Long Crossroads Poems
Long Crossroads Poems. Below are the most popular long Crossroads by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crossroads poems by poem length and keyword.
So far, we have come since our birth.
So much favor and many blessings were tendered.
So many prayers of gratitude are yet to be rendered.
So many battles were lost and fortunately, some wars won.
So many evils done; many have been corrected and overcome.
So, Thursday, May 2, '24, we pause, as one nation under God.
It is designated The National Day of Prayer for the USA.
Lord, for the legislators (Lawmakers) of all creeds, we pray.
Lord, for the Judiciaries (Judges) of all persuasions, we pray.
Lord, for the Executives (Law enforcement) in every task, we pray.
Lord, for all the local and federal leaders of our country, we pray.
Lord, for the current President and the one that is to follow, we pray.
Lord, for the troubling political entanglements we presently face, we pray.
Lord, I confess my sins and those of my nation and ask for your forgiveness.
Lord, we appear to be at a pivotal crossroads and need your direction.
Lord, our sins have dimmed our eyes, and led us down wrong paths,
rendering us too weak to discern the many dangers that wait ahead.
Lord, on behalf of my great nation, I call upon you to restore and help
us find our way back to the source of our blessings, the essence of our lives.
Lord, for these things and so many more, I pray, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
043024PS
Puzzling, miraculous and random
Are the ways of life
Thinking, probing and planning
Warding chance and incident
Avoiding event and inadvertence
Moving with care and caution
One tries to steer through the trail
But he reaches the crossroads
Pauses to know the right path
To reach the destination of his choice
But all remain mute
The crossroads do not speak
He is all alone, and lost
Fortuity takes over and he moves
Sandwiched between right and wrong
The road leads to a blind end
Devoid of options he Stays there
Days, months and years pass
Collecting his cool and strength
He starts the journey again
With gusto and delight
Flushing out his solitude and seclusion
Finds a multitude of souls
All haphazard, ignorant and confused
Unable to guide his bruised past
Simmering inside
He continues with his quest
Encounters a wise childhood friend
Opens his heart to the sharp dude
But what comes out of him is:
‘Life is like that, dance with destiny’
And the void continues
Wave a magic wand and poof!
Try to put the genie back in the bottle
Oops, too late…now everyone’s laughing
More like heads shaking in disbelief
Wear the rough edges of your plan down
With the file still buried in that 34-ingredient cake
A humorous situation, no, a real mess
At the crossroads…freedom & whim
You tore apart the construct limb from limb
Disaster cleanup desperately needed
If we manage to Lego-build back to glory
Too serious of a spoof though
Walking around aloof
Eyes closed on the cloud of a sucker’s wish
Riddled with inaction
No cloud but a chasm below
Anti self-interest fools none the wiser
A new year,
a fresh start, a good attitude,
Take it easy,
keep an eye on your altitude.
A brighter healthier,
outlook on life,
A weight has been lifted,
it left with my wife.
It's simple,
only have to fend for myself,
Only me;
no sign of no one else.
I have pep to my step,
a little hip to my hop,
No more funky people,
only the ones over the top.
Become a better listener,
be a little kinder,
If I slip;
I will use last year as a reminder.
No good to dwell on it;
leave it in the past.
Make peace with all,
today could be your last.
We are warriors;
we have come this far.
Sixty around the corner,
yet here you are.
Lost blood, tears
and have a few scars,
Lucky to be free,
could be behind bars.
So many lessons,
so much more to learn,
At the crossroads;
which way do you turn?
I remind myself;
I could be in worse shape,
I have had close calls,
and a narrow escape
I never,
thought about old age.
I guess,
I should have read that page.
Who knows what,
tomorrow might bring?
A little knowledge
can be a dangerous thing….
Turbo1904
In the void of my transitional mind,
the aimless scatter-shots of snapshot in kind
finding itheir way.through pokes in the brine.
Saran wrap bindings of biased memories, invent orys,
and tupper-ware leftovers tidings of dreams, kept palatable for the aroaming beasts.
I find the manipulations stirring like mercurial-gravy,
sardonical Last Suppers of my humanity at
the toppings station, insulting.
Where's the variety, where's the if there
is a will there's a way?
Where's the frikkin beef?
I heard that commercial say- (I agree,
where's our defense against the dark arts Teacher
or our non f'd with bandwith to have our say?
;My Atriuk-Consultants,
disappearing, through a buffet line
of suitors for my gun hand-as treason's malignant mercenary gland.
Stranger in a strange clan.
Now every thought is like a remembrance, a
severance to pay for it all.The tying to-me
in Gordian crossroads mocked silverly
by multi directional unabaiting winds
blowing adversarily.
Each pointing "this way you fail !"
"Every which way a noose !"
"This way you fall !"
Of on the loose this way dungeon echoes
a calling as dark corridor Shades
with no true form to call.
The past haunts, the future calls,
lost in the chaos urn, as time falls-
in diminished return,
for the base is nearly full to lay
as a squandored mound of time.
Like shooting stars across the sky,
my dreams flicker, then fade and die?
Searching for purpose, to see what sticks.
I fire all of my rounds at once
In this endless maze of day and night I pace
these walls, like those Demonic Shades,
who chant "hey Jude" and perform "Jude Law"
in Shakespearean play, "There's something about Mary...
whomever target to sway. Come wicked this way s.
But in the darkness, I find a kin-spark
guide in my self defense,
of cheerlead everence in reference to
hope belonging to everyone the same.
A torch in the deepening dark
to saber heroicly for my good name.
