Long Asserted Poems
Long Asserted Poems. Below are the most popular long Asserted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Asserted poems by poem length and keyword.
December 9 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Hebrews 11
Key Verse– Hebrews 11:6 But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY FAITH’S REWARDER
Lord God, You are my faith’s Rewarder
attested by Your bountiful goodness
Thank You for enabling me to understand Your Word’s truthfulness
And Your excellent offered sacrifice of righteousness…
Help me to please You always by Your graciousness.
Lord God, You are my faith’s Rewarder
affirmed by Your compassionate nurture
Thank You for letting me become Your heir of divine nature
And Your inheritance receiver with holy posture…
Help me to dwell in Your perfect will around Your sovereign pasture.
Lord God, You are my faith’s Rewarder
anchored by Your building foundation
Thank You for strengthening me along Your faithful instruction
And Your steadfast doctrine for my transformation…
Help me to declare that You’re my satisfaction.
Lord God, You are my faith’s Rewarder
asserted by Your Scriptures of certainty
Thank for inviting me toward Your better country of triumphant eternity
And Your heavenly kingdom though afflicted with infirmity…
Help me to stay in Your standards as regards decency and purity.
Lord God, You are my faith’s Rewarder
announced by Your enriching blessing
Thank You for teaching me to worship sincerely with Your appraising
And Your jubilant invitation toward earnest rejoicing…
Help me to abide in Your plan which is victorious choosing.
Lord God, You are my faith’s Rewarder
authenticated by Your immutable assurance
Thank You for promising to me Your security along deliverance
And Your protection against worldliness-hindrance…
Help me to show perseverance through Your gracious endurance.
Lord God, You are my faith’s Rewarder
acclaimed by Your redemption-settlement
Thank You for giving me Your gift of salvation from hell’s torment
And Your grant of everlasting life with Your pardon’s document…
Help me to live for Your glory while doing best in ministry-involvement.
December 9, 2023
OUTRIGHT PRETEXT
a synthesizer
perpetuates
an eternal quality
for
a compelling moment
this silhouette
a recreated
sensation
to
coincide
&assimilate
the
analytics captured
an
idea
asserted
as an
apperception
a simultaneously
sensation
supplies gestures
undulating
elegant
refined
glamorous
&amorous
unbridled
fervent &formidable
in
devoted
ideal
beauties
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Sometimes after Lisa and I do our early-morning 4 mile run (we treadmill in the basement fitness center if it’s under 43 degrees), I come back and lie on my bed, for just for a moment. This morning it was just as the sun broke over the horizon and a pink light crawled across my ceiling, highlighting every imperfection, like craters and mountains on some distant, barren planet. My Apple watch went chikle-inkle-lnkle. Ok, Time to start the day.
Later…
Leong got a new ‘Girls Life’ magazine, those always seem packed with the latest scientific info.
“Studies suggest that you and your deepest friends may share the same blood types!” Leong read aloud.
“I’m O-negative,” she announced, “What blood type are you?” She asked me.
“Red,” I revealed (I am, after all, pre-med).
“DElicious reddd,” Lisa updogged in a Bela Lugosi vampire voice.
“Americans are never serious,” Leong whinged, her voice rising and falling on the last syllables.
“That’s what makes us what we are today,” Lisa asserted, “a slowly, steadily, declining superpower.”
“We could join the military after Yale,” I suggested helpfully, “I bet they’d make us officers.”
“Oh sure, I hear the army’s making men out women these days” Lisa agreed.
“Sounds messy,” I said, wincing.”
.
.
Webster: Whinge: “to complain fretfully."
If you wish, my dearest friend, as I do
A better world to build, let us build it together
And make it:
Juster
Kinder
Nobler.
Let us lay the foundations of that world that would be
more compassionate and more loving than the one we
Live today,
Not only for you and for me
But
For our children, and the children of
Their children!
Yes, I admit that it is a complex undertaking,
Perhaps, an impossible task, as the past centuries
Have so emphatically asserted
But
There are more centuries before us,
Unborn centuries,
Innocent millennia,
Waiting for a better world to come,
For that
We must not betray their trust in us,
We must not disappoint their aspirations.
Let us, therefore,
Start building this magnificent world of our dreams,
Today.
Tell me, my loving friend,
Is there a finer duty?
A holier mission?
A more righteous and sacred
Pursuit than this?
Is there anything else more inspired by men,
More loved by God?
No, you know there is none!
Therefore
We must not hesitate any longer, come,
Let us dare!
Together, you and I, my brother,
Let us begin this holy enterprise
For
We owe it to ourselves
To our descendants
To the present and future humanity
Thus
Let us lay the cornerstone of
This illustrious structure now,
By
Taking the most challenging step forward:
Ourselves to change!
©Demetrios Trifiatis
14 June 2021
I went to two schools in reality,
But only had one in my mind,
A school that assimilated and understood,
A school that would not drive me blind.
Daniels nursery was the best,
In all ways apart from one,
Because it accepted my difference,
Respected my pensive hum.
But they didn’t provide facilities,
For my disability, loud and many times proud;
Sometimes I needed just to talk it over,
‘Cos my disability was not a shroud.
But I came top in both alphabet and numbers,
The private Edinburgh school was not above me,
And I managed to carve some friendships,
That were a delight to see.
But since they didn’t provide facilities,
It was decided I would leave for another,
For my future primary education,
Where my disability would not be such my master.
So I moved to a special school, Graysmill,
Which asserted my normality fine,
But they saw my clever mind as my parents credibility,
And so for Daniels I would pine.
I felt so much loved by Daniels headmaster,
Who took me aside initially and asked,
If I was happy and alright inside,
And so my reality I never masked.
I questioned him, “Do I have to believe in god?”
And he replied lovingly and tenderly,
“No Rhoda, you don’t have to believe in god,”
So I was relieved and had hope for future longevity.
So in daily assembly when I just thought my own thoughts,
Contemplated and pondered quietly to myself,
He smiled at me once ‘cos he knew what I was doing,
That bold, quick-witted atheistic elf.
But when I got to Graysmill as a new pupil,
They thought their framework for me was the best,
And tried to beget me with Christianity,
Ramifying my parents traditional morality chest.
After about eight months of hardship,
I realised they did not understand as well,
My real disability and proposition,
Which would take them some way further.
They were so uncaring at times,
Forceful, heartless and cold,
Lacking the relationships,
Upon which I could hold.
They assumed I'd not liked Daniels,
And empathised with me about it,
Insisted I'd not taken to integration,
That along side me they did sit.
There should’ve been that middle ground,
That state school with creative gumption,
So that my worldview was never found,
Lacking, with myself in need of instruction.
Young Timmy procured a small lacertilian,
Envisioning quite a grand master reptilian.
It sat on the culinary table in state,
Gulping down the cheap scraps put on its plate.
The reptile expanded twelve inches a day,
And kicked the poor terrified house cat away.
It swallowed a massive, hand-kneaded loaf—
He’s a beast now, no longer a pet or an oaf.
Timmy watched while adjusting his neon-green cap.
It sprouted a pair of scaly wings,
Obscuring the view of all municipal things.
It perched on the roof of the family sedan,
And exhaled a smoke that choked the whole clan.
The populace panicked and called for the mayor,
While Timmy was grooming his saurian’s hair.
"He lacks any malice," the youngster asserted,
"He merely requires a land more deserted."
The city’s high leaders decreed it was best,
To kick the whole mess out into the west;
Now Timmy, astride his draconian prize,
Is roasting the cows on the pastoral highs.
Epilogue
The western frontier is now completely ablaze,
Obscured by a thick and administrative haze.
The boy and his beast have established a state,
Revising the regional tax structure rate.
The local department of wildlife agrees,
The dragon can nest wherever he please.
They manage the landscape with ultimate power,
Extracting a bureaucratic fee by the hour.
Characters in action
Talents in multiplication
Shapes and sizes of many version
Skills on display with tension
Over the top ropes one would gape
Under the ropes one can escape
Apron of thick mattress
Arena of countless matches
Highlighted are dressed to kill
Fronting the crowd that fill
Seats of spectators that cheer
Feats of competitors, not jeer
Matches roll with blunder
Rumbling and grappling like thunder
Crutches and splints spread over
Bodies of the bruised fall over
Grueling matches live on
Under any pressure show must go on
It's not "business as usual" that linger
Players of theatrics in danger
Venues are slated by dates
Participants stipulated as mates
Previews of expected bouts
Reviews that excite and shouts
Year after year is the Rumble
Inside the ring that crumble
Event that sounds so noble
Fame, not fortune that bubble
A prelude to Wrestlemania
An interlude of regalia
A shot coveted in spotlight
A spot asserted with delight
Let's get ready to rumble!...
The courage of men, 'tis a curious thing;
everyone thinks it's about killing.
The thrill of battle, joy of a fight,
an enemy's face upon displays of might.
Yet the courage of men should not be
asserted in death, in bloody glee.
It should be felt in strength of soul,
measured in how is played the man's role.
Holding high the head, heeding hard the heart -
these herald the courage of men, the few apart.
One never knows all, and cannot plan for it,
but he can prove himself able, one of wit.
A soft hand instead of a heavy blow,
words and forgiveness, not a vicious row.
An offered shoulder, not a closed fist,
whispered support instead of insults hissed.
Too often, the vaunted courage of men
means nothing, abused in each dark den
where strength inside goes to be twisted,
disgrace, hate, where honor once existed.
To show true courage is not to be top dog,
not to make brothers through one's trail slog.
It is to help them meet, even exceed,
his level of worth, of word and deed.
Abandoning oaths and following only whim
makes not a man; that only proves a him.
Shouldering his burden, others' and one's own -
so are the seeds of men's real courage grown.
One need not give all, sacrifice his life to earn
his place in the world, on the heavenly wheel a turn -
self-sacrifice not necessary, selflessness all but;
a man out for only one, the door to courage has shut.
Embrace what needs be done, and a notion is born;
that one means more, that a worthy role is borne.
That one then is worthy of respect, esteem;
the pure courage of men now a life's theme.
It is not the case that Jesus ever physically rose from the dead,
Only that he was spoken of as alive afterwards by his followers,
Because his offer of medical treatment to the poor stood, the fed,
As it was obvious that it was moral to validate such behaviours.
John had seen a beggar with a bloody leg and attended quickly,
But he was spat on by rich by-passers who would loose status;
They would have to sacrifice the prestige of their visit specifically,
That doctor’s visit just for them as part of life in the wealthy stratus.
Because he had been Jesus’s best friend he looked up and replied,
“Jesus is risen,” and that communicated his stalwartness and resilience,
That Jesus’ principle was not going to go away as just one man’s tide,
But that his friends and the apostles were set on continuing his brilliance.
And Andrew who’d been a fisherman before he’d befriended Jesus,
Knew all the kids of most of the other fishermen, and some were sick,
And because Jesus had taught him medical practises as there was a fuss,
Andrew made their children better in one and posited Jesus would stick.
But their neighbours chided him and scoffed, obviating them as poor,
Not entitled to a doctor’s time, and not entitled to free health care,
So Andrew emphasised that these people were his friends, the lure,
And that he was no scare but that he would himself by ignorance scare.
The intelligensia of the time, or the prophets, had predicted Jesus resurrection,
Not his actual one, but just as a euphemism for Jesus’ power after his death;
When people said “I believe in Jesus!” or claimed that he was risen in dedication:
They asserted it by their acts and so could claim the resurrection in a breath.
Lost in a sea of troubles,
Ravaged by a tumultuous predicament,
One door closes,
The other door is standing in wait,
I thought I was freed,
Until the door opened and I saw what lay in wait,
Every day I wrestle these assailants,
Every day I combat these phantom strangers,
My mind is taunted and tortured,
It is tossed by tempest waves,
I fight to bring it to land,
I had chosen to be a recluse,
Until I met a Sage,
I went with him up a hill,
He asked me to tell him what I saw,
“I see a golden yellow ball sinking,” I said,
“You’re right,” he asserted,
“Do you know this same ball will fight to take its place at the dawn of the day,” he said,
I paused and took a long stare at him,
“It’s needed by many. Its heat keeps us warm. Its light keeps us from stumbling. That’s why it has to take its place,”
I nodded,
He continued, “My son so don’t give up in the fight for you’re needed much more than you think. You'll soon get through it.”
Tears flowed down my eyes.
May 22, 2022,
Divine Intervention Poetry Contest.