Long Agreement Poems
Long Agreement Poems. Below are the most popular long Agreement by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Agreement poems by poem length and keyword.
Dreaming shows you many hidden things in your mind; it opens you to alternative thinking…
What are friends? Are friends someone you can trust? What is trust? What is trusting? I've always asked myself this, but never really answered it... Friends are always something I have struggled with.
How does someone become your friend? Is it an unspoken thing? A mutual agreement? A strive to be popular? Or is it a feeling that everyone has?
Throughout my elementary years I had 6 friends. Brandon, Mattia, Isaac, Matthew, and 2 girls, Emily and Sydney. When I hit 5th grade, Isaac, who was my best friend, moved away.
I had one big problem, people who I saw as friends, weren't really friends. There were a lot of things said behind my back and people would use me as a fall guy.
Onto my dream...
My dreams as a kid, before I trained myself to lucidly dream, were, as far as I knew, real. And to be honest, for the most part I don't know what was a dream and what wasn't...
I remember the new "cool" game to play was ZAP... If you don't know what zap is it is pretty much you put a name on a hand and a time and they can't look at it until that time or they must ask them out. This also happened to be the time the term "gay" had hit my school, so I had a guys name written on my hand. So once I found out what it was I went and washed it all off. so as we went back in class everyone who fell to peer pressure which was pretty much everyone but me got in trouble.
Now I told the teacher I had it at one time but I washed it off at lunch because Iw anted to be honest.... She just said that was the right thing to do.... But everyone started laughing at my calling me gay and such because it was a guys name... So when asked who satarted it someone said ask the gay kid.... Well of course I got blamed with it so I was sent to the principal with not one, but two reasons to be in trouble... I woke... got ready for school, and as I was getting to school guess what I saw? A new friend, and its name was Zap.....
What is a true friend? Is it someone who will stand for you? Someone who is always there? Do you have a true friend? Do you trust that person? Now answer that again, do you really? Ask yourself a third time, how do you really know they are your friend?
P.S. Thank you all for all the support, I have really appreciated all the positive feedback on my work... Jarrod D.~
"Bat Crazy 5"
Some say
she was batsh** crazy
life hits the windscreens
in the labyrinth of life
that way
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
an upwards inflection, “You know”,
in the Queen’s Land, "all under control"
the open palm under the shaft
moving all the way up to 5,
reflecting on the mirror rearview
she watches the eyes
of her child
dreaming of open highways
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
never once moving from 5
the left all the way up to targa 5
right hand up on the wheel
left hand down right up to 5
windows spitting emeralds
like a baphomet
the two finger salute
the other above so below
watches on
"here we go again",
the 1 above it all
watches on
as above so below
that 1's long-suffering
that way, aghast, but resolute,
that 1 has never-ending reserves
of eternal patience
and watches on
perplexed
her mind geared on
how to kill off
a spider
and his sister, next
changing lanes
easier said than done
when you're hell-bent on
Freedom
the highway sign
Happy New Year
flashes ever onwards by,
foot to the floor
left brain baffled
at forgiveness
at Christmas
long gone by
right hand on the wheel
left hand down
open palmed
shifting gears
accelerating increduality
towards the accuracy
in the justice of karma
drivers sitting on both shoulders
inside the vehicle
holding the wheel
the internal speaks
to the universe
listening
for kindness
and answers
on a lost highway
Blue Sky
nods, as if in agreement,
that 1's always amused -
but never confused, that way
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“Is it possible to switch dimensions?
There is currently no conceivable way to get to these if they exist, and they may only be possible, not actual. To travel between realities, they need to be in proximity. To be in proximity and not interact, they need to be incompatible. If it is a compatible universe you could travel to, it is already here.”
"Won’t you let me know,
if you made it home that night
Oh won’t you let me know
If our bones made it home alright..."
- continued from Part 2
I Am Making More Profits
Than An Open Window Can Scope!
But More Importantly
Than Any Viable Earnings Can Invoke …
Lovely … I Am Sending Valuable-Love
… Inside This Envelope
(Isa. 54: 11, 12)
Yes, Lovely … You Are My Amethysts & Rubies
and Sapphires and Silver and Gold
and I Am The Richest Person Alive!
