Long Convinces Poems
Long Convinces Poems. Below are the most popular long Convinces by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Convinces poems by poem length and keyword.
The muscle of the gazelle
formed around the lions tooth.
The fangs of the snake
reflected in the eyes of the newt
The awareness of the stag
grew as far as the hunters perch stood
The heart of the moth
does not believe its ash
will dampen the flame
that towards it’s drew;
Love comes with a duty of grief
Grief accompanies truths we wish not to be
Truth becomes accepted, begetting a future we couldn’t see.
The future sires today’s
when unreliability is allowed to breathe.
Breath finds respiratory arrests
under a consuming authority.
Authority imbibed by the tempting
pollutes its purity.
Purity survives
as long as its dream
carries through its sleep
Sleep decays and restores
as if time is both predator and prey;
primordial polarities.
Time is born of perceptions
that stalk forms of order to feed.
Chaos remains as a formation of order,
albeit one without,
creating laws out of order,
faulted by interruptions
we recognize as every understanding
we wish to achieve.
Persistence of staring down the abyss
creates the fragility we need.
Necessity may be assumed
as solipsistic greed
But regardless of it all,
Worth finds payment
When your love
Convinces you
To take on the duty of Grief.
Wouldn’t it be odd to skip that fare,
As if
There was
Nothing for it to mean?
You say : the cacophony of life’s journey you can’t bear,
travelling with the irate strangers on the crowded path.
I say : listen, you’ll surely hear someone say from within,
you’re a part of humanity, it’s time to take on the world.
You say : to climb steep hill of achievement you toil hard,
you’d quit dejected for people pull you down all the time.
I say : try to remember from the wise people you’ve heard,
do your duties unattached, it’s time to take on the world.
You say : living despondent in the dismal space of prejudice,
your mind buries happiness in the debris of meanness grime.
I say : listen, you’ll hear the sublime soul from within assert,
you live once, embrace bliss, for it’s time to take on the times.
You say : feeling the pangs of pained living in the broken heart,
you perceive the principles of purposeful life crumbling down.
I say : try to remember the sun sets to rise again with splendor,
live in present, rise from dust, for it’s time to take on the times.
The insight convinces me to take the world and the times on,
they’d change for the better, and hold lone hands with hope.
Don’t freeze the wave of life, let it flow to the shore of ecstasy,
don’t stop the music of rhapsody once it begins with God’s grace.
October 3, 2021
Contest : Difference In Opinion
Sponsor : Shreya LN
An artist’s mind is a strange thing,
whether they write or sing or paint,
it convinces such people that everything
they set their talents to will be great.
We all know most of it will not,
it’ll fall short and then fade away,
but those one or two moments of the sublime…
we all live for those rarest of days.
It’s probably best that we do this
cause our minds are running at all hours,
with nothing to create we would turn loose
on the world our imaginative powers.
This may not seem like a great danger,
we rarely look all that threatening,
but I remember a frustrated Austrian painter
whose fertile mind did unspeakable things...
And some folk will call us arrogant
for thinking the world needs our craft.
They’re right, we are a pretentious bunch,
but there’s much more to it than that.
They say being lawyers or engineers
would bring more money, and less heart-ache,
that’s true enough, but they fail to realize:
if we did not create, we would break.
You see every moment, the ideas, they grow,
pressing harder deep within our minds,
like a tumor, taking up more and more,
until another thought is quite hard to find.
The ideas run circuits, again and again,
pressing forwards like a runaway train.
The only was to ever really be free of it
is to rip that idea from your brain.
And even then it’s a fleeting reprieve,
a few days, maybe a week or two,
then something new emerges, a little idea
that grows quickly, until it consumes…
In truth the artist has little choice,
forever doomed by their imaginations,
we’re all mad men in permanent decline,
the only treatment that works? Creation.
