Long Caused Poems
Long Caused Poems. Below are the most popular long Caused by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Caused poems by poem length and keyword.
I set out to write a verse
A verse of prayer and praise
Words to worship the One
Who created me and gave to me
A sense of hope, purpose, faith
Love that lingers in my soul
Capturing the essence of joy
I set out to write my thoughts
Pertaining to my Lord
The One who caused me to love
With all my heart and soul
Without conditions, limits or terms
With everything that He gave
Appreciation, kindness and grace
I set out to give back to Him
A bit of the love He’d given me
The compassion and gentleness, the charity
That came alive with a prayer for His
Love to open up my heart
And light the spark that was hope
Abiding there within my soul
I set out to bring worship to Him
Who had brought affection to my spirit
Singing to me of dreams everlasting
On visions that whisper through my heart
Forcing me to listen to the brilliant thoughts
Discovered in the miracle of His gifts
The treasure of joy found within - through Him
I set out to live my life for Him
Despite many mistakes, sins that left me sorry
I gave my best, leaving all the rest
To bring to Him my greatest attempts to give
With a heart that appreciates His gift
Of salvation, deliverance, escape from anguish
That comes to those who do not believe
I set out to listen to the whisper
Of His still, small voice – His direction
His correction, affection and the connection
That caused me to believe in His wisdom and strength
The blessing of love so alive it could dance
Through the soul on a breath from His lips
Breathing out love so sweet it leaves pure peace
I set out to give someone a chance to see
The hope, faith and love that live inside of me
Because I took the hand of the One who died for me
And listened to the voice of my Father God
Who told me to live as if I had His heart
And could love better than I could every imagine
With a love that’s been lit by a fire of compassion
I set out to give someone joy and hope
But soon discovered that He had given me the gift
Through the wisdom that lives within
When He answers a prayer I’ve prayed
For words to give back to someone a part of me
The piece of my heart that knows
He is there, alive and wise, controlling it all
I set out to give and found… His love within my soul
Love that is my eternal goal
there's a whole lot of shaking going on and you're all shook up
but that is how life is when you drink from God's cup
life can take unexpected turns and have you all spun around
just remember who's in control and has the power to settle life down
now Paul and Silas were in prison for simply preaching the gospel
but after praying to God He then did the impossible
when life has you all shook up you need to stand back and sit still
don't be negative, have a little talk with God and then wait on His will
continue to do what is required of you and trust in God to show you a plan
for God can open new doors in a way you might not even understand
but that's okay as the word of God says to lean not towards your own understanding
but to wait for the will of God to intercede and to do what the Spirit is demanding
if you have a relationship with God He might shake up your normal routine
to take you out of your comfort zone and into a place you've never seen
it might not make much sense to you and you might even disagree
but God knows what is best when it comes to your destiny
accepted beliefs, traditional concepts and that's how it's always been done
but a whole lot of shaking will be going on and your faith may be under the gun
sop forget those accepted beliefs and let God guide you along
allow Him to shake things up and put you where He knows you belong
as no weapon formed against you will prosper nor come to fruition
allow the will of God to shake things up and put you in a better position
now the adversary also has the power to shake things up in your life
just recognize the enemy for what he is and then call on the power of Christ
a young girl who was demon possessed had caused a riot to manifest
with lies told against Paul and Silas they found themselves under arrest
but Paul and Silas did not possess the spirit of fear
for they knew that the Lord God would always be there
so at the midnight hour when all hell tends to break out
that's when to the Lord our God Paul and Silas did pray and shout
and lo and behold God answered their call
an earthquake occured and shook the prison walls
then all the cell doors flew open
and all the shackles were then broken
for when the praises to God go up the blessings of the Lord come down
and there will be a whole lot of shaking going on
but that's okay you're on sacred ground
This poem was inspired by the interviews by Earl K. Pollon and S. S. Matheson conducted with native Sekanni peoples who were negatively effected by the flooding of their communal homelands by the building of the W.A.C. Bennett Dam. “This Was Our Valley” tells that story of injustice. 640 square miles of riverfront and hunting territory would be flooded to form Williston Lake. The Sekanni peoples were driven from their ancestral homeland in northeastern British Columbia, Canada and dispersed.
The Shopping Cart Injustice
People, place and spirit
All were our relations
Biopeds, quadrupeds, winged or finned -
River language told us so.
Fishing rocks spoke the run
Where the riffles and the rapids talked.
Ancestors, dead and alive, told living stories where
Running the river banks, the children played.
The land was a book written in forms.
We made our mark with love, community
Fishing weirs, aspen dugout canoes,
Hunting trails, camps and sacred sites.
