep me closed off from you.
I trust you on this journey,
Guide me on this flight
So even in my darkness
I might glimpse the Truth tonight.
Then I heard you say, "Why bother,
What purpose have you
To seek the truth uncovered?
What will you do then?
Go back to idling time away?"
I just sat, pensive, wondering,
No answer, nothing to say.
ART AS A GESTURE
a
zest
of
satisfaction
in
a
gusto
of
ultimate
certainty
deepens
with
intimacy
of
accidental
curiosity
inherent
perception
within
transposes
emotion
in
the
miracle
of
our
disparate
mind
unhindered
visible
audible
in
the
tangible
expressiveness
of
outgoing
energy
of
tactile
significance
consummated
&
uniquely
pervading
&
pervasive
internally
integrated
self concerned
in on-going
interplay
of
expression
incorporating
past
coherent
awareness
of
conceived
interactactions
berthed
in expressive
action
of
awakened
personal
pictorial
presentations
of
prior
experience
in
the
completely new
*Authors note: Be prepared for the inappropriate use of a fork. (Shelter your children.) Proper and Improper soup matters and manners are explored. Legal interpretations and fears surrounding the viewing of and consumption of soup are lightly touched on and on display for the shock value, pleasure, entertainment and amusement of all. (The author here is lobbying for the use of spoons...as well he should.)
I Hate Soup
I hate soup!
No I don't
I love soup
Get your story straight
We are going before the judge today
He or she is probably judgmental
If they hate you more than the soup
I don't know what They'll do
If they love soup you can only pray for leniency
Claim insanity
It is only a lost day in court
Stay away from name brands before the law
Keep it simple
It is safer not to say Campbell's
Lipton is forbidden
You are being charged with complicity
Watching a full fledged felony in action
In broad day light is more than a misdemeanor
Someone dared to eat, to slurp their soup in public
Sipping it in plain view is a capital offense
On top of that a fork was used
Why oh why did you dine at the Greasy Spoon
What bad timing… What bad news
Now you have to pay
Soup crimes are severe in the light of day
Penalties for watching are much more graver
Not reporting it is simply crazy
I hate soup
I love soup
It does not matter
I'm being sued
Nature skips and dances like a clown
Nature looks upon us with a frown
Hats on our heads boots on our feet
Colorful banners parading in the street.
The splendor of the morning heightened
And exhale the wrath of nature’s fears
The earth opens its bleeding gut
And whisper words of comfort in our ears
Words of solace brought us to tears.
We set out on a buoyant journey
Armed with strength and valor
Saddled with faith and bold action
A thousand strong, courage in our hands
We marched and sing a victory song.
We marched into municipality and towns
We paraded inner cities and strong garrison
We advance through beautiful homes
Striding upon rough spots and stumbling upon
fraudulent properties with ghastly surprise.
We tread upon down a slow running stream
With rocks embedded uniformly in river beds,
Rocks staring at us reading their own eulogy
Lay still with water running slowly over
their battered heads.
Nature brought us to a specific lot
with signs pointing to unusual spots
Each place has a trace that leads to nowhere
barren land and dead end spot it was only a plot.
Signs hang miserable on trees,
Signs planted in-between broken fences
Deceiving weary travelers and busy hikers.
Signs pointing to a grand exhibition on a farm land
Took us in a round about through the busy town
but no exhibition was found.
We followed another sign but it leads us to a
dilapidated house surrounded by beautiful homes
And a signs that says "park" landed us in the dark
We stormed through the suburbs pulling out deceptive signs
Piecing our own design and finally we seized the brutal mastermind.
©2014 Christine Phillips
I can feel it, talking to me silently
My words pause, as if itself was thinking
Telling me how it feels I live and write
Darkness alive as if light lives
I know death, I am not afraid
Spirit realm, there my soul be free
I hear satan temptations cries
But I do not feel his presence
Tho I walk in the valley shadow of death
I am moved in being my steps be
I am only a man, myself even guilt
Weakened by the flesh, tempt of life's foundation
I feel it, as if I could touch myself
I wonder if it sleeps or lays guard
My eyes lay shut to the world
Spirit realm of dream land
Say tell story, some I wish not to know
My spirit, my responsibility heaven or hell
Life and death we hold no control
To each their action be their consequences
Reaping what you sow, soil spoiling away
Like an apple rotting the bushing
Your soul falling to a world past
You care not for change only yourselves
But you forget the being inside you breath
Spirit realm, even in death it still lives
Got first love yourself to love another
...See, when she let her guard down, when she looked deep,
she saw things that left her somewhat disturbed,
Roxanne didn’t know her man’s favorite color,
and that fact didn’t really upset her.
