Long Christen Poems
Long Christen Poems. Below are the most popular long Christen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Christen poems by poem length and keyword.
Easter
Anointed Eternity
Rises up above the paschal dawn
Heaven’s wounded Prince returns to outshine glory
As the sun blushes – witness to His splendor –
Waters from His wounded side christen crystal springs
With flowing purity
And bloodstained rocks harmonize
With angelic “Alleluia!”
Sung at the top of their lungs like an angelic whisper
Next to the return of his voice.
Light explodes the unclean corpse of darkness
Remembering the lyrics to “Gloria!”
Floral trumpets blare sweet incense
Only a wispy scent in the aromatic frankincense
Of Resurrection’s perfume
As skeletons of the impotent offspring
Hatched by the insomniac serpent
Leave lifeless trails of petrified tears in wastelands
Blooming now from shattered halos.
Emmanuel and mortality
Savor manna’s wriggling ecstasy -
The wine of risen victory -
More abundant than nascent radiance
Life consummated through covenants perfected
In pierced sacrifice,
Echoing like whispers of bridal rejoicing,
Earth’s revelry but a shadow in His footsteps
Of triumphal glee –
Glee only a sigh next to His touch
Felt again,
Embraced as heralds open
Eden’s gates and Heaven’s portals
In forever without time.
I said I'd bring the Brussel Sprouts.
My friend said that was fine.
But still I saw him questioning
as though I'd crossed the line.
He mentioned we had many things.
A meal for a king.
But then he said "Oh what the heck"
and on I went with zing.
I mentioned bringing cranberries.
To which he said "For beef"?
Then stated that I didn't care
and kept it just that brief.
Till finally bringing cherries up.
The Marashino kind.
Do tell; I'd brought his anger up.
He thought I'd lost my mind.
I said they're for the ice cream.
When he said "We have cake".
Then told him we could put them on
for something new to make.
He greeted me with smiling eyes.
His kitchen in a mess.
He'd cooked the meal the whole day long.
This man was meant to bless.
The table sat in waiting now.
A knife, a fork a spoon.
My friend next to the burners on
where he'd been next since noon.
We talked about the day we had.
complained of things unfair.
While turnips, carrots and potats
sat cooking on with flair.
The roast was last to finish up.
It cooked a second time.
It looked like we'd be waiting on
for pink to leave the Prime.
When finally all was ready now.
Each dish upon the table.
You couldn't have had a better spread
or find a friend more able.
The turnips shining in their juice.
The carrots basted glisten.
Potatoes mashed in pile of silk
for gravy left to Christen.
We filled our plates with everything.
Three inches piled high.
And kept them separate in their space.
Not more if we could try.
When finally it had come to change.
The cranberries coming next.
My friend conceded they taste great
with beef in it's context.
The Brussel Sprouts were perfect
as we both approved thier taste.
And ate as many with the meal
to keep them from their waste.
With everything we ate that night
included was our prayer.
For though we stuffed ourselves that night
we're thankfull to be there.
We walked it off an hour or more.
Our health in need of chance.
Returning for another round
of ice cream, cake and trance.
To which I mentioned sweetened cherries
to add a little flavor.
When placed upon the ice cream scoop
would leave us both to savor.
The meal ended with a scrape
that both our plates gave squeak.
but despite our prayer and being full
not one us could speak.
When Will We Wake Up?
I am So tire, Tire Of Racism
Tire of me hiding in the shadows
As if i was a Dog or a cat
because of how My skin,
my voice Look or sound Like
It not like i decided to be black
or when to a competition to have black skin,
or what ever skin, that is not point,
So i ask Again When Will man Wake up?
When Will they realize they can’t change
what is, but can adapt to what is
When will they learn that God Choose You Not Man will
When We they Know That You change what was meant
yeah i wonder When??
Tomorrow, when? In a million years or when?
When Exactly?
