Long Everything under the sun Poems
Long Everything under the sun Poems. Below are the most popular long Everything under the sun by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Everything under the sun poems by poem length and keyword.
What is your assignment? Why are you here?
Do you know your purpose and are you prepared?
Many of us are lost and in a state of confusion
We don't know our purpose and have come to no conclusions
We need to realize that it's our attitude and relationship with Christ
Which will determine our altitude and our aptitude in this life
To not concede during seasons of chaos and destruction
To believe that God has our back with a heavenly production
To comprehend that the Lord God answers to no one
As He is the Creator of everything under the sun
To fully understand that God makes the final choice
Amen, so be it He has the final voice
And it does not matter how complex or crazy is the task
Your assignment is to do whatever the Lord God asks
And you don't have the luxury to participate in the decision
For God's plans are designed with heavenly precision
He knows what you're capable of and what you can endure
And He will fully equip you to do your assignment and more
Just have the spirit of excellence when getting the task done
As it will separate you from those who always cut and run
For the beauty of excellence highlights the ugliness of complacency
And complacency is the trait that God had no desire to see
A God sized assignment requires that you do your best
And with a God shaped attitude you will ace the test
But first and foremost do a true self examination
To see if you're still able to handle the situation
To now think critically and take a second look around
To see if you're still operating with all cylinders on the ground
And if a God sized shift must be made
A new horizon in your life will be laid
And every aspect in you will be rearranged
So that you can bring about true change
Never forget that the depth of your God relationship in this life
Will be the foundation of how you worship Christ
Just don't get it twisted by misunderstanding your assignment and your role
You can't replace God for you ain't got that kind of power nor control
Just pray that the Lord God finds favor in you
And that His grace and mercy will come pouring through
A God sized assignment requires a God shaped attitude
Just be excellent when doing the task that for you God did choose
(APROPOS OF 11/21/2018)
i
The fires came and the winds blew;
Nothing remained the same—
If only they knew…praying for the rain;
The floods came the next day
And the flowing mud had its way:
Houses that had remained
Went down the mountain drain;
But they vowed they would build again
Knowing that they were not the blame
And that the old Devil would be put to shame;
For they remained filled with sparkling hope
And fueled by igniting faith in ways to cope;
ii
How could they have ever known
That the fire next time
Would be so dreadfully blown
Consuming all they held so sublime?
Yet, despite the devastating cost
Etched memories would not be lost;
The heavenly Eagle had stirred the nest
And their souls’ spirits had survived the test.
iii
Without caring to warn, fiercely famished
Flames came knocking at fuel’s gate—
Like flesh-eating bacteria
Scorching the ripe Cali landscape;
Most were devoured within the path of the flames,
Leaving ashy structural architectural shards
And remnants of charred human remains
Laying naked among charcoal baked clods;
If only they had known—even imagined—at least…
Nature’s unleashing of such a power—a roaring beast,
With strange winds carrying sparking needles of pain’s grief;
iv
Destruction and death raised ice bed thoughts of long ago—
Of the charred cities of Sodom and Gomorrah—
But healing memories fired flaming faith with spirit filled Gloria:
Remembering Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah—
Also known as Meshack, Shadrach, and Abednego;
In the end, deliverance came sweeping along the charcoaled way,
And the sunrise of time granted them a new blessed day
As the mournful death charred journey remained to be tread;
The Most High, Jehovah, heard their prayers and nodded His head.
v
Everything under the sun and moon come in due season;
Whatever nature brings, the Creator will reveal His reason.
Know then that for what has come, you are not to be blamed;
For in due season, the old Devil will surely fall and be shamed.