She didn’t know that much of his home town,
or of the dreams that pushed him on in life,
she didn’t feel the need to learn the things
you normally expected of a wife.
And sometimes she imagined, when they made love,
some of the men she knew in the old days,
she even recalled a fine brothel client
the night that their second daughter was made.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like her Stu,
there was little to criticize in him,
but could she survive without him by her side?
Yes, she could, she realized to her chagrin.
When she realized this she heard that damn man,
her last client back at the bordello,
the man she had dismissed as a sexist,
now she wondered, had he been in the know?
It took her many months to accept this,
it went against all she’d ever been taught.
Could there be truth in his thoughts on women?
And if it was so, then what had she wrought?
Had her teenage self been so arrogant
to think that she could outwit tradition?
Had she destroyed her chance to truly feel
following her 'free-spirited' vision?
She’d always though the restrictions on sex,
at least those placed on the female kind,
had been oppression, acts of injustice,
but now troubling thoughts came to her mind.
If all this was older than what she learned,
if innate truths had long been in action,
why had she not learned about such a threat?
Why had these ideas never gained traction?
Why weren't women being told how things were?
Why all the half-truths of what lay beneath?
Could she have avoided this emptiness
if she'd been warned of what paths not to seek?
And now, nearly forty, it was too late,
she could not change the girl she had once been,
she had lived as they told her to believe,
and now she never could really bond with men.
Roxanne liked her husband, liked Stu a lot,
but she now knew it could never be love.
She wouldn’t divorce, that would hurt her girls,
she would stay with him, she would make it enough.
How would she live, how could she deal with this?
She didn’t even know where to begin,
but she’d do what she could to make sure her girls
both made it to the altar as virgins.
Ambiguous Loss**
(a paradox of presence and absence )
(coined by researcher educationist Pauline Boss)
You disappeared.. without a last goodbye
a story ends incomplete, holding on to hope
beneath frozen tears, an ambiguous sigh
an uncertain mystery, tell me how to cope.
a story ends incomplete , holding on to hope
you are dead or still alive, an unresolved grief
an uncertain mystery, tell me how to cope.
ruminating worried thoughts , never in relief
you are dead or still alive, an unresolved grief
a persistent sorrow, where have you gone?
ruminating worried thoughts , never in relief
in cold storage you live, how do I move on ?
a persistent sorrow, where have you gone?
beneath frozen tears, an ambiguous sigh
in cold storage you live, how do I move on?
You disappeared... without a last goodbye.
**Ambiguous loss is a loss that occurs without closure or clear understanding.This kind of loss leaves a person searching for answers, and thus complicates and delays the process of grieving. (Wikipedia ).It is prominent when a loved one goes missing , soldiers lost in action , the family live in continual loss difficult to reconcile .
.
15th February 2020
Sponsor Line Gauthier
Contest Name PANTOUMT
Emotions are fragile.
They're something to behold.
The smallest irritation
Could set it alight.
The tiniest action
Could light up the sky.
Emotions are easy
If you know what to do.
Control and awareness
Is required of you.
But not all are lucky
As some face a struggle.
Comprehending and accessing
Is not easy for them
Yet they do so wish.
Then there are those
Who feel it at once.
100% of that feeling
Crashing in your chest.
Squeezing the lungs
And sucking out air.
Emotions come to you
In all shapes and sizes.
Different intensities
Dependent on situations.
They are fragile,
Easily set off
By the smallest
Of conveniences.
If one is not careful,
They'll lose sight of their path.
Goodbye to all you worked for
Because it all took over.
The danger in
These fragile emotions
Is this:
You can't let it
Take over your being.
You must have control
And maintain it always.
By doing so
You will come to find
That emotions depend on you;
It's not the other way 'round.
You have the emotions.
You have the control.
Accept it for what it is
And all will be well.