Long Desperations Poems
Long Desperations Poems. Below are the most popular long Desperations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Desperations poems by poem length and keyword.
Learning and not gaining the knowledge of truth,
virtues loss that talent is sold by reason proof.
The intellect in doubt when stupidity is confident,
the ignorance and its conscientious consequent.
The atheist’s ego and stress to believe in higher power,
recognized by being corrected and turning sour.
The loss of integrity by prudent act of knowledge,
but foolish expose that folly inferior grudge.
Delight of senseless proof in fact,
killing the potential of embrace in act.
Emotional intelligence the sphere of love,
believing or not are desperations for all above.
The power to control needs a story told,
ageless entities forever bold.
Entities of numbers have endless frames,
giving scientist room to theoretic claims.
Belief is the freewill of individuality,
where big bang becomes a lollipop sanctuary.
Expensive education the holy drag,
where every degree is a smoking ***.
By turning times to become a admired elite,
the evolution to turn into a Aphrodite.
The consequence of ego’s appetite,
making love to ones owns satisfied.
Black Powder Dreams
Vast o’ the seas carry forth desperations
Lives cast aside in the faces of war
Rotted wood planks, salted skin aspirations
Wind tattered sails bound of endless explore
Black powder dreams aft the end quarter season
Cannons at wait, closer still to the bow
Manned by the weak, none in need of a reason
Chilled to the bone, never wondering how
Darkened the depths beckon angry waves crashing
Bound to the rail by a pitch and a shove
Visions of loves and the homeland a’ flashing
Prayers slowly drowned before floating above
Scar rippled flesh, leathered treachery flailing
Shrieks in the night causing laughter below
Tethered by fear o’er the desolate wailing
Shadows await harbors safe to bestow
Compass point dangers adrift in the distance
Forced to push on to the end of the fall
Death shrouds belief in a fractured resistance
Down on their knees longing nothing at all
Endless the journey for pittance bled wages
Deaf to the thoughts found alone in the screams
Forever lost in the unopened pages
At the expense of their black powder dreams
11/7/18
Written for the: Black Powder Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen
The bees swarmed to dripping honey,
and love's illusion is not so funny
when the rabbit in the hutch
backs away from your very touch.
Today he is afraid
that you chose him for your maid
and the reproductive status hump
is lost in desperations malice lumps.
With no offspring to take his place
the embarrassment is on your face
and the honey bunny you had chased
became hassenfeffer sent to inner space.
Impatient Awaiting his return, the doe
displayed herself to all the farmyard beaus
and the buck was found out of luck
when all the kits were downy ducks.
Come out of there, you silly rabbit!
BUNNY JUMP and Caren Krutsinger 12/19/18
Rusty old sins burden my soul
Sending me broken parts,
Pieces of my most sinful thoughts
Lies, betrayals, grudges and hatred
So many moments of livid rage
Gripping the words of anger that
Passed my lips and colored another’s
Heart with wrath so furious it slashes
There are desperations that grip me
Confine my heart with despair and fear
Anxiety that nurses my old wounds
And commands me to simply not care
Along the walls of my heart, a line of
Wrecked emotions and irate passions
Respond to my yearning for affection
With reminders of what I have been
Sins are carefully judged and taken apart
By a heart that is hungry for a taste of hope
The savory blessing sent by God’s Son
Who died for these parts in my junkyard
October 4, 2019
My Favorite Junkyard Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
The flaming arrow flew far through the night sky,
shot from a wretched soul, lost in the abyss.
The tip is soaked in the blood of his deep longings,
may it find its mark and return healing bliss.
A powerful warrior and archer was he,
lowly reduced by the desperations of love.
His quill is empty, and fire's burning out,
one last hope lies with his Angel up above.
Many scars are left from battles fought and won,
yet as he ages his strong will is sinking.
Only one chance for the revival of faith,
true love must be stirred in her tender thinking.
Many years of searching have left him stranded,
in a dark, cold wilderness of loveless fear.
Riddled with deceit, demons are closing in,
sadness eases nothing, he can't shed a tear.
As he kneels down in hunger and blinding thirst,
to his Father God, he makes his final plea.
"Lord, let her find me and mend love's broken wings,
restore the tenderness, dying inside me!"
The flaming arrow falls to the earth at dawn,
into the passion of a fair maiden's heart.
With torrid yearning for the feel from this flame,
She prays, "Let me find him, that true love may start."
in my dreams I see a little town
far away in the distant skies,
in my dreams I fly to that town
on my white wings, speed of light,
past galaxies and shooting stars
through shrill darkness in quiet silence,
this vast expanse all unowned,
no flags, no boundaries, greed unknown.
nothing kills, and nothing dies,
there are no cries of desperations,
each star is born, from wombs of light,
when they pass they leave their lights behind,
blackholes, pulsars, nebulas and the rest,
just flickering stars to distant mortal eyes,
I see them near me as I pass,
each a fragment of divine powers,
even the fires here burn with a purpose,
fission and fusion for well meaning cause,
and consume not in hatred or ire
there is no place for that
in the vast kingdom of God.
