Long Fearless Poems
Long Fearless Poems. Below are the most popular long Fearless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fearless poems by poem length and keyword.
I love to travel anywhere, the more foreign the better for me,
Strange lands and how other people live is very interesting to see.
This travel bug I caught got started when I was only eighteen years old,
A college friend and I went to the Bahamas, we were fearless and so bold.
Then I started my career and I knew to take advantage of this time,
Each year I’d set off somewhere new, after saving my every dime.
I traveled to beautiful Hawaii followed by South America the next year,
One of my favourites was Bermuda, I was young, memories so dear.
I flew over to England and stayed for a fortnight to visit a new friend,
We toured all around Scotland traveling as far north as Land’s end.
After that I spent a lot of time in the Caribbean, the trips become a blur,
Many islands look the same, palm trees and beaches, others will concur.
Mexico was interesting studying the Mayans from Chichen Itza to Tulum,
Manzanillo to Puerto Vallarta, high cliffs where the waves crash and loom,
Got engaged in Myrtle Beach, so it holds a special place in my heart,
Then honeymooned in Jamaica where we spent not a moment apart.
Once the children came along, the travel plans required a major adjust,
We would go away on 5 year anniversaries, this was an absolute must.
A Caribbean five island cruise then the next trip two weeks in New Zealand,
But my favourite place remains the Greek islands, windmills, sun and sand.
Liechtenstein, Austria and Switzerland was a mother-daughter trip,
I showed her the ropes of travel and how much to leave for a tip.
Seems this travel bug of mine has proved to be a little bit contagious
My daughter now loves travel but her destinations are more outrageous.
While traveling is usually an educational journey, one that I just adore,
I’ve had moments in Egypt and the Holy land, that chilled me to the core.
But even during these very scary times, one thing that stands forever true,
The people there were kind and caring, someone always willing to help you.
I think that I still have a few more trips left in me, if my pocket book holds out,
Need to see eastern Europe, China and Africa, there’s more to learn, no doubt.
For the meeting of new people and learning their culture, gives my life new lease,
It provides the burden of proof that all should know, we need to work for peace.
Written by Lee Ramage
For Contest "Close your eyes and click your heels"
We were bloody.
Bearing the weight
of a gaping moon like
young Titans-
full of arrogant imagination.
We ran, hellbent.
House after house
playing tricks-
casting spells with
veracious foolishness.
That first pumpkin was
my stepfather. I watched
as his carved out grimace
became the nothingness
I was determined to fill with
chaos.
I screamed the lyrics to our
favorite Hatebreed song down
every street. Letting the Universe
know that no matter how insignificant
the World thought we were.
We would be heard.
All of us, brothers.
Bound by dark matter-
the silent replies to our
prayers that we'd never
admit to sending out;
Together we didn't need
Him, The Devil, or anyone else.
We were fearless, because we had
each other. And the might of bond,
not in blood shared, but spilled as one.
Parents tried to chase us.
Reign us in.
We laughed and taunted-
swinging our pillowcases
full of savory sin with a sense
of joy that only a lost boy could
even begin to understand.
Hands covered in slime, and seed
thundered together and sent out our
cacophony of delight as I tipped over
the HOA's Porta Potty.
Red and blue lights flash.
Someone has had enough.
We escape into the woods.
Sit on the edge of Willow Creek,
and light up a bowl of dirt weed.
The creek was shallow that year.
But, our hearts could fill it up;
All that life pulsing, racing through
our ephemeral- jack'-o-lantern husks.
Smoke signals went up that night.
As we exhaled our silent melancholy.
I think we all had some sort of hope
there, in that place. That our rage
would be sated. That we would be
enough to keep each other safe from
what we could already sense
was encircling us.
We never wore masks.
Not until we got older, grew apart.
And began to see we had to hide
that primal nature inside ourselves to
keep the moon from breaking our
backs. Because, we don't have
each other for that anymore.
But, I'm pulling mine off tonight.
Have a good look-
The scars. The worry lines.
The bloodshot eyes.
