Long Fortress Poems
Long Fortress Poems. Below are the most popular long Fortress by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fortress poems by poem length and keyword.
I have a wife, a son and two granddaughters,
I have nightmares.
A 'having' cannot be held onto,
a Keep, a Fast, a Hold, all are synonyms
for a fortress....
my aspirations crumble like ancient walls.
When I pluck a pretty wildflower
from a verdant meadow -
a momentary kiss of joy,
an enlightening ray of sun....
then cometh the regret, the withering,
a racing time outpaces any moment.
I have bad nights,
the dark always wins over any internal light,
I am transfixed, wide eyed looking at phantoms
that burgle my mind,
or do I rob theirs?
Who built this machine that
both devils and angels struggle to maintain?
Grace is doled out into my open palms,
and I must watch the blessing evaporate
before it reaches my lips.
I have bad dreams.
December 29 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Revelation 14-16
Key Verse – Revelation 14:7 Saying with a loud voice, Fear God, and give glory to him; for the hour of his judgment is come: and worship him that made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of waters.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR INSTRUCTING US
TO GIVE GLORY TO HIM
Praise be to God for instructing us to give glory to Him:
Worshipping Him worthily
Walking with Him along His ways
Waiting for Him by His watchfulness
Working for Him around His will by His Word
Wanting Him for His wonders against worldliness
Revelation 15:3 Praise be to the Lord for
His great and marvelous works, truly:
Good and mighty
Gracious and miraculous
Glowing and magnificent
Glorious and mysterious
Generous and magnanimous
Revelation 16:5 Praise be to the Saviour for
He is righteous:
Building our faith on His foundation
Battling for our fights upon His fortress
Bracing us against frustration and failure
Banishing our futility through His flourishing
Blessing our faithfulness with His fulfillment’s fruitfulness. Amen!
December 29, 2024
The borders fell like fever from a long-tormented frame,
No steel was turned, no legions marched, no decree spoke their name.
For when the node of silver wood began its quiet rise,
The phantom lines of sovereign pride dissolved before their eyes.
The ancient ghosts of territory, of fortress, and of crest,
Like winter frost before the sun, sank deep into the breast.
The pain that once had armed the hand and built the concrete wall
Was opened to the anchor node, unmetered, shared by all.
A mother’s cry in Sector One, the drought of Sector Four,
No longer stopped at checkpoints or the barricaded door.
The collective mind, in empathy, received the bitter sting,
And wove the ache of centuries into a single string.
Where once the barbed dividers stood to guard the hollow grain,
Now surged a tide of healing hands to wash away the stain.
The map of old Vaeloria, where blood-bought nations bled,
Became a tapestry of care, by quiet mercy fed.
No citizen was left an island, stranded in their grief;
The shared scar of the species brought its ultimate relief.
my four walls are invisible, they cannot be seen
but they are thick, wide and deep after all these years
each board, each nail, a sorrow, a tear, a grief
I hide myself within these self-made high walls
secluded, concealed, my secret refuge from the world
I am safe within my box, I cannot be hurt in my fortress . . .
my box, my fortress has no ceiling and I can see the azure sky
the falling rain washes over me, the wind speaks to me, softly
snow, I gather like a pure white blanket
and my mind takes me to wonderful places, far off lands
and my fantasies are breathless and beautiful
and I write poetry, pages and pages, fluttering away
oh my box is a special place where tranquility dwells . . .
but sometimes, oh dark the journey, I visit death
down winding roads and I am a beautiful girl floating wispy
my long raven hair flowing like a cloud around me
and I stand before tombs, tombs and tombs
and those beneath the cold earth come to me
weeping we kiss until the light of dawn takes me away
back to my four walls, my box, my fortress with no ceiling . . .
and when I must venture into the real world, I wear a mask
a mask of happiness, I can never let anyone see
the pain within, it would shatter their hearts forever
oh my soul and heart are broken for all infinity, this is written
there has been too much death, too much sorrow, just too much
you have no idea, dear reader, you can even fathom it . . .
_______________________
February 19, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/these four walls
Copyright Protected, ID 16-759-533-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Four Walls
Sponsor, C.T.
Second Place
___________________________________
Submitted to the contest, Second Place Contest
sponsor, Laura Loo
Seventh Place
O sympathetic 'spanse of softness
pillow fortress
surrounding me
requisite refuge
of my exhausted
mind, soul, and body
You shield me from
cold, caustic air
toxic atmosphere-
others create
so efficiently
out of anger
confusion and fear
So cradled here
in cushioned comfort
and infantile carefree-
nothing matters and
all things disappear
in my fetal reverie
Seeking, finding safety in
your quiet quilted cave-
with no more expectations
(I've no one to impress)
no more obligations
(relations are a mess)
I melt away
so willingly
in snug downy embrace
enveloping, wonderful
womb-like warmth
my consolation place
Nestling toasty
tucked in tight
half sleeping my life away
yet someday soon
I may emerge
and face another day
Oh heart, I can't grant you all your wishes,
Sometimes I feel for you, more than words can convey,
I hear you pounding at the gates of what you desire,
But my actions will be silenced, for I know a better way.
Oh heart, how I wish to secure you,
To build a fortress around your fragile beat,
So that nothing harsh will ever come your way,
No dagger, no deceit, no bitter defeat.
Sorry, heart, for starving you of what you crave,
Sorry for locking the doors you begged to open.
But dear heart, not all you want is what you need,
Some desires are storms dressed as sunshine,
Some people are lessons disguised as love,
And if I gave you everything you asked for,
You would shatter in your own softness.
So I will discipline you, not to punish you, but to preserve you,
I will teach you patience, when you want to rush,
I will teach you silence, when you want to scream,
I will teach you to let go, when you want to cling.