… If The Truth Be Told …
I Want You Ecstatically Happy
Now Surely, You Must Know
I Just Want To See Your Own
Luminous, Starry Eyes Aglow
… and Pour Drops of Soothing Oil
and Lavish-Anoint You – Head To Toe
and Smell Your Sweet, Pure Perfume
Wafting Like Incense To My Nose …
And Hold You In My Arms
and Never Let You Go
My Lovely One, I’ll Be With You Soon
Because I Love You So …
My Lovely One, You Know Me
To Be A Lover of Honor, Most Honest
The Length Between Us Is Loyal
and Getting Closer By The Moments
And You Have Your One-True-Lover’s
Word of Oath – On This (like Sacred-Sonnets)
And I Will Come For You, My Lovely One
… I Promise …
But The War Rages On
and Will Wage Worse Before Its Gone
But These Things I Have Told You
So You Have Always Known …
About Harsh Ways of The World
So Go Past Them, You Must Stay Strong
and True To Me ‘Til I Come
and Make Us A Brand New Home
(For To Me, Again – You’ll Belong
… Before Ere’ Too Long …
(Rev. 21: 3, 4)
But I Must Finish My Duty
and Complete My Timeline-Task
The Importance and Responsibility
For This Job Is Very Vast!
It’s For Our Future & To Make Sure
That We Will Always Last
and That No One Else Dare Repeat
Poisoned Mistakes From Prideful-Pasts
And After This … We’ll Never Again
Ungroup or Unclasp!
But Your Understanding & Agreement
Is Needed Now … That’s What I Ask …
Oh, Let My Words Kindle
Your Starry Eyes Like Flames!
Let The Fire of My Ardor
& Pure Force, Course Thru Your Veins!
(The Song of Solomon 8: 6, 7)
And Let This Letter Draw You To Me
With Unbreakable Mettle Chains!
and If You Must Whisper and Weep
Just Softly Echo My Name …
(Remember, You Agreed To Wear My Name)
(Isa. 43: 7, 10, 11 / Acts 11: 26 / Rom. 10: 13)
Let This Letter Be My Lips
Speaking Forth Innocence
Let This Letter Be My Lips
and Each Word A Knowing Kiss
Let This Letter Be My Voice
Telling You How You’re Loved & Missed
For Soon, We Will Be Together
As If In Celestial Bliss
I Send This Letter So It Could
Act As Your Revival
I Sent This Letter So You Could
Know I Am Reliable
(Part 3 of 4)
...Then working with the government,
who always liked more western cash,
they set up an agreement that
they hoped could contain this backlash.
Two scientists could see the arc,
and work to verify its age,
one from Harvard, and one Cambridge,
and to Axum both made their way.
The American, an old man,
Professor Hammond was name,
the Brit was a young grad student,
named Alice, with a genius brain.
As they settled into their work
neither of the scholars could know
that in neighboring Somalia
an evil man plotted a blow.
He went by the name Ibrahim,
whether it was real, no one knew,
established as a terrorist,
an Islamist, quite tried and true.
He’d built a name in civil wars,
the kind that always racked that place,
made a reputation with force,
he left death, and people displaced.
And though the man gained followers,
he was frustrated by his land,
ruined and lacking resources,
Ibrahim was an ambitious man.
When he heard the arc had been found,
an idea grew up in his mind,
Christians and Jews worshipped the thing,
a route to more money he found.
He took with him one hundred men,
slipped the border, went to Axum,
keeping his people outside town
until shadows of nightfall had come.
Then they attacked St. Mary’s Church,
stormed the building with guns blazing,
killing priests, security guards,
anyone they found resisting.
Quickly they sieved the old relic,
took Alice, Hammond, and four priests,
hostages until they got paid,
at which point they {might" be released.
Chased by police they all fled east,
back into the Somali state,
where they hid amongst the chaos,
where all involved did celebrate.
A scheme pulled on the infidel,
they would now pay to arm their foe!
They had no choice, if they did not
then to hell their relic would go!
Ibrahim put out a message,
a video, as such types do,
demanding millions for the arc,
it was seen by more than a few.
