Long Disowns Poems
Long Disowns Poems. Below are the most popular long Disowns by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disowns poems by poem length and keyword.
shoes untied,
hair uncombed,
just a run away,
no way to belong;
walking the streets so all alone
tattered clothes, ransack home;
eating out of the trash cans day N night
no way to belong
Homeless
has a cold twenty-four with a runny nose
this is his father unemployed
mothers on the corner everyone disowns her
been a parent since she was 12 ???
no place to go
no one goes by her
right she's 25 !!!
He poses sitting on old card board boxes
while the alcohol mom trips and falls off of porches, door she's been knocking on
watching the people go by in buses
Hope less
He's homeless, but He's Got JESUS
She's homeless, but She's Got the Lord
He's homeless, but They Got JESUS
Although they're a mess, they our blessed
Cause they have GOD
Not fit to live but fit to give;
You go by him and ya hearing him talking to him self;
murmuring passages sounding like scriptures to me;
while she's pan handling
you see
Their homeless, but She's Got JESUS
He's homeless, but He's Got, He's Got the Lord;
Although they're a mess, they our blessed
Cause thank God almighty
They have GOD
Oh why or why is he so happy
why or why, why is she so glad
just a thought of suicide, depression, would make the average person mad. . .
Why are they so happy
Why are they so glad
No family, none that would admit to be
NO job no wants to employ them
Not even a place to stay shelter's keeps him (them) hid
tattered clothes undeserved
tooth's N D K (decay) underserved
why is he(they) so happy why do He (they sing and shout (a loud)
Where does the joy come from
seems like they're the only ones;
They HAVE GOD
no longer
Homeless
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
from "Something to Sing Praises:(c)2007
July 03 2007
shoes untied, hair uncombed
waling the streets so all alone
tatted clothes ransack house
eating out trash cans day N night
OH NO! HE'S NOT ASHAMED
NO ONE IS TO BLAME JUST. . . HE'S JUST
HOMELESS
has a cold, twenty-four with a runny nose
stands on a corner everyone disowns ya
no place to go, no one goes by him
he poses sitting on old cardboard boxes
watching the people go by in buses
HE IS HOMELESS
BUT HE HAS GOT JESUS
HOMELESS
AND ALTHOUGH HE IS A MESS HE IS STILL BLESS, HE IS JUST
HOMELESS
OH NO! HE'S NOT ASHAMED
NO ONE IS TO BLAME JUST. . . HE'S JUST
HOMELESS
not fit to live but fit to give
you go by him and ya hearing
you hear him talkin to himself
murmuring passages sounds like scriptures to me
and why oh, why is he so happy
and why oh, why is he so happy
Lord God why or why is he so happy
(HUSH......................there is a pause in this song a stillness
wait for it
wait
résumé???)
HOMELESS
not fit to live but fit to give
you go by him and ya hearing
you hear him talkin to himself
murmuring passages sounds like scriptures to me
and why oh, why is he so happy
and why oh, why is he so happy
Lord God why or why is he so happy
no! family none than admit to be his
no job no wants to employ him Well!!
not even a place to say shelter's keeps him hid or telling he they're full
tattered clothes undeserved
tooth's in decay why is he so happy pains everywhere
why does he sing and shout (a loud)
why where does his joy come from
HE IS HOMELESS
BUT HE HAS GOT JESUS
HOMELESS
AND ALTHOUGH HE IS A MESS HE IS STILL BLESS, HE IS JUST
HOMELESS
OH NO! HE'S NOT ASHAMED
NO ONE IS TO BLAME JUST. . . HE'S JUST
HOMELESS
HE HAS God's grace and this is sufficient for him
Written Words by James Edward Lee Sr. & The Corinthian
Arranged music by The Corinthian
July 3 2007(c)
From Anthology "Something To Sing Praises"2007(c)
The urge to travel,
to spread your wings and fly away,
never rooted to one spot.
never spotted on a route.
signpost now defunct,
map a feeble pointer,
direction only by one’s nose.
Intuition in ascendence,
as day and night blur anaemic edges.
Fleet of foot dream chaser,
never-ending sequence,
is chaotically just that.
Event foreman cast,
in a starry-eyed plot,
script writer of their own unique journey,
stagecoach vagrant from,
a who-knows-where platform,
speed bump skipper on a blind course,
taking the "lie" of the land.
In every sense a false scents,
trailblazer has a life of their own,
but tragically a life that both owns,
and disowns them in "equal" measure.
