Long Bearing Poems
Long Bearing Poems. Below are the most popular long Bearing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bearing poems by poem length and keyword.
In silence, we watch shadows pass.
They shape our thoughts and feed the farce.
Moulding lives to fit the lies
that see us strive, conform and die.
And scared of what we do not know,
we do not move or seek to go.
But idle in their well-known forms.
Find safety in such practised norms.
There is no need to speculate;
the shadows teach us fear and hate.
Breed small world views and selfish thoughts.
Dispense with troubling shoulds and oughts.
It matters not what's right or wrong,
so long as we all nod along.
Accept those preached invented truths,
and justify each new abuse.
While newborn Gods, those few rich men,
close liberty's gate and lock the pen.
Embrace what once seemed quite absurd;
they are the path, we are the herd.
In barless cages, with blinkered eyes,
bearing witness to corpocracy’s rise.
The missing light upon that wall
...an absence which now stains us all.
& the green leaves come
fresh, full, fair & free!
springing forth like new life –
ah! around a raw nature they coil
with ease their new filaments
taken from a paradise of recoil;
& the green leaves come
fresh, full, fair & free!
bearing some ancient birth-songs
the soothing rhythms of creation
ah! this new rain waters our soil
everywhere rebreeding my clan;
& the green leaves come
fresh, full, fair & free!
oh! summon my drummers & dancers
& let’s join song with song
& let’s join drum with drum
for the green leaves spring forth!
& the green leaves come
fresh, full, fair & free!
& my barn bursts with fruit-songs
with golden instruments of songs
& creation renews a ripening resolve
with more green leaves sprouting anew.
He is not hiding in the woods,
Waiting for us to take a walk-through,
There are no doorways
through the trees that lead to Him,
He’s not enveloped by their boughs.
He is not standing on the mountain,
Desiring us to climb up to Him,
Bearing the strains of the climb,
Finding a place for each foot.
He is not coming with the waves of the sea,
Thundering and roaring,
Crashing on the seashore,
Intermittently and abruptly.
He is not hiding in the sun,
Voyaged millions of miles away,
He is not standing on the moon,
Waiting for an escape flight to Him.
He is not cloaked by the sheet of the night,
Embellished with dazzling lights,
He is not coming in our dreams,
At the dead of the night.
He is within us and around us,
He is everywhere and at all places,
A mystery that can’t be unfolded,
A puzzle that can’t be solved.
August 24, 2022.
Where is God Hiding Poetry Contest,
Unseeking Seeker.
The story is told
In the Rome of old
A man took the road
Bearing the load
The cross of shame
Guilt and blame
All to us shove
His unending love
The story had been told
A prophecy that waited to unfold
He who had eyes beheld
And was fortunately compelled
He who had ears harkened
News that saddened
That the innocent was slain
All to bear another’s pain
The story is always told
That forbearance and love may hold
As the wisdom that ought to be sought
Even profitable if bought
Not for sale but for keeps
That a man may make leaps
Peaceful even with his enemies
With speech full of remedies
BECAUSE…
It’s strange the rugged roads
We traveled—
Bearing the treacherous loads,
With a love unraveled.
But social status would have its way:
Splintering society gradually splitting
Us astray—
Now, we eternally ponder with what to say,
When meeting on another bereavement day.
Who would have thought we would ever part;
Interwoven like the water and salt of the sea?
But the winds of change were veiled at our start;
Now I’m moored away from you and you from me.
It’s strange how the waters of life ebb and flow;
And how undulating love just seems to come and go.
Now all is forgiven and we’ve survived the sorrowing grief;
May God continue to grant us peace and everlasting relief?
Thoughts about how to be adequate flow through my mind like relentless waves,
Persisting in their demands as they echo my name,
This world, a wild beast that cannot be tamed.
The weight is immense and unyieldingly harsh,
Weakening my once tested stature,
Turning me into another Atlas,
Bearing a suffering that knows no cure.
How much longer can I endure this trial?
Feeling so inherently insecure,
My life shrouded in obscurity,
Am I destined to hold on, chained by destiny?
I fear that my strength will wane,
For if I falter, I’ll drown in my sorrows,
Seeking solace in bottles of emptiness,
Quenching my unquenchable thirst,
Fooling myself with tomorrows that softly whisper sweet lies.
I must not let go, for some depend on me like Apollos in celestial dance,
I yearn for strength, for inspiration to borrow,
To continue bearing this heavy, unrelenting yoke.
In a world tangled in the net of doubt,
I carry the burden like a tree bent by merciless winds,
Branches outstretched like the arms of an invisible titan,
Each leaf, a hope waving in the winds of change.
My thoughts dash through oceans of pressure,
Where the waves of ambition crash against the rocks of reality,
Their foam, a mist of confusion and fear,
Yet beneath the surface, currents still carry dreams bound in resolve.