Iwill rise from the sullen ashes,
strong and brilliantly bright, aiimless no more,
faith in my sights.
Pull !
Let the scatter shot fall where it may,
I'll carve my path, come what may.
For in the chaos, I see the arts of strength,
the part I play,
I find beauty's confidence and vision
in the facets of my jaded heart,
that maybe I can help the World in some small but
contrite way.
Visible Continually Part II
Change is a natural law that cares
not for homo-sapiens opinion formed
Marching to the beat of it’s own drum;
with moon dances through storms.
How little we realize
what means most
Find we get caught up;
then try to coast
Through the turbulence
that we emulate
Like the symphony
conductor escalates
In rhapsody of a musical
scale in perfect time
Harmonizing at every
sharp and flat in rhyme.
Aye ~ Eat, drink, and be Merry--
For tomorrow we die!
Our time here is minute compared
To the planet and sky,
And the mountains, the trees,
the ocean deep and blue
A nano-second is all we receive
and we have no clue
To…
What, or why, or
even think of when.
We are, we were
or what is meant
By the cycles of the
universe in motion
That spins on the
extreme of all emotion.
The crossroads are visible
again on my long journey
No longer are they a mirage
in the desert but continually
Are the reality of our paradigm
that shifts dimensions
Anytime we are not focused on
our own destruction~
May Peace
and Serenity
Finally Prevail
(FICTION, PLEASE. It is easy for me to write in the first person, but nearly all my poems are fiction. Please don't attribute this poem to me. I loved my wife to distraction. For ten years she was sick and I cared for her like a baby. My only regret is that the ambulance which took her away would not allow me to be driven with her. I knew she would die and she would have wanted me near her despite her dementia. We were lovers. I don't know where I got this old poem of mine, but it is still fiction.)
Shifting relentless time,
sand in hourglass trickles slowly
towards its final hour.
Pretending I care not,
I bask in the sun,
enjoy mellow breezes,
I wait; the end will come.
The sky is clear, my mind is not,
in truth I am distraught,
echoes of a distant past
ripple through my futile thoughts
reminding me of your last visit.
Now you stir in your desolate grave.
My listless life is at a crossroads.
I hover in a vicious vacuum,
remember all the senseless shame,
slide after seamy slide recalled,
all your wants and needs
which I demonically and cruelly denied
despite the reparable ways,
you made my fantasies would not come true.
Now it is too late.
Frustrations tear my sinful soul,
I lie bound in a wicked web,
I'll drink my teacup of remorse
tomorrow is another curious chance:
I pray for spiritual rebirth.
I've been driving for decades.
A yellow Buick, deluxe convertible circa '51',
the model with the three-speed manual transmission -
8 cylinder.
A deserted desert diner. The door creaks.
I'm a doppelganger of myself.
Tomatoes fry on a skillet.
I throw my Panama,
feed bread into a counter toaster.
A woman appears, drying her hands.
You've found me in my old age -
how impolite of you,
she says between disapproving lips.
She is indeed old, her face lined and lovely.
Is that your Buick?
Before I can answer, she asks:
Is that your hat on a rack at the back?
Before I can answer, she asks:
is this a crossroads movie?
I think it's a date,
Only this time you're the pitiful figure, she interjects,
spooning tomatoes onto a plate.
I remember how badly I treated her,
making my excuses, leaving early in the evening.
This is it! I exclaim.
Our second chance.
A withering look.
In my story, you die young on the highway,
in a ball of fire.
The horn on the Buick honks.
Someone came with me.
I imagine his black charred hand
on the big white steering wheel.
Green tomatoes sizzle.
Here, I emerge endlessly in the sands of time
as living day does not yet fade, nor stray dark
I find myself apart,
separated from subdued senses
selflessly soaking up what surrounds me.
Like the tamed breeze I feel conceived
of what passed my feet just a slight breath ago,
like slow melting snow at the foots of hills
while the cricket’s hum spills as deep blue fills the air
I am more aware of what moves and moves me.
Streetlamps now aglow, perched above shrubs grown
as light alone turns my skin shimmering gold
like stories around fire told, dancing the bold night
dark shadows mould below my hovered hands
and shape my write of path across these sands.
Just an impression imprinted as it is erased,
changed forever are these passing days breathed
and intrigue releases the new breath that breathes me.
The swaying tops of trees have caught my eye
while night’s tears of the sky cries stars still
these glittered shapes fill where clouds hung high
I feel the lie that lives away from this grace
drawn closer to this infinite, intense space.
Even as I smoke my burning cigarette,
admire the grey haze breathed away
not a day goes by that I don’t question your all,
where I don’t fall through the taunt layers of time
like an old copper dime spun heads or tails
a choice, at the crossroads of trails walked blind
here, I find my life finding me...
just a moment I lived in this moment...
a mind freed.
Children get seized at the border;
parents are led away in cuffs.
Under Presidential order
ICE morphed into a gang of toughs.
The United States has no shame
they sold their soul to the devil.
Asylum seekers weren't to blame
for Trump sinking to this level.
Kids are a political tool,
kidnapped from fleeing families.
Enforced by Republican rule,
laws mandate these calamities.
Nazis and fascists rally round
Trump, waving confederate flags.
Hate's propaganda is unbound,
their blood chants recruiting scumbags.
A bigot's voted in power,
a nationalist is in charge.
A man defined by Trump-tower
is revered by cultists at large.
Democracy's reached a crossroads,
a lunatic has won the race.
And holding the nuclear codes
he incites his ass-kissing base.