Long Bearer Poems
Long Bearer Poems. Below are the most popular long Bearer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bearer poems by poem length and keyword.
Follow me.
I am the earth.
I am the rock that grounds you.
I am the support beneath your feet.
I am the force. I have your back.
Follow me.
I am the sea.
I am the beast for your burden.
I am the liquid that intoxicates you.
I am the force. I have your back.
Follow me.
I am the wind.
I am your dreams borne aloft.
I am the bearer of your sorrows.
I am the force. I have your back.
Follow me.
I am the fire.
I am your deepest desire.
I am the heat of love’s heart.
I am the force. I have your back.
Follow me.
I am the spirit.
I am the center.
I am the lullaby of peace.
I am the force. I have your back.
Methinks pilots are such superior mortals
For their ability to make metals fly like fowls,
And soldiers have such an impressive mettle
That makes you salute their daring prowls.
Surgeons are such a precise and thoroughly seasoned breed
That will dumbfound with details of capillaries and veins,
And commanders-in-chief such colossal powers wantonly wield
Till they addict themselves to honor and extend their reigns.
A charismatic preacher will yodel tunes and heal the lame
And win a hefty standing among their peers in a moment;
The teacher is the final light and bearer of the last opinion
And their learned views sail without a single opponent.
But the poet is the chariot of thought that inspires them all.
He’s the silent roar of the Boeing with the pilot in,
He’s the muffled ricocheting of the soldier’s Kalashnikov;
The unspoken overtones of the preacher’s condemnation of sin,
The subtlest incision of the surgeon’s authorized blade
And the president’s solemn inspection of the honor parade.
Somber Force
Regenerated compassion of brilliant plights
So dark in color or tone, gloomy.
So dull
blacken is the light, blinding is the darkness
So dark in color or tone, gloomy.
So drab, dingy, shady, ever I'm restrained subdued sober severe austere
Blacken is the light, blinding is the darkness
Earnest serious grave robber sober unsmiling poker-faced coffin bearer
So drab, dingy, shady, ever I'm restrained subdued sober severe Austere
So dull
Earnest serious grave robber sober unsmiling poker-faced coffin bearer
Regenerated compassion of brilliant plights such an enlightenment such a… Somber Force
11/13/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Atmosphere peers in as witnessed guide
Playing silent the light a curse of the eye
Distant drum beats,
blood keeping time as the encampment
machines turn
Seer flips an hourglass
measuring the polarity and equity of the fall
Deserters, heads filling the holes increments
of inclement, cement ed dissent of traitorous mole,
ducking tale, tucking trail
motions of churn, taken the asundered call
Into the pit of dry foaming foment
to take the moments from one and all
The sconses lick hungrily at an invisible crevace
beyond the wall
As if to escape the dire situation
Dancing shadows mocking with the flame
Threats to soot on, even urning to you
hieroglyphic mummified remains of the blame
An operative to take the walls
as an agent of willed imagery,
with intent effigy chasing
Voodoo, if self placing, if only in symbology
it signs its name,
yours it seeks erasing
Sways like an imbecile to the drums
that roll on chTantric Seasoning
Chancing luck, diced to taste, the only salvation
Old Men milk the ink and the pages complain
of the hurried-station, airy, brash, the callous flap
But still there to give their credence credulity
and their backs
Thick the cool salve over the eye
Nor reap the fruit of the Harvester
Be not a Mothers bag pulled dry
While the challenge is chalice ready, epic, nigh
The Standard bears the last stand
with royal severity, the last strand of the integrity
Walk the great halls, echo
that Nativity
That takes the line with Authority
1
Love, oh love, the beauty of pure passion
to yearn and dream of your wondrous intent
bearer of gifts conquers my heart's bastion
in quiet solitude allows consent
stay calm my heart from eyes glorious bond
that pierce my soul's armor steadfastly held
to steal my heart's shield long weathered and worn
you offer a kiss for passions to spawn
this vision of love my heart has withheld
you rush to love's altar, my soul's transformed
2
I lay in your arms, emotions unknown
and touch love's eternal bliss that shimmer
to relight the ashes where flames have grown
these sparks cause a heart's passion to glimmer
I'll cross the loneliness where love forgives
to throw off the darkness where my love hides
find a paradise in love's treasured mirth
and a sense of forever that still lives
where trust and honor are the purest guides
that allows my heart to accept rebirth
3
To be so loved as to finally yield
and surrender the sum of my being
knowing when in love nothing is concealed
as I bow to the love I am seeing
like a rose dressed in red, plucked while in bloom
this flower with its fragrant scent so sweet
where honey drips from the eyes of lovers
and fills my soul with sensual perfume
to make the bonding of our love complete
whispers and sighs are what love discovers
4/30/22
contest Form-O-Ode-LOVE
Sponsor- Constance La France
Do not blame the bearer of the bad news –
A gun doesn’t kill by itself or a knife,
Nor a video game or hostile views;
An evil act is but wrought by a mind’s strife.
