Long Allowing Poems
Long Allowing Poems. Below are the most popular long Allowing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Allowing poems by poem length and keyword.
A tiny black wood tick
jumps from the tall grass onto
my ankle, past my sock, and
Crawls up stealthily and silently
up my left leg. Luckily,
my leg is super sensitive to its little feet.
The leg brain alerts the aware brain, and
I look down, spying her instantly.
I catch her on her way up, squash her
into the center of a tissue,
and toss her into the garbage can.
I feel smug, that I got her before she
could latch on, burying her head inside my skin.
I am the victor, here.
The champ.
The detective.
The one who did not get bit.
I wish my scalp
And my back
Were half as sensitive as my legs.
They have let me down time
and time again this summer,
allowing these annoying critters free reign
on their tasty free range.
And what help is my husband?
I don't LIKE wood ticks, he whines.
And he thinks I do?
My passion is writing poetry
that challenges my muse and energizes my mind,
allowing me to pen my thoughts and feelings freely.
I use words like a carpenter might use wood;
molding and refining each verse
until it fits just right.
As the essence of my existence
gets transcribed onto blank pages
my imagination dons wings: to fly above reality,
and flutter like a butterfly on the winds of time.
For me, there is no greater satisfaction
than having touched someone's soul through my words.
Between the lines: in every poem that I write,
I offer a glimpse of my heart and a peek into my soul.
My poetry is not just about meter, syllables, or rhymes,
they're merely the tools I use: to sculpt a mental image,
that I endeavor to share with my readers.
I strive to be both clear
and distinctive as I can be,
while transforming my feelings into poetry.
I see nothing till I do,
I start as a feeling,
Building up in your throat,
Tracing the lines of the inner most parts of your soul.
My vision is always warped,
As though I were looking forward with a thin vale over my eyes,
Every shape is round,
Nothing sharp or ridged,
But instead all is obfuscated.
I lay dormant for days,
Weeks,
Months,
Maybe even years,
But I come back just as nimbly as I left.
I stay with one women,
She uses me more than I would like,
Everyday it feels as though I am abruptly taken ahold of,
Throttled and squeezed,
Then there is nothing left.
I feel her calling me again,
This time it is subtle,
More incubuses than before,
She must be hurt,
That is what I think,
She must be broken,
Bleeding out somewhere angrily dark,
She could be dying,
That must be why this time the hold on me is soft,
Almost reverent,
Like a lover’s touch.
So she must be dying,
For what other reason would she be this way?
When my vision does come it is unclear,
As it always is,
I find myself catching in the folds of the woman’s face,
At first I flow down her lashes,
Then I drip along the most intimate places of her face,
Sometimes I even manage to end up running along the dryness of her lips.
From what I can tell though,
This women is not dying,
She is just hurt,
In a different way,
Then I expected.
Through the cloudiness,
I see two of her,
They are inverted,
One of them,
Seems wrong.
More cruel,
Maybe a bit too honest,
So it is no surprise,
That she turns away from it,
To look at something more,
Ideal.
The ball in the sky,
Makes it harder for me,
To see her,
As well with the flicker,
Of flames.
But then the women,
She stops,
And I feel myself leaving,
I feel how I soak up,
How I dry out,
For the women,
Has none of me left.
But before I disappear,
The fogginess leaves,
Allowing me to see her,
For what she really is.
And with the shapes now,
All align,
I can see her,
She is just as I thought,
Yes,
She is indeed beautiful.
A DOOR TO THE SOUL
I say, enough of this superficial world
Being so full of nothing, I am replete
That collective gasp when a flag is unfurled
With such artifice I will never compete
As all such false emotions around me whirled
Yet it is so strong, do I admit defeat
National pride has to be earned, not expected
Despite tears, there’s cynicism detected
Yes, there’s a place for all that formality stuff
Yet, sharing true emotion needs encouraging
To do this openly, one needs to be tough
And such an outpouring does need managing
Genuine feelings are diamonds in the rough
The sense of freedom beyond imagining
Allowing greater personal expression
Can be the best antidote to repression
We become empty and void like vast space,
aided by bliss mists that suffuse our form
and there remain no tests, we need to ace,
as we’re cradled by divine currents warm.
Mind-body a vessel, in which dwells soul,
which first descends, before upward ascent
but to fulfil thus its ordained life role,
it must first and foremost, grant love consent.
Opposites dissolve when love’s manifest
and cravings of lower mind too recede,
whereupon we breeze through life in light jest,
allowing bliss beat pulsations to lead.
Flame of innocence in our heart aglow,
breath by breath we rise, in staid stillness slow.
Breath by breath we rise, in staid stillness slow,
witnessed by presence, with a tranquil eye,
as shedding resistance we gently flow,
observing false ego wither and die.
We alone witness our transmutation,
near and dear ones remaining unaware
of our soul’s divine entwined flirtation
and though we wish to share, no one can pair.
Our stance is stillness, in silence we burn,
feeling hidden nodes within come alive
and truths transcending mind, in time we learn,
as deeper and deeper in bliss we dive.
We write on, although we cannot translate,
sublime bliss rapture that does not abate.
Sublime bliss rapture that does not abate,
reverberates within by day and night,
asking but of us to keep our heart chaste,
whilst teleporting us to zenith height.
