Long Chosen Poems
Long Chosen Poems. Below are the most popular long Chosen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chosen poems by poem length and keyword.
Before the Frost,
the world was ours for the taking
Love embraced us,
and we dared dreaming Greater
than any form could hold.
Foolishly, it may seem,
for the ice tide had yet to flood the gravelled road
where we played hide and seek
among planets and stars
It rolled in with mystery and sorrow;
in the blink of an eye almost.
It was magic too great to fathom,
even for an open mind.
A few moments of breaths and astounding gasps,
then this ripping sensation tumbled in
this tone of incoherency and shock.
Suddenly, the world had lost a loved one
an Angel, as it were
Before I knew what happened
I was accompanied by void.
You see, Time,
she's her own conscious deity;
ringing her hour in our ears,
ripping into our hearts and wounding,
Knowingly,
while presenting Choices
to each soul passing by
"Do you want to Live,
or Die?
Whether ready or not,
it is our Birth Right to choose,
and our Souls answer from the core.
But how could we choose so different,
you and I?
I wonder what memory of Love lost
doesn’t weaken the human heart and its belongings;
tear it to shattered shards of crystallized sand corns
on lonesome gravelled roads.
For my human self, this form chosen,
has walked miles upon miles to burn memories off of its feet
and cursed the dreams for their lingering seduction.
Enabling Hope,
as if I could wish back wings and feathers,
and create an Angel out of dust.
I choose Life,
wave after wave,
It's clearly screaming from my core.
What to do, to not miss you,
when choices are to be made
another Time around?
Brilliant and dull,
Losing and winning,
Seeking and finding –
Among the dreams, a feeling…
She risks her heart,
And, finds her hope.
She rises in the morning,
To erase the darkest fears.
She wonders through shadows,
To abide beneath the light of love.
She kisses away the past,
With laughter because she’s gone.
Beautiful and hideous,
Winter and summer,
Chaotic and peaceful –
Despite her faith, she blunders…
She lingers in her self-pity,
Still facing the battle with vigor.
She wrecks the music,
Playing notes of pale and weak.
She invites the prayers,
Then silences her screams.
She is an echo of yesterday,
While still awaiting tomorrow’s lease.
She is wild and willing,
Welcoming the moments, while…
She decides who she will be,
Her heart and soul grow wings,
And she is awkward in her melancholy.
But, she still grieves…
Pieces of her destiny, pieces never settled.
Black and white,
A frown and a smile,
Right and wrong,
Even what she knows grows thorns,
She reaches for the stars,
While playing in the dark.
She embraces the gentle ones,
Never sure of their calm.
She dreads Autumn’s close,
While the snow accumulates in her soul.
She is the end and the start,
Where she goes, hope follows her home.
She regrets those barren years,
But her heart remembers and fears.
She is good. She is bad –
Yet, her faith is like her breathe,
Always there, always exhaling…
Moments in prayers, prayers who know,
Beyond this world, there is life –
Love so amazing - it is her reason for praising
Humble and prideful,
Abundant and wanting,
More or less..
She is everything and nothing,
And, always… she knows she’s been chosen…
For this very moment, for this very life,
For this very joy and peace – love that never leaves,
Because, forever and always – Oh, yes…
She believes!
The white carnation and red rose bouquet -
How beautiful it was with its array
of baby’s breath – as beautiful as she -
our innocent sweet girl, a bride -to – be.
It was so perfect for the special day.
The white carnation and red rose bouquet
she'd picked out from a florist's magazine
would never by her eyes be freshly seen.
And though she’d thrilled to know the symbol of
her chosen flowers’ colors was pure love,
the white carnation and red rose bouqet
upon our daughter’s casket we now lay.
Before her wedding day, our daughter met
with tragedy, but we will not forget
the dream we all lost. Now is on display
the white carnation and red rose bouquet.
Oct. 7, 2017
Again a small poem guys dedicated to my Darling hubby..
wrote by Mrs.Madhavi
Loving You is Blissful - My Darling Hubby
Twilighting glow of the sky..
Wanna fly so high..
Sparkling amidst the million stars..
chosen the crazy pal and so life is excellently par..
As like the blossom were kissed by soft rain..
Your arrival in life diminished all my pains..
God has entwined me..with my emarald diamonite gem..
Enlightening new vistas in life as like your next aim..
At an astounding pace time flew..
But When i didn‘t see you..I feel like..Life is been dew..
Your divine presence in life rejuvenates me..
Every tick of my heartbeat resonating wit your‘s or whatever it will be..
Your innumerable naughtiness made me silly..
But yep, your beautifying nature had an fragrance in life like lilly..
As like snow crested the nestled mountains..
You cuddled my persona..like a sip of fountains..
Being With you, Life is euphorically elated..
Full of high spirit and delighted..
Thanks for being accompanying me my theist..
Your admirer with lots n lots of Love:
Madhavi
The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour
When A Dream Within A Dream came true
And seeing the Evening Star between the bower
As the man with The Raven hair sat next to me on the pew
All the Stanzas of the Hymn were done
Romance in my fluttering heart An Enigma
The Bells ringing in my ears as one-by-one
The Sleeper emotion of devotion aroused by charisma
Nor Dream-Land as though it really seemed
But Dreams of Romance finally chanced
Nor The Valley Of Unrest but light from his eyes beamed
The light from his eyes,The Raven hair, the dream enhanced
The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour
When a real live suitor, A Valentine
Came to take me away by his willpower
Those wedding vows said to him I'm thine
Written: February 19, 2017
Poet Chosen: Edgar Allen Poe
Your are under arrest
in your house
your concentration camp
quiet
before for being unmasked
get fined.
