Long Cleanse Poems
Long Cleanse Poems. Below are the most popular long Cleanse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cleanse poems by poem length and keyword.
lot of people act like they don't care when they are depressed or grieving or overwhelmed. But for the most part, they do care. If you're struggling, know that you're not alone. Others are struggling too and there are people out there who can help. Blessings, Love and Light.
"Nothing matters"
(It does matter)
By Michelle Morris
04/10/2024
"It doesn't matter"
"Nothing matters"
"It doesn't matter"
"Nothing matters"
You repeat the same mantra
Over and over again
Do you not realise that
You're only creating more of the same?
If nothing matters to you
You'll keep closing down your Heart
From all the Joy and Laughter
Potential Happiness and New Starts
Hope and Faith in Life itself
Adventures and New Dreams
Don't you even consider that
Your Heart's crying out for Real Meaning?
Connection with Humanity
Friendship and loved ones close
If you don't make time for them
You're going to end up bitter and alone
Because Love and Light always matters
People are deserving of Kindness and Care
To be treated with Dignity and Respect
To be shown Compassion and Fairness
Don't let the Darkness smother your Soul
Don't let the Sadness and Grief forever win
Because you are deserving of Love and Light
But you need to let it come flooding in
To cleanse your Heart and Soul
To help you find your Path
To ignite your Soul's Spark and Joy
To accept your place in the Cosmic vastness
It does matter
It all matters to someone out there
Why not take a chance on Life
And let your Truth become your bearing?
Open up your Heart and Mind
Open up your Soul
Over time you'll come to realise
That it matters way more than you know
© Michelle Morris, 2024
A snow-white deer was downed by a hunter.
A once-in-a-lifetime trophy, he boasted.
Some folks were crimson pissed
because a snow-white deer is very rare,
a sign of good things to come.
An antlered angel... wearing a message
a reminder that God is still present,
still looking after- picking up
after
us.
From the edge of our acid cloud, sludge streams
burning forest of Dali dreams.
Waiting for the perfect time.
The perfect time
to float above the clearing.
To cleanse
To whisper "there are still miracles-miracles abound.
There's still time to turn negativities into lacy dreams.
Knead bullets into butterflies and mustard seeds.
Spin the planet back from black to aquamarine".
To the hunter, it was just a leaping piece of meat
to be silenced-d- skinned- devoured displayed...
owned.
Now the planet people want to bow the hunter down
You know, nail his polyester neck to a forest tree
Perhaps the white deer was a test.
God's barometer, to see where our soul is really at...
Lord I am a sinner
And you grace has supplied
Gives me another chance for eternal life
Jesus I ask of you and the Father
Father God forgive me
Of, ALL my sins from birth until now
Father God forgive me
I'm a dirty one
I don't under stand why God Father you love me so
And I thank-you, for another chance
And I thank-you, for my witness
And Father I thank you God for your blessings
I am dirty
Father
Filthy, Lord God
Dirty I am
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity
I am dirty
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity
Cleanse me in my spirit inside wash my soul
Oh, Father God clean me from flesh, down to the bone and marrow
I'm just a filthy rag cleanse me so that I may don my purple robe
I'm just a filthy rag cleanse me so that I may don my purple robe
6/11/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Copyright © 2018
from anthology "FORGIVEN SOUL"
In the absence of complication
trials and tribulations become distant memories
Above sapphire skies delight sanguine eyes
inspiring forthcoming musings of the mind
Where a restless sea spills upon a barren shore
with concerns for each grain of sand that fills the palm of a hand
Before they slip through the fingers of reflection
where all the grains are washed away with time
To return once again to the mind's sea
of perpetual motion and changing tides
To cleanse the soul and remove the conflicts
that grew beyond the realm of comprehension
Freed of this languished darkness
the musings of the mind now grant expectations
that is greater than an understanding wish
and allows sanguine eyes to find peace in a sapphire sky
11/17/19 contest Complete the Poem
I did not even think, lo, that you would erupt,
Like lava from a wild volcano, so abrupt;
You are not mere water raised as a vapor,
Nor imaginations unwritten on paper;
Instead, you are my hopelessness and helplessness,
Breaking into waves of oceans of recklessness...!
My emotions pile up like Ice Mountains and hills,
Melt by the summer sun of feelings heart brim-fills;
I turn helpless as a child fell into a pond,
I plead reasons and reasonableness, to bond;
None dares to perforate the holes of my tears,
Is this because each element has its own fears...?
O my tears, I love you because you are unique,
You push yourself in full hope and when faith is bleak;
In birth and death when in mixed emotions you move,
My moods, on and off, you approve and disapprove;
You are like rains or gales that cleanse the earth,
Having shed you in abundance I gain new birth...!!!
17 June 2023
Teardrop Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
*****;;; *****
l.
tears rip at the seams of memories’ betrayed trust
like liquid fists gushing through desolate waterfalls
gargling bloodied sobs upon lungs lumped with crust,
wet, wet on crumbled sagas of tortured, brick walls
this is the pang of swallows falling dark… the pain,
of a painful tear ravished by sins doubly committed
by spiked wrists slit by eyes’ deceit on pelted rain,
cracks of tinctured vapors stain these suds not quite acquitted
ll.
still, there are tears robed in delight of embroidered nights
and perching there, radiance’s rafters spin overlapping joy,
swarming the soul with giant suds whitening all whites
as giggles lift cottoned pillows only love’s fullness can buoy
i think of rekindled homes knighted by flutes’ ripeness
where children paddle days virginal without attic of fears
a maze of hoisted jaunts open zipped stars’ need for madness,
in times marinated gingerly sweet by life’s lush beat... such are tears,
they cleanse all. they crawl out of soul’s dual spears.
