Long Chain Poems
Long Chain Poems. Below are the most popular long Chain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chain poems by poem length and keyword.
I wanted to be alone tonight,
to shuffle my thoughts in the ocean's breeze,
when the sun sets sail, with the lights going out
While I search the sky, in my solitude
and ponder my place in the scheme of things...
I wonder again, how I fit within...
How the dreams I dream, and my many wiles,
fit into the human chain
In my lone meditation, there rises a sigh
with a windswept aria, reaching my ears......
while one turtle I had noticed, is unmooring itself,
heading back to the ocean, without hesitation
not asking for much, not even for reason why
I watch him slowly swagger along, no rush to marry a shell with the sea
And envy how strong the urge can be, knowing his place in the throng
His cares are so few, and with years to go, such tenacity captures me
I wanted tonight, to be alone with thoughts, alone to doubt
alone with my questions, and alone with my fears
To hover in the shell, in the cave of my tears
To ponder my place here among the stars.....
Of time and space, the archaic shores
Unmooring myself, across the sands
If the turtle can see it, then I'm not alone
in this span of a life, there is a journey long...
a destiny that the nomad just knows
__________________________________
7/28/14 For Cyndi's Contest: "Turtles"
We are now in the dark times once more, where slavery has put a chain around our necks. You are rejoicing over my death because of my black skin...it’s painful to think that someone only sees the colour of my skin and not who I am.
I can't understand why you would judge me because of my skin... the God that created you, created me, all men are created equal...so many treat a dog better than a black man. I am scared to think my neighbors in this era still believe I should be lynched because of my black skin. I now walk in fear waiting for my death just because you think you are better than I am, racism is now the order of the day so I am waiting on you to put a bullet to my skull. The real shackles are around your thinking. You are enslaved by your thoughts.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." Dr. King’s dream has no real meaning because you are still sightless, trapped without vision... you’re in utter darkness. Helen Keller is right " The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision"
Do you ever wonder if you're alone?
We're simply here in a world of "unknown"
Do you ever walk miles just to hear your steps?
Going on journeys and missions --- but never actually finishing a project?
Always second-guessing --- always second-best
Or think you know it all --- but everyone's unimpressed?
Or try to do your own thing and get caught in someone else's web
Then all of a sudden, you're no longer a celeb
The world takes it's natural turn and everyone has bad days
Wondering how in your life right now --- you'll end up pulling out of this phase?
The funk I've been in is breaking inside of my heart
But I stick it out and bear with it --- until it decides to depart
So many thoughts are scattered inside my brain
Concentrating on the falling warm rain
I take a deep breath and I try to start over once again insane
Until I am forever free from this created ball and chain...
DOOR OF NO RETURN
The story of fathers we tell,
Chained, beating, walking in desert land.
Moving down the coast,
To the door of no return,
Saying goodbye to their beautiful soul.
Their heart melts with pain,
Tears of blood in their eye,
no help from anyone.
Walking in desert,
No water to drink,
Their strength fail them.
Them get to monument statue,
The door of no return.
Watch the ocean waiting for the ship
To depart,
Saying goodbye to their soil
Where then were born,
To the land, there know not.
The merchant price them like fishes,
The merchant select them like weavils
Found in bean.
The girls satisfy their masters
Emotional desire,
Our father cried like women
Due to torture.
Some move on like soldier
To the strange land,
Other chose death
Strangling themselves with their
Chain.
Some chose to joint d fishes in
The ocean.
Wake up
Stop dreaming
Hear the birds chirping
Thank God for the blessings
Each breath is a gift
Breathe in
Focus on your role
Hit the core with a heart of gold
Stay low-key, no time to envy
Seek discipline
Kneel to the Man who never sinned
Son of God, the true King of kings
The wind is blowing and the rain drop on your skin
Your soul is roaring with the sound of thunder and lightning
Here comes the rainbow
Oh feel the evening breeze
Look at that sunset
The heavens declare His Glory
Shine in the Dark
The moon and the night sky reflect fire in your eyes
So wake up and blaze them up
Yeah, we've been astray, deceived and betrayed
Embrace the pain
Be born again
Break the chain
Tend and mend the broken to be the unshaken
Yeah, do or die, you and I, heads held high
Look, morning star His Art is so great
Let's drive through the blue fifth-mile street
Reviving our souls with the sound of gospel beat
Roll down the window
Can you feel the morning breeze?
Here comes the sunrise
The heavens declare His Glory
Shine in the Dark
In the misty realm of being, where thought finds rest,
There lies an ancient corridor winding with longing,
Concealing at its end the door to an unexplored, mystical room,
Upon whose walls echo the secretive chant of a spring's source.
This door, untraveled, scorned by the rust of time,
Stands still, guarding over a garden of quiet wanderings,
It finely discriminates between the thicket of sorrowful delirium
And the fervent self-discovery that beckons from restless hearts.
