Long Fulfil Poems
Long Fulfil Poems. Below are the most popular long Fulfil by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fulfil poems by poem length and keyword.
After all it is an observable sign of Weakness,
To want to control another man,
As it was all only ever a part
of, their existential plan,
We might then have had a different course..
So, but for now, as it is and as it stands,
We therefore need to face the facts,
And commit to a complete separation and Divorce,
At least if at all possible but with clean hands,
Of this contrived, diabolical and decrepit awful illusion,
To not be lower than, nor accept, their lying and ignoble brand..
With every single available breath,
Under no false impression nor delusion,
Of complete yet subtle ownership of Human life and death
To begin with came the stellar efforts of just a brave few..one could not deny,
Now an ever increasing truth, That outweighs the falsehood and the heinous Lie,
To rise and never relinquish your own sovereignty again - so then to fulfil..,
The Soul instinctively knows this for how and for what - to return,
That is our maker, God (Good) and our source, which is what we must relearn,
We must all “rotate” as it is - to this..
After all that is said and done
- it is his will,
Simply put.. never let up against the powers of darkness until;
As we emerge in victory for we never a moment expired our efforts spiritually and yet still..,
Just as it must be of our own decision and intuition,
- for us all, for me,
and for you,..
to know only this:
The Way Out is the Way Through..
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
[email protected]
During covid 19 Global lockdown and Plandemic
23rd September 2022
The PoetTree Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared
Quote: "Tomorrow's sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, but it will rise." Unknown Author of a well known poem.
As the day meanders by,
Sunbeams still stream from the sky,
With so many promises left to fulfil.
And a relaxed sensation lingers still.
Euphoric stimulations rush through my mind,
A pulsating tempo, urging me on to unwind.
A peace in knowing, what I know to be so,
I fret for the knowledge of what I don’t know.
Alarmed yet inspired by the sun’s sudden sinking.
The loss of this day sets my mind feverishly thinking.
A panicked realization, harshly jolted by twilight.
The day is ending and turning to night.
I watch the golden orb with its crimson halo.
Each unfinished promise must wait, this I know.
The sun melts into the far off shadowy hills,
My failure to complete each task, now gives me chills.
However, sunset’s glowing beauty of splendor untold.
I rest as night’s velvety blanket begins to unfold.
With a sweetness, and a warm tranquil overtone.
Knowing that tomorrow’s arrival is surely set in stone.
Is the ship
still in its bottle..
Have your lips
become dry,
tired from yearning.
Do you still wear
my sage shirt.
Are you still crying,
are all those tears for me..
Are you still reading the silent one?
Did you write me one last poem
or is your poetic garden full of decay?
Do you ever hear my voice
echo in the silence.
Turn around when
you feel my presence?
Do you call my name,
forgetting I'm no longer there..
Have you lost hope,
wondering where I am,
if I'm watching from up above?
Are you still hiding,
tired from smiling,
still pretending.
Has life lost substance?
Those shattered pieces of glass
do they still reflect regret,
is your heart heavier than a cliché
resembling fragments of stone,
do you look back at the footsteps in the sand?
Do you listen to our songs,
the ones we forgot to sing,
where I was the chorus
to the rhythm of your heartbeats.
Am I still your journal?
Does sunset still have meaning,
do you sit there cursing the Gemini moon,
does June still have a purpose?
In episodes of rage
are you angry that
I could not fulfil my promise,
do you hate me for being gone
blame me for destroying our dreams,
am I the reason you feel trapped?
Did you cry upon my grave,
place a carnation upon
the soil which has buried me
or do you never visit?
.... Do you still love me?
My life to follow the statement below
‘ Dream and dream till your dreams are not fulfilled ‘
EXACT DREAM sprouted from childhood inspired by Dad.
To study and being analytic to acquire knowledge
was Dad’s prime advice with parallel instruction
to be truthful, honest and righteous, not to be religious.
That was my exact dream and tried to honour
Universal Moral Values throughout my life.
I’m Mathematician and taught my subject with devotion.
In later life, I turned Professional Writer, Author and Talker.
Delivered several Talks in Radio, seminar, clubs etc,
choosing mainly scientific and academic topics.
One part of my Dream occupied Literature and Cultural activities.
I explored the world of Fiction and Poetry.
I fulfilled this branch of dream taking part in Music,
writing scripts, directing with stage performance.
I know, Recreations play vital role in Human Psychology.
In last phase of my life to conclude, my EXACT DREAM
still exists with this advice ‘Fulfil your DREAMS , acting Righteous,
and honouring Universal Moral Values of Life. ‘
The light that lights the sun
Shines within our glowing heart
Cognised when we come all undone
Whereupon bliss ignition within us starts
Eternal noumenon manifesting phenomena
Innate aliveness screen of awareness
In silence no longer an enigma
As light of consciousness
Light that from within radiates
Unable to behold it’s luminescence
Save through mirrors in stillness sedate
Clear light shines upon meditative innocence
Moon beauteous softens the suns bright light
Making the source of light itself envious
For the sun lacks as yet inner sight
Of its own luminosity oblivious
Fish in the river feels thirsty
How then may we fulfil its longing
Koans and parables dislodge serenity
Thus deluded earth entity keeps on weeping
Ominous darkness under the light of a candle
Illusion having no independent existence
Yet shadows get on mind a handle
Urging light to pay penance
11-April-2021
“Stealing our breath, you came down to us with angelic grace and you keep holding us under your magic spell” ~ By Poet
A precious little angel is born to us.
Our first grandchild, a bundle of joy,
Sent down from heaven, a blessing!
One look at her cherubic face
Made our hearts race in joy.
She looked at me with wide open eyes,
As if affirming a bond long established.
As if telling me, “Grandma, I am by your side,
To fulfil your yearning for a daughter
To fill the vacuum, you have long been feeling”.
With wonder and joy, we gazed at her angelic face,
- her tiny hands with long tapering fingers,
- her tender feet with cute little nails,
and her parted little lips that quivered to tell a tale.
Baby, you are fresh like the morning dew,
Beautiful like a fairy,
And fragrant like an opening flower.
You push your way like light seeping through,
Into our hearts and thoughts, day in and out!
Sweet one, we cuddle and hold you,
Close to our heart and thoughts,
And entreat God the Almighty to take care of you,
To bring pride and hope to your dad and Mom,
And hold the hands of your aged grandparents!
Remember, Remember, the 7th of July,
When seven explosions decided who’d die .
As underground stations were bombed into hell,
To fulfil the sick plans of a terrorist cell.
Remember the slaughter, destruction and pain,
And the people who'll not see their families again.
Remember the ones who are injured for life,
Who’ll carry their scars through a lifetime of strife.
Remember that people can be so pervert,
As to follow a cause and care not who they hurt.
Is this what's become of the whole human race?
The way some behave is a tragic disgrace.
We'll stand up for Country, for God, and for Queen,
And glorify all that is bloody obscene.
We don't give a damn for the carnage we cause,
As long as we think that we've backed the right horse.
Remember, remember, when London was bombed,
By terrorist bastards who sung their own song.
But it's not only them who are in evil's spell,
It's half of mankind who reside there as well.
Ivor G Davies
They have faces.
They are not just numbers on a sheet.
They have voices.
They are not without melodies, songs or poetry.
They have feelings.
They are not looking for your pity.
They have fairness.
They are not evil in their deeds.
They have hope.
They are not without a dream.
They have thoughts.
They are not just dumb machines.
They have families.
They are not without long history.
They have minds.
They are not the fools that you perceive.
They have honour, they have pride and dignity.
They are not poor of kindness just poor of money.
They are people, trying to live together peacefully.
They are people not drones or slaves to fulfil your greed.
A dream is a gateway to the core of the heart.
A dream can change life; for the good or slowly rip it apart.
A change in your life can change all of your dreams.
Imagine if fate could control the destiny of dreams?
Can fate steal the dreams held deep within souls?
Will it feed off our dreams until nothing is whole?
A change for the good, a change for the bad.
Know one really knows what is happy and what is sad.
Live to fulfil dreams, live to embrace your heart.
We have so much to give why do we tear ourselves apart?
Life is a privilege bestowed on us few. So why do we hate and why do we kill.....that's right yes, me and you, me and you!
We live in the shadows of each others lives, we see strange faces through life hardened weary eyes.
For all of the good that resides in you now, the flip is so easy for good to fall foul.
As life stumbles on through love we find strength.
The kindness of strangers is pure humanity itself.
...and the wind..!
was,
electric.
there was water..!
there was sun..!
...it was all renewable...
the energy,
powered,
sustained,
life..!
Fossil liquids burning
emitting toxins
that was OUR mistake.
From the day a human kick started
wound up the first combustible engine..!
The first spill in any ocean
should have been our clue.
It was what cigarettes was to lungs-
-what alcohol was to brain cells.
It was a human error,
a human error so huge
that like a mythical dragon
assumed a life of its own
consumed the will
the power
the limited minds
of limited men.
Unlike the giant beast
veiled as nuclear power
with its unlimited potential
that would have wooed the minds
of the greatest among us,
oil from its inception
had the smell of destruction on its breath.
It would in its own way
fulfil the prophecy
the world would end
with a whimper not a bang.
We saw its horns
its bright red skin
its pitch fork
but we signed up willingly
...and from that day on
our eternal souls were damned.
24~10~2014