Long Bittered Poems
Long Bittered Poems. Below are the most popular long Bittered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bittered poems by poem length and keyword.
Chilled the January air
shaken and stirred by suffused zephyr winds
shimmering icy foam gurgled frigid in the froth
singing, swirling, whining tempest
lathered howling squeals thru the trees;
naked skeletons undressed by winter fall
gasping breaths guttural involuntary convulsions
tempestuous tease in tornadic twinning gales
breathless mistrals meandering the trades
slipping and sliding along the fluid swells
agitated gesticulated waves palpitating
screech screams, squealing squawking shrieks
raw bittered bites breaching lung and sinew
merciless rigor of glacial numbing
the piercing northeaster yowls
ascending surge of winter awakening rise.
It was the hurt that made him good, from beginning to end as all things should.
It was his loss that made him great, and from his pain, kindness escaped.
It was a hole inside that made him wise, left to nurture light, where the darkness hides.
It was rejection he feared, but most of all, his acceptance of others could stay their falls.
His loneliness crept in a broken mind, yet his hands, still mend, all they find.
He was an empty shell, a barren husk, he abstained each day from drink and lust.
He was neither bold, nor loud, or proud, yet when he spoke, silent went the crowd.
It was his joy they could not break, his laughter, made rebellion, for their mistake.
He was greater still, for all they'd done, his resolve now tempered, by those who shunned.
He became a light, as bright as day, it warmed the bones, for smiles he craved.
He became a hero, and he had no shame, no desire for wealth, nor compromise, or fame.
They tried, they tried a thousand times, to make him feel, his kindness crimes.
They kicked and punched, that soul to death, yet still it rose to be it's best.
It was the hurt that made him good, from beginning to end, as all things should. For we cannot know what dwell inside, let hope transcend where ego die, where boys made men, and soul survives. For he had not... bittered well....
Instead...he found himself whole...
Me father was a collier, worked Harton off the coast
Though he rattled from the coal dust he was whiter than a ghost
But the one thing that reviled him in his God-forsaken post
Was the torment of the pit ponies who he'd love and trust the most.
Shetlands worked the low seams, Gallers the big pit
And they toiled in dust and danger in the darkness and the grit
Blinkered up between the limbers, heaving coal, tubs full of it
Were the brave young beasts of burden, all a-frothing at the bit.
And Blackie was a strong 'un, he'd been down since '34
But he earned the lads good bonus so they worked him more and more
Till the weight buckled his legs and he stumbled to the floor
And he just laid there a-panting, all a-choking in his craw.
Ah me Da would bring them sugar and share with them his bait,
Now his mind was torn with fury and his heart was filled with hate
So raging black with anger he made the butchers wait
And he vowed he'd take the pony back up with him in the crate
Then Da's no longer digging, they locked him up you see,
For misappropriating mineowners property,
But you cannot cage a conscience, he'd set the brave one free,
From the bittered, blackened hellhole that had been his slavery..
Now Blackie's in the meadow with horses by his side
When the miners bring their children down he takes them for a ride
And he passes by the pithead and the place he nearly died
And he brays a silent prayer for the others still inside
For the broken, bloodied ponies and the tears yet to be cried
There's torment in them ponies down the mine, Hear me well, lad
There's torment in them ponies down the mine, Hear me well, lad
There's torment in them ponies down the mine.
HEAR ME SING THIS IN CONCERT ON YOUTUBE: 'Louis Spence.Ballard of Blackie'
THANK YOU.
Of love Devine
Now a soured story
Of love regrets that
Storys thyn
Mercy me :my rightous glory
Oh then shall sing of
Love Devine
With to one, ah one sided
Story
Love of Christ, thy a world
Subblined
Generations sing this story
Our Christ has risen from
the grave
Toils I make in all his glory
Some may say I am a
Bittered slave
Rewards from God
In all my glory
My descipns, now
all behave
Jesus , Jesus, Precious Jesus
The rich , the poor all
Behave
Jesus, Jesus, oh Precious Jesus
the miracles , Christ rose
From the grave
Have within thy triumph stories
Glory to thy God Devine
Yet ye speaketh with Satan's
Glory
Oh Folk of Christ might us all
Behave
Jesus, Jesus, ah steadfasted
Glory, victory Christ rose from
the grave
Jesus, Jesus, our triumph and
Glory,
Precious Jesus we all behave!
Oh dove of Christ complete thy story
Mire as I knowest not details
My affords of peace and glory
May off end the peace I seek
Jesus, Jesus of peace and glory
Seek thyn end in peaceful ways!
Hear me out
I am that soul
In the midst of darkness
Alone and forgotten
By my shadows
Ignored by the spirits
Seperated from the light
Left alone by the cross road
Confuse disappointed degraded
I bleed I cried I wept
I screamed
Yet to no avail
Hear me out
I can't burry myself in darkness
So there must be a light
I was bittered before
But now I found my ways
I started to rise
Cos I can't remain in the dark
I kept moving despite
I hurt my self
I was determined to reach
The end of the tunnel
I excluded fear
And that was the source
Of my survival
Finally after the pains
After the agony
After the failure of life
My morning was full of light
So hear me now
No matter were you are
In life
Get up stand up
Keep moving
You will get there
Just like I did
If you got an heavy heart now please
Hear me out