Enchantment
a vast universe filled with
enchantment
the cosmos beg for our undivided attention
but our minds are fluttering with
dissension
in order to see beyond our messy surroundings
we must take a step back
back to our core
remind ourselves that there is something more
a heaven can be found
there is infinite beauty all around
there is a place where
dissension subsides
a place where
everything incredible collides
a wonderland of the imagination
real to those who honor their fascination
laughter floats on the breeze
a beautifully messy clammer rustles through the trees
differences are embraced
as love takes Hateful’s place
a love so pure it cleanses the world
a love that yearns for nothing in return
unconditional
this kind love is no longer fictional
peace flows gently
protection from calamity
worn minds take a rest
floating on peace’s quiet chest
peace and celebration coincide
festivity is pulled in by the tide
the veil dropping
a mundane existence now blushing
luminosity dances in the air
vivid colors illustrate a world where people care
Human eyes are opened
the universe has fulfilled its call
its full beauty recognised by all
it’s vast extension far surpasses comprehension
the world is no longer a place of suspension
macrocosm bends it’s finger
in devout pleasure it motions
for the no longer mortal to paint it’s oceans
creation’s touch is like a declaration
art is admired in all its strange formation
chasing of dreams is no longer absurd
the passion in someone
is embraced by everything under the sun
a discovery of self
fulfillment
embracing what makes a person content
adventurers are born
humans notice nature’s adorn
the world grants bliss
to all it’s kingdom consists
heaven is out there
peel back life’s layers
to find the wonder we must all share
love truly
live passionately
embrace life’s insanity
never give up hope
heaven can be found within life’s infinite scope.
It’s a warzone out there
And your mind is a minefield without the warning signs
Breathe;
it's only ash clouds out there
The sun's burning my eyes, yet everything but you is blurry by design
There’s a chemical imbalance,
Whatever
It’s sort of my most motivationally scarring talent
To be off kilter for as long as I can remember
I am the destroyer of your worlds without connection
Codependent, but the only sidekick to the truth
Behind your eyes, I am your ill-fated point of view
And if I’m sick, you’re dying
It’s very clear to me now
That you can’t be my therapy
But can you be my chemo?
Show me how much you love me in the form of synthetic sacrifices
I know you wouldn't take a life for me
But would you keep me alive with anything under the sun?
Take a pin and draw your own flesh and blood?
You make me wanna tell you anything and everything under the sun
But oversharing will inevitably be the death of me
There's so much I'll never end up saying anyways
And you still leave me hanging every chance you get
I know you’re typing but do you forget to hit send?
Is torture ever worth it?
Versatile are these landmines with incredibly high success rates
Was there any sea that Moses wouldn't have parted?
I wouldn't wanna climb this mountain just to be sent back to where I started
Not now, not a thousand years B.C
I’m the boy who cried for heroes,
Non-parasocially
But I’m weeping again for real this time
I need you more than ever!
Sin quieter this time and show me some spine!
Forget quick and painless, I’d much rather you kill me slow
If i’m sick, than you’re decaying
But like a corrupt lawyer, I pretend that I don’t know
And I do tend to defend you
But can you be my chemo?
Is that the best way to get to know you?
Make up your mind before I lose mine
You are my chemical revival with a 100% success rate
My withered future is just a light tax to pay
for this disease that’s all the rage!
The fractured imprint of Cassandra remains;
burns bright; pounds at the gates, silenced. She says,
"Keep Quiet, your words have power.
Say only, "Let me be an instrument of your will, Lord."
Tongues and ties will bind- an act of balance with no end.
In turn, opening His love for you, pounding nails in a board.
"Your reward is not in this life: your reward is this life.
Your gift: to experience the glory of Creation with all your senses-
to learn to love like agape- an eternal constant knife
that cuts what separates and tears down all fences.
The agents of 'separation' are manifested thoughts
and actions of humans who fall into despair.
Despair leaves little room for love- so love transmutes
into compassion, flows towards you unnoticed through the air.
She absorbs the slings and arrows of despair;
a well that when drawn from, overflows and waters your roots.
The 'weak force' is more powerful than the 'strong.'
Through a matrix, "singlets" are born from pure energy-
born of an imbalance between Creation and Annihilation;
everything seen and unseen in nature has won the quantum battle
to exist for a while, but not for long.