all rights reserved
©
********************
(( for HGarvey Daniel Esquire's " Personify a Tear ))
by nette onclaud
face in a large bag of ice
trying to forget that i was in love with you
when the only kiss is a phone conversation so acidic,
how can you cleanse and warm the soul and turn the ice into water
perhaps it is these warm teardrops steadily traveling down my face
it is as if we feigned all the magic moments
did we tire of each other so quickly that we did not even have time to savor savoring
all i know is as i turn blue, i am clear and free of all that was poison to my soul
until my breaths of becomes labored and slurred,
i put my face in a large bag of ice
continuation is not an option
oh, how i would love someone to either talk me out of it or talk to me period with an abundance of exclamatory
my life seems like it has been an endless array of many a nocturnal pathway
the fork in the road has finally spooned me up
meanwhile, the ice slowly but surely is beginning to do the trick
i patiently await the time when a forgotten entity is born
Do you ever write….just to write
Just to let your heart explode
Into a kaleidoscope of word colors
Embellishing the page of someone's life?
Does everything have to be a contest?
Guided by a theme
You forget the dream
Of your own magnificent thoughts?
Do you ever write…just to write
To release that fantasy
That prowls around in that gilded cage
Not sage
Not tamed
But that wildness that you keep
hidden inside
oh so unbridled
savage!!
Let it go free
unleash it for me
Write!
Write and break the bars of norms and forms
Of expected rules and lines
Rhymes and syllable straight jacket crimes
Oh…do you ever write
to let that madness free?
Do you ever write…just so you can breathe
To let go of pain so deep
the scream that tears across the page
Primal rage
At all who did you wrong
Killed and butchered your song
Eating you alive
Demon cries
clothed in sheep words by others
Not you
Let it be heard
That rebel yell
From internal hell
"cleanse me!"
Let your tears drop on the page
spent of rage
Knowing I will feel
empathy symphony of kindred souls
Write
For YOU
Write
For ME
Write
For what will be
No contest consternation
Just…
an disrobing of "spirit's clad in veils"
a naked camaraderie
we are both the same
What a shame
To twist and turn
And dress to please
Someone whose
taste may be stale
Who knows not how to tease
PLEASE
Just
Write
For you
Write
For me
And that contest
for NOW
Just
LET IT BE!
I want to see
Your naked soul!
Eileen Manassian
The quotation is from Christopher Cranch's poem, Gnosis...I will share an
excerpt of this amazing poem...
Gnosis
THOUGHT is deeper than all speech,
Feeling deeper than all thought:
Souls to souls never can teach
What unto themselves was taught.
We are spirits clad in veils;
Man by man was never seen;
All our deep communing fails
To remove the shadowy screen.
Heart to heart was never known;
Mind with mind did never meet;
We are columns left alone
Of a temple once complete.
Like the stars that gem the sky,
Far apart though seeming near,
In our light we scattered lie;
All is thus but starlight here.
Christopher Cranch
So...let's disrobe and undress...without rules...Let's confess. Let our light
shine...not scattered but whole...body and soul.
Each element of who she is, is scattered on the grass,
with the scent of earth, the drop of rain,
where dew reflects a sky of blue.
Her senses are illuminated to harmonize within,
with a howling wolf, a roaring bear, the song of evening wind
She walks within a dreamlike world, which cannot be defined.
This puzzle we have come to know has no border, nor an end.
When life begins, a tiny seed, is strewn, tossed from the vine,
and picks up speed on feathered wing and touches the divine.
She is daughter of the autumn, and mother of the spring.
Her euphonious legend, an extraordinary thing.
It passes through the blossomed branch of all the sprouted trees.
She is young at heart, and old with drought,
she is strong, and bold, without a doubt, is stalwart through the night.
Standing proud against the darkness, and the sins of those who mar,
her spirit is unbroken, by the scars of bitter blight.
She honors creatures with respect, where unison is found,
with all things wild, whether large or small, ...for every life is gold.
Her songs are as a journey, and frolic in the breeze.
There is prowess and a valor in her lavished synchronies.
Her flute will share her story, in the sound of lonely larks,
of loss, rebirth, of drifting sands, and sweet hours after dark
For yesterday creates today, with a promise for tomorrow.
When songs are played, it can bring us hope, in the laughter of the birds.
Each whisper of a clearer sky, will gently cleanse the smoke,
and buffalo will graze again, the tall green grass will wave again.
The golden sun will rise again, to warm her every word
____________________________________________________________________
10/22/14 Inspired by Contest sponsored By Debbie Guzzi
Resubmitted for Skat's Contest "Premiere Number 7"
Do not go gentle into morning light
Young souls should burn and rave at start of day
Rage, rage against the coming of the night
Though wise men at their dawn know toil is right,
Because their deeds must fork some lightening they
Do not go gentle into morning light
Good men, the first wave high, knowing how bright
Their great deeds must now cleanse a putrid bay
Rage, raging against the coming of the night
Wild men, who free the blazing sun in flight,
And learn, too late, earth burned along the way
Do not go gentle into the coming night
Young men, near prime, who see with lucid sight
Keen eyes must see like soldiers in the fray
Rage, rage against the coming of the night
And you, my daughter, here on the glad height,
Curse, bless, mankind with your fierce zeal, I pray
Do not go gentle into morning light
Rage, rage against the coming of the night.
Eileen Manassian
Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night is one of my favorite poems. Dylan Thomas has written a masterpiece. I wanted to write a poem that isn't about the regret that comes with facing death, but rather the awareness that comes from knowing that the dawning of a new day brings with it opportunities to be grasped. I've mirrored some of what he has written and added my take on issues of life and death. There are references in my poem to the need to be environmentally aware. I welcome your feedback.