Long Endeavor Poems

Long Endeavor Poems. Below are the most popular long Endeavor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Endeavor poems by poem length and keyword.


What Is Freedom

Tell me what does it mean to be free? 
I find myself not free but locked up in a creation that desires... creation! Freedom is not just to move beyond the walls of confinement. The walls of confinement are not just of mortar, brick, iron or wood. These walls that confine this creation are more than just walls of flesh. These walls are walls of idealism and ignorance. These walls are reinforced not by bone and marrow. But, these walls are reinforced by the unknown. For if it was known then the freedom of this creation would pass beyond the strings of entanglement and would fly to the greatest height and to the lowest depth. This creation would endeavor to dream and create. This creation would move freely from realm to realm and would be a part of the greatness that created it... 
The glass of images is just a mere reflection of creation. Images are reflected from the ice of hatred. Images are reflected from the heat of illusions. Images are created from pain, sorrow and defeat, and yet, images are created from victory. 
How the heart is smothered in the sorrow of defeat... Yet, the mind soars as if freedom is the energy that propels the heaviest soul. Tell me again, what is freedom? Adventure is the glow that shines from lucid eyes not hindered by life taught. 
Life taught? Walls are made from experience, from damage, from the hurt of another creation. A child. A new life. A beginning fresh and untouched by creation. Adventure seen through the eyes of a child... freedom from entanglement, freedom from illusion and images. 
The prison begins it's walls of confinement as each day becomes weeks and months. The walls become stronger and impenetrable as the years go by and turn quietly into decades. Hardening of the mortar brings a numbness that reaches beyond the tenderness of kindness. This hardening grows colder as the eyes no longer are lucid. There is no fear in this state of prison... Nothing can tear down these walls of confinement. Nothing! 
Yet a sparkle of remembrance goes unnoticed as a new life begins and thoughts of freedom start a crack in the walls of a hardened fortress. As a bubbling brook in spring cracks the ice of a cold winter, a heart begins once again to search for the freedom that will bring to life the adventure that no image of defeat or sorrow could ever again mire the soul...
Tell me... what is freedom?
Pernell Rodocker 8/19/13


Cowl Lix Aged Language Lover

please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create a lingual Loch Ness
(when hens canst come home to roost
   especially, encountering 
   the following conglomeration
   in matthew scott harris patois).

He readily admits writing inventive
   attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
   Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
   courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
   gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
   and certainly less
to impress.

Gnome hatter intent toward 
   cogency, fancy ingenuity,
   levity, the inevitable 
   resultant wrought gobbledygook
   fascination for Lingua Franca
   feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
   and splatters Asia Yukon guess.

Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
   sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
   finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
   swimmingly enervated 
   via erotic laced sentiments
   perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
   hollering, gesticulating floundering,
   (in close proximity to Davey Jones's locker)
   to avoid drowning at sea
   perchance comprehending passionate influence.

   Upon espying a signature poem of mine
   forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
   tib hush anonymous re:
   dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
   taking him/her to the brainy 
   (briny) deep brink
   Icon fess

this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
   aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
   alphabetic wanton soup,
   or figurative egg drop bub
   bling broth (el) doth brew)

   pronouns Sibyl affectation 
   affliction sans plethora,
   where each ladle full adrip with
   richly flavor Verdana Font lee
   and sincerely textured vocabulary.

   Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
   (blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
   suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
   particularly expectorating flashy 

   hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
   hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
   might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
   vis a vis plagiarize plethora 
  amidst storied plentiful English droppings.

Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
   temptation to bask exultantly,
   professed glorious unrequited love
   announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.
Form:

Karen Windle Roughly On Par

Karen Windle roughly on par...
with being a miniature poodle size dogsend

Apartment B44 one bedroom unit
at Highland Manor low income facility
housing older folks convenient starting point,
to launch poem and invite reader(s)
reason(s) without rhyme
why yours truly (me)
chose to express heartfelt gratitude
toward resident Karen Windle,
which named individual most likely unknown

across world wide web
(hmm... maybe methinks perchance
possibly ye did sound her out courtesy radar,
especially if thee dutiful patrol officer
generously handing out -
not necessarily) winning lottery tickets
within vicinity encompassing
University of Delaware.

