Long Exclaiming Poems
Long Exclaiming Poems. Below are the most popular long Exclaiming by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exclaiming poems by poem length and keyword.
Serving God through the ministry
‘Tis a privileged calling of heavenly victory
Requiring faith midst trials’ misery
Under servanthood territory
Against slothfulness-directory
Exalting* the Saviour by His Gospel story
Exclaiming gratefully, With “To Christ be the glory!”
Serving the Lord God calls for sacrifices
While engaging with His mighty forces
To attain prayed-for good success
In going through biblical courses
Midst difficult grueling process
Empowered by the Holy Spirit that blesses
Thanking Him worshipfully along divine experiences.
*Psalm 99:5 Exalt ye the LORD our God.
April 6, 2019
***AND NOW GOD BRINGS TO YOU… ***
Ladies and Gentlemen!
Through the auspices of
Our Glorious God’s
Creation Company…
Traveling the infinite of Love…
Across the heavens, then
Through our atmosphere, and,
With His eternal nearness to
The Earth’s moving horizons ~
In His wanting to reach
Every bedroom
Door and window with His Light…
All rise, please, as
The New Day
Now Presents to you:
The Sun!
See how
She first appears with a single, flaming peek
Out from beneath
The opaque black curtain of night,
Which stirs us to wake from
The forgettable dreams of dead sleep.
The fanfare of trees,*
which grows and breathes,
just beyond my window,
Now tunes up to accompany
Sun’s early swim up the sky,
Their punctuating notes, their leaves
swishing and flittering
In time with whistling breezes to
Signal
Sun has begun
Her welcomed performance —
Quite delighting our eyes
With her dazzling, ornate, orange dress.
There are exclaiming cheers heard
from Mother Nature’s
“Sold-out” audience — that color-lush
Everywhere around,
Holding hope for this re-rebirth of
A new day, preceding all
The days of discovery still to come.
————————————————
** Note: “fanfare” of trees —
SO, For the trees outside my window, it is not a “group, border, array, cluster, grove, mass, or forest.” Since I needed to describe and define with a NEW adjective, Writer’s License was used - after research — i coin the trees with whom I interac as a “fanfare” of trees, meaning essentially, an ‘addition’ or enhancement to a specified principal thing, which adds value.
Written with concern for world’s areas
surfering severe drought. Prayers going
Up for your relief & all peoples to work on the global environmental crisis.
(c) sally young eslinger 1012/22
you opened your mind
and dropped your defences
you smiled at pretences
nodding blind, bending to the lies
you're connected to the tribe
you chatter and shout
mouthing simple phrases
spouting mindless praises
it sounded like clear sense
peddling common nonsense
was it worth fighting for?
a blood-soaked score
moving in circles, subdued
speaking in half-truths
exclaiming your virtues
going with the flow out to sea
are you where you wanted to be?
or did you die inside the stream
it'll lead you without remorse
stripping humanity, its only cause
it'll drive you insane
wrapping you in chains
while you cry "freedom"
from earthly refrains
A virus of the mind
infecting your senses
entrapped by your pretences
playing on selfish desires
creating falsehoods to admire
was it worth fighting for?
a blood-soaked score
moving in circles, subdued
speaking in half-truths
exclaiming your virtues
going with the flow out to sea
are you where you wanted to be?
or did you die inside the stream
you realise the truth, only too late
in dreams and faded memories
broken by promises of hate
already it has sealed your fate
day by day, you're fading away
as your mind slowly decays
was it worth fighting for?
a blood-soaked score
moving in circles, subdued
speaking in half-truths
exclaiming your virtues
going with the flow out to sea
are you where you wanted to be?
or did you die inside the stream
MORASS OF POOP
lucid crudity,
profoundly abusive,
mostly nudity,
but for some crass morass of poop.
the dam’s jammed with ***********,
jelly-like googly eyes,
a real mr. potato head.
i scream,
someone change mr. wonderful’s diapers!
upon exclaiming this topic,
excrement of cussing,
like diarrhea deserts the hell hole.
something clean,
like angel’s wings,
with diaper pins and all
W W
W W
W W
W W
an angel, nothing like a nun, with cherry cheeks,
simplicity’s smile, and a big bar of soap
at first he froths and foams like a madman
but with a clean diaper and pins in place,
he almost looks like a saint
4/8/2018
John Lawless’ Changing The Mind’s Diapers
If slavery was a choice, as some have agreed, then what are we?
