Long Enemy(a) Poems
Long Enemy(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Enemy(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enemy(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
With his Divine love God made us
True and eternal Divine love is
Heavenly love unites all the people
It brings all us together
It helps us love the environment
That is the power of Heavenly love
Empowering command has Divine love
Through gathering the people
To carefully listen to one another
Regardless who, what and where they are
To willingly decide as a team
And happily discuss joys and woes
Healing power Divine love bears
That never hurts the soul
For it forgives our trespassers
Sees an enemy a potential comrade
Makes us hate the offence
But still love the predator
True and everlasting is Divine love
For evil related wrongs
It bans but values all of us similarly
It triggers us to protect the ecosystem
For God created all of us
With Divine love
Poem by Mugisho N. Theophile
walled isolation
when a relationship hits hurdles
gripped by the unfamiliar
a stillness that caves in on us
our small spoonfuls of conversation lack direction
closed pod, defensive
my near muted pleas to break free of holding back
for nothing good brews in brooding
sucker punch of speculation
health shifting
the enemy, a diagnosis
to map variables, unknowable
our dreams having no scale
de-stabilized by no surety of self
we hide behind silence like a well placed curtain
balancing on slippery rock sickness
life altering
words perishable
numbing
a fall-to-pieces stillness
like a windowless white room that traps the urge
to breath
Poem composed: October 31, 2021
Without them i don't think we would function well as people
Adrenaline triggers emotional responses of something leathal
You start to feel that you've mastered the psychology of folks
Not giving an impulse to tricks and peoples jokes
This is what people live for and it makes them feel alive
It gives them power and self esteem that helps them to thrive
Have you notice this is needed when a doctor checks your knees
The positive ones you receive just by saying the word please
They give your enemy a clue as to which buttons to press
If you withhold them from people it leaves them to guess
Some people do things on purpose just to get this from you
I learned a personal lesson myself just from dealing with a few
Think about it next time before you give a reaction
All the power you give to others from your words and your actions
Masked and disguised, my first grade teacher, Miss Chark, kept her true identity under wraps one hundred and ninety-two days a year.
She liked sunlit naps, the smell of catnip, but most of all, to be left alone in front of a glowing snapping orange fire with a huge bowl of salmon.
What would the parents say if they learned the truth?
Less than three days before she appeared at the Board of Education office, she had mysteriously awoken from a Saturday night cat nap, and noticed that not only was her tail missing, but she had
turned into an enemy, a fur-less human!
Miss Chark could neither read nor write but no one knew that. She did not have a teaching license, but no one checked.
Luckily she knew English, even though she had never spoke it before, and she knew she needed money to buy herself food. We children loved her and taught her how to read.
Mr. Poindexter, Mrs. Chark's new pet cat has a serious moral dilemma. He has the heart of a young boy mouse, but the taste buds of a cat. He only liked cheese and peanut butter yesterday, but this morning his tail had grown long and fluffy, and he no longer liked his mousey things.
There is a thin line between real and pretend, and you, Miss Chark, and you , Mr. Poindexter, have fallen into the Twilight Zone
Fierce goblins rode these wolves,
their curved scimitars, raining death,
their fierce visage could freeze the heart,
they moved with the giant spiders,
death comes in so many ways.
The battle on the right was terrible,
blood did flow like a river,
black, blue, green and red,
what horror stalked Badicha.
Already, the foot soldiers are charging into the trees,
they now had the bloodthirst,
it would be their greatest strength,
run on, you soldiers of glories breath.
through the trees with all your might,
there seems to be no fear in their hearts,
they are now berserker,
they now face death without fear.
The golden king and his knights,
they charged up the left flank of the main foot,
swords and spears striking death,
the dragon banner of gold, held high aloft.
There charge broke against the enemy, a terrible crash,
wolves and arlaghs are falling,
the sword and the spear striking home,
the enemy taken by surprise.
Chapter ..... 3 ..... Part .....4
The mother of the storm is in full flow,
forward into the rear of the Arlaghs her chariot ran,
her white hair streaming out behind her,
the storm spear striking home.
Her chariot running over broken bodies,
her scream, that of the storm,
battle fire alive within her eyes,
Dark men following her into the fray.
The battle storm was alive and boiling,
this charge drove home,
still the Arlaghs fighting on,
some now turn to face the storm.
Arlaghs, they never retreat,
they make their stand, live or die,
forward rode the Dark men after their mother,
the battle now met with such ferocity.
Then, such a heartfelt cry,
one never heard in Alahsar before,
it came from deep within a soul,
the soul of the mother of the storm.
Amidst the throng, she saw an arrow strike her son,
she saw him fall to his knees,
instinctively, she reined in her horses,
the chariot came to a stop.
To be continued ..........
Bleeding the power of a savage redcoat
Breaking the bones of weak allies.
I had hurt her for your love
As much as you loved to hurt.
By biting the face who cherished your gaze
By bleeding the blood who pumped your toxins
By singing the songs of our cries
Ripping our stem from the ground
Plucking the tiny pedals
With your dirty hands
That set our world into ablaze.
But I still rested my fate into those rusted hooks.
I remember a love
That broke my touch with fantasy.
Never have I mended it’s cracks
So I stand behind yellow lines
Just above the tracks.
You handed me a rose
But our love wasn’t any special
Just a mutual desire
A dispensable choir
and conversations with fire.
Still, I was frightened by it
The love I almost shared even more.
Poison by caution
As I cautioned with poison
To put more trust in my lust.