That same grimace I tried to destroy-
lighting up the room as if it were
carved to scare you away.
But I am no totem.
No walking masquerade to incite
any sort of terror, or joy for that matter.
I’m just another pumpkin head; candle
dwindling.
Waiting to be smashed.
-James Kelley 2018
My savior was born a man,
He came from heaven, but a man is what he became.
Ordinary, fallen, vulnerable, weak, and confused.
He became all of this and more,
For he knew that only in the form of a servant,
Could he save the lost, and set the captives free.
But there came a time,
I tell you, there came a time,
When he rose up and claimed his former self,
And knew his nature,
I am that I am, He said.
I am that I am.
I was born a boy.
Ordinary, fallen, vulnerable, weak, and confused.
Almost worthy of the condemnation that this world has shamed upon me and
mine,
Almost worthy of the epistemological inferiority, that the world complexly imputes
to me,
I was born a boy,
Full of rage and anger, when they called me “boy” out of their own confusion.
But I came to a man, who is a God, but was a man,
And said, “Lord transform me, my God, transform me into what you will for me to
be”
And he showed me pain.
And he showed me sorrow.
But there came a time,
When I rose up, and claimed the impossible,
To be a child and man simultaneously,
I was born a boy,
But I came to a man, who is a God, but was a man,
And said, “Lord transform me, my God, transform me into what you will for me to
be”
And he showed me pain.
And he showed me sorrow.
But there came a time,
When I rose up, and claimed the impossible,
To be a child and man simultaneously,
And now I can look American hypocrisy in the face, and say “God Bless You”
And now I can look klu Klux klan firemen in the eye and say I love you.
Black, beautiful, strong, fearless, and resolute to endure,
Black, beautiful, strong, fearless, and resolute to right this world’s wrong and still
retain my childlike disposition.
I am a man, I tell you.
And that is more than enough!
For once I strived to rise above, but now I seek to rise in love.
For once I strived to get revenge, but now I seek that hatred end.
And men and boys and women to, would claim the light of victory.
Not because of me, I see, but because of a man, who was a God.
And became fallen, vulnerable, weak, and feeble,
As I felt in a time of trial,
Not because of me, I see, but because of a man, who claimed his former self
and rose to set me free.
And now, I am true.
Not perfect but a man nonetheless.
I was born a boy,
But I reached to the sky, and said, “God help me”
And now, I AM THAT I AM, I AM MAN!
My dream was to be a Jane Austen - or a Virginia Woolfe,
whose novel, "Mrs. Dalloway" rocked the world,
or Kadambari - the muse who inspired the Bard in Bengali Literature.
a few fearless women -
Debjani, and Gandhari, and Draupadi, from Indian classics,
but before anyone else,
I want to be the woman who appears in my dream!
never went to school, she was not allowed,
picked up any paper when sweeping the floor,
and read - she was warned - women became widows if they read,
she was unstoppable!
she had ten kids - two still-births,
she cooked for thirty people each day,
ate her meals after she fed everyone,
she hand-knitted blankets, to keep children warm,
prayed every day for well-being of her family,
and for the universe.
my grandmother, and many women of the world of yesteryear,
started a revolution, carried the torch,
without realizing the legacy they left for us,
the burden they lifted!
The love of learning, the spiritualism, the kindness -
we imbibed as blessings...
did they see us - the women of today
in the horizon?
the modern, liberated, emancipated women,
we are today,
we attend school and choose our path,
we decide to marry or not, who to marry,
we raise our children with confidence.
we don't ask for money, we earn money,
we lead, we invent, we do miracles.
sorry Jane Austen, I would rather be my Grandma's granddaughter,
before anyone else!
March 8, 2022
I was not sitting at a table in a police interrogation room. *
Nor was I seated in front of a judge in a courtroom.
It most resembled a hall of inquisition to eradicate
every trace of Biblical Christianity from the face of
the earth. Through the ages, there have been multiple
tactics and tools utilized to accomplish such a task.
Herein is simply the encounter that I personally experienced.