We (myself and zee missus) inhabit
aforementioned single bedroom abode,
allows, enables and provides
convenient reference point
upon exiting our dime a dozen quarters
(housing near penniless occupants)
verily orient toward left of hallway,
no need to access global positioning satellite

leisurely amble short distance
just count three doors down on the left,
thee will espy name tag printed
small letters Karen Windle
her acquaintanceship we did kindle,
now greater value when measured with corn,
wheat, or other commodities
approximately equal to three bushels,
but varying in different regions.

Explanation whereby appreciation
toward Karen (spry firecracker, energetic, 
diminutive, albeit frail looking gal)
materialized when series of unfortunate events
rendered me and mine spouse
without ready immediate access to automobile
near necessity within quaint enclave
identified as Schwenksville, Pennsylvania

affords absolute zero public transit,
hence necessity for chauffeur de jure arose,
whereby availability to shuttle us
found monetary compensation declined,
thus stymied intent regarding how I could
communicate sincere thankfulness
relieved when she would accept

poetic endeavor incorporating
best college try (mine) to alleviate
imposition if/when opportunity exists
to scrape meager money
and expect to sink a fortune
maintaining, insuring, fueling vehicle,
significant portion of social security (disability)

allocated to sustain reliability of car
dollar figure greater than buzzfeeding
caretaking, duties linkedin to
mental, physical, and spiritual health
concerning this aging baby boomer,
plus his counterpart approximately
previous couple dozen years.

Upbeat, the Islander: Upbeat Comes To Terms

I'm a simple guy,
I like video games, music and succeeding without trying,
So when a man comes up to me and tell me he can save my life,
Who am I to turn down a free book from a generous passerby,
Strange how after hundreds of Reddit articles I find these red words the most astounding,
Each verse saturated with a truth beyond my understanding,
I embraced the scripture in my new-found belief,
Ditching skeptics and scientific contention for a biblical motif,
So with my newfangled faith I embarked on a holy endeavor,
To sift through a lifetime of personal uncertainty to uncover the answer,
I found myself under bottomless pizza boxes,
Buying time stocks from the evolutionary clock,
Discovering purpose through glimmering game discs,
Fashioning polygonal personalities into personable obelisks,
Uncovering the depths of my psyche excavating mountains of dirty laundry,
Rinse on, dry off, purging both physical filth and emotional quandaries,
Sharing walkways with speeding cars enslaved to a monetary duty I can't shirk
A journey of a thousand steps every pilgrimage to work,
My blood a bubbling brew of ambition and potential,
Yet required to surpass insurmountable credentials,
Ignoring the marked symbols in newspapers they seek to brand on my forehead,
Subjective opinions of civility and idealism dropped on me like warheads,
Cryptic predictions of personality and fate,
You think I need a dice roll to determine if I'm straight?
Countless evaluations to rationalize the psyche and soul combined,
What makes their opinion more viable than mine?
I'm taking buoyant steps upon the swamp to reach my destination,
Swapping carnality for divinity to achieve the ultimate self-preservation,
Cremating my mortality I seek to ascend,
Past primitive understanding of a purpose I cannot comprehend,
This road we walk is coated with trip-wire and paved with scorching coals,
Watch out for those flaming hours in your 5-day forecast so find the nearest foxhole,
The burden on our shoulders has already been lifted so there's no reason for us to be aching,
We're on the path to eternal salvation why aren't we skipping?
So why don't you tag along with me on this self-realization odyssey,
I can't promise explosions or tentacle-headed aliens but I know it'll at least be interesting,
Just you, yourself, me and I,
The most dynamic duo to ever breach the sky.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Billy and Bubba

When I was a lad in the 50s, there lived a man named Mr. Mac. He resided in a farming community in Northern Mississippi.  Two of his sons are the source of a story living in my heart.  It's a story of two brothers who may never grace the pages of a book. However, their memory is in my heart, and lest they are forgotten, I must tell you of them.