Flamboyant words in hues of an imagination
Bold and vibrant, trembling
With expressions of enthusiasm, elation
Stimulating the mind, the heart, the soul
With joy, hope, love so alive
It feels like the center of His sacrifice,
Healing the darkness, covering up the past
Forgiving the sins that formed walls
Between the Creator and His created souls
Eager words in breathless kisses
Penetrating the feelings, making a way
Through the edges of each silhouette,
Shadows erasing the mystery –
Bleeding through the dreams, the belief
With assurance that there is hope,
There is belief – there is grace
That silences even the worst felonies,
The lapses in judgement,
The lustful indulgences – tombs
Wounds that blacken each twilight
With firefly urgency, sparkling
Like the remembrance – the directions
Written in His book, the word He breathed
From His spirit, His gift to those who
Believe, those who need – directions
Guidelines for the times when struggles
Seem like living proof that He didn’t mean
You would never glimpse pain or expect
The fears to remain, despite the prayer
Prayed, the inspiration – the praise
The sweetest love letter – He sends
Scriptures revealing His gifts to His people,
His promises, His assistance –
The sweetest love letter… never fail to remember
His spirit is real and it is disclosed…
In the pages of His scriptures, the pages
That always remember – He is a writer we should
Give all our attention, all our devotion –
All our love and faith, everything that makes us…
Children of the One who convinces…
Every spirit to listen when He speaks His wisdom!
In a world bejeweled
with tainted trinkets,
and feigned flowers,
we follow the
wailing waves below
whirling wind,
like secluded silhouettes,
stranded on the
cusp of chaos,
unable to find the sparkling
streak of hyacinth hope-
between dusk and dawn.
Perhaps there is a
reason why I stopped
rewriting runes with
cashmere conclusions,
as I’ve long been
dreaming of dahlias,
on weathered willows,
oblivious to the
dancing rays
of rising sun swiftly
cascading like
caramel confetti.
I am like the
sleepless ocean,
letting the
fleeting phases
of bewitching moon
lure floating sapphires;
pushing and pulling
my insomniac tides
with turquoise triggers,
as the inner-child
continues to sail
through tumultuous seas,
healing from
the trauma I’ve been fed,
concocted with
raspberry ruins,
from silver spoons,
on dulcet trays.
I’ve tasted poison
in the fruitiest of cocktails,
although the flavors
of life remain
a mystery within a fickle
game of chess,
incomplete
and unattainable.
I search for a sanctuary
where peace lilies sprout,
beneath the eclipsed horizon,
blindfolding my third eye,
as I waltz through astral
spheres to reach
an elysian dimension.
Amidst unanswered questions
hanging like
unsolvable equations,
for all that I’ve believed
was but a myth concealed
in illusory amulets,
bruising my inner psyche,
preventing me
from seeing beyond.
Yet the morning sky
convinces me to
reconsider and realign,
as the whimsical breeze
whispers in a soft cadence:
the Universe is infinite,
so am I.
This pink granite
heart is as vast as
the spring-hills with
deepest of falls,
prevailing traces of
my silenced voice.
And when mauve clouds
kissed my frail fingers,
I remembered how stars
do not need our touch,
to unravel fate laced in
citrine dust,
Like how I breathe-
lavender love,
within me,
leaving no blood
in my veins but poetry-
flowing as the poem
of pearlescent tomorrows,
through thin
sangria streams,
in daisy dialects.
So who am I~
but a mere dot on a
faceless canvas,
an echo of your rosy rhymes,
an incomplete verse with
complex metaphors,
weaving woes in
sunflower silence..
Heart tells me to
Ease when I am
Anxious and
Relaxes me
Tactically through soothing rhythms
Triggers hormones
Relatively with the assistance of brain
Understands my plight
Tempts me to dance and
Hushes my emotions..!!
My heart knocks fervently
So that I would open the hutch
and let it flutter free..
Enticing me often to go
for a waltz with my partner,
swaying in his arms hours together;
Pounding thumps compose music and
convinces me to perform salsa & duet .
The erogenous zones creates goosebumps
and tickles the sensual nerves;
Tantalizes belly for a boogie woogie,
And my foot taps the tiles below continually
yearning for a jazz ,
as lyrical swing guides our delicate body
with fluid movements
expelling rhythmic joy.....!!!
Aug 3 ,2020
Note:Heart Truth poetry Contest.(N/A)
Note2: Submitting to Strand Completely New (21) ,
Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest.
He told her come on baby,
let’s pack up and leave this town.
Cause living here just makes me,
feel like I’m gonna drown.