And there was a bunch of chatter,
amongst talking heads on TV,
talking of how such a relic
just found, could soon be history.
Religious types the world over
spoke of how it would be a crime
if such a thing would be destroyed,
the loss of a wonderous find.
All knew some action would come soon,
too many folks were up in arms,
talk of commandos, and or raids,
to Ibrahim it raised alarms...
CONTINUES IN PART III.
Once our land stretched from coast to coast
and the drums of the people beat proud
we were mighty and we were strong
we were happy . . .
then the white came to our shores
they thought our land was theirs to take
they called it Canada
they brought disease unknown to us
when we fought for what was ours they killed us
and we killed to . . .
we were a savage people true and skilled at death
many of our chiefs were tricked to come in peace
many of our chiefs were hung . . .
they called this justice
the whites stole our land and our way of life
they massacred the buffalo and bear only for their fur
and left their rotting bodies and we wept for them
the ancestors of our people fly with the eagles
drifting and falling on the wind
their cry is our cry . . .
we were herded into reservations like cattle
starved into submission and left a broken people
and they called this justice
but in each of us burns a fire bright that can never die
in each of us is a strength and courage
a tranquility and serenity
we accept the past as the white acknowledge the wrongs
and the Prime Minister of Canada
is trying to say sorry
with tears he apologizes to the people for
the hangings
the killing of our people
the stealing of our land
the 1960 scoop of our children
the residential schools of abuse
the highway of tears that goes on and on
yet, the social injustice to the people is still present today
when they steal the land we have left
for pipelines, and other projects without our agreement
we want to keep our lands pristine for wildlife
we do not want polluted water where the fish die
some of us are living in third world conditions still
with no water, electricity, heat . . . still on reservations
so you tell me where the justice is . . .
I am just a girl of the here and now but
but I hear the drums of my ancestors beating
in my heart . . .
_____________________
April 1, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/They Call This Social Justice
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1009-383-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Social Justice
sponsor, John Hamilton
First Place
Heartfelt light… falls gentle on my dew drenched silence,
When moon is fading beneath the silent blessings,
Raining through the moments, healing with soft expressions
Moments alive with the flames of joy kindled to birth,
Praying into the depths of grace, with faith beyond imagining,
Faith that is the greatest thing since the angelic wings…
Embracing souls with a deep and everlasting peace, serenity
Warm like autumn’s crimson chuckle with its own brand of rustling
From the songs who glisten with the stars, leafy answers
To the wind’s distress – the feeling like a flavor of tempting sincerity,
The abiding of truth in the glowing embers of an emotional storm…
One who delights in the flavors of stardust shimmers, reflecting
Hearts and souls, intimate as the darkness’ ghost – whimsical and fearless,
Listening to the rude remarks of pines and laurels who lust for glowing
Grace, enchanting as deep sapphire skies who breathe through
Twilight dreams, stunning as the fires from September camping like
Endless stories, the ones who never end because the last page
Is the most beautiful amen, the agreement to abide in the pleasant
Yes, indeed… amen to the moments when hope is extracted
From the fears and there is only the evidence of gentle in soul felt tears
Blessing away the rusty realization, the caress of an imagination
When yesterday was the peace, both quiet and bold…
Expressing the music gesturing through the melancholy,
Blending with rhythms of dancing leaves, the season’s abundance
Blessings, corn and apples, pumpkins in bold ginger
Expressions of the harvest collected by the moments in burgundy
Hazy moments, crisp and cool morning rising with the beautiful
More inspiring than the wonders of a summer’s soft kiss,
Chasing the winds of grace, like laughter in the soul, growing kinder
As the moments pass, outshining the moon’s glow and the spring’s show
Flowery and stunning, beyond words – yes, autumn rises
Inside those who know her as the exalting treasure she has become.
Hallowing the ghostlike promise of yesterday’s mesmerizing
The magnificent silence of God’s blessed peppering …
Spice of the season who is forever more wonderful than poetry
Could possibly portray, more like the spell cast by hope
Who knows that His love, His love is poured out on Autumn’s soul
It begins at home
even closer: it begins "I"nside
I have forgiven failures, failing in faith, inside me
Have you? Until you do, it is almost too hard
To forgive your imperfect parent, and therefore Father-in-Heaven
Lest it seems, I speak ordinary, old, old-fashioned sermon or speech
"Remember Mandela, South Africa, TRC? I was there!"
