Long Dark hours Poems
Long Dark hours Poems. Below are the most popular long Dark hours by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dark hours poems by poem length and keyword.
The golden hour for rising has arrived, and there are violet roses in the sky,
So, I bid hello to you, my robust friend, as the vibrant, cerise birds float by.
The obsidian night, it was very long, and was filled with pleasant dreaming,
Like scenes from the heart of jade forests, where lush nature is screaming.
But the dark hours seem as ages past, since you have risen on the horizon,
Reflecting your glory in the limpid waters, as day slowly begins to brighten.
So nice to see you again, my old friend, peering in the doors and windows,
As beautiful songs from emerald trees, begin their daily, rapid crescendos.
Soon all the world will be colorful and glad, like skyward birthday balloons,
Drifting on backlit skies of somewhere, like the aromas of various blooms!
We've traveled a long way, you and I, and like orioles, we've gone together,
Screaming our joys at midday hour, as warmth blankets the divers weather.
You trail every individual, peach dawn to dusk, and from season to season,
Forever going in and out of our lives, silently, and without apparent reason.
My work as a seasonal park ranger, has kept me in the glitter of your gaze,
As gorgeous wildflowers pursue us all, down the myriad, natural pathways.
Living with my family and my cat, and having a happy life on Pretty Street,
We danced all through deep amber days, terribly soon to become obsolete.
And often enjoyed memorable outings, birthday parties, and get togethers,
Like the euphoria of your floral days, are inclined to following predecessors.
Days at the beach, days at the park, ballgames or fun backyard barbecues,
At the happiest of times, everyplace I look, the first thing that I see is you.
And in olden, golden days, when I played on and on, your warmth was felt,
Like the presence of bittersweet autumn rose, though unseen, lately smelt!
Sweet summer evenings, you gazed redly, to say your melancholy goodbye,
Like the redness that strangely appears, when you're trying hard not to cry.
Crickets in the lilac bush, butterflies in the grass, all smile to greet the sun,
And yellow days are started and soon done, in dreamlike, skyward visions!
Flowers titter in warm, fragrant meadows, and oceans shudder with delight,
People beam at your kind warmth, and robins sing once they see your light!
jeezis …
didn’t you know?
you HAD to know
you were there, too
you felt it -
you said so
before I said a WORD
you had expressed it …
perfectly
you were the river I swam up
slow
deep
pristine
warm and welcoming …
touch, caress, kiss, impel, look …
look …
looking
straight to your soul
no walls
no games
no pretense or curves
your eyes were my HOME
my eyes …
your playground
WE … were the source
that place where identity meshed
chaotic passion
a swirl of ids and motions and
ecstatic desire
so rare …
so incredibly rare
didn’t you know that??
you HAD to
I know you did …
and that’s what is so senseless
that’s what angers me
in the dark hours
the black moments
the moments of loss and
reality and regret
was that sacrifice worth it?
I wish I knew …
oh, how I pray to heaven it WAS
for you …
for what does that say about me …
about my worth …
my value …
my desirability??
the saddest thing
for ME
is that I can NOT answer that question
maybe …
just maybe, you CAN
but it’s the last thing I ever want to
hear leave your lips …
not because it wouldn’t be the truth
not because it would ache to the marrow
not because it might change everything between us …
but because everything you think and
feel and say … is now moot …
your betrayal of those
priceless, precious, extraordinarily
rare and invaluable things
has shown me that you cherish the
tangible over the intangible -
that your priorities are the
things you can hold and see and
put comfort in …
and THAT actuality in itself
proves that all those soul-deep,
profoundly intense conversations we
had about what is truly
important in life -
those things that enrich the
spirit and give love it’s meaning and
immortality -
were just so much effluvium …
thistles on the winds of passing
that you puffed away
with one weak, careless breath
and despite all the
miraculous connections we once had -
the joy and passion and
heart-melding experiences -
those priorities haven’t made ME worthless
(though I spent years believing so)
they’ve made your AFFECT upon me worthless
and in the grandest
most honest and cherished schemes of life
I just no longer …
give a damn.
POLITICS AND LEADERSHIP
Chambers to Dais, Office and Palaces,
Coup d etats or electoral success.
