Long Crosses Poems
Long Crosses Poems. Below are the most popular long Crosses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crosses poems by poem length and keyword.
Moans of hers pierce once again the silent night.
Soars on her body put to shame stars alight.
She joins her hands and mumbles, still with faith!
What is inside this body frail, marred; almost a wraith?
What kept her alive over youth wasted in pain,
While hope in these dark gruesome streets, a vain?
Pleasure is abundant for all the lusting sick!
But what uncommon in her yearnings to pick;
Security or self esteem, respect or tenderness…
Another night with another; her plight endless.
Surprisingly this night, things decide to be different;
He talks to her;a shadow in a corner, she listens reverent,
Till the moon fades and dawn breaks through
Haggard curtains of her room shabby, all construe
She is but a helpless who is to live ever a wimp.
By the sunset however, the yellow teeth pimp
With disdain, opens her door and at her he jeers;
A chauffeur driven car, with him, in the yard steers.
Bought she was at the price placed, to forever
Live in her old rich man's home who wants nothing but ever
To be listened to and looked after in all honesty.
She has it all what she wished for; a change of destiny.
She crosses her fingers and looks at the sky,
“Who says God does not listen to our soul’s cry!”
18/07/16
Contest: Denouement
A smile
By Michelle Morris
29/12/2022
A smile is the safest curve
It can be taken at any speed
Given freely at any time
For people are always in need
It makes everyone beautiful
It communicates beyond all words known
It crosses any cultural barrier
And always makes you feel at home
A welcoming message of light
Of love and human sweetness
A smile is the best greeting
For anyone to receive
So, give this gift today
Keep giving it to everyone
You'll be amazed at how you'll find
That you'll feel it in your heart
A smile is always contagious
It's that gift that keeps on giving
If everyone gave smiles to all
The world would know love and healing
© Michelle Morris, 2022
In eighteen seventy nine; twenty second of January
Was the day of a great battle and for the Zulus victory
At Isandlwana the Zulu army showed no fear
Against British guns, armed with shield and spear.
Twelve thousand warriors from the Zulu nation
Wiped out the British, a total annihilation
With such a large force the camp was soon overun
With hand to hand combat, under African sun.
Nearly a thousand British soldiers died that day
A few played dead and managed to get away
Some headed for Rorkes Drift never looking back
Warning the soldiers there of an impending attack.
Not far from the battle stood the mission station
By the Buffalo river a tranquil location
Five thousand warriors marched on Rorkes Drift
A hundred and thirty nine stood ready to resist.
Dispite wave after wave the British repelled their attack
With rifle and bayonet; they pushed the Zulus back
The Zulus regrouped and moved in for the kill
An officer gave the command to fire at will .
The battlefield was covered with the bodies of the slain
With spears, shields and blood all over the terrain
It wasn't until the morning of the following day
That the Zulus retreated and went on their way.
Eleven Victoria crosses were won at Rorkes drift
For courage and bravery; shown in that conflict
Five hundred Zulu warriors paid the ultimate cost
Whilst seventeen British soldiers in battle were lost.
Against overwhelming odds the British held the line
And Rorkes Drift today is a museum and a shrine
Tour guides at the site will tell you the story
Of those brave British soldiers and their hour of glory.
(The Victoria Cross or VC is the highest and most prestigious award given
to members of the British armed forces for valour in the face of the enemy.)
It’s the fourth - fireworks; the fizzle of stars.
The colorful display of power of the people —
waving of the red, white and blue; freedom
rings, slowly, building to a crescendo
to include all the melting pot called the USA.
Resilience and fortitude; weathered the wilderness
where an unlearned cabin-patch man snatches
every book his hands can capture, then captures
our hearts, tall, even taller with his top hat —
a silk black band added after his beloved son
Willie dies. Lincoln, a man who united us
in the favor of freedom, freedom that frees the pandemic
of slavery, the dark history of whips and chains. And
furthermore we ask, “Why oh why…”
when headway is made do men continue to suffer
and hang from trees, crosses burned.
And all good men suffer with them, the agony of evil —
it was to be stamped out, and the white hoods snatched
off crazytown. If one truly believes in God, then he loves,
not hates, his fellowman and each wants the best for him —
of education, family, boundless freedom and desires
to hold hands — building a chain, not of rust, but of
trust. And we sing out, “God bless America.”
I visited the WWII museum in New Orleans. A flat map
showed the takeover of the world by forces of evil. Almost
the entire world of East and West lit up — it took my breath
away. What power quenched the burning furnaces, the
torture of peoples? When America stood up, under
the banner of “In God We Trust,” the hellfires, not
easily squelched, the brave, the spirit of the wilderness
gave all, they fought to set the captives free. Men, in general,
are not perfect but the fight for freedom is a worthy cause
and the sanity of a sound mind, a candlelight vigil of veracity
is one to be stoked. Do we continue
to fight each other, dividing, drawing lines, or pull
each other into big sloppy hugs and love’s kisses.
God bless this union called America; God’s mercy
invites us to sing with one voice; freedom’s choice.
It’s the fourth - fireworks; the fizzle of stars.
The colorful display of power of the people —
waving of the red, white and blue; freedom
rings, slowly, building to a crescendo
to include all the melting pot called the USA.
7/4/2020
You arrived the way breath arrives
without announcement,
without asking,
and made yourself essential.
White as the silence between lockdowns,
you crossed the threshold the way light crosses a room:
not invited,
not refused, simply, completely present.
Cloud-pawed, pink-nosed sovereign,
you chose Chaky's lap the way a river chooses its course,
not by permission but by the quiet insistence of gravity,
of going where the warmth was.
You sat in the window's crosshatched light
and watched the world contract to our four walls as if you had foreseen it,
as if a small white planet had already mapped this orbit,
had always known this was the house it would fall into and call home.
Between lockdown and lockdown,
you were the open door.
Meowlu: small declaration,
the way a candle declares itself not by shouting but by burning
I live here.
I matter.
I stayed.
And so,
because of you,
because even the smallest warmth holds something larger in its light,
so did Chaky.
There is so much about our universe I don’t know
So much I don’t know if I’m even capable of knowing
One could even debate that the amount of knowledge I lack
Is infinite
Feeling something weighing
On my consciousness
I read about stars
How they begin
And how they end
Did you know that the bigger the star, the shorter it’s life?
Somehow that made sense to me
When a large star forms
It burns big and bright
It uses its resources more quickly
And runs out just as fast
Then it explodes
Pieces of it are flung into the surrounding space
If a star is big enough
When it dies
It creates a black hole
Apparently
When a black hole is swallowing the things around it
Not even light can avoid falling in
Apparently
A black hole is far heavier
Than the star that created it
Even though this cycle takes place so, so incredibly far away from me
It feels so close and so familiar
And what it really reminds me of
Is the stars I’ve known
Who shined so bright
So bright that they didnt shine for long
I’ve known many stars in my life
Beautiful to know
Heartbreaking to lose
Always a privilege to witness
Seeing just how far their light reaches
Shining their rays on everyone
And everything
That crosses their path
And when they go
The ripples of tragedy can be felt far and wide
Shrapnel striking anyone close by
After the shockwave
The space they once occupied
Becomes a chasm
Sucking in the light of those around them
The gravity of this chasm
Forces you to the ground
And tries to coax you into falling in voluntarily
But there is beauty in these phenomena
For when black holes reach the end of their life
They too, explode
And the matter of everything they consumed
Is scattered
Creating an environment for a new star to form
The matter that composes these stars is recycled into infinity
And their makeup is never truly lost
We witness their light time and time again
The love we pour into them
Is eventually poured back into us
One day, my time here will come to an end
My life force will have been used
And I will have to leave those I love
Just as those I have loved had left before
But knowing that they will never be without me
That I am here amongst the ether
Shining down on them at all times
This fact comforts me
The warmth of the ice cold snow.
Runs down my face and melts in my glow.
The sun is so far away the wind blows a chill.
My heart beats so hot it makes my body shrill.
No more the cold heat of a love lost.
I understand my lonliness now because.
The world is not for good people like me.
I always thought it would be.
No love loss because no love was gained.
Each day I awake to nothing new, Just aways the same.