If watching your father and mother endure rape or murder was a choice,
Then why do we sit on idle hands, while Trump eradicates our posterity’s opportunities,
As if they were written in sand?
If not being able to read was a choice,
Then why do you go to the PlayStation in a rush
while your library card collects dust?
Even a Ward educates themselves,
Even the eunuch Greyjoy developed the courage to stand against evil.
In the midst of upheaval, one mustn’t look through a straw while planning the future.
The sagacious knows fighting must be eschewed when only death is in thy terms.
Allah heard their suffering, but sometimes the way out is through.
They didn’t endure out of docility or obsequiousness,
But out of discernment and sagacity.
The desolate doesn’t become prosperous by exclaiming tumultuous absurdities,
But by embodying opulent minds.
Go back to the mother, which is the way, and endure the storm,
While being metamorphic in form.
You see, my Kings and Queens,
The only choice they made was to give their posterity a fighting chance,
To gather strength while the usurpers wane and start to underestimate.
We must pick up the quill and write our own fates,
No more brooding or carping about what Donny Thrump is doing.
One man’s decisions determine another man’s life,
As much as a drought challenges the land.
Yet, life, like the Way, will always find a path to flourish,
Forevermore permeating even the harshest conditions.
We must stop talking about what great leaders and men should be,
And become Great Men and Assiduous Leaders.
We were the first great civilization and shall act as such.
Lead with grace,
Strike with prudence,
Read great books that enrich the mind,
Treat each other with unyielding reverence,
Because we each carry a piece of the divine.
I am that I am, and I am my brother's keeper.
3 masked men
Sun at their backs burning heavy, bright
As silhouette turns to figure,
A striking image displaying only death
3 masked men
Sea born breeze blowing, a single tear
Was there a message?
3 masked men exclaiming silently.
3 masked men
Drawing ever closer
Fields drag with anticipation
Closer the men draw
3 masked men
Arriving with gifts from a recent history
Belongings sharing horrific memories
These have seen battle
3 masked men
Departing saying nothing
Speaking thousands of words
Honor the souls that live in these vessels
No more men
All stands still
Women weep for their loss
Children missing memories soon to be
No more men
Blood soaked ornaments
One lost
Many lost
3 masked men
Sunsets sweet memory
It can't have been the scallops
Or the rump of Islay lamb,
Washed down with white Rioja
Followed by sweet meringue.
It wasn't the skate au poivre
Or smoked salmon canapes
Nor garlic stuffed green olives
Or the double chocolate glaze.
The ruby red barolo
Is surely not to blame
(It was so very very good,
We had some more of the same).
The piquant piccalilli
That came with the ham terrine
Was absolutely to die for,
In French, "Cuisine Sublime".
The roasted veg in garlic,
The rich redcurrant sauce,
All perfectly delicious -
And then we passed the port.
Replete, we left the table
Of coffee to partake,
With a couple of Glenlivets
To sup for old times' sake.
A perfect evening, then off to bed
To dream of happy days.
'Twas not to be, a sudden waking
With a screeching shout of pain,
The hounds of hell were gnawing
At a foot now sore inflamed
And throbbing, throbbing, throbbing,
In purgatory now moaning,
In agony exclaiming,as,
Tormented, he writhes about,
"Must be a change in the weather
Has caused this devilish gout !"
My husband... has never minded
eating a vegetable he doesn't like
just so they will eat theirs...