Hereditary Throne or Law’s Clauses,
The roots of power has many sources.
One man’s oratories on a stage,
An inept fledgling of royal lineage.
Soldiers with arms or a religious sage,
Claimants to power of all rank and age.
A single party’s ideology,
Constitution, might or authority.
Islam’s fatwa, presidential decree,
Power’s voices or its cacophony?
But what is it that truly sets apart,
A tyrant fool from a righteous of heart?
In history’s face, both will play a part,
The latter it’s highlight, the first it’s wart.
The only power of tyrants they say,
Is righteous opposition kept at bay.
People held in fear have nothing to say,
Blindly accepting everything their way.
He oppresses all thoughts where freedom flows,
The avenues of reform he keeps closed.
Assured that to him everyone kowtows,
An independent life, is what’s gone most.
It’s indifference amid sufferings,
Never tolerating those opposing.
To cover the truth with brazen lying,
That marks a regime’s villainous ruling.
To become a servant of the people,
The soul must be pure and the heart, noble.
To all be fair, he must be capable,
In Rome’s dark hours, to stand not fiddle.
One who listens, equally to all sides,
Who upholds the law and protects the rights,
Of every one, for the oppressed he fights.
In dark moments, the torch of hope he lights.
He inspires from others fierce loyalty,
In accepting shortcomings truthfully.
He knows he’s mere human, not a deity,
But in crisis can act decisively.
He accepts others freedom to speak,
Listens to other’s without being meek.
Amidst all these voices the truth he’ll seek,
To temper the strong willed and help the weak.
His dreams are shared by people he governs,
Never recalcitrant, he always learns.
To serve as one best could, in his heart burns,
True Freedom for all is what his soul yearns.
By his example, many will abide,
First among equals, a nation’s true pride.
Honour due him can never be denied,
To ride his blazing sunset, glorified.
Form:
It was not despised in the broken heart under the shade of the juniper tree It was present yet unseen from the start while touched by an angel that feed the It was there in your strength for the cave for people to be saved even in your prayer Passed by but not in the wind you are amazed not in the earthquake or the fire but there The still small voice heard God's love light God saves His anointed it is forever God's The Lord Jesus the true light sent angel bright to sever wrong from right the sword of God with helmet and armor of rare heavenly blue It is there as praise ascend to His throne on high in the music the still small voice is heard too God's love light outshines the sun in the sky A fragrant flower in some very dark hours opening ears to His awesome loving power - * John Beam The still small voice- 2/4/2014
Who am I is a question,
That baffles and confuses me.
Aren’t I a stranger to myself,
When in me angels and demons cohabit,
Dwelling side by side.
Sometimes I am mired in confusion.
Sometimes I feel I am a moth caught fast in the fire,
And about to be burnt, when drawn to light
Mindless of the great peril looming.
Sometimes I feel I am sidelined and ignored,
And left out from the mainstream of life,
Like a book stacked away on a rusty shelf
In a dark corner, never touched or dusted.
After a wave of rising energy
I fall into a state when I feel so inert and dull.
At times, feel that I am a lifeboat without oars.
But soon I alight on the lighthouse of joy.
As the cycle of seasons keeps changing
The pendulum of my life swings from joy to sorrow
And hope and despair are threaded,
Into the tapestry of life as warp and woof
Essentially kind and compassionate,
I am moved to tears whenever I see,
An instance of human suffering
And tears of joy well my eyes
When I witness human excellence and pride over it.
Time has mellowed me, and wisdom has taught me,
To see the inner light shining in me.
Even when dark clouds creep into my night sky
Beneath the façade of my aching torso,
I see a soul eternal and indestructible.
At best, I like to think that I am a child of God,
And I strive to be led by that inner light.
Even when I swim in the doldrum of life,
I pray to release the infinitesimal quantum of energy,
That keeps the fire in me ever-blazing,
To add my lustre even to the stars.
To love and be loved is my credo,
For “even if I speak
in the language of angels and have no love
I am only a noisy, empty gong”.
There is a spark of heavenly fire in each one of us
Though it may lie dormant in broad daylight
It kindles up, beams, and blazes
In the dark hours of adversity.
