Long Conscience Poems
Long Conscience Poems. Below are the most popular long Conscience by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conscience poems by poem length and keyword.
So You Say
By Franklin Price
12/1/2015
So you say you are a Christian
You believe and praise the Lord
Tell of all his teachings
And with him are one accord
Spread his word to others
Tell of his sacrifice
Think the telling of the happening
Should more than just suffice
Do you turn your face from suffering?
Keep more than what you need?
Ignore the poor and hungry?
Put down the one's who don't succeed?
Are you selfish with your earnings?
Keep everything yourself?
Put all of what you've gathered,
Out of reach upon a shelf?
Doesn't seem that you're a Christian
To spread the word and not the deed
If there are extras on the shelf
There are other mouths to feed
There other people hurting
That could use a hand from you
If you believe you are a Christian
That is something you should do
Jesus walked and talked the lesson
Better to give than to receive
Do you feel a little guilty,
Want your conscience to relieve?
Then give a little of yourself
Your money and your time
You'll be the Christian you believe
Being Christian's not a crime.
How long you have been defaulting, you know!
O rain! Dear! Don't you have any conscience?
Growing as dark as dusk, soon you turn snow;
Judge you? No. My folks and I are cautious...!
Just a drop of yours cools my heart and mind,
Like nectar forms within buds with no sound;
I break my silence; Drought gone? I stand blind,
Has my mail for torrents, no answer found...?
In lands of barren-wombs, you have no say,
My existence, just like grass, fades so soon;
This is why I've tried and say, come what may!
False-rain has become my eternal boon...!
These I say, because, I reap and I sow,
How long you have been defaulting, you know!
11 May 2022
"If I kill a wicked person, a liar or Satan
Will I have ever peace or world be peaceful forever?"
-QOUTE BY MAHTAB BANGALEE
I'm well configured animal of nature
I'm THE most intelligent in the animal planet
I'm the best species of homo-sapience
I have to survive as my wish that's why
I need to consume all whatever I want
I’m the omnivorous animal that’s why-
I kill another animal from fauna,
I kill the flora and use other elements of nature capriciously!
I’m civilized, literate; I’ve common sense, conscience
That’s why I want to kill uncivilized, illiterate, and unscrupulous
I dislike lie, envy, ego and all the devilish sense
That’s why want to I kill liar, hater, egotist and Satan
It’s impossible, utterly impossible to kill the devilish sense
That’s why I seek the Devil to kill
I want to kill lie but I can’t; so I kill a liar
I want to kill devilish sense but I can’t; so I kill a wicked person
I can’t kill infectious disease that’s why I kill infectious patient
Out of sights I can’t everything that’s why I can’t control myself
For my overpowering sense sometimes I attempt to kill the self
But in homosapien’s blood and honors
The uncontrollable sense is a permanent contagious virus!
Now, it’s a big question that
If I kill a wicked person, a liar or Satan
Will I have ever peace or world be peaceful forever?
-NOVEMBER 02, 2022
Quote this Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Rick Parise
They manage to keep a fanned flame
These ones with no claim to fame
They don’t trade, build or make
Yet heralds ogle for their sake
And I to myself only wonder
That I find no rhyme or reason in my ponder
But I keep my opinion conservative
For my appetite craves no weird narrative
That one can be famed for nothing
It just doesn’t fit my hearing
Once there was respect for the audience
Until stardom clouded many a conscience
With sound worth one had to be endowed
Before presenting oneself before a crowd
And a few had glimpses of glories
With quotes and works transcending histories
Others galant warriors and wise chieftains
Glorified outlaws and vilified villains
Men had their names on their rights and wrongs
As preserved in folklore, poetry and songs
And until ideology once more underpins
Character, manners and disciplines
Ethics, decency and social order
Evil will have many for fodder
To be grazed on and trampled underfoot
Thinning fortune that another may have loot
And if you cringe at this possible end
Then with every fibre of you strive and fend
For the return of righteousness in our midst
As the bare and common at the very least
K. Muitherero.
No torrid steel rod will cauterize my wounds
I cannot lick these festering gashes clean
Your sharp-bladed tongue has bitten deeply
fangs plunged with each vile cursed scene
No mere prick or scratch did you inflict
as thorns draw drops from a finger laid bare
You severed our dangling cord with a stare
Without gauntlet thrown before you swayed
I was waylaid in the pitfall of vows betrayed
I sat weeping upon moistened ground
faintly hearing your snarling sound
a vile bitterness in your laughter as I stir
If you have a conscience, I shall be its burr
You turned your back and ran away
Now that your cruelty has been done
but there is no victory to be claimed by you
for there is nothing you have won
How often you preyed on others
while you played at being sanctimonious
Liquid courage brings death that smothers
I escaped the hold you once held
before my life was snuffed and felled
I still breathe and I've no fear to speak
It's you who proved to be weak
My tongue holds daggers of its own
whetted on the grindstone of deception
I was hungry for strength, parched with thirst
to take vengeance as my anger grew
Getting even was long past due
But hurting you would label me evil
That's the last thing I ever desire to be
Vengeance will never be mine to take
and accepting that has set me free
Years will pass but I'll never forget
that I once loved you, yet I sorely regret
not realizing the kind of person you are
I've moved on and no longer grieve
while you still swim in the deep dark waters
of your besotted world of make believe
Jungle clamour
Banter twisted like vines
Lions with psyche scars
Monkeys as crackpot sleuths
Snakes in a labyrinth guise
Parrots preen an oily beauty
Giraffes creak in rumpled posture
Immersive labelling
My colleagues salivate slippery ambition
Pre-occupied with image
Our digital frontier, computer glitches
Terrain fighting, coffee muted
Hidden fracturing
Beasts that claw parchment cubicles
Self propelled advancement, perpetually out of reach
Few scraps of conscience
Strong scents prevail
All of us are watchers
seeding what cannot be grasped
spirited wishing
to pass beyond our bars
to re-write uncaged narratives
Poem composed: February 23, 2021
Like dreams ~ as conscience echoes through the dark,
and life's mirage laps upon my shores
where dunes of sand are blown like drifts of snow.
I'm lost ~ alone ~ not knowing where to go,
except between where beach roses grow and...
where love is/was still unforgettable ~ regrettable?
too perfect to ever last?
Like clouds that swept by the August moon and
off 'til morning ...
Was it a mistake to leave you there - to run,
when morning twilight exposed our skin - our sin - our honor?
Now, life leaves us dwelling in one night and a summer
that should never have been, and a tomorrow that
never was......but remains
in my twilight of yesterdays, but not in my twilight
of regrets.........except to never
have seen you again...
Game of pretence, is played out everyday
Our authentic self, seems to have no say
As we go about through needless parlance
Social etiquette cause of dalliance
Oft saying yes, when we wish to say nay
Hypocrisy becoming our mainstay
Subterfuge as way of life, here to stay
Silencing gentle voice, of our conscience
Game of pretence
Shifty eyes, lips that lie, thread of truth frays
One-upmanship our norm, the wayward way
Oh hermit! How will we pay our penance
Having consigned our heart to decadence
How much longer will lower mind hold sway
Game of pretence
16-February-2021
Open poetry 2 poetry contest
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
In the dust of Thessalonica’s street
where sandals scuffed the stones
and rumor of the sky splitting open
hung like thunder not yet born,
Paul stood—
tentmaker’s hands still smelling
of leather and labor,
thread pulled tight through hide
as through the conscience of men.
Some had folded their arms to the sun,
waiting for trumpets,
for clouds to blossom with fire,
for the Lord to descend
before supper.
But the ovens cooled.
The nets lay slack by the shore.
Bread thinned on the tables
of those who still rose
with morning’s ache.
And Paul wrote—
Not with cruelty,
not with a clenched fist,
but with the stern mercy
of one who knows
how hunger humbles a man.
“If one will not work,
neither shall he eat.”
Not for the broken hand,
not for the widow’s trembling bowl,
not for the child whose ribs
count the days—
but for the idle heart
that borrows breath
and gives no song in return.
For faith is no hammock.
Hope is no excuse
to sleep through the harvest.
He stitched the tents.
He bore the scars.
He preached with calloused palms—
that waiting for heaven
does not excuse
neglecting the earth.
And somewhere between
the needle and the Word,
between hunger and grace,
Paul taught them
that love
is the greatest of works.
Genuine Apologia Bequeathed...
Kickstarting Expungement Father Incurred
Within a sea futility aye wallow
riptides exemplifies sorrows
drowning me into undertow
bitter aftertaste hogties ability
to make headway, and shuck off tow
warring internal strife at this stage
of my life mein kampf,
a failed one man show
so many instances, I didst wade
into abortive oarless row
well nigh impossible to affect
equitable fair family status quo,
nonetheless an opportunity to wax po'
whet tick, sans saturated
noggin of this primate
doth horrendously overflow
wing with yesterday's
defiant spite gives no
mercy now as looming grim reaper
ready to scythe,
and unforgivingly mow
soul of this sole sun,
doth somberly bell low
mine hounded conscience
comeuppance in the know
suctioning all oxygen vacuums
the being of this generic joe
king pawn's ability
to breathe with every inflow
and exhalation of air analogous
to tsunami of sentiments
blindsiding every hello
jaggedly relentlessly shearing,
punishing, and cleaving
nocturnally visible dayglow
mine conscience rip
snorting to and fro
upon psyches of
parents, siblings emo
ting tender loving
care, and in exchange
courtesy of this (doughless) bro
two sisters, (who twisted
with frustration), decades ago
grown daughters and self!