Long Controversies Poems
Long Controversies Poems. Below are the most popular long Controversies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Controversies poems by poem length and keyword.
The A to P of Change Procrastination to Adventure
Answers to be found to questions unknown must arise from new
Bold novel beginnings revisions contemplation reflections and prisms
Can manage to challenge unearth previously untrodden pastures
Diminish confusing conflicts depression mood swings all our schisms
Encompass what portrays and enlightens where we once had no clue
Forego all those doubts uncertainties mistrusts dithering divisions
Grafting and crafting embracing in gratitude those many disasters
Heralds art works in person and paper defies discards rephrases indecisions
In faith change and purposive interrogation we might well eschew
Jumbled controversies intercept trapdoors pitfalls mindless perditions
Kaleidoscopic mixed and matching compositions not necessarily faster
Lie within us so obviously they require manifold repertoires of renditions
Much hard work is needed in our strife but reward looms where credit is due
No more of that past nonsense routine inculcated intrusive narrow opposition
Obfuscations of sanity health revival if we desire to become our own master
Perfused with loving kindness honesty less traditional re-calibrated new mission
02nd August 2016-09-01
written in abcb rhyme for
contest Alphabet Soup
Aiming to organize perfectly with zest
Brain of mine braces up against distraction's pest
Compartmentalization becomes clear mindset as best
Dividing rightfully; yet what along how is a challenging test...
Each has proper place in every way
Failure to do so may, can and will cause delay
Good thinking should function along wisdom ray
Hoisted by trust, prayer-propelled... smiting dismay...
Inevitable occurrences along puzzling maze
Juggling concerns creating issues of mental craze
Keep me confused vis-a-vis compartmentalization blaze...
Lord, help me, I beg to face controversies with simplicity-gaze...
Mental attitude of triumphant glow
Now is my goal against faith* that's shallow
Optimizing divine direction with optimism as I follow
Perspective of wholistic pursuits and wholesome serenity-flow.
*Romans 10:17 So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.
July 28, 2023
2nd place, "This or That, Vol 19-Compartmentalization" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 8/4/2023
Series of my controversies
Are signs of our differences,
Palaver in my spirit,
Making me feel like a culprit,
The ritual by my fingers,
Are what i call impending dangers,
It creates controversies
It supplied miseries.
Physically and mentally,
Spiritually and socially
It sends my soul to penury,
A strange and unusual penury.
Mine is the groaning soul,
Mine is the unwanted zeal,
An urge that makes me err,
An urge the morals fear.
Yours is like a bright candle light
For your heart is without plight,
And your fingers, innocent.
If my heart will gather momento
And control the members that carry out
The wishes of my urge.
Then i shall become like you
And my soul will groan no more.....
=============================
Another song for all addicts.
He talks and acts accordingly
On his beliefs and visions
He spans through successes
Failures and break-ups
He embarks on countless trips
To the realm of ideas
And crystallizes them
To profit the system
He tends.
He has direct-dial button
To the souls and aspirations
Of his followers
He is always running
Since he knows
Time is ticking and fleeting...
He constantly cites
The latest need for the system
And when running floods of ideas
Begin to level off
He is there to put the best spin
On the buttons.
The running floods of ideas
Never tire rather fires him
Into churning out projects
With crystal streams of resounding successes.
Though feuds and controversies may rise
He remains undaunted in
Actualising his vision and ideas.
A true visionary is centuries ahead of his time...
And indeed a “COLOSSUS”
Controversies rage on
Controversies of the non-controversial
Amongst toad-eyed rumours –
But to UN
We call with pleading faces
Like some worshippers
Praying unto sleeping gods
Yes, we plead with WHO
Besides Africa’s new white houses
White-washed upon her black soil
That once hosted a proud history
Of sturdy sons
With the wrester’s strength
Among their robust women
To whose backs were strapped
Children born for the whole clan –
Where is the radiance
Of the kings & queens?
Of the pages & praise-singers?
Of guilds of men in gold & silver & bronze?
We call unto UN
Behind these Third Globe Washington BC huts
Behind these half-baked physician’s stores
Where health is titrated out of men
By some hungry medicine men
Wrongly portfolioed in our healthlines –
We call unto WHO
To save the clan from their rumours
Preserved from wrong diagnoses
O, send us the true physician
Of corn & beef
To cure those kwashiorkored bodies
Bitten by the serpent of hunger
Diagnosed by the rumour mongers
Who call it AIDS!
Ha-ha-ha! AIDS?
Form:
We must love our own
First
We must fight for our own
First
We must love and fight for the victims
Because they’re part of our teams
We simply cannot let them suffer
Anymore
We must respect their pride and candor
Evermore
Under the bridge where they seek sanity
Freedom, decency, hope and better opportunities
Over the dangerous waves where they seek liberty
Men, women and children face death and controversies
All God’s children merit living in peace
All God’s children are created equal
It is the same red blood seeking justice
We all have one body, one heart and one soul
We must stand for the rights of everybody
Regardless of the color that we all see
The Sea is tired of drowning so many
The sharks are sick of devouring so many
The bombs no longer want to kill so many
The bullets are tired of piercing so many
And the flowers no longer want to be part
Of so many funerals
And it’s shameful that so many heads have no heart
Oh! Brave soldiers and poor generals
We must not love our own
Last
We must not fight for our own
Last.
