Long Chastises Poems
Long Chastises Poems. Below are the most popular long Chastises by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chastises poems by poem length and keyword.
The clock chastises me,
as painted petals bloom brilliance
in illuminated wonder that attempts
escape from the hidden crevices
deep within my beleaguered mind.
The beauty I seek is but an allusive dream,
flowing rags of worthless chattel
that fill me with words, heavy, like stone,
my rhymes but pointless emotional prattle.
Yet, still my need must pursue that dream
to create another verse so sublime as to define
me as me in a world filled with poetic doppelgangers
and, so, I write just one more sad, lonely line.
"Extant nectared incense she lit, burning inside, slow but alone,
Arrogant me, let her leave, as here I sit, awaiting the unknown."
Clever, perhaps, but are my words,
like the melancholy song of the lonely Lune,
beautiful?
Geez, or should I say jeez, no Cuneiform here,
shall I try once more...
"crystalline sparkles
achromatic winter jewels
spring paints with colors"
...to bring out in me that which,
through these many years of seeing
my world ravaged with emotional upheaval,
still, in its turn, allowing me to experience
love and enchantment from eyes
that held me in the warmest embrace.
"I see the storm as rage engulfs those lovely eyes,
the blue intrepid sea of passion's lost release.
Inside, the tears of torment flow to sooth the lies,
yet, pain remains in every moment's wish for peace.
As burning anger seethes inside of you
the path it seeks obscures your point of view,
and leaves the ragged scars of bitter love
left blurred like mist in sodden clouds above.
Emotional, these moments steal your gentle heart
and eat in to the darkened void that once was you,
but misplaced hate can not keep you and I apart,
when, with my shroud of love, your heart I will eschew.
I hope you'll see just how I feel for you,
for you are why I do these things I do."
Crap!
Total
crap I read!
and I chuckle
as I re-read it.
In a single sonnet,
iambic hexameter
and iambic pentameter,
the Bard must be turning in his grave;
I guess I'll have to try another day.
08/15/2018
Form:
Unnumbered Days
Written: by Miracle Man
10-11-2019
Spent days lie behind me,
and future days are uncertain.
They’re viewed through a haze,
until God raises the curtain.
I don’t know the remaining count,
but they’re held in God’s clutch.
More than once, in life, I’ve felt,
from on high, His healing touch.
My future days are unsettled,
and I’ve seen change as I’ve grown.
At the end of life my harvest,
will be from earthly seeds I’ve sown. *
So that leaves me this morning,
to gaze, as another sun rises.
To reap unwarranted blessings,
but sometimes, God chastises.
* Ephesians 2:9 (KJV)
“Not of works, lest any man should boast”.
August 9 Heart for God Bible Meditations Based on Isaiah 54-58
Key Verse – Isaiah 54:10 For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the LORD that hath mercy on thee.
HEART THAT IS ASSURED BY THE MERCY OF THE LORD
Our heart is assured by the mercy of the Lord with His victory
Along His truthful glory
As He chastises our transgressions of shameful misery
Indeed, keeping us in His life-building ministry.
Our heart is assured by the mercy of the Lord with His instructions
Along His cleansing functions
As He washes our evil deeds with His purging sanctifications
Indeed, soaking us into His spirituality-refining purifications.
Our heart is assured by the mercy of the Lord with His might
Along His transforming delight
As He converts our character with His perfection-insight
Indeed, molding us by His attitude-training pursuits to do what is right.
Our heart is assured by the mercy of the Lord with His holiness-engagements
Along His fortifying establishments
As He corrects our errors with His standard measurements
Indeed, teaching us through His step-directing requirements.
Our heart is assured by the mercy of the Lord with His trustworthiness
Along His encompassing graciousness
As He pardons our confessed sins through His forgiveness
Indeed, strengthening us by His faith-refining steadfastness.
Our heart is assured by the mercy of the Lord with His virtuous processes
Along His empowering ways devoid of deceitful traces
As He replaces our mischief-curses upon His deliverance-braces
Indeed, lifting us up through His spirit-reviving forces.
Our heart is assured by the mercy of the Lord with His compassionate driving
Along His wonderful loving
As He controls our carnal impulses through His principle-rules’ proving
Indeed, upholding us while we are striving according to His conviction-driving.
August 9, 2026
A slight chill of cold darkness,
air hit me as I roamed outside,
I saw the red moon move a fence,
alike a farmer with a glowing nose,
I kept speaking and was sleepy
the hopeless empyrean was everywhere,
facing similar to town youth,
accompanying their silvery faces.
Dense snowflakes cover the soil
living hibernates, beginning to wait
breeze ice webs over the auld oaks
light glancing through the jug divider
The white being that triumphs over cold,
life-inspiring affection for the opaline color.
Cheering regardless of the snowstorm,
In calm surges of artistry,
the melancholy fear is calmed continuously,
as the sunlight thinking dismisses ignorance,
storms thunder inside the sheets,
all epoch and mystery, the encounters
blending quiet and blast,
rainy environments and the moonlight.
A riotous squirrel chastises me for crushing allure day.
while I trespass into appeal rule without regard,
the dust opposed the deep, foul perfume of decay,
I mindlessly wander through colorful folding.
Threaded accompanying auric, gold-colored, and azure.
God's beauty has vitality-restorative power.
Mother Nature protects the aforementioned advantage.
Written: December 23, 2022
WINTER STORM Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues
Un-nerved by formal sentencing assemblies,
Marks and Words, bound by conjunctive amenity.
The tried beliefs that short cuts speed words into action.
Made stuffy Old School feel out of fashion.
Punctuation board-slams her silver gavel;
“A shortened distance, yet far to travel.”
Marks are pushed into line to enter their plea.
Dash Dash Dash has trailing thoughts…
Comment remarks that it thinks too much.
Question Mark, curiously rotund and stout,
asks “What’s this meeting all about?”.
Proud Period, acquainted with the strident rituals of formality,
Quickly departs, leaving a daunting spot of terse finality.
Comma’s game of pause and snag,
grammatically adheres to one of tag.
Overwrought Exclamation Mark, nervously blurts:
“Unruly disorder can make matters worse!”.
Semi colon maintaining proper pauses,
Stays anchored between compelling clauses.
Colon fearful of growling barks,
snuggles closer to Quotation Marks.
Apostrophe’s like for word possession,
worries over changing word obsession
Oh, Oh! Oh? Oh…
These are shameful attempts to monopolize,
Even with trite words, of unassuming size.
.
Punctuation thinks her identity’s impaired
Might she be confused with the shrew, Grammar?
She calls to order a capitol thought.
sliding up to Exclamation Mark, shouts “’STOP!’
The object of this meeting,
Is not subject to self- beating.
No presence is here to criticize, or chastises,
nor harmonize.
If getting through is what stays true.
Will be understood by some , but always to you.”.
*Image of God Smiles by Pixabay.
The Table is Yours
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
determined to make the best of my fill,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.
So slight I take, before greed rob sizes,
breeds avarice, made by my tales, instill
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
I treat my table for none, chastises,
scorn bugs cheer, I use, superior skill,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.
My views are all mine, other surmises,
Live whole, die happy, and I am uphill,
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
I chose my independence; it rises,
some ills my mood, nothing changes, free will,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.
My metaphors used spell true life guises,
My mountain I fit into a molehill,
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.
2022 August 03
She should be ashamed, he should be ashamed, they should be ashamed
Nasari grew up hearing these daily chastises from her mother
She knew that she also should be ashamed
And yet she did not know the why of it yet
Shame was a theme in her life, at an early age
She was ashamed in kindergarten, second grade, sixth grade
Her cheeks were flushed, for everything was her fault
If someone else dropped the Playdough, she took responsibility
Not only was she in charge of herself
She was in charge of the rest of the world
What they did was her shame
She took it all on
With guilty feelings
For her mother had drummed this into her psyche
At an early age
though avast percentage
of Stone Temple Pilots, she push peep pulls
viz vernacular speaking population
to most pious take as gospel
every word in religious tomes
their collective soul asylum polestar,
and doth decree important doctrines
with especial accord
equal insignificance applied toward
Judeo-Christian holidays across the board
thus easter tis no exception to the golden rule,
where santa claus reached an a chord
follow auspicious signs alit in the night sky
shaped like a drinking gourd
perhaps amassing plentiful harvests
upon hamlets strewn
across scantily populated Earth
asper cornucopia exhibited secret hoard
sharing plentiful Horn
(and Hard art learned lesson)
to stave off barren ness, ignored
going forward seeding nascent
March Madness with help from Lord
and Tailor as midwife hoot
tended Ville Nova moored
by Wildcat fanatics, who unbelievably
espied heavens cleft asunder
and golden rays poured
while collective spectators loudly screamed
akin to the soundgarden
of ferocious cats roared
witnessed history scored
earning players knighted
with Excalibur sword
thence entire team handed
Taj Mahal shaped award
which aforementioned ass hide lacks, cuz zit
happens tubby April Fool's joke
thus above iterated verses somehow
needs just a little bit of relevance to yoke
thine admitted ambivalent reaction to sports,
yea aye pay figurative toke
hen to Rabbinic, generic fanatic primal
tribal village people clan destine woke
and swinging focus of this poem
back toward Religious perp ported berth
when (sans antiquity) trumpet signaled
thus, any superstitions blew away dearth
when distant shofar heard
in every home and hearth
anticipating arrival of the Easter Bunny,
who brings mirth
and hop poly distributes sweet treats,
which children as grown adults,
no matter necessity for teeth to be removed
the sugary over indulgence wool worth
today thee American Dental Association chastises candy
manufacturers bandying more weight
gaining deadly, debauched, and decadent, trait
then adultery verboten fruit to sate
hash-tagged reprobate.
IN AND OF SPELLBOUNDING AWARENESS
Pondering the journey,
It was as if God had
Put a spell on us
Until reality revealed
The truth of glorifying
Awareness of holy blessings
Of faithful determination
To mount the bucking
Stallion of oppression
And break out
Of the shackled corral
That fenced us in,
Without justice, equanimity,
And freedom,
Giving the devil power
To abort laboring birth
Of our liberation:-
Enlightened, we‘re now galloping,
With charioting forces
Over mountains, rivers, and seas,
Roping and challenging
All past and present vestiges,
Of that particular institution
That once imprisoned
Our ancestors,
And we shall no longer
Be victims of the shadowed spell
Cast upon us
By the devil’s wickedness,
For we are freed
From his mental shackles
And now control
Our own destiny
To justice and
Liberty:-
Indeed, “...a new natural mystic
Is blowing..,
And we are breathing
The air of its liberation,
Energized and directed
With audacious power—
Within and without—
To demonstrate and prove
That our Black Lives Matter
To us and the world;
For a new day
Is upon the horizon
With the rising sun
Arching Earth’s skies
With rainbowing liberation:-
So, wake up, America!
A new mystic air is blowing,
And there is no mountain
So high
Or valley so
Low
Where bigotry
Racism and fascism
Can hide or abide:
Where the air is filled
With awareness,
Peace and love,
Fools of darkness,
And oppression,
Cannot breathe:-
On earth, God rules,
Heals and chastises,
Leaving fools roaming aimlessly
In the confusion down yonder:
Unmasked in the heated slime
And fumes of His retribution:-
Thus, let us not be spellbound,
But nourish in the wisdom of
Of the truth: “Be not deceived;
God is not mocked…whatsoever
A man soweth, that shall he reap.”
Let us continue to struggle
With audacious, triumphant faith
With our eyes stayed on the prize—
Sipping from the saucer of grace—
As our cup of grace continues to overflow
From generation to generation to come:-
Acta Non Verba... Speaks Volumes
The above ad hoc Latin catchphrase,
(concatenated with two English words),
I regale chance reader
immediately sets ablaze
title of poem with timeless adage,
aptly suits this solitary
older male, whose daze
spent on planet Earth
aimless curriculum vitae
configures a zigzag maze
significant blocks of time
poorly aye now appraise
and rue so little forethought
wrought starry eyed glaze
amiss to any Amish,
colonial, horse drawn observer
passing by in their chaise
puzzled, asper my
doggone catatonic gaze
indicative as if me mind
lost in a foggy haze
yours truly attests,
concurs, he now flays
chastises, fulminates, lays
hard and heavy lament,
albeit cloistered frivolous,
lackadaisical, unproductive... ways
apathetic, estranged, indifferent...
ambivalent state comatose phase
toward life, when at young age
lacked joie de vivre evincing braise
zen lee oblivious zombie behavior
upon quick observation displayed craze
zee demeanor synonymous
with institutionalized craze
zee wardens of the state,
and at present realize futility to raise
hullabaloo, when 20/20 hindsight
shines figurative light on
how appeared to laze
about lost in space,
within outer limits
of my own twilight zone ways!