Synced with vibrations of the universe,
delighting in each offered sensation,
essence of presence sings a joyous verse,
as our spontaneous meditation.
Illumined within, is our central vein,
being both immanent and transcendent,
at the centre of which, heart free from stain,
radiates our inner light resplendent.
With no goals to chase nor puzzles to lace,
we become empty and void like vast space.
Beloved New Day Dawn
The sun has risen the night has flown. All but yet we acknowledge are in action are sometimes in a state of being
Stagnated I myself lack of growth was receding and development lingering procrastination of my goals. Flowing slownessly aimlessly stuck. In of not doing anything. Now He's my Father everything changed my mindset. To make things happen instead of waiting and non-reacting. All while awaiting the nudging of the higher call. I must proceed Within Me I stick I stuck myself allowing God to get me moving. I said I stand I walk now I'm walking in a new mindset I'm active and my development. Yet out of inactiveness now I'm moving toward my inside out if I am not careful I can become stagnant Spiritually but I'm delivered not to be alert in what God is doing around me. Uncertainty avoidance fear of making mistakes indecisiveness I draw on His love His power within the strong tower. I am actively not being inactive I'm walking, walking in Him further now
I must...
~Do not conform to the patterns of this world, to be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is His good pleasing and perfect will
~He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ
~The way of the lazy man is like a hedge of thorns, but the way of the upright is a Highway
Before the future even now tween heaven while now here on terrane earth. I want to be on His Holy Highway traveling on
the Bible the gospel, Leads us to Jesus
I'm walking unto Him
Jesus paid the price for me, now I am free
HALLELUJAH! AMEN!
11/3/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Referencing
Romans 12:2
Philippians 1:6
Proverbs 15:19
Core of consciousness
Self aware awareness
Absorbed in the flow of attention
In enabled spectrum of vibration
Wherein we are alive & present
Through mind & body cognisant
There are three frequency bands
In the continuum where we stand
Satva & Rajas & Tamas
Orbit of attention therein continuous
So unless we choose to focus
Reflex instinct determines our locus
As we shift through waking & dreaming
Deep sleep and Turiya whilst meditating
We recognise that it is our innate priority
Which determines attention flow affinity
It being thus the consciousness fulcrum
Deciding flow of our attention pendulum
There being no instant remedy
To get to the Satvik frequency
Save continuous contemplative correction
Making our orientation unbroken meditation
Surrendering to the divine by simply allowing
Imbibing rapturous bliss within electrifying
The non-doer doing we do is to simply align
With the subtle pulsations of the divine
As we weed out gross ferality layer by layer
Stilling our being in earnest & fervent prayer
Seeking nothing save unbroken connection
That attention resonates with the Ohm vibration
Boundaries blur between form & formlessness
As subject & object merge the field is oneness
04-August-2020
Questions of doom averted.
new sound waves crash under morning meditation.
Searching for the words of God in subway mix tapes and under coffee shop tables.
Allowing my mind to wander to distant lands of ancient Empty graves.
Sparrows sing each new day a song of praise to God.
Dogs bark in the distance as I hear Jon talking with Mindy
Thirsting for living water I seek Yeshua Christ known as God made Flesh.
Clocks tick and water drips as my coffee gets cold.
Sleep escaped me last night and now a new day is here.
Lily is ever talking much today.
She can hear things Brian cannot like Jon and Mindy arguing in the distance through the open door.
September is soon beginning a time of in between times where summer is not fully over yet fall has not truly started.
two thousand and twenty six years since Yeshua was born
troubling sounds outside I do not like to hear.
September eleventh is the highest watch day of the year for a possible rapture.
If the Rapture happens this year Turn to Jesus before it is too late.
The book describes a battle that included African American soldiers in the Union army who, in spite of the controversy, were very instrumental in the success of building a tunnel and igniting a massive explosion that proved strategic in a major victory against the Confederate army.
Our lives are often presented with adversities and challenges that will shake the foundations on which we were built. However, if we remain focused, enriching winds of courage will blow our way in many forms. I experienced such enrichment when I read the novel, The Battle of The Crater, by Newt Gingrich and William R. Forstchen. I was able to draw from this novel three important lessons that strengthened and reinforced my entire belief system about the civil war in America.
Lesson #1. Facts and truths can be delayed, denied and revised, contrived, or even covered up and ignored. However, truth can blaze its own trail through a stormy wilderness of lies, more lies, and distortions. Truth, in essence, is Divine and even if tosed to the bottom of the sea, it will not die but resurface.
Lesson#2. The powers that be may often abuse their authority, allowing personal vendettas to ruin their command. But such powers cannot stand on their own crumbling feet and therefore will implode. Without regard for recognition, nor for what others do, I am to always put my best foot forward when the opportunity arises.
Lesson#3. In the final analysis, it is God and not men who get to decide what to put in and what to leave out. God, not men, has the final word on 'rights and wrongs', and He determines who is on the right side of history. After all, God Himself defines and records not just the facts but determines the true meaning of history. After all, History is really HIS STORY.
02102018FBMTPS Contest, Life Lesson From A Favorite Novel, Line Gauthier; 3P; Novel, The Battle of The Crater, by Newt Gingrich and William R.Forstchen
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