Long Contrives Poems
Long Contrives Poems. Below are the most popular long Contrives by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Contrives poems by poem length and keyword.
Friendships are formed in many different ways,
some are by mutual choice and others by chance.
A sincere comradery will last forever and always
while a few have turned into passionate romance.
Confidants often find themselves telling each other
the darkest secrets and the desires of their lives,
things they don't share with a sister or a brother.
Silly or naughty plans that only a friend contrives.
But what defines a friend? Is it a confidant or a lover?
Someone online with whom we have good chats
and quickly makes us want to know more and discover
what's in their belfry, secretly hoping it's not bats!
Friends offer a shoulder to cry on and an ear attuned
when troubles are too hard for one to bear all alone.
It's important to help a friend who's feeling marooned,
and all they need to do is make a call on the phone.
Through understanding, we acquire a discerning heart,
one that sorrows over sad times and rejoices together
whether friends are always together or far apart.
The best buddy is there in times of stormy weather.
The word 'friend' only has six letters. It's a small word,
but if I call you 'ally' it's because you have my respect.
The friendship bond causes emotions to be stirred.
I'd do anything for a treasured friend when we connect.
August 5, 2022
Friendship Contest
Sponsor: Beata Agustin
Each reel of snowflake leaves behind,
fine traces of her glowing days,
a melancholy cast of mind,
while color sets the world ablaze.
Where flies a gold and opal whirl,
as the moon's lulling course disbands,
and chilly winds of winter swirl,
the hardened heart against it stands.
And yet this night contrives to hold
a promise, tinged with freshening air.
As droplets wing the crisping cold,
a glinting gem lies hidden there.
For with this frosty change, at last,
a love remains in snowdrop's glow,
whose mist will counter tattered past,
to flutter down like feathered snow.
Snow Contest
For Shadow Hamilton
11/20/2015
Between my soul and God there yawns
a chasm stretching out so wide
I cannot see the other side
from where I stand against the dawn.
How great the gulf of human pride,
of degradation, sin and woe;
yet, I the true depth do not know
nor can I judge it where I hide
among the trees, all covered o'er
with self-made robes my mind contrives
of dubious good deeds and lies,
just withered fig leaves, nothing more.
My soul cries out in agony,
"can no one turn the dreadful tide?"
And Christ, the one I have defied,
stoops down to taste my misery.
My heart is wrung in Sorrow's grip;
an awful pounding fills the air,
and, like a dog in mad despair
with glassy eyes and foaming lip,
I stare in holy terror now
as upward, out of that dark deep,
a cross takes form. From steep to steep,
it spans the gulf to where I bow.
There, in my night, I dimly see
the Son of God slain, crucified:
how can two arms stretch out so wide
in love to bridge infinity?
© 1987, Faye Lanham Gibson
I've struck a snag after a long develops steps.
To a recent attitude over alliance depth,
I investigate this frightening atmosphere.
On top, winning expresses me insecure.
Because of my hearty assurance, I'm here today.
Divine grace has favored us for countless days.
I'm ailing back running with my unique mindset.
God, the Divine, contrives a chart for us, don't fret.
I can't travel to this area alone or by potent force.
It's all mercury; there's subtly nothing else sparse.
I'm defenseless to impact or succumb to anybody.
Every day, there is solely a requisite mission boldly.
But I'm evenly a pebble and embody no braw feeling.
Conception utterly lingers the power of God's crafting.
Despite our slightness, shapes harbor an awful misgiving.
In our style-driven culture, inner self-fosters are laying.
The fence of affection grows stouter as unfolding.
The Lord has appropriately arranged everything.
We are more poised than we reckon and form sound.
A wall that set us free, not the myriad way around.
Written: December 19, 2021
As wartime’s ending leaves behind
scarred traces of its furious hunts,
a melancholy cast of mind
endures this pang with hope ablaze.
Where flies the gold and russet morn,
as autumn’s languid trail departs
and cruel frost of winter grips,
when hardened heart against it stands.
And yet this fall contrives to hold
a promise tinged by coming home;
that onward creeps this riddled war
yet kindled gut lies spritely blazed.
For with this season's chime, at last,
one dream remains in dwelling’s glow
whose light will soothe his brittle wounds,
till country bound, a torment, hushed.
A Briand Strand Contest : Premiere 135
Submitted 3/21/2018
Consciouness finds me and jerks me awake.
In a dusky dank cell closed in and opaque.
No circulation, my hands were bound!
My legs were tied, I couldn't move around!
My pulse takes on unbearable beat.
My mind is playing tricks, and then evilly repeats!
Swish, swish, came a hideous sound.
Closer and closer it creeps rendering me spellbound.
My skin crawls in the sweltering torridity.
The murky cell is horribly sooty.
Swish, swish; it slowly descends.
Eyes entranced, on a swinging pendulum.
Swish, swish it cuts off my shrill..
Whoosh, whoosh it contrives its kill.
The horrific night bargins with death.
I woke up startled and couldn't take a breath.
Finally, taking in my familiar surroundings.
I ponder on what, I was just dreaming.
note: This poem inspired me from Poes. Pit and the pendulum
Love’s Goodbye
Those who ask
no questions
offer the greatest
comfort
Those who speak
inscriptive
tell the biggest
lies
Those who pledge
no fealty
to themselves
dishonor
Those who bear
no greetings
doomed to love’s
— goodbye
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
Misfortune Contrives
It’s in fashion
to wear
your heart
on your sleeve
A French poet
alarmed
that love may
deceive
Bleeding a wound
that
misfortune
contrives
Alone
in deception
your love
— circumcised
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
Epiphany Of Time
Once
you wrap
all existence
into this moment
You will
understand the
difference between life
— and its living
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
Throughout eons she contrives
to casting seeds and see what thrives
as she has done for countless lives.
Experimental.
Traveling through time and space
on cresting waves of light and grace
to be here in this time and place
of great potential.
By the trauma of rebirth,
and crashing on this spinning earth
to walk a path of woe and mirth.
Experiential.
To the beat of her own drum;
to laugh, and love, and overcome;
to act in ways both wise and dumb,
and unprovincial.
Tending to transplanted souls,
traversing over burning coals,
to wet her feet on earthly shoals.
Developmental.
Until her own angelic claque
blasts their trumpets ‘til they crack,
to guide her home; to call her back,
as transcendental.
waiting to retreat
enduring
then turning courage
in a
moment
of change
to bravery
no longer deceived
truth
replaces remorse
rooted
& blessed
by reason
riding the tide
across
the evening
into night
grief prevented
innocence deserted
the positive
rejoices
&bids farewell
estranged&
changed
survives
the revolt
uneasy sleeps
the lonely
loud
the sounds
of feelings
of alarm
in
default of loving
care
in the pursuit
of
pleasure
in the mirror
notice&belief
&discipline
quiet
elements
with gestures
of praise
to admire&observe
in wonder
designed to shield
&display
authority
in the temporal
&imbibe
the possible
secrete
the lovely
float
the concrete
into the valley
of self
to escape the threat
which beckons
in the
voice of passion
to invoke
lapsed glory
&its reward
dogma speaks aloud
concern
listens
contrives
to open
the seige ahead
with
a
tale
of joy
William Charles Lunalilo
First King, chose by the people
Grandnephew of the Great King, as the people vote, was unanimous
Next year, King Kamehameha the Sixth died of tuberculosis
Hawaiian marriages are coconuts
Apple's eye, orchard nigh--girls uppercuts
Bees concede and confess
Honey is not the best
Lunalilo stings in-laws -- blood and guts.
Pacific divides paradise from lies, pulpit denies, missionary connives, fleece, devise hoax, and shanghais,
The native's supplies for whalers, all dives. At times, pearls for wider eyes, command contrives to control their lives.
Kings II & III foresaw their greed, the lands were a need to wed and achieve access was their way to succeed,
Lunalilo was short-lived, the people he decreed, as past kings agreed, a land trust deed, 'ere his life concedes.