So, frolic in the Living water and dance on the cliff
An edifice constructed through years of hard labor
May be destroyed overnight but keep building anyway!
When "The lightening Strikes",and we hear a "Powerful Thunder","Our minds and hearts envision,and think of all the "Great Songs"sung by "The Creative Artist"named "Stevie Wonder! I hear the "Thunder": I hear the "Thunder"! Is that you "Stevie Wonder"? Not "The "Thunder over Louisville"! I hear "Stevie Wonder! Stevie Wonder has never seen "The light of day,but "Stevie"gives us "Light"in his own special way! "Stevie Wonder" has never seen "The darkness of night",because his "Mind Shines",and gives "Light"! Stevie Wonder makes our lives happy and "Bright"during the dark hours,and in the light! Stevie Wonder hypnotizes us with "Positive musical,and spiritual "Vibes"without any "Disguise"!Stevie Wonder is able to "Hypnotize "us with his music and songs,and words while "His Body ""Sways and Swerves"! "I hear the "Thunder"! I hear the "Thunder": I hear "The Great Creative Artist ,and his name is "Stevie Wonder"! "Stevie" is a "Wonder" to "Hear",as we see him preform. He gives us "Joy"and never does us any harm. Stevie Wonder's songs can sometimes bring us much "Joy" in the midst of an unpredictable storm! We start to feel "Joyful and warmed"!! Stevie Wonder reflects and absorbs "The Greatness that God has created in him through music and song,and the things he does to make this world palatable while he tries to fill this world with some "Love",blessed to do that which is sent from "Heaven up above". Stevie Wonder has "Positively Inspired" 'The Entire World"and All Nations in unpredictable situations:Stevie is a member of "The United Nations"! Stevie Wonder sung a "Great Song",and inspired Barack H.Obama who is "The First Black President of The United States of America,and this nation! "Stevie Wonder" put on a "Great Show"at "The Presidential Inauguration,causing positive vibes,thrills,and hypnotic sensations! Stevie Wonder has helped those in this "world and this nation come together,and be like birds of a feather that can flock together!!!!
THE FINISH LINE
We’re going through this life on earth as runners in a race;
We have a goal to get to heaven to see our Saviour’s face.
Our eyes are on that finish line, to hear His words, “Well done,”
But someone else is in this race that with us daily runs.
He, too, has his own finish line--not lofty, not of bliss,
But rather it’s the lake of fire, and he’s aware of this.
So he joins in our race of life in every way he can
To get us off the proper track, to stray from God’s great plan.
And as he ever nearer gets to his own finish line,
His effort to destroy us all intensifies with time.
He’s subtle with his many tricks--accusing, murder, lies;
Just when we think we’ve conquered him he pulls a new surprise.
Yes, Satan’s in this race with us, we must now be aware
He’s fighting to destroy our lives and really doesn’t care.
He is not out to help us reach that high and lofty goal,
No, he is out to wreck and ruin our lives, our very soul.
We may well wish with all our might that he’d get off our track
Because he wants to wear us down to get us to turn back.
But he is there, he’s not about to weaken and to quit,
So we must stand up straight and tall, say, “Behind me, Satan, get!”
We must keep heart, mind, and soul devoted to the Lord
And overcome this enemy with the power of God’s sword.
When we get to that finish line and cross it into home,
We’ll see the one who ran before, who for us did atone.
Yes, Jesus crossed that finish line in perfect victory
When He was nailed there on the cross upon Mount Calvary.
And as He looked into the sky when those dark hours were past,
He now could shout, “It’s finished,” for the race was won at last.
Now He looks down, as others do, who ran the race before
And tells us not to give up till we cross to heaven’s shore.
So let us run and look to Him, and soon in His own time
We’ll meet Him in His blessed home there at the finish line.
