Long Ambition Poems
Long Ambition Poems. Below are the most popular long Ambition by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ambition poems by poem length and keyword.
Ask the fingers holding
an aloof pen.
Ask, where its passion has gone,
ambition has fled.
The fingers will be still.
How...
the empty eyes will look
at the pale pages
yoked with numbers in black...
Then,
just observe...
how a curve widens on the face
as they gaze out of the window...
The far...the farthest!
Fast, it dies out.
A swarm of feelings from the heart's cavern,
pick up their last daring flight,
to die at last
of thirst
of love...
These eyes will never dream.
Words will never be welcome.
One day they will be dumb as stars,
And grey as time.
They'll give up the race,
race to superiority.
Cold the heart as ever,
will sleep in a colder body.
Frozen as dreams they were,
will leave the turbid eyes.
Will leave,
for the worms to delight
in a body so baked in plight!
And Time?
Will it mourn or joy?
That it could not find
the fragrance of a budding mind
before it too was damned.
Lost forever
in its quicksand...
I'm a simple guy,
I like video games, music and succeeding without trying,
So when a man comes up to me and tell me he can save my life,
Who am I to turn down a free book from a generous passerby,
Strange how after hundreds of Reddit articles I find these red words the most astounding,
Each verse saturated with a truth beyond my understanding,
I embraced the scripture in my new-found belief,
Ditching skeptics and scientific contention for a biblical motif,
So with my newfangled faith I embarked on a holy endeavor,
To sift through a lifetime of personal uncertainty to uncover the answer,
I found myself under bottomless pizza boxes,
Buying time stocks from the evolutionary clock,
Discovering purpose through glimmering game discs,
Fashioning polygonal personalities into personable obelisks,
Uncovering the depths of my psyche excavating mountains of dirty laundry,
Rinse on, dry off, purging both physical filth and emotional quandaries,
Sharing walkways with speeding cars enslaved to a monetary duty I can't shirk
A journey of a thousand steps every pilgrimage to work,
My blood a bubbling brew of ambition and potential,
Yet required to surpass insurmountable credentials,
Ignoring the marked symbols in newspapers they seek to brand on my forehead,
Subjective opinions of civility and idealism dropped on me like warheads,
Cryptic predictions of personality and fate,
You think I need a dice roll to determine if I'm straight?
Countless evaluations to rationalize the psyche and soul combined,
What makes their opinion more viable than mine?
I'm taking buoyant steps upon the swamp to reach my destination,
Swapping carnality for divinity to achieve the ultimate self-preservation,
Cremating my mortality I seek to ascend,
Past primitive understanding of a purpose I cannot comprehend,
This road we walk is coated with trip-wire and paved with scorching coals,
Watch out for those flaming hours in your 5-day forecast so find the nearest foxhole,
The burden on our shoulders has already been lifted so there's no reason for us to be aching,
We're on the path to eternal salvation why aren't we skipping?
So why don't you tag along with me on this self-realization odyssey,
I can't promise explosions or tentacle-headed aliens but I know it'll at least be interesting,
Just you, yourself, me and I,
The most dynamic duo to ever breach the sky.
He plays the chords with his blue depression
still searching for true loves heart expression
Though there is praise for this worlds celebrity
true satisfaction from there will never be
There those extol the merits of your voice
or the fantasy of ones visionary choice
ones merit to run with company so grand
or be courtesan to the leader of the band
Can such a person ever truly see
be freed from the snares of this society
reject philosophy and understanding realize
seek for all the truth and for its prize
The concept of purity can he ever hold
reject the hype that these teachings sold
escape the prison of pride and vanity
the pursuits of the world and its insanity
All of these issues we have had to face
the system is designed for humanities disgrace
liquids full of poison forced ingestion sup
the table of corruption with its broken cup
Oh how the gold of vanity has shined
and its thought adulterated and unrefined
the glitter of those lies have truth polluted
with the leaven of the religions instituted
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Gal 5
19 The works of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; 20idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions 21 and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.
22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. 24 Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. 25 Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.
Rev 22
12 “Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done. 13 I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.
14 “Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life and may go through the gates into the city. 15 Outside are the dogs, those who practice magic arts, the sexually immoral, the murderers, the idolaters and everyone who loves and practices falsehood.
