Long Forward motion Poems
Long Forward motion Poems. Below are the most popular long Forward motion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forward motion poems by poem length and keyword.
Calm down oh beautiful one
Enlightened was the course of the dawn of the Sun
How come it was important to know
Who’s you are and what type in flow you are in
A legacy was all apart of this win
Abandoned your thought was the test at hand
Isolated from the past and the quickening of the sand
Sinking away all familiar thoughts
A brand new energy of giving thee a brand new canvas to win this bought
This bought you shall fight no more
Ancient reflections reveling your course
Now it has been won to bring back thy title
A seat well rested a royal shower
Built for a queen and a king to him or thy rank
Nothing or no one can cause thee to sink
Congratulations it had been so long
The orchestrator was waiting ready to release a brand new song
Beautiful amazing releasing a to thee
This is were you reign a final defeat
Protected revealed for thy forward motion
Riding the truth and sailing the ocean
To bring thee to thy designated place
Winning this battle has changed thy taste
Abundance prosperity and success
Out of a comma that blocked your royalty and mess
What test not remembering a thing
Just as a Super Bowl was won
Here is your ring!
No matter what you give
In this world which we live
It is never enough
But you hang tough
No matter how rough
Hard to do
When feeling blue
Look for a light
Does not need to be so bright
Look beyond the sorrow
Into tomorrow
Time is only something you may borrow
Today will past
Troubles never last
Time only seems
Like lost dreams
Lasting forever and a day
Standing still is not the right way
A forward motion is needed to to to turn left or right
The goal is never in the line of sight
When life is on the attack
It is so hard to fight back
Reasons to go on by
Another day to try
Perhaps cry
Cannot see what tomorrow brings
May it be always be the pleasant things
Everything now is give and take
So many decisions to make
Whose words are fake
Hard to see who is true
Nobody is ever out for you
So hard to keep going
Never knowing.
Are you even pointed the right way
Does not matter you wasted a day
A kind word
Needs heard
Now and again
Cannot remember when
Is love a sin
Can a heart truly break
How much can one take
Before you can hold no more
And hide behind a door
Refusing to rise from the floor
When life comes to a halt
Maybe not even your fault
You will become stuck
In the muck
No forward motion
Nor a hopeful notion
Life will win
That is the sin
Lift yourself from the floor
Walk out that door
Become something more
Up to you
So true
Fuchsia-flecked, rhinestone-rimmed cowboy hat
Embroidered boots to match
Silver spurs—slick, sharp, shimmering
Brand new, but battered beneath
Travelled far, walking the jagged beat
Where have I been
Where am I now
Have you seen my mind
Floating in sugary bliss
From the Journey’s Inn—
A haven for friends, old and new
Veterans of domestic arms races
Comparing wounds from the endless chase
For elusive, blood-drenched euclace
Oh, the cheap whiskey
Burns brighter
Than dead desire
Where carrion birds gather
At the corpse of joy
Bottoms up
Chin chin
Let the velvet gospel begin
Mr. Depression enters
A silver slash of sorrow
Sick with his own lore
“Fancy meeting you,” he croons—cold
“Looks like you need a bitter brew to hold”
Warm whiskey winds down the throat’s hallowed hall
Rattling the rusted lock on memory’s mausoleum wall
Have you seen me before
You might recall—last week, perhaps
Grumpy, frumpy, meek collapse
My garden of grace paved over with grit
Wilted and wasted in drought’s cruel spit
Crawling through viper pits and dens of bad deeds
I felt relief
Quenching parched desire
With earned fire in a glass
Oh, the cheap whiskey
Burns brighter
Than dead desire
Where carrion birds gather
At the corpse of joy
Bottoms up
Chin chin
Let the velvet gospel begin
Two stools to sit upon
Lost boy and riot girl
Pink Lady, Velvet Gentleman
Again and again
Bottoms up
Chin chin
They laugh at the tribute band
Silly show on a slanted stage
Crooked teeth bared
Yellowed with age
Chipped by rage
Filed by fate
Two AM—wobbling down the jagged street
Holding up the night’s loose end
Keeping everyone awake
Lonely bones vibrating
With resonating lust
Urban lamps flicker
Like my wine-coloured iris
And what are dreams
When fiction splits at the seams
Weaving tapestry from fragments
Truth in forward motion
Stitching reality together
Like Casper drifting down wishing wells
Pleading, plundered, pitiful
Unseen by those untouched by sorrow
But tonight
With my fuchsia hat
And bombastic laugh
Overshadowing grief
Once poured on tap
I grab it by the gnarled neck
Shake loose threads of regret
Into useful shapes
In bedrooms with velvet duvets
Oh, the cheap whiskey
Burns brighter
Than dead desire
We stitch our sorrow
Into velvet fire
Bottoms up
Chin chin
Let the velvet gospel begin
Open you hands to receive life's gifts.
