Long Chastened Poems
Long Chastened Poems. Below are the most popular long Chastened by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chastened poems by poem length and keyword.
IN. BY. AS
long suffering. patience. dying,yet we live
tribulation. fellowship. chastened,yet not dead
labours the Holy Spirit. sorrowful,yet rejoicing
our needs. endurance. in Christ , possesing all things
Jesus. by the power of God. the Word of Truth
inspired by 2 Corinthians 6:4-10
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Living in an unwanted world
Tossed to and fro
With heavy breeze breezing
All hope seems lost
Lost in the midst of ravaging storm
Tossing East and North.
Caught amidst the combat of immorality
Weary and scary
Sharpened edges rust,
Once honored chastened.
Caught in the midst of thorns
Egg meant to meet with fragility chastened.
Marauding and parading
No light,no route, no Zeus.
Bright lightening fades,
yellow sun turned dark
Light to the path turn outcast
The cared for left
Leaving the light to fend for himself.
Is the light meant to fuel itself ?
How then shall it bear forth light ?
When day break,night cometh not ?
When night comes with darkness being the author of the day,
Vanishes, ashamed,is an outcast light summoned?
How be it the light comes up
When not fuelled?
Light cometh up but shines not .
When treated right,
Light shines and darkness vanishes
When there is alternative to light,
Is the light not ashamed?
Nothing replaces light for ever.
Even nature cometh and vanishes.
Then,shall light be appreciated but gone.
Of what gain shall it be for both creature?
You were loved once
just because
but in defiance of your lot
perhaps in spite
learned to dance, love again
Think it's hidden
in diamond's luster
or hereafter
not all the smiles
nor outpour of laughter
Educated, ready to reach
the brass ring's test
understanding even less
of life's best
Trade in yesterday for
sister's and brother's
just a taste
of tomorrow's forevers
never promised, nor bothered
I'll never tell you it's so
if you want or don't
who'd think I could ever know
when you will or won't?
Never can be too sure
if anything will last
channel'd from someone or
something
remains from ages past
Run faster hoping time will never
catch up, to all this
ask you to pay amends
for moments chastened
now missed
Try to catch the wind
sleeping
best to practice touching..
keeping
No, you won't remember hard times
if it were up to me
staring into a lion's eyes,
from where you came
on the way to where you'll be
Return to doctor's orders
hold on to praise won
pray all turns right
before the ending' sun
Ten's beauty is half as such
twelve is way too much
make due with that special
someone
just because
THE MUSE by Anna Akhmatova
This is my English translation of a Russian poem by Anna Akhmatova…
The MUSE
by Anna Akhmatova
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
My being hangs by a thread tonight
as I await a Muse no human pen can command.
The desires of my heart — youth, liberty, glory —
now depend on the Maid with the flute in her hand.
Look! Now she arrives; she flings back her veil;
I meet her grave eyes — calm, implacable, pitiless.
“Temptress, confess!
Are you the one who gave Dante hell?”
She answers, “Yes.”
Anna Akhmatova was a great Russian poet, and a personal favorite of mine...
The evening light is broad and yellow
by Anna Akhmatova
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The evening light is broad and yellow;
it glides in on an April rain.
You arrived years late,
yet I’m glad you came.
Please sit down here, beside me,
receive me with welcoming eyes.
Here is my blue notebook
with my childhood poems inside.
Forgive me if I lived in sorrow,
spent too little time rejoicing in the sun.
Forgive, forgive, me, if I mistook
others for you, when you were the One.
I have also translated this tribute poem written by Marina Tsvetaeva for Anna Akhmatova:
Excerpt from “Poems for Akhmatova”
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
You outshine everything, even the sun
at its zenith. The stars are yours!
If only I could sweep like the wind
through some unbarred door,
gratefully, to where you are...
to hesitantly stammer, suddenly shy,
lowering my eyes before you, my lovely mistress,
petulant, chastened, overcome by tears,
as a child sobs to receive forgiveness...
Keywords/Tags: Anna Akhmatova, Marina Tsvetaeva, Russia, Russian, translation, English translation, Muse, thread, pen, heart, flute, veil, Dante, hell, confess, confession, sun, stars, poems, poetry, poets, writing, blue notebook, notebook, journal
While Shepherds watched their flocks by night all seated on the ground
The ewes collected up their lambs and gathered them around
"Listen now," the old Ewe said, "you young lambs listen well,
If you all want to grow to sheep then hark to what I tell
You may see lights up in the sky, or coming cross the downs
They could be aliens my dears, from space, or other towns
They may use flashy coloured beams or other fancy sights
But sometimes they have dim headlamps and indicator lights"
"It does not matter how they come or from what other lands
Aliens are just as bad who drive white transit vans
So lambs who plan to wander off and get up to no good
Can get sheepnapped to Cygnus Prime, or maybe Cricklewood
And whether you are beamed aboard, or bundled in a sack
The aliens have got you, and you won't be coming back
A simple truth for young lambs to, within their noddles, keep
Is alien companionship is never good for sheep"
"It matters not a sci-fi whit dissected in a lab,
Or spiced and served with napkins in a curry or kebab
The preparations, much the same, occuring on the way
Are what you can undoubtedly expect to spoil your day!"
