Long Blight Poems
Long Blight Poems. Below are the most popular long Blight by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blight poems by poem length and keyword.
I look in your eyes
what do I see
A shell of myself
who I used to be
A minuscule fragment
of who I was before
When red carpet
stretched out across my floor
A day and time
opportunities, abundant
Long before I became
hopelessly redundant
I see an array of patches
from my many mistakes
My eyes tell a story
of painful heartaches
A veil across my skin
of wrinkles and cellulite
Shards from the past
when my future was bright
Bags under my eyes
from restless nights
Not dead, but a disgrace
I've become a blight
My once white teeth
Now a yellowish tint
Thanks to years of smoking
to relax and vent
I despise you
for what you reveal to me
You show me ugly
and how it feels to be
Unheeding of the causes
for my bruises and scars
You show only the top layer
worn and charred
You are so vain
with your spotless surface
Come to think of it
you really serve no purpose
You make people conceited
More often, depressed
It doesn't effect you at all
you feel no distress
You hold your head high
As if your invincible
No one dare break you
Superstition or principal
But I can see through
As clear as glass
You have no soul
Just useless mass
You're a thief of identities
Because you haven't, your own
No personality to claim
An ever changing clone
Not a person or a place
Just a thing
With nothing to give
Nothing to bring
There will come a day
You will shatter to pieces
Your frame will fall apart
At the perfectly painted creases
There will be no memorial
They will trash your remains
No one will miss you
A thing without a name
Written: January 27, 2024
________________________________________
"Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you. Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open? Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking".
Oh, a flimsy state over grief, issues, and dualism.
How do I find the inner sanctum of nihilism?
As the guillotine of deceit hangs in plain sight,
How tempting are laziness, ease, and blight?
True divine tandem can occur at a sacred site.
An inner haven as you dwell in glory and light
Yield the path to connecting with the infinite.
In an inner sanctum, calm flows over divine might.
Bewilderment seems sporadic at first glance.
Once you've linked culprits, anguish may trance.
I succumb when the climate renders them unwell.
Cluttered mounds of breadcrumbs lead to a swell.
Ascending free from ominous pits of dread,
Seeking trust across awareness lies ahead.
Sensing the heavenly spark that will soothe,
Illuminating the path leading to the truth.
Stillness enhances your perception of taste.
Find the light; the climate seems to be quaint.
How subtly do things reverse disastrous?
I often fall into that abyss, myself in vastness.
The stain of low scorn darkens in midst of trust.
I stroll into the dismal clay of scarlet excess dust.
The ruthless grasp buried inside suffocates life.
In empathy, I endure the agonizing pains of strife.
Invest oneself in each mission and excursion.
These wonderful events allow for sensations.
Mercury is in and out of phase, as is the moon.
Be mindful of your tongue. The lips are strewn.
Flawed sensory acumen of a stray mind,
uncovers a spiritual path within a gild divined.
The inner sanctum door unlocks at that sight.
While the tulip blossoms with glorious light.
The soul sparkles with astral splendor and sequins.
In a hallowed realm, where rays serve as beacons
In my self-searching dedication toward eternity.
Inward cosmic trends enrich my trust earnestly.
1st place contest winner / POTD
Bound by love
~
"I sense your essence in the breeze
my alleviation found in perfection-
I knew the pain of loss and despair you carried with ease;
sweetheart, you are my perpetual connection,
saturated in loneliness were you-
the wind blows, and gusts prevail,
black ravens plague this existence,
as the tempest rages in warm rains,
they know how our love does outshine with flickering light-
weeping in the forsaken land of my desolated heart’s remains;
intense obscurity of the calamity I faced before you attains-
yet you stay with me, longing for my hopelessness to cease,
your genuine adoration still sustains
never cursed or full of deep blight;
and…
a million fairytales tremble at us,
sounds of swift ivory doves cry out,
emerging from the dust I was found
descending onto my grateful knees-
for I am but a man craving to be near you for all of eternity-
fleeting into the ebon night; for our love loses not insight,
I embrace you…you hold me tight
and I shall feel this pure affection or you, my beloved…eternally,
bound by love and affection”
10/02/19
For: Lu’s Poem Switcha-Roo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Lu loo
When my heart allows God’s love to prevail
while exuding kindness so blest
smiting selfishness
conquering greed and envy…
…then care's radiance glows bright.
As my soul seeks for divine grace
always vibrant despite gloom of fear
to vanquish despair
triumphing over worry…
…then faith champions prayer-wonders.
Since my spirit thrives midst hope
to soothe anguish and ache of guilt
freeing mind from frustration-failure
to bring joy with pardon bliss…
…then courage serves as inspiration that cheers.
While my commitment for good works* abounds
as the Lord’s mercy shines with delight
toward grateful exuberance
showcasing worshipful praise…
...then devotion to reach-out keeps on despite limitations.
Whenever my well-being continues to consider others' welfare
while aware of human nature blight
acknowledging own faults and mistakes
toward personal growth along transformation-progress...
...then fulfillment of victorious existence testifies dependence upon the Creator.
*1Corinthians 15:58 Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.
edited on May 28, 2026
3rd place, "Twilight of my Life" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 5/29/2026
Midst Monday bouts in work arena
knocking body with fatigue angst…
God’s victory* strengthens my faith to keep pressing on.
Though Tuesday schedule seems to fail
frustrating mind against planning zest…
The Lord revives my spirit as a warrior marching forward.
