Long Anyhow Poems
Long Anyhow Poems. Below are the most popular long Anyhow by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Anyhow poems by poem length and keyword.
Life most certainly seems like it’s so easy to some people
And you may be right on, to something
That is, if you are looking at life as a, one period at a time, thing
But when you get the chance to add every period together
Then his life or hers, is not so different than yours
It’s just a matter of how we wear our differences
Life is a lot like the clothes we put on
And/or whether, if how we wear it, puts a smile on our faces
And how that same smile can be re-assimilated to other races
It’s all about reaching the best illusions of the truth
And the truth is…We can wear anything we want to
You and I, certainly earned our right to choose
We’ve inherited it
That is your gift
And your gift is the same as mine
But it is the same in a different way
Like how an art is different to another art form
Where every art is beautiful
Where every beautiful thing has its story
Where every story has a home in mind
And where every home is also where the heart wants to live
But I’m not talking about the heart that pumps blood in our veins
But the heart with its entire soul, unified in spirit
Like when you close your eyes, knowing full well God is in it
Like the most feasible conclusion to a punch line
Sometimes it doesn’t make sense but you get it anyhow
Because for some reason the joke made you to laugh
And your laughter makes someone else, to laugh
And all the sudden, you are a genius
All because you recognize the point to a period
And life gets reborn; that moment on
But seriously the joke is in you
And I mean that in the most constructive way
Because if you were to break that down to the tiniest piece
Life becomes all too small to miss
Or else we’re left just to reminisce
I suppose, that is, what it is, where it comes to the truth
We can only control what we can control
And we can only become who is already inside of us
And so, I thought we must all reach a point of acceptance
"This is who I am"
"This is who we are"
Individually "This is my world"
Together, “It’s ours universe”
There’s always a time to be picky and to be reserved
But now is definitely not one of those times
Because this moment, is your time to choose
As to which life to wear and what makeup to make up on
Where the best way to celebrate being, the same, is to make a difference to others
By:Wilbert E. Dela Cruz
Locked in the history through the doors of his mind
Are the remains of an unwritten contract he signed.
The rules he lived by with his own flesh and bone,
Wrote in his blood and signed alone.
An Indian father or a Spanish bride,
The white mans greed won’t alter his stride,
The black mans courage with endurance within,
Mixed with trials errors and mortal sin.
Through the hardship and horses through courage and pain
These are the hands that held the rein.
Annie Oakley, Kitty Wilkins and Bell Star,
Combined lace with leather and created a gender scar.
From Picket, Custer, and Crazy Horse,
These are only a few who would not alter their course.
And those less know on Oregon’s trail,
Who sold all they had and to the west set sail.
Chisholm, Goodnight and French, some of the Cattle kings,
They all are the reason a cowboy sings.
And their blood still flows through our veins,
These are the hands that held the rein.
Forgive them for they knew not what they done,
As they settled the west with hand and gun.
Fought for open space they went through,
Not knowing that greed and politics followed them too.
Restless by nature a curious kind,
Searching for answers they will never find.
An unwritten code he rides for the brand,
It pumps through the veins into the soul of this man.
He gathers those memories and tries to remain,
These are the hands that held the rein.
Writing no letter for he can’t but he would,
To who he’s not sure but it is understood,
There is no place to send it anyhow,
So he saddles his pony and rides for the cow,
Sings a song and says a poem in rhyme,
To cut the quiet and pass the time.
That helps keep the stories of his horse and life,
As he sings of a friend and dreams of a wife.
Through the doors of his mind those memories remain,
For these are the hands that held the rein.
Like shuffling a deck he’s held in his hand
He has gambled his life and made a stand,
And made a vow he will try to fulfill,
With the luck of the draw his blood flows still.
To the next generation, with changes in time,
We still hear his stories in song and rhyme.
And if one more day could be spare
For the songs sung and poems shared
Let him live just one more day,
Let him ride for the brand and draw his pay.
In our future let our history not be in vein,
For our hands are now what hold the rein.
