Long At times Poems
Long At times Poems. Below are the most popular long At times by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long At times poems by poem length and keyword.
The Dark Half…
Demons trapped inside of me
Released for the world to see
Awakened from their life-long slumber
At last they’ve been set free
My inner rage is the fire that fuels me
My anger seethes from every pore
No longer caged, my desire will rule me
A bloodlust to even the score
I am only half the monster being a man has made me
The other half is like a forgotten dream
Half the monster being a man has made me
The dark half that you now see…
I feel a rage like I’ve never felt before
To inflict pain in a way that cannot be forgotten
Years of suffering over, ended once and for all
Laid to rest with the bodies of those I’ll leave for dead
Call my name and in my own grave you’ll find me
Spark to flame I will rise as you are falling
I can’t explain, not in words but in violent actions
Uncontrolled, exacting vengeance while slowly killing myself
I am only half the monster that being a man has made me
The other half is a forgotten dream
Half the monster being a man has made me
The dark half that you now see…
…In a reflection of the world around me,
I have become all that I have seen,
At times, that which I most despise…
The dark half that lives in me.
Your life boils down to a conversation
that started at birth, and carries on
until the day it is over, or
until you decide you can carry it no further.
For most of us,
this conversation is like water:
trickling at times,
gushing at others, and
when it's really cold, freezing up
like a frozen pond in the midst
of a deep artic winter.
This conversation, flowing in all directions,
always finds its way back to what matters;
like why you suffer so
about your shortcomings,
or why you think
you are so unworthy of God's love.
Like all conversations, your conversation
must involve both talking and listening.
Always there must be another,
even if it's an imagined other,
for the conversation to take place.
Find your conversation—
the one in your deepest place.
Tune in to the words.
Listen first,
and once you've plugged in,
ask the hard questions:
those whose answers you fear the most.
I walked with a giant today along a rippling mountain stream.
He's been my friend for years, I hold Him in high esteem!
Tho' at times I've strayed from His sheltering love and care,
He always welcomes me back, His fellowship willing to share!
I walked with a giant today and we talked of many things.
His voice as calm and soothing as angelic orchestral strings.
He took my hand when I tripped over obstacles along the trail.
His solicitude was so tender for this mortal man so frail.
I walked with a giant today - He was concerned about brotherhood.
He sadly mused, "Why can't humankind turn from evil and do good?
Oh! If only folks to one another would strive to be less cruel!
This could be, if only they'd abide by The Golden Rule!"
I walked with a giant today - He showed me the grandeur of Creation.
Magnificent tor and bountiful plain created for our inspiration.
Towering trees, pristine lakes, sleek cattle of the prairie.
The majestic golden eagle surveying his domain from its aerie!
The giant I strolled with today was my friend Jesus of Galilee.
Though unseen, His presence was as real to me as could be!
What a guide, what a pal, a true and trusted friend indeed!
An understanding and compassionate friend to turn to when in need!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Honorable Mention in the "Poem of Faith" Contest - June 2010
Written for and about my eldest daughter, Freya Lily (Pickle).
Ive loved you,
from the very first second I saw you,
you are my beautiful first born.
So the times when I see you upset
frustrates me and I’m torn.
Because you truly are lovely,
And trust me when I say
that I look at you every day
Filled with so much pride,
That i can hardly contain,
it makes me want to burst inside,
You’re as sweet as the classical music
you play at night.
Because it only seems like yesterday.
you was that gorgeous little baby.
sat in your high chair,
lacking any eye brow hair.
chucking food down to daisy,
the most lazy,loving dog
Who would always follow you around the house,
With her ears pricked up,as if
her suspicions were aroused.
It’s like somehow she knew
you was up-to no good,
or really I think she was just waiting
for you to drop more food.
I will never forget the the time.
when your mum called me to say,
you had poured red paint on the carpet that day.
I could only imagine her shock and despair.
As she desperately tried to scrub
The paint from the top of the stairs.
Your poor mum was in such a distress,
As she told me later that night
she was cursing my name,
as she cleared up that mess
Because apparently me and you
are like two peas in a pod,
We play fight in a supermarkets,
and be mischievous
like a dad and daughter should.
But as I sit looking at you now watching you grow.
I love you so much.
that I thought you should know,
what a wonderful young lady your going to become,
your loving and kind,
with a softness and innocence.
But at times you have a worrying naivety.
Also I think that it’s fair to say.
and I’m sure your agree with me,
that getting you to tidy your room
doesn’t come so easily.
other then that don’t ever change
as your doing just fine,
We all love just how clumsy and silly
you are most of the time.
You have a brilliant sensor of humour and
your a fantastic young artists
With dreams of designing fashion
And moving to Paris.
And You will,
with some heart and desire.
So Never lose your love,passion or fire.
You can do whatever you want to do.
and be whoever you want to be.
because your my beautiful darling daughter,
My Angel face,
Freya Lily.