Or eating half smashed, soggy potato chips
out of clammy little hands,
when they've decided they would like to share...
He's fine... letting them play hairdresser...
sitting patiently, while they curl his hair,
He will play Old Maid, pretending to have a sour face...
all the while letting them win
He doesn't mind drinking muddy looking tea
from a tiny little cup, that is too small for his fingers
Or sitting out in the blazing sun
on a hot summer afternoon
watching them stay cool, as they frolic in the sprinklers
He shows excitement
over a Popsicle stick
glued onto cardboard,
and tied with a bow....
exclaiming it to be his favorite birthday gift...
He doesn't mind taking them up and down the aisles of Wal Mart
for an hour, while they decide how to spend their dollar
He would rather spend his day playing hopscotch
than a round of golf
He's their Grandpa.........
Just one more reason why I love him
________________________________________________________
"A Good Man" Contest
Sponsor: Lewis Rayne
This is our precious Earth
It's high time we savvy its worth
When the King Sun emerges in the east
When the waxing moon smiles dark sky amidst
When little seeds pierce the earth's sheet
When fluffy white waves nudge our feet
Praise our precious Earth
And merrily savvy its worth?
On perceiving the terrific designs on butterflies
While admiring the stunning colors of dragonflies
And the vivid shapes of insects and little bugs
While seeing the colorful snails and black slugs
Just praise our precious Earth
And try to savvy it's worth
When the life saving rain drops glitter
When the lovable pet animals utter
When night loving katydids sing lullabies
When responsible parent birds feed babies
When mushrooms bloom out of trash towers
When deserted land blushes in cactus flowers
Remember this could happen only in our Earth
And so save our earth by exclaiming its worth
When the blue skies and green grasses grin
And the lofty trees and mountains shine
While glimpsing the beautiful landscapes
While relishing the rivers and their shapes
Remember, this is possible only in our Earth
Failing to fathom its mere worth
Will be the sinful mistake we ever commit
To the future generations; We gotta admit
Our mother earth is precious
She is too gracious
So savvy her worth
Save our earth
April 22 2022
https://youtu.be/L0DVo51ywj8
The inn of my Heart
has many rooms;
I thought I knew them all.
They were peopled with
husband, children,
family and friends.
Even God had a room,
and I visited them all frequently.
I really didn't think
there were any more rooms;
Until one day,
while walking through my Inn,
I discovered a suite of rooms
unoccupied.
"Who is this for?"
I loudly asked,
"And why have not these rooms
been used?"
No one could tell me who,
and no one could tell me why.
So I stumbled around the rooms
exclaiming over the things
that I found there.
But as surely as day must dawn
the realization slowly came,
and with such a sense of discovery,
I stood there in awe
wondering what I would do.
For I had entered the rooms
filled with the essence of me.
There were all the hopes,
and dreams,
and feelings,
of one human soul.
And when I looked with understanding,
I saw that even the ugly things
had not been forgotten here.
It was a fearful thing
to be confronted with myself,
to see so clearly all the things
I had long ignored.
You see, the things we ignore,
hoping they'll go away,
simply move into our rooms
and wait for rediscovery.
Your turn will come,
if it hasn't already,
to enter your suite of rooms
and be confronted
with all the essence of you.
What will you do?
And, what am I going to do now?
Escape and close the door?
Lock it?
Build a wall in front of it?
Try to forget the things I found
in my suite of rooms?
Put my blinders back on?
Or will I have the courage
to move into my rooms;
to become familiar with those intangibles
that exist in all of us;
To learn to live with
the ugly things,
and not be defeated by them;
To sort out the useable
from all the rest,
and use it with enthusiasm;
To know that what I found here
won't always suit those around me,
But acknowledge it anyway.
I stand now in the doorway,
looking out, looking in,
wondering . . .
Submitted 17 Sept 2016
To Contest: What Might They Find There