You have no rights
to buy, sell or travel
without hand or forehead
being jabbed
in preparation
for microchip ahead.
Can't buy bread? Starve
with the little mouths
you allowed to live
they could have been
used in vaccines.
You are not to visit
friends, family
or enemies
in nursing homes
or hospital beds
dying
to be disposed of
quietly.
You are not to go to school
knowledge is dangerous
infecting brain to brain
to rioting dissent!
Let the screen be your teacher
and Alexa your friend.
You are not to go to parties
or indoor movies
alone get drunk
and watch your *****
and blood at home.
You are to be vaccinated
enemy of all that is progress
who gave you the audacity
to question vaccines'
safety and efficacy
with elderly and terminally ill
dying from Covid-19?
Unapproved, obsolete
what’s that to us?
Give to Caesar money
to science your body
and to 666 your hand
to be microchipped
if you want medicine
travel or be fed.
Gagged, tied, mesmerized
fear turns hearts to ice
but a remnant keeps shining
God’s charity
feeding hungry
hugging lonesome
praying in private
and in public
for a self destroying
faithless humanity
heading to depopulation.
Fed by heaven
sealed on the forehead
with the cross of salvation
chosen to be preserved
to start a new world
of love, peace and joy
with Jesus Christ as King
in an environment of beauty
health and energy
as it was meant to be
with foods that nourish
herbs that heal
joy of family life
in villages
full of boys and girls
running with health.
The remnant could be you.
Lord Jesus come
hurry do not delay
Thy Kingdom come.
NOT DONE (with us)
There once was a magnificent temple,
With the purest of gold the LORD'S house was lined,
Though it was only temporal,
It was perfect in detail according to God's design.
Then came an indestructible Temple,
He is Jesus –Messiah –God Divine,
See Him –our Beautiful Savior,
By faith we touch Him –in Him we shall shine.
Our bodies too are God's temple,
Chosen and built up in His time,
We are His vessels tried and tested,
By a furnace of affliction –various degrees to refine.
God's work in us is a continuing process,
Never expect our Lord to leave you alone,
As He purifies us as precious metals,
Until He takes us home.
1 Chr 28:19 2Chr 3:4-9 Jn 2:19-21 1Co 6:19 1 Pe 1:6,7
"A grandma is someone who plays a special part in all the treasured memories we hold within our heart."
- Unknown
My grandma used to sing aloud
With a sweet voice, she was endowed
Clapping her hands, she used to praise
With a loud voice, praying always
My grandma used to smile a lot
I remember her on her cot
She loved to eat bananas ripe
And chocolates of any type
My grandma used to love us all
She loved to give us presents small
Sometimes toffee, sometimes money
She was the sweetest and funny
My grandma loved my dad so much
She had the softest wrinkled touch
She had a memory so sharp
Spreading God's love, she was His harp
My grandma is in heaven now
No more pain or a troubled brow
Someday soon, I will meet her there
What a hope! Such joy we will share!
23rd February 2023
For Constance La France's "Writing challenge - G words" contest
Topic chosen : Grandma
yes, I am thankful for poetry’s gift
exuding worshipful gratitude-bliss
humbling me to praise God* for being blest
directed toward caring kindness-route
showered by heavenly fulfillment-triumph…
poetry’s bliss, blest toward triumph
Psalms 109:30 I will greatly praise the LORD with my mouth; yea, I will praise him among the multitude.
February 7, 2025
1st place, "A Personal Valentine Phoenix sixain" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Suzette Richards; judged on 2/9/2025
Phoenix sixain --- It is a 6-line verse invented by Suzette Richards (2024).
Five consecutive lines are chosen from one of older poems, verbatim.
Line 6: A word from each of these 5 lines, in sequence; therefore, a 5-word line. Rhyme and metre are optional, and the syllable count per line is irrelevant.
[The 5-line verse is from my poem, “THANKFUL FOR POETRY’S GIFT” (2024)]
I am sitting here alone,
I look around and I see:
The couches you wanted to be here,
Brown leather, brownish auburn leather,
Couches made of a football dream,
Shattered, or a football dream
Imagined;
I see a misplaced shelf,
Once towering over my desk and a dream of togetherness.
I look some more and I see the bar stools by the kitchen counter,
Empty;
No children to sit in them, a family dismissed.
I see a light oak kitchen table placed by the
Dark cherry hutch.
Once a set,
Now two individual pieces that quietly state,
Their will to not belong.
I listen to the sounds and I hear:
I can hear my heart beating as it always has.
I listen closer and I can hear the baby breathing.
The breath of new life, hopeful and unaware,
An existence allowed by chance.
I breathe in the air of this small apartment
And I smell:
I smell the candles burning;
Please keep burning as you might be able to burn
The cells that cause me to remember.
I smell sadness,
I smell an unkempt apartment and an unkempt union.
I close my eyes and I try to feel and sense:
I sense your presence still lingering here.
I dial your number, the number meant to be my answer,
…no answer.
My call has been transferred to an automated voice mail system,
My call has been transferred to the dismissal of emotions.
I sit still and listen some more:
I listen to the me that is left, telling me to stop holding on.
Please let go of your embrace.
I will go taking the best of you with me as
You accidentally gave yourself a chance to start over.
I will replace your sweet lies with the loyal truth.
I will never seek happiness in a glass or in a white line.
I will never seek happiness amongst people that live
as drums beating to the sound of emptiness.
I will walk sober, and will embrace
Life and death intoxicated only by images of happiness
That will be earned.
We walk different paths for a reason. I can’t follow you because
I will elude myself along the path that you have chosen.
I refuse to be a ghost before my time has come;
Your freedom to not be will be my freedom to become.