Long Concurs Poems
Long Concurs Poems. Below are the most popular long Concurs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Concurs poems by poem length and keyword.
the end nears with Jesus and witches
let us hope there are no more glitches
little baby wears a mask in the manger
conceived socially distant without danger
no Golgotha crowd but liked tweeted clips
zoom calls for blurring out the Lords hips
immaculate censorship under lockdown
Amazon send the Saviour a virtual crown
due to panic buying there is no shortfall
of hygienic wipes for disinfecting our wall
by divine fortune rusty nails are also on offer
only the blood of Christ is scarce to proffer
Netflix shows reruns of a sound-bitten tale
a broker insists Christmas must be for sale
Wall Street continues with arms as a treasure
delivers lost lives and legs for good measure
conspiracy theorists say the Messiah was real
Wikileaks concurs but is brought to heel
by purveyors of halos spiked rosaries and zeal
as smoke cries for free ashes for dispersal
on graves boneyards and rotten rehearsal
a cat pees on the tree and needs to be spayed
Sigmund Freud calls for complex castration
of subconscious death wishes and propagation
in need for seeds to be neutered for creation
reality caves in and we must remove the stone
together we’re united Sisyphus is never alone
video calls remind us that the virus lives on
crosses borders without passports to and from
no visa required no customs only free trade
for hypocrisy bigotry Egos not easily slayed
what I would give for rewinding the legend
and attend carol singing and school’s pageant
in person not be stuck with oversized meals
walk freely to food banks attempting to heal
falsity ingratitude injustice entitlement schism
the infant itself may not be above criticism
but glitter and presents wrapped in blindness
are no substitute for love and true kindness
compassion does not require an opulent mall
no masses no pining nor spruce ever so tall
It’s time for reflection faith reason emotion
not notional piety and once yearly devotion
for Christ’s sake let’s stop moaning and start
to share from a warm and good-natured heart
24th December 2020
Monday, 15/7/2024, 20:23:00
It was late. Time to say goodnight.
As I waved goodbye at my front door.
You gave me your hand to help me walking down the steps.
I sang "Take my hand, take my whole life too"
You "For I can't help falling in love with you"
You recited me the title of that song.
The next Morning, I checked online and found that song.
I went to M Central, and hogged the piano,
Amazingly, within 30 minutes,
I managed to play and sing it.
It was the first song I ever played and sang along with it.
Before that day, I could only play melodies,
But never be able to do what I did for you.
Later that evening, when you paid me a visit.
I jumped on the Keyboard and asked if you would like to hear,
The song "Can't help falling in love".
You quickly stopped me from playing it.
You explained you had heard enough of it,
While growing up with your family.
I knew there was much more than that.
You had a crush on that Asian primary school girl friend and lost her.
The song reminded you of your heart broken time, and
You wanted no one bringing back your lovesick time.
BB, if you can't let go of the past,
You will never be able to share your future with anyone,
Including the one you love, if you have one.
But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children
come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God
belongs to such as these.”
—Luke 18:16 NIV
WHAT’S HAPPENED TO JORDAN
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that a kid with sideways horns, pawing hoof,
saw the masses using imperfect tongues
with elbow grease, praising God with their lungs.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that letting the children come, is no goof…
that glancing behind, the aisles were well lit
with eyes and ears saint-bright; faithful, tight-knit.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof.
He pounds on the drums. He’s raising the roof.
He concurs with youth. Ears incline to him.
He married Wisdom. They’re verve is a hymn.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof -
though he stumbled, God made him shatterproof.
And as the saying goes, “God don’t make junk.”
No whiskey in hand - only Spirit-drunk.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that his progeny, raised right - not aloof.
He’s raising young men with Christian morals.
Hero, on white horse, unsung with laurels.
Standing erect as a pillar of light,
we dwell in staid peace, outside space and time,
observing all worlds by spherical sight,
there being no new peaks we wish to climb.
Knowing all manifest worlds are dream forms,
wherein to engage, we must enter trance,
blown like a leaf in duality’s storms,
we opt for bliss, where erect is soul’s stance.
Though free from desire, compassion yet stirs,
in our ever aglow toroidal heart,
which with rhythm of God’s magnetism concurs,
deeming all souls as one and none apart.
To serve this end, our will we therefore bend,
descending, that a helping hand we lend.
Descending, that a helping hand we lend,
we refract our light, just like a rainbow,
looking upon which, the lost may ascend,
from darkness to light and truth of God know.
To aid others, we must first remember,
who we really are, a shining star,
to which end, ego we must dismember,
reconnecting with God, Who seems afar.
Ego thrives on thought and thought on desire,
seeking objects which we wish to possess,
amidst fleeting illusions, our quagmire,
with freedom found only when we undress.
Our quest for God-search, if we’re to jump start,
we must choose to shift from head to the heart.
We must choose to shift from head to the heart,
befriending silence by ceasing thinking,
invoking grace by adding love to cart,
attaining thus awareness unblinking.
In truth upon birth, we each are as such,
living fully in the eternal now,
embracing, releasing, learning by touch,
allowing Holy Spirit to endow.
So back to the beginning, we unlearn
by relinquishing conditioned belief,
that as grace ignites our mind-body urn,
wayward ego drops off, like a dead leaf.
Drenched in bliss mists, boundless is our delight,
standing erect as a pillar of light.
Bulky ute voyeur selects sleek sporty stalion
Driving by, supersedes her oversized sedan
Wide wheel arches have Porche comparison
Voracious engine's enthuse easily enchants
Large car cast dispelled by lacklustre Calais
Original conjur 370Z parked beside boring
Low leg swing exclusive slide in, magic valet
Over revved start stabs adrenalin assuring
Our dear Dara, choice contacted in December
Available last minute to test drive his beast
Black gloss road boss, enlarged 'lungs' terror
Capable crazy bitumen baby, tester pleased
Ultimate Man concurs, the amenable outcome
Keys in her hand a few days after, aura froze
Couldn't imagine huge generosity from anyone
Racing car reap, increase on what she sows
Merry go round roads, another showoff slotted
Silver pole stabilised glides in Surfers cycle
Crosslane carousel onlookers, briefly besotted
By hot hoof nimble Nissan race horse style
28th March
Too Great of a Man
Thanks to all those brave souls,
the trail blazers
that has gone before us.
They who fell in love,
back when white society
wasn't so excepting or
was intolerant of mix marriage.
Love is made of tough stuff,
couples had it ruff.
So, for a while, some lovers even
kept a low profile.
This has been going on for a long while.
But they took a leap of faith anyway,
staying to themselves.
Love will not be denied.
Now days you see mixed couples everywhere...
Not just in and around military bases.
Today it’s not a shock,
but a pleasant surprise.
Seeing couples and their kids,
from different ethnic back grounds.
And even different size,
skinny and obese.
Both straight and Gay,
more than just Black and white.
As Day follows Night,
all kinds of races mixing it up.
One has only to open your eyes to see,
the mixing of the of the melting pot.
Which is hot!!
Love truly concurs all.
God has taken the spoon
and stirred the melting pot,
from the top of the rim
to the bottom of the bowl.
Your front view, might be stunning;
Your back stunt as well be cunning
Whenever you walk on busy street-
Hearts' eyes blink to skip a beat...
But beyond that are much more
Than what eyes alone could explore...
Like minds would view with intent clues,
Unto caution to be far away timing cruise
When not driven by the appropriate attitude,
Engrossed by SORRY but not also gratitude
Cum little concern to a bit of help as surety,
When beaten to crazy bets off maturity...
Then comes a beautiful mindset,
That's more attractive than regret,
When beauty alone couldn't bail out worries...
Indiscipline sets in from how caution horries
Away from frown that warns,
Cos it's painful more like thorns;
Frustrating logical fights' set back-
Reasoning far above lustful attack.
It is tough but shameful,
We have come to a time
Where decency is a crime,
Yet imprudence is beautiful.
A time:
Where character ain't cherished,
Let alone of value like treasure
To be treated with delight and pleasure,
But rather be left behind till it perished.
A time:
Where loyalty in friendship,
Don't count as much as benefits...
But cherished more of what look befits-
Each face of the day despite the hardship.
Your inner beauty,
Is your ideal choice-
Of how, what, when to voice...
With care, value, trust cum duty.
Often, lust normally don't seek beyond look...
Accompanied by nice gestures,
Until deceived mind concurs,
Then needs arise what beauty can't hook.
Lifes backroads, have left my halo....A little dusty
And there's scars on my heart, I'll carry...To my grave
Every Sunday, I see her, two pews away
I refer to her, as my saving grace
And I give thanks, knowing she prays for me
I don't know what I've done to deserve her
I'm not sure what her heart can see
Cause I'm not worthy of her blessings
And in all honesty
I can't give back what she's given
Without her where would I be
I'm blessed, just knowing.....
Knowing she prays for me
She lifts up her words.... to Heaven
And In silence, I believe she asks
If the Lord, will watch over
And straighten all our paths
She sends her blessings on high
And I hope she truly believes
It's an honor, in knowing......
Knowing she prays for me
I don't know what I've done to deserve her
I'm not sure what her heart can see
I'm not worthy of her blessings
And in all honesty
I can't give back what she's given
Without her where would I be
I'm blessed, with just knowing.....
Knowing she prays for me
It's my honor to do life with her
I'm not sure why, but I believe that she concurs
Its a blessing to know
Know she prays for me........
Self respect. Where did it go?
This generation just don't know.
Like the present of a past known all too well.
"So many dying, in the air the bodies I smell".
"One man killed, one sitting in jail".
Already too many burning In hell.
Sons and daughters in holding cells.
Life without parole, with no bail.
Mommas asking God where did she fail.
Self respect. Where did it go?
This generation just don't know.
Devils knocking on Heavens door.
Looking for more falling Angels to store.
Already enough rich people looking down at the poor.
The Armor Of God is what you should have wore.
People who care, we need more.
I mean more of the rich to bless the poor.
Love concurs all for sure.
Self respect. Where did it go?
This generation just don't know.
The wicked don't care. Their just cruel and mean.
That brother died. He had dreams.
Set up by them feans.
Children left behind, without a father.
Momma standing strong, the Lord gave her the power.
Self respect, where did it go?
This generation just don't know.
Self respect. Where did it go ?
This generation just don't know.
Self respect, where did it go?
This generation, just don't know.
The catalyst of two faces, his and hers,
bookends with pleasure dais in between.
Faithfully compacted on canvas, concurs,
never turning ones back, remains clean.
Sharp brush of Chagall, floats lovers.
Their passion, a cloud in lala land, hovers.
Circus performer on ochre horse forbids
openness and honesty of their lofty eyelids.
Marc’s pallet red and black succinctly
paints an inseparable couple, for better;
worse, flower-veins glory and pain distinctly
shady, married-hair worn romantic with fetters.
Poet decides his circus lacks an idyllic affinity .
With pain, questions whether to smoke or abstain.
A satisfied artist, elongates his masculinity —
triad of instruments, hard lines against grain.
11/25/2020