Long Forwarded Poems
Long Forwarded Poems. Below are the most popular long Forwarded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forwarded poems by poem length and keyword.
My face is pretty many people say but what good is a pretty face when my life I live in vain.
No purpose in life but to take up space.
My life is a complete waste.
But please don't say it's my fault, please don't say I did not try for that would be a lie.
I gave it my all but each time I would fall no matter what I did I always fail at the end.
I've been cursed since my birth oh what a blessing it would be if my soul never came to be on this earth.
What could be worst then not having any self worth?
I have been hurt so badly if you stand near me you too may feel may pain.
So little in life there is to maintain my brain I am very much surprised that I have not yet gone insane.
What am I to do now?
Where am I to go?
Time sweeps by so quickly yet I look forwarded to nothing the next day holds.
I wait patiently for something good and new to unfold.
However I do not know how much longer I can stand out in the cold.
I am so very much along and have no one to turn to for help I tried yelling at those who pass by, but they do not hear my cries.
Perhaps they are just blind or perhaps I am just not see-able.
Look at me now and tell me am I invisible?
Sometimes I think this to be the case and I look in the mirror and see my pretty face and shake my head.
Why must I feel like the living dead?
Why must my life be in vain?
I ask myself these questions but no answer do I obtain.
I try to change my life for the better but it always seems to get worst.
Some say it's a curse...but I believe it is just my life.
Strife, Pain and Loneliness seem to be my only pals but I hate them and wish they where not around.
I hide from them but they know I am too easily found.
I wonder what happiness is like?
Is it really as good as they say?
It's hard for me to remember the last time I felt that way...
Day by day my life goes by nothing but emptiness fills my heart and mind.
What a unkind world I live upon it's a wonder that I'm still here.
My fears I have many but my friends I have few so who am I to turn to?
Will you hear my cry?
Will you come to my aid?
Will you be the one to stand beside me and feel my ever growing pain?
If you do then I must thank you for being so kind for it may not change the entire world but it would surely change mine.
It was you oh Lord
Who felt the pain
The likes of which
I could never endure,
For this vessel is weak
And I would certainly fail
Of this, I can be sure.
For you alone
Were meant to suffer
For a sinful world to see,
Oh what compassion
You must have felt
To give your life for me.
So as I close my tearful eyes
The Holy Spirit carries me away,
To that passionate moment
In our world’s history
To see what transpired that day.
I see throngs of people
All lined up
Along an ancient cobbled road,
And in the distance
There comes a beleaguered man
Carrying a heavy load.
He is hurried along by Roman soldiers
Who taunt him with their swords,
And it is obvious to see,
Who this tormented man is,
It is my beloved Lord.
For he is battered and bruised
Far beyond the capacity
That we humans were meant to endure,
And it was the pain in his eyes
That made me realize,
How strong his love was and how pure.
His muscles now burned with intense pain
As if pierced with a sharp hot dagger
Yet, he continued on with determination
But now, with a marked stagger.
That which was great beads of sweat
Was now blood that freely flowed
Down his face
As he came nearer to the place
Where he would pay the price
That we sinners owed.
He was nearing the point
Of total exhaustion
As blood streamed down his face,
The result of a painful crown of thorns
Placed there with intent to disgrace.
He no longer heard the jeering crowds
Or the foul insults they delivered,
And bravely continued his agonizing journey
On swollen bloodied legs that quivered.
He hung his head low
To avoid the rays
Of the intense afternoon sun,
And struggled on
As he heard his father’s voice,
“Your nearly there son, it’s almost done.”
As the procession reached the hill
Known then as Golgotha
And now known as Calvary,
I could hear her shrilled cry
It was our Lord’s mother, Mary
Calling out an impassioned mother’s plea.
Then for reasons unknown
This vision fast-forwarded
To the moment
When our lord gave up the ghost,
And perhaps the point was plain that,
“True sacrifice involves pain and,
It’s His death on the cross
That we should remember the most.”
Written by
Lewis, Y.K
“Knowing what one is today was decided by one’s choices made yesterday”. Author Unknown.