Form:
CALIBER:
Burn out the news,
If you think of it being new.
The talk of what I've been through,
Doesn't appear as truth.
It's a risky deal for you.
I'm seeing it with few,
To be an unimaginable conceptualised deal.
Back in our younger days,
Where we just trap to efface.
Something I never accept to taste.
People call me lame of shame,
For I choose to be myself in the game.
Smoking, killing, robbing never my aim.
Wasn't part of reasons why I came.
I get a different plan all the same,
With my red eyes picturing my lane.
Impressing nobody, fear not to be sane.
Go ahead and shoot me Mr. Sake of fame.
What gets me stronger is an undying flame,
Unlimitedly causing magnificence,
Born out of intellectuality walled by faith.
This citation proves my legitimacy on slate.
As I stand by personal competence to be awake,
To clearly elaborate minds laid on await.
At the end we all will be clinged by conjugate.
And our spines will elevate,
Causing a tremendous change to propagate.
No suicide, fratracide would be in minds.
And every heart will show some kind,
Only for that goal to be held as one.
When the table serve some wine,
We then say a good deal is done.
But hold on some minute,
Maybe you're actually not getting it.
Well, Some also might be lost to think,
Especially those folks diregarding this.
This is a reality defining who I am.
I don't go contrary to the norm.
That's going wayward or doing wrong,
Because I don't forget where I'm from.
And I throw no stones to those who conform,
To the system that corrupts.
It's their choice,and I'm informed.
In my circle do I not stay common,
Assertively taking refuge in a dungeon,
Protected by Judah's Greatest Lion.
On him do I forever rely on.
My strength and happiness,
Sourced from his greatness.
Placing me at the top to be fearless.
What then could make my life baseless?
I'm brave and earnest.
Withstanding against pellets,
Discharged to cause breakdowns,
Against my life anyhow.
In fact, this is really detrimental.
Yet, I modify it willfully to be topical.
Funny how the narration goes,
I don't care about it though .
I stay keenly to achieve my goals..
Strictly do I hate to oppose.
And thank God my ambitions is not disclosed,
For my worth to be blemished the most.
Yes,I'm Anderson Walkingshoes!
I'm strong, determined and bold.
(Part 2 - please see Part 1 first thank you)
And those of us who feel just plain lost in today’s modern world
Believe me you are not alone
Might look at Dave’s life and think that it’s real, and legitimate
When it’s just a fake deal – none of this has just fallen in ‘Dave’s’ lap
Because he deserves it as he’s a ‘good lad’
But you don’t want to know this and it makes you feel even worse
Accusing others of being jealous and defending this ‘Dave’ first
So you massage your avatar in every way
Thinking it will pave your way
Save the day
Keep you out of real life’s harming ways
Because despite the visions of
Human contact on the Facebook adds
You never meet up with the lads,
Go bowling or hang out in the park
Because these days the world is just too dark
It’s not safe and too expensive to go out and have a lark
So you stay inside and become an online stud who gets lots of online ****
Who enjoys an open relationship?
But which in real life is just a lie
Because right now you are sat in a room, full of gloom
With your back to your wife
Atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a knife
As you massage your Facebook life
And now you cannot make it more plain
That she is just not good enough for the Facebook ‘you’
Who now believes he is a complete stud
But she’s lives in reality and not on line
Working hard, pays the bills, attends to the minutiae of real life
While you, 36 and unemployed, pines
And neither you, nor she, can ever measure up to the complete fantasy
Of the world of your Facebook Land
All Facebook has done is help you create a monster which has got out of hand
And you never did have that conversation, in real life, with your wife
That you have demoted her from your wife, to ‘f*ck buddy’
That’s just your online self massaging reality out of your life
Why communicate with your wife – it’s safer (to your online life)
To just cut her out – she’d never understand anyhow
But somehow you stay with her every day
Getting older, balder, and weaker as your life ebbs away
Never leaving the house or doing anything with your day
So what is the plan?
Do you face real life and make one of your own
Where you know where you are going and where you come from
A life at which you could really look
Why bother – there’s always Facebook.....
Anna Archichek
You know, it is rather difficult to discuss mental health
The simile of the racing thoughts is a swift flight
Swift, and Intrepid like an Arabian horse,
Sometimes, too hard to decipher, even.
I face the past,
and I talk.
and I keep talking about many, many issues
And you heard me there, silently.
Then, you whispered into my ears, “Un the lib.”
Did you utter the word, “Un the lib?”
Or, was it a call for another scapegoat,
with the name Andalib?
My understanding is getting clouded, and clouded enough.
Vulnerably, and abnormally.
But there is no problem.
Neighborhood concept runs into such difficulties, these days.
They are yawning and dribbling in so many places,
chilling effects...
With the metaphor of a prophetic narration
with so many broken chains, harder to trace even.
Understanding.
It whittles down to an empty bottle of pickles, decisively.
Never tried to forget “Un the lib” though,
Never tried too hard to break free, nonetheless.
Word abandons me along the way, cult of own whims too.
Let us come to the points,
Closer enough to the bullet points,
A poet’s life, bohemian, unpredictable
A very fine line to decipher between irrationality, insanity
Nothing more than this. Just this.
“Hallo, microphone testing, one, two, three, hallo?”
Nothing more than that,
not even a one liner.
Please do return to your beloved dream.
Find your imagination in your beautiful enigmatic lover
You may fetch her, even from the farthest corner of a poem
And, please be sure that you may.
And you may do so, for me
On and on.
Is it too much of a task?
I saw you both, together, already.
Wandering around, streets imprinted you both.
Footsteps.
Muddy constellations.
Guided me through. Meticulous coldness.
May I perceive it
as a stigma?
As a cliché?
As a bubbly snow? Whistleblower?
crawling with the irrationality to linger more?
Perhaps, just so, because,
it never served me enough.
Or are there anything?
To digress with any of these?
Yes, it is better that way
Do return, please do so, earnestly.
And lame excuses are in abundance,
It will find me too, sooner or later, anyhow.
“Un the Lib,”
how far are you there, with your two cents?
Redundant Again
By Elton Camp
There’s an expression hard to beat
It’s a reference to “hamburger meat”
Here’s another that’s too often seen
Come and use our “ATM machine”
In a storm, folks always “hunker down”
But to “hunker up” is not ever found
An “advance reservation” is quite wise
You can’t do it afterward with many tries
There’s no sense to “aid and abet,”
Since the same meaning they get
Then consider the name “balsa wood”
Surely “wood” has to be understood
A “brief moment” certainly can’t be long
Otherwise, the very expression is wrong
Why use the two words “cancel out”
When cancel alone shows what’s about
Contemplate the words “cash money”
Doesn’t it actually sound rather funny
In “closed fist” I really have to insist
That “closed” is essential if it’s a fist
Ingredients you have to “combine together”
You can’t combine apart even if you rather
“Completely filled” uses two words when it’s true
When “filled” alone would be all we need do
We “confer together” because there’s no art
That will somehow allow us to confer apart
We “could possibly” carry out the plan
Gives nothing new that we can understand
The “current incumbent” is the one in now
An “incumbent” has to be current anyhow
How could it be that we say “exact same”
When identical is what the two words name
We ordinarily will speak of a “face mask”
Where else could a “mask” go I have to ask
So if I trip then I have to “fall down”
If I fall up, then gravity isn’t around
A plane, we say, will “fly through the air”
Could it fly through the water over there?
Enter a “PIN number” when using a debit card
That “PIN” already says number can’t be too hard
A fly is crawling on the “nape of her neck”
Where else is a “nape” located by heck?
Then there’s the expression “overused cliché”
Could a “cliché” possibly be any other way?
A “pair of twins” surely does imply there are two
Any other number with “twins” just wouldn’t do
And now think about the words, “sole of the foot”
Where else is it that a “sole” could possibly be put?
