Long Doubly Poems
Long Doubly Poems. Below are the most popular long Doubly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Doubly poems by poem length and keyword.
Before men did a tower build,
within their mind, the seed of pride
like a noxious weed in fields was sown.
To replace God was their sole aim
and establish for themselves a name.
This seed in Satan did abound.
He thought to take the place of God.
In him, iniquity was found,
so, God expelled him with his squad.
On Shinar’s plain men planned to build,
a tower reaching to the sky.
A symbol of man’s raised clenched fist,
against God who, he dared to despise.
Seeing that man’s heart was steadfast,
and his bent to sin was diecast,
God confounded mankind's language
and brought an end to his silly scheme.
When Nebu’s heart with pride was filled
a golden image he did build.
He set it up on Shinar’s plain,
a symbol of eternal reign.
With a pride-filled heart, his fate was sealed,
e’en while he did the scepter wield.
Then for seven years a maniac mild,
he dwelt with beasts out in the wild.
Man’s quest to take the place of God
has been both foolhardy and flawed.
His schemes to educate the mind
have produced men of the worse kind.
Today confusion still abounds,
as Wisdom is cast to the ground.
Misfortune follows like a hound,
humanity that seems hell-bound.
The Tower of Babel’s fateful plight
on human hubris shines God’s light.
Let all who God’s will dare assail
be doubly sure their schemes will fail.
Art asking apt
Loud leaping laps
Tasty time trap
Worthwhile words will
Touch timely thrill
Bright bounty bills
Plot plenty play
Succinct strange say
Dizzy dream day
Nurture nice noise
Charm crafty choice
Ply pretty poise
Dazzle deep drift
Seek simply swift
Cheer chancy cliff
Dare doubly dull
Sample shrewd skull
Mellow mind mulls
Waltz works worry
Hurl huge hurry
Set sane scurry
Meet mental mood
Finger free food
Grab grumbling good
Life lingers long
Savour sounds strong
Taste tricky throng
Each ending earns
Yes yielding yearn
Bright bearings burn
Taste toilsome tears
Free funny fears
Dream deeper dear
Oozing odd oomph
Zealous zest zooms
Big blossoms bloom
Veer vested vote
Time tickles tote
Nurture new notes
Leon Enriquez
21 September 2016
Singapore
Seventy years ago in Princeton, West Virginia on a cold December third night
an earthly angel was born unto us and her name was Audrey Wright
a blessed child of God, a devoted disciple of Christ
and we've gathered here this evening to celebrate her life
With her husband Joe she has had over forty years of wedded joy
David, Dominick and Bobby Jr. are their 3 handsome boys
a member of the Historic Berean Baptist Church for a score of years
a deacon, a playwright, a woman of substance whom we all love and hold so dear
a truly talented individual who has a funny and dramatic flair with the pen
she writes the type of plays that makes you renew your faith in God all over again
I consider myself doubly blessed to have her as a sister and friend in Christ
and to everyone she has ever met in someway she has touched their life
she had the nerve to inform me that she was seventy years young
but as I look upon her lovely face, she doesn't look a day over forty-one
excellence, eloquence and elegance are the traits she humbly conveys
and I'm extremely honored to write this tribute for her seventieth birthday
I love you and congratulations to you, my dear friend Audrey Wright
and may the Lord Our God continue to bless you and keep you always in His sight
Silently, you come into the room.
No one even notices you there.
I see you move to the unsensing groom.
Do you bring gifts, wine to cheer?
Suddenly, your presence is felt with eyes
Drinking you in with bewildering puzzlement.
Men in wonder turn with hidden guise.
Do you bring wishes, words of benefit?
Where do you come from? Were you invited?
Will you be welcomed here? Tell us your
story to evoke good will, or should we be ignited?
Do you bring tidings, or something more?
The groom turns to see you come close.
His expression lightens in recognition.
With quickened steps he stops nose-to-nose
enfolds you tightly, relieving the tension.
“Welcome brother!” he loudly cries out.
“You, the older brother, gone to serve.
Home for this joyous union!” I shout.
We greet you with respect you deserve!”
So the brothers set strong resolve
To revel in the doubly cherished juncture.
Four short hours too quick to dissolve
the bond, too powerful to puncture.
Now I’m just a simple fellow
And what I like the most
Is a dollop of brown sauce
Spread on me breakfast toast.
You can keep your marmalades
Jams and your various spreads
Just give me a bottle of HP sauce
Cos I’d rather have that instead
Not served in a plastic bottle cos
At times they can suddenly spurt
And before you really know it
You have sauce all over your shirt.
No, served from a glass bottle
It flows in a steady stream
That mixes with your hot butter
To provide a culinary dream.