( pickle)
Why can't I be the real me
Instead of putting on airs to impress
If I really didn't care what people thought
I could go to the mall in a dress
Right away I'd be labeled as kinda unusual
To say the least I'd be mocked
Teenagers would all point and chuckle at me
Oldsters would be totally shocked
Imagine as well if I dyed my hair green
With lipstick a dark shade of pink
Not saying I'd ever resort to such nonsense
But it sure would make people blink
To shock everyone with bizarre behaviour
To act like you've gone a bit looney
Imagine the reaction of these real snotty folks
Might think they're filming a movie
There are certainly limits for our behaviour
We can't go naked in the streets
Coz at times when a shapely woman walks by
Well... this last line I had to delete!
Opportunities come and go,
From all directions as the wind blows.
Making it near impossible to ever know,
Which way, one should choose to go.
The choices we make each day,
Effect someone in some way.
Many of life’s decisions are tough,
Nothing we do seems to be enough.
Not every choice is a simple coin flip,
Try memorizing an album or movie scripts.
The reason for a decision at times unclear,
Driving in fog not waiting for the air to clear.
No matter the path you ultimately take,
Be confident in the choices you make.
Whether the cause be it good or bad,
We won’t know until you step on the track.
a time to live
a time to die
a time to laugh
a time to cry
a time to mourn
they that died
a time to remember
times we laughed and cried
who can recall the fullness of life
the time when the fruit
they say has turned ripe
then time to harvest
weather happy or sad
they pick the fruit
and put it in a bag
it may be prepared
for a wonderful feast
or preserved for latter
when the harvest is weak
but to rot on the vine
is a waste of Gods time
and sinful where usefullness
was only deceit
have they been missed
by the harvesters hand
perhapes left for gleening
their second chance
but rot on the vine
is the devils delight
give nothing to anyone
and stay out of sight
the time to give
is waning fast
we're constantly ageing
with lives that won't last
opportunity soon becomes
a thing of the past
but the best come forth
giving what they have
it seem's at times
that they are taken from us
our gentle lambs
we love and trust
but by Glory they are saved
for a greater day
in the fullness of life
they went away
from a time to live
and a time to die
to a time to die
and a time to live
I know who I am
I am at times confused bewildered
I am pondering wondering questioning
I am a grain of sand in a windswept desert
I am a mist obliterated by the morning sun
I am a wave in oceans deep
I am an atom amidst the constellations
I am in the greater universe invisible
Oh but God in his image was I formed
Just a little lower than the angels made he me
Out of dust shaped and from his very breath given life
I am man extension of his love
I know who I am where I’m going
I know how to get there
I am not static I am perpetual motion
I have purpose and direction
Oh but God my God finally I know who I am
Confusion relents and bows to revelation
I am strong umbilically connected
I am peace and joy unbridled
I am grace personified I am truth I am content
My Heart is the strongest muscle in my body,
but emotionally and mentally,
it is the weakest and most vulnerable
of all the muscles.
It makes me feel lonely
and yet in love at the same time.
The heart fools me into thinking
you were actually in love with me,
yet in reality it was never meant to be.
Love is fickle and cruel at times,
yet the heart is vulnerable.
So what can you do?
Well my heart has been trampled on,
stepped on, stabbed, and girls have just about killed me.
I’ve been denied Love,
I’ve been let down easy,
I’ve been told “ Oh It’s not you, “
and yet my heart the strongest muscle in my body,
is still beating, is still there,
and I am still alive but
my heart is still vulnerable.
Revisiting the park of my childhood,
I envision myself and my sisters.
We are laughing and shouting, running this way and that.
“Let’s go on the swing set,” I say.
We each grab a swing, and as if in a contest,
we begin to pump our legs,
pushing ourselves backward, then leaning forward and up!
We’re giggling birds, and our lean little legs are wings
taking us higher and higher to the sky.
No limit is there on our time! It’s summer, and like birds, we are free.
At times we get lost in our own quiet thoughts -
I revel in the mere pleasure of hearing and feeling the wind in my hair
as I swing and I swing till I tire of it.
Boldly then, I take a wild leap forward straight out of my seat
right as the swing has reached its highest peak!
Agilely I land on my two feet,
no worries about a bad back, sore neck or aging knees.
I’m oozing with audaciousness in the spring of my youth,
and I have nothing to fear.
Reality hits me. The whoops of running children no longer are heard.
The park is deserted. The kids of today
are likely elsewhere texting on cell phones!
In the quiet, I hear all of a sudden the croon of a bird.
It’s calling to me, “Go to the swing set.”
I walk to a swing and sit down.
Like riding a bike, it always comes back.
I’m older now, but the child inside me is winging.
Just for a moment, I feel so alive.
Then a quesiness grasps at my stomach.
I let the swing slow to a stop.
The swing set is creaking along with my bones -
bones that dare not take a leap mid-air just to leave this swinging chair!
No sisters are with me. Spring is long gone.
I stand in the gloaming of the season . . .
and the bird – why has it stopped its sweet song?
Sorry it's not a new one but it's one of mine that never got many reads: For Silent One's That was Then, This is Now contest