Time-lapse photographer flagged,
by ephemera but doesn't notice,
loop by loop square off,
under amber moonlight passage.
faraway green seeker,
bereft of halting site,
with no stop off in between,
momentum the only resting place
Journey Journal
NEW YEAR’ EVE 2024
By Leon Enriquez
The olde year dies
With a dreary sigh
Oozing away lost highs
Just one more day
Down the fading lines
A bygone dark relay
Of worn-out fears thus define
~~~~~~~~~
Guilt and regret
Confront olde time frets
Not ready for sunset
Here we resolve
To be better yet
Still not able to solve
Or to win back our lost bets
~~~~~~~~~
Visualise more
To cluster galore
More to spice lacking stores
Sit with blank cares
See the last light fall
Spread sensuous silly stares
Can thought transmute sweet from gall?
~~~~~~~~~
Still the olde year
Disowns all our fears
Hurt feelings hug new cheer
So pain elopes
As cynic draws near
Grim olde hurts that still grope
As empty feel draws tightrope
~~~~~~~~~
Here in a gist
A few thoughts enlist
Resolutions we list
To be better
As the new year finds
Strange ideas that matter
Moves of soul, heart, body-mind
~~~~~~~~~
New Year’s Eve sums
Death of olde outcomes
As lost footfalls flee hump
We resolve thus
To greet strong head winds
To rise from forlorn dust
To bargain for more between
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
31 December 2024
Singapore
Face framed ornate, or curl corner blu tacked up
Childhood fanciful daring must softly be contained
Dispicable hovers inside cherub cheeked adorable
Challenge for enamoured to create correct shape
Administer discipline with compassion entangled
Potential beckons infant innately curious
Toddler discovery meshed with messiness
Woven with wonderment routine can't limit
Succumbed mother disowns justifiable furious
Besotted witness, sure estate for mischief
Nudging daughters towards beings approved
Beyond old rigidity, modern option multiples
Youth spoken forums we're foreigners to
Images of genuine and fake indiscernible
Listened to lunacy delivers messages askew
Duty to daughters reflect our similarity
Penciled declarations stuck to fridge
Devotedness focussed on child precious
Inflated effort, parents' universal currency
Whether meagre expenditure, or excess
Snippets of your prosper are written in me
Lawyer loads clothes into washing machine
Submerged both classes in a world severe
Puppets of striving in fast passed society
Consumer boom boldly commandeered
Disparity reveals parental symmetry amazing
Faithfully accommodating girls' shifting needs
Working mothers, each of us 'unaccompanied'
Various sized resources serve child raising
Sacrifice made by dedicated souls equally
Providing guidance, friendship gripes quieten
Line of latitude curved by desire to control
Old school wisdom bolsters brains susceptible
Dramatised screen infused new century children
Content quickly spirals into unacceptable
Desperately hoping, we Mother soldiers
Shield children from future provocation
Hold fort, nest feathered dedication
Thrusted comfort, reluctant scolders
Admist mixed rails, reliable station
Within swayed pre teen trajectory
Sturdy parenting depots journey
Home stands firm from outside duress
Finances overshadowed by reliability
Partnered peers approve sole success
17th July 2020
I searched for you in the night's dimmest light
Found quiet loneliness stirring in the dark
The moon's passing covered by clouds in flight
As it slowly traveled its nightly arc
This companion listened but never heard
The words pouring from pained lips of sorrow
And questioned reasons became unassured
Still lost in the moon's light and tomorrow
And what help does darkness bring that surrounds?
When thunder rolls in distant skies alone
And hazy eyes stumble across the ground
In the dim scattered light the moon disowns
To have found you before your departure
And capture again the days in time's sand
We looked into the stone of love's sculpture
And found the tool marks of opposing hands
Could I have given better understanding
Could you have given love less demanding
On a secret journey she has long been
walking in the dark alley of her lonely life
losing the fragile sanctity to the flood of strife
drowns deep within the sucking cesspool of sin.
In the desolate depth of the darkest night
she searches for the sinking soul in torment
finds it sliced in the debris of shame to repent
pines to be free from the bonds of despised plight.
In surging storm blowing with pent up remorse
the strands of her mind swirl like the hair blown
hiding with her sordid hands the face she disowns
prays to God to show her drifted life’s virtuous course.
____________
August 9, 2020
For Brian Strand's Contest A Brian Strand July 16