There I sat, surprisingly fearless I might add, eager to give
witness to 'the what and who of me' to a couple of inquisitors
assigned to ascertain my answers to their questions.
The Session:
He inquired about the reasons I believed it,
and I told him.
He asked me what I believed,
and I told him.
She asked how long I had believed it,
and I told her.
She asked when it was that I first believed it,
and I told her.
He asked where I was when I first believed it,
and I told him.
She questioned why I continued to believe it,
and I told her.
The session, being finished to their satisfaction, they said,
"You may go now". I was relieved that the session was over.
But in a flash, a strong sense of uneasiness swept over me,
whereupon I quickly requested their further attention. There
was something deep inside of me that I needed to say. With
questioning stares upon their faces, in unison they replied,
"You may proceed".
I said, "Sir, Mam. You inquired of the what of me but never
the who of me". Again, with a questioning stare, they looked
at me and then at each other. They then said in unison, "The who?"
"Sir, Mam", I said. The what, the how, the where, the when, and
the why. All of these answers to your questions are like vapors
in the wind if I never gave to you and the world, the who of me.
If the name of my who was never mentioned, this entire session
would surely be in vain". With high-pitched voices, in unison
they shouted, "By all means, do tell"!
Like the slow formation of clouds, tears began to form in my eyes
as I so humbly replied, "He was born of a virgin, put to death by
crucifixion, resurrected on the third day, and ascended into
heaven 40 days later. He is The Christ; I call Him Lord; He is
the who of me, and His name is Jesus". My two inquisitors were
speechless and in unison, pointed me to the door.
111022PS
*Fiction. On this early November morning between 2 and 3 AM,
this poem was born.
Sometimes I want nothing more than to sit and watch you sleep.
The sound of your steady breathing soothes my heart.
Your tiny fist curled under your stubborn little chin.
A reminder of your father whom you resemble so much.
Sometimes you sigh and I wonder what you dream.
A silky curl of hair lies caressing your pudgy cheek.
Recipient of heavenly angel’s kisses before you came to me.
A blessing and suprise you were given to me to protect.
To love and raise up in the image of our true Father.
A difficult task and I feel I’m not up to the challenge.
But I try everyday and sometimes I succeed only to fail.
But your fearless spirit and irascible smile they heal me.
Lead me on to another day another chance to do it right.
A soul sent down from above to mix with genomes and chromosomes.
Spin out and form a wonder in my body nestled under my ribs.
Cherish him the heart cries, teach him the brain declares.
Save him the warrior inside commands and I am overwhelmed.
Until a firm voice enters in and sets things to right.
I will cherish him, I will teach him, I will save him He says.
It is the voice of the One, the Alpha and the Omega, The I am.
Your duty is to be his mother, his confidante, his shelter.
You will provide him sustenance and love and be his guide.
Show him the way, lead him to me for you are all my children.
This is my son as well as yours I gave him to you to keep for me.
One day I will call him back and you will be ready to let go.
He is a part of my plan, my army, my missionaries and my design.
I hear these words and they frighten me, he is MY son.
But I hear the truth in them as well and am burdened with sadness.
With dawning realization I discover that your smile, your laugh.
They are glimpses of heaven and the master plan is clear to me.
With guidance, support and love you will fulfill your destiny.
I carried you inside me, nourished you and cared for you.
Yet you do not belong solely to me. You have a higher goal.
Perhaps you will dance or teach or fight against bitter odds.
But whatever cause you undertake I will be with you there.
Never alone for the bond can not be broken by earthly measures.
And that no matter when or why I should show no hesitance.
For I know that I will always be with you wherever you go.
And for now while you are my sweet baby, you are mine.
Form:
Get up and at ‘em be strong,
feeling I am reborn,
coming back and full on
like an atom bomb!
Expose their corruption
my life saw disruption
I’m putting right the wrong
from where I left off,
unsighted and lost,
but I’ve worked it now,
connect the dots,
going berserk (bloaw).
All I needed was understanding,
couldn’t tell, look potty and shot,
standing strong now, shouting all I’ve got.