I am happy to be uninportant nothing gained with fame.
Maybe the elusive butterflies will find me one day.
And make me say to someone special
You really make my spirit soar and sing.
What is this thing everyone calls love.
I know I never felt it in this life even through strife.
They say always love with heart and soul.
I cannot do this kind of lie. It would never be a goal.
So what to be, who to want, what to empower.
What symbols are love? Is it a person, an object a flower?
When you look back do you remember the good.
Or do you resemble the sweet of bitter
I never understand which is the better.
So here at night as I write my thoughts.
I tick the crosses and delete the noughts.
What is good what is bad in me.
I know when I was young I was a good seed.
I dont lie dont cheat or do any bad deed.
So why do I feel angry at the world its always against me.
Then I remember all those worse off than I.
That makes my heart hurt makes me cry.
I want to live forever never die.
But one day I will be free. Or will I have more to grieve.
No one knows the journeys we take once we are gone.
Maybe there are few or just the one.
I hope its better than this and more fun.
Standing straight in columns and ranks,
Heads newly shaved by the barber,
Carrying guns loaded with blanks:
New recruits after Pearl Harbor.
(Our foes wait in their well-defended lair,)
The Generals inspected troops,
(Imagining that they’ll stay safe and warm.)
Standing straight in columns and ranks;
Afterwards they broke into groups,
(All my soldiers ready their arms to bear.)
And marched towards the ships’ gangplanks.
(Bugles sound: Battalions! Companies! Form!)
They boarded ships with guns and tanks
To England, the Atlantic crossed.
(Our siege cannons thunder; smoke mists the air.)
Standing straight in columns and ranks,
(While thinking of barricades each must storm,)
They’d free Europe at any cost.
(Once over the walls, we’ll know what’s in store.)
Allied troops endured dire losses;
(It’s hard to see through misty fogs of war.)
Gaining a foothold up the banks.
Heroes sleep beneath the crosses
Standing straight in columns and ranks.
Columns and Ranks (Quatern 9-25-2014)
Fog of War (Ottava Rima 8-19-2014)
by Mark Halliday / WarriorPoet
Everything crosses my eyes now
Happy, blessed, grateful
Never shall I be regretful
This is how I feel right now
Contented, peace in mind
Youth blossoming inside
Glee glittering through my mouth
Joy starring my life
Before, as I now can recall
15 was a smile, was a song
Years boastfully crawling
One by one me embracing
Age was cool, light and more than welcome
Hiding behind heavy years to come.
20 fervently greeted
A princess in a kingdom hailing
A rose in beauty blooming
A heart in love dancing
Blessings for granted taken unaware
I didn’t then, now I do care.
30 then of age aware I became
Giving life to parts of me
Rejoicing my share of my fate
Beyond my world, life wasn’t the same
Looking from a far
Couldn’t see me, that’s not fine
Dreams, love, beauty unable to outshine.
When 40 I tried to reconcile with the me outside
Youth still struggling inside
Aging in body and mind
Very cold when harsh times crossed my path
Ageless deep in the heart
Speechless when hurt turned into wrath
Youth and age side by side
That’s life, that’s fate, that’s fair.
Now 50, what shall I say?
Youth I have dearly embraced
Age I have so far this honour been granted
Age is a state of heart and mind I dare say
Youth is what I conceive in my heart my way
Both are joy and rage
Youth and age I you adore
Through you I appreciated both of you more and more
God, for this and all the blessings I infinitely do thank you
I blow out my candles today
What shall I say?
Happy 50 year-old Day!
September , 2016
Dance the tortuous path of love with me,
explore nuances of the different roads,
some snake upwards towards lofty thrills
others zigzagging downwards in despair.
Together though we can construe
a life exhilarating and true
as we wander together in wondrous ways
enjoy the beauty of a laudable life,
build a base to face the storms of love,
and like a sparkling mountain stream
face all the currents that cross our life.
Let us find comfort in each other's arms,
when grief crosses our meandering paths,
for the stream winds and turns
and a new page of life pleasantly begins
Let us laugh together at our mistakes
for in laughter, we find strength
and ostracize despair from our love.