You may foster a sapling or stunt its growth
and see it’ll be a vine or an oak tree;
like the mind of a child as he grows forth –
Will he be vile or live a life stress-free?
There are spiritual laws that govern with
the same certainty as the physical laws,
Faith, trust in God, and Love are not ancient myth
But values that shape the character sans flaws.
Like putty, wax, dough, or a lump of clay
Mold the child right lest another soul he slay.
~Contest: Guns
~Anthony Biaanco
In the labyrinth of memory, shadows dance on the walls of recollection, whispering untold stories,
And I, an eternal child, wander through the corridors of time, seeking answers in the eyes of those who raised me.
They, the wellsprings of my being, unwittingly poured their turbid waters into my soul,
A broken mirror in which I see the reflection of their own wounds, amplified by the echo of my own fears.
But they too, once children, drank from the same bitter waters, poisoned by the shadows of the past,
Involuntary bearers of a heavy inheritance, passed down from generation to generation like a merciless disease.
I see in their eyes unshed tears, in their smiles, hidden grimaces of unspoken pain,
And in their deafening silences, I hear the muffled cries of the children they once were.
This chain of suffering stretches into the past like an infinite spider's web,
Each generation adding new threads, new knots, new traps for those who will follow.
I feel caught in this web of time, struggling to free myself from the weight of history,
Seeking an exit from this labyrinth of inherited pain, a way to break the endless cycle.
In every gesture of tenderness, I see the shadow of an unhealed wound, in every harsh word, the echo of a forgotten suffering,
And my heart becomes a vessel too small for the ocean of melancholy that overflows from the depths of my being.
I wonder, in the silence of the night, how I could break this chain, heal these ancestral wounds,
To transform pain into wisdom, to alchemize suffering into compassion and love.
Perhaps salvation lies in awareness, in the power to face the shadows of the past without letting them define us,
In the courage to love despite the wounds, to create beauty from the ashes of inherited pain.
And thus, in the uninterrupted flow of consciousness, I find myself both child and parent,
Bearer of a complicated history, but also creator of a future yet unwritten, where scars become stories of healing and hope.
The chaos in my heart,
The turbulence within my chamber,
A sea in tempestuous rage,
A sudden, rapid turning of the pages of a book,
An uproar gnawing at my mind—
Tranquil, I still seek to find.
I walk into the embrace of the day,
I walk into the loveliness of its morning light,
Desiring its warmth and beauty,
Hoping to look through its lens,
Longing to soar in the colours of its grace.
The chaos within me finds its way through,
The tumult escapes from its chamber,
I’m fighting to regain control.
The chaos in my heart is a recalcitrant child;
It refuses to be pacified.
It’s an age-old adventure,
An endless path filled with mysteries,
A wonderland of enigma.
Seeking the light hasn’t yet made a difference,
Searching the depths hasn’t quenched its flames;
It’s a monster glaring at my window.
I once told a sage that I feel like Paul in the Bible—
A thorn in his flesh,
Darkness in his soul,
An agent of Satan buffeting him.
He sought the Lord for deliverance,
But three times brought no difference—
Only a word of truth and consolation.
He said I didn’t understand what Paul meant,
But I believe I do;
Won’t the vessel know its contents?
Won’t the bearer recognize the weight of the load?
As much as I long for the strength of the Lord,
I desire the tranquillity of a river.
April 21, 2025.
How does an old man as old as me
Keep up with the changes in society
Men can be women, old men can be girls
Pronouns can be mx or they, or hers
Abortion is healthcare through faces proud
Is said by the bearer who echoes the crowd
The word “marriage” has changed from the ancients
Is nothing pure? Is nothing sacred?
Positive and negative no longer are compliments
Now we’re the same cos no need for supplements
Sport now reflects the querying of boundaries
Like robots obeying we are and non-binaried
All whites are oppressive without a choice
Everyone else sings in harmonic voice.
The floodgates opened in 2014
Homosexual marriage the new morphine
All institutions now deceitfully captured
So called progressives buoyantly enraptured
The decline of the west has left me behind
But eternal truth is on my side.
The Royal disease
I'm no royalty, but I got the gene
The gene that I'll pass down to a carrier
Who'll be like the crown bearer
A crown of thorns to be cast onto the next
And like a chain it binds the victim
It confines them to a life of precaution
Cause our joints can't take much
From time to time they bleed, it hurts like a thorn
But unlike the hierarchy this is random
The bearer can be anyone
And cause it doesn't follow a pattern
It's hard to monitor and a pain when it attacks
It's carried in the x chromosome
And because we boys question it with our y
It's us who fall victim to it
Having to suffer It's wrath
To ease the swellings we got injections
We call it factor and its a big factor,
To consider self infusion
Cause our life's depend on it
But in place of factor when there's none
We have to take rest after an attack
Ice it down to cool or compress it to cool
Cause if it doesn't we forced to elevate it
The PO£T