For you were not made to be reckless, my heart,
You were made to be resilient,
Not to break at every disappointment,
But to beat, to heal, to hope again.
So rest now, my own heart,
I am guarding you the only way I know how,
Not by giving you the world,
But by saving you from it.
Two houses sit side by side on a quiet residential street.
In one, lives a man with an unlatched gate,
always ready to pause his lawnmower
to ask how your mother is doing,
offering a spare hand when it appears one is needed,
or leaving a basket of fresh tomatoes and cucumbers on the porch step
just because the harvest was good.
In the other lives a shade-peeker, a shadow behind pulled blinds,
who measures his property line down to the inch,
grumbling heavily under his breath when an autumn leaf crosses the boundary,
starting his car engine, revving with an intentional roar,
building a higher fence
out of a quiet, lingering spite.
For years, the coldness attempts to stake its claim,
trying to choke out the light with petty grievances
and silent, harsh glances.
Yet bitterness only locks a person inside their own small fortress,
leaving them alone with the echoes of their own noise,
and barring the door from the inside.
When the real storms roll through,
it isn't the tall fence or the sharp words that hold fast.
The stubborn, simple kindness wins out every time,
outlasting the cold
and leaving a light on in the dark.
I miss her, Mother Egypt
and those friends I left behind,
timeless history, marvels and mysteries
etched in stone by her own scribes.
Longing for the waters of the nourishing
River Nile and surrounding seas,
the laughter and smiles of everyone
who once loved and greeted me.
Near the shores of Alexandria,
Abu Qir and Fort Qaitbey,
Where Cleopatra's palace once stood
in somber ruins, she now lays.
Near Pompei's Pillar and Roman remains
of columns and fortress walls,
white marble statues and museums filled
with antiquities large and small.
The sights and sounds in every town
Of a marketplace lost in time,
Selling goods from almonds to wildwood
And candles to clocks that chime.
In the land of the Eye of Horus,
the son of Osiris the King,
and Isis, Queen Precursor
to Mary, Mother of God, Creator of everything.
Cradle of Christianity and home to
Pagan, Gnostic, Muslim, Jew, sanctuary
where the Holy Family fled from evil
to a warm and welcomed refuge.
Where the mighty Sphinx and Pyramids
stand silent, proud, and tall,
in the salutary sands of time
with eyes peering down upon us all.
Temples of Luxor, Abu Simbel
and Colossi of Memnon,
Valleys of the Kings, Queens and Hatshepsut
awakened, alive again each dawn.
Mummification, adulation
of life and death and stars,
Constellations, incantations
and the wonders of who we are.
Battle tested, rarely rested
waiting for the next invasion,
of Persians, Greeks, Romans and those who seek
your immeasurable treasures unabated.
The ebb and flow of come and go
throughout your long, hard years
of growing seasons, rhythms and reasons
to keep fighting back the tears.
Yet never waned while fighting flames
of one invasion to the next,
while still your people smile and sing
with a yoke upon their neck.
In a land that never loses the allure or
enigma of mankind's birth,
where magic and myth still hold their grip
on whatever we think life’s worth.
Mother Egypt, truth be told, I miss you more than all your gold
and antiquities that survive,
where I once sipped cappuccino
watching history passing by.
Steve Rogers was a commoner, desiring to be a soldier.
After a few disappointing initial failures he got selected
for the super soldier unique experiment in the US military.
Vita-rays and serum injection made him strong and brave.
He toured the country in colorful costumes of adornment
during the WW II time in the fund raising campaigns.
For his patriotic endeavor during the national exigency
he was very proud to be designated as Captain America.
From a frozen aircraft over the Arctic during the war
the Nazi General, Schmidt, named as crafty Red Skull,
stole a weird relic, Tessaract, having an untold godly power,
that he wanted to harness to change the entire world.
Captain America performed an act of fabulous courage
when he could alone free all the distressed prisoners of war
by infiltrating furtively the fortified Nazi fortress,
built within the Hydra base by the notorious Red Skull.
To stop the use of the weapons of mass destruction,
Schmidt was attacked by Rogers inside his super aircraft.
Facing the disgraceful defeat and fearing to be captured,
Red Skull used the mysteriously powerful Tesseract to escape.
The energy of the bizarre contraption opened a wormhole
that sucked into it the body of the Nazi General.
The aircraft crashed in the icy waters of the Arctic sea,
the superhero Rogers was untraced, Red Skull vanished in space.
Leading from the front and facing the danger without wavering,
Captain America symbolizes bravery in physical and moral spheres,
conveying that valor entailing heroism isn’t the absence of fear,
but a reminder that true courage forges the might of a hero.
July 17 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Proverbs 16-18
Key Verse – Proverbs 16:3 Commit thy works unto the LORD, and thy thoughts shall be established.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR ESTABLISHING US
Praise be to God for establishing us
while we commit our works unto Him:
Delighting in His Word of distinct worth
Desiring His wants by His driving warnings
Deciding by His wisdom against deceitful world
Doing His will along His dependable watchfulness
Declaring His ways midst His deliverance so wondrous
Proverbs 17:3 Praise be to the Lord for
trying our hearts midst our:
Sacrifices, strengthening our faith
Sorrows, settling us upon His fortress
Stresses, supplying us His serenity-fortitude
Sufferings, securing us though we can’t fathom
Supplications, supporting us by His faithfulness-fervency
Proverbs 18:9 Praise be to the Saviour for
His name that is a strong tower:
Preserving our purity
Protecting us with His peacefulness
Propelling our praise-poised participation
Propping our prayerfulness through His power
Perfecting our personhood against perversion-pain. Amen!
July 17, 2024