Open your eyes to see life's opportunities.
Open your heart to receive life's love.
Let your energy flow freely
to circulate positivity and newness.
Open your channels to relieve
stagnation and stasis.
Keep the flow constant ...
Regulate your thermostat...
Constant energy -
Constant stream -
Constancy -
Steady flow -
Grow in fluidity
Tidal development.
No pools of sludge or slurry.
Clear waters of constant, perpetual
forward motion....emotion ....
Freeflow...freefall....freedom...
The momentum of moment
leading to magnitude of existence
and safe arrival at serenity.
Forward Motion
I have discovered
that there are two sides to myself:
one side good and the other bad,
with each contradicting the other
as to which way to proceed in life.
I straddle a split in the path
and face my dilemma.
The bad side favours the way
that is inviting and more enjoyable to weather,
while the good side tilts to the lane
that looks discomforting and, for certain,
less rewarding to follow with its arteries.
And so I struggle in the middle of the road,
which seems to go on forever,
and must decide which avenue to endeavour
with its subsequent consequences.
Which direction is right; which is wrong?
Voices compel me after the fact
to question my judgment
and to go back and rethink my decision,
but that is impossible.
Life is a forward motion,
and the past is just that, the past.
And the future! Avoid making the same errors.
—Life consists of learning curves.
As I grow older and hope diminishes,
I come to terms by accepting the facts
that my presence on this earth is not virtuous
nor overly ambitious and constructive.
Otherwise, I can pretend that I am Teflon:
no pain, indifferent, confident, like Rodin’s sculpture,
a piece of rock that exists—stagnant.
LARRY LaVELLE
i call myself the man
it is not a pick-me-upper
it ain't no do-re-me
it is just the way i feel about myself
i call myself the man
one woman still loves me after 30 years of experience in narcissism philosophy
she just shakes her head and smacks me in the back of mine
then she asks me if i want my eggs scrambled with cheese
i just laugh at her and say 'yes mam'
she smiles bashfully as i check her out like we're 16 again
oh she knows it like her favorite classic movie
i will find out how much she knows it later on tonight
the moral of this poem is....i call myself the man....
STUTTERSTEP STEVENSON
i call myself Bountifully Blessed
i was a bully's dream all through school
from the pulling of my permanaps to the sock stolen from my feet....my story was etched in autobiographical filing
my growth became stunted....until you picked me up and dusted me off
through your smile, i was inspired to grow stronger
from there....i was introduced to a New World through your eyes
as a result, i, stutterstep stevenson, was able to find my niche
look at us now....thirteen years of marriage later....you are still causing me to trip all over myself
it still make you giggle in the very same way
even since then, i left the right avenue of stressed
the moral of this poem is....i call myself Bountifully Blessed
POETIC LEFTY
i call myself unconditionally loved
papa strange had a firm hold on me
put blinders on my self esteem yes he did
unbeknownst to me, my usual appearance in constant continuum was looked at as defiance
i can't be me if i can't be myself
how the hell could i exist trying to be like someone else
it has always been comfortable on my street
every now and then some taggers came along and tried to redecorate
however all surfaced on this block was self-cleaning
the same smile was worn on my face when i greeted the roadblock rambler hello
somewhere down the line papa strange moved on to one more vulnerable and gullible
i prayed for that next victim to the Wonderful God Above
though it may not show in my solo forward motion, i am indeed consumed by unconditional love....
