Long Denied Poems
Long Denied Poems. Below are the most popular long Denied by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Denied poems by poem length and keyword.
Heavy are the layers of dust on a forgotten book
Death is the final chapter
the closing of the book of a life
Prolonged or sudden
accepted or denied
pleasant or painful
Death is
Loved ones hurting
tears falling
memories fading
peace
rest
The face of death is that of sleep
A life surrenders
a time pass
what was was
what is is
what will be will be
dirt tumbles on the casket
Flames to ashes
sailing on the last voyage to eternal
Does paradise beckon?
Awaken into a light
Lifted
A slab of stone with name, dates, Death is
Will the book ever be reopen again with new chapters added...
A story of love
Eva Braun was a Greenland seal who lived in an aquarium
Herr Hitler liked animals; dogs adored him.
in childhood, his call for love denied him
his dream was sitting by the fireside stroking a dog
and feeding Eva in her aquarium.
In the country, I lived on many tiny islands
bridges built; the islands no longer feel like islands.
Nevertheless, we stood at the gangway of a ferry
that was going to an island that didn’t have a bridge
I knew you were not coming back, pleaded with
you gave me a phone number when I tried to call
it sounded as was dipped into a fish tank
I heard repressed laughter; it must have been
fun to joke with a man you no longer found useful.
C`est la vie…
Much of my life has been in the environs of church activities,
some of which found me in the presence of 'faith healing evangelists'.
I do not mean to be, but I tend to be a natural sceptic; so I look deeper.
Therefore, I have often been internally inquisitive of what others say they saw. Even though both their eyes and mine were present, we often saw differently.
Me thinks sometimes we see what we want to see and create our own realities. I am by choice and by Divine Favor a person of faith and live within and outside the box. I am far more influenced and moved by 'the prayer of faith' from any 'unnoticed everyday believer' than by Faith Healers, and I have every reason to believe that The Lord responds to 'the unnoticed'. Moreover, it is the prayer of faith that saves the sick....*
I am much too rational for some and a bit radical for others; so I am not out to please. I have been in meetings of 'Faith Healers', but have witnessed far less realistic healings. I believe that there are bona fide mortals of giftedness who heal through faith in Christ, and I do not hesitate to say that I am often disenchanted by mortals, but always enriched in Christ. It's not that most of them are charlatans, because they are usually sincere in their faith, but I am inclined to believe that there is less substance and a lot more exuberant emotions.
It is unfortunate that dollar signs and the thirst for prosperity have outpaced healings exceedingly. Minus a few bad and ugly apples, my journey in the arenas of Faith Healers have been good. In spite of the misleading, the misfortunes, and the misplacements of 'faithful hopefuls', the True Healer, Christ, still heals. Faith Healing does not have to be denied, nor should all Faith Healers be placed in the same camp. Personally, I have always sought to have 'A Balanced Faith' that keeps me deeply rooted in Christ.
120220PSCtest, Faith Healer Poetry, Kai Michael Neumann
*James 5:15a
Often it is I wonder of things my life’s supplied
Some things I had wanted - others were denied
Some things I planned, oh so carefully
Other things just happened, rather naturally
There are people I have met, all those places that I’ve seen,
And, of course, all those other things wedged tightly in between
Ah … such a marvel, all those things that I have done
I wonder now, when this life ends: Will there be another one?
Can it ever end, Nature’s Grand Scheme of things?
Does it go on forever, in other worlds of happenings?
Does it abruptly end, in a chasm dark and cold,
Or is there another world of wonders to behold?
If there is another world in which we will abide
I’ve not heard from anyone who’s reached that “other side”
I guess it matters not, while it is we live and breathe
But another world beyond this one – I simply can’t conceive.
How could it be much better, when we think of things right here
Sunlight, fresh air, and … holding someone dear?
Seasons come and go with each its’ wondrous fare
To think there’s something better – oh, I mustn’t dare!
To travel down the Road of Life my being has supplied
Allowed me to absorb those things taken in my stride
And assisting in my absorption of those things I did accrue
Many would not have come to me, without the person who is you.
You will have to fight to survive
Whispered the guardian angels
Watching over me
As I was swivelling in between the folds
Of consciousness lapsed in deep sleep!
You will have to fight
Even if we will be by your side!
My soul woke up, bloomed into a hurt heart
And it whispered back,
Why should I fight for it
If such is not what was chosen for my fate?
Pray, I would accept Death even if such was what was
Deemed best for me
I would accept anything except having to fight
For that which was never destined for me!
Why should I fight?
Is Life on Earth a battlefield?
Are we to fight for survival, for love, for security?
This is getting way too heavy for my frail stature
Guardian angels, muse of my poetry,
This is getting way too heavy
Pray, if life, or love is not meant for me
Then may I denied of it!
I don't believe in fighting for anything
The blinded and the unawakened fight,
Guided by their senses, by their egos
They fight for that which is transient, for that
Which is temporary, for that which turns to shadows
They fight for that which is not to be fought for!
Why, after all, Existence remains a mystery
Of our purpose here in this world we still have no idea
Struggling have I always been with life
And with everything that makes it up
Ever since I first dawned
Yet, I always held out my palms in resigned submission
To whatever life has to give me
I'd rather crumble, die, shatter into nothingness
Than fight!
The Journey
I take you places, here and there,
Some you do not want to go…to.
It is better than being from.
So I keep taking YOU…
The list is still long.
I want to take you to Auschwitz.
I want to walk you into the oven.
I want you to touch the walls,
then be surprised as the door closes.
Not slowly, but suddenly and completely.
The moment you realize, this is just to teach,
not real, but yet, the second before that…
the hesitation in your (atheist) soul,
the quiver in your inner being,
was …something altogether… breathless…desperate and painful.
I want to take you to Venezuela for a vacation.
I want to serve you dog and rat, so that you will be full and happy.
The people they are beautiful there, as we (they) paint everything in blood.
Having sold their freedom to parental government,
The price of the word, “free” by definition, needs to be explained…
further.
We will stop at “All” the best places. I want to take you there.
I want to show you that none of this is real…
It has such low appeal to anyone on their phone,
that it is missed on a business trip,
or forgotten out of time.
Then denied altogether,
out of the course of each day.
The lion’s den was full of death.
Daniel was there.
God was too.
He is here.
Amen.
Think of May as a wonderful month, never rude,
bringing beautiful days with warm showers...
to make beach goers wrap themselves in towels,
then the hottest sun will break through!
Why do we love this month that makes everyone fantasize?
Is it the new flowers, or Mother's Day itself?
We agree, its the last one I mentioned with great surprise...
wanting to honor the one we all love to death!
And as I am talking about this special event, which is of a specific sort,
you wouldn't forget to give her a little sweet something
that she likes: from a single flower, or paper heart to a chocolate torte;
many more you can find: like puppets that dance and sing!
Think of May as a wonderful month when imagination is wild and free to err,
and the desire to escape is not limited to sea, sky or a far-away friend;
it can reach, quicker than any whispered prayer, the loneliest heart so afraid,
but ready to embrace mom's heart despite the love one has denied her!
Entered in Carol Brown's contest,
" Memories Of May "
Written by Andrew Crisci
You were like a daughter to me and I was like a dad.
Your death was heart-breaking because it was so bad.
I got the idea to call you my baby doll because that was what Mom called her cat.
In August of 2013, my house became your new home and that's where you died at.
It has been one year since you died.
You were a great dog and that can't be denied.
I found you dead in my kitchen at about ten o'clock.
I would've rather had my head bashed in by a rock.
I was very upset and I knew that I wouldn't get any sleep so I stayed up most of the night.
I buried you the next morning and I'm sure that other pet owners can understand my plight.
When a person has a pet that's as special as you, it is sure to please.
I'll never forget you even if I live to be 100 and have Alzheimer's Disease.
[Dedicated to Agnes (2011-2020) who died one year ago on July 11, 2020]
The Circus gongs excite the Throngs in nighttime Never Land –
They swarm to see the destiny of Freaks at their command,
While Acrobats step pitapat above the shifting sands
And Lady Fat sits down to chat and oozes charm unplanned.
The Dwarfs in suits, so small and cute when marching with the Band,
Ask crimson Clowns with frozen frowns, to hold a mutant hand,
While Tamers’ whips with withered tips, throughout the winter land,
Lure Cats entranced through hoops enhanced with flames of fires fanned.
White Elephants in big-top tents boast black-tusk contraband
To regiments of Sycophants who overflow the stands,
But No One sees anomalies, and No One understands.
At night’s demise, the dither dies, the lonesome Crowd disbands,
Down dead-end streets the Horde retreats, their tattered rags in strands,
And Janes and Joes reweave their woes, for thoughts of change are banned.
To play a part in Three-Ring Art, I thought I’d try my hand –
I mastered skills, I felt the thrills, I breathed and seethed firsthand –
But destiny denied to me to taste a lifetime spanned
With tightrope walks and trapeze chalks ... excepting second-hand...
For alcohol provoked a fall, as if a reprimand,
And now, a heap, I sometimes keep the ticket office manned...
In our next life,
let's swap lives,
You become the poet , i become the muse
You yearn for me while I stay oblivious
You write books on me,
while I don't bother
In our next life
I get the flower and you deal with the thorns
In our next life
I love me like breathing
while you admire my dawn.
After all, the knife was your's and the wound was mine
Yet, Yet 'I' called it love every darn time
Everything you made up
Everytime you gaslit
My brain denied but my heart didn't
The fire of desire was to be smothered by ice
But neither did the fire burn my ice( My Brain), my ice was frozen in
Into neither believing nor confrating
for confranting was forbidden by fire(heart)
and acknowladgement is mocked ice.
But now when ice melts fire
the birthing sunshine kills desire
here l am standing still
Standing strong like never before
For now I have learnt the art of letting go
The letting go of love
the achievement of wave pain
Now I have learnt that love doesn't circle
I have learnt that love maybe was just mend for us
For now I know my smothered desire and my shaken fire Would STILL ROOT FOR ME
But I am still fond of the time
When I thought the stars aligned
aligned to show love
But soon realised thats not how they rhymed.
And now when I am learning the lesson of faith and letting go of your vain
When ice is estinguished and fire melted
And Now finally ,
When I can not unlove you
I envy the people who never met you.