Mystical keeper of the porch where light and shadow play,
It whispers a call to set aside the masks deeply embraced,
The metaphor of the door remains poised to unlock the temple's dare,
When the bolt is broken, the chain of fear shattered, falling aside, distanced.
It, a gate without locks, splits the two worlds, stretching as a bridge,
Beyond which dwells that silence, mute, untouchable, eternal,
A mirror devoid of silver, reflecting only those who've learned to heed themselves,
And to traverse fearlessly, through mysterious lands, with only the soul external.
O, seeker amidst the soul's arcades, through paths hidden among leaves,
Lift your gaze towards the door that's been closed to you daily, yet ever open,
Gentle eternity awaits beyond your wall of dreams and excuses,
Where everything begins and ends, in your hand, the key is unseen but promised.
In passing through the shadow of this world of shifting facades,
The door swings wide, effortlessly, silently, threshold-free,
And within you, in the summer of the soul, where time is but a fluttering leaf,
There lies the sanctuary, the chambers of silence, where you are everything and nothing, a droplet and an entire ocean on the brink.
Forlorn and lost,
I hang my head like a dying flower;
scars on my soul are mossed,
I drown in dregs that devour.
My journey has left my life garden so ravaged,
but, I must leave this forlorn that keeps me damaged;
and hope must be salvaged.
I will find my strength and power at any cost !
Hope is like water,
and though life is a struggle and journey;
I am my mother's daughter,
and will battle all those vines ferny.
There will be twists and turns and days that taint and stain,
but, against the winds I will break my forlorn chain;
to find my way in the rain.
And forlorn will be rinsed away with the hope water !
_______________________
April 13, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/Forlorn Hope
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1346-851-13
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, This or That, Vol 2
sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Judged 05/13/2021
Third Place
I first noticed a change in Climate,
When my shoes started to outlast their laces,
Which I thought unusual at the time,
As I had come to think of it as an unwritten law,
Probably one of Murphy's,
That shoelaces were never meant to outlast a pair of shoes,
And shoes were built with the shoeshine boy and the shoe mender in mind.
About the time I realized that those rules no longer applied,
I felt the chill in the air,
As a new broom and a new wind were swooping down on us.
But just in case there is time for the change of climate to be reversed,
I take the laces that are now still as good as new,
Out of the shoes, before I consign them to another growing mountain,
That no one is prepared to climb,
And save them in case I come across a pair of shoes,
That will outlast their laces,
And possibly become a link in the chain,
That we can use to pull the world and its climate,
Back on an even keel,
Especially if someone who appreciates shoes that last,
Sees merit in encouraging a mountain of near new laces,
By making deals with charities to create the mountain,
Instead of bringing more new ones onto the market,
And helping speed up a change in climate.
Or alternatively if that does not come about,
My saved shoelaces will make handy ties for the bags of shoes,
I will need to dispose of that are beyond repair.
Either way,
I feel better for having pointed out,
That if we make enough small $1 savings to the good,
We could give the world it's badly needed,
Trillion-dollar makeover,
So we can all make do with smaller waste bins.
insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, mothering, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced crappy corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved,
Soulful as a summer’s night in MOTOWN- James Brown approved, TOP approved, Berkeley approved, the coffee that Jimmy Hendrix drank before he died, the coffee that Elvis drank on his last breakfast, the coffee that Barry White crooned as he drank his cup of coffee – and the coffee that made the white boy play stand up and play that funky music, the coffee that made Jonny B Goode play his guitar, and made Jonny bet the devil his soul after he drank his morning cup of righteous coffee and the coffee that make the Rolling Stones Rock and Roll, the coffee your mother warned you against drinking, the coffee that Napoleon drank when he became the Emperor of all Europe, the Coffee that Beethoven drank when he wrote the Ninth symphony, the coffee that Mozart drank as he wrote his last symphony, the coffee that Lincoln drank before he was killed, the Hemingway drank before he killed himself, the coffee that started the 60’s, and ended the 20th century,
California Dreamin…
Momma Told Me Not To Come
By The Time I Get To Phoenix
Will Anybody Really Know What Time Has Spun
Hotel California…
Its Chain Gang wearing thin
Searching for an American Woman
Blowin In The Wind
Bill Bojangles Robinson…
preaching Fire And Rain
New York’s A Lonely Lonely Town
dragging Ball And Chain
Summertime Blues and Porgy’s drowning…
Riders On The Storm
Layla kisses Judy Blue Eyes
Stairway To Heaven scorned
Woodstock and a Big Bear Scrambler…
Who’ll Stop The Rain
Don’t Think Twice this Hard Day’s Night
Eli’s Comin again
Hey Jude, Moondance is calling…
It’s Too Late says Ms. King
Yesterday’s Hound Dog barking Crazy
—the Purple Haze begins
(Rosemont College: June, 2022)