P.S. Peace and Love.
Copyright © February 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Flowers of Midnight
I am not a morning glory
I am damsel of the midnight
When misery struck my family,
wrath of God, classy people cite
To appease the Almighty,
pubescent girl at home be left...
as a "Devadasi" which meant
literally, " Servant of the Deity"
This immoral exploitation
veiled under wraps of religion
Ignorant, illiterate with superstition
my family lets me into this with celebration
A ritual follows during my initiation
into this system of south Indian society
and 'am declared deity's wife...
My new home the temple premise
All my life dreams in air collapse
At this point, am made a midnight flower
to the classy patrons and priests
My duty is to dance and sing
and cater to their insatiable carnal needs
I am craved for at nights
and like trash rejected as dawn heralds
for I am their queen of the nights
I am a withered midnight flower
My fragrance lingers only at night
My voice subdued beneath my
footsteps as I dance to their dirty desires
My soul weeps in deep hiding suppressed
while outside emanate my forced joyful songs!
© Anulaxmi Nayak, 2015
P.S: Devadasi system refers to immoral exploitation of girls who were dragged into prostitution in the name of religion which was deeply rooted in south-Indian states. Awareness and social reforms has removed this from society this centuries old deeply etched socio-religious malefic practice.My attempt just to throw light on this system and not to deal with several details and controversies associated with this.
The Tramp Persona
Who was this boy, a pauper born?
Existing in despair and continual forlorn
Scandalized, accused of communist sympathies
Encompassing both adulation, and social controversies
Charlie Chaplin how can I take you seriously?
Chucklesome slapstick injecting tragedy
Awkward, little mime tugging at the heartstrings
A cathodic empathy he brings
of all those around him, a famous clown
A wiggled walk, a cane, a grin, a frown
The Great Dictator, as plain as black and white
In the struggles against misfortune, the tramp persona typified
A virtuoso kid he found at a hall by chance
A four-year-old child, he saw him dance
A gift he gave to us, a sharing alliance
The Tramp who mastered the power of silence
I was hardly aware of a crisis because we lived in a continual crisis; and, being a boy, I dismissed our troubles with gracious forgetfulness. —Charlie Chaplin, on his childhood
Marylin Monroe “She was a tramp.”
Without her contracts at 20th Century Fox and Columbia (which had both been dropped) who were hungry for denial and headlines. Instead, Marilyn said this:
“I was broke and needed the money.
Why deny it? Tom Kelly’s racy nudes of me
You can get one [a calendar] anyplace.
Besides, I’m not ashamed of it, I’ve done nothing wrong
I was a week behind on the rent and it’s here where I belong
I’d never have done it if I’d known things would happen so fast in Hollywood for me.”
Her candor and honesty charmed everybody
You have this sense of having met a wounded little canary not a peacock. Only when you pick it up in your hand to comfort it … beneath the wounds, vulnerability, and innocence, you find raw strength, and a big heart—I Am Anaya
Lady And The Tramp
A warm and loving story
For dog lovers, in the sense of humor
A carefully nurtured cocker spaniel, Lady
Born in New York City a Baby boomer
Natural beauty overwhelming, a pedigree no vamp
And a rakish, debonair, freedom-loving wanderer
of a dog who wares no man's collar, Tramp
Would all thoughts and ideals
have been different, if I had been born
in another time, not in one as sophisticated as ours?
I probably wouldn't have been torn,
but greeted by love, and not have known scorn...
not running and hiding, or seeking maternal protection.
Controversies and dilemmas, offering doubt but little hope,
wouldn't have entered this mind and made it grieve,
how beautiful would have been the scenery of a serene living
without the obstacles that disrupted my enthusiasm in earlier days;
and all those weren't the irresistible forces drawing me to elusive happiness,
or that dream I tried to grapple, to aggrandize my scope.
If I had been born in another time,
I would have been among amiable companions,
not the ones who judge me by worth and looks,
and I wouldn't wear this amulet to guard off evil eyes,
even superstition would begone from me
with my astronomical sign that has deluded me.
Disenchant me stars, and let me pray to a real God,
a God I won't dishonor with my egotism, sin and misery...
hoping that no discontent will dishearten me somehow,
while watching the wretchedness of old days dissipate along
with the wrongful desires of the flesh that enslaved me;
how will grace return into me...shouldn't I be entirely holy?
What an adoration it is
To receive a gift
Of victory
Of an entity only i created
In an old misery
Believing
That only I can bring
What i seek
And achieve in controversies
Where at times i felt weak
Quit
Could I
I asked
But then it was only until then I open my eyes to only realize
The lies made needed to succeed in strives
Was only a controversy that I
Let in
Maturing from the immaturity
No more
This energy in me that's arose
To soar
In what i look for
A door
Of which I'm grateful to explore
The new beginnings i hoped for
Acceptance of not what i am
But of what I can
Motivation and guidance
To guide
In what's right
Breathe in my own prosperity and defeat
Not looking back at what was
No love
No trust
Only lust unwanted in the one's i loved
But upon it all
I stand tall
Strong and ready to take on
What I have not yet saw
In person
Cuz my heart knows where i belong
At ease
In peace
Actions that only i demand and understand
That only i can command in direction i have set plan
Because in this human
Failure has no hand
I have been able to withstand
The curses that followed me in which i ran
And here i am
Blending
In what i thought could never be
An entity of victory