Long Fly Poems
Long Fly Poems. Below are the most popular long Fly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fly poems by poem length and keyword.
If I were you, and you were me
We wouldn’t have to worry
Salvaged by intergrality
We’d live a different story
Inside our own illusion
We’d share our personalities
Illusions aren’t confusion
Illusions make realities
I want to fly, a man once said
The birds can, why can't I?
They laughed at him you must be mad
Climb on the roof and try
Later his daring dream came true
Without that dream of flying
No flights we’d book to get us to
Wherever we desire
Illusions save me from today
Tomorrows petty pace
Continues in the same old way
Days walk across my face
No warning says that it’s too late
Or its too early to begin
If I’m in power to create
Our own prophetic dream
I’ll do my part the best I can
Gale winds will mix my dust
With yours, according to the plan
That is unknown to us.
I saw my sister the other day,
I was kneeling in church where I pray,
Bible beneath me, my hands folded,
to God my words all unfolded.
"Please God here my prayer,
please don't listen to what they say,
their lies they flow through her veins,
an angel walks with you by mistake."
She was thrown to heaven before her time,
over the years she told me as she cried,
that she was forced by a hand to take sides,
her dislike for me she said was required.
No one heard her whispers of pain,
No one heard her call my name,
She always saw things as I did,
Her reaching out had shut her lid.
Someday that lid will open,
I might be gone, I might be old,
that's what they're hoping,
like the story of Jesus hers will be told.
I ask you Lord to help her find,
the wings she deserves,
to help her,
fly~~"
As I sat alone
under a wisdom tree
I had special views
of life around me.
I saw mountain peaks,
deepest valleys,
and began to wonder
where would I rather be.
Birds flew freely over me
near a kite on a string,
soon I decided to be
a bird with wings.
Faced with a choice
of life without you
I quickly fled
deep into the valley.
And I realized how deep it is,
then flew my bird-wings
on top of mountain peaks
only to find how cold it is.
Twilight deemed,
and soon I became
night of darkness
till my dream woke me
finding you beside me.
I wish I had chosen my dream
to be a kite on a string
so I will always appreciate
the freedom to fly free.
October 11, 2017
HM: Strand Pick F Contest by Brian Strand
When everything threatens my very existence
I question my strength and will I go the distance
With every new phone call, with every new text
I wonder what crisis I’ll learn about next
My mother has fallen, my niece has the flu
My dog’s had a seizure, my head’s lost a screw
My mama is dizzy, concussion is feared
Anxiety rushes, a breakdown has neared
The job front is shaky, the bills mounting high
I so want to give up, I wish I could fly
Away then, away where I’ll never be found
And then, only then will my feet touch the ground
But that isn’t living and that isn’t life
And everyone suffers their fair share of strife
So onward I go as I center myself
And count all my blessings, I still have my health
Oh wait, there’s a message, results are now in
The latest biopsy from broken out skin
A rare skin disorder, a million to one
We’re sorry, no cure and now ain’t we got fun
I’m walking on eggshells, if walking at all
With every step thinking on this one, I’ll fall
And yet, something moves me, I’m not going to cry
But then, once again, I sure wish I could fly
Fruit Fly, Cockroach, Random Lie Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity sis-boom... bye.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, just like that, I am gone, after living out, like water up the spout it's all days gone bye.
Like a riddle, It's long, it's short, it goes by quick, after all, is said and done we don't really give a lick.
Chased the dream until I screamed, some attained, some elusive but at a price that is utterly too abusive.
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity sis-boom... sigh.
We just leave as we should because it's time, time for God's next trick. Rich man, poor man it don't matter none we have had our fill and our fun.
Next man up, fasten your seatbelt it's quite the ride, don't want to fall until it's your time to die........
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity... my oh my!
Everything true was just mere lies, some more, some less but lies nonetheless, deceived, distressed, completely undressed.
What to think, what to say, when all of one's beliefs are taken away, press pause? restart? reboot you say? It's all a bit late, it's all rather moot, wouldn't you say?
It's all very odd to begin the decline when everything seems strangely fine? It all weighs so heavily though on your mind.
Best not to think, just do! try to win each day as it's all anew. It's good, it's bad, it's happy, it's sad, my son calls me dad so I'm not feeling mad, just happy to be and, not, not be and to be as long as I possibly can be. Is that the answer? maybe? we'll see.......
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity... Please don't cry
For we die each night, Born again every day, take it or leave it, it's better that way. Take it!, take it, I say, try to make it just one more day, what more can one possibly say, but be thankful for just one more precious day.
Like the common fruit fly and cockroach, our life span is but a blink of an eye before we die, just minutes off the cosmic clock of which we have no apparent key to its eternal lock
It was on the eve of Sunday, November 2nd, 1834
The day grew dark and gloomy like it never had before
Island sounds in diminish, a hush befalls my ears
The community of Amhuinnsuidhe was about to enter fear
A Princess known as Raven who died in years gone by
Foretold before her death beware when Ravens fly
For out there in the Minch a mist will waft it's way
Azure skies will fade and turn a graphite grey
Periodic clouds of jet will shadow in drifts of gloom
The underbellies of the Ravens show, soon they'll share their doom
And on the tor she'll stand silently looking over her lands
Dressed in black, in her now greying ebony strands
As she turns to face the village, her Ravens circle overhead
Whilst the mist now starts to settle revealing the islands dead
Ancient burial stones now rise from their overgrown sacred grounds
Shadows from a forgotten past arise in ghostly abound
Cloaked darkened shapes slowly drift on their mists of time
Silent in their approach to Amhuinnsuidhe they'll undermine
Carnage will be their cater to avenge their Princesses death
To cast out all the living to leave this community reft
The above I read to you, are the memories of who survived
My ancestors escaped this day, and I'm thankful they never died
As I look out on the Minch, at grey clouds looming in the skies
My mind recalls words earlier read, beware when Ravens fly
This is James Fraser's entry into Constance's 'Among the Dead' contest
Verse 1 and I feel so empty inside
there's no better reason to deny
God's nature I'm his creature
And I can't fly
I'm not sure why
Chorus and the dove does fly away
And the dove does fly today
To the heavens through the Clear Blue Skies
Threw the party white spirals
For the dove does fly away and the dove does fly today through departed white spirals beyond the Shadows the dub does fly away
Verse 2 back to the person who gave it its being
Holy Spirit fall on me
Let Your Love flow down reaching me in mind
Comflow fall righteously fall on me
Reframe used to feel so empty inside
Often what I rage I Cry
There's no better reason to deny I can't fly and I'm not sure I'm not sure why
To the heavens through the Clear Blue Skies do the parted White Cloud
And the dub does fly away
Back to the person who gave it its being constantly reaching
Father God save us more today
Course and the dove does fly today
for the dove Doves Fly Away
Through the parted white spiral
To the heavens through the Clear Blue Skies
For the dove does fly away
and the dub does fly today
1/2/04
Reading words and arrange music by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
My desk was constructed of
genuine wood, with seat attached.
No, not movable as they are today.
Highly polished with an ink
well, as we used fountain pens!
Books? You lifted the top
and in they went.
We had leather schoolbags
that went below.
Later, when I was a teacher,
they were light as you see today.
Since I taught in the wildest schools,
misbehaving pupils used them in
fights,not for play!
At these times, chairs became objects
of flight.
To the students' joyous delight.
I'd dream of the days of yore!
When children were well-behaved and had
morals that counted ever so much more.
And desks were nailed firmly to the floor!
4/19/2021
The cage has been far too long
Heaven has been calling me
I want to break the door
And fly
This and that, more and less
Who and how, what and why
World of questions and quizzes
Distant from peace and joy
My final abode is waiting
Unbound by space and time
Without day and night
Away from sky and stars
Living with eternity
Beyond beginning and end
Free from illusion and fantasy
Neither concrete, nor abstract
Merging with the truth
Embracing the absolute
Not all, not none.
I will only be One
*** OF AND ABOUT IT ALL ***
Life’s so much a-coming or a-going,
With hours of waiting or flowing
From now to next
While we step about, hopefully blessed —
On a quest for things major or minor to cherish
In our sometimes to come. We sojourn thence
From this place over to a rushing creek’s edged cliffs—
To linger, to draw some solace, some rest…
And there, we see suddenly manifest:
The sacred red rose, growing
Near, beautifully on high,
Surrounded by the flames of our worship-full prayers.
Life’s a range of highs and lows waving
Aside the roads that fork and lead ventures
Along moss-lined knowns
Or beneath shaded canopies of unknowns.
Our searching, dawn-to-dawn roamings
Carry life’s tales of getting and giving;
Suffering and forgiving;
Ever grateful for living and breathing.
Life brings mapped ways that vacillate
Over ranges of changes; lessons
And puzzles; ideas, moods and feelings
Immersed in working and dreaming of someday
Realizing true love — wondrous, sweet.
From birth and learning to stand, to speak…On to
Old-age dimming our eyesight as happens…
Even to such gifted artists as
Edgar Degas, Mary Cassatt, and Claude Monet.
Yet, they went on painting masterpieces, nearly blind —
With God’s inspiration helping them to find
A new approach, perceiving and creating
With their Inner Eyes.
Life’s an orbiting
Between reality and imagining;
Between perchance and possibly —
Between the often said, “If-only’s…”
And the magical, “Look there
At what’s already appeared.”
Life’s a calendar of playing and celebrating,
But includes sad times and final wakes…T’is
Somewhat a dizzying dance of circling turns,
Of rounding passes for however long
Until that unknown day of going on beyond…
Taking our storied hours along,
Relating how we stayed
Alligned to God’s willed ways,
For the good of the All and Everlasting,
From our toddling time
To our leaping with starlit promises
To compose a delighting song,
Unfurl wings and fly —
Eternal
————————————————————————-
(c)sally young eslinger 11/8 /2022 - 1/12/2
Written to Bocchenini’s Cello Concerto in B-flat major
Thanks be to God…