Always traders, we traded furs with
White settlers when they arrived
On the rivers Parsnip, Finlay and Peace at
Finlay Forks, Fort Grahame, Fort McLeod.
We added pack trains, teams of pack horses
River freighters, flat bottom ‘longboats’
For supplies and for mail delivery.
It seemed that we could live together.
Then one day a government agent said
That shopping carts were coming
They would flood our world
Water rising everywhere
Shopping carts with electric can openers
Full, fast to check out,
Shopping carts with electric hair blowers,
Full, faster to check out,
Shopping carts with electric air conditioners,
Full, fastest to check out
Shopping carts with electric stoves.
Check out, check out, check out.
They would make our rivers into a lake
We would move or drown.
Our elders did not believe it.
That was the only consultations!
Soon Saskatoon berries all under water
Next, the banks sloughed back to graveyards
Next, cliffs crumbled, and banks fell into rising lake
Houses of the villages slipped and floated
Coffins, bones and bodies strewed the shore
Where tangled trees, debris and more
Eddied with flotsam in the wind.
We wept for our ancestors!
We weep for our children.
We had to flee the destruction
Caused by tree grinders, D-9 bull dozers
The dam construction.
Now they want to take more
Another dam for more shopping carts.
Please stop Site ‘C’.
The day you abruptly went away,
My heart became frozen and my soul grew shades of gray,
My little eyes watched as your cadillac pulled out,
After listening to all those screams and foolish shouts,
The driveway was vacant, the house became dark,
I knew at that moment we would never again go to the park,
When I got home from school you would not be there,
I prayed to God that you would still some how care,
No one explained to me at seven years old,
That I would have to watch so much unfold,
Depression set inside that vacant place,
I no longer had that bright smile on my face,
The tire swing we built together fell apart late that June,
I would now have to learn way too soon,
How to fend for myself and take your place,
I had to fill your empty space,
I tried so hard to be like you,
Even built a tree house in honor of you,
I learned how to fix things around the house,
I even protected mom once from a mouse,
But no matter what I did,
It did not make up for me not allowed to be a kid,
Other kids got to see their dads, even when their parents got divorced,
But that wasn’t the case for me of course,
All I did was think of you, my first love had been devastatingly untrue,
The events that happened after can’t be written in just one poem,
Only God could possible have the right size thread to have sown
The chunks that life took out of me,
All because my daddy never came back to be
What every little girl desires
The protector, provider, the one who inspires
All grown up and it is now bitter sweet
For now I help other little girls whose dads caused them to have years of defeat
One day when I have my own
I will be able to set the right tone
I will be able to feed my inner child
Embrace her and enjoy what you so freely defiled
We either repeat are parent’s mistakes or do whatever we can to prevent
That generational cycle from becoming like cement
Braking it now and forgiving you
Was the best thing I could ever do
For I harbor no resentment and I have no anger
I just know that not having a father put me in a lot of danger
But I am blessed to have had my heavenly dad
He was the one who was there when I was sad
He was the one who protected me from strife,
The one who taught me how to reverse my life,
I can live free because now I see,
what you did in the end, hurt you more than it did me.
By: Sabina Nicole
Written 9/6/11
We have a tendency to focus on our flaws, despite it being what makes us human; what we despise is what one desires, and what we desire is what someone despises.
I felt this way for years; I still do- the perpetuous feeling that I’m horrendous.
When I look in my mirror, I don’t see my full lips, my long lashes, or my hourglass; I see my short legs, protruding stomach, and my eyebags.
Yet people with those flaws are beautiful- so why am I not?
The answer is that I am; I am beautiful, I am worthy, and I’m not horrendous- I simply haven’t been able to process my worth yet.
It seems that each passing year, I reflect on myself, making those negative remarks, rendering myself as unattractive.
Though, next year, I’ll look back on myself and realize how gorgeous I truly was; though it’s not that simple to prevent those negative feelings from pursuing.
Does beauty even exist, though?
It’s repeatedly changed over time, and it’s quite subjective, which has caused me to believe that true beauty doesn’t exist; it’s simply a perception.
I shouldn’t waste my time trying to ease the perceptions of others; I should follow my own, because short legs, protruding stomachs, and eyebags are beautiful; they’re only viewed in a negative way because society itself is ugly.
If I abide by every standard of others, I’ll only feel regret, for my happiness shall pulverize.
If I create myself to be someone who is healthy and who I love, my happiness shall thrive.
Though these insecurities will persist, even with the most attractive individuals- they’ll always haunt you, whether or not you believe in yourself.
So I dissected myself.
…
Carving every inch of me until my insides are out; but when I do so, my organs look the same as everyone else’s.
Bathing in perplexion until I realized; we’re all the same on the inside- and as I try to stuff my organs back inside of me, I remember what people say-
See, I’ve been told before, just like anyone else, that I’m ugly.
People take advantage of others' sensitivity in order to ease their insecurities; but they’re morons who don’t know what they’re talking about.
They try ridding of their “flaws” by projecting it on others, though those rigid thoughts will always remain inside.
But truth be told, we all have the same interior- and..
You’ll truly be happy if you stop caring about the perceptions of others.
She was something soft on the eyes something to mend his broken heart
tarring down everything she had built , was that his plan from the start.
guns were pointed and bullets were shot
he than soon realized that everything she had offered can not be bought
She picked up the broken pieces and thought to try again
thinking maybe he will love me if I tried to be a better friend.
He figured out she wouldn't give up and would continue to try
that she dropped everything in her life and he was the only thing in her eyes
miserable nights turned into unproductive days
she continued on with this cycle not questioning how she stays
Her expressions became empty and her friends started to worry
always the same answer with a smile as her eyes would get blurry
The bruises left on her heart became to show on her skin
stopped going out in public as much and people would ask where she's been
the truth couldn't come out so her lips formed more lies
how could she explain that this is all caused by just one guy..
He would tell her he loved her and that she was the one
that when things would get better it would go back to being fun
months went by and her stomach started to grow as the weeks went
by and more and more bruises continued to show.
She sat him down one night and stared into his eyes
She said " once this baby is born I will say my goodbyes"
He laughed in her face knowing she would never leave
that even if she did she would come back from the grief.
The bigger she got the more they would fight
now her soul seemed broken and her light not so bright
The due date came and she gave birth to their son
made secret plans to pack their bags and just run
the words he spit got worse and the punches got harder
She tried to keep in line just the way he had taught her
The love she once had turned into a large amount of hate
endless nights of worry wondering if this is her fate
she refused for her son to witness this any longer
that she would gain the strength for both of them and be stronger
another night but this time he came back to no one around
couldn't smell anything and didn't hear a single sound
She never looked back and slowly started to learn how to smile
her son needed her and he's needed her for a while.
She had taught herself a valuable lesson that sometimes its worse to stay
because living each day in misery just isn't the way.
The sun peeks his face out from the passing wind
still chilly and cold, and in this air the tree branches
stretch their arms to hold the sun as if sails on the deep and gray sky
The sun that is out of reach of a hand
may be a hope; no, it ought to be a hope
One night I saw a wayfarer, becoming a moonbeam,
going toward April stepping on the footmarks March
has left behind
Although he has gone through so many hills and high waters
with a knapsack on his back that was full with the countless
sentiments he put in it for pity’s sake, the sack was emptied;
for the lapse of time makes things wear and tear
his garment was worn to rags, and when the wind
passes through it penetrates the garment to chill the bone
The deep anxiety he is unable to shake off, and therefore,
reflected on the running water murmuring through the field
as ripples of moonbeam, which is not from the fleeting of time
or his sufferings while he was walking among the foes, but because
he is sorry for and worries about friends he has to leave behind
The friends, not many in number shared his happiness
at the time of banqueting, surrounding the table though
plain and simple, abundance in God;
at the time counting the falling stars lying on a stone pillow
by the gap between rocks. The friends, not in damnation but
in endurance and warmhearted understanding, talked about better day to come while burning the passions in the bone fire on a day when they were wet and shivering in early spring drizzle
For the days he was with his friends were too short,
it caused him an embarrassment in counting the days,
yet they were unforgettable moments of joyous and happy experiences
As he walked through the field with friends he talked about tomorrow
standing on the hill top side by side, he asked them to pray for him,
sitting on the sands by the water he sighed for he has to leave
the friends, the sweet and bitter memories behind
Nonetheless, he cannot just stand by a roadside as an emotionless stone,
he crosses the hill under the shade of a waning moon, and when
the humble hearted teary-eyed wanderer blooms as a lily on the other side of
the hill in dawning, the sunray fall on the lily on the dew
as hope to those who remember him, as happiness to the friends
he left behind, as the covenant of the Lord to all who trust in him
May it not be uttered and may my lips be sealed. I don't like how it makes me feel. It gives no thrill. It has no appeal. So often, it does not heal and seldom closes the deal. Early this morning, I took the time to record a few lines of muse about a word I don't like to use.
I have often thought about the people I have met and the places I have roamed and made my home over the last 50 years. Many are the things, people, and places that have proven to be most disappointing and have wearied, worn me out, and caused me doubts. There've Been dejections, rejections, and questions, but as I look back, I see no regrets.