Giving it back to cowards
for slander attack, you aint empowered,
and this ain’t back handers or slapped faces,
it’s baseball bats and collapsed in places,
metaphor, you fool,
I use words to tell all.
Remember me?
Obsessed with bringing me down,
made an enemy,
left me beaten on the ground,
it wasn’t the end of me,
by you my friend I’ll never be!!
You changed me and strained me,
left me mentally exhausted and drained,
controlling my reputation, like trolls,
shrinking opinions,
Satan spawn minions.
Strolling through life in the free,
silently proud of what you did to me,
living fearless, all clear,
wetting your pants when I reappear,
and I’ve no fear,
alive so all can hear,
survived to get here!!
I’ve so many angles to ring bells,
shake up made up minds in that hotel,
you contaminated them then, now they don’t care,
until one thought they have seems spare,
so they think back to yesteryear,
and suddenly link up as question marks appear,
as lost logic starts to become clear.
What I say will line up, ring alarms,
dislodge your corrupt,
I’m not out for physical harm or have you in a line up.
Telling my story, it’s written,
it’s just this,
come back biting poetic justice,
think I fight just fists,
I've wit and you're just twits.
Now I understand, I drop it move adjust flourish,
understand why I was discouraged,
putting truth on a perch, it ain’t perjury,
my story you got me personally.
and others won’t see the truth if they choose not,
but it’s there in view and now won’t move or be forgot,
so if people refuse they do as they do,
in time they may question clues and ask questions of you.
I’m done with it now anyway,
spoke and exposed,
my link to all this now disposed.
All I needed was to understand, now I do,
I’m a rose re-rose and roses grow,
with thorns that warn,
I’m done now, letting go.
And I’m feeling good too,
I’m living life, and I’m not you.
CALIBER:
Burn out the news,
If you think of it being new.
The talk of what I've been through,
Doesn't appear as truth.
It's a risky deal for you.
I'm seeing it with few,
To be an unimaginable conceptualised deal.
Back in our younger days,
Where we just trap to efface.
Something I never accept to taste.
People call me lame of shame,
For I choose to be myself in the game.
Smoking, killing, robbing never my aim.
Wasn't part of reasons why I came.
I get a different plan all the same,
With my red eyes picturing my lane.
Impressing nobody, fear not to be sane.
Go ahead and shoot me Mr. Sake of fame.
What gets me stronger is an undying flame,
Unlimitedly causing magnificence,
Born out of intellectuality walled by faith.
This citation proves my legitimacy on slate.
As I stand by personal competence to be awake,
To clearly elaborate minds laid on await.
At the end we all will be clinged by conjugate.
And our spines will elevate,
Causing a tremendous change to propagate.
No suicide, fratracide would be in minds.
And every heart will show some kind,
Only for that goal to be held as one.
When the table serve some wine,
We then say a good deal is done.
But hold on some minute,
Maybe you're actually not getting it.
Well, Some also might be lost to think,
Especially those folks diregarding this.
This is a reality defining who I am.
I don't go contrary to the norm.
That's going wayward or doing wrong,
Because I don't forget where I'm from.
And I throw no stones to those who conform,
To the system that corrupts.
It's their choice,and I'm informed.
In my circle do I not stay common,
Assertively taking refuge in a dungeon,
Protected by Judah's Greatest Lion.
On him do I forever rely on.
My strength and happiness,
Sourced from his greatness.
Placing me at the top to be fearless.
What then could make my life baseless?
I'm brave and earnest.
Withstanding against pellets,
Discharged to cause breakdowns,
Against my life anyhow.
In fact, this is really detrimental.
Yet, I modify it willfully to be topical.
Funny how the narration goes,
I don't care about it though .
I stay keenly to achieve my goals..
Strictly do I hate to oppose.
And thank God my ambitions is not disclosed,
For my worth to be blemished the most.
Yes,I'm Anderson Walkingshoes!
I'm strong, determined and bold.
Heartfelt light… falls gentle on my dew drenched silence,
When moon is fading beneath the silent blessings,
Raining through the moments, healing with soft expressions
Moments alive with the flames of joy kindled to birth,
Praying into the depths of grace, with faith beyond imagining,
Faith that is the greatest thing since the angelic wings…
Embracing souls with a deep and everlasting peace, serenity
Warm like autumn’s crimson chuckle with its own brand of rustling
From the songs who glisten with the stars, leafy answers
To the wind’s distress – the feeling like a flavor of tempting sincerity,
The abiding of truth in the glowing embers of an emotional storm…
One who delights in the flavors of stardust shimmers, reflecting
Hearts and souls, intimate as the darkness’ ghost – whimsical and fearless,
Listening to the rude remarks of pines and laurels who lust for glowing
Grace, enchanting as deep sapphire skies who breathe through
Twilight dreams, stunning as the fires from September camping like
Endless stories, the ones who never end because the last page
Is the most beautiful amen, the agreement to abide in the pleasant
Yes, indeed… amen to the moments when hope is extracted
From the fears and there is only the evidence of gentle in soul felt tears
Blessing away the rusty realization, the caress of an imagination
When yesterday was the peace, both quiet and bold…
Expressing the music gesturing through the melancholy,
Blending with rhythms of dancing leaves, the season’s abundance
Blessings, corn and apples, pumpkins in bold ginger
Expressions of the harvest collected by the moments in burgundy
Hazy moments, crisp and cool morning rising with the beautiful
More inspiring than the wonders of a summer’s soft kiss,
Chasing the winds of grace, like laughter in the soul, growing kinder
As the moments pass, outshining the moon’s glow and the spring’s show
Flowery and stunning, beyond words – yes, autumn rises
Inside those who know her as the exalting treasure she has become.
Hallowing the ghostlike promise of yesterday’s mesmerizing
The magnificent silence of God’s blessed peppering …
Spice of the season who is forever more wonderful than poetry
Could possibly portray, more like the spell cast by hope
Who knows that His love, His love is poured out on Autumn’s soul
I, a Red Skin dog, as some may delight to call me,
I have heard the tales of horror, from my dark skinned foes.
I have heard the tales of terror, from others who became my friends.
And I have walked with a dark skinned woman of their tribe.
We walked in the beauty of her courage, together. Tearless.
Tearless we both were as she spoke, for tears, only gods could cry for her.
I am a Red Skin dog.
And yet we walked together and we talked – together, fearless,
I and this swaying ebony sapling, sprung from the roots of my foes tribe.
We talked of the pitiless reality of that life she left behind, of that time
That she has left, far, far behind, like a useless scar
That has toughened over. And made her stronger.
I learned from this daughter of my foes
That true courage is never fearless, but always stronger. Victorious,
Stronger she was by far, to this Red Skin dog
Than the thousand sons who died, in her honor. So they say. Ridiculous,
But I have heard the balance of their sins.
And for all the tales I have heard from those angry young men, and their vengeful fathers
Her horror was a thousand times more sinister. A thousand times more callous.
Horror took up residence in her home but never in her heart.
But for others, I cannot speak.
“…splinters and bursting fragments…in my mind
Ai! Tearing! Memory of tearing flesh, swallowing tears and mucus, blood and bile
…bruising and ripping garments…off my body
…filthy, familiar hands tearing at my dress…
…my legs split and broken like a wild pig slaughter, my screams smashed from my lips,
With the butt of a rifle, just used to kill a Red Skin dog…
Aieee! Clean this floor mama, mop up this spew!
It cannot be mine!
This child is not mine!
It is not mine! It is the devils own creation born in hell fire!
Born in my death!
Aieee! I am dead, I cannot be alive.
I am dead and the Red Skin dogs have eaten my corpse.
Those spirits in their wingless chariot flew over the land and sea, to rescue me?
Rescue me from that black devil who said he was like Jesus to me.
I thought you were my uncle-brother…
Who else could have found us here?
Hidden away from the Red Skins and their Wingless Angels.
Only you my uncle-brother
Only you could have found us
Only you could have killed us.
And now the progeny of your evil deed suckles at my breasts
As I lie dead in the home of those Red Skin dogs you fought.”