Long Brian Poems
Long Brian Poems. Below are the most popular long Brian by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Brian poems by poem length and keyword.
Marvelous scenes of wondrous existence
amidst the Lord’s loving omnipotence!!!
Such would joyously flash before my eyes…
there am I in God’s blessed competence.
Basking in the grace of the Sovereign
meaningful survival along faith gain!!!
Such would peacefully flash before my sight…
there am I praying to conquer woes’ pain.
Gratefully exalting the Almighty
singing in melodious joviality!!!
Such would triumphantly flash before me…
there am I worshiping with purity.
Faithful toward productive stewardship
serving the Master by His leadership!!!
Such would brightly flash before my being…
there am I reaching-out through His friendship.
Granted with Christ’s eternal life* goodness
securely guarded against wickedness!!!
Such would surely flash before my heart’s lens…
there am I forever in God’s kindness.
*1John 5:13 These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God; that ye may know that ye have eternal life, and that ye may believe on the name of the Son of God.
December 1, 2021
Edited on December 31, 2021
1st place, "A STRAND (1046)" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/6/2022.
My laptop is a very pretty shade of purple,
I open her top gently and dust off her keys;
Calmly I press the start key and wait patiently,
And I wait patiently composed in myself and full of hope.
I am humming when at last I am connected,
The internet is before me and I am on my way;
And then it happens, "internet connection lost,"
Oh gosh and darn it I start the whole process once again.
And again and again I try but not quite so calmly,
Okay finally here we go I am on my way to creating;
On my way to poetry soup and to writing a poem,
And then it happens, "poetry soup is not responding."
I am ready to throw the computer out the window,
I scream at my laptop, "your usefulness is used up;"
Off I go to have a tea and to smooth my feathers,
Then return to find kitty asleep on the KEYS !
____________________________________
(March 22, 2015) Edit, December 26, 2019
Poetry/Light Verse/Patience is the KEY
Copyright Protected, ID 15-1211-692-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted into the contest, Strand Special 10
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
If I have the time, I’ll wait eons, to greet you in scarlet dawn
As you marvel its vermillion garb embossing marigold arc
Emanating golden sparks, piercing hazy contours of dark
While gilded ripples glisten pond, where floats a snazzy swan.
Listen I’ll, to the music of morn, in songs of gentle breeze
Quivering new growth on barren trees where chickadees sing
Shedding dread of winter, in adoration of vibrant spring
As you thrill in waltzing hills, where green conifers wheeze.
Ambling through idyllic meadows of my coveted dreams
I’ll emerge in gilt-sunshine on silken petals glinting dew
Where pink and purple rosy blooms enliven to enchant you--
Meeting you where giggling streams glitter in amber beams.
By your side in a quiet spot, I’ll watch the sparrows fly by
Hopping from branch to branch in euphoric random dance
Scurrying suddenly in curvy flight, inviting your glance
Celebrating freedom, flying high, into expansive blue sky,
And compose a chapter of doting allegory in romantic glory
Lingering in hearts where cadent verses of desires sway
Turning up the tempo, letting life’s ravishing rhythms play
As hours and days accumulate slowly, into eternal love-story.
December 17, 2019
Placed 1st: If you have the time for an enclosed rhyme poetry contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
HM: Strand select 10 contest by Brian Strand
crazy of me
living with your lie
to expect of thee
that you might somehow see
you are my special guy
how silly can I be
how insane of me
to expect you to try
I'm sure you must agree
to believe in thee
without a bit of why,
expecting honesty
un-apologetically
figuring out good bye
setting you gloriously free
how crazy of me taking the road so high
knowing how selfish you can be,
to think that you ever thought of me.
Written December 15, 2018 Contest: Mid January 2018
Any Theme
Sponsor: Brian Strand
In one-hundred years, might things be as bad
as people guess? I’d like to think at last
that peace prevails. Instead of being sad -
that people share! All fear is in the past!
Perhaps we’ll be invaded by a race
of aliens who teach us how to love -
and how all poverty we can erase.
Far more advanced, they will have plenty of
good things beyond our own technology
to help us meet our needs and cure disease.
Who knows? Perhaps my great-grandchildren see
a “brave new world,” where all live life with ease.
And if I’m lucky, I will not be dead
if miracles invade our world instead!
June 4, 2018 for Brian Davey's In 100 Years Poetry Contest
When the birds stop singing
and the sitar stops playing,
When joy of life begins to betray
and morning fog won't go away,
When days of sunshine dissipate
and nights choose to stay awake,
When heart sounds alarm bells
and life feels like a living hell,
When love regrets happy moments
and desires languish in atonement,
When we lose our happy face
and fill it up with awful rage,
When every deed's like a final act
as if we never had a solid pact,
Ask not why we waited so long
let's belong, our love's so strong,
Let go the burdens of the past
vow to usher a brand new start,
Grief will depart, let's do our part
I beg you, let me into your heart.
August 20, 2017
First Place: Let me into your heart contest by Julie Rodeheaver
HM: Strand select G contest by Brian Strand
Lady Bird
Though not a lady
nor even is she a bird
But she's the most
exquisite beauty
ever seen
though never heard
Her coat of ruby red
‘tis almost designer
one could have said
With small black polka dots galore
This gorgeous creature I adore
Sometimes she walks across my floor
Multi-talented this gal in red
flying on hidden wings out spread
The dots upon here ruby coat
Some say will tell her age
This is untrue
It tells her species
For there are very many
A beauty in red
Impossible to perceive
an insect is she
a beetle I believe
One of five thousand species
munching aphids she sees
for breakfasts
for dinners
and even for teas
This lady in red
she is so well fed
Farmers welcome
with open arms
She can eat 50 aphids
on farms each day
keeping those pesky creatures away
But to me she is something quite special
This beautiful Lady in Red
Queen of all beetles
When I see her
I want to touch her
and gently stroke
her ruby red coat
My favorite beetle
She makes me gleeful
thus forever to me
she will always be
A beautiful Lady in Red
Written 13th April 2022
Contest A BRIAN STRAND PREMIER CHOICE
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
Contest Your Second Chance 2nd Submission
Sponsor Sotto Poet
2nd PLACE
Poetry Soup Is…
A place to post words and be heard
a platform for prose, a poet’s eatery
A sonneteer’s palace, for the sagacious or the absurd
A silver chalice that pours golden poetry
Rhymed and skillfully quilled
Artful rhythmic compositions, sublimely finished
Inspirational ink spilled,
authentic and unblemished
Poetry Soup Is…
Ramen in a cup
Slurp up noodles of literary lines grand
or footles so clever that never end
by Brian Strand
Sensual scribbles we sup,
Miraculous moving messages
Tasty spiritual nibbles
Share Zen in a bowl
Pho ga is chicken and
miso broth for the soul,
Inspirational Ink that takes
the breath away
Tsunami of wisdom
Confusion, and disarray
Poetry Soup Is…
Sovereign power poets, feud they may
Both mixes are needed, Sweet and Sour
Poe “The Raven” guy and Longfellow to my dismay
We become seeded, behind the pen there’s power,
We allude to epic ballad chowder
Gently add an attitude to an articulate mind
Pink sea salt, red chili powder
With crushed white pepper be kind
Without comparison where would we be?
It was George Harrison, his plagiarism
My Sweet Lord, to another’s tune he’d copy
Poetry Soup Is…
We came aboard this friendship—fleet liner
All that’s needed is a gift of language
And we have a thick savory brothy soup diner
Harmonic words woven together
It takes me a bit longer than most to write
of unrequited love and forevers
Botch it up I might, it’s swim or sink!
For a brain to pick such as mine
I should have used the days wiser
Tells of withered wasted time, I think
I thank my lucky stars
I am a verse improviser
I will reach my roots deep
into the solid mass of Earth,
down into the sweet concrete of life.
Beside a blue rippling stream I will rest
and birds will make their nest in my branches.
A gentle wind will whisper through my emerald
and I will stand a proud and strong and solid soul.
No storm will ever topple me from my firm foundation,
no ax will find me as I am hidden deep in a tangled woods.
Only the sun and clouds know my name when I call to them.
At my base purple violets grow each Spring it seems,
and in the Fall I am so lovely with my leaves of ruby red.
Oh yes, I love my winter coat of soft snow white and ice,
But in Spring, oh Spring that is when my roots go deep,
deeper and deeper, further and further in the soil.
And I am mighty and I am strong all summer long,
listening to the sweet chirping and twittering
of baby birds and the touch of butterflies.
Perhaps, you will find me,
and come rest
beneath me
one day
just you
me
and shade
on a warm summer day.
_________________________
March 24, 2018
Poetry/Concrete/Tree
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1306-908-24
All Rights Reserved, 2018, Constance La France
Submitted in the Standard contest, A Strand (1056)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 01/21/2022
First Place
A broken-hearted lady shuts her eyes
and summons forth sweet scenes from days long past.
She loved him so. His promises gave rise
to firm assurances their love would last.
“But that was then and this is now!” she cries.
They’d planned to wed and have a family,
watch proudly as their kids met with success,
then age together peacefully. The key
to bliss was love. They’d claim their happiness.
But that was then, and this is now, you see.
She feels so old, though she’s just thirty-two.
She entertains no hopes that she will find
someone to share her life. She’s bid adieu
all thoughts of kids. THEN-dreams she’s left behind,
for this is NOW. She nurses her bleak view.
********************
She feels so young as she walks down the aisle
at thirty-nine. There is no need to wait
to claim the life she’s dreamed about. Her smile
says, “This is now”; and it is not too late.
The blight of THEN has been gone for a while.
January 21, 2019, written for and entered in Silent One's That Was Then and This Is Now Contest--placed 2nd
January 31, 2019, entered in Mark Toney's Poetry Marathon, Mile 14
February 2, 2019, entered in Brian Strand's Early February contest
Placed 1st
April 30, 2019, entered in John Lawless's Crap Shoot Poetry Contest
Placed 6th (of ten)