Long Expects Poems
Long Expects Poems. Below are the most popular long Expects by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Expects poems by poem length and keyword.
Life’s thunderstorms always come at a moment
When no one expects
It seems like every time it’s sunny
First, come gray clouds, then it downpours
Sometimes, it rains so hard
You may get knocked over
The wind may be so strong
You may get pushed away
The lightning comes in so many directions
You may get struck down
It thunders so loud you may just want to bury your head and never come up again
Just remember that God is your umbrella
Troubled times are like troubled waters
They come and go
So, try and smile and keep your head afloat
Because, after every thunderstorm
There is peace, tranquility, and a rainbow as a promise
That there will never be a storm like this again
Jesus has laid down the bunt
So others can advance
Jesus is the Sacrificial One
Jesus has given us a second chance
Jesus is the Sacrifice Fly
Jesus is the Reliever
Jesus is the Grounder with a Seeing eye
Jesus is the Big Leaguer
Jesus is the Pinch Runner
When we feel beleaguered
He heads home along side each sinner
[Sliding] We hear "Safe!" from our Redeemer
Jesus keeps His eye on the ball
We too must keep our focus
We must look to Him Who goes to the wall
He's the Warning Track we must notice
Notice Him Who coaches
Notice Him who hits the cutoff Man
Notice Him Who broaches
(As an extra inning approaches)
Notice Him Who takes notice
Notice Him Who gloves (and doesn't have to grasp)
Notice Him The A-Mays-ing Grace
Making the over the shoulder catch
(He's making us fisher's of men
By going over the wall, catching and bringing us back again)
When we make an error
He is there to help us through it
He expects us to persevere
Even when we over threw it
Get over it, get on with it
Don't remain in your sin
Confess and repent of these things
This is how we win
So stretch your muscles,
but not the truth
You can do nothing against the truth
Because we have The Sleuth
Jesus helps us get ahead in the count
Even when we are behind in the count
Check your swing and choke up
Don't get caught looking around
Don't get caught looking up
As they did when He went up
If you are on base, have faith
Jesus is batting clean up
So if your in the line-up
It doesn't matter your place in order
Jesus has positioned you
Where He needs you as an athletic supporter
So walk to first circumspectly
And to second (but don't roam)
Don't steal third, wait on the Lord
And He will drive you home
So on that day and in that game
When Jesus makes the call
Remember you have faith not by how you field
But by The One and His Faith that has been revealed
So if your tired of the baseball metaphors
Remember God is keeping the score
But I'll leave you with Golf's Harbinger
God is yelling the warning "Fore!"
"The Gift"
Communication to a friend...
Responding to what you have written, responding to your thoughts. This is a very deep and very sad write and I get it.
I would like to read the story further to see how it unfolds.
One, no matter how F’ing awful the cards drawn in this life, expects to see a “win” at some point, even if it’s a small win. I think this is a metaphor for the treadmill of life and the large amount of driving down roads and passing parcels (messages) to others (you experience also in your job). Life becomes so stilted and routine after a while, like going to sleep and waking up (when you’d rather stay in your dreams, even the nightmares are lacking routine).
I wonder sometimes, when passing the parcel (like that game we played – or some of us played – at children’s parties, when we were very very young, with the expectation of a message of mystery and elation, then the unwrap, to find just another parcel wrapped underneath it all with another message for the next player we passed the parcel to – well, I wonder, what that person hides in their journey, no matter the glossy and cheery exterior they wear in front of us, swinging their gaslight, as some kind of torture, to say, “see I’m doing so much better than you”….when perhaps they aren’t and they are hiding great depths of despair internally, where they fall fathoms daily, not reaching even the bottom but they, in their own way, are trying (boy are they trying), to find the ladder to claw their way back out of the sinkhole (built by themselves, or others), towards the light. Depression loves its camouflage fatigues. Eventually, surely the last parcel reaches the person it is intended for and when the final unwrapping occurs, what’s contained in the Pandora box, may or may not be the diamond we were expecting.
I think you should continue this – it is like the opening chapter to a novel.