We will find that perfect place,
somewhere we can settle down.
I give you my word baby,
we will quit roaming around.
So they left that little town,
from way back up in the sticks.
Headed to those city lights,
where they’d learn some brand-new tricks.
A couple country bumpkins,
nothing more than simple hicks.
Soon got lost in the shuffle,
and all stirred up in the mix.
But as the days rolled on by,
their hearts soon turned into stone.
Though they still had each other
they might as well been alone.
When those Neon signs go out,
city lights no longer call.
All your pockets are empty,
the love you had starts to stall.
Living in the dark alleys,
where daylight is never known.
The needle, just like a knife,
still can cut you to the bone.
We try to make the right choice,
doing our best to succeed.
It’s hard to find the right path,
around all the lies and greed.
When you’re lost and full of hate,
down is the only place left.
Til despair convinces you,
that the best way out is death.
There's power abounds within our worlds,
that science will deny.
Just silly folks with twisted minds
who rant and rage and lie!
If they can't see, or touch or smell,
they know it isn't there.
Until the day, to their dismay
it's forced on them to share!
Now television, planes and phones,
it's very true to say.
Would surely have been witchcraft
in a not so distant day.
But seeing TV, seeing ghosts,
convinces you they're there.
Or does it... do you choose the things
you let your senses share?
You can't see evil's presence
when it's aimed to do you harm.
You think it rather silly
to return it with a charm?
So live in total arrogance
and die because your ill.
No doctors precious potions
will cure evil with a pill!
Believe in what you care to,
and say I’m off my mind.
But there's many times I thwarted
things of supernatural kind.
I will use the things I need to,
be they physical or 'crap',
But if your directing evil
then I'm going to send it back.
Take a warning from my ramblings,
there's more than meets the eye.
It's not the ground you stand on,
or the covering of the sky.
There's things that some call heaven,
and things that some call hell.
That combine to make our lifetimes
and we all live in their spell.
So if you ever feel a prickle
from the hairs upon your neck.
You will know that evils found you,
......so you'd better run like heck!
Ivor G Davies
Everyone believes in something or other
whether it's religion, God, humanity at heart
there deep down inside in our soul
is a place where life does indeed start
I believe in a loving sovereign God
who sent His son to earth for my salvation
there at Calvary's cross paid my sins
all of this for my eternal redemption
This God created all this world
by the word of His mouth did He
gave me His inerrant holy word
so by it my heart's set free
This God by His holy scriptures
and His holy spirit dwelling within
guides me to walk in His way
all the way to heaven away from sin
I believe because God convinces
that His divine word is fully true
showing that this Lord God loves me
electing myself to be changed anew
This is the reasons why
I believe what I do
not everyone will duly agree
but our hearts all must be true
There is a voice within me, one that whispers doubt and shouts despair in the silence of the night.
It tells me that no matter how hard I try, I will never reach the goals that seem unattainable.
It convinces me that I am unworthy of love, that kindness is a gift I do not deserve.
It weaves stories about how I am destined to be excluded from the warmth of humanity.
The burden of a past that feels written against me weighs heavily on my shoulders every day,
A history stained with inadequacy and rejection, with failures and unfulfilled desires.
I am not smart enough, beautiful enough, or capable enough, the voice tells me endlessly.
I feel trapped in the snare of doubts, like a shadow following but never leading.
I believe that everyone around me harbors a silent disdain, especially other women,
Who seem to embody everything I feel I will never be.
This voice tells me I am a failure, a burden, a shadow of what I should be,
It whispers that I will never have what others seem to possess so easily—belonging and love.
It paints a world where I am an intruder, uninvited and unwanted, a wandering soul.
Sometimes I feel that my existence is a mistake, one that no one would ever mourn.
This voice convinces me that the world would be easier without me, that my departure would bring relief.
Yet despite these harsh thoughts, there is a deep desire to feel whole and loved.
This voice, though loud, is not the only one; beneath its weight lies a gentler truth,
A truth that says I am more than my doubts, more than the fears that surround me.
A desire to find light in the darkness, to discover my own worth and inner strength,
In the silence between heartbeats, I wait to discover that quiet truth that will set me free.