I have used a 7-letter word so often that it has become a dreadful thing to consider its usefulness. I should think that heaven is the only place such a word is forever forbidden. Presently, that word is NOT WHAT I'M SAYING to you, you, or anyone else and hope to never find it necessary. But if by chance or providence it should be used relative to anyon9 Ie, it would be among the hardest words I ever uttered to living mortals. I've been as far east as the Big Apple but not to stay; and forty years ago, I came with my wife and kids to live in the City by the Bay. I hasten to say that I've never lived longer nor loved stronger than here in the River City where I only want to say the the 2 lettered word 'Hi' but never the 7 lettered
woord, "Goodbye". I can say "Hi" with a smile, but "Goodbye" only makes me cry.
People say that home is where your story begins, but I've never been one to be bound by what others might say. I only know that the place where I was born was never home to me. I tell you, I did not have to look long and far nor think Hard and deep to figure out whom I might blame for the calm, peace, and poise that I am feeling where I live today. Yes, there is something very special about the people and this place where I'm living today that feels like home to me, and I suspect that The Lord has everything to do with it.
042620PS
I have something precious that money cannot buy, no matter how hard you try to convince me that money can make me happy, I would be living a lie if I sit by your side without a dime in my purse and continue to work in the dirt, that is not what I mean, I need the money to fulfill a part of my dream but it cannot make me happy.
I still cannot believe that it is true, that you have searched the whole world through and you could not find a single one that you can understand, and when the nights gets cold you wrap a towel around your soul and walked out in the snow and let the night air penetrates your skin and somewhere in the universe, your soul mate is playing a different rhythm.
I just cannot hold back the tears, when I check your hang out spot and see that you are not there. I have waited so long for you to come and the daily wait makes me feel like a village on the run, wasted time cannot be regained and the long wait has cause me so much pain; I don’t know if I will ever live the life that I was destined to live, other than the life that has caused me so much pain and misery.
Sometimes I feel like a clown sailing between the clouds, moving from cities to town, avenues and streets singing songs of yesterday while I watch the people go astray and the clock keeps ticking away.
I have orbit the globe more than a hundred times, searching for something that is on my mind. I think about it from time to time and I just cannot erase it from my mind. Shall I wait for you here or shall I wait at another place, I have waited here from sunrise to sun down and still you have not come around, I no number to call or the address for the city hall, I will let nature follow the course and when the time I will go through the door and hold destiny by its hand.
I thought we had an understanding of a mutual deal in the making and the binding contract that cannot be broken, why am I still here waiting; there must have been some misunderstanding, if you listen carefully you can hear the musical strings singing they are in perfect harmony.
I will force myself from underneath the clouds and go out and buy some new clothes and change the place where I stay for a new promotion is coming my way. I will wait for a few more days and if you don’t come I will go my own way and I hope that we will cross path someday.
She was sold for three trillion dollars.
What on earth is going on over there, do you have something to share, what on earth is going on over there, you are acting as if you don’t care. Is there any good news for us? Is there any recipe in the cook book? She always has something new to cook.
There is food in the pantry but the drain is clogged up, you have to get the technician to remove the plug before the day is done so that you can get the food from the pantry.
The wine is fine but there are few berries on the vine. You have got to put in a new crop before the autumn ushers in. They have the grain, the water and the drain; they just need a helping hand to clear the land.
The drums are leaving the town and the villains are homeward bound, the oligarchs are surveying the place and the customers are running all over the place. Everyone is looking for the best price before they roll the production dice. The season for the “bleeding” can be so demanding when you have twenty meetings in one day and nothing positive is coming your way. Negative energy will make you sick, and kinetic energy will throw you off the cliff.
Oh, I almost forget the shares; India has rice and beans to spare some people dislike the frosting on the cake because some flavors are out of date.
The Indian rice is white and it is piling up to the sky, the people will starve to death if you don’t act before the break of Dawn.
Narendra Modi, the King of the East must gather his administration in front of the beast, to discuss the rice ban before starvation devastates the land.
We don’t understand the reason for the ban, is it to purge the bad people from the land? You cannot allow the good to suffer for the bad or you will leave the entire world sad.
Prime Minister Modi is a good man and he need all the rice to feed the 1.4 billion people on his land .
This has caused some disruption in the global supply market. This is what you should do to protect the horse and the shoe. Export half of your rice to the globe and keep the other half to nourish your people’s soul.
You can add an extra dollar to the price to compensate for the ruthless sacrifice, consult your loyal customers and apologize for the rice ban.
You must put the politics aside and serve the people with much delight. Send the people to plant more rice and rescind the global rice ban, Prime Minister Modi…lift the rice ban.