Long Generations Poems
Long Generations Poems. Below are the most popular long Generations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Generations poems by poem length and keyword.
Eavesdropping**
"A good man is hard to find," my Nana used to say. I remember the day she said it, tears in her eyes as she carefully put money into an envelope for church on a Sunday morning. Earlier that day, she had been yelling at my granddad for what felt like hours. She was really upset with him, and I later discovered that my hero, my grandpa, was having an affair with a woman named Estelline Beckley.
“Ellie, you’re the only woman for me,” my granddad insisted. But Nana didn’t believe him and shut the door in his face. I was scared and confused by all the fighting and, in a moment of panic, I crawled under the table and prayed for the shouting to stop.
For weeks, all Nana did was pray, while my granddad busied himself in the kitchen—burning her cookware and making endless pots of coffee. Nana would often complain to the neighbors about all the “harlots” out there, who she believed had a way of leading good men astray. Even now, I'm puzzled by that expression.
Many years later, I met my mother's half-sister. She looked just like my mother, but she had the same fiery spirit as my granddad. It made me realize that family drama and secrets can follow us through generations, no matter how hard we try to avoid them.
!
Oh river of cosmos, eternal, immortal dignity!
Your ethereal flow bears the fruit of progeny,
you create, preserve, destroy, rebuild
transient ages in the timeless loop of universe.
Flickering amber lamp of life you light,
celestial powers in your gracious bosom reside.
You are the empress above the heavenly summit
dwelling on Earth's abode manifested in each being,
you nurture generations with motherly lullabies
you bend the bows of evil with your ferocious sword.
Oh Goddess! Torrents of wisdom and prosperity you pour
from sparkling oceans to azure twilight,
you drench with love this agitated world
when hope flutters in mists of consciousness.
Your selfless exuberance spreads sheltered arms of forgiveness,
haloed glittering incarnations of virtue for us
prevailing as Radha, Sita, Lakshmi, Mary, Durga, Kali, Athena,
for whom civilizations and Gods bow in ecstasy of salvation,
your greatness supreme permeates blending molecules.
Oh woman! Yet you embrace sacrifice and agony for humans
while your gossamer veil cuddles them with the elixir of compassion.
**Poet's Note: In Rigveda 10.125 verses, the Goddess Shakti is described as the supreme power of all cosmos that creates, sustains and rebirths the universe and Gods. Similar explanation for feminine divinity has been given by Lord Krishna in the Bhagwad Gita. The wonder of humanity is that such manifestations occur in other religions too.**
June 1st, 2020
BRIAN'S SELECT 8,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~Winner: Honorable Mention
If idiocy and democracy could carry the blame..
If intent and purpose were one and the same
If love and life wasn't such an uneven game
Before even a given name, it goes from whence it came.
If morals and law walked hand in hand.
If time and destiny weren't found in sand.
If emotion and words were something on which we stand.
Instead Doubt and controversy lead to mayhem.
If money and power only created beauty.
If compassion and understanding were the call of duty.
If chaos and exhaustion were rutti tutti.
If each step down every path was leveled up by fractions
If gifts and praise had no retractions.
If thought and empathy were contained in actions
If interaction held no distraction but this kind of stuff just never happens.
If information was in communication.
If explanation wasn't up for interpretation
If generations could just find the combination
Then a divine creation wouldn't be destined to obliviation.
If lessons and trangressions were viewed as blessings
If expressions and impressions weren't just suggestions
If a reflection and it's perception were never misconceptions.
But exceptions and questions are wrongly mistaken as regression. that they lessen? Disable progression?
If sympathy wasn't held captive mentally.
If empathy was done intentionally.
If our identity was restricted to serenity.
But this isn't reality.
All the if, and, but has presented me the necessity of questionability of many. Like the integrity of loyalty and the complexity of morality. All this fumbuzzles the hell out of me.
For the prosperity of this entity rest primarily with the ability to rationally see thru with fierce intensity what fundamentally makes us human.
Delusional Variety.
From the word 'born', she was made to be a queen.
From the weight numbers 7.7 lbs., she was born to be queen.
She was daddy's girl and mother's pearl, a gift to the world.
Not all queens are strong, but this future queen was born strong.
Although some thought her to be mean, she wanted to be fair to all.
If in this queen's presence, someone acted or spoke unapproving, she
simply stared you down until you wished yourself to be invisible. This
stern queen believed in and practiced 'exceptionalism' like none I had
ever witnessed, and tokenism had no place in her presence.
