Long Encourage Poems
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I was looking over my stuff here, and itseems I've lost the talents I once knew here.
I write ancedotes for my column. I do journalism- always some deadline or project that I work well under the pressure of it all.
Writing is what I truly love!
There is just so many varied types I do, my poetry is suffering.
I enjoy reading the great writers here.
Sometimes I do not comment or remark because it is art and I'm at a loss of words.
It's just been enlightening to live such a full life, and to be right here, right now amazes me. I'm searching for some old therapeutic writes. I was on alot of medications at one time.
A victim of spousal abuse.
I came back up North severly medicated, drolling and my family would whisper, she'll never be right again.
Post Tramatic Stress Disorder aint no joke.
To be me, knowing what I do, and how very long it took me to recover...
When some never do.
Many men were nice to me along the way, poetrysoup has the best men in the world, they will embrace your differences, and encourage you to keep your chin up, and keep your pen flowing.
Vince I love you! Frank, you are the best friend that a girl to ever have! You've sent me so many books of stamps to write you back and also send you the latest edition of the magazine I am featured in monthly. Everyone has those times in their life, when nothing goes right. How you knew without me saying a thing.
Are you alright? a concerned letter in the mail when I was having it rough- and the presents that made me cry. It may have been a framed poem, but it meant the world to me, and still does.
And lastly John,
Why oh why did I pick the most just man to give the hardest time to?
He has put up with so much from me over the years. I love him with everything in me. If not for being a true servant of God where would I be without him.
I remember 5 or six years ago, and his lady, whats your problem?!
Well John, you are the very sweetest man I've ever known in my life... without you I would still be cold to the Lord. So many years and mile stones along the way. I can leave here, but just like the sands of Florida, you'll always see me back.
Thank You All, for reading me, but more - to support the struggling writers that fall between the cracks in society.
I love you Frank. I love you John. Don't ask which one more, because John is single and Frank is not hehehehe
Form:
Though I'll remember nature's wonders,
sunsets and the breath of spring,
feel the wind blow through my hair
and know the thrill of sunrise cresting.
We see the universe as dancing,
two such different creatures trancing,
we two will never understand
the private notions of the other,
even if we take each other's hand.
Coming close to your destruction
you will see the other side,
who says who has satisfied
requirements for a better life?
Friendship, if we could but find it,
yields the seeds of greater profit,
greater than the seeds of strife.
I now remain just as I ever was.
I shall take my morning walk,
communing with the birds and talking
to myself while reading Kafka,
glancing at the latest headlines.
Dear Stravinsky's 'Rite' is slighted,
(he'll return when ears are righted.)
When I smell a rose I'm prompted
to recall a certain lady, gifted with
a new perception, I must sadly
take exception, for the moment anyway.
The chill of morning, people yawning,
I am tired, the blush of dawning has me
feeling ill at ease, my spirit sags,
I barely reach the second floor.
'When will you return? Is Paris so much more
than you have here?' is my unanswered question.
I drag my heels to breakfast,
listless as a lazy dog, and nibble toast,
my countenance as pallid as a ghost.
A letter would be welcomed.
I shall miss you; there, I've said it.
I am your friend, are you not mine?
Tenuous and strained, two casual
acquaintances who share so little time,
we brush elbows, like strangers passing
on a platform, sharing sidelong glances,
afraid to say hello. I watch you as you go.
Others swore we would be close,
peas in a pod, familiar.
Instead there is no warmth, not yet.
Were you to try we might combine
and nibble toast together, and take
a walk, your hand in mine, and
stammer conversation 'til we knew
there was no reason e'er to rue.
I shall sit with pleasant thoughts of you.
Desperate, I ponder on your death,
scant breath expended twixt the two of us,
and loneliness an ache too harsh to mention,
pen in hand and no one to subscribe.
I'll scarce recall the softness of your skin,
or search your heart to find what lies within.
Should I be bold, or take a gentler path?
encourage you... would I incur your wrath?
If you were to die I'd never know your truth,
and I should lose the vigour of my youth.
"ENCOURAGE"
YES, I CAN...
THE FEELINGS IN HEART, THE THOUGHTS IN MIND,
MAKE ME LOW AND DULL EVERY TIME.