You can keep your haute cuisine
Because what I enjoy the most
Is lashings of hot butter mixed with
The brown sauce on me toast
They looked at me in horror
Breakfasting at this posh caff
And one of them had cheek
To just stand there and laugh
And then to make doubly sure
Me and me habits weren’t seen
They went and put me table
Behind a large folding screen
I find it rather irksome that
The breakfast for which I lust
Is regarded by so many as a
Habit of loathsome disgust.
No, I’m just a simple fellow
And what I like the most
Is a dollop of brown sauce
Spread on me breakfast toast.
Bossy Lady
I am the way I seem...
As sweet as I can be
full of laughter and bubbly
my kindness is doubly.
So why am I alone.?
The reason may be the rules,
or my standards are to high
They mite not like the script I writ
Maybe that's the reason why .
Maybe they don't wanna
listen or do just what I told um
or do just like I showed um....
If they would a stayed
we could a had a good time.
I cook -clean and wash
and even bake lemon pies
but it seems that they
run away...
before we get to the good part.
All they had to do was listen ...
and don't give me no lip.
I had it all worked out....
All they had to do was ...
Stick to the SCRIPT.!!!!
End poem.
We attended our friends wedding
and as part of the mood they wanted to create
they were married in a chapel…built in 1888.
What made their wedding even more special to us was…
when they arranged it they didn’t know
it’s the same chapel Deborah and I were married in
37 years ago.
It was a different day…a different month
and for us…a different milestone…
a time when our children were still children…
now they have lives and families of their own.
But as I saw our friends walk down the aisle
and exchange vows…as happy as can be.
that moment 37 years ago
came flooding back to me.
I saw us in this very chapel
with or friends an family seated in these pews
young and happy 37 years ago..as if it was brand new.
And for a moment…even though I know
we’ve both grown old and gray…
in the beauty of my memory it seemed like yesterday.
So I was doubly happy seated in the chapel
as our two wedding combined…
Their wedding we were attending…
and my wedding…in my mind.
I was as happy for them as I was for Deborah and me
knowing we are all forever a part of this chapel’s history.
A history of when we came together
Joined our hands…our souls…our hearts
Under the roof of this old chapel…
37 years apart.
Compassionate Teachers
Left hemisphere's cognitive nature of mind
emulates Right hemisphere's inductive spirit
of creation
and destruction,
regeneration
and degeneration,
and all doubly-resonant tipping points
balancing analogous metaphors in-between.
For these disciples,
polypathic travelers,
perpetual emigrants into spirit
and immigrants from secularized
mundane
under-valued nature,
students of ecosystemic resilience,
Earth's yang nature is Master
and yin spirit is Mistress
with unflagging strength of an oak
and complex flowing grace
of a willow,
Both rooted
and further rooting
from original NonZero Sum seeds
of integrity's sacred potential
down,
And reaching
leafing
flowering
compassion climaxing
from ZeroSum DNA origins
up
Through heart and mind
and on down
round again to
and from
many regenerations of feet
for reproducing healthy DNA roots
of sacred Earth's rememory.
Faeries are so much more delicate than they used to be.
So lithe.
So light.
So lovely.
But they are also legally-wise now, and they will take you to litigation in a minute.
What?
Your brain stops suddenly, smiling.
Hush! You say. That is most certainly not how this poem should begin.
What were you thinking? You ask yourself.
The brain grins, not wanting to take the blame, all-knowing.
We re-start, my pen and I, disgruntled but ready this time.
Faeries are beautiful, brainy, bright-hearted and belligerent.
This traitorous word brings every new idea to a sudden disturbing halt.
You feel doubly irritated now.
Who borrowed your brain in the middle of the night?
Where do you go from here?
You glare at the paper, stomp off, and take a little nap, so you can begin again, refreshed.
Except you are too angry to sleep…
AMERICA, THE CENTER DID NOT HOLD
The center, woe the center
Are we surprised it did not hold
Not even in America
And if the truth be told
When the two twin towers toppled
We were stunned aggrieved and hurt
Long gone the days of minute men
No one to sound a swift alert
With eyes wide open still so blind
We failed to recognize
How much 'covid' would reek havoc
Right before our very eyes
Relentless in its progress
Devastating all it touched
No army couldn't stop it
Even if one bothered much
Still we dallied on so docile
Till an enemy within
Ripped and ravaged through the White house
Bent on murder and revenge
Men compliant and acceptant
Eyes fixed on money, power, fame
No thought for country, without conscious
Doubly dying, soil their name.
-Reta Pruitt
PS (There still are 'men with souls so dead')
-from 'THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY'