Long Affirmations Poems

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


Chanting Away To Bliss

God is an epitome of love, service and perfection
Throughout our life, we seek love
We serve our senses, body, family and society willingly
We aim for perfection, to the best of our ability
God is eternal, we act as if we are eternal

This is because our soul is a fragmental part of God, 
existing within God
We are souls not body

Out of delusion, we feel we are the body
Live to satisfy needs of our body and that of those around us
Clinging to body, we suffer perpetually
Our life becomes a saga of unending physical and mental pain

Neither body nor this world belongs to us
Both are selfish, trying to fulfill their needs through us
We can never have peace while we are attached to body and world
We need to end our delusion

God has given humans free will and intelligence
so that we may seek and see our soul
understand our true position within God 
Go back to Him

To get detached from world and body 
To be attached to unknown, unseen is not easy
Ancient Indian scriptures provided a solution
Positive affirmations of truth through powerful mantras
to attain the highest of states in which the individual self 
dissolves inseparably in Brahman or God

Prajnanam Brahma - Consciousness is Brahman
Ayam Atma Brahma - This self is Brahman
Tat Tvam Asi - Thou art That or You are one
Aham Brahmasmi - I am Brahman or I am Divine

Chanting of these mantras either during meditation
Or while we go about our daily tasks
helps remove our delusion
~~~

Love all, serve all, treat all with equal respect
All are embodiment of almighty
Loving, serving all is akin to loving service to God

Denounce falsehood, embrace truth
Dedicate your life to the loving service of almighty 
It is perfection in action

You become one with God
Realise all are him
Tat Tvam Asi
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Corinthians 12
Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

Romans 12:5
So we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.

John 13:34 
A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.

Ephesians 5:1
Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children

13.07.2021
For Tat tvam asi, Unseeking seeker
Form: Imagism


My Wife the Paper Shredder

Buried in an avalanche you
might see on "Hoarders buried alive"
back and foreground
white sheet with limited pay per view,
nonetheless sky scraping heap

(Uriah not kid) nsync with a 'U'-
shaped tube anchored securely thru
solid wood - sporting
towering, leaning, bulging, et cetera slew,
sans huge sized mounds,

this goodfella cockily rue
stirs memories while
almond joying sifting,
(comprising ream mains of outdated queue
vee cee paraphernalia, bank statements, old

fair maidens faded letters, phew
against unrequited lovely lasses
kissed by either gentile or Jew
us gal, during young manhood
confession stated, aye did accrue

now (said besmirched Casanova
wannabe across floor I did strew
said, no longer promising princess,
whose once tenderly fresh rose buds
exuded profusely courtesy ingénue

argh..., how frivolous to argue
with cowardly former self, hence
into the maw of das spouse (Sibyl)
she more than enthusiastically
masticates regarding unblossomed

(romantic opportunity) yours truly blew,
when flickr ring spark flame snuffed out
before profound love chanced to hint
of compatibility, ah... nary a blues clue
maybe best not to fantasize

going down nostalgia avenue,
but cast attention upon motley crew,
no matter I traversed
boulevard of broken dreams
(but oh this...pray lemme tell you

more on this cool spring green day)
ornamented with boughs of churrigueresque
mother nature's divinely wrought
sensational beauty procreative forces construe,
yanking fanciful thoughts back to feeding

pulpy material pages of me child's worldview
scribbled squiggly blurred lines
no doubt gifted artistic prodigies shew
did evince talent this papa doth truly value,
yet an excess of near identical curlique

leaves little breathing room, plus report
cards shows innovative smarts,
frequent affirmations this dada paid due
tee, which gushing praise
my girls never taxed for, yet both knew

this aging baby boomer father decries
being swamped with exorbitant clutter
hence effort now made to save whar grew,
some artistic embellishment and/or

intellectual award, the majority hesitantly fed
into jaw of thee missus the human flew
where hard copy quickly incinerated inducing
me to sneeze atchew!

The Christmas Story Miracle 2015

I am here today Christmas Eve 2015 to share my miracle and the Christmas Story Miracle of 2015. Last year  near Christmas Eve on the Winter Solstice I attended a service to honor the Return of the Light or the Christ Light/Christ Conspicuousness.

I wrote copy of lyrics of a song about the Return of the light because the minister who was administering the outdoor service would ask if anyone wanted to contribute a word or two during the service.

We gather in the cold in the woods after sunset some of us brought lawn chairs while others set on logs, the night was clear and beautiful. I looked up and watched the night sky in wonder.

But when the call came to  volunteer one's voice during the service I remained silent and did not sing the song which I had crumbled up in my back pocket.

This week of Christmas 2015 I was thinking that I will attend at least two or more Christmas Eve services to do it again and lift up my voice to sing a song that was on my heart.

And that's when I got the sign on Christmas Eve morning 2015, when I  first wake up and I opened my bedroom door to the small hallway leading to the living room I spotted a fold-up piece of yellow writing paper.

It was the same yellow writing paper that I had crumbled up in my pocket last year (that song) and that I have not seen since, where did it come from, how it get here on the floor and how did it come from were the many questions running to my awake/sleepy mind at 5 am.

Some one told me that I walk around in my own home in a fourth state of dimension but I do not believe this. I believe that the angels/my guides/Mother Mary may have sometime to do with  my Christmas miracle.

Most of my inspired messages, thoughts, poems and affirmations come to me in that stage of asleep/awakening.

And what I heard this morning was this:

Fall to call

To know

Born from sin

Born again

To Ascend

From thyself

to thyself

A joyful noise

Psalms 100:

'Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the lands!'

When I am in attendance at Christmas Eve service today I will carry that same yellow crumbled up  piece of paper (that returned to me) with a message that Christmas for me is about the Return of the Christ Light.
© Mel Brake  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Enemy Within

THE ENEMY WITHIN



She’s in there arguing with my affirmations.

She's sabotaging my dreams.

She kicks my best decisions in the derriere.

She confuses my left brain, my god brain,

And she encourages the repetitive behavior



That never worked in the past;

She overrules the changes made by my spirit mind.

She never allows the cognition, of sane

Behavior to take the reins. She reassures me that I am fine.

She has redirected my thoughts so that concentration,

And gumption never sees eye, to eye.

Then she exercises and builds up her strength,

As I do nothing.

She loves me and comforts me

Whenever I am lethargic, and she tells me 

The best thing to do is nothing.

Whenever I manage to call in the troops of my adrenalin,

She conquers them with fear. She provides the lie that

My one voice is never going to be enough.

and tells me I will never be heard, and that

I will never be the mercenary of change so I relent.



I give in to the enemy within.

The only antidote I know is to tell my friends,

And they who stand with me can chant and pray...

And purge her from my system.

“Will you point the way”-

Will you please help me.?

Help me, to fight injustice,

Help me to restore integrity?

Help me to say no poverty.

Help me to defy authority.

Lend me a hand

As a poet and a friend,

Help to end the rule of this enemy

That dwells within.

I will be stronger if you do.

I am out of wit, only you can replace it.

If I run out of time – Only you can carry on;

If I run out of love, can you give me some?

I am out of ammunition,

And I cannot fight the world alone.

I cannot ask God before asking my kindred beings.

God will ask me why I passed up my fellow man,

To get to him.

My prayer is to be replenished.

What God has started; He will surely finish.

But he needs me to ask you for help as my friends,

To demolish this enemy that dwells within.

When I am stronger you can lean on me again,

Together, we 'll claim the victory,

Over this ill-advised enemy... That lives within me.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Nothing shines endlessly

Do not fall in love with people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave, you will finally understand, why storms are named after people. Caitlyn Siehl

In this episode of suppression,
I refuse to speak, as you know 
words could flow in sorrows.

But a melancholic mind 
is the nemesis of a poet.
Forcing fingers to bleed
raindrop tears into ink,
where metaphors are an adversary
and you don't need to confess
that there are no more verses
that can be called sacred 
when crimson waterfalls flow in veins,
so, I curse my merciless muse,
which ignores the heart's plea

..... yet, I wonder if there can be love without poetry.

Once, when my garden nourished snowdrops,
upon the arrival of robins in spring,
I was your golden orb,
but you no longer bask in my glory
and impatient crows follow my footsteps.
Now that you've bloomed,
it feels as though my purpose 
has been abruptly stolen.
I curse those premeditated prophecies,
spoken from an omniscient tongue,
so I wander like Cupid without arrows,
mute like a flutist without a flute.
Hoping to sleep forever in an asylum 
of wildflowers you have left behind.

Upon the return of silence,
I'm no longer the thorns upon your rose stalk.
Once strong branches reveal empty nests,
as my roots become exposed over cold earth.
covered with autumn leaves -
I feel their anguish as the breeze 
scatters them under oblivious feet.

You were forbidden,
but I was not the only sinner.
Never powerful enough to 
become the ringmaster in your circus -
I hope you never tame.

I'm trapped within an aura,
resembling cremated affirmations -
yet, I know my spirit will ignite again.

I remember when you
only saw the moon,
so I paraded for you 
a galaxy of stars.
But just like planktons
on a beach - nothing shines endlessly.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.


Weaving

The late afternoon sun filters through spruce and hemlock
as I sit here with my juice and my jacket on.
I was ready to say goodbye to this so long so.
As beautiful as this leafy world is, it is not serving me.

I know I am a child.  I know I am not my age.
I cannot reason the way that would help me function best
and make the appropriate decisions.
Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier.  I live with this.

Choosing another city wasn’t easy.
It’s ripped me apart, exposed my harsh vulnerability
which just makes me want to run and hide.
What if?  and that?  I don’t have what I used to have
which was also the protection of a Family.  A Place.  People.  A Life.

It is my task now to create a new one from a fabric so thin,
not sure I know how to weave anymore.
Serves me not to think about the past and all I did then.
All that exists is putting one painful foot in front of the other.

Will I have enough to eat?  A clean pretty place to sleep?
Is my mind so confused that I cannot put up a lamp to read?
Can I wash a tub that isn’t yet mine?  Will my mark stay on it?
Do I contain enough of an imprint any longer that it will stick?
Become mine?

As a woman, this is what I’ve done is leave my mark
on things, people, places.
My territory.  My boys.  My bathroom.  My car.
I need to fashion some way out of air to make this mine now.

Trying to remember...........don’t rush.
How can a calligrapher create a beautiful character without time and a brush?
Breathe.  Water.  Sit.  Affirmations.
Do some and then begin again. 

I remember this from a past life.
Just do the task in front of you which will lead to the next one.
Small parts, that’s what I Can do, is small things.
Trust.  Believe.  Have faith.

I shall weave something glistening
out of nothing much to speak of.
Or better yet, get of the way and let it become what it shall.
This is a puzzlement, a new city, a new life.
But, I will be with it.  I will be present as this new life shows me all there is to see.
Form: Ballad

Real

Being real requires you
not to conform to society's lies and 
learn about what makes you vibe
and embracing it
Standing firm for the things you love 
and taking the negative things and erasing it
Refuse to let it rear it's ugly head
Negativity comes from how you process the nonsense you've been fed
I recognize it's easy to be  misled
SO 
I encourage you to find the truth in what's been said
and gain knowledge of self
because I just can't help but to moan about
the many who allow themselves to become slaves of misunderstanding
ignorance begets ignorance and it's time for overstanding.

Simply repeating affirmations of well being is a start in achieving what needs to be 
addressed...Simply repeating affirmations of well being is a start in achieving what 
needs to be addressed.
Meditate on that
Wrap tie your hair ladies show some respect

And in the meantime
haters got gray contacts attached to their pride
denying who they are 
accepting that black is a disease and that it's ok to be called a nigg(a)er
I was once considered 2/3 of a person
How does this make sense I just can't fig(a)ure.

Treated like my ancestors before me
didn't slave for this country and that the
blood sweat and tears from their tired foot steps running 
Was just a thing! BUT SCREW THAT
I want reparations
AND a formal apology
No matter how mediocre it may seem!
and 40 acres and a mule just not enough for those uprooted
and forced by guns and was seized
Transported like sardines
and thrown overboard for the sharks to eat
The rest brought here to perform dirty deeds

Sold, bought, separated and hung by the noose
of the thought of running away
Illegal for me toeven learn 
so I fight for the children of today
By encouraging them not to become modern day slaves
and teaching them to take advantage of a system 
where some still deny that black is ok
Reminding them that change takes time 
But there's power in numbers 
So it's time to 
UNITE
© Humble B  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Next Isle Over

There I was.

Inside a crowded Toys R Us
On a mid-Winter’s evening

Abrasively loud 5 year olds
And depressed fathers
Ready to throw their “angelic” brethren
Into life-size Nerf basketball hoop
(Because it was on Clearance)
To embrace sanity’s madness

I was simply here to search for a porcelain doll
For my darling 8 year old angel
To match her serene complexion

But, toddler stomps & red-faced pouts
Equivalent to octaves of Hell’s 5th circle