FOR YEARS I HAVE BEEN TRYING,
I HAVE BEEN CONSOLING MYSELF
I HOPE FOR THE BEST...
EVERY TIME I TRY,I DO THE BEST I CAN,
I TAKE A CHANCE,I THINK I CAN WIN...
BUT,I MEET WITH FAILURE AT EVERY STEP,
I REALIZE, I HAVE TO STILL TRY AND DREAM
I HAVE TO HOPE...
THE HEART CRIES ON FAILING EVERY TIME,
THE MIND GETS BLOCKED WITH WEIRD THOUGHTS,
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT TO DO
I DO NOT KNOW WHERE TO GO...
EVERYTHING SEEMS NULL AND DARK,
THERE SEEMS NO WAY TO MOVE ON
THERE'S NO PATH TO FOLLOW.
WITH A HEAVY HEART AND A NUMB MIND,
I LIVE,I SURVIVE
I KNOW THERE'S NO ONE FOR ME,
THERE'S NO ONE TO CHEER ME UP...
I KNOW, FOR ME,ONLY I AM THERE,
I KNOW ,NO ONE WILL UNDERSTAND, WHAT I GO THROUGH,
I DO NOT EXPRESS MY FEELINGS AND SORROWS,
I DO NOT SHOW MY THOUGHTS...
THERE IS NO ONE TO HELP ME,
I HAVE TO HELP MYSELF, ALONE
I NEED TO ENCOURAGE MYSELF
I DO THAT EVERY TIME...
I MAKE MYSELF FEEL BETTER,
I HELP MYSELF TO DREAM AGAIN,
I HELP MYSELF TO HOPE ONCE MORE,
UNTIL, AGAIN I LOSE AND FAIL...
LIFE IS A BATTLE,
NOTHING IS SIMPLE AND STRAIGHT,
LUCKY ARE THOSE WHO WIN,
UNFORTUNATE ARE THOSE,WHO STRUGGLE AND WAIT...
I AM THE ONE,WITH THE ILL FATE,
I HAVE ONLY TEARS, FOR ME
SORROWS ARE MY FRIENDS,
THAT'S THE GIFT OF LIFE...
BUT,I STILL ENCOURAGE MYSELF,
I STILL HOPE,I CAN ACHIEVE,
I CAN DO AND TRY...
WITH EVERY ODDS,I HAVE TO TRY,
I HAVE TO STAND,I HAVE TO HOPE,
ONCE AGAIN,I HAVE TO MOVE...
I NEED THE STRENGTH, I NEED THE COURAGE,
I KNOW,I AM THE ONE ,WHO HAS TO ENCOURAGE...
AFTER A SERIES OF FAILURES IN LIFE,
AGAIN I HAVE TO STAND AND SMILE
I HAVE TO ENCOURAGE...
I HAVE TO BE CONFIDENT
TO DO MY BEST, TO TRY MY LUCK,
I HAVE TO DREAM, I HAVE TO WORK
MYSELF,...I DO, ENCOURAGE...
ALL I NEED TO EXIST,
ALL I NEED TO BELIEVE,
ALL I NEED TO BE BETTER...
IS TO, ALWAYS ENCOURAGE...
I HAVE TO SMILE,I HAVE TO DREAM,
TILL THE SKY IS THERE,
TILL THE FLOWERS BLOOM,
TILL THE STARS SHINE,
TILL THE WATER FLOWS..
I HAVE TO TRY,I HAVE TO BE PATIENT,
I HAVE TO THINK, YES,I CAN...
I HAVE TO BELIEVE EVER AGAIN
AND ONCE AGAIN...,JUST ENCOURAGE...
