Long Condemns Poems
Long Condemns Poems. Below are the most popular long Condemns by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Condemns poems by poem length and keyword.
Difficult to understand are the languages spoken by life
“he who works should eat,” but why the constant shift of the goal post?
Seriousness in following principles may lead one to be swallowed by the earth
I have always been an adult, let me be taken care of, like a neonate this day
So, I dashed to the nearest eatery with what should be enough.
Sitting in the restaurant gave me the grace of the countryside
a receptive bar tender thankfully indicates no alarm of fire or smoke
but the Menu condemns my class to neutralize any victorious smile,
half glass of a common drink and a piece of snack is not my trend,
nothing bad to have a first time in almost a lifetime.
Half way my meal, the one seated opposite me becomes too generous
to a limitless order he offers and gives the unsolicited visa
with the assurance of sponsorship from a well-populated pocket.
A massive top up from my command that flowed with audacity
as half my table causes, in the arena, an arm-length of goose bumps.
Those in white suddenly come in to capture a refugee of mental institution,
a threat to society who escaped, and he sits right in front of me,
it was six to one; yet the drag to the door is labored.
When bad luck meets greed, misfortune grows to a grandfather
I stare in irredeemable shock to my order that can feed half an orphanage.
All I ask of you
is to let me go.
You have not wronged me.
Perhaps it is simply that
I cannot survive being known.
I do not want anyone,
and I do not want you.
I know this will hurt you.
Honesty is often mistaken for cruelty -
still, I mean every word.
It is not safe out here.
I do not want you.
I do not want any of them.
I do not want your violence
or your torment.
The lies.
The cries.
The life I disguise.
The love you withhold,
and the hurt you devise.
And you, my love -
more than anything,
I cannot let you see me.
I fear it is already too late.
Why can you not let me go?
Why do you keep returning?
I do not want you to know my anguish.
I do not want it
to know you.
I do not want conversation,
or comfort,
or concern.
I do not want your reassurances.
I do not want your pretending.
I do not want your anger.
I do not want your sorrow.
I do not even want your happiness.
Perhaps that condemns me.
Perhaps it is selfish.
For that,
I am sorry.
I am afraid.
I do not run because I hate you.
I am afraid.
It is not safe out here.
I was never meant for this world.
Look at me.
Look how faithfully
I follow what harms me.
So for my final act of love,
I will leave.
Do not follow me farther.
Do not mistake my distance
for a plea to be saved.
Go.
And do not return.
If there is any mercy left in me,
it is the hope
that my disappearance
might spare you
from becoming lost beside me.
Go, now.
Run while you still can.
These barren walls
Keep me chaste
Vows of silence
Diminish nothing of wanton passions of the past
Days in silence, looking upwards to God
Thoughts linger, to where true love lies
I toil in Gods works
Knees now as rocks
All of Gods floors, so clean
Daily rituals, in quiet do I share
Our virtues preserved, hidden from worldly sins
But I have loved, yes, and long I still do
Illusions of piety, they scare me not
Love stirs goodness, surely no sin
The days of eternal springs
Gardens so fresh, flowers in bloom
Hand in hand, with his intellect and charm
Beauty within, for we dared the philosophical
Arms and legs entwined, deep in thoughts
My professor of life, and thinker to all
He belonged to France
Nobility, and all
We parted in love,
Who sees my tears, behind these walls?
Our reasoning lost to passions turn
He admits not, the love he yearns
His Order condemns, his inquisitive thoughts
He burns what he writes
Heretic or not
A leader of philosophy, a greatness in his time
A fate, that brings upon me guilt
His torture of manhood, he suffered much pain
Questioning his intellect, is love, his very brain
Each to our separate, Abbeys’ of god
Vows of silence, yet the ink flowed
Reliving now, what surely, should have been
A love so great, why considered a sin?
Has not this society, any compassion at all?
Learned I was in Latin and Hebrew
And so with the pen, letters did flow
And from afar, in pain, our love re-lived
Passions in ink, became again exposed
Alas he is older by a fortnight or many
He longed for love, yet he fights from within
His values, his passions, his life’s dedications
His soul has been burned, wounded by time
Ending his years, thinking seduction undone
Redemption shall be waiting, from the heavens above
My love Abelard, my tears you never saw
I was strong, as you gave me the strength to be
And I, was happy, knowing our desires shared
The angels will tell you, your fame will endure
For the greatest of all philosophies
Our love will be
Abelard and Heloise are one of the most celebrated couples of all time, known for their love affair... and for the tragedy that separated them.
Abelard (1079-1142)
Heloise (1101-1164)
My shame is my scarlet letter
Sewn stitch by stitch by years
A scarlet letter emblazoned
An alphabet on my chest
A superhero’s symbol disguised
Find me a phone booth
Tear off my Brook Brothers shirt
Pull down my J Crew pants
It’s good to see my scarlet letter
Fly like a speeding bullet
Save us before we fall
Into the maddening crowd
Is it a superpower
When everyone has it too
No man is free from shame
All of us Hesters in disguise
Superheroes without shame
Some heroes act without applause
Some of us for Pearls in oysters
I can hear Dimmsdale’s sermon
My Chillingworth condemns me
My scarlet letter beats on my chest
My shame for all to see
My superpower my weakness
My weakness on full display
God chose the weak in this world
We bring shame to the strong
We are the stones of Zion
We cause the shameless to pause
Look back on our scarlet letter
Shameless in our exposition
Without shame what are we?
Without the scarlet letter
Aren’t we just numbers?
Just meters away from the door's neon light,
Like an eternity in this dark place
A measurement of sighs past midnight,
The silence doesn't care about my face
The silence doesn't even glance at me
The silence is cold in all my ways
The silence condemns me to be free
The silence will be with me, all my days,
Despite the love, despite the burning flame,
Your radiance from my eyes must disappear,
From existence in the sphere of my frame
Your silence must cease to interfere
With the busy misery hidden in my smile,
I will never, to your grace, reconcile.
A cynical never asks himself,
" How a miracle can ever happen when everybody
goes on without faith through their hopeless day? "
I attest this truth with disbelief!
Faithful can pray constantly with bowed head,
hoping God listened to their plea to all spoken words;
how disappointed they are when nothing ever happens:
and amid disarray they their hope turns cold!
Nobody understand how favor is imparted fairly,
God chooses the ones deserving His endless mercy;
the angry preacher with a harsh voice condemns sinners
who don't cleanse their souls with any repenting tears!
Look for drastic signs that foretell events to come,
be ready for what can and will change Man's destiny;
God's word is unbreakable, his promise declares love:
believers are patient and profess their faith devotedly!
They measured my soul
against doctrine
and found
its constellation
too wayward
to be blessed.
Thus I was entrusted
to the reliquary
of uncanonized marvels:
an alabaster raven
whose argent plumage
bewildered midnight;
a chrysoprase chalice,
hairlined with centuries,
yet sweeter
than untouched crystal;
a black asphodel
whose fragrance
outlived every psalm;
and one bent aureole,
still luminous
where perfection
would have fractured.
I entered
the vesper orchard.
Cinnabar fruit
ripened beneath eclipses.
The wind officiated,
censing the dark
with myrrh,
until respiration itself
became liturgy.
There,
obsidian lilies
raised their chalices
beyond the jurisdiction
of dawn.
No scripture
remembered them.
Yet the stars
crossed more slowly
above their perfume.
Upon an abandoned shelf
the pale circumference
of a lifted vessel
remained.
Dust had refused it.
Time had not.
Then every relic
relinquished
its disguise.
The bent aureole
had merely learned
the curvature
mercy requires.
The alabaster raven
was daylight
remembering itself
before colour
accepted obedience.
The fractured chalice
held more heaven
than the cathedral
that refused it.
Your silence arrived
with the faint sweetness
left inside a cupboard
after a cherished vessel
has been lifted away.
Every thorn
forgot blood.
Every serpent
its verdict.
Every stone
its apprenticeship
to violence.
Then the hidden ordinance
of creation
stood unveiled.
Paradise has never dwelt
inside perfection.
Its earliest radiance
has always sought
whatever certainty
condemns first.
The universe keeps its original face
inside whatever perfection
cannot imitate.
We live in the shadows of your cursed survival
not being killed when so many of you were
the endless rows of benighted headstones
telling of memories never to be
where you wander among them
pledging your heart to what unrequited
condemns you to time
we walk together through years of separation
the voices of the dead confirming
the tryst of our silence
forever pretending that a lyric
can be written after the music stops
that its words can be sung by the Angel guardians
of those long departed
and ignoring my devotion
you embrace the rejection of
the one who never loved you back…
the paramour who condemns you to live in misery
and to live with me
—jilted by death
(Watching ‘Hemingway’ On PBS: April, 2021)
In the vastness of the Heavens/
Where shadows twist and sway/
God sits upon His throne/
Craving praise everyday/
A delusional narcissist/
In robes of iron clad might/
Condemns the soul's below/
To eternal, fiery night/
He whispers of love/
Yet rules with an iron fist/
Demanding blind devotion/
A sadistic, twisted tryst/
Freedom of choice/
A mirage in His cruel game/
For seeking higher power/
We are shackled in His name/
How can love and tyranny/
Dwell in one divine embrace/
A God who craves glory/
Yet condemns the human race/
Tripping on insanity/
In His quest for adoration/
He damns those who refuse/
To eternal condemnation/
In fires below/
Where His wrath does reside/
Lies the truth of His nature/
The Devil in disguise/
A sadistic puppet master/
With traits so dark and grim/
God be tripping on insanity/
And we're all bound to him/
Trip, trip, trip, tripping on insanity/
The radiant shine leaves your aurora
dimming ever so quickly,
as in northern regions you are—borealis
falling into the southernmost Sahara
negative gradients descend—australis
The gloss of moral sanction
The glitter of a social butterfly
The prism of a love sonnet
I thought it would never end
False is an outward appearance
Black smoke puffed
charcoal ashes
spread amongst the masses
Snuffed are the soft eider white reminiscence
Left are the burnt embers of memory
Janus face so striking
truant tradeoffs at any cost
totality misleading,
yet, narcissism becomes you
A most plebeian diagnosis
Self-absorbed egotist
with delusions
of grandeur
You’ll popularize
popularity
while it condemns you,
A cowardice,
believing
YOU were a soldier
Yet you hid when all battled for you
a fair weathered friend is no
friend at all
You’ve painted a Renoir of you
an illusion, it's a Goya—El Greco!
A bruting intimacy restrained
a duality in an Art Deco
mask off, mask on
Disguise!
Hide what’s just another espy
I was wrong about you...
Words spread eloquently
A perennial drone others reality
If cruelty, are your real realms
Then I am just another casualty
Taken in by your devilish charms
when Moon and Sun collide
allied with the charred stars
A false hope maker
dream taker,
heartbreaker,
faker
Fare thee well...
You’re of them
No one special after all
a let down
draining
I want no
part of you