Yet, the 'weak force' is often defined in terms
of destructive radioactive decay- that mirrors
processes observable on Earth. May we redefine
ourselves and each other backwards, from death to birth?
When the Magi presented their gifts to the Christ-
most precious and beloved, worthy gifts to a prince or a pauper.
And when He was grown, He said, "All gifts are equally beloved
and all men are princes and paupers."
There is no direct correlation:
Between what we sow and what we reap-
is everything under the sun. That which unites and that
which separates to rule are the transient game.
"Be not proud, for all your gifts and faults are tools, to help
you quantify the gifted and the poor the same."
Rewritten on 11/28/13.
Dear life or well I was going to say God but well we both know I am not a believer in all that. So, I guess I will just call you the question mark. I spent my whole life being told what I had to believe in this or that and told to keep.
my mouth shut and do as I am told. I never did as I was told ever. If I had well this paper would be not be written.
For many years I thought I had to live up to everyone's standards on how I should act told to stop writing and focus on the wrong person. Told to keep certain things to myself but when I did then others would get mad. Been called everything under the sun by good "Godly" people. I know I should just get over what had happened to me but we both know that is harder then just snapping of my fingers. Why did you do it to me? Why did you send that person in my life to show me how weak I can be or to test me? It seems my whole life has been nothing but tests. When will the test be over with?
I would like to know my grade now. Did I pass or fail? We know that I paid my dues nine months in that dark place because someone decided to put me there. Guess you never thought I would get out of it. You keep sending me people into my life to take them away soon as I get close to them. Who will it be next time? You probably won't tell me just to keep me on my toes. Sooner or later my breaking point will come. The fact that it hasn't yet should show you who i am. Keep throwing those fast balls at me maybe I'll knock you out with one because we both know that I can do it. But I do have to say that I am grateful though for being able to surpass what they thought of me all those years ago. I just wish it didn't come with the this itchy scar. I will tell you one thing I'll keep going on until I can't anymore. I will also keep questioning everything. I might even write some of it down. Catch you later on life.
_Jesse
Dressed in white clouds,
And the night in satin,
She runs warm fingers through my hair,
And we travel along as if no one is there.
The music pours down from heaven
I am a desperate clown and I dance and I cry
And I fly from the strings in your arms like a puppet,
And I am waiting for everything to happen.
The great mistake we make is we take love for granted,
And we close shut our eyes and strike imbalance,
As the snow falls for long and it stirs us,
So I say goodnight for the night to hear us.
A copper coin in a tray for your delight,
A cello a sparrow a dog and the sea,
And the sadness in my eyes as the stars they shine,
And what I want will be close to my heart and be mine.
I say goodnight to the moon, goodbye England,
Bongiorno Italia, it’s a trip we should take,
And in my hand I hold a ticket,
And make my future with the light steps of a cricket.
I have a voice that’s achingly serene,
A nervous breakdown and a broken arm,
I have everything under the sun, I belong,
And with the next beat I’ll be even more strong.
It’s not what you say but what you do,
And the vistas and panoramas of life
extend way up to the heavens
I am hanging from a tree, they bring me food,
And it’s now time to improve,
For I am close and I am tight to the endless,
And whatever you try you can’t bend me.
If at times I can hide from the crowds,
If I am a juror with panache and buoyancy,
If I can climb up 10,000 stairs and still breath,
I can take 10,000 stairs and be on destruction’s eve.
Personally I take an issue, but I suffer sometimes,
And if the night is young then I fight,
And if you flirt with me I ignite,
For what is a story without an ending,
And then love is only understanding.