Could not stop the strut that suddenly coated my foggy nerd glasses

There she was.

Her 5 foot, 10 inch majestic walk
Performing exorcisms on corrupted tile floors
With each
New
Step

My ear canals
Swimming in the serenity of
Her olive-coated curves
And violet-auburn shaded, shoulder-length curly locks

Left
Right
Left

Sensual witchcraft was placed upon my resilience
Chipped away by her Hazel ribboning pupils

My heart’s atrium, flat lining, with laughing hyena smile
Frozen by igloo’s revenge upon madness

“Excuse me, sir”, she vehemently moaned

(At least, in my head)

“Hi”, I expressed with pre-pubescent coarseness.

“I’m looking for a porcelain doll.
But, I’m a tad lost in this maze. 
Could you help me find my way?”, she whispered with demure smile

With my tongue pressed against seconds’ icy arm,
Locked for dear life,
I inhaled with Olympic stature

“It’s 9 isles this way. May I show you?”, I confidently declared on sanity’s edge.

With constellations aligned by blue moon signatures,
“Yes, please”.
 
As crux of evening’s audible stresses
Faded into final curtain’s epileptic sunset,
The winds of Yahweh curtailed all foggy affirmations
Into palms of bliss

Because
On this night
I proudly took the long route

Slow dancing with magnificent silence
To the isle
That was only 2 steps to our left

I believe we both discovered our porcelain dolls on this night.

©Drake J. Eszes

Premium Member Look Closely

Look closely,  feel the harmless heat 
enveloping black-diamond 
         petals in the glistening
            garden of glossy geraniums.
There, sprouts rosemary dreams
           from an untouched silhouette,
           eager to be seen beyond 
      her perfumed pigments. 

Her universe was sprinkled 
with starry streams 
of gleaming rays, 
as she swayed to symphonic 
serenades filled with hazel dust.
They may gawk with greedy 
glares as wide as the night sky,
marking her with lecherous 
objects that only please 
shameless eyes.

She was never 
in need of a sixth sense
to understand iron glances
that travel in nefarious packs,
with sugar-burnt hunger 
washing all over her
unblistered flesh,
judging her concealer 
as a manipulative facade,
seeking uncalled-for affirmations
that she never solicited,
misconceiving her thin lines 
of red-river lipstick.

Her summer physique allowed 
no consent for invasive intrusion,
yet carnal cravings become 
unwelcome toxic trespassers.

Their immoral thoughts 
believe shallow words 
give them wanderlust wings,
while sinister stars in their sky
label her a soulless mannequin,
objectifying her 
cinnamon-glazed skin,
sun-kissed hair, 
and pecan-powdered~
caramelized voluptuous flare,
with their vehement 
voracious desires.
Swinging penetrative thin blades 
of opinions from miles,
oblivious to the fact that 
she is the sanguine strength 
that strolls in silver silence 
across spiky swards,
suppressing the pain her 
bones have endured with 
every whiskering 
whistle they wolfed.
There, if the mauve moon and 
crystalline constellations look closely,
they would find versatile 
mirrors of meaning 
reflecting the times 
she parades a smile too
comfortable to wear,
for they have concluded 
her bed to be a shrine 
of blenders and
overflowing thickened blades,
cursed by the biological
sins of Adam's ancestors.

Premium Member Confidence 1309

“With confidence let success be vengeance for all that has happened to you.”  
                                                                                        ~~ The Poet ~~                                                
Courage to take on and achieve any task.
Ongoing resilience, you wont need a mask.                  
Never say can’t, always be willing to try.
Forge ahead to succeed, and you will always get by.
Initiate willpower to get each job done.                                                                                                                                          
Decide when you step to the plate, this will be a home run.    
Each miss is just practice for that big winning moment.                                     
Never doubt your ability, practice self atonement.
Congratulate yourself for doing your best.
Esteem is required to reach the summit of each quest.

Intend to do it well and you will.
Satisfy yourself it can be done better still.
  
Ask yourself if I you're ready to do your best, and wait til the answer is yes.

Simply the best isn’t impossible to achieve.
Tell yourself you can , all you have to do is believe.
Any time you dream of winning, it's possible to conceive.
Train your psyche to know ahead of time that you can do it.
Engulf yourself in the knowledge, that you will fly through it.

Offer yourself time to muster courage to face, head on any goal.
Forthright attempts made with body and soul.

Memorize affirmations that tell you to hold your head up high.
Instill a pride in yourself that you find you can live by.
New challenges will face you, attack each with determination.
Don’t wait for others to praise you, give yourself an excellent evaluation.
Form: Acrostic

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