Another example of redundancy is “tuna fish”
“Tuna” can’t be anything else even if we wish
In our writing, unneeded words we should eliminate
Lest our postings others should actually come to hate
Feeling under pressure
Lost a little by pleasure
Due to what I did on my leisure
I’m sorry, God, I let you down for sure
Dealing with the side effects now…right now..
I’m the one that’s a horrible individual anyhow
I can’t keep it all inside
One of these days,
It’s going to bubble back up
And it’s going to overflow…
Like this guilt…this guilt…
Lord, am I strongly built?
I knew you were troublesome from the start
I knew you were the one that tore me apart
I knew better than to trust you with my heart
I knew you were quite a darksome piece of art
I committed so many nasty sins…I committed so many abominable sins
It’s not even funny anymore…
I try to forgive myself, but it’s as difficult as walking on needles and pins
It leaves me breathless and sore…
I’m sorry…I apologize greatly…I really do, Father of truth
I gave in to the Father of lies…
I gave in to the heartless goodbyes
I am like rotten teeth that doesn’t have a healthy tooth
I lost it all in vain –
It feels like it at least
Am I really sane?
I am this hideous beast…
Without his beauty…
Without his eternity…
I am shaken to the core…to the core…
Who is there for me to simply adore?
Think of me as you spend your days
Away from me…doing your own ways
I pray I don’t lose my faith today…what can I say?
Keep me in your prayers day by day
I’m crying out tremendously for something more
I want to be a success just like everybody else…
I’m trying to be stronger than what I was before
I know, on my leisure time, I did wrong...sin sells…
Keep me in your prayers day by day
I was addicted to sick desires that lead me astray
I love You…I don’t show it enough, that’s true
I hate Satan for all he has done and will do…
Feeling under pressure
Lost a little by pleasure
Left unsure as usual, what’s new?
Left unsure as a fool…time wasted and its consequences seem cruel…
But, actually…honestly…
It’s somewhat fair…
Free me and you’ll see
That I have so much wisdom and experience to share…
Nothing compared to Christ though
Send me happiness when I’m low
I’ve fallen deeper in trouble, I dare say
I’m calling for You, but no answer or any cure…
My prayers and cries, please don’t delay
I’m looking around for You…I will surely endure…
You found me,
Lifted
What beliefs within that do you define
the adversary's lies or Gods Truth divine
like a child absorbed what you've been taught
have you examined the things that are thought
In the stronghold of your heart and mind
the vast majority of information you will find
is designed to impair accurate thinking
because six thousand years of deceit are drinking
The Word of Truth is made for our correction
to tear down the the entanglements of defection
to expose corruption and self deception
the barriers and veil to the Father connection
People believe in angels but seem to forget
that the armies of Lucifer are still here yet
a deceiver and lies are his pathways
to deaden hearts where clouded thinking stays
Is the easter bunny a truth or lie
and when children grow up and do ask why
in the Truth of God they haven't believed
because like a fairy tale it is received
Just another story as it's understood
like the fables to show evil and good
that the outcome and end can't be serious
because they believe the Truth is mysterious
The paths of Truth lay within simplicity
and it's clarity does overcome lies duplicity
Gods Kingdoms children and such like ones
speak a single Truth not Babylon's tongues
Like the fiction of fairy tales lies reside
in religious doctrine whitewashed graves hide
by pomp and pageantry Jesus teaching denied
and the indoctrination of demons Gods Word belied
Fiction upon fiction are children fed
so like those tales Gods Truth made dead
why take it seriously when one is grown
all stories end happily in heaven is shown
What is important is what they get now
for death doesn't exist for eternal soul anyhow
Beliel and Satan and prophetic prediction
they can just chalk it up as another fiction
One cannot teach lies and be a spiritual Jew
by teaching of Jesus can only speak what is True
to be a Son of God with all lies must brake
for Holy Spirit must heart and mind remake
The Word of God should affect all reason
and clean out all thoughts that to God are treason
Jesus may have died to save all from sin
but that won't help if not reborn within
Behold I am coming quickly says He that is True
to cleanse the earth and make all things new
broad the path to destruction those chosen few
they have believed Gods Word and whats holy renew
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
Somewhere out there in the world
There was a girl, No! strike that—a woman.
He saw as a girl, but knew as a woman.
And loved her only like a man, only a real man can.
A full grown man. Past his trials and tribulations that plague an adolescent youth, posturing while attempting to prove his valor, worth and to much a female’s ambivalent chagrin, his dominance. In his tiny kingdom. Which was really the vast universe of all that crazy phenomenon human beings gave the quirky abstract thing a name. They called it love.
That’s been written about by bards and authors alike. Between a male and a female, the dark to your light. Hey, who is dark anyway? It must be Eve.
Anyhow. Somewhere in the world this forthright, upstanding citizen of a girl, this woman had such an “understanding that she’d see him [in his entirety] like a poem or a story. And "find his words so valuable after all that when he confessed his apprehensions she would explain why they were in fact the very things that made him precious to her.” The Gestalt view of the man. She knew him entirely. Read him like a book. She knew the plot the exposition, the conflict the Rising Action (wink wink) the dénouement and the resolution. As the French would say, n'est-ce pas.
No, like a poem. A poem she wishes she could write. She knew where the best pages of him were. Existing in dog-eared pages with phrases that described earmarked features. Monumental features that tore her heart asunder. Features that filled her up. As god as her witness shed never be hungry again. To lie awake and think of his soul, seeping out of his mouth with words reverberating her own. Oscillating tiny bones, giving semiotics new meaning with each locution.
Don’t over analyze the symbolism here reader. She’d lie awake and ruminate his gestures, his mannerisms. His smile. And the way his face would look in different light. And how when he laughed the crinkles that formed around those intelligent eyes after he eloquently would mouth some truism. And she knew this face appeared throughout history. And she knew a writer of ballads wrote “don’t shove me while I’m drowning… were all just hunting for love” and she read once an author noted: “almost all the people on the boardwalk were paired off into couples.” The end.
(Life note to self — answer God’s call and walk hope’s hall with my head up with a heart of fearlessness, not appall)
Living this life has made me feel so much strife as of lately...but I’m making it alive by numbing the pain I’ve been feeling for a while now..I must sleep to get rid of the sweat on my brow
I felt like dying tonight, but deep down, I want to live freely...fake it till I make it is what I keep telling myself and I’m driven insane somehow...anyhow, I’m going to take a bow
Feel the thunderstorm of my heart beating
Enjoy a life full of joy and keep defeating
Negativity and its demons that dare to break you and I...God has filled me up with His might
Oh, I have an ode for myself — it’s a life note, not a death note...who knew I’d end up, losing a bit of faithfulness inside...but I need motivation to be by my side and soon enough, I will survive tribulation’s extraterrestrial tide
Tension and apprehension fills my mind and I’m so blind, but I was blessed with great sight
Elevate my empathy towards You and look forward to brighter days, so that I won’t cry these tears and simply cower away...something in me has died, but I’m confident that all cynicism will soon subside
Trying to let go of hopelessness and give in to tranquility’s hold - a peace that I need tremendously, so I’m giving it a try...I’ll try to fly...I must be bold...I must be bold and do what I am told, so that God’s Word doesn’t remain cold in my mind’s eye
Overly thinking over different dilemmas in my life and I don’t ever want to die...even if my mind says otherwise, I will become a happy man — that, I can’t deny
Shame embraced me, never leaving my presence...my beloved heart beats in remembrance
Of You and Your elegant effulgence...I remember the good times spent with the Father of Truth...Empath of loneliness and bearer of griefs of various kinds— that’s who I once was
Sometimes, life doesn’t make sense, but I’m looking forward to jubilance and His excellent radiance...
Free-spiritedly shines anew through the open doors of my mind’s eye...God loves us and reads our life notes of endurance and awesomeness, despite our downfalls and flaws...
(Life note to self — stand tall through it all and when I fall, I will get back up and get on the ball...)