Long Deemed Poems

Long Deemed Poems. Below are the most popular long Deemed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deemed poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Of An Ebony Hued Mid-Summer Night Dream: Apropos of We Kings, Queens, and the Fiery Furnace

OF AN EBONY HUED MID-SUMMER NIGHT DREAM
(Apropos of We Kings, Queens, and The Fiery Furnace)

Indeed, this is a day the Lord has made:-
Considering last night’s revelation dreaming,
Waking up into this day the Lord has made,
I must enjoy and be glad for being still vertical.

Although “The Great Dream” may have been deferred,
Indeed, it has not been forgotten and deterred.
Oh, they may have murdered its dreamer, but
His and our liberation dream is immortal:-

Looking out over the horizon of our challenged life,
It is realized that we Exodus people have come a long way;
Survivors of the blood-stained shadows of horrific death:-
And we have come this far on the sojourn by faith.

Yes, we have come this far by an inherent faith—continuing 
To maintain and sustain us in the present perils of our lives:-
And as African-Americans, surviving in this deemed “promise land”,
We’ve had and continue to have a special kind of relationship with God.

During our living experiences here during and after debilitating slavery,
We’ve seen, heard, felt, and responded to the Word of God in ways that
Are unique to us as an African people of God; for indeed, as chosen ones,
We’ve always been able to sing and praise God in truth and in holy spirits.

Reflecting on the truth of ourstory, it is realized that we are of a people
Whom many would have expected to have stopped singing and praying 
A long time ago; yet, from generation to generation, we’ve just kept on
Singing and praising and trusting in the love of God and His redemption.

Indeed, sacred revelations continue to bring us from extermination
To exaltation, from degradation of dignity, from nobody to somebody;
With wide wondering eyes on the prize, we continue to sojourn onward
For our eyes have seen His glory as we have continued marching in His truth.

Indeed, we not only believe but know that in the savior’s favor
Life is and while our perils may endure here a little while longer,
We know that a liberating joyful stay here on earth is on the horizon
Promised by that very present help to those who live in good trouble;

Thus, let us not be exhausted nor deterred by the ghost tyranny
But with undying faith and spiritual strength, let us victoriously
Demonstrate that we are not of the children of Sisyphus’ fate;
But living reflections of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego:-
Form: Prose


On the Catwalk

In numerous locales countrywide, they hold sway
Pirouetting at intervals like ballerinas from Bolshoi
Beauteous, feline and very feminine
Slender to the point of emaciation, not quite
Cultivating the undernourished look on a frugal diet
Decidedly austere for a longer tenure in the limelight
Basking in the fleeting warmth of an adulatory audience
A gathering of the doting kindred and the upwardly mobile
Some dirty old men on the sly, dirty young men too
Glued to their seats craning for a better view
By and large captive by choice, a handful perforce
Sitting through to pen their weekly column
Giving those they fancy their due in the sun
Witnesses to a parade of demure eyed lasses
And a few with flashy looks walking tall on stilettos
Essentially female and contoured though not prominently so
At least not to a marked degree, yet with excellent muscle tone

Opulence, no longer deemed a career necessity
Once considered right stuff, now rejected as wrong size
An hour-glass shape belonging to an age bygone 
But hardly so, from the viewers’ mind, in retrospect
Enchanting and alluring yet not overtly titillating
Each in a state of dress and undress
Willing tools of designers flaunting their creations
Sporting dresses and hats and shoes, and lingerie too
In black or white and loud or subdued hues
Displaying formal wear, casual wear, swimsuits and sleep suits
Some scanty and figure hugging, others flowing and loose
A bony look required for some, others fulsome
A voyeur’s paradise, to be sure
Indulging a fetish without stooping too low
Chilly weather was never reason enough to cancel a show
Heat of arc-lamps taking care of goose pimples
Or brandy taken neat infusing the needed heat