the highest peak for me is the element of praise
every disappointment is a gentle kiss from the most incandescent star
my forward motion stays inspired by the truth within the divine uplifting
to be truly blessed is to fly freely without the effect of meaningless outcries
instead of missing the ignition, i focus instead on the pictorial impact
with that inspiration i face the day newly renewed
the freedom that i feel today prevents my mind from being force fed endless fodder
the contentment i feel prevents my mental from being overtaken with life’s stresses
when the rhythm of time performs indecisive enactments in my vision’s ear, i brainstorm
each session is a thought provoking lesson, and the humbling is a necessary reminder
i take a closer look at how the gold converses carelessly with the silver
i take a deeper observation at how the sun cooperates with the moon
what i ingest is a phenomenal excursion into a magnificent quietude
the vibe of it all inspires a rare smile usually ever so shy
i wish i could take the antonym’s siblings with me
i wish i had a way to make them and their many relatives and offspring understand
however all i can offer them and whoever else are ornamental, yuletide wishes and greetings
as well as the most sincere hope that somewhere, someway, and somehow that i have inspired
A SMILE!
Jazz Horn
Now put your left foot forward.
Next put your right foot ahead.
See how that works?
See how the workings of these two appendages
Facilitates the outcome
Of one continuous forward motion
To where you’re going … in this world?
Welcome, my friend,
To this deliciously dark dish of desperate cravings!
Look all around you as we walk this stalking street.
See all the dark places.
Where countless lost souls huddle in bare survival,
And share the hot knob over a weak fire.
I can hear a jazz horn, way off in the distance there.
It’s surely there, and it reassures me I’m still living, here.
Maybe some words by Langston Hughes might be nice right now.
Please, my friend, do me the honor.
Oh, I see. You don’t have your poetry anthology.
And it’s dark too.
Let us then visit the old pawnbroker
Mr. Tattoo Neck knows the price for our private fears.
Piss puddles and crushed beer cans.
And an old used tire hanging hopelessly
By the cracked front window.
I see the world is one inch closer to doom since last we talked.
May we rest in peace, my friend.
Any murders lately on the street?
I hear the blond dish in Shire Apartments has moved out.
Black sooty smashed gum and litter of coupons and girlie guides.
Only one killing this week, my friend.
The butcher from 27th street; the guy who never talked to anyone.
His bowling ball is in the window.
Life is hard. It knocks you on the head when you least expect it.
I hope I make it.
I don’t know if some ******* will come in here and shoot me in the face!
I live my whole freaking life scared!
It’s ridiculous that we all have to be hostages to these evil people.
The city grows darker at night.
I have noticed it because I live mostly with the night.
The night is my secret lover, and there is no other.
The city is as dark as nothing in the middle of nowhere.
Something bigger than a final sunset is needed.
You know what I mean, my friend?
Here, I will buy you that jazz horn there.
You can sweetly serenade me,
And lovely night naked,
As we make love here
In the calming mad darkness.
Open the curtains and let the sun in
today I choose to live life, once again.
No more sorrow no more pretend.
Open the windows for I am throwing all
my tears on the wind.
I'll stand up tall and proud and share my
smile and acceptance with the crowd.
I am human and I am light, each new day
is mine to make all the wrongs, right.
Forward motion is the right choice
for there is nothing behind us that holds
any thing but remorse. The future is brighter
when there is hope, for life is not about
being tied down with regret's rope.
So come on life and hold my hand
for I am no longer afraid to live life
once again.
Out at sea, serene and soothing,
on a sheet of lapis lazuli,
a graceful forward motion,
kissing the coast line,
sailing at high speed,
skimming over the salty waters,
the breeze caressing my face,
filling the taut sails with power.
A short distance away
sunlit vistas, rugged rocks,
and white washed villas.
Afar a dolphin jumps out of the water,
above gracious gulls glide
foraging for food, the tasty sardines,
turtles paddle close, a rare sight.
I veer to evade a close companion,
a masterly maneuver,
a sense of elation,
beauty, peace and joy.
Let me live here forever
or at least until summer lasts.