I often wonder if the ground beneath my feet is solid,
Or if I will fall, a shooting star, into the abyss of misfortune,
Working silently under the weight of the world,
I find strength in the eyes of those who stake their hopes on me.
Though the path is overgrown with long, dark shadows,
The inner light still flickers, fragile but tenacious,
Finding solace in the unsung songs of the future,
An unwritten poem, a symphony of possibilities.
Thus, I keep walking this melancholic and mystical journey,
A solitary sentinel of my own thoughts,
Crushed under the weight of relentless trials,
Yet always hoping for the strength to endure one more day.
I opened my eyes and saw
an unfamiliar place. The noon
sun was bright but less hot,
peeping through the gaps between
leaves of trees bearing fruits
abundantly. The waves and sands
laughed at my nakedness as they
soaked my body with cool relief
from the pain of forgetting the past.
I filled my lungs with the freshest air
and did my first act of moving and
walking. Hermet crabs hid inside their
borrowed monovalves. Didn’t they want
to see me? Or were they ashamed?
Or was that how
they showed respect?
I heard the cheerful birds singing
on the trees. I did not know
if they were rejoicing for my
coming or just for themselves.
Continuing my pace towards uncertainty,
a river crossed my path. There I
quenched my thirst with clear
and sweet water. I found my self
sitting on a mossy rock beside the river,
surprised by the reflection on the water:
a woman sitting beside me.
I learned the words with her.
I learned to count the suns
and moons that passed by
and children that I made
with her. We found the things
which were safe and good for us
and for our children
and for our children’s children.
Not knowing that it was
another beginning
and the best.
To God I must be thankful.
They told me that I
murdered you,
placed you on side of roads
naked, broken in two.
My heart leaped, each morning
I woke without you by my side.
When I was able to glance in
steady mirrors, and saw no
more of you
A smile shone across my face.
I am different, no worries
For I will be victorious.
They say that I have freed myself.
No more will your face taunt
my restless nights
No more will my mind give way
to sinister games.
At night when I turn over,
I leap for joy for I can not see
your face.
When words are spoken and an echo isnt granted
I sigh with ease.
I was different, no troubles
My life seemed to of changed
I wake with fear in my soul
No
Please NO!!
My knees buckled from anchored
ships weighed upon them.
When day turns to night...
In horror stands this merciless
being bearing
deep into my soul.
I hear an echo..
In desperation, I claw at this
unrelenting image, inflicting pain,
in hopes it disappears.
Only to hear her laugh
as crimson rain
streams down my face.
Cold-blooded image whispers...
I WILL NEVER LET YOU CHANGE.
Silence fell on the moon, the stars
And my heart mourned, the stillness of night
Breathing, aching, remembering gentle memoirs
Reverberating pieces of the early morning light
Teasing colors of doubt, packed in jars
Playing, silhouettes on the moon, so right
Feelings buried, under packages of grace, once ours
Grace knows me, despite my fears
Trembling pain, destroying my life
My mind feels lost in desperate tears
And I know only this distant strife
Where do I go when the night buries my song?
Is there hope that I can know, despite the pain
When nothing feels like it should, and I don’t belong
Can I, the misunderstood, keep my mind sane?
When the night fades and the dew rests, never wrong
Does the day revive my soul, wash away the stain…
From the night, when fragile beating, beats
Telling the rhythm, the puddle of teardrops, streaming
Over the heart, wistful with doubt – defeats
Inside, my soul is screaming, screaming, screaming!
And this is where my spirit, the devil meets
Darkness rests on the moments, feels like I’m dreaming
A nightmare, bearing down through the night
Filling me with apprehension, worries, unease
What once felt good, feels dark and I want to fight
Tearing at the skin of my shadows, on my knees
I feel what has been described as midnight
When I feel, emotions who can kill, oh God please…
Let me heal – let this disease leave
Find another place to be, so I can see
Past the hurt, the pain, I believe
Even though I’m in the dark, hear my plea
Don’t let the mania deceive
It’s only a part of me – I need to be set free
Lord, set me free from this disease
See me now – I’m on my knees
God, please…
Defeated with frustration and despair
There you are plunging into failure’s pit
Lamenting, “Oh, for me, no one does care…”
From life of thorns, let me exit a bit!
Friends do rebuke your distressful venture
With counsel to free your heart from gloom's pain
Saying, “Hate grips you with misadventure,”
See the roses blooming in glowing gain.”
Learn rose-thorns' lessons well, though sometimes hard;
That’s the commencement of triumphant race
Keep on trusting* God around His safeguard
Midst thorny trials to be won by grace.
Life is not a bed of roses indeed
Yet faith makes thorn-filled cross bearing succeed.
*Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
August 4, 2018
Edited on January 4, 2024
1st place, "Sonnet - Old or New" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May; judged on 1/6/2025