Have a lovely, peaceful, safe and joyful Christmas and I think perhaps 2023 might be your Year (for all good things to come your way).
With LOVE,
that is all that matters,
through every waking moment
p.s. I expect to read your next instalment on Christmas Day.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Christmas
In the middle of the night
When everything is still
I awoke to hear a tapping noise
On the window sill
Tap, Tap, Tap
And tapping once again
I cowered under my eiderdown,
Hoping it was the sound of rain.
My imagination
Was running riot
Who expects visitors
In the middle of the night?
Can it be the Grim Reaper?
Checking up on me
Who could hear my heavy breathing?
And visited me to see
If it was time for the collection
Of another soul
Perhaps his nightly selection
Needed to reach a goal.
I was cold
Shivering and shaking
I wanted to be bold
But that was too big an undertaking,
Help me, please,
Where did that word come from,
Please don't tease
I'm not feeling fit and strong
I'm getting weaker
And this night goes on and on.
Praying that Grim Reaper
He has got tired of waiting and gone.
My heart has stopped pounding,
My breathing is steady
I feel warmer
And my eyes feel heavy.
Where am I?
I'm lying cosily in bed,
Oh, thank goodness
I must have dreamt that I was dead.
She opens the DSM-5 to page 666,
Know Thyself,
who among us is not a Beast somehow,
she's enthralled by Imperfection,
It explains the scars on her heart,
if she believed in Perfection
then she would need to accept her own nature
unequivocally,
she would have to love every part of herself,
poetry is her therapy
building puzzles her bliss
solving puzzles her passion,
she is a madwoman in the 3rd degree,
a sensational spaz
believes that she is a heroine among the herd,
starlet atop a soapbox
cavalier with her cross of crass sass,
she cares too much to be free...
searching in the trauma of souls
for her own ghost
lovestruck by the Devil's lightning
Godsmacked by the grind
listening for God to apologize,
she's exhausted by cynicism
brilliant yet bitter,
a cutthroat competitor,
frozen beauty in a flame,
she expects Life to buck her every day
a jaded girl looking for the grim,
on stormy days she sings to the static
perhaps she's waiting for the Apocalypse -
J.A.B. 2020
Mundane life, so routine, so conditional, so mutational
Has me feeling like I carry a weight with me
On my soul, on my heart, in my intentions,
In my choices, on the very essence of my fate!
Mundane life, so boring, has me smiling and closing my eyes
In the silence of the darkness that closes in on me
While dreaming of the power acting behind me
Pray, wish I to decipher its cryptogram
So that I may feel as light as air
Carefree, without the weight that accompanies me!
Mundane life appeals not to me,
I see no aim in living it
Other than finding and holding the hands of
The other part of my soul
Meant to accompany on the journey towards Eternity!
Pray, mundane life, so totally chaotic
Expects us to behave with it, like robots
With the will to keep on toiling
As if such were all that matter in life
And having the desire to keep on surviving
Whatever happens to us and to our surroundings!
From the mundane life wish I to be saved, of course,
After having accomplished my share of duties
Why, being a free spirit can be quite stinging!
To a Blind Man
To a blind man your words seem foolish
To a man with open eyes
You are so clever and wise
Your thoughts go above ours
Like heaven is to the world
To a deaf man you where just a man
To a man with open ears
You guide them home taking their hand
Walking by their side
While they listen as you guide
Building their home on a solid foundation
As you will deliver them into salvation
To a blind man the world
Seems to be improving
While you have some
That sit and ponder why
So many kids now sit and cry
And many put trust in scientist
See them so clever when they could clone
Not realizing many hearts are made of stone
While one with open eyes
Notice how the world tends
To stray very rapidly
How many are going against all the Lord expects
While many eyes have a speck
Blocking out the light to the path
So not aware headed toward the wrath
Lord you are the cornerstone of the construction
While I see many headed to destruction
Her night shoes are glittery red heels
Used as tools to afford bills and meals
They sit hidden in a corner during the day
Until nighttime when she has to be away
While Her children sleep safely in their beds
She wears her glittery red heels with dread
She works the bar pole as she strips her attire
Dancing for tips while feeling high and wired
Her boss expects his own personal show
She has no choice or get his violent blows
She leaves the bar nearly broke and needs a fix
She decides at that time to start doing tricks
Drugging daily since her children were taken away
Feeling worthless and hopeless, her life gone astray
Until she was badly beaten and cut up with a knife
She ended up in the hospital nearly losing her life
After years of treatment, she is stronger and no longer wears those shoes
She visits her children weekly, and works days cleaning to pay her dues
Her night shoes now worn, tattered and dull sit in a corner case on display
She looks at them daily as a reminder, and vows in that case they will stay
5/12/19
Night Shoes Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin
6/4/19 submitted to the contest: Your choice, any form, any theme, sponsor and judge, Brian Strand.
