Long Faithfully Poems
Long Faithfully Poems. Below are the most popular long Faithfully by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Faithfully poems by poem length and keyword.
Cruelest thoughts overwhelm
beyond the patrol
beyond the drowning sunlight
firelight creeping up my back,
grab your camera and attack
a moment that doesn't hear
the glowing blue
I should have kept in a faerie jar
ajar is my mind,
hinges broken, hinges built
100 years ago, the repairman's dead
like the postcard I still cherish
oh it has arrived uninvited again, this pain
this favorite feeling flowers
when the spoken dagger
lathered
in poisonous affection
takes the habitual plunge
into pulsing core, and oh
she cannot feel the swirling madness fought
no, that is the worst of it all, she knows not of this
chest clutched, scream schooner, a whirlwind
through every room
each white convulsing
red cherries in time
after Euphrates dries
and Hyde's head screws back on.
I am fine. Everything smiles.
Oozing cryptically, cryptic cryptic don't let them know
that beyond a year ago,
Into slow void, I challenge Time,
I challenge
the non-existent;
I challenge
myself,
and discover...
Don't go back to the fireless rooms?
The fireless rooms
were never places.
The fireless rooms
were never avoidable.
Forlorn freedoms flung farthest
feasting from fear-falling
feint faithfully; fictitiously.
In a lone, innocent desire, the perfect jazz song is playing
it is her favorite song
her unavoidable song on every playlist
as a hallow briar floats by,
knows why
and where
and who I truly am,
knows the buried youth,
and the noxious adult of hap.
I am swinging again. He is swinging again.
That youth,
that whippersnapper.
That fool.
Going too fast. Too fast for his Truth to catch up.
Agony! Laugh at me!
Dig those heals in, heels into the ground, digging
into that old world
of a hosted carnival
that kept the best parts of our personalities. Kept the parts
everyone loved the most
at the top of that ferris wheel,
ecstasy eyes embracing the stars
that would later become supernovas inside
black fire death-in-life,
a death of slow pain would be lovely
masochist!
if only I could hold death as a moment,
death it and then command death
sic death upon evil
and witness true happiness
for the entire world.
Death...
and slow will be...
my descent once again...
Inebriation.
To Sleep. To Machination. Avoid the void...
A love for the forbidden fruit.
Even Dawn Cried About Death Of The Poet
They that see dawn in softest crimson glows
Having sought to embrace the golden moon!
They that ink paradise as a true gift,
Sings praises of the gentle month of June!
Whilst feeding at midnight the hungry crows
Sometimes with iron, and with eager breath
Oft each stands alone, watching dark world turn
Then she that inks paradise as a gift,
With compassion, romantic flames that burn
Wrote faithfully, even unto her death!
Dawn that foretells of living and true love
Helplessly seen as the poetess died
Cast its brightest rays to heaven above
So angels could see how too few cried!
R.J. Lindley, Jan 25th, 1987
*******
Dare We Pray, Humanity Wakes To Be Redeemed
From blacken hills into magical woods we wade
Where golden mushrooms ring shrouds of ancient trees
Praise God, that this earth and humanity he made
Although from great divine wrath it so often flees
In morn's mist, airy shadows rise and slowly fall
'neath hopeful promise of resplendent future state
Whilst those ever beckoning hills heed Nature's calls
Same as man bows to ravages of horrid Fate.
Therein comes immense pleasures of paradise dreams
Too often laced with folly of human schemes
Were it not that love may gift that which hope redeems?
Aye. Love and pleasure are as candy to a child
And thus sweet blessings flow unto those meek and mild
Whereas thistles and thorns pierce deeply those too wild.
Dare we pray, humanity wakes to be redeemed
From evil wickedness, that mankind daily schemes?
R.J. Lindley, March 6th, 1987
Rhyme
*******
From The Virgin Light Into The Dark Mist
There within such immensity of solitude
Rests a billion threads but a sad solitary thought
Of life, earth and barest naked soul therein nude
In worldly prison, dying entity thus caught.