They would best be remembered for their ability to drive tractors and handle farm machinery. As in history, so presently, the grand old market economy remains in motion.  With few exceptions, whatever the market will bear is what will be paid.  Also, back then, labor laws never applied to the people I knew.  Billy and Bubba were very productive and knowledgable in their field of endeavor, but simply farmworkers.

But they were more than simply field hands and tractor drivers; more than merely brothers who worked hard and drank liquor. I'm certain some  remember the truth of their lifestyles.  But there was so much more to Billy and Bubba than cultivating fields and drinking liquor for cheap thrills; more than cotton planters in spring and harvesters in the fall.  If one simply saw them sitting on combines or drinking wine and whiskey to wash away their pains, then they never really saw them giving themselves so graciously to others.

The demons attempted to destroy, wreck, and ruin their lives, but they were blessed with a praying mother whose prayers never fell on deaf ears. In their valleys of drunkenness, when overwhelmed by their enemy, their troubled souls found no other source to cast away their pain and ease their sorrows.  Even so, the light of goodness managed to shine through. The devil's darkness never cast a shadow over their mother's prayers.
                                                                                                         
Somewhere between their home and the cotton fields; between dirt roads and cornfields; between tractors and liquor stores; between birth and burial; Billy and Bubba were gentlemen with caring hearts and kind spirits.  They were men who smiled without force and greeted with respect.  Tall and handsome men, mild, gentle, and harmless. If or when the history books of the 'B' brothers are opened, let it be said that there were two good brothers named Billy and Bubba.11012007PoSpCtest, Strand Select L, Brian Strand. 3P
Posted072817


Premium Member Mother, Forgive Us

Mother,
I used to walk in dark places and know that I was safe.
Because I knew that I loved you.

Mother,
I have abused my brothers and sisters.
I have contaminated your purity with murder.
I have raped your daughters.
I have kidnapped your children.
I have brought your blessed bosom to the brink of destruction.

And now, even when I walk in daylight I do not feel safe.
For now I am aware of what I have been to you.
Worse than a prodigal, I have endeavored to exploit the very mother who nurtures me.
And now that I have worsened whatever imbalance was in you before I arrived,
I endeavor to flee you like a coward through the grace of an oblivious savior.

Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of water.
I have dreamed a dream of living water.
And in this dream Jesus, my Savior, told me that he was not oblivious.
And in this dream Jesus told me that he was fully aware of my crimes against you.

Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of fire.
I have dreamed a dream of unquenchable fire.
And in this dream Jesus reminded me that I was sent here to heal you as you taught me of manhood.
And in this dream Jesus told me that if I could not love you, my mother, who I could see, then how could I love my Father in heaven who I could not.

Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of air.
I have dreamed a dream of whirlwinds.
And in this dream I breathed in the breath of forgiveness and I realized that it was not too late for us.

Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of earth.
And in this dream, Mother Earth, I see you and us together, fighting for our freedom.
Fighting against the delusion that our fates are not eternally intertwined.

Mother earth,
Please forgive us.
For true, we have betrayed you.
But it is not too late.

Mother,
I promise you that as sure as my savior is in heaven we are going to make it.

Mother,
I present myself to you as a living witness.
The Lord has not forsaken us.
For within our DNA is the secret to your healing and the end of our insanity.

Mother,
Thank you for loving and protecting me, even as I raped and wounded you.
And now it is my turn.

“In the name of Jesus, the earth and all of the earth’s inhabitants are one mind, heart, and body.  In the name of Jesus, we are one person, one planet, and one purpose.  In the name of Jesus, the lion will soon lay down with the lamb and this beautiful sound, this sound of the sacred Gaia will know harmony!!”

Premium Member Amazing One-Third Inning

Regardless of which field of endeavor you happen to be in, never say never, and never say, "It's over'' until it's over. I was in my garage during chores better known as this, that, and the other, but I don't remember what. 

Two outs, bottom of the 9th, and the home team was down one run.                                                                       Being announced by one of the greatest announcers in Major League                                                                                             Baseball, it was the first game of the 1988 World Series between two                                                                          California rivals, one representing Northern and the other Southern California.                                                                                                            

That 9th inning, especially the last at-bat, was being played as if it was                                                                a game to end all games and certainly among the greatest that I ever                                                witnessed, but I don't remember why I was listening to the game over         
the radio and not watching it on TV.

Anyway, the visiting team, most-favored to win the series, was ahead 4 to 3                                                                  with the best closer in ML Baseball. However, He was matched against one of                                                            the game's greatest clutch-hitters. Moreover, the home team had a great base stealer on first base which was critical to the game because the great clutcher, not in the lineup and not expecting to play, could barely walk, much less run, which meant that he had to hit a long ball for a single or hit a home run.                                                                                    

With the clutcher at-bat, the base runner stole second base which was a great boost, and it also meant that a long single would tie the game and take it into extra innings, or a home run would win the game for the home team which is what happened.  8 pitches were thrown at this at-bat: two strikes, three balls, three fowl balls; 2-run homer, and the home team won 5 to 4. I tell you, it was one amazing one-third inning.

040620PoSpCtest, Strand Pick 6, Brain Strand
Form: Narrative

Mine Conscience Exhorts Restitution Regarding Lost Wedding Band

Thru deliberate seductive
liaisons, ploys, and underhanded gambits,
I tendered illicit, explicit and complicit shenanigans
blatant actions to foment coital adulteration.

Ofttime these discrete liaisons found me removing 
linkedin metallic keepsake symbolizing union.

Years elapsed since this spouse pledged his troth,
he sported husbandly marital vows courtesy
monogrammed nondescript ring.

Impossible mission prevails to locate complimentary
jeweled tokens bespeaking our joint monogamous fidelity.

Yours truly beset with genuine disheartened woe
no matter public affections, he never doth show
thee above stated guilty admission signifying
mine absent overtures
(indicating even marginal wedded bliss),
the missus posits as wanting from me,
a common garden variety generic Joe Schmoe.

Self awareness heightened
within mental cogs and wheels
as if of a sudden hindsight brought
into sharp focus think barely audible
high pitched squeals
nsync with and accompanied by newsreel

silently displaying story
(solely my viewing pleasure) of mein kampf
metaphorically yours truly blown to bits
while hoisting myself by own petard
vigorously spiriting and
pitching me head over heels.

Regale thee dear reader,
I strive with utmost zeal
plus cathartic to expunge, (albeit poetically)
my pathetic, quixotic,
and reasonable rhyming spiel
hoopfully mine lame literary endeavor
won't upset any spur of the moment meal

thus tis wise I beat a hasty retreat
before ye sic on me Achilles heel
versatile scouts i.e. English language
verb boss and noun sensical police,
yours truly here expert escape artist
dog gone hard to grab hold,
cuz I trumpet art of making the deal.

Proclaiming high fidelity to wife high wed
she already with child (our first)
into holy matrimony we did nervously tread
"quod erat demonstrandum"- Q.E.D.

"what was to be shown" courtesy yours truly
this once upon a time
(about two and a half dozen
Earth orbitz ago) time newlywed.

Now he frets and experiences woebegone
as testimony scratching out
yet another one of his plaintive,
quirky, somber, ridiculously shown,
herewith I attempted to communicate none

previous endeavor ever considered exemplary
yet I diligently, honorably,
and literally try to hone
elusive talent hours daily
hermetically sealed, and sequestered alone.

Courtesy Viz Gnatty Thrip Pest

Courtesy viz (g)natty Thrip Pest...

This client (Matthew Scott)
availed himself at behest
of following counselor
who bares his chest
to Stephanie Dodds
(maid 'n USA name)

taught technique to minimize
ruffling feathers lest
the missus aggrieved
spending her nest
egg, thus self and missus

live destitute oppressed
as two basket of deplorables stressed
nearly every day envisioning
castles in air pipe dreams
when getting undressed

preparatory to dreams
within illusory shut eye
yours truly dons fancy vest
believe me you sold by Kanye West.

DEAR MAN skills
(feeble attempt more daunting
versus scaling Mount Everest)
embraced with zest
supported and blessedly underwritten
by loan granted from Univest

Bank ohm my dog to mitigate electric
resistance while no resistance
against kool psychological aid acid test,
whereby this husband espoused,
to help him recharge, (re:volt if necessary)...,
which endeavor now poetically expressed

concerning contentious gripe(s),
she would concur challenges we contest
beat within mine (possibly her) breast
unavoidable series of parallel events
disallows me to experience respite
as ye correctly guessed

impossible mission until
death do me part heavenly blessed,
meanwhile to maximize insight woke
involving DEAR MAN skills
with following example I attest
triggered food for thought

countless years gone by, no jest
which behavior even
eldest daughter did detest
specifically oft time ebt -
Electronic benefit transfer
i.e. food stamp money addressed

when wife spent lion's share
in one fell swoop, I did level best
to communicate while pride
hide hid ingest, wife acquiesced
yet without fail repeated offense
whereby mister diplomacy here

explained (with diminishing patience)
allocated funds sole comestible expense
then included four family members
issue got heated more emphatically
groused at my sidelined request
invariably spiking discourse

else... I threatened to divest
and stow card in wallet (mine),
yet invariably relinquished said item,
perhaps first will and testament bequest
if imposed, enforced, adhered...
would have nipped in bud

finding yours truly less obsessed,
nee furious every month
the vicious drama cycled
smoldering resentment did crest
into shouting tense match,
thus body electric lamely fleshed.

The Askance Chapter 1 Part 4

Courage

Beyond the still of the night
The unsettling air remains a breath of calm
From eyes enclose, welcoming the blinded sight
What more be life shall offer to come?

Time always travel unseen
Days simply vanishes away
Voices chanting, did I remember my illusive dream?
Or is my life a weightless feather, ready to sway?

No visions to visualize still
Dreams engifted perhaps, bears certain to be forgotten
Though much too close, much too surreal
I shall believe not to the extent to fathom

And I awaited for the night to pass
The deepest of isolation I can only surrender to
Out of love, out of loneliness I’m to outcast
This moment to miss her and to remain still a fool

Studying the figure in the mirror
I’m no doubt torn with an unfounded courage I lack
Should I be in riddance of this endeavor?
Must one recover and practice no longer the false pretentious act

Unnaturally, silence seems to whisper about
The room is more sinister and darker even
There is a soft chanting yet becomingly loud
And fear is all, accompanying this moment’s instant

{Blackness paints what once was before
I could see nothing yet blinded not to all
Those hungry eyes, bloodshot and dancing playfully
Them who chant the verses, strange but beautifully
They were the voices of children who sang among
Till almost deathening when came was then a complete calm
It was a mere moment, yet a moment was enough
Green and haunting, a pair of poison iris onto me he cast

And he spoke his voice I can only vividly remember
It was the voice from my dream that had kept me in bewilderment wonder
Just before I might strain to see the mystery beyond
The enigmatic encounter simply chooses to diminish along}

With the blacken fog cleared
I stand once more within my room
Entranced and crucified by fear
Am I ever to obtain tranquility all too soon?

It can only feel too evil
It wasn’t how tranquility can venture deep
Was it a calling perhaps from a befallen angel?
An angel to only the devil might seek

Disturbing and much too unbecoming
When struck me further was that the language I understand
Not only was it not just simply a dream
For what it said from its tongue, I knew what it meant

“Fear is a fire…
to temper courage and resolve
Be it desire
to quench the thirst for one’s unfounded lost”
………………………………………….
© Joel Lee  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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