The little lambs were chastened much and some quite overcome
And resolved that they would keep themselves close to their mum
But other things were happening and shepherds on the ground
Beheld an Angel visiting, with glory spread around
"Fear Not", he said for mighty dread had seized their troubled minds
"Great tidings of great joy I bring to you and all mankind"
The sheep reckoned that was not them and were much relieved
It did not really matter if the shepherds were deceived
But still, they thought, 'twas best be off, although no need to hurry
And one or two thought shepherds might improve turned into curry
The night was dark and shepherds eyes were full of holy light
And so the sheep all silently crept off into the night
Leaving shepherds to their fate somewhere among the stars
The sheep hit Bethlehem's nightspots, the clubs, the pubs and bars.
Hesitant, to Hope whispered New Year:
Men alas in hope look happier,
But I've no such long rope,
Hard work seems the sole hope,
But let me still perky appear.
No use spoiling their mood,
In time let them come good,
Time settles all fizz of frothy beer.
______________________________________________________
No New Year can look better than it is, nor would the passing one. It largely depends on us. Yet, man just waits in hope with little or no hard work. In this extended limerick, Hope wonders in the company of New Year. ______________________________________________________
Reflections | 04.01.2017 |
A mighty monarch had a dream,
the kind that makes men stir and scream.
In mid-earth grew a large, strong tree,
It was so tall that all could see.
A holy one gave the decree,
to cut down and destroy the tree,
but leave the large stump in the ground,
with bronze and iron fetters bound.
The mighty monarch was the tree,
to whom his subjects bowed the knee.
His Majesty was very great,
But his arrogance sealed his fate.
God had decreed he’d lose his throne,
and live in nature all alone.
His hair like one unkempt will grow,
and nails protrude like those of a crow.
A chastened monarch he would be,
until his folly, he would see.
Like a man who has lost his mind,
he will live like the beastly kind.
The purpose of the harsh decree
was that all on earth may agree,
that God rules the affairs of men,
and decides where men rule, and when.
At the end of his harsh ordeal
the chastened king proclaimed with zeal,
the Most High God exists for real,
Let all on earth before him kneel.
Listen you haughty men and proud,
Who mock this God with voices loud.
One day you too will face His wrath,
because you chose the foolish path.
Do you delight in exaltation?
In those neon bright lights
I’ve been mesmerized before
You are in the breathless highs
But best in the captivating lows
Exquisitely in temptations
Divinely in the mundane
How long will I deny you?
Seeking your high like a drug
I forsake you on the cross
Run to sin city with a die
High on my own ego, I go
But you are easy in the lows
Cloistered in empty times
Chastened by old high times
I make dull your ordinary
Keep me sharp as your tool
Or stalwart as a boring tree
If only I have faith in cycles
Not flickering with exaltation
Not dulled by the doldrums
Then I will praise you
In the dying of my highs
Down in the ordinary life
Love’s overstated tales richly woven
To a wet hind the ears green pod by far,
For long I thought, love was a gift given,
Raw fantasies fallen as if from star,
I wasted all my youthful early age--
The fairy years of wide-eyed boyish life
That fostered further this impish image--
That love flowed but from alien breasts, blesst rife.
Yet, every breast with such belief is blest
And given time I grew up, chastened wise
That love's no one-way street, nor Cupid's heist--
A truth too late to ferret from raw lies.
A confluence love be of two rivers,
Both gift takers and both no less givers.
________________________________
Sonnet | 01.02.2010 | art, heart, love, river
Father, My Father the hour is come,
My weary heart feels the brewing storm,
Rome's Calvary to Me they hasten,
In Thy presence I kneel chastened.
Take Thy goblet from Me I pray,
Veer me away from the devil's way,
Hide Me within Thy towering pavilions,
Away from Caesar's bloodthirsty minions.
But not My will but Thine be done,
I stand obedient to Thee a Son,
Weary but willing to stand the test,
If that assures salvation for the rest.
So let Thine angel give Me strength,
For though My bloody sweat fall at length,
I'll drink this chalice of suffering still,
Knowing I harken to My Father's will.
To You then My breath I give,
Let death be for Me a brief reprieve,
And eternal life for the rest of human race,
Who'll sing forever Your Amazing Grace.
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