Oh but, tis not that tragedy our daily bread
Fodder for rampaging fires eternally lit
We but sacrifice for those gods long ago dead,
And bawling mass for Hades and its burning pits?
Tis not mankind a true enigma and a bit more
Far, far more than a fallen fly in the hot soup
Once stuck down below but by own hand now can soar
Risen up by vicious might in one dark fell swoop ?
Aye! One may fear to such reality admit
As it leads backward, to thoughts of hot burning pits!
R.J. Lindley, March 22nd, 1987
Rhyme
I suppose I should have been satisfied
with the first letter: I mean, just how
often does the Almighty write to us?
Not since He did it on stone, I suppose.
But I am human and so rarely content--
then too, I still had so many questions,
like why must children suffer cruelty or
deathly ills-- and why are the aged so
often forgotten, ignored, neglected?
Why do so many hunger for vengeance
while others thirst for a drop of love?
Before the act is always the thought--
so why do we lessen the other, turn
him into an animal, some predator
to be feared and hunted to extinction?
And why do we peacock ourselves
with plumes of ego and pride, then
go strutting into the world like
petty kings, wood-hearted queens?
And always, always, we are we less
than we could be, sad thin shadows
of that person we know could, and
should walk free on the sun-lit earth?
I wrote this unmailed letter knowing
He would read the words before I
could put them down-- but I did
not expect an answer... so when I
found another letter slipped under
my door, this too written in a hand
of unearthly beauty, I gasped with
guilt and fear: was I too greedy and
just foolish to want to know the
Mind of God: why He made us
the way we are, what He wants
from us, of us, for us? Now I
began trembling, my fearful heart
pounding like it would burst open!
Still, I opened the letter and read:
"I really am breaking all my own
rules in writing you again, and
I'm not sure why-- yes, I
don't always know my
own mind-- I told you all
a long time ago you
were made in My image--
I suppose I am intrigued,
for the answers you seek
have been sought always,
throughout time, ever really
since I put that immortal part
of you in your ancestors, and
so turned animal into human,
and instinct into choice....
I gave your species
everything needed:
reason, imagination,
speech, and my
greatest gift-- love
strong enough to
transcend even time.
And what did humans
do with these wonders?
You waged war endlessly
and oppressed the weak,
breaking them as though
they were clay pots and
not my beloved children.
So I sent prophets to warn
you to choose light before
the dark ate your souls.
I even sent my only son
to lead you home, but
you killed him-- and you
wonder why life is hard?"
As always,
faithfully yours,
God
Yes, our Creator's Love; this always comes and it goes between to good people and or thing, and in and between Him just as each uses this all; to remain faithfully helpful; to this effort of remaining lovesome for Him, and for one another, and for all life; or; possibly not. But oh yes; to share in this effort with a grateful and ever-gracious gusto!
Yes, fond are these memories running parallel with the truth, but to have loved, just once. Though I would want this again, our Creator in His Goodness, tells me not to worry. His goodness is with all of us on this journey.
Because my faith is hopeful and honest and so is fate.
Propitious the rondos' end-bold in their generous concatenation. Yes; frilly whirlwind June bugs caught up all about us flopping around in their daily dallying, teasing, and toying all around and again waylaying around way to way infinitely, have left me rather intrigued.
As the many shimmering Trout billowing up soaring about aloft and afoot each sometimes a foot and a half or two above the waters under the clear skies above us fall back down into the surface to try and catch them as the shadows floundering, and floating around ever gingerly, and ever-swiftly now all aloft within their effort to greet the Sun, and; the Son; cast their jest of all of this effort upon Jamie and me. Yes, and so in their haste to catch a little glips at a meal, out fly fishing under the full moon so bright a part of the glimmering stars with little Jamie now I have faith enough to know, with our Creator being in charge of all our blessings; and luck! One or two maybe three Trout they'll soon be in our buckets tied up hugging the shore there for breakfast.
But still and yet with no bait. To pick up one, then even several more a floating bug, to tie them up as the bugs themselves I know too now follow after a purpose. Yes, this would be to bring, a sweet, honeysuckle to the Trout; and to be as faithful give to all one a taste as fresh a Love Everlasting.
To live I would die to uphold them in their prominence, given the opportunity of this challenge. Because if it all is still a challenge for my faith to embrace the elements and apparent facts; knowing that fate always provides another opportunity; my faith is humbled. Because my faith I know today is as honest as what it follows after, now, here and hereafter.
I was born, Bronx, New York, in the year 'Thirty-Nine',
the first child with a brother who followed in time.
Ten years later, moved North, Hudson Valley, same State
where I've settled, lived on with my loved ones to date.
But when young, in my school, two fine talents emerged,
and my teachers spared hours to encourage my urge.
I enjoyed my young years while I painted and penned;
lots of canvas and paper used up without end.
At eighteen, I then married the love of my life
and enjoyed my new path of becoming a wife
to my US Marine, very handsome and true;
Parris Island, our home for a year, almost two.
By the age twenty-five- was a mother of three;
a fine son, two sweet girls, a complete family.
We worked hard every day and our life was so good.
I wrote poems and painted whenever I could.
Later, painting with oils was the pastime for me-
while I studied for years at an art gallery.
Varied art shows, displays, and a job filled my time.
Soon I sold many pieces and life was sublime.
Yet, the years went by fast and at age thirty-nine,
I enrolled in a college to study part-time.
Six years later, I earned my prized English degree-
a BA—and a Minor in Business for me.
Then my pictures with words replaced those done with art,
and I soon published poems of life and of heart.
Yet along in this time of my great writing spree
I worked hard every day as our business VP.
For a full twenty years, we worked hard faithfully
after hubby retired as the Chief of FD,
selling our fire equipment, all types, big and small
to FDs, factories, district schools, and the malls.
Our dear children all married, with families too,
are involved happily in whatever they do.
Happy grandma of five- twenty-five to eighteen-
and one granddaughter married two thousand thirteen.
We retired, sold our business thirteen years ago,
still so busy with life, with its ebb and its flow.
We are proud and so blessed and thank God up above,
for our days and our life of good times filled with love.
April 11, 2015
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Where Are You From
Sponsor: Joseph Soper
Judged: 08/01/2017
~2nd Place~
Contest: Bio of a Poet
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
Judged: 04/18/2015
Form: Anapestic Tetrameter (12 syllables, 4 feet per line)
III.
But I had a much higher purpose now,
damned or not, I would serve the True God,
for thirty years I served with my brothers,
upon a humble path I faithfully trod.
Maybe I wasn’t a miracle worker,
though I saved lost pilgrims in my time,
age etched lines in my brothers’ faces,
but it had no effect upon mine.
The abbot swore newcomers to secrecy
about the truth of my vampiric fate,
and I guess I believed I’d just go on
serving an eternity in this way.
But one day as the sun started to set,
I looked out upon a terrible sight:
A small girl running, screaming in fear
as a wolf closed on in for a bite.
I hesitated for just a moment,
the sun was high enough that I would burn,
but the terrified cries of a five-year old
were not something from which I could turn.
I sprinted out with unnatural speed,
instantly my skin erupted in flames,
raced past the girl, thrust my burning hand
to the wolf with jaws of snapping rage.
The fire seared both myself and the beast,
with frantic yelps of pain he then ran off,
I staggered back, my pale skin burned to black,
bits of flesh had flaked off and were lost.
I made it back to the small gatehouse
and I collapsed in the shadows within,
the abbot ran close, with my fading strength
I weakly tried to say goodbye to him.
But he just looked down, said,”We need blood.
Run to the chapel and fetch me the wine!”
A brother raced off, returned with the jug,
made no sense to my greatly pained mind.
He filled a chalice, look to the Heavens,
said,”Lord, I know that I am no priest.
But if he must die, let him drink of Your blood,
let him take part at last in Your mercy.”
I felt this would be a fitting way to die,
burned by the holy blood of my Lord.
But when I drank I did not feel the fire,
in fact I didn’t feel pain anymore!
I didn’t see it myself, but they say
that the charred skin beat a fast retreat,
and through the haze I managed to feel
a deep breath and a steady heart-beat!
When I sat up the sun came through a window
and it fell harmlessly upon my skin,
I felt true hunger, thirty years overdue,
by His power I once more was human!
They said In Him All Things Are Possible,
and I suppose I am the living truth,
strangest of all I still looked a young man,
blessed with the power and passion of youth...
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
You made up your mind to view the world
With different eyes —eyes recessed, eyes inundated with lustre,
Straining to catch every flight of the dancing seasons that hurled
Man and beast beyond frontiers with baluster.
You are the town-crier of our time, delivering messages printed on banners
That hail the energy of the heated earth.
What a voice you possess! So smooth and euphonious, it rings loud and clear
With the gumption of a king’s augurer, leaving behind manners
That haunt us pleasantly with bliss and mirth,
Suggesting frantically the suavity of a seer
Journalism has come to judgement, fragmented by words and the eloquence
Of time and grace. Are you not equal to the task?
The world admits you certainly are! And with supreme relevance
Your disciples are many, Dear one, flaunting the mask
Of imitation — they litter the world like tiny red beads flung and scattered
Beyond boundaries stretching from sea to coast
You are a lover of words, speaking with valour even on the arcades
Of fright, charming viewers with the powers of gathered
Attention when rainy nights and dewy mornings boast
Loudly of integrated existence of cascades
An anointed raconteur you are, reeling off tale after tale
By moonlight of cosseted playgrounds
I assume you frequented gatherings, prelapsarian, on a scale
So great that the sage spoke on select backgrounds
How do you do it?
Do you burn candles with scented tallow, and without
Need of a flint —thus reluming primitively dark alleyways?
You are the light that shines on tenebrous path and grit,
Revealing fey monsters responsible for the drought
That burned the pennants of truth posted on archways.
I never before knew an institution of mass communication
Until the bright age of running news crowned your labours
By way of a universally attended coronation
The world attributes to you the favours
Of heavens and caverns of Eudemons.
Arise, Dear One, arise and claim your special flair,
Make noise with the reeds of the Nile and dance gracefully
As you dine on stewed cinnamons
Rest assured you’re deeply blessed, Dear one with a dare;
I assure you mightily, speaking faithfully.
" IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU THAT I EXIST TODAY"
Tormenting pain of wounded broken heart,
Kept haunting me down, were all shadows of my past.
Extreme agony & sorrow had been killing me quietly..
I've been wishing to end them all,
So at last! I could truly be free!
Perhaps more sticks of cigarettes,
Or some bottles of wine can bring
me to death,
Easily & slowly everyday...
Staring upon the ceiling, right through my window, down to the floor, I see...
Then my door opens wide and closes whenever I want it to be.
Each tick of the clock and printed dates on a calendar for each and everyday..
Everything seems to be telling me this wonderful thing;
"Please..Don't ever give up...
It's because of you that I exist today."
Weeds and plants outside my home
Live and grow without my care..
The sun keeps shining everyday for me which never fails..
The same is true with the moonlight by the horizon,
Or the growing noise of the raindrops falling..
The fresh and soothing air
Can't hide the truth that keeps on telling me..
" Cheer up!!!..Don't you know? It's because of you that we exist today."
Looking at myself, my hands and feet, holding them gratefully..
Despite all odds & tough days
they've been faithfully serving me..
Neither one of them had failed
Nor a single beat of my heart
has ever said,
It is done! and it's giving up on me!
Oh! What life could've been for me?
When they fail to do one thing
As I do with myself today!
When I look beyond my eyes I can see around me..
All things therein have been crying out so loud & clear, I see!
" That I should never give up!
For it's because of ME that they exist today!"
If every breath I take each moment,
Is here in this world for free
And the Sun keeps shining everyday
For you & me...
All things I dream to have
Must've been waiting so long
to get to me.
Never again! would I ever complain except saying "THANK YOU" everyday!
For everything that ever exists today,
Are in MY world because of me.
Each smile I give you everyday when I pass you by..
Sweet hugs or kisses
Respect and kindness with all sincerity,
I can give them all to you now, for free!
For today, I've realized...
I LOVE YOU...is no longer hard to say...
So please believe me if I say..
"You deserve to be loved..
For It's because of you that I exist today..."
In my world nevertheless, these reasons compels me to be alone
For no one can even begin to comprehend to things of unknown
Whether a curse or a deliverance to befall upon me
I have not a choice, neither here nor there to ever be
And having lived an unpredictable life faithfully such as mine
I would redeem myself in The Ancients, as long I be given time
Therefore… with the future to unfold, I have resolved myself to serve
If not to ensave, death as penalty is an afterall I’m to deserve
Let us be on with our way, for the night is to be awaken soon
With luck, let there be light to guide us from beneath the moon”
{As I sheath my metal, I stood my ground and awaited for her
Awaiting… for perhaps a miracle which may yet draws near
This single hope stayed with me as I followed Alkaiya along
Finally knowing as well, this is indeed the world I belong
After what seem forever, we decidedly stop for a moment’s rest
An unfounded moment, for myself I’m unable to simply outlast
There were stones, darken rocks masking the wilderness around
The unsettling settles… as my time as always is to bound
Sitting in my bed once more, I am without quiet relief awoken
For return is but my recounted nightmare of what time beckons
Before my next entry to come, will perhaps be one even harder
As it is the last moment to recall, we have stumbled upon the Heaori Chamber}
In my world I am but a no one
A no one to everyone else who doesn’t believe
Given is another world I can run
Yet… its essentially hard to remain well receive
Little did I thought I have escaped it all
Little am I to know, my service to the Word retains
With many months ago since to ignore
A certainty is certainly less worthy for complains
Back into The Ancients I return once again
Back into hidden love, back into unfavourable dreams
How else if nothing else is to remain?
If not in my world but to have the other world bring
Time and again, the time of the unknown revisits
Always with a meaning deeper than before to believe
Time after time with my mind to battle and weep
Am I aged with enough faith to take another leap?
A chamber where dreams meet fate
Do I possess the strength to enter for dreams to come true?
Will I ever be regrettably too late?
To prevent the death of Alkaiya to be undoubtedly real
………………………………………………..
How in the world do you prepare a loved one for dying?
What if you as well as others have faithfully prayed
For your love one's healing? But instead of improving,
It only becomes much worse. And you storm the
Heavenly citadels of heaven reaching the very throne
Room of The Lamb of God who takes away the sins
Of the the world!
Most believers in Jesus Christ, firmly believe, "it is
Appointed unto man (or woman) once to die and
Afterwards the judgement." And as the Apostle
Paul, the apostle to the gentile nations once said.
"To be absent from the body is to be present with
The Lord." How well and good it is to be reassured
That your Christian friend will be going to heaven!
This is a much harshest case scenario! What if your
Loved one is not born again? You must first faithfully
And diligently pray for Dear Heavenly Father! To give
Unto you the very right words to say to him (or to her).
Hopefully, your unsaved loved one will ask you this
Very viable live changing and life saving question.
"What must I do to become saved?"
In that case situation you simply reply, "For God so
Loved (you) that He gave His only begotten Son; that
Whosoever believes on Him will not perish but have
Everlasting life." John 3:16. What if you friend does not
Nether acknowledges God's very existence. And or your
Dying love one no longer believes in Him!
You can always pray for God to have mercy on his or hers
immortal soul. And into your hands oh Lord we commend
His or her spirit. Speak those words or similar ones out
Loud. Hold on to your loved ones hand, and ask this question.
If you believe in God please squeeze my hand, if you are still
Able to do so. I firmly believe that our dear Heavenly Father
Does accepts and acknowledges death bed confessionals!
Why should any one of us wait until our eleventh hour to
Become saved? Multitudes of people die instantaneously with
Out even having a chance to become saved! And unfortunately
Some people miss out on their last opportunity to become
Born again believers in Jesus Christ, God's only begotten
Son, and our precious Lord, Redeemer and Savior! We
Love, worship and honor Him because He first loved us!
Love in Christ Jesus Holy Name!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
April 05, 2021