One of the oldest from of advertising the world has ever seen
Based on reputation of a person, either good or bad
It can be kind of slow or right threw a town like wildfire
Put one out of business or wipe the slate clean
Be the best news in the world or it can be pretty sad
One thing about it, it will never expire
Several years back, I was living in a small cow town
It was in West Texas, the only thing that changed was the breeze
Everyone knew everyone's business, but still they would talk
Had only one sidewalk to roll up when the Sun when down
Most everyone's attitude was do as you please
Years went by time never changed on the court house clock
Old man Livingston, had the hardware store and mercantile
Sold guns, coyote traps, even had some knitting yarn
Most everything under the Sun, probably had some moonshine in the basement
If you stayed there long enough he would make you a deal
Even had cats to get rid of mice in your barn
Told a traveling sign painter one day, " I am the advertising department"
The sign painter pulled up in an old station wagon jalopy of a rig
Filled with half empty paint cans, saw the old sign outside
"Mr Livingston, your old sign could use some paint from what I see"
"No Sir, on advertising I am not very big"
"See folks from around these parts know me far and wide"
"I will tell you my secret and I think that you will agree"
"See the first time they come in, they try to get me in the end"
"They think that they are going to get a bargain"
"And I even throw in some things for the wife"
"Then I figure up the total, Damn Livingston I thought that you were a friend"
"I give them a big old screwing, they are still trying to get even"
"And that way Son, I have them coming back for life"
Form:
Whatever reason it may be, disgusted by life itself, I felt offended being alive and that’s why I opened my heart’s window and watched
a passing cloud within the heart.
I understand that everything under the sun shall change its shape
as time elapses and, the leading stars of the time also vanish to yield their position to new stars as the stage of history revolves, yet still I have a question, why does it have to be that way? On the other hand, though, the circle of human life did not change from the beginning of the time of its conception to very end of everyone’s day, so I have to ask again, why?
The answers to those questions, though not conclusive but tentative, came to my mind were, no matter how much the medical technologies may be advanced as men insist, living things never fail to die; and men are always hungry though they eat like a pig because men’s daily bread comes from crops produced in the barren soil. No matter how man beautifies life rhetorically with words such as love, blessing, abundance, and glorify with such communal phrases: god, spirit, holy, or sanctity, men’s life is miserable and hopeless as before because they have to inhale the mass of evil that is filtered through the air to survive.
Since no one ever defined explicitly or gave me a straight answer on human life, I have no way to solve the problem of life but to satisfy with the common words ‘life is not different from any other thing.’ But if I comfort myself with a trite remark such as this, isn’t it an act of betraying my mother? Because the mother went through such enormous labor pain in order to bring this helpless child into this world and rose with her whole hearted earnest care to plant hope on this corrupted world.
In Kenya, they are called value-added taxes, “yani VAT”.
They change and increase every year
And are placed on everything under the sun.
The prices increase daily,
But they say it would lead to everyone paying their fair share of tax.
They are better referred to as poverty taxes,
Because they punish the poor to become the poorest,
They entrench selfishness among the neighbours and friends,
They take away the only saving of the poor in the society,
and one wonders why the poor remain the poorest.
The tax takes the homes,
The mortgages become unaffordable,
The rent skyrockets in Nairobi, Kisumu and Mombasa,
While the gas prices become unbearable.
The cars and bus rides become a luxury,
and our lunches are taken from our mouths.
The tax man is always on the door,
You wonder if you are under some emergency evacuation.
Taxman takes every percentage of your hospital bill,
Or school fee, or your child’s pocket money, or church tithe offerings,
Until there is nothing positive to take away.
Worst of it, the bills and penalties are always in your postal mail.
The services offered at government offices are poor.
The civil servants are rude to the core like vampires.
The infrastructure development is wanting,
The electricity blackouts in rural areas are frequent,
Education facilities not well equipped,
Health facilities are rotting from inadequate funding,
and any innovation is suspiciously viewed as a threat.
The tax man never explains where is the tax,
Nor what development activities were completed.
The poor’s voice can’t be heard yet everything is taxed.
The poor continue to be taxed to poverty,
While the tax man feeds the corrupt all the taxes.