Long Condone Poems
Long Condone Poems. Below are the most popular long Condone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Condone poems by poem length and keyword.
I, Zechariah, was a faithful priest.
My, wife, Elizabeth, and I were known
for following God’s laws unfailingly.
No veering from the Scriptures, we’d condone.
Though we were blessed, there was a painful void.
My wife could not bear children. Long I’d prayed,
“Please give us, Lord, a child.” But we grew old,
without a miracle of life displayed.
According to set customs for the priests,
the lot of burning incense fell to me.
While people at the Temple prayed outside
this area, an ANGEL I did see!
I was afraid. The Angel said, “Fear not,”
and added that my wife would bear a son.
We were to name him John. He would bring joy
to many. Through him, God’s work would be done.
Filled with the Spirit even in the womb,
in God’s eyes he would be considered great.
He’d turn the hearts of many back to God
and make paths for the coming Savior straight.
My doubt was clear: “We’re old. How can this be?”
“God sent you this good news,” the Angel said.
“I’m Gabriel. Due to your unbelief, . . .”
What followed filled my heart with shock and dread!
“You will be mute till after John is born.”
I’d lingered with my duties for so long
that others at the Temple wondered why.
I couldn’t speak to tell them what was wrong!
God kept His promise, as He always does.
Elizabeth gave birth. Some kinfolks thought
that he should have my name, but she said, “NO!
His name is John.” Then my desire was sought.
“His name is JOHN!” I wrote. My tongue was loosed.
I praised the God of Israel with joy.
Filled with the Spirit, I then prophesied
about His plans for our new baby boy!
August 1, 2022
entered in the Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
So much for the thrill of rule, of control,
I've had my fill, though I've burdened no throne.
Tis a small, poisoned mind temptation stole,
and loaned cursed gold no greed could condone.
Natural to men - are we not born in fear? -
to see our brothers as foes at our throats.
Each offer of help a well-disguised sneer.
Each curious word an assault o'er our moats.
Swords are drawn! Scowls are flashed! We all conspire,
trapping ourselves in dark walls - tis our fate!
To the offense! Or your life shall expire.
Feed your ambitions - the world shall not wait.
O my soul - tis enough! If I must die,
I wish to see joy, not pain, in their eye.
14 April 2020
A visitor to the Bronx Zoo
Did something she wanted to do,
Which was climb in the space
Where the lions do pace –
Why she did so I haven’t a clue.
One lion got up and he stared;
For a visit, he wasn’t prepared.
The woman then danced
While the lion advanced
Just a bit, but she didn’t look scared.
The incident, drawing much flack,
Didn’t end in a lion attack,
For this visiting meat
In the end, did retreat,
Thus depriving the cat of a snack.
All was naturally filmed on a phone
And the footage to all has been shown.
Still, her hopping the fence,
Though with no consequence,
Is an act that the zoo can’t condone.
Flags are not the problem -
A mindset is the source
Of hatred and despising
And murdering discourse.
Racism’s a phenomenon
Oh so carefully taught
From generation to generation
Hatred must be brought
By those kindred souls
Instructed in the realm
Of hatred and loathing
So their minds would overwhelm
Any sense of logic,
Any sense of right
So they could hate and lynch someone
In the middle of the night.
Many White-mens’ closets
Of skeletons are filled
But Racism washes out
The guilt therein instilled
“Christian’s We”, they do decree
But Christ would not condone
The loss of even one –
Inside their killing zone.
Condemn their rants, condemn their chants
But don’t stand idly by.
When hatred runs unbridled,
To God’s Word must we comply.
Disclaimer: This is a poem about drugs. I do not condone, nor suggest the use of any drugs. However, I unfortunately did live a free and eventually devastating party lifestyle. Which, I do not wish upon anyone. But, they were wrote, and they will be shared. If poems regarding drug use offends you... Please do not read further. Thanks.
First comes the snort, then inhalation
Streaming clouds of energy,
fill a dark and sweat filled room.
A blast of Energy, From Snowflakes of Joy
All quiet, sounds barely audible.
A tiny voice peeps,
"takes another."
Piling a bank of glistening powder
Call them lines, bumps, or rails.