I long and thirst for the day when
Man Kind Finally Turn Into Kind Man
When We shall open not just our eyes
but our hearts to see beyond The Hue of man
When we shall open our arms to embrace difference
When We Shall see Beyond Differences
And Say Welcome Brother
Then to finally realize that we are all Human
Then to realize God doesn’t make Mistakes
Because I have learn We Rise by lifting others
For no moral Value Is greater Than Humanity
Who are we as human Beings?
if we ignore the Pain And Suffering of Others
Who are we or more Like What Do You Gain
Money, It Sad, because You will gain Money
You will Die Living Behind
So Humans Wake up,
Not everything that is faced can be change,
but nothing can be changed until it is faced
For there is nothing more truly Artistic
than to love people
Stop Racisms, Stop Scaring Youths
Stop Scaring Immigrants
Stop Scaring the Nation
Stop Killing Innocents
Stop Spreading Hatred Among Tribes
Stop this, Stop This Nonsense
Aren’t you guys tire
Because I am, My Vision of a World I want to Live in,
Is a World of Peace An Culture Diversity
Because I Believe Having a point of View is Very Wonderful,
But Enforcing it on others to destroy their inner peace is wrong
Humans have to learn to embrace the differences with love
To embrace the differences with Empathy, Shed the Duplicity
and take a step towards humanity
Unfortunately humanity Can Be quite Cold to those
Whose Eyes See the World Differently
You were placed on the planet
to write rhymes
but to many times
people tried to fit you
in between their lines
Their prefect pairings
not caring or wanting to be fair or kind
They couldn’t possibly see you
They were bonafide blind
not understanding you
unable to peek into your multifaceted mind
You say “Darkness and Negativity”
But you are starting off in the right place
praying on your knees
No, not needing the societal disease
Who cares if it’s man you please
Only God has the answers
He holds all the keys
He gave us the birds and the bees
and lets us build our houses
out of his trees
Change is coming
I can feel it cold blowing
on the breeze
Maybe God will show us
what He sees
I know sometimes
That mirror feels cracked and broken
The image you see is frozen
Words stuck on the other side of the glass
your reflection has never spoken
When you stare into those eyes
You wonder
What things will be discovered
as your spirit is awoken
Get on the love yourself train
God’s blessed you with a token
Don’t worry, I think all of us
feel incomplete
doing the life sad shuffle
just off a bit by a half beat
yet we get off our asses and repeat
Nothing ever got done
spending to much time in a seat
Get moving guy
bring out those happy feet
You’ve got things to do
and people to meet
Put words down on paper
Take all those thoughts
the good, bad, bold and beautiful
flow-fully fill up that stark white sheet
Like yours “my reality”
is imbedded within my insanity
sometimes I’m the victim
of my own voracious vanity
I think I need to go it alone
While needing something
to fill up this heart cavity
Sometimes I feel like floating far far away
yet I can’t escape emotional gravity
My loneliness is my own preferred prison
I am my own worst enemy
Is this a strange self fulfilling prophecy
Do I need to be separate from society
If so why do I want people to look and see
To read the essence that resides in me
It’s only when I write that I totally feel free
I guess in the end I’m who I am born to be!
Inspired by Christen Foster’s “My Reality” piece.
Join me in welcoming a new poet to our family.
He would enter the corral in the thick fog of mist,
up long before daylight would christen the air
The skies would be coral, and the sun glazed the crest
Dust clung to the heels of his old leather boots,
and gathered in shrouds around the hoofs of the mare.
Billowing were clouds, and a whirlwind of grief
that followed the storms of long hours awake
Endless were nights without the refuge of sleep
while he waited for sun to arrive and relieve
Caressing the flank of her sleek narrow, frame,
his favorite mare, Queenie, was the color of dawn
He would gather her reins, for a moment of calm
then, bury his face in her rusty brown mane
He'd watch as the light slipped over the hills,
smoothing the shadows, that haunted his world
Without ever knowing the worries we found
as we saw those same shadows, splay rapidly down,
drowning his eyes, with dark circles and frowns
Grief and the love of his horses, would ride,
together, off center....wherever, to hide,
and soften the hours, that waited for night
For the house was a shell, and the bedroom, upstairs,
became the forbidden, without her to share
The nights, ever long, were just waiting to tear
open the wounds that couldn't be shared
Up at the sunrise, and out until starlight
Where shadows grew stronger, and nights even longer
Burning the daylight, until light was in ashes,
then thrashing the midnight, with the darkness of mourning,
wading through dust-clouds, to see morning's light
Waiting for something to make it alright
____________________________________________________
4/28/15
Dedicated to my Dad
A poet dreams, a tale to tell,
With ink-stained fingers, heart aglow,
He wanders paths where wild thoughts flow.
In valleys deep where echoes dwell,
A poet’s soul weaves tales to tell.
Through bustling streets and the still of night,
He captures whispers, the world in sight,
He sails on dreams, Finding beauty in moments,
but never at a cost.
He scribes down visions that float in the sky,
In laughter and sorrow, in love's sweet embrace,
The poet finds solace, a sacred space.
As doubts creep in, and the nights turn wrong,`
Yet with every stumble, a lesson learned,
He learns that truth wears many a face,
In the silence, the chaos, the mundane routine,
The poet discovers what living can mean.
So he journeys on, with the world at his feet,
In the language of longing, where passions meet,
Forever a seeker, in verses unchained,
He weaves his legacy into the night,
For the journey of a poet is never complete,
It's a boundless odyssey, where hearts and words greet.
A poet finds their sacred space;
With every stanza, every rhyme,
They carve their mark upon the time.
For every journey starts anew,
With ink and passion, they pursue.
Written by a special poet named
Jerry Bolton
From woman I take mysterious crevices
And build from within
I pluck from warm southern winds
Evolving spirits and calming influences
Molding clay comes next
Merging within the framework has begun
The deep crevices pulsate with expectation
I surround this embryo with clear mountain dew
To immortalize
To nurture its beauty
And satisfy its thirst
As it begins to bud and flower
I squeeze aroma from distant, foreign lands
A pleasing scent to bestow joy and smiles
A rod of thorns, sharp
Blood spiller if mishandled
I stand back
Observe my creation
Not quite satisfied
Handling carefully I cup in my hands
The burgundy and crimson hue
Of aurora borealis
Let it trickle from my palms
Onto the folds and crevices
A pleasing flush
Or maybe a blush
Ahh . . .
I stand back still not satisfied
And so I bend
And christen thee with a kiss
Bestowing upon thou a soul of your own
And baptize thee . . .
Rose
©May 10, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton
I remember The First Day I Laid Sight On you
My heart Whispered You Are The One
That Day Was The Most Magical Day Of my Life
I Felt Like A Million Butterfly Beautiful With a Trillion Colors.
I Felt Like I Will Live Forever Loving you With All My Heart
And Never Disappear From Your Face
I Love You With So Much Passion
it became My Assignment to be With you.
But At last When I Lost You,
I Felt Like a broken Glass
Try With All My Might
To Even if Just Glue it together.
But I Knew
It Wasn’t Going the Same Again.
Nobody knows I need you.
They think I can do it on my own,
But they don’t know I am crying
When I am all alone.
So I Will Forever Write it In the Stars
Loving Can Hurt
Loving Can Hurt
But It Is the Only Thing I Know
Nobody knows it’s painful.
They think that I am strong.
But I wonder if they are wrong
I wish you were here
Just Appreciate You More
The real You In All It Majesty
But I Guess When The One We Care About Is Gone
that When We Realize
We made A Mistake That Could Have been Avoided
But At last What Will I Say
It all My Fault
I Lost My One And Only Moon
While Gazing Upon The Stars
Fathers are like the ocean,
Vast deep, strong in motion,
Endless depths of love and care,
Always present, always there.
Like the waves that crash ashore,
Fathers protect us evermore,
Guiding us in life's rough tide,
Leading us to the other side.
Their wisdom flows just like the sea,
Their strength like a tidal energy,
Their kindness like a gentle breeze,
Their love, an oceanic immensity.
Through storms and waves they stand their ground,
A beacon of hope when we're feeling down,
Fathers are like the ocean vast,
Always enduring, forever steadfast.
So let us honor fathers today,
For all they give and all they say,
For being our rock in life's great ocean,
Guiding us with unwavering devotion.
Archegonium, arcanum.
Shaped like a flask or tom-tom drum.
Sagebrush and pitcher plant, sweet wine.
Red rhinoceros, yohimbine.
Ricochet, round rebound ride roil.
Oracle, bad dreams within boil.
Karyon, at the center found?
Nucleus, cell. Synapse, surround.
Terminal, termite, thermite, torch.
Chew through the floorboards. Borax, scorch.
Yataghan, yashmak, christen clepe.
Hound, underground linger and leap.
Ktenology by kumiss?
Knissomancy, thy kurtosis?
Yperite, yon ypsiliform.
Poisonous gas, the foe keep warm.
Yonderley yucca, yex yusho.
Stain their skin as you kill them slow.
Xiphoid, thy sword-shaped clenching force.
O katabothron, at thy source.
Xography, cast a xoanon.
Tridimensional, O black swan?
Ballerina, thy blessed balm.
Dancing like dew down frond of palm.
Keckle the kedge, keelhaul the keeve.
Languidly, liquor, lest love leave.
Kier filled with kilderkins of kif.
Cannabis grown by coral reef.
Oceanic rift, occipital.
Taligrade, talionic, trull.
Knarred knobber, knubble. Knor, sore knout.
Krasis, kraurosis. Crisis, clout...