My heart aches, of loneliness of saying goodbye. Wanting one’s other half, but at what cost? Stolen moments, only remind you that they are just that stolen. Unable to return to sender. How can you give love back, was it ever that? Or a lustful act of an immature heart of a young girl. Still, she feels it today just as yesterday. Intimacy, as pen to hand, hand to paper, paper to ink. That is handled with care, every stroke of the hand that danced along the lines of this page. Feeling the connection of the touch, softly, caressing finger tips gripping the pen, as the rod of his body. Back and forwarded, is her hand, each stroke of each word every letter in every sentence.
So caring, softly touching, his face still all are just that stolen. Unable to erase it, because the ink has stained the paper, unable to forget this, unable to be more than just those moments. Realizing that he was never meant to be yours. My, breath is shallow, my joy is gone. I once said I would give up the past, I didn’t mean him. Fate has her own plans for me. I forgot what I was told in the “LIGHT”, when I was in the dark. Darkness is always easily found. This time, I will be obedient and take my Father’s lead. Once, I didn’t listen and I paid the cost dearly. With sorrow, pain, unhappiness, abuse, sadness, and loss. The price was higher than I imagine, unknowingly I had also enlisted the innocence as co-signers, for my disobedience.
Traumatic, to endure the loss of a child. So tragic is my story. Being with child, not one but two, so beautiful to me. One is taken in such a violent way, I knew I must be dying. So much blood in this small space. Fear has taken me. Coming home in this drug induced haze I slept. To my surprise one remained, untouched by this cruel act. I heard the closing of the door, as I was awaken by the sound. I walked, into that small space to find that a towel was placed over my child. Unable to see clearly so many tears, I harden my heart with a determination to get through this. I, lovingly removed my child’s remains from the floor of that small space.
Born to different fathers they were never that close
But their mother insisted they keep in touch
They never had much in common apart from the love for their Mum
One was drawn by the magnetism of corporate trappings
The other mesmerised by wailing guitars and thrashing drums
Hair looking like a ruby ball cactus, eyes wild and piercing
Did he land face first in a tackle box? No one can be sure or is game to ask
Whilst Prada adorns the chiselled body of the astute looking banker
Clean cut freshly shaven with a healthy amount of Giorgio Armani evident
Hours of pain are clear to see on the colourful skin of the punk rocker, all with a story I’m sure
Many a brow is raised and resembles a plague of fox moth caterpillars at a rave party as he enters
In the up market drinking hole he’s as inconspicuous as a free roaming Emu in a supermarket
White collars fill the air with murmurings of big deals achieved and salary bumps
It’s a Friday afternoon and an air of animation is evident in the words of many
The banker orders another round; more beer and water promptly arrive
Concern is forwarded to his brother fearful of him falling in with the wrong crowd
Genuine unease for the circles of friends in which he chooses to associate with
Party drugs, binge drinking, womanising and all night benders all entrenched in his everyday life
Why can’t you just go home to your wife baring flowers like you used to he asks?
A grunt is all he can muster as he swills on his beer, your losing touch with reality!
And then like a boxer waiting for his opening he hits him with a sympathetic plea for more money
A look as if his team had just lost the “Big One” with seconds remaining decorates his face
I can’t keep doing this he replies; He then calls their Mum “it’s time for intervention!”
The ink covered rocker is in tears as his brother embraces him; I love you he whispers together we will get through this
He escorts him to his private limousine waiting out front
One of the many perks of being an internationally acclaimed artist.
My manager knows this great facility…..
Tears of such just this a random thought
Sadness or joys for the fleshy beating heart
Unseemly unseeking I'm not looking straight forward
Lamented chess piece ivory casted glass on the board now
In seeking my forwarded righteous mind now
Singled Godly unruly unholy
Where to buy to go around now to ask and wait process
Sets the scales of written text I'm blessed or cursed onslaught
To the point of giving transfer voluntary unexpected transfer yields
Yet the premise my emotional heart hardens I sieze take abruptly suddenly
Intense is mine hearts mind feelings of deepest affection intense joy
Turn yet the premise my feelings unguarded intent ardor passion sexual only desire
Surrender submission I to are equal higher power giving up easing all resistance
Too the point of taking deep darkening control commanding prevails
Embrace affectively close hold are minds arms in acceptance I support you
To the point of taking the unagreeable positions such side variant
In truths I am stated candor honesty genuineness validity
To the point of untruths entertain assertions decitful demoralized
Just so to avoid an punishment
Come us so together as a family a unit humbled by are Father's heart
Abuse, abated non comforting evasive indifferent
differences sense of separation tears of such
Just this random thought ROTATED consciousness POLARITY
My givings I shall bless you versus my grabbing you don't need gimme that
My love in deems so true agape sure versus lusting sexually only
My surrender submission for holiness do diligence
Cast me not domination over others
My embracing those the hearts ceasing war gathered and ending strife
My truths in me instilled in my soul by my Father God
My lies from someone's father the devil
I speak life gathering of all God's people all His Children
I rebuke all unwarranted senses of separations
In Jesus name
The only part of ROTATED Consciousness POLARITY I want
Is the JUST QUALITY OF JESUS HEART
11/8/22
FOR Rotate Consciousness POLARITY Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Diamonds are a dangerous commodity.
Topaz brickettes pave lost roads
for the unfortunate paths
of bewildered Dorothy's
(and misguided second-removed cousins).
The birthday cards
I send myself,
are never returned to sender;
they're forwarded to you.
Rubies are ominous and a crucial burden.
Red. A vibrant statement.
Look at me! I'm red!
Quite a pathetic gemstone.
(Dorothy - you need to re-dye your slippers).
The birthday cards you've sent me
are now forwarded back to you.
Diamonds and rubies
are dangerous commodities.
Quartz tickles my fancy.
Limestone abandons my will.
Emeralds? I visted that city; once.
The PO Box for my re-routed
birthday cards are registered there.
My second-removed cousin
tiles his palacial floors with them.
Diamonds, rubies and emeralds are
dangerous commodities.
Sapphires are worthless crackerjacks.
Amethyst is a word that
(half the population of Idaho can't spell).
A Rock of Gibraltar. The man you needed.
The dupe you wanted.
The patsy who refrains from
visiting your morosed petting zoos.
The gemstone you suckle?
Who is it?
No!
I'm not your diamond;
sweetheart.
Hardly, am I your ruby;
cupcake.
Perchance, an emerald?
Doubtful!
Quartz, limestone...a sapphire?
You orchestrate personal deaths
upon the metallic
bands around your rhenoid fingers.
A gemstone I'm not a part of.
Being there -
I was the part of your life
that was accidentally flung over
rusty-coat hangers
stuffed in moth-ridden closets.
I was the gemstone
that never glossed
your fancy fingers.
Diamonds?
Emeralds?
Rubies?
Sapphires?
Quartz?
Limestone?
No...pumice;
my love.
Understand, pumice doesn't sink!
I'll pop back into mischievious
blackened-hearts anytime I please -
and you will welcome me for
a sincerity that warrrants no appraisals.
However,
my utmost truisms sparkle
decadent- bright
like diamonds -
a dangerous and rare
commodity.
.
Memorial Day 2025
Soon Memorial day will be upon us once more,
And unhappy memories of the past will be excavated again.
My younger Brother was a highly decorated soldier
rising to the rank of Master Sergeant in his twenty-three years.
He did four tours in Vietnam and each time he came home
I could see a change. After he retired he just drove away
from the house one evening and never returned. For thirty
years family searched the internet, contacted the Army and once
after a family death we had to send our letters to them
and they in turn forwarded them to him for his signature.
We had no family problems or ill will at all. He abandoned
his family and his four children also. He just chose to
live alone for whatever reason. Only God knows why.
Another brother who had cancer couldn’t sleep one night
and thought he’d search one last time. He found his name
in the obits where he had died that week and was in a
mortuary in Texas. I contacted them and was told
he had a power of attorney and would give her my number.
She did call and I assured her that we wanted nothing that he had,
Just his ashes to bring home to the family plot. She first
said it was a go. We made plans to leave the next morning
but she called back and said after talking to her man he said
no and ditched his phone. She said his wishes were to be cremated
and ashes scattered on another soldiers grave.
I had shadowboxes made for his children as well as self.
But I tell myself there are tens of thousands of cases like this
or worse. I don’t know why things were like they were. War is
about self preservation. A soldier can’t undo, or unsee, or forget
the stench of war. They do the things they’re told to do in
defense of this great country. This Memorial day I will be
mindful, That “all gave some, Some gave all.”
Tom
ATTENDANT
at night i thought
dawn problems are plight
the weaken immunity could not fought
the pain aggravate
i dream what i will tell u my sentiment
but that is gossip
at the morning i inspire to see ur cool lip
shy but my interest hazy and my mouth shut up
what is the secret behind what is up
the way you touch my arm
the word you made to calm
the advice you forwarded you are welcome
i told my sickness to doctore
he took my history but could not cure
the reason why is you are
he simply discharge and refer
take it to evalaute me here it is the paper
the route you take care
obstacles flare
you are my gift for ever
come on my sweet
you are endowed for me to treat
you are my doctore naturally with ur natural redempt
i am your patient
you are my attendant
Browsing the three dailies of T&T,
All I see are front pages covered with bloodshed, turmoil and misery.
Where is the country I once knew?
The multi-cultural twin island state:
Where one can go out and not be concerned about the time he shall retreat,
Send his kids to a birthday party and know by night they would be returning with many treats,
A place where loud explosions can be heard at New Year’s or Christmas and know they are
simply in commemoration of these festive occasions,
A nation that can acknowledge each other with a glance and a smile,
Sometimes exchanging a few words of direction when someone ends up on the wrong aisle.
With the passage of time this peaceful atmosphere has changed,
And for that a spate of criminal activities has been exchanged.
Now I see my people crying out for attention,
Resorting to desperate measures to ease their mounting tension.
So they sprint to kidnap and kill,
For they think that producing chill would pay the bill.
But little do they know that the plans they concoct
Could have also been implemented to another situation to make a legal buck.
It seems that patience has departed from our people’s vocabulary
And life is now being dominated by a blue periphery.
What happened to Sparrow’s “Education is a must,”
And Gypsy’s “Little black boy” that earned him gold dust.
Their messages were meant to be forwarded to future generations
Not buried with the public’s abominations.
These two songbirds highlighted the consequences of illiteracy,
Yet some people disobeyed and opted for anarchy.
Now that our country has entered a phase of endless confusion
The leadership is under attack for its lax disposition.
While it would be fitting to place all the blame on the past and present government
It’s about time some parents took responsibility for their children’s detriment.
Taken with a pinch of salt
Invisible to the naked eye
Should you wish to be unique
Bare your soul be exposed stripped
of flesh down to the naked bone
Stand alone and out from the
robotic crowd marching in
synchronicity
Depth and truth is what you seek
Then be prepared as more often
than not
It's stark and bleak and afterwards
can not nor never again be taken back
thereafter
So too likewise are the consequences
of being woken up in a state of panic
Wondering where the world you once
new has gone or ever was
What in fact now the future holds in store
As friend's are few now that you have
crossed over the great river of divide
And sadly the grass is not as green as it appeared at very 1st glance
Unique in simple terms is having the
ability or being able to look at
something from your own perspective
From the outside in and seeing it
for what it actually is
And not what other's want
you or need you to believe it is
So best at least you be forwarded
of the danger and the pitfalls
Uniquely ostracized , criticized ,
persecuted , lambasted labeled
deemed abject
And when all is said and done all
that you have and are sadly left with
afterwards is you yourself what you
know
Being sneered at by a waiting seating
you then condescendingly saying
Your usual table Sir party for 1 dinning
alone again I see
You know the type of passing
comment that a human droid would
say thinking it to be found a witty retort
As apposed to a sarcastic person who
is able to think outside the box and
instantaneously reply
Yes i am ever sorry but I took your
wife out yesterday and your mum
was busy today
A perfect example of what distinguishes
the truly unique from most other's