Why are we here on earth,
because the Lord has something for us each to do.
He has not told us what it is,
but it is not to pine over lost love.
It is said he never gives us more then we can handle,
we just need to work at finding our way.
Life can not always be peaches and cream,
we must be ready to take the bad with the good.
Life will not always be what we expect it to be,
we must open our eyes that we may see.
A person should never feel they are not needed,
we need someone and someone needs us.
Though it may not be the person we want it to be,
someone is out there it may just be a matter of time.
To grieve over a lost love one is to be expected,
to go through life alone is not what anyone expects.
We need only to open our eyes and believe...
I am needed ...I am wanted ...by someone.
Someone is out there waiting for me,
a real live human Being...I just need to believe.
Entry: Retread What You've Said And say it Better!
Contest Sponsor: Moses
2nd Place Winner
THE FORGOTTEN PEOPLE
WHEN I WAS GROWING UP IT WAS AN HONOUR TO SPEND TIME WITH MY GRANDPARNETS, TO LISTEN TO THE MANY STORIES THAT THEY HAD TO TELL ALWAYS WITH AWE AND AMAZEMENT.
BUT AS I HAVE BECOME A SENIOR MYSELF AND HAVE TO DEAL WITH MY AGING MOTHER, I LOOK AROUND ME AND I AM ALONE. WHERE ARE MY SIBLINGS, WHERE ARE THE PEOPLE WHO SAY THAT THEY CARE "MISSING IN ACTION" I AM A PERSON THAT BELIEVES IN ACTIONS OF A PERSON NOT THE SWEET TONGUE WITH SUGAR COATED WORDS, THAT MEANS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.
HOW DID WE COME TO THIS, WERE WE HAVE NO TIME FOR OUR AGING PARENTS AND EVERYONE EXPECTS FOR ONE PERSON TO CARRY ALL THE BURDENS, THAT WE HAVE TO ENDURE DURING THIS TIME.
OH, WHAT A SHAMEFUL PLACE THAT WE HAVE ARRIVED AT IN OUR SOCIETY WHEN THERE IS NO RESPECT FOR OUR ELDERS, WHO HAVE BEEN THE PILLAR OF OUR SOCIETY, NO ONE HAS THE TIME TO SPEND WITH THEM, NOT EVEN A MINUTE "SHAMEFUL"
YET THEY ARE QUICK TO TAKE FROM THEM, TO BLEED THEM OF ANY FINANCES THAT THEY MAY HAVE" SHAMEFUL"
WHAT HAS HAPPEN TO HONOUR YOUR AGING PARENTS, WITH LOVE AND RESPECT, JUST COMMON DECENCY.
TAKING CARE OF THEM IS NOT EASY, BUT LOVE CONQUERS ALL IT IS SOMETHING THAT EVERY GENERATION HAS TO PLAY ITS PART.
REMEMBER THAT ONE DAY IF YOU LIVE LONG ENOUGH, THAT WILL BE YOUR FAITH, BECAUSE WE REAP WHAT WE SOW EVENTUALLY.
THE DEBT THAT WE OWE OUR PARENTS IS A DEBT THAT WE CAN NEVER REPAY, ESPECIALLY THE DEBT TO YOUR MOTHER.
REVERE THEM, LOVE THEM, FORGIVE THEM, TAKE CARE OF THEM, GIVE THEM THE DIGNITY OF LIVING THEIR LAST DAYS IN PEACE.