A shaman priestess
Is deep in thought
Engaged in Meditation
on the fate
Of the earth
She is deep in the cosmic woods
In the world between worlds
Where she is communing
With the spirits of the universe
Who listen to her tale of woe
She tells them
Of the rise of the neo fascists
And the refusal to address
The possible end of the world
Due to run away climate change
She prays and prays
And finally
She receives an answer
More a prediction
It is all up to humans
She has two visions
Of a possible future
Two contrasting visions
One a dystopian nightmare
The other an optimistic vision
The first
The neo fascists
Seize control
And usher in a dystopian nightmare
That ends with utter destruction
Nuclear war
Nuclear winter
Ends climate change
As civilization ends
And mankind retreat to caves
And it happens
In a blink of an eye
In less than five years
The world will end
Game over civilization ends
The second vision
The optimistic vision
Humanity wakes up
From their collective night mare
Throws off the neo fascist cabal
And begin to change the world
Making the economy works
For all of us
Not just the corrupt 1 percent
The so-called masters of the Universe
They are overthrown
In a people’s power revolution
All over the world
People wake up
Demand change
And slowly the world
Begins to recover
And overcome
The dark hours
Of the present age
The shaman priestess
Returns home
To spread the word
It up to us
To choose our fate
The end is indeed near
It is darker than you think
But it is not over yet
If we choose the path
Of the cosmic light
And overthrow
The neo-fascist cabal
And restore democracy
And peace will break out
And all will end well
If not
Well she says
You have been warned
The universe has spoken
So, mote it be
april 16 poem for April Poetry Challenge
MYSTERY
The earth is young and old,
Some parts of it hot and cold,
In contrast with the N-S poles,
Earth's watchtower glitters like gold,
And the dark hours as coal,
The night breeze always cool.
So many a thing exists,
Many are beyond the knowledge of man,
Of which man cannot interpret,
The works of nature are magnificent,
Notwithstanding the times that were ancient.
The earth is young,
Life is old and young,
Can man think of these things?
Can man ponder and interpret these things?
What is the meaning of life?
How do life came to be?
What is the origin of life?
That’s a mystery,
The existence of man is something unsolved.
The apparitions of man,
Soul ,body and spirit of man,
The after life of man,
The myths of abyss and ancestral dwellings,
All are man's perception of after life. Who can tell the real fact?
The vast water bodies,
Covering most part of the earth,
The power controlling the waters,
Mountain ranges and valleys,
The sun , moon and other filaments,
Separating the night from the day, And the entire works of nature, All being a puzzle to man.
Growing up as a kid,
I was taken to an upland one day,
On beholding the wonderful sight of horizon,
I shouted, ''see where the world stops''
The man said, ''no boy that’s where our eyes can reach,there is still more after that'',
The wonders of life never ends,
And the lesson it teaches never stops.
The earth being below heaven,
The clouds covering the space and heaven,
The magnificent heaven we hear about,
Its another mystery itself, But about the supreme creator,
I what I cannot question about.
ANYABOLU IFEANYI GENTLE
A.D 2018, MAR 27
Daydreams – A day in the life.
I awake to a cornucopia of routines,
a lunch basket - of useless habits
carrying me into the realm of, dreamland
a carnival midway full of mirrored visions
that have become imbedded in the sands of, time
representing images of wooden horses,
the essence of a carousel going round and round,
going up and down in my subconscious mind,
night after night, the same themes permeate
my nightly ride in the world of dreams, day or night.
Dreams or reality ?, I am always standing on the outside
fighting for my rights, my perceived place in the universe,
not just to be looking in on, but to be on inside
where I know I once was – yes, on that ride
in the fast lane, were I was in control of the game,
that now is dead for this man, where nothing is the same.
Now, from inside my dreams, I am standing on the outside,
looking in, watching my life pass me by, wondering why
I see others at the helm, at the controls, in control !!!,
making decisions that affect, infect, direct my fate
during the dark hours of night, where it is late,
where I contemplate, wonder why this is my fate ?
Is this the way my life is ?, is this where I let go ?,
where I let it all go ?, I cannot say, I just do not know
if a pawn, in the game of life, is what my dreams show
and that my dreams are telling me, is, so
that I may see a reality, an undeniable truth
that tells of my wasted years, my wasted youth
and the paths, down which I have gone.
Upon which, no glorious light has shone,
just shadowy, dim light in dark corners
where, in the end, stand no mourners,
not even I, as thought tears fill this eye
and life passes me by, hanging me out to dry,
then, like dust in the wind, to be no more, just a sigh
upon the breath of time, and memories passing by.
B. J. “A ” 2
December 9th 2003