She pursued 'education for all', and 'full employment' was her goal.
She believed in hard work and earning, not whining, one's way to success.
Queen Grace gave her best and from everyone else, she expected no less.
Queen Grace ruled with an iron fist, commanding respect from everybody.
She desired that long after her demise, her people would enjoy the fruits of both her labors and those of others in her kingdom. Future generations would be proud. She had inherited a solid foundation from her parents and was determined to make it even better.
There have been and always will be those who will fix things only temporarily.
Many are opportunists and do just enough to win the popularity contest or the next election. Not so with Queen Grace, who seemed to have had things figured out the day she was born. She refused to build a kingdom on hay, stubble, and wood. On the contrary, Queen Grace labored to leave a legacy built of pure gold and silver. "She wrought her people lasting good".
"She wrought her people lasting good", Alfred Lord Tennyson
081322PSCtest, Difficult Poetry Contest, Julia Ward
Inner child wounds to condemn or condone. Now a part of me has never grown
Taking care of my mother became my role. Pretending to be a grown up took its toll.
As a child, empty just wanting a father role. Leaving me spent and out of control. Drained and plenty now to resent. Left with these memories. I wish I could forget. Never grown in the ways needed. Only realizing at 44 I feel defeated. Learning about myself in ways I never learned. Left with anger feeling torn. As a child I felt the abuse and pain. Left in silence once again with no one to hear. Left with my thoughts and fears. Unable to ever be washed away. Hurt that subconsciously lingers till this day. Long after the marks disappeared the scars stayed as a reminder of an unimaginable time. Left feeling like existing was a crime. Loved ones abandoning me lost and gone. I knew he’d leave all along. Yet again. Abandonment drew near. I had no tears no emotions left. Numb inside to forget. Left before I had the courage to speak the truth. Witnessing and experiencing the temper that left me scared. All the abuse that remained. My mother broken down again. Numbing herself with multiple men Obsessed with men that seemed to care. More than she was obsessed with me. Left there. For all to see. Innocence lost. Demons fought. Insane is what he made her be. Some of the inner wounds that made me me. Instability exist. A loveless home persist. As a child it’s do as I say, not as I do. To be seen, not heard. To bleed inside of you. Hiding what is true. I never had a mother. I learned to raise myself. As a child I was the one that helped. No normalcy. I dealt. She hid her mental illness well. Created through her trauma and hell. Missing hugs I never got to feel. Too busy in her mind for what was real. Left three generations later unable to heal. Yearning for things I never knew. I cared for myself and the numbness grew. I hid the abuse he put us through. Torment from the only dad I knew. Escaping the truth when he went away. I was only 10. I remember that day. Crying in despair losing the dysfunction that was there. Left with distant pain and grief. Believing all people leave when things get tough. Coming to the realization that my mom gave up. Now left with scars and subconscious fears. Growing out of these impressionable years.
Addiction is the compensation for something lost in childhood. You are not addicted to the substance or the thing, but it's a release from the trauma that you compensated with the substance and the addiction those feelings bring What’s crazy is
Most of our lives depend on blind faith
I was given some wise words of wisdom one time in therapy. He said, "You go to sleep with the unconscious faith that in the morning your eyes will open to see a new day." I paused and replied, "Holy crap its true!",
that means we all actually have faith built in even when we doubt we do. Even in doubt, you still have faith every minute of the day with every breath you anticipate that it will oxygenate, moving carbon dioxide from your blood to your lungs. This process is blind faith, aka body’s gas exchange Crazy right to think you’ve been searching for faith, and you have had it all along So when addiction steps in
That faith is skewed or barely hanging on So blame your parents. Just kidding they knew nothing more than what they were taught and what their eyes perceived in their own environment endured, which was full of fear, sadness and anger that unconsciously transferred to us the unaware and new baby who one day too, would be an adult now with trauma and fears without reason until they realize the reason was you. We only seen the aftereffects our caretakers were subjected to due to their upbringing where they learned to neglect, blame and shame not from their own wants but their surroundings, they too were emotionally enslaved and so on before them and all their generations passed too. This is how their trauma affects you. Addiction starts compensating for something lacking, masking an unhealed wound Pain that was never meant for a child to go through or bear painful feelings that don’t belong to you