The mind is a womb
Copulate it
Let the semen of reason
Part the legs of its cervix
And you will see
When moth struggles before its born
The power of its dreams for flight
Words are eggs, you know
Virginal eggs,
I saw him hatch them into bricks
Of ideas that he could carve
Like an Edna exhibit
All copulation must spontaneous
A true gentleman has that gift
Not to force his feelings
On his betrothed
He was also scholar, you know
A sort of poet
That prefer metaphors to the conflict
Of chisel and wood
He had such a mastery of the rhetoric
I mean he understood them better than us
For he did not only speak like them
But spoke their strategy better than them
I sometimes wondered how he knew himself
Apart.
Its sort of seemed ironic
That he did have the anger that Fanon composed
Unless wit is a subtle part of it
May be environment is such a part of it
The cool, I mean
We say that about Manchesterians
Roxborough,
If it could produce the soldier-scholar
Could not have produced just a little fire
Even for the cremation of his brother, Roy
Perhaps it was the mix blood ...
Busta said that his mother was Taino
I do not understand is who mixed them though
There is an overt statement of force to be made
A rape scrubbed from the memory
For how could one half of hm
Become so invisible ...
The mission I mean.
I must rule
More than wood, and more
Than water
For my destiny
Is more than what men may leech
So I am not exploited
I am killed for this robbery
And here I am left
A dead man on a throne
Here I am
Shrouded with self government
And staring into the empty eyes
Of children
So why do I love him then
Was it alone because my father
Fashioned my world for me
Gave me this icon
For proximity the barbarians
Who snatched my mother
Washing her white linen one day
From the sweet river
Do not take that thought to the bank
Where my children play
This man deserves his accolade
If only for taking blindness from my mind
If only for letting me know
The chain had never rattled their
And even in their own words
I could look at the world
And ask "why not?"
He gave me a ladder to my education
That was some gift,
Quite the best of all I am given
O it so beautiful to copulate the mind
Or hold hands through the annals
And see this Manley,
This little fountain of great ambition
Flowing at my lips.
Run Bacon run, the sound come echoing from the gun, run bacon run there is nothing to fear hold on to the third and the fifth gear. The oil is in the hip, grease your joints before you take that dip.
Meringue and carhop is no match for the crown. His body is on fire, and his passion is rolling with desire. The cow is on heat and the miracle is underneath my feet. He is running around in the sty so come catch the bull before it dies; the herd is waiting at the crossing with guitar and drums getting ready for that final home run.
Run bacon run, tie up your belly and run, take off your socks and shoes and anchor your feet in the ground before the mid-day news. Take up your baggage and run before you hear the final gun.
They are no match for your ingenuity, your originality and your brevity the crowd is pressing on with courage, ambition and perseverance but the dictator is hiding in the room and you have to remove him before noon.
Run bacon run the race is not yet done, this weekend promises to be fun if you stay in your lane and follow your gut feeling. You have got to know how to roll the dice and you got to know how to run on ice, you must keep your feet firm on the ground and follow the beam on the screen.
Run bacon run, you have three more laps before it’s done, the universe is watching you, and the crowd is patronizing you.Run bacon run, and take control of the track, the president and prime-ministers are in the stands, they are tossing money and playing lot, and way up in the gallery the Saudi dignitaries are getting jittery and the referees are moving around the field taking notes and observing the “goats”. They have thrown a lot of money in this race and anxiety is swelling in their face but they were not in a hurry, for the estimated glory.
Beacon is turning the corner and the crowd is roaring louder, bacon is getting is on the home stretch and it is pulling away in depth. The eastern stand is on fire and it is dancing with pleasure while the northern stand is cruising with the breeze and water is dripping from their knees, they are also on fire.
The western stand is burning with desire and the bacon has just crossed the finishing line in a striking distance of more than fifty meters. I have got to take the bacon home to cool down this internal fire, and give the niceties their final desire.
Run Beacon run!
~ (~) The journey towards home, yes quiet the tender longing, my soul, weary, inside inside-
out in between outside all about;
given the struggle, attention... being and remaining always seemingly to be quiet-and quite
the insidious, aspiration, perfection, whereas it would lie finally;
it stands-for-me-to be-yet-incomplete... yet and still forever-transfixed;
my peace, the simple fulfillment humble fruit, gentle blessing of this hope. (~) ~
~ (~) Such it is this journey for me, struggle... greatest-ambition... my joy full and
overflowing in the day of its fruition. (~) ~
~ (~) Just like a diamond in the rough glistening-there-lying in the snowdrops; given the
honest exclusions of my soul at-times covertly divided absent-growing-evermore-futile the
original vision of it I feel now, request far more... ! (~) ~
~ (~) Love I believe forever providing abiding beside the truth telling overtly of this —
conjured up all the remnants of fallacies-as-they-are I've-come-to-see will always try to keep
the heart mind in complete denial — as grace is the only hope as well I believe delighting
thriving there amid the-space-between... . (~) ~
~ (~) For all of us, mercy, these simple treasures are-what I pray do-remain, I mean imagine
if it were the-day-that-they-wouldn't-care-to-be — oh I know yes the quiet-separation, perfect
longing, confusion-within — oh-God yes Heaven-forbid... ! (~) ~
~ (~) I mean brogue-down beaten up-chartreuse black purple handed down to me my face...
grappling-I'm not yet crippled my soul lay opened amenable amendable-willing-now-desiring
only for this one-conviction the charity of-your Mercy... .. (~) ~
~ (~) Touched by this I was also though back in the day though nary I know the way it went
my joy it left me in my hate... . (~) ~
~ (~) Consumed I became like an angry wind by someone something else, but I too believe
as well and consider it today to be ultimately by the allowance of the merciful outstretched
hand of God... .. duly abiding-by-His-word, in-Faith... .. (~) ~
~ (~) And so I offer this one exclamation to Him hoping for nothing greater or less than this
result as I say for-another-time; "Okay God, you have my attention now, I am listening... !"
(~) ~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4wojcSO9Ww&feature=related
I stand on the highway of hope getting ready for the train to go on a trip to the mountain sphere, the passengers are pouring in, the seats are filling up, and everyone is in a mad rush. What on earth is going on? The passengers have been here before the break of dawn and excitement is all over the lawn. The cities and towns are flooded with lights and everyone has made an early sacrifice, smiles and laughter are everywhere and the people have nothing to fear. The highway of hope is taking me to the show, you can get an all-inclusive ticket wherever you go; you have a ticket for the train ride, the theatre, restaurant, cinema, the football games or just to go jogging up the lane. You have tickets to go shopping or to work out at the gym; there is a bus and a train for everything and there is one reserved only for music, singing and dancing. You can ride the bus or train any time of the day and your mornings and evening will never waste away, every ticket you buy will contribute to the blue sky and your donations will not die. Meet me at the highway of hope and I will show you where to go, the mood has change and joy is spreading everywhere. If you have nothing to do, put some snack in a bag and join the picnic train, and view all the terrain. The goal is to make a million in an hour and leave the sorrows in the showers. You will have something formidable to look forward to at the end of the day and your burdens and stress will surely roll away. Come with me to the highway of hope and join, the campaign fundraising train .Every ticket you buy will raise my ambition; every train you ride will elevate you to the sky, the numbers are growing and the passengers are swelling and my life has just begun. I have five-dollar tickets, ten-dollar ticket, a thousand- dollar tickets and any money tickets. There is a bus and train for every price and someone to show you how to roll the dice. If you don’t want to ride the train, the bus will do the same; a hundred bus and a hundred train is parked up on the highway of hope in every state so buy your tickets and join the masquerade. The goal is to make a hundred and fifty million dollars a day in the all inclusive bus and train ride on the highway of hope in all the fifty states so join the fundraising effort before it's too late.
Meet me on the highway of hope anytime of the day and don't delay.
How many grave sites should be prepared for me?
Just one. For Robert Johnson, there were three,
all in the Mississippi Delta: Morgan City, Quito,
and (near) Greenwood. Which is right? Do we KNOW?
Those who have taken the time to do research
believe Little Zion Missionary Baptist Church
near Greenwood is most likely. At age 27, in 1938,
he died near that town--so young, with talent so great.
In the early 1900’s, this youngster’s genius was unfurled.
As blues singer, guitarist, and lyricist, he gifted the world
with recordings exhibiting style that has been admired
widely and emulated by popular performers who aspired
to greater fame. They achieved the kudos they desired.
Muddy Waters, Bob Dylan, and Chuck Berry are among those
influenced by his style. Every admirer who knows
the legend that ambition drove Johnson to sell his soul
to the Devil for greater talent would surely say his goal
was reached without Old Scratch playing a role.
What caused the death of the “Cross Road Blues”
and “Sweet Home Chicago” performer? There are clues
centering around his unbridled boozing and womanizing.
Did a jealous husband poison his whiskey upon realizing
a flirtation or worse, just as Johnson's star was rising?
Or did he die of syphilis? These stories floated around,
and others. Thirty years later, a death certificate was found,
stating no cause of death. Some facts, we may never know.
It IS known that this musical master's climb to fame was slow.
It's nothing new that, after death, renown may grow.
Johnson's posthumous claim to fame is no big mystery.
Beginning in the nineteen sixties, the world would see
a surge of interest in his music. To Eric Clapton, he seems
"The most important blues singer that ever lived." Teams
of researchers have tried to capture his life and dreams.
King of the Delta Blues Singers, a collection of his best,
was produced by Columbia in 1961. Writers faced a test:
dealing with conflicts and gaps in accounts while collecting
information for biographies and films. While "connecting
the dots," they learned that sources require dissecting.
Death, no respecter of talent or youth, is bold,
stalking and striking down rich or poor, young or old.
Mysteries of life and death often remain unsolved,
though diligent research may be involved.
Bath City football club is an embarrassment to Bath
Most people ain't heard of them the ones who have laugh
Their aim and ambition is to be what they are
And that's like dreaming you're a broken down car
The fixture list came and it says you take part
So you push that car around the track from the start
Their desire is to exist with no plan to go far
They don't have the fire they don't have the heart
We don't show support when it all looks a farce
Don't we deserve something better than this
In good old Bath City where only rugby exists
Football can rot because rugby's the wish
absolute bollocks it's bollocks it is
Lacking intelligence in this rugby territory
it's like they see football the ultimate enemy
Scared of its presence and what it might do
A city with one club yet big enough for two
Our Uni makes athletes Olympian Gold
Bath Rugby competes while the football's on hold
There is a demand, no there's not we get told
"Football's not our game it's just not our mould"
I know Sir James Dyson is a man made in Bath
we're all proud of that, those Hoovers are bad
I say that as slang, his old bosses are mad
They rejected his hoover, how dumb and how daft
Now with your mass fortune beyond simple maths
You can now do what nobody else ever has
Invest in Bath City and put them on the map
You'll be a hero and they won't be crap
Potential so blatant will finally grow
and with it our pride, a pride never known
fill up the stadium with a reason to go
and fans will keep coming if there is a show
The community will bond as it responds to events
when you create dreams the present prevents
those magical days when the cup brings giants
a promotion or two through your generous expense
there's so much potential, they so under achieve
it wouldn't take much for that club to succeed
giving thousands of locals dreams hope and belief
It's you Sir James Dyson can gift what we need
It'll take off like your Hoovers but the football won't suck
with your big fat fortune it won't cost you a buck
it's a bigger football club than we know but its stuck
and it's about our community, it's a gift of good luck
invest in Bath City and the best is to come,
you'll go down in history as the one champion
who did the one thing that nobody had done,
go on mate please it's a job that sounds fun
James --
Over the last few months, we've seen something remarkable:
From the Women's March to airports across the country where communities are welcoming immigrants and refugees to town hall meetings in every community, Americans are speaking out like never before.
I believe more fiercely than ever that citizen engagement at every level is central to a strong and vibrant democracy.
To support this wave of grassroots organizing, we're launching Onward Together, an organization dedicated to advancing the progressive vision that earned nearly 66 million votes in the last election. Onward Together will work to build a brighter future for generations to come by supporting groups that encourage people to organize and run for office. I'm so grateful to everyone who has reached out to say that you're still fighting for the values we share. Will you add your name to let me know you're with us?
Since November, I've been doing my fair share of reflecting, spending time with friends and family -- and yes, going for long walks in the woods.
I've been particularly inspired by everyone who has stepped up to lead in this crucial moment for our country, and so I'm proud to announce Onward Together is beginning by supporting five groups leading the way.
At Swing Left, experts from the tech, media, finance, nonprofit, and arts industries are working to take back the House in 2018 by mobilizing volunteers in swing districts, where votes will count the most. The team at Emerge America has doubled down on finding, inspiring, and training their most diverse slate of Democratic women yet to run for office and start to close the political ambition gap. With more than one million members, Color Of Change leads national accountability campaigns to fight for criminal justice reform, voter freedom, fairness and accuracy in the media, and other critical issues of racial justice. Hundreds of thousands of people have made their voices heard thanks to Indivisible, an effort led by former Congressional staffers who are using their expertise to help ordinary people reach their members of Congress. And since two former campaigners announced the creation of Run for Something on Inauguration Day, more than 9,000 young people have signed up to run for local office to make real change in their own communities.
Onward!
Hillary
Some great ideas.
Form: