Long Given birth Poems
Long Given birth Poems. Below are the most popular long Given birth by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Given birth poems by poem length and keyword.
why i took a chance and
decided to try the new poetry
dot com sight started off great
two months ago until i noticed
a strange mans face with
my name and poem completely