Harbingers of tomorrow’s fashion and pall-bearers of today’s
The strobe lit platform of the pageant
Serving to launch new faces or is it legs?
The leggy look personified by Twiggy of yore
Carried through in the interim and sustained by the new genre
Captivating without doubt, and thorough professionals
Displaying unruffled demeanour and tutored bearing of thoroughbreds
Exuding confidence with every graceful step they take
Cool as ice despite the harsh glare of stage lights
And callous catcalls from boorish males
Performing in a backdrop of future fashion trends
Money and fame finding some, eluding others
Be it centre stage or in the shadows 
It is bread on the catwalk for all

Premium Member Must Go, Must Do

We lived about a hundred miles Northwest of Chicago                                                                                                      It was the winter of '73, and snow was covering the roads
In the land of cheese and phesants, the air was crisp and cold                                                                                  Surely, I must have been bored; or more likely,  I was a lunatic
I should have relaxed on that quiet day with my lovely and wise                                                                                     wife who pleaded with me not to drive on such icy roadways.

I was convinced that duty demanded I balance the books.                                                                                         I deemed myself important and vital for the success of our
drug prevention program.  Yes, I was obsessed with my work                                                                                   and blind to any and everything else that tried to change me.

I was in love with my wife, but I was also having an unhealthy affair.              I had heard of extra marital affairs, but no one told this 23 year old           about obsessive affairs on the side.  How could my premarital counsellor
have overlooked such crucial fine print and denied me of such vital details?                                                          Why wasn't  I informed that I could be driven by an unseen combustible
engine inside my brain, compelling me to committ forbidden and obsessive actions? How was I to know that I could be so wrapped up by my job?                                                   

Not to be denied though, I would soon learned the hard way which is probably
the only way I was going to learn anyway.  Less than a mile up the icy road, my vehicle's tire blew; I went into a spin, knocking down a mail box; and the next voice I heard was not an audible one, but my own mind speaking. "You should have listened to your wife!!!".  I was all ears and sitting quietly in my 'upside down vehicle'.  The only injury was my bruised pride.                                                                                

That was my first bout with my form of obsessive compulsive behavior which was before the term was even invented.
71917PSContest, Obsessions, Silent One, P2
Form: Narrative

Premium Member The Subject of Rosebuds

Rosebuds draft in scarlet, crimson, or maroon,
dreams to capture the viewer's point of view,
as its blossom's sheath their basis to its prune,
magnificent achievers rise in rows queue,
as the loss of age cast their field of thorn strewn,
shadows the facades to pipe a distinct tune,
shear away those sharp pokey points of danger,
and frail petals to amend its life-changer.

Amendments trail the housed maxed of tabletops,
of revived rosebuds claim a home as their own,
a treasured wealth trades with the town's floral shops,
then set at one's front wicket by an unknown,
or adorn tombstones as floral wreaths that props,
and crowned on a princess who sits on her throne,
a taxing burden to detain the death masque,
not tiny but thornless as Bonsai craft's task.

The Pyramid steps like the Baguio steppes,
where Filipinos view as their time-out spot,
the other is ancient for tourists who peps,
while an isle serves the rosebuds to sprout and squat,
nature confides stemmed thornless maroon by reps,
students check articles of the course they plot,
as a new breed of rosebuds shelved a terrace,
elegance embrace the solitaire heiress.

Loosely sketched parcels that the rosebud dwells in,
fresh sod fertile and well-sopped sealed neath the sun,
from its current strain, since its birth in Eden,
inspire blossoming with faint buzzes outdone,
coy rumors, green greener, red redder, seeds in,
East rises, and West sets, how the rosebud won,
Bonsai is an ancient craft not deemed as new,
man named rosebuds since their virgin birth, it grew.

Spring sprung sprouts as their healthy roots hug the ground,
a wealth of newborns reach for the warmth of skies,
its outstretched stem hardens merely being gowned,
a promised promenade paramount to rise,
by patrons, the sun, moon, and earth make their round,
a glowing shape as a rosebud is its prize,
the fields are graced with rosebuds color-filled rows,
as they grow in opened splendor till it snows.

Botanical Society best: Sowers.
ranked by their breeds and regions where they were raised,
down to idyllic truths, forthcoming growers,
who take pleasure in their leisure being phased,
where growth is best tended as their height lowers,
promised its dowery by virtuous praised,
reach prosperous glory in you or outpours,
rain or shine achievers within or outdoors.
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Earth's Tragic Events

Earth's Tragic Events 


Earth's tragic events 
Seem to crawl upon us, 
Anniversaries of deadly happings 
Spread across our atlas. 

Today marks an anniversary 
Of the San Francisco earthquake, 
It happened back in 1906 
The earth did violently shake. 

The Titanic was deemed "unsinkable" 
By her brave Captain, 
Hit an iceberg off the coast of Newfoundland 
Her maiden voyage, came to an end. 

The sister ship to the Titanic 
Met her bitter end too, 
Named "Gigantic," renamed "Britannic" 
Struck a mine, sank, she was also subdued. 

Then there was air disasters 
The Hindenburg, should be mentioned, 
Caught fire in mid air 
The sky that fateful day, was blackened. 

We have also been through 
Two deadly World Wars, 
Many people killed along the way 
Something, the world couldn't ignore. 

Earthquakes and hurricanes 
Are to blame too, 
Lives lost and still remembered 
This world needs to be rescued. 

Nuclear power plants 
Blowing up and spreading deadly gases, 
Twenty years ago today, it happened 
People are still suffering in masses. 

People following a person 
Whom claimed he was Jesus' disciple, 
Murdered innocent women and children 
Thought he was the King of his castle. 

A building blown up and defaced 
By two insane people, 
Small children in kindergarten perished 
This world holds a hateful burden. 

Kids taking guns to school 
Thinking they're all that, 
Killing fellow students and people who teach 
Please, it's finally time to throw in the hat. 

Planes crashing through buildings 
By terrorists filled with hate, 
A President fighting a battle for his father 
Another war, it did create. 

Bombs being placed on buses 
Watch restaurants and skies ignite, 
People's lives being short-lived 
Relatives filled with fright. 

Subways and trains being blown 
All to kingdom come, 
Lives being destroyed and ripped apart 
This violence isn't welcome. 

The ground shakes 
Beneath the feet of miners, 
Explosions and lives quickly taken away 
Families filled with anger. 

When will the hurting stop? 
We all drop to our knees, 
All we want in the world 
Is human kindness and a lot of PEACE. 

Copyright Cynthia Jones 
Apr.18/2006 

I know I probably left a lot of things out, but I wrote about the events that tore my heart in two.
art
Form: Rhyme


Donald Trump Equals Pathological Psychopath

Donald trump = pathological psychopath

Fred Trump taught his sole son Donald 
how to steal the leading way into more ass, 
though no hint given, nor prediction forecast 
in his growing up years, that would foretell, 
thru base anaphylactic cronyism, egotistical 
gall insidious kleptomania call, malodorous 

Machiavellian offal obnoxious quintessential 
skullduggery, unfair wicked yik yak zeal 
to wield selfishness, a mean mogul with brass, 
who would unstintingly live up to his surname, 
and trump every law in the books of jurisprudence 
and crass bend avast set of constitutional laws 
to feed his ferocious fealty to the all mighty dollar 

flaunting, fleecing, and flipping  the welfare 
of those (he deemed must serve him 
his insatiable hunger) to connive, dictate,
and expedite his hell bent assiduity, 
an empire fit for a King, who felt no aversion 
to mollycoddle, peddle, and wheedle 

any zealous contractual obligation 
(immediately abrogated), and concoct fabrications 
vis a vis, a visa versa MasterCard his 
American Express shun re: the art of the raw 
FitBit (if necessary browbeating, depriving, 
forfeiting meting out legally obligated pay 

whenever an inconvenient truth awoke 
in his noggin reneging fiduciary promises 
to the risk-taking, moon shining, toiling citizens 
ala Indian giving per many an unfair deal 
exuding crass with especial treatment 
to withhold wages for his (held in check) 

Polish laborers, who built his city on rock and rolling
stock – so a Starship emblazoned with 
outsize ego of an exploiter with no pay 
to his backbreaking Polish construction 
motley crue nor even mucho grassy us 
for erecting his empire now ranked in 
billions of dollars unfairly pointing a finger 

to berate, dictate and finagle foreigners 
(illegal immigrants, he would now boot 
out of this country) to carry out drudgery
with hungry stomachs growling at slave wages, 
lamentably plodding since any other employer 
might question their vlsa status, hence anger 
boils within this generic human enraged 

his wealth squeezed from every last drop 
of said craftsman, now if still alive old and 
broken men crushed by the mighty 
self proclaimed dictator of the proletariat, 
whose hollow being blind sides those 
he stares down, yet beware all that glitters ain't gold!

Grace

Striving for perfection comes with a price 
so it's true the higher you climb the more unforgiving people become, 
so I ask God let thy will be done not mines, 
I too felt like I was in the garden of Gethsemane in my life time, 
forced to make decisions about the people in it when their season was finished, 
am I tripping. That's what they said,
and my actions obviously led them to believe that this wasn't supposed to happen, 
kinda like how we who call ourselves believers or even devout saints 
weren't suppose to let sin be the reason we relapsed. Cut out the Holier than thou act 
truth is even those you idolize and pedestal are in rehab, 
everyone is struggling with something, 
so go ahead keep lying to yourself but note to self 
the first step is acceptance, accepting that you are far from right with God, you went left.
Go ahead repent, what the Holy spirit does that non believers or atheist will never get 
is that it shoots straight threw pride past your emotions and leaves a convicting spirit 
with the fear in your soul where you finally can admit and say "I'm not right" 
you see the biggest misconception about Christianity in the west, 
is that if you accept Jesus as your Lord and saviour then everything this world, 
these streets couldn't offer you he will and indeed bless you with the rest. 
But here's the truth, 
just because you came in class late you are not exempt from the test,
Hell, God made his self into a man, 
and because he saw no end to our ancestors wickedness, 
he deemed it necessary that the only way to redeem us was to give up himself for us. 
Now I'm no preacher, I don't even go to church 
so don't confuse me with any lay member, minister, or deacon just someone who kinda
knows the Holy script according to how the Catholic church saw fit to write it up. 
but here's the message. How can you, a finite flawed human being compete with his
perfection, you can't, stop trying he knows this, so start shooting for progression. 
Because no matter how good of a saint you try to be, 
you can't buy your way into Heaven. 
He paid the price you've been set free from bondage of the flesh. 
You got what you didn't deserve, 
he took what was coming to you and that's what we call grace.
So I guess my only other question to those who say only God can judge me, 
without Christ Jesus how you plan to beat the case...
© Corey Ross  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Second Fiddle

I once knew a teacher who occasionally used the word ‘fiddle'.  If perhaps he deemed something untrue or irrelevant; or if annoyed by students or otherwise disagreeable, he would simply say, “fiddlesticks”.

In the instrumental world of music, a fiddle is a violin. Have you read that Emperor Nero fiddled while Rome burned? And I once heard about a musical called, “Fiddler On The Roof”. But this is not the kind of fiddle that presently occupies my brain.

In nautical usage, a fiddle is a frame or railing on a ship’s table to keep dishes from falling off in rough weather. But 'fiddle’ of the high seas is not what I’m thinking about.

There’s such broad usage of a most simple word. Very interesting.                                                                     Why, this most interesting word also addresses, ‘waste of time’.                                                                                                It also refers to being in excellent health, like ‘fit as a fiddle’.

O forbid that I should fiddle like Nero and ‘let things burn’.                                                                                                              May I always be productive, never given to ‘wasting time’.                                                                                                  But let me be energetic, useful, caring, and ‘fit as a fiddle’.

The word ‘fiddle’ also expresses one acting in a subordinate position,                                                               such as, ‘play second fiddle’. Finally! This is the ‘fiddle’ that I am talking  about. If you have always been on top and driven to be number one or else,                                                             then perhaps the two spot is not for you. If you said 'no' when offered a                                                        VP position, or if you would never show up for a 6th man award, then                                                second fiddle is not a good fit for you. Nevertheless, at some point, we all  must ask the Gatorade question, “Is it in you? ” It took me a while.

