Long Circumstances Poems
Long Circumstances Poems. Below are the most popular long Circumstances by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Circumstances poems by poem length and keyword.
Best wonderful be so grateful
Be thankful in all things
In all circumstances
Be thankful
In all trials and tolls
Be hopeful
For this God's will for you
Who belongs in Christ Jesus
And for in all circumstances be thankful
In every way
And in every day
Be not afraid
For I your God shall not fail
Pray without ceasing
Trust in believing in the midst
In the midst of your trials
Be humble patient kind
For as it rains every day
You are covered
You'll not getting wet
And you will discover in all circumstances
Be thankful but this is the will for you who belong
alas ever so grateful be yet ever so thankful
In all things in all things
11/3/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
1st Thessalonians 5:18
The soul is a funny thing the mind a curious thing the heart a powerful thing
together you would think they would make the most perfect of things but
though I have seen moments of pure glorious, beautiful shining perfection
the hours days and months are dominated by monsters alive and well inside
all of us
I can't pretend to be perfect my life was great until it wasn't and I had my share
of bad decisions to make however I always tried to put out good for any bad
put toward me which in true irony brought a lot of hate toward me and that
for a long time weighed on me along with the habits my decisions made
Then I look at the circumstances around these habits and they seem almost
acceptable because those of us who keep are monsters in check or have managed
to only have a secret to hide and not a demon to incarcerate in our soul space
can't understand things that they learn and see as reality we don't fit in, we feel
too much hurt to easy and often leave the world by means chosen freely
that is another way "only the good die young" is used accurately
Now no one who reads this will think they are being referred to, understandably,
but though that is true it is also false because everyone has the hole opened
up at some point in their life where pain suffering or just the lack of diplomacy
manages to rip you open, and you lose some of that naivety and refill it with anger
and negativity that you put out into the world to grow eventually it explodes into
reality rather its still with you is of no matter it is you either way and you cause what
you let hurt you to begin with a cycle that never ends
The Heart, Mind and Soul built through experience in life and learning through strife
so the negativity you let get to you and you don't hold and turn into positivity
contributes to the life experience of others including me so every time you let
that negativity go remember it changes the entire world in that moment you
made the world so desperatly seeking light a little darker and your soul a little light.
"Thought Of"
(Verse 1)
It's amazing how you make me feel
When I talk to you
If feels surreal
You make me laugh
You make me smile
I haven't felt like this in a while
Can we talk
Get to know each other better
Enjoy each other company
I'm becoming so flattered
No longer shattered
Does it even matter
I think it does
It feels so great to be thought of
(Chorus)
Feels so great to be thought of
I like you now
Maybe one day we'll fall in love
Experience things that we've never had
Let the good outweigh the bad
I'm your prize and you are mine
The ticket I won't decline
You are all of thee above
That's what happens when you're thought of
(Verse 2)
There's no relationship
That does not have flaws
No one is perfect
I'd trade it all
To be loved
From above
In the end I can deal
I know through my circumstances I will feel
What it means
To share each others dreams
If you know what I mean
It has to be chosen by our Father
If it's not then I won't even bother
I rather remain in all your thoughts
So you'll know what being thought of is all about
(Chorus)
Feels so great to be thought of
I like you now
Maybe one day we'll fall in love
Experience things that we've never had
Let the good outweigh the bad
I'm your prize and you are mine
The ticket I won't decline
You are all of thee above
That's what happens when you're thought of
(Hook)
Thought of
It really feels good
To be
What others thought they could
Did you know
It can show
No matter what you've been through
You think of me
And I'm thinking of you
Let's just start
Be a apart
Not each others past
Be a part of something that will last
Repeat until chorus fades
By:Concetta Hardnett
2/15/2015
The arrogance of comfortability can become a disaster
Thinking you can be the master of all circumstances
Can bring on the stubbornness of growth
Some people keep changing partners
To avoid changing themselves
Some people come into your life as a blessing
Some come as a lesson
One cannot stay the same
Change is inevitable and
The change you will give
Can cause a ripple effective that
Can align with changes your partner makes
Don’t be stuck in stubbornness
It calls for deep brokenness and
This will only lead to foolishness
Some people keep changing partners
To avoid changing themselves
Sacrifice is an essential ingredient!
Thinking you can be the master of all circumstances will often show
That the arrogance of comfortability can become a disaster
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
Since I a lad I've chased a thought,
what might have been, this thought I've sought.
Much like Frost's road not taken,
this endeavor soon left forsaken.
As time goes on the older I get,
the things not done I can't forget.
To bring up the past that doesn't exist,
it makes no sense, I must resist.
Yet still my mind will wander freely,
into the hidden realm of possibility.
If things had been different for me,
just where today might I be.
If I had been born to wealth and not to a simple preacher.
If I had had higher education or perhaps a better teacher.
Would things have changed all that much,
to alter circumstances with just a touch.
When I look at my wife and children's faces,
I could not leave them to trade places.
So content I will walk into my future and relish my past.
I think Frost was right, I'm on the right path.
10/4/19
You knocked on my door and it was opened
You asked me for something and I gave it to you.
You asked me for support and you found the best of me.
You came, went and struggled
but you've always found the same person that opened the door the first time.
Supposing we were friends, we walked many roads together.
You called me, I replied,
You were in troubles, I tried to solve them.
You were depressed, I was your pillow to cry on.
You needed my hand to be taken, I was all hands.
My ears to be listened, I was all ears.
Everything I could be or do, my whole life was there for you, my friend.
Those years were my best ones, when I had everything a person can have.
As a humble person, I needed the most important things to survive.
Enough money to pay my bills, food, clothes, and what it really mattered to me, I mean
those friends or specially that friend I was dedicated to.
Suddenly my life changed.
I remember, I tried to tell you about my problems and you've never had the time.
I remember I didn't ask you much, but only to meet you again and I've found disappointments and stories that I couldn't understand.
Now after the years, I was the one struggling, and I dind't find that friend but somebody telling me that circumstances had changed and she had a different life than me, a life where I couldn't fit in.
What it made me think that I couldn't find any support on the person I used to give my best.
Sadly, after many years I found a door I can't never knock on
and an empty space in my future.
O mother, who was so beautiful, yet, troubled with everything
that may affect on the son’s well being; and therefore, grew old.
O mother, who was so elegant, yet, was so concerned about her son;
she always worried and was thinking what if the son wet from
the spring mist, or what if the son falls on the flowerbed;
and therefore, grew senile.
O mother, such a great and virtuous, is well stricken by the years of moons, winds, stars, and clouds, and now, clumsily clinging on the trunk of a big tree, the grown son who stands tall with the root taken deeply in the ground, as a withered thin branch.
When a rain poured violently, the mother who never had a day
of peace thinking of her son, became an umbrella over my head.
When a blizzard raged, the mother who never had a day of serenity
worrying over her son, became a blanket over my body.
Although the umbrella was old, beaten, and spokes were broken,
a drop of rain was unable to wet me. Although the blanket was the rags
sewed here and patched there, the blizzard was unable to take my body heat away.
To give a life to the son, I know the mother,
you underwent the excruciating labor pain,
the pain that is more painful than the chopping yourself with an ax.
To bring up the child as a decent man, I know the mother,
you underwent the trouble after troubles of trials caused by
your mischievous son.
You were the woman of great heart and sagacity,
you, therefore, were able to accept all circumstances with equanimity,
good and ill, joys and sorrows, honors and dishonors;
you offered your life and all to your son with love,
understanding, and patience.
O mother, though you knew it was useless,
you stretched the withered thin branch out in air
to shut out a wild wind that was shaking the tree from the trunk.
O mother, though you knew that the wind was
beyond your strength to hold, but you did anyway,
because you loved your son so much; and as a consequence,
you were violently blown out from the trunk to fall on the ground.
Dear mother, you are, from the tomb where you are lying
as a little stone pillow on the grass,
recalling the memories of happy and joyful moments
while looking at your son proudly; recalling the memories
of tired and sorrowful moments while looking at your son worriedly.
Nothing has a reason to begin with
It is a party of its own with no clothes on
Formulaic intricacies grow wild in mushroom clarity
Causality set in motion by music sounds out loud
Its grasp far reaching, weightless, astounding
On a line of invisibility destiny stretches in a yawn
Violins have no strings to be attached to any song
Held fast in times illusion
Dancing is forbidden in the dark
Freedom is an extension, not exactly hair
Randomly receding in all directions
Time is unwinding on tomorrows blink
Strobe-lights are an afterthought of spinning on
History sinking fast with every drink
Coming to festivities with one shoe missing is wrong
The black one or was it a sneaker
Let me think
Music laughs at circumstances quite like this
But changes tempo as it wishes
Surrounds circles so circular and round
Directs them to their proper corners square
Orgasmic at the edges of forgetfulness in fun and laughter
Circles are not square
Not yet!
The evening is young and has no children
Light the cigarette with caution
Don't forget the curtains
For no other reason than attention to be friendly
Tip the waitress when the party ends
Logic dictates that we leave before we came
That way we can go and never come again
Hi up there in the surface
This is the valley below
How did you reach the surface?
Determination would have to be obvious
It took everything you had in endurance
Your own inspiration was the influence
A desire you knew you had to fulfill
It took a strong will
Perhaps even a sleeping pill
For courage you see
Valleys sometimes people never get out
Figure that one as you are moving about
Purpose must sit in
That is surfacing begins
No cultivate
Reality in relate
Valleys are circumstances being hard knock challengers
Valleys made you ready
Understanding that held steady
No time to fail
Just a smooth surface sail
Valleys are what start the trail
One becomes prepared with a strategy
Valleys out and surfaces in
I see a world of flickering gray
with many shadows fraught with despair
as I slowly walk down the backstreets of my mind
on a journey to nowhere
trapped between the corner of illusion
and reality where yesterday and tomorrow collide
one rushing further away
the other exploding towards me
carrying all the dust and debris of my smoke-filled dreams
that vanished on the broken altar of circumstances
There are no people traveling my backstreets
only shattered glass
that cuts into my bare feet with each step
as I walk closer to my soul
so I may remember the tiny shards
where blood-stained hands
grasp the last remnants of yesterday's window
that had once allowed my tears to roll down its pane
as I stared out into the darkness
searching for something or someone to rescue me
when I heard my soul scream from the pain of betrayal
and felt the world turn cold and uninviting...
9/25/19 contest In the backstreets of my mind