Have you ever had a problem
That you needed to view from all angles
In order for you to figure out
How of it to untangle
You might have to remove the ceiling
Or take out a wall
You might have to do some demolition
Or simply reinstall
Some will try to redecorate
With some paint or a chandelier
But that just covers up the problem
And no solution has been made aware
These ceilings have got to go
So that now we may receive
The blessings that God has for us
So we can advance and achieve
These ceilings have got to go
So that we can progress as a community
For there is greater prosperity
if we move in unity
Too many people fail to understand
That their success
Must be paid forward so that others
In turn can be blessed
The generations are not passing down
Their knowledge nor any power
We need to be a fountain pouring into others
Letting our wisdom be a bountiful shower
Let these ceilings be taken down
So that we can help each other
God has blessed you so that
You can bless another
We need to invest time to love
And to nurture our young
To pray, to talk and to walk with them
Treat them as daughters and sons
To carry each others stuff
Thereby lightening each others load
To be a help and not a hinderence
As we unburden our souls
If only to give someone a Metrocard
So they can get to their new job
To help pay an electric bill
So that someone will have power still
These ceilings have got to go
We need to lift each other up
To stop throwing shade,
Stop the hate parades
And in communion to sup
To cease all the criticism
And stop tearing each other down
To encourage and empower each other
So the love of God in us can be found
These ceilings have got to go
So that God's grace we can now clearly see
To be like those 4 men who took their
Paralyzed friend to Jesus working in unity
A symbol of power.
A seat to show who's queen.
My place for me and future generations,
My life put into work.
A hope to show I'm for my people,
For them to see I am there.
My crown shines in the light of Ra.
Something I give in care.
My kingdom who sees me grow.
They show me love and grace.
I do everything I can for them,
to know that I given them my heart.
I am the descendant of the gods.
I am the one who rules.
This place is my home.
No one will ever take it from me.
My throne is where I belong,
My heart is in this place,
I am the true Queen of it all,
and history will remember my face.
In my dreams I can hear as they whisper
silent echoes reach out from the past
Everywhere that I go they are with me
memories in my soul they have cast
Many hundreds of years separate us
but through ages their forces endured
And although I may not see them clearly
generations can’t keep them obscured
All my ancestors live deep inside me
and their spirits can see through my eyes
All their thoughts are ingrained in my being
through eternity our souls are tied
Ancient scars are embedded inside me
evidence of old wounds still not healed
And although not inflicted upon me
all their pain in my heart, is revealed
You may think it is me you are seeing
and that these are my words which you hear
But if ever you did look more closely
you would know I am crying their tears
His light shone brightly, like a beacon on a hill
shining forth for all the world to see.
Boldly did he proclaim the gospel, the good news
the very heart and soul of Christianity
Jesus, the Way, the Truth, the Life!
He was a man of conviction, a man of faith
a man of integrity. A man whose words
lit up a fire, a stirring, in the hearts of the masses.
Words from God, Words from the Bible
Words inspired by the Holy Spirit.
He came from humble beginnings
a farmer's son from North Carolina.
Yet God had His eye on him
no ordinary man would he be.
God had a plan for this young man's life
a plan that he could never even imagine.
God raised this man up to become a
preacher among preachers
a modern John the Baptist.
His crusades packed multiple coliseums
the world over, as the words would ring out...
"Repent and be saved! Believe the Bible!
Confess your sins! Ask Christ into your
heart, and He will save you!"
And they would come...
I was a young teenager in the early "70's
when I attended his crusade in Oakland, Ca.
with my family and my best friend.
I had already received Jesus, but my friend
the daughter of a Baptist minister, had not.
But she did that night. She heard the call.
Yes, the call went forth mightily from
that powerful preacher, ringing out,
strong and sure, with conviction.
Many people rose from their seats
and poured down the aisles.
My friend also went down, and I with her.
The choir sang, "Just As I Am".
There were tears, there were praises!
I will never forget that night.
For years, he continued to preach the
gospel message all over the world.
He counseled many generations of
US Presidents, he met with world leaders.
He was truly a man of God.
Today, he finally met his Lord and Savior,
Jesus Christ, face to face.
He had said in the past how much
he looked forward to this day.
And the only thing he wanted to hear
from His Lord was this...
"Well done, thou good and faithful
servant. Enter into the joy of the Lord."
Today, that mighty, yet humble servant
Billy Graham, heard just that.
Today, he is rejoicing with His Savior
in heaven! Praise the Lord!