Contest Name: Encourage Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Date: 31.01.2022
it's not over until it's over until God has His say
and it's not what it looks like until God has His way
when you look at a Pastor of anyone who's in service to the Lord God
you have no idea what they've gone through nor the things that weigh on their hearts
for it's not easy to be a true disciple and teacher of the Holy Word
it's not a walk in the park no matter what you have heard
King David was a true disciple, an anointed gift from God
he was a special type of man who possessed a contrite heart
he was given the huge responsibility of leadership over a nation
the people demanded much from him and had high expectations
a catastrophe occurred one day when all the women and children were taken
David's men were so grievously upset that they were physically shaken
they then became angry and bitter over what had gone down
they held David responsible and wanted to stone him into the ground
yet David himself lost two wives and he was also dismayed and discouraged
but as a true disciple of Christ he knew in God to be encouraged
David had a true calling, he was aware of his divine mission
he was appointed by the Lord God to take on the Great Commission
for whenever God has called on you
there's not much that you can do
for you can't run and you can't hide from what of you God desires
and He'll equip you for the task by giving you all you'll need and require
and be you a Pastor, a disciple or a deacon and you feel you're at the end of your rope
encourage yourself in the promises of God and hold on to its hope
life may sometimes beat you up and knock you all about
but it's not over until it's over until God calls the final out
encourage yourself in the Lord and embrace His authority
you might be down to your last strike and He'll give you the victory
and even if the final bell has rung
it ain't over until God says its done
and even when you're down to your last shot
it ain't over until God says it's not
and even if it's fourth and long yet you can see the goal
trust in God to make the completion for He's in total control
it's not over until it's over not even when the fat lady starts to sing
as the Lord Our God has the last word when it comes to everything
the buzzer might have sounded, the clock has run out and you're down to the final play
but it's not over until it's over as long as God has something to say
My life as a Kitten
I perk up an ear as always when I hear the car start
I run and hop as fast as I can, looking like a hare
Not able to contain myself, I rush outside the pet door into the field like a dart
Never forgetting one second, in the beautiful field, to enjoy the fresh air
I run and hop as fast as I can, looking like a hare
But today I stop midway, ‘what is that I spy?’
Never forgetting one second, in the beautiful field, to enjoy the fresh air
Far in the distance I see things fly
But today I stop midway, ‘what is that I spy?’
As I crawl closer I purr and they slowly land on my soft golden fur
Far in the distance I see things fly
I look out into the field and my grayish bluish eyes begin to blur
As I crawl closer I purr and they slowly land on my soft golden fur
I recall the day I opened my eyes for the first time and I swore
I look out into the field and my grayish bluish eyes begin to blur
Mom always thought I was so brave especially being the youngest of the litter
I recall the day I opened my eyes for the first time and I swore
I couldn’t believe all the beauty and fun I have been missing
Mom always thought I was so brave especially being the youngest of the litter
I always find myself reminiscing
I couldn’t believe all the beauty and fun I have been missing
Ever since then my blue butterfly friends and I would be so hardcore
I always find myself reminiscing
Sometimes I even would try to roar
Ever since then my blue butterfly friends and I would be so hardcore
That’s why my adopted family named me Courage
Sometimes I even would try to roar
My blue friends think it so funny since all I can, is meow and continue to encourage
That’s why my adopted family named me Courage
Then it starts raining, I hate getting wet, so my friends guide me back home through the pour
My blue friends think it so funny since all I can, is meow and continue to encourage Before letting them go, playfully with my front paws I try and catch at least four
Then it starts raining, I hate getting wet, so my friends guide me back home through the pour
Not able to contain myself, I rush outside the pet door into the field like a dart
Before letting them go, playfully with my front paws I try and catch at least four
I perk up an ear as always when I hear the car start
.
A whale in a pail is far more active in a gale or in copious amounts of hail. Putting money into sharks is a shifty act involving the shuffling of coats in cloakrooms. And clown costumes placed in the bowls of women's frames are reserved for the elite attire of lemmon lipped bowler heads whose acidic tongue holds the weaponry speeches of tomorrows gore. Pain is a painted potato placed with the pilots to place on a place numbered out and planned on maps arriving by facetious fax machines whose many layered buttons seek to halt a single growing grass level with a shard spoken key. Turning a keyboard to an angle one can visit the highest climate but coinage is best reserved for a large bull with a blue tie. Behind many layers. Many layers is not many lettuces it is merely many lanes. And lanes are lovely on a summer evening returning from the abbey to the house in eighteen fifty-three in long beautiful blue dress with fancy earrings and hair wound in a tight bun. Looking around it is unsurprising that history repeats in the timeless whorl akin to stirring an acre pan of stew or making sandwiches for two hundred people at a picnic. Societal swamps seek some swanky shuffle starting storms. And all the while the little pixies dance in the trees. The unicorns prance, the fairies fly round and round, and all other realmes folk sigh at the endless processions of humans making endless chain of woe. Cause no pattern to rise up from a paper print. For if you do your whole world and house will be prints causing visitors to arrive in many windows to create a karmic reaction and a reaction is a realism and a responsive reach but not a retch. Little frog hums in the kitchen cupboard. He is very bored today and would like to go visit the pond but the machinery placed there ensures it is not safe to hop and when hopping it often is the case that shots are fired from the artillery of the ant people in plastic helmets. They move akin to a swarm of kettledrums on a backlit of carbonised baking trays. Powder that then. Beetroot faced woman in that raspberry printed dress. And to encourage the wrath of a walnut is to embellish a multicolumn of static electricity. Wow. Mish mash mush then. Hahahaha the dancing in the bathroom door hahaha mixed-use mixers mingling mangy mincemeat. Xxxxxxx prese tart structure Paden tar xxxxxxx invertebrates z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z THAT;
Form:
Today’s the day they bury the woman who birthed me.
Not my mother.
There is no sadness in my thoughts.
No tugging at the heart.
The tender bond between a mother and daughter we did not share.
She was merely a woman in the world of billions who chose life over abortion only to give me torment and agony during the life we breathed in air together.
I will not miss her. I will not cry over her. I will not give credit to her.
This woman never loved me. Never consoled me. Never gave me the warm hugs a little girl needs to have. Never kissed my forehead in loving affection. Or told me I was beautiful inside and out.
She never encouraged my dreams, my goals, my aspirations.
She never instilled confidence that every little girl needs to survive in this cruel world.
She never taught me the essentials of being a woman as I emerged into one.
She never said, “I love you” gently into my ears.
She didn’t protect me from the devil, who night after night, raped and tortured me.
I was the enemy. The one who invaded her sacred vow to my father. The other woman I will always be. Not the daughter she was blessed with.
I clawed my way out of the hole she so viciously threw me down in. I let go of the victim and embraced the survivor.
She can never hurt me again. Never pour salt in the wound. Never hurt my daughter as she wounded me.
Somehow I was given the grace to shower my daughter with love and affection. I pour my love all over her. I console her when she is sad. I embrace her with hugs. I kiss her forehead with loving affection. I tell her how brilliant and beautiful she is inside and out.
I encourage her dreams and goals in life and push her towards her aspirations.
I have made sure she has confidence that will get her through challenges in her life.
I have taught her how blessed she is to be the young, emerging woman she is becoming. I have taught her to embrace her body, her mind, her soul.
I tell her every day how much I love and adore her and how much I am blessed she is mine to keep.
I protect her. But also allow her to fall so she can learn to pick herself up.
I let her know she is my everything and my life with her is an adventure.
I am blessed beyond all treasures.
I am nothing like the woman who birthed me. We only share DNA.
I will forever be a motherless daughter. But I will not be a daughterless mother.
Form:
we have a sense of urgency about time that tends to spurs us on
yet we are too afraid to go from familiar to unfamiliar horizons
we need to make positive use of whatever time that remains
to making 2008 great there are 5 steps we should ascertain
but how we use our time is not just up to us
for our time on earth is a gift from the God we all love and trust
yet time is so important and we need to understand
that time waits for no one so go forth with your plans
to make 2008 great these are the 5 steps you should follow
to making 2008 great start on them beginning tomorrow
step one is of servant hood, to be submissive to God's plans
to deny yourself, take up the cross and heed His commands
yet man's innate desire is always to be the center of attention
you need to be like the woman with the alabaster jar
whose name in the Scriptures is never even mentioned
step two is to use the talent and gift that God has specifically given you
to realize and utilize that special gift that makes you you
it matters not the talent nor the gift that you have received
it was an anointing from God so just go out and with it achieve
to empower, to encourage and to enrich God's glory
use your gift and talent and contribute to His story
step three is to use your failures as points towards growth and not surrender
learn from your mistakes and don't allow disappointments to hinder
the only thing that one learns from success is that it can be done
but failures are the things that will spur you to carry on until the battle is won
step four is make connections with others beyond your comfort zone
to reach out to the unfamiliar and realize you're not in this all alone
there are people in this world whom you'll perceive as being unlikely to help
but the Lord God may do the unexpected in order to help you help yourself
He'll put people in your path who you'll think you can't possibly need
but God's wisdom goes beyond human understanding
and He knows what you need to succeed
step five is simply to give thanks to the Lord our God
celebrate, commemorate and appreciate Him with a joyful heart
praise Him, bless Him, honor Him and give Him all the glory
thank Him for everything you have and for His continuous story
these are the 5 steps in life that we all need to take
in order to make the time we have left and the year 2008 great
Once upon a time,
In a secluded, distant kingdom,
There lived a beautiful princess
Who spent her days carefree,
If not slightly impassive,
Exploring the palace gardens and
Dancing nimbly around the courtyards,
More often than not accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting,
The youngest of which had become
Her best and most trustworthy friend over the years, and whom,
Unbeknown to the princess,
Suspected she had fallen in love with her.
The princess's sixteenth birthday came, and there was
Great rejoicing throughout the land.
The princess and her best friend
Found it all rather amusing and tiresome when
The King declared that it was time
His daughter was married.
The princess took little interest in the
Many suitors who came to try and
Win her heart, though when she
Consulted her friend,
The lowly lady-in-waiting,
She was always sure to remark on
Which man seemed the kindest,
Who was the funniest, and
Which would provide her with stability and care.
Though, of course,
She privately dismissed them all.
So the years went past,
The princess grew more beautiful each day,
Beginning to make an effort to impress
The neverending stream of suitors,
Whilst her lady-in-waiting,
Silently saddened and horrified by her own desire,
Continued to enourage, comfort and love the princess
As the suitors came and went.
The princess laughed and kissed her friend, saying
No man could ever mean as much to her as she.
Then one day, a prince arrived at the palace,
One unlike any the princess had met before,
He smiled at her and she
Never sighed or turned away,
But merely smiled back.
The lady-in-waiting watched them
Explore the kingdom astride a white horse,
Dance delightedly together in the moonlight,
And she saw the prince
Encourage, comfort and love the princess,
And she blinked away her grief.
Soon wedding bells rang throughout the land
As the prince and princess held hands and
Spoke their vows,
The lady-in-waiting stood near the
Back of the congregation,
Smile frozen on her face.
She had no horse, of course,
She could not waltz,
She was a lady-in-waiting; a servant,
And the princess always marries the prince
And they live happily ever after.
There are no fairytales for fools like her,
And she is left waiting, wanting, wasting,
Without a hope of happiness,
And that's how the story ends.
One December Night
(Continuation to the End)
All that year Santa had hoped and had tried to find a child's love that would strongly abide.
But month after month he was given the boot. It didn't matter whether he showed magic or
gave them some loot. Many children were selfish. Not one gave a hoot.
Until one cold blizzard night, in a stormy plight, the frog rang the doorbell and walked
right on in. In the warmth of the house, after ousting the mouse, four children accepted the
frog for his good. It was a happy sight for the frog there that night. Yes, they showed him
great kindness and genuine love, the
spirit of Christmas shown down from above. The purest of love without expectations turned
the frog into Santa who promptly gave each one hugs. “I'll be back with my sleigh to leave
gifts on Christmas night. Thank you dear children for your gifts of love tonight. Leave me
some cookies. I shall eat no more bugs! He laughed as he juggled three gifts in the air.
Then, soon disappeared out of sight by the moonlight.
The children, still laughing and squealing with joy, had broken a spell put on Santa
last spring. And the mean old witch that had made him a frog, sat sadly outside all alone on
the log. She had made him a frog with a croak, out of tune. She wanted his voice instead of
her own. Christmas carols she had heard bring so much joy. She could not carry a tune for
one single song. She had hoped she could sing if she stole Santa's voice. But the love from
the children left her no choice. The spell had been broken by love's sweetest choice.
But while they were happily playing about, they noticed the wand from the brown bag lay
out. So they went to the witch and gave her a voice. And taught her that goodness over bad
is a choice. So together they played with the now happy witch. Who gave up her evil and to
goodness did switch. The gift of pure love and light in the world is a gift to all who give
heaven a whirl. For even the wickedest of wicked have some goodness in them. So,
encourage the right and to evil say, “Take a flight!” (And let God be the judge…)
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009
Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes!
Sponsored by: Constance La France (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)