Long Gesture Poems
Long Gesture Poems. Below are the most popular long Gesture by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gesture poems by poem length and keyword.
Molly maid in her stand for kids
Rattled the establishments cold line
2020 she said its wrong to mask
Young srudents in creative time
There is no science to prove its worth
Yet much to tell carbondioxide grinds.'
The waste of the lungs drawn back in
To damage health.' Every breath each time.'
And but a ploy, a gesture only.'
Caused division, and made kids lonely
Also lockdowns hit mental health
Drove down learning, it seemed so phony
Instead of causing mass immunity.'
Mad measures worked against all bodily
Continuity, to weaken en'mass was all it
Could ' and to achive better its known we
Should, seek exposure as millenia have proven
Balance elements and vitality against each ill
For sickness will come and they will go, our bodys
Are designed to compute; the very best defence.'
Why (didn't we know.?)
I wake again, the sky still ash
Mostly soft, not quite the weight of lead
seen at five a.m; that god awful flash
of knowing there is nothing when dead
Here inside a room, trying to recall
if sleep or darkness shapes it all
Whiskey breath eats away my face
Oh good! Aubade… finally shows a trace
The afterlife sleeps in, it always does
Woken up in the usual way
Another drink, a top-up buzz
Lifts my spirits, just above dismay
I fumble around with unopened post
Get dressed, eat flakes, feeling like toast
Hope and despair make a meagre pact:
That life bears fruit, and breakfast lacked
I breathe, then sniff, try steady a hand
light a smoke, or slap on a patch
Gesture defiance, attempt to stand
brave it out past the hallway latch
Go search, or not, for what comes after
opt in, opt out, call on the pastor
Who's high as a kite on altar wine,
“There's nothing” he sobs, “or do you bring a sign?”
His eyes light up, as I offer him a line
And you know! that day turned out just fine.
A kiss is a stamp, a seal,
of the taking in of the essence of one,
two-, to steal of that goodly feel.
A bliss, a steal, a clamp so true,
A gesture pure, from me to you.
It takes in essence, of the goodly feel,
A bond so strong, nothing can steal.
A kiss under the stars, a magical rite,
Whispers of sweet nothings, in the night.
It ignites a flame, a passion so wild,
A connection that's untouchable, undefiled.
A kiss on the forehead, a symbol of care,
A moment so tender, that none can impair.
It soothes the soul, and wipes away fears,
A touch so gentle, that brings healing tears.
A kiss on the lips, a symbol of love,
A bond so strong, sent from above.
It seals a promise, an unbreakable bond,
A love that lasts, and forever beyond.
A kiss, a stamp, a seal so divine,
It marks a moment, amore-eel
electric frozen in time.
An act of pure giving, with nothing to lose
but a stare, can yet enliven, so there.
A simple gesture of the love of now, here,
but with so much to choose and dare, endear.
May 28 Scripture Meditations Based on Psalms 110-112
Key Verse – Psalm 112:7 He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, trusting in the LORD.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR FIXING MY HEART TO TRUST IN YOU
Thank You for fixing my heart to trust in You and Your ruling
With Your right hand of holiness-pulling
Against transgression-ailing
So that I can stand by Your gracious refueling.
Thank You for fixing my heart to trust in You and Your strengthening
With Your ready might of persistent faith-running
Against quitting due to waning
So that I can pursue by Your mercy for my learning.
Thank You for fixing my heart to trust in You and Your upholding
With Your helpful gesture of righteousness-treading
Against wayward lifestyle and backsliding
So that I can move forward by Your authoritative leading.
Thank You for fixing my heart to trust in You and Your teaching
With Your biblical standards of conviction-preaching
Against timidity and cowardice in out-reaching
So that I can win souls by faithfulness-stretching.
Thank You for fixing my heart to trust in You and Your correcting
With Your loving chastening of virtue-directing
Against laxity along slothfulness’ besetting
So that I can bend to Your will by Your truth-instructing.
Thank You for fixing my heart to trust in You and Your working
With Your great miracles of power-trekking
Against pride and selfishness that need breaking
So that I can serve by Your stewardship-making.
May 28, 2022
I. Lightning and Thunder
Warning this storm is about to overtake and have casualties as the words are being unleashed from a heart being poured out. It started off as a small gesture and then it grew into a large pile of rice tipping the scales. Now the time clock is ticking as the power is becoming visible. The teeth are coming out into a wide grin that makes the Cheshire cat frown. It makes the Joker die with delight. What can I say but it is you that have let the genie out of this bleeding lamp. Rubbing it three times as lead to the awakening of the beast inside of me. I’m hungry for a little lamb. The power of fire and ice with the massiveness of the earth and force of the wind is within my breath. The breath of the dragon. Like a fiery Carolina Reaper it will burn the weakness away. Like the temperature of absolute zero it will freeze the true evil on contact. Like the earth the breath will be a massive attack upon the weak fabric of ignorance and stupidity. Like the wind it will blow away the falsehood of your lies. You have awoken this beast and cannot put it to sleep. Welcome to the beginning of the end. For it is your time to listen and silence your voice. I have no love in my heart for you!
Fascinated with butterflies, he is charmed by these creatures' freedom-flight. My child, secured in his wheelchair delightfully grips yellow crayon. Along creativity challenge, he pursues artwork schedule while struggling against spastic restlessness... Soon with glee-filled countenance, championing his thumbs-up trademark devoid of bashful gesture he shows me his masterpiece: a glowing butterfly radiant in yellow he has painstakingly colored…
Witnessing his gracious achievement of gradual milestones, I'm thankful for God-wrought* remarkable changes, notable indications that he is “educable.” Why so? He was diagnosed to “progress toward retrogression” by his pediatrician more than a decade ago... (We then learned that she left earth, but that was another story.)
Yes, I’m beholding actual metamorphosis toward joyous fulfillment. With faith in the Sovereign’s miracle, I envision my boy in his functional zest like a butterfly that has surmounted infantile epilepsy --- now becoming triumphant over “global developmental delay.”
*Psalm 92:4 For thou, LORD, hast made me glad through thy work: I will triumph in the works of thy hands.
July 3, 2020
Edited on October 2, 2022
2nd place, "Chapter 1" Narrative Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Matt Caliri; judged on 11/1/2022.
"I should have lost a gesture and a pose.
Sometimes these cogitations still amaze
The troubled midnight and the moon's repose."
---"La Figlia Che Pionge"; T.S. Eliot
Que tan dificil es
decir todo lo que siento.
O! This emptiness,
this vacuity,
this unfilled mental space
not admitting place
to what does not pass
our tests of time,
or logic --
no crutches
in opposition to
unembellished fact --
no sweetened fairy tales,
no selfish constructs
to justify
seizing goods or power;
no promises of forever
nor of endless pleasures:
only bare existence --
"being" --
in this unguided,
ultimately purposeless
angst-filled universe.
And, always,
mere inertia, eternal resistance
or accelerating change toward
foreseeable, entirely predictable
end.
Act!
Construct reality!
Live your life.
You’ve seen my rage that can smite cathedrals’ steadfast posture
Exempting not that edifice in Notre Dame midst its antique feature…
May I remind you of hell-fire* in that place of forever torture
With restlessness’ angst and despair-puncture
Sealing the faithless in their doomed future
Midst cruel hatred’s defiant gesture.
You’ve witnessed my fury’s destructiveness
Revealed by the Notre Dame Church fire’s perilousness…
Such is just a glimpse of my fire in hell’s endless darkness
Where misery’s gloom prevails in blackness
Due to sufferings, despair, hopelessness
Leaving the convicts in their guilt’s fierceness.
You’ve beheld my wrath unleashing fatal empowerment
That reigned to haunt religious predicament and faith’s sentiment
Presenting a grim warning of hell-fire as everlasting torment
Expressing death's wailing every moment
As sorrows, anguish, woe wildly lament
With constant gnashing of teeth engagement.
You’ve experienced how it is to awakened by God Almighty
Now, reflect on this reality as I appeal to your spirituality…
My fiery ability in hell can be missed by trusting the Lord’s certainty
In placing faith in Jesus Christ’s redeeming security
He vanquished hell’s power with His sacrificial love’s purity
And you can have such assurance throughout eternity.
*Mark 9:47 …It is better for thee to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire.
May 8, 2019
1st place, "NOTRE DAME IN THE NEWS" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Rodrigues; judged on 6/6/2019.
I saw him before I saw her…(I believe she was holding the door.)
There was a far away look in his eyes as he shuffled his feet on the floor.
I felt a twinge of sorrow for him as he slowly labored past
Each step seemed so difficult…more challenging than the last.
I saw her next when she caught up to him and I thought how nothing could compare
with the smile on her face as she helped him to his chair.
She fixed his hair, she straightened his clothes with an ease, a tenderness…a grace
and as she tended to his every need that smile never left her face.
I did not know this couple whom I assumed were man and wife
but as I watched them endure the ravages of age I imagined younger moments in their life.
The moment hey first met, when they fell in love…when they lived in younger skin
I imagined them with friends and family…imagined all the places they had been…
A lifetime spent in love together was not difficult to surmise
I saw it in the gentleness of her touch…and in the sparkle of her eyes.
When our eyes met for a moment I saw how her smile was masking her pain
and I thought how the more her husband slips away…the more her love remains.
I believe when we happen upon one another…even momentarily in a day
from every brief encounter…we take something away.
It may be a look…a smile…a glance…a gesture from afar
that finds it’s way into our heart and reshapes who we are.
As I left my brief encounter and walked to my car in a misty rain
I thought about that moment…about how she smiled through her pain…
and though there was a hint of sadness as I drove home by the sea
it wasn’t her sadness…it was her love…I took away with me.
A love so beautiful…so everlasting…so quietly proclaimed
It made me smile when I thought of it…
knowing I’d never be the same.
somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands e.e. cummings
~
________________________________________________
" LV means Love"
contrasting winds which carried particles
of who we used to be
circled and settled. to fold into one
...becoming us...
that you are me...and i am you..
two hearts, one sun, one moon, that built a love
where twists and bends, would melt into one,
where eyes can't see where threads connect;
a solid rock, yet soft as feathers
where I can come to lay my head
and cast away the darkest day, the cruelest night
never will we understand
the shifts and strains of wayward winds
that whirl, and pound on fate's own door
the knowing why is not what counts, what matters deeply more...
is when I reach my hand to touch
this vaporous thing...impossible to define
where mortal words can not explain
nothing to see, nothing to touch,
just the faint breath of us
a dream, not myth....that final sleep cannot erase....
so sure this breath of life we share
is reason enough, that we are here
..............................................................................................................
For Joann's Contest "Copy Cat" My poem inspired by e.e. cummings poem LVII