I have many more light years to go,
before I reach my dreamland town,
but soon I must return
to my dressing gown, to continue
the routines on this earth,
It will take me many dreams to reach,
that dream town even at the speed of light,
but each dream is an awakening to the truth,
of the world we live in, and the world
we all aspire for.
each galaxy is a beating heart,
each pulsar is a mother with hope,
each star is a baby new born,
in the vast crucible of life,
we call the sky.
there were moments, times in my life
when I couldn’t pray – all I felt was strife
there were fears, tears, leftovers from grief
so dark and lonely, I couldn’t get any relief
there were sorrows beyond my understanding
night’s shadows, desperations expanding
there were wars within my spirit, fights
forcing me to feel lost, without any rights
there were storms that made me feel lost
when I look back, I still see what it cost
there were so many feelings I couldn’t express
times when my heart’s hope was only a guess
there were thoughts that fed my insecurities
desperation that left me with life’s impurities
there were relationships, oh, I’ve loved so much
wouldn’t it be beautiful to feel a gentle touch?
there were sensitivities that taught me to doubt
when it comes to feelings I often just want out
there were rains, tempests who were so garish
despite it all though – this love would never perish
amid the battles, amongst the cries – the salty tears
there came a voice stilling my worries and fears
it was love that reminded me - He’s always near
whatever I might face, His love is completely sincere
when I don’t know what to do and the pain is deep
I look to my Savior, knowing that my soul He will keep
THE CONDITION WE LIVING IN:Part 2:
The condition we living in,
The country is full of danger and doom.
Things are badly getting hard.
Politicians and technocrats are always deepening the afflictions of the citizens.
Always on the television debating aimlessly on unreasonable subjects.
They keenly rant to impress…with the idea to mislead the minds of the poor natives.
And it seems all hope is totally lost.
They ask us to trust them with our thumbs for development,
But we find them nowhere after they’ve won the polls.
“A dreadful story of disappointment and agony”,
Religion and politics are wiping out loyalty and self-actualizations.
In fact, theocracy is diminishing the peace and comfort of the land,
Instead of empowering the populace to understand reality.
The condition we living in,
Education is held preciously as a mandatory factor to individual establishment,
But at the end of the tunnel, the supposed light to be seen is replaced by darkness.
Lack of employment and resources will then serve its victims with frustrations.
The available jobs ranging in every sector too is always on sale,
And it even lacks a vital assurance.
This is the phase where dreams are shattered,
I mean this is where good people are nurtured into bad ones.
The stage that inseparably feralizes the youth, propagate insubordinations and desperations.
Speculatively, this is where the concentration is aligned towards personal interests and gains.
People begin to trade their integrity with all manner of disgust (prostitution, cyber fraud, human trafficking, theft and what have you).
Life in Gold Coast,
Indeed, this is the condition we living in.
4/14/17
Across the ages
There was many changes
During the beginning, middle and end of phases
Above and below any stages
Some left to be found, written upon pages
Leaving a lot or little to if any traces
Among any places
Considered tiny or spacious
Regardless of their being nearby basins
There is nothing funny about starvation
Nor the greed of certain corporations
Makes me have more rage than Jason
With a hockey mask, causing mayhem
Current situations
May have involved more complications
Close and far from any vegetation
Currency came in different faces
Among many nations
Or federations
Above and below the basement
Near and far from any pavement
People making and taking payments
Due to desperations
Some continually gave into temptations
Had hesitations
And made zero preparations
Meanwhile others reached the intended destination
Achieving a state of elevation
After much determination and hard work, followed a possible celebration
Or revelation
With concentration
Have some motivation
From within find more inspiration
While making adaptations
Throughout trials and tribulations
Many civilizations
You can see in person, or only through illustrations
Certain locations
Full of radiation
And/or known to have a dangerous reputation
Still yet to be proven with a solid explanation
Continual paranormal investigations
Regarding anything, accurate portrayals or misrepresentations
Unknown or famous
It was or wasn't caught on surveillance
Crystal clear picture quality or blurry with some grayness
Rituals conducted on certain occasions
Some of which involve shamans
Meanwhile apprentice or master, blacksmith and masons
May be wearing protective aprons
Working on something considered complex or fairly basic
Near and beyond any waters with or without crustaceans
By: Dalton Ogletree
Super or superior
Sexy little me, with a unique smile
Magic and powers of life, to keep a dread from death?
Liberty for a quiet question from a star, are you the regret of shines?
Spill it, silly, the world to earn a raging swallow of honor, has a clue
Glue or oil, the future holds you in contempt
The towers of your ideology, an eye for a shallow world, has another name to the sky blue
Merit to collect misogyny, content to know your frozen soul, in the name of sin?
Honey, can we ever become the next of kindness of another place, another time, another youth?
Divine my song for eternity, hatred, a stronger sight comes with a simple tongue and a sneeze
Love me a little more, the voice we seek is God, a huntsman of creation with a moment for couth
Might, and even avidity to mystify, the tongue of the wish I seek is yours with my suicides lead?
Days come, days gone
And a fickle sense of silence, alive in my eyes only as long as we stir the raving shrewdness of us
Dare me my fool, the birth of winds to come, is nothing but a dream of you and me, to survive our song
Let me a perfect city of Gods truth, and a language of shadows become a brooking sense of dust's...
Best smiles forward, and awakening with a real sunshine to remember a season of darkness
Only death could ever steal a hunger from a babe, with no remark of heaven, but a tear
Die you bloody hell of blessing a slyness, ulterior motive, is an element of understanding a kiss
Many more like us, and without you to correct a paradise for anything but a worldly rage of my fear?
Like that, and the fruit of history to come in a violent none, time has a new voice...
Vivid, and for me, visiting a shade of wills, the tooth we seek is our swallow of sex, not snide
Blow my mind sadism, the bullet I took is nothing but a slyer curse in the good nature of a house
Save me, savior of desperations hands, mercy comes to those who blame the shame of a lie's flight...