Grasp the bed, after one last grasp of straw
It unleashes its power, a feeling of flight
Floating amongst, puffy nice clouds
My world plays out in fast forward
Deal and sell, Use, then Steal
Fixing all of my fixations
A monster sized blast,
Suddenly, free falling upon
the dirtiest of floors.
Still, undaunted, I, fully swear
There strangely exists appeal
of self inflicted near death,
Blessed, Little reminders,
Random tingling of the arms.
Only appreciated truly, justly
accompanied with sharp chest pain.
St. Paul urges us to practice the most basic
And powerful Christian teachings
To treat each person as part of the Body of Father Christ
St. Paul had been in jailed more than once
No wonder he urged others to be “mindful of prisoners”
As if they themselves were one of them
There are many good people in prison
Who have hurt others by their poor choices
Hard headed decisions
It is easy to judge them as “worthless” or “rotten”
But we do not know what their early lives lacked in comparison to ours
What happened in their mind
And heart to lead them astray
This perspective does not condone crimes
Deny the need for justice
However
No matter what wrongdoing someone did
Each continues to be a human being Filled with the same divine presence that inhabits us
Prisoners deserve to be treated with the basic respect
We desire for ourselves
St. Paul words echo this Gospel teaching
I've given up on the poetic quest
of writing for another Soup contest.
I confess that for many I've written
for with the challenge I was smitten.
Once at sixth, I'd climbed the ranks
but now I'll only say, "No, thanks."
There are several reasons why I quit,
but no longer can I condone any of it.
I started entering when a dare was made
by a Souper who said he could persuade
me to enter contests that determines
which of us would get the most wins.
That fun challenge ended months ago
and one of us earned the right to crow,
but it's safe to say we're still good friends
and that is where the competition ends.
I've many entries, that are not yet judged...
Win or lose, time spent was not begrudged.
About a dozen entries are still "in progress"
but I've decided to take a permanent recess.
The in the momanon
Scratching at reality
as it bites
the head from time
Struggling yawns at insipid dawns
relevance bends and breaks
Front to ???q
uck says the f
defend the loose errs
Keep has been kept
Defy imagine nations
Diction orders the nary
Words twist into swords
lest we test the letters or just be settlers
Take my open hand
no hope and nowhere to land
control and condone the remotest controlled
Rolled and rocked
To a beat that doesn't follow
too morrow worms and tow two moor
Thin king or is it just an ink thing
any one an inkling
Can't follow then don't
Pb is led
All that glitters is not Au
Looking for Ag in the lining
Dread dead add ad a
Live lived veiled deviled and reviled
Knew knew new
Sympathy grows closer with an e
all of us junkies
made from drugs
electron bursts
in dreams of unknown hues
as i walk in deaths corroding shoes
I wasn't there again today
wonder what the man on the stair had to say
This bewildering computer of mine just gives me fits!
I panic when the consarned thing goes on the fritz!
I peruse the baffling manual but that doesn't help me any.
It might as well have been written in Hindustani!
There is no one more computer illiterate than I,
So I must call that guy in India when things go awry!
He patiently checks for spyware and virus infections,
And tests the modem and internet connections.
Today he found no problems during his troubleshoot.
He suggested that I shut down and try to reboot!
As a parting shot he asked if my cursor was working alright;
I reached for the mouse to check - it was nowhere in sight!
At that mortifying discovery I gently hung up the phone.
Consternation reigned - how much more can I condone!
The frayed mouse tail lay there looking so grotesque.
I looked for the mouse on the floor and all about my desk!
Alas, nothing to do but buy another for it to replace.
But wait! Why that Cheshire smile on my pussy cat's face?
"Aha! I think the mystery is solved!" I exclaim to my spouse!
"I think that sneaky scoundrel has swallowed my mouse!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
The wound inflicted, you will never see,
for it lies in the recess of my mind
Internal is the bleeding; let it be!
You try, but peace of mind you can not find
Who is the God you worship? Speak His name!
I want to know; does he condone this pain?
Is He the one who let you maim and shame,
and will he bless you for your proffered bane?
I wonder how you can to slumber yield
Does not your deed weigh heavy on your heart?
The things you've said and done are not concealed
Your conscience surely pleads amends to start
The wound inflicted you will never see
But there is One who sees inside of me
Eileen Manassian