When Wednesday pursuits become futile
with routine turning toward torturous ennui…
Christ rejuvenates my soul against insistent boredom.
Trying Thursday times intensified by deadline pressure
test patience succumbing to fruitlessness’ blight…
The Saviour props my commitment for life-building endeavours.
Frustrating Friday obscures sublime vision
while carnality attacks what is divine…
Light of the Sovereign illumines my heart, seeking what’s heavenly.
Sometimes, Saturday tempts with slothfulness’ convenience
bringing guilt of worthlessness’ pangs…
Forgiving Master offers help, empowering my zeal for faithful service.
Since Sunday expectations shout sincere worship
unmasking hypocrisy, reproving skepticism and doubt…
The Holy Ghost* grips my trust, hoisting it by His grace and love.
*1Corinthians 15:57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
(This “busy week” has made me weary; and I thank the Lord for enabling me to make it… to be able to sing “It is no Secret What God Can Do” during our ministry live broadcast.)
July 4, 2020
1st place, "STRAND completely new (5) any theme any form" Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 7/6/2020.
If I proclaim to love the Lord
but hate my fellowman,
the Bible says I'm lying. Love,
not hate, is in His plan.
Bad attitudes towards others
if they're fueled day and night,
soon morph into destructive hate,
a vitriolic blight.
Though love can be so powerful,
hate can be just as strong.
We don't like to admit sometimes
our feelings are so wrong.
We choose to sugarcoat the truth
when hate is in our hearts.
We cling to euphemisms
while we throw our poison darts.
Sometimes we're hypocritical,
refusing to confess
to sins like hate; yet we still think
the Lord will surely bless!
Those motivated by ill will
will never know true peace.
They'll moan throughout a friendless life
and find no sweet release.
I embrace you … you hold me tight,
sounds of swift ivory doves cry out-
fleeting into the ebon night; for our love loses not insight,
never cursed or full of deep blight;
a million fairytales tremble at us,
they know how our love does outshine with flickering light . . .
black ravens plague this existence,
saturated in loneliness were you-
yet, you stayed with me, longing for my hopelessness to cease,
descending onto my grateful knees;
I sense your essence in the breeze,
I know the pain of loss and despair you carried with ease . . .
as the tempest rages in warm rains,
the winds blows, and gusts prevail-
emerging from the dust I was found,
weeping in the forsaken land of my desolated heart’s remains
your genuine adoration still sustains
intense obscurity of calamity I faced before you attains . . .
sweetheart, you are my perpetual connection,
for I am a woman craving to be near you for all of eternity-
bound by love and affection
my alleviation found in perfection
and I shall feel this pure affection for you, my beloved eternally
and . . .
oh . . . my beloved darling I have tried so hard,
to go on without you in my life -
but you call my name each night over and over and over, you call me;
so, I stand with a dagger at your eternal tomb,
ready to thrust it- into my broken heart . . .
_________________________
September 8, 2019
Poetry/Verse/Shattered Love
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1179-372-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Lu's Poem Switcher Roo
sponsor, Lu Loo
Second Place
Insufficient Containerization
(My Campaign Platform for 2016)
Litter is out of control in these here United States
An un-Godly blight on the landscape, home of the free
This is a disgrace and shame on this fine country
What do other nations think?
Why; they think we are a bunch of heathen pigs
I will not promise a chicken in every pot
Or a VW in every garage to drive
We suffer from insufficient containerization
A criminal crime of the dirtiest kind
As your next president in two thousand sixteen
I vow to clean up this catastrophe with containers
There will be a trash receptacle in every school
Every business and home and on the moon
Trash cans will be strapped on the backs of all citizens
Visitors will wear plastic bags as their only apparel
Wars and all other matters will have to wait
Let’s clean up the world before it’s too late
Insufficient containerization must stop today
Vote for me in two thousand sixteen
Trash cans are your salvation
And I am the only solution
Winter’s hoar…frost..
has bled the maples
Crimson, marks
the torn throat of morn.
Summer’s sullen forays
have scared the natural
blush of Fall.
Would the wood recover
from the toxic fumes of man?
Radiant the sun which bombs
the atmosphere, a blight of cancer
upon the uncloaked skin…
Mutant and mutating man
warring harbinger of doom.
Where sand and soil
and microbes had cleansed
the refuse of man waits…
clogging the arteries of bipeds
overflowing into the roots of forest
Unarmed
Rooted
Clinging
to the seed of an apothecary life.
Feeding on the vials unturned
draining into the Fall finery
a mottled military camouflage
sickly green, to burnt brown emerges.
And all that’s left of life
bleeds with the maple.
Crimson, marks
the torn throat of morn.
When the time comes for inspiration
they begin to look for some introspection.
Then we put to paper an encryption
of the words in our imagination.
When the writer begins to write
he hopes the words come out right.
Sometimes he has to fight
so his page will not be fraught with blight.
Sometimes the words can come with such ease,
the pen to paper without a tease.
The writer doesn't even know if he's
putting into words imagery that will please.
Some like Rhyme or Haiku
Free Verse or Sonnets others may do.
Whatever his words may come to
the written emotions are now all true.
To continue his work is a must
upon it the words can have no rust.
All he can do is shake off the dust
and in his words, put all of his trust.
When others read them they may not agree
for each in his own way the words will see.
I know the thing that fills my writing with glee
is that the emotions and words...have come from me.