While billions only speak it, I have to live it
I did not want to; Mandela (OUR BELOVED MADIBA) made it policy
In the bad old South Africa, poisoned by a white Minority, 300 years
Still wanting NOT to share anything today; but we must for ourselves
And for Jesus (or for Mandela, or for Gandhi: both graced South Africa)
Yes, I have grown to love Forgiveness and Reconciliation in my heart
There it must begin, or it cannot come out into this bloody world
From the blood pump inside you, pure Jesus lineage can overflow
Once the mind and heart come into agreement, concord, one accord
(That's what happened at the Pentecost that birthed Christ's Church -
When the disciples, dreading death after Jesus's Crucifixion, locked doors
In the Upper Room, in Jerusalem, tarrying still: Fire in Holy Spirit fell!)
The Holy Spirit tells me to love like Jesus and Mother Theresa (now Saint)
Love till it hurts (and once hurt like that, NOTHING will ever hurt you & me)
I forgive because I see the forgiveness of Jesus (What does it mean? Sins?)
LOVE may begin in sin; but it flies with eagle wings, near the SON, forgiven
We reconcile with the Parent Above; who is really everywhere, doctrines do
not tell us all, only a start: God loved and offered reconciliation, but Truth
Demands we confess: I was a dirty, dastardly sinner, until He washed me
In the pure, precious blood of a Perfect Man, High-Priest after Melchizadek
So, dear brother and sister, I do not list sins to make you mad
That is only to assure YOU the Jesus way: Confess, Receive Grace, Live Free
TRC in RSA: TRUTH and Reconciliation (& Commission Under Archbishop Tutu)
Said anyone, white or black, who confessed their murders and sins
Would not be taken to court; only one was (Wouter Basson)
A whole nation forgave the white Minority under Mandela's mighty mandate
To Love and forgive like Jesus, for BIGGER things: like saving a country
From the kind of civil wars that rage on and on, fed by hate, all about US
The cold chambers of my mind
Lacks happiness and a sense of belonging – I’m feeling soar
Under the snow is where you’ll find me
For, I’m snowed under by your heartless remarks, giving me the impression that you
used to envy me possibly
Under the water is where you’ll see my body
You can’t save me from drowning, so don’t make me change my mind…I’ll do the
impossible and I’ll do the opposite of what you tell me to do – let me go…help me,
somebody!
I loved you, girl…you were my darling angel
My dreams are broken because you abandoned me…carelessly…tactlessly…we used to
lack hands like two grand lands in agreement with each other – we’re those lovers
embracing each other lovingly and without a care
I’m all alone…I’m all alone…without a care…
I’m on my own…I’m on my own…everyone starts to stare
Can you look the other way someday?
Am I that attractive to you all? I’m sorry – I don’t roll that way!
You lead me to another lane…you knew where you were driving
You knew the course from the start; now, we hit a dead end, still surviving…arriving
undone
You ran me over heartlessly
You knew that I’d meet my fatality
You injured me inside and out
You hurt me badly without a doubt
Condescendingly, you burned away one of my favorite times of my life
I did the same thing to you, except I gave you space to regret everything you have done
to me – making me victim to your sinister strife
No apologies accepted…all will be rejected
In the long run, you’ll feel infected…
You are gonna be that orphan, all alone without blankets to wrap yourself around in –
having no time to commit even one childlike crime
You marinate and engorge in your abominable sin…spiraling from deep within you – where
have you been? You were my faithful kin once upon a time
Let me whisper in your ears
About how many times you’ve neglected me – for many years
You didn’t even noticed I have wept a thousand tears or more…you never reflected upon
me like mirrors
Don’t freeze my heart with your malicious, merciless words – its sole purpose is to harm
than do any good
How did you view love? Like a game?
Didn’t you feel this shame without a shameless name?
Don’t strike me with your perilous love…stop making me feel pity!