After many years, I discovered a pattern in my life, and have come to believe that the pattern revealed the purpose of my life. Understanding my purpose
brought great peace.
cj02122014 PS Post 01082018

Premium Member Two States One Union In Southern Hospitality

Somewhere in her white house 
There was a gray future spouse 
Looking for cheese 
Doing as he please 
Enchanting accent came from the mouth 
A drawing sound noting the south 
Filled with luring charm 
Made a home by telling many a yarn 
Living in a guest quarter 
Which he could barely afford her 
Making his ways through academic halls 
Everyone studying engravings on the walls 
Defending peaceful thoughts interacting throughout student’s mall 
Coming to a relaxing place 
Seeing Carolina’s face 
“They are making their case”
The blue angel said 
About the reason she should not wed 
And take a lifelong committed man into her first bed 
“We have a right 
During our fight 
To cross our stripes 
Challenging city slicker’s type 
Slanting our color navy being no fool 
While having a civil feud” 
Wanting a comfort shot he stood calm 
Listening to reality going on 
This was love not a raunchy affair 
Where revenge was the dare 
“We made an X for a reason 
It was not an ax that was treason 
Wanting out of the union 
Northerner’s knew not what they were doing 
Money here money there 
We belles had land everywhere” 
Now this fellow 
Understood his bride’s bellow 
And wanted a few minutes to mellow 
“Look at the sun 
It is almost done 
Orange skies 
You are marrying a beautiful guy 
I am a gamecock 
Early morning riser with nice stock 
While you are a Tar Heel 
When hearts were a major steal 
Our relationship is very real 
Friends and family will watch us seal 
This romantic deal
Then enjoy a joyful meal”
Hearing his soothing voice 
She knew he was the proper choice 
“Our United States is at war 
Diplomatic rhetoric acting out having the stage floor
Rotten as a big apple at the core” 
Honest feelings had truth 
Questionable just like the Yankee spectacle Babe Ruth 
“Remember when physical interaction was deemed a sin 
Gossip talking where the two have been 
After our vows and we are alone 
Shutting off all Ma Bell phones 
I will state to only you 
Never will we be through”
Below the Mason Dixon line 
Where others are treated very kind 
Moon reminded them where they met 
No longer was the daylight set 
Darkness figured out this was the perfect get  
Lunar glare smiling watching the innocent talk 
Hoping they will be happy after the matrimony walk
Form: Rhyme

Division Against Humanity

Black vs white vs dark skin vs “yellow bone
Men vs women vs straight vs homosexual
Poor vs the rich vs Afro vs weave 
Christian vs Muslim vs atheist 


All are keeping score 
None will ever admit to being wrong 
All are “woke" 
You correct a brother and they'll go all intellectual on you with their fancy words 
And when you don't grasp what’s being said,  your opinion is null and void. 
A sister would rather twist your words and make you look foolish rather than accepting the truth and be nourished 
It's  every creature for themselves,  even at the expense of everything else 

All are hollering their righteousness in the mountains 
It's not about peace, about unity,  hell it's not about the course they claim  to fight for,  it's about gratification not justification 
Everybody rushes  to be “quoted “ 
Nobody hushes down to reach a fair conclusion, 
Because why would they want that?
If a solution is found,  what would they babble on about?,
The “intellectuals “ shall all be heard,
So do the “wise-saints” and the “woke" 
It was never about peace everlasting 
It's about making it in the history book 
Your idealism and ideologies are what important .

Now I’m not saying ignore the injustices of this broken world 
We should all fight to be heard and nobody should be deemed more important than the other 
You don't care about freedom, peace and unity 
If you did , you’d sit down and discuss a way forward and not debate your own ways to win  

What if crime was crime and a criminal,  a criminal 
Instead of an act of injustice against a certain group 
It'll be crime against Humanity , because unity 
Will a man be ashamed to report abuse against a woman? 
Nobody would point at him and see him weak for it because all are equal 
And it's not a woman against man, but an inhumane act against Humanity 
Would the less privileged frail to speak against the elite? 
A child be afraid to speak against family elders? 
Nobody would be punished less than they deserve 
All should fight to be heard and demand equality 
But if we all strive to surpass each other when will the rollercoaster stop?
How many more years should pass in order for us to decide to be humans first,
You’re human before religion, colour, race, gender, sexuality, class, 
You’re a human first.

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter