Long Comfort Poems
Long Comfort Poems. Below are the most popular long Comfort by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Comfort poems by poem length and keyword.
On this day of love and light
Two hearts come together, shining bright
As they stand before family and friends
Their journey of love and commitment begins
Today, two souls become one
In a union that will never be undone
With every vow and every kiss
Their love will be sealed in eternal bliss
May the sun shine upon their path
And their love be strong, never to falter or pass
May their union be blessed with joy and peace
And their hearts always be filled with love's sweet release
As they journey through life, hand in hand
May they always cherish the love they've found
And with each passing year, may their bond grow strong
As they dance together to the rhythm of love's song
So here's to the happy couple, on this special day
May their love light the world in every way
May they always find comfort in each other's embrace
And may their love be a shining example for the human race.
The truth
in which
lies
are ever told,
how injustice
is
anything
but in bold.
How I wish
the watery
essence
from
a frying
pan,
could
stain my eyes,
How I dream,
there
was an undoing
of this child's first cries.
My mother's cradle,
only ever wished
in truth
to snap my neck,
like a wild man,
let loose to Geese
in numbers.
My back,
aches
in this slumber,
how I wish,
I could just
float like
the dust and
be absorbed
into non-existence.
My breath
was never here....
The hypocrisy
surrounding
cuddling of bears,
humanity spared
me affection.
Perhaps out of
devotion
so I would feel
even less
of a fish on a reel,
eye contact, I
can't let go off,
sympathizing
becoming...
clubbing of the seals
is our sad reality.
I refuse the peel,
to go further in depth.
I shake with anxiety at nights,
windows that do shake,
no hand, young or elderly
can comfort me here..
My eyes are darkened
when,
once they were beautiful green.
It was never my nature,
to be hateful,
I was the most loving child,
who grew survival
instincts
in how to be weary
in how beginnings
relate to the ends.
I should have died,
a long time before this....
Friends
In the tapestry of life’s grand art,
there are best friends, close to heart;
With laughter bright and shoulders strong,
they walk with us, to where we belong.
Through every joy and every tear,
their presence brings a comfort near;
In whispered secrets, dreams unfurled,
they are our anchors in this world.
With every trial, every test,
they stand beside us, giving rest;
Their faith in us, a guiding star,
no matter where, no matter how far.
In silent moments, in the fray,
they understand with no delay;
A bond so deep, it can’t be seen,
in every joy and in between.
They share our triumphs, lift our fears,
with hugs that heal and words that cheer;
In every step, in every start,
they hold a place within our heart.
So here’s to friends, so true and kind,
in them, a rarest gem we find;
With endless love and steadfast grace,
they fill our lives, our hearts, our space.
As best friends are our family, we can choose,
in every win and every bruise;
Forever close, forever near,
they are the ones we hold most dear.
Written August 4, 2024
© Dr. Upma A. Sharma
Those are small.
They can take control.
Cloud reason in your mind.
The comfort that lies within.
Is pure, it doesn’t need anything.
A brighter light can be found when you’re standing on solid ground.
Some see it as shield.
Some need it to face the day.
Some need it to face the night.
Especially in the time of now.
When an easy fix is in plain sight, why put up a fight.
It can ease all your pain.
It can stop you from facing your blame.
It can be your ally, your best friend but is that real or only real pretend.
My choice is to come away. Say goodbye and find a better way.
Look at my reflection and see the man who doesn’t need it to hold his hand.
Look deep into my eyes, see the issues and listen to my cries.
Flick that switch and disconnect it from the main.
Don’t let those little bottles come back again. The damage they cause is not worth the pain.
Internal damage proven without a doubt, mental damage to ease mental scars.
But those little bottles will not destroy me like they have members of my family.
I’ll face life and all the pain, accept my weaknesses and own my blame. But I’ll sleep better every single night because now I don’t need to fight those small bottles standing in my way.
Loathe, an honest man must be,
to admit delight in the dark.
The fascination of blurred sensations ...
The quieting of the mind's endless machinations ...
As consciousness narrows to a single contemplation ...
like the gaze from a window in a warm, cozy house,
into a wild, wintry dance of snow.
Yet, I must admit this poison I drink freely
is tasteful to me beyond its mere taste.
And I avert eyes when I skirt the painful truth -
that I enjoy the way it subdues my mind and will,
the way it offers false comfort through temporary ignorance of responsibility,
the way it makes simple things brim with sudden significance,
as though seen for the first, or from the eyes of a child.
And there's even some part of me that wishes to see,
how much it will take to whelm over me.
With each sip, gulp, and glass, I dare liquid luck
to break my mind, my control, my genius - if it can!
Some genius it is who takes delight
in constant recalculations
of what it takes to dim his light.
5 September 2020
When we finally get home none of this will matter,
All the years spent killing will end in one final battle,
Tears locked in bottles will pour out like rain,
That is when we will truly obtain,
The mysteries of the human race,
The times on earth we felt misplaced,
The horror of our loved ones never showing genuine embrace,
This life will be forgotten,
All the years we fought to win,
We will be like little children again when it all begins,
So why can’t we just listen to the wind and rest assure,
That the heavens made rach one of us for so much more,
Why do we get stuck in entwining webs,
Turning true love into tiny threads,
Saying peace then turning away,
From everything our mouths do say,
Many are emotionally dead inside,
Most of us just find it easier to run and hide,
But you can’t run too far,
For our maker made every star,
He knew each trial and knew we would fall,
Yet, he still loves us all,
Many humans have lived to hate and kill,
Longing to have anything to temporarily fill,
The voids and constant shame,
Opening doors and then pushing the blame,
Longing to be right when thry are so very wrong,
Saying they are not weak and that they are strong,
Holding on to prejudices, poision and fear,
While the time of redemtion is drawing near,
Instead of holding each other’s hands,
Restoring peace to our land,
Humility can heal this great Nation,
Bring forth comfort, restortion and true revelation,
Regardless, someday every knee will bow,
Let’s take the time now,
To renew our everlasting vows.
By: Sabina Nicole
To have the greatest family ever known
After so many years you stand here alone.
You try to grieve and let go, after all life isnt forever
But each time the heart crumbles screaming "No never!"
Still years pass just the same
Ignoring the hurt, closure never came
Afraid to accept it and where thier memory may go
Alone and lost, not wanting vulnerablility to show.
Knowing each night as you look up at the stars above
They will forever be remembered because of your love.
You spend your nights and days hating the cancer that took them away
Someone finding a cure is all you pray
Wanting only to be back in the comfort of days gone so long
Hopelessly lost nowhere to turn nor to belong.
Yet one foot keeps being set in front of the other
I carry on regrettably missing the best brother, sister, and mother.
Grief conceals itself
behind a veil
of anger, fear, and disbelief:
and yet, it invades your every thought.
In your heart, you want to lash out
at Death:
to send the hurt back!
Grief clings to Death:
and in so doing
devastates the living.
Your world shrinks
to memories:
reflected in pools of tears.
And life loses its spark:
a part of you is missing;
leaving a hole in your heart.
Time is but a concept
of the mind:
it has no power over grief.
And yet, there is something
stronger than time,
that can numb the pain, and comfort the soul:
a faith, fueled by love, hope, and trust.
I walk the same path every morning…bright and early…every day…where I’m greeted by the same sounds…the same trees…the same animals along the way.
I never find it boring..and no….I’m not a nut…it’s just I find my solace and my comfort in what some would call…my rut.
Today I was a little shocked when my routine became disrupted…when my normal path was blocked and my walk was interrupted.
It was obvious my walk today wouldn’t be like every other day…that in order to finish what I started…I’d have to walk another way.
Quickly realizing this little glitch didn’t warrant my worry or my wrath…I took a little detour…down a less familiar path.
I decided to embrace my detour…so on and on I pushed…until I noticed up ahead of me…a rabbit in a bush.
It seemed to me the more he tried to hop away…the more he would stay put…and the more the leaves and branches of that bush became entangled with his foot.
I leaned down saying, “Don’t worry little rabbit…I took a wrong path too…it seems that you are stuck…let me see what I can do.”
The rabbit sensed I was not dangerous…he seemed to understand..he knew that I was here to help…still…he closely watched my hands,
I worked with his foot and the bush…being as gentle as I could be…and in a little while…the rabbit’s foot was free.
“Hop away little rabbit…your foot is free.” I cried…and after a moments hesitation…the rabbit tentatively complied.
He hopped around a little bit…then turned around as if he wanted to say…
Thank you…for your help…before he finally hopped away.
And I wondered if my normal path being blocked was a coincidence…or could it possibly be…I was sent in this direction because a rabbit needed me.
I guess I’ll never know…but never again will I be shocked when my everyday routine becomes disrupted…when my normal path is blocked…when my walk is interrupted.
“Female”
What effort and measure of resilience does it take
to deliver into this world reaped from a seed
planted by plunder, some call love, some call disaster
the breaking of inner limbs
the cracking wide-open of a new world
the sap that bleeds scarlet
across white sanitized hospital sheets,
or that unsung She-warrior stranded
amongst burning bullets and bombs
in a wide-open muddied battle field?
listen -
a woman’s screams
and a child enters the world
to tell their own story -
their first cries
like a song they vociferously sing
and a woman becomes or not
a first Home, that is loved or not,
yet for the life of the child
in some form or another,
despite the urgency to separate,
the woman in mind, never leaves
the woman will always call
her girl-child back in
the woman in the girl back-turned, still listens,
for something, like unsung comfort or
love, reassurance, the mother-load
at the end of days
the woman will collect all her dreams back into her
in a solitary place not of war but of peace
such strength commands all from a position
of pain and joy embedded in open neutral territory,
no borders or walls remain here, in this place
like a fury
like a fate
she will call all children in
and deliver them
the story of wolves
Candide Diderot. ‘25
“The girl burst out laughing; she knew she was nobody's meat.”
Angela Carter, The Company of Wolves
“There’s something about a woman with a loud mind that sits in silence, smiling, knowing she can crush you with the truth.”
“When the world tells you to shrink, expand.”
“Women are the real architects of society.”
“I’m grateful to be a woman. I must have done something great in another life.”
Tall poppies.
Intoxicating, addictive poppies.
Heroine.
for her, freedom, love, strength, symbolism
birth, creation, survival, legacy
stories -
gvlm.