Don’t play rough! Play fair and please don’t neglect me…
Please don't neglect me once more . . .
Freedom:
Tonight is the night I fill the sky
With pure scents of Jasmine and Anise
Tonight people shall rest in peace
For no one shall be a worthless spy
War:
Your dream shall never come true
You are nothing but a shadow on a wall
For you are always in the blue
Even lightning and thunder make you askew
You see, I am the energy people need
I am the one that waters the seed
Without me, the world is nothing
Without me, news will be boring
Freedom:
Ha! Is that what you think?
People treasure me deep within
For I am their twin
I am there writing ink
Haven’t you heard in what you call “news?”
How many repeat the words of “Freedom of speech?”
Behold those who chanted my name
Recording the pages of history
Celebrate not you treacherous monster!
For the people shall rejoice once more
War:
I shall never let you destroy what I have built!
Freedom shall never seep into my soldier’s heart!
For they have no wisdom to make them feel guilt
I shall always have smoke ready to start
Until I demolish the sky;
until I see it cry…
The world shall collapse, turning into dust!!
Damage, chaos, and WAR are a must!!!
Freedom:
Today, people might not see me
But, tomorrow everyone is going to be free
I shall plant unison in today’s children
I shall always whisper into their ears
Awaiting the day where I, Freedom, shall become your fear
The day where you shall turn into DUST!!!
A spell shall be cast to banish you away
Nightmares shall haunt you as you play
War:
Mommy!! You scared me!!!
Look out, Freedom is coming after me!!
HA! What you say is nothing but Fantasies
Fantasies that shall crush you when…
Screams are heard instead of laughter…
Bombing is heard instead of parties…
Thus, I advise you to wipe away every Hope within you
Come, join me, and we shall rule the world…
Freedom:
Never!! Your schemes shall never work on me!!
Enjoy what remains
For it is not more than the ticking of the clock
That shall wipe out your existence
Though War is one of the physical influences in our world,
People might be delightful mirrors from the outside
And an intruder with a gun deep inside
Never nod your head in agreement to one who seems kind
For in the end, the idea of a friend dies with the wind
Always stand up for yourself and do not Always agree on what it said
King Henry VIII and His Wives
By Elton Camp
When Henry’s brother was too young to care
He was made to wed a princess from over there
But you must do just what we say little fella,
Catherine's the child of Ferdinand and Isabella
Catherine had not been Queen for very long
When things with her mate went badly wrong
Medicine was weak. To save him, doctors tried
But despite all they did her young prince died
With Spain, England had a pact
The agreement must stay intact
Henry was then a child of eleven
Hardly a betrothal made in heaven
Henry married at age eighteen
And Catherine became his queen.
Though it is quite sad to have to tell
The queen’s babies didn’t fare well
To bring her husband true joy
She must give birth to a boy
She bore him just a single son
Who died before a year had run
Though married for twenty-four years,
Henry gave voice to his greatest fears
“I have married the wife of my brother
When I should have waited for another.”
But he said this with a sly grin
While he kissed Anne Boyeln
She refused to go to his bed
Until the two were set to wed
Anne produced a baby right away
But ‘twas a girl to Henry’s dismay.
He thought she had done a crime
When both babies died next time
“I’ve been down this road before.
It’s clear you are just a whore.”
No more shall you see my bed.
Rather, you will lose your head.
Jane Seymour was next on the list
So that Anne was scarcely missed
From Jane, virtuous and fair,
There came at last a male heir
Infection was the reason why
The queen proceeded to die
Henry at her death was distraught
But the new child filled his thought
Anne of Cleves was next to arrive
Had a problem, managed to survive.
Henry found he didn’t like her well
“This German woman is ugly as hell.”
The next queen to unfurl
Was just a teenage girl
Catherine Howard was her name
But she was not free from blame
Culpepper was her boyfriend
She had confessed at the end
And unlike the wives before
This one truly was a whore
Catherine Parr became wife six
She did not try to use any tricks
To her, duty came above
Even the man she did love
Of this bad background cannot be any doubt
It is how the Church of England came about.
Who of the people could expect to be a winner
By adhering to a religion formed by a sinner?