Craved your used tool
Of the famous rusted thrust.
But never did I want to accept it
Even with a little trust.
I do not write with resent
Nor of a claim to our time
But only a tribute to a memory you will once forget.
Once a friend, an enemy, a lover
Now a familiar distant stranger.
I dreamt you were more gentle on my foolish soul
Then maybe I'd fix the broken gap
That still oozes blood and sap
From my sorrow and spirted soul.
I follow my warrior princess through country sides
that would scare other foxes.
She is known as the butterfly princess to my kits,
but they keep it quiet.
No one wants to upset her,
not wanting to see her thunder and lightning.
She is aware of me,
and yet not aware; I am her power animal.
Rooting her on.
She has slain creatures with fur, fins, fangs, and filth.
She is a maniacal animal slayer, killing fast and hard.
I keep my eye on her, for I know if she turns on my ancestors,
my clan will be demolished.
I am their guardian too,
my assignment is the new crop of kits on Judgefollow Hill.
Today Warrior Princess is in the throes of battle.. Her turquoise plume intimidates the enemy. It is just a feather, for kit's sake!
Her steely eyes, reflect her mood.
Thunder is dashing out of her aura in the form of terrifyingly beautiful golden butterflies
The enemy, a dragon monster, is incorrectly focusing
on her female face and curling chocolate locks.
She looks unassuming. Ha! I laugh, showing my fox teeth.
As her power animal, I have bequeathed to her cunning and stealth. I helped her sneak up on this moron while he was sleeping.
She just put the knife in him. Got to go get a closer look.
The kits are safe tonight; she has a dragon to butcher.
The ache arrives, a silent guest,
It begins deep within my breast,
Spreads to the back with burning sting
And to the left arm like a string.
It whispers fears, it shouts alarms,
It weakens both my loving arms,
It steals my shine from sunlit days
And leads me through a darkened maze.
I try to fight, to push it back,
To find a less tormented track,
But like a tide it ebbs and flows,
A heavy load that ever grows.
It wears a veil of deadly greed
And plants within my soul a seed
Of doubt, dread and quick weariness,
A slow sombre silent sadness.
It mocks my efforts, scorns me wide
When all my hopes begin to slide,
It thrives on threats and silent sighs,
Reflected in my weary eyes.
I long for peace, a quiet grace,
A moment free from its embrace
To stroll unbound, to breathe with ease
Sense the soft soothing summer breeze.
But still it lingers, ever near,
A constant echo, always clear,
My worst enemy, a harsh plight
That shades stars, sky and screens the light.
II wish it gone, I wish it fled
From my worn out self, my torn head,
To leave me whole, to set me free
From this consuming agony.
Yet in its presence, I have learned
Some lessons that are dearly earned
Of inner strength, of grit and might
To face the darkness with a fight.
Though the cute pain shadows myself,
A foe haunting my inner self,
I'll seek the sunshine and the dawn
Until my journey is soon done.
It’s a common misconception that freedom just appears
Bringing with it peace and love, the rights that we hold dear.
But anyone will tell you who has studied history,
Most times you must fight for peace… and freedom isn’t free!
Freedom isn’t free.
Freedom has a cost.
We must pay the price
Or freedom will be lost.
Thank God for those who serve,
Who fight for you and me.
It doesn’t matter what you might believe,
Freedom isn’t free.
The world is full of bullies, there are those who only take.
Who think their might makes them right. Who cannot build, just break.
It’s hard to do what’s right and to act heroically.
But stand up and be counted… for freedom isn’t free!
Freedom isn’t free.
Freedom has a cost.
We must pay the price
Or freedom will be lost.
Thank God for those who serve,
Who fight for you and me.
It doesn’t matter what you might believe,
Freedom isn’t free.
It’s true the world’s imperfect, until He comes again,
And we become one family, each enemy a friend.
But until His appearance, when His glory we will see,
We must be ever vigilant… for freedom isn’t free!
Freedom isn’t free.
Freedom has a cost.
We must pay the price
Or freedom will be lost.
Thank God for those who serve,
Who fight for you and me.
It doesn’t matter what you might believe,
Freedom isn’t free.
There is an ominous report in our land,
A shroud of disease heavy looms over us,
We’ve been anaesthetized and limp hangs our hands,
No one can escape by plane, train, car or bus.
Do not leave your rural fields or urban homes,
Stay away from crowds, distancing is a must,
On this enemy, a deadly sword is worn,
And has strength to deliver a mighty thrust.
Fact versus rumor is wearing down our trust,
Angst grips us and we cower in its confines,
We are confused hearing both minus and plus,
About a virus that knows no boundary lines.
It’s being said that we’re in this together,
In exceptional unity, we must stand,
And not capitulate under the pressure,
Brought by pandemic’s terror and harsh demands.
The world is having pain like that of hard labor,
And yearns for the moment of safe delivery,
Many cry for help and a healing savior,
From a malicious foe that brings misery.
Heavenly Father, whose name is Most Holy,
In our collective need, hold us very near,
And shepherd us to wellness and recovery,
In mind, body and soul, free of pain and fear.
As casualties mount, bringing deep sorrow,
And families grieve loss of kin and loved ones,
Lord, we pray for comfort in their tomorrows,
For all people of faiths, statuses, and tongues.
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Inspired by Jeremiah 6:24-25 (NIV):
“We have reports about them, and our hands hang limp.
Anguish has gripped us, pain like that of a woman in labor.
Do not go out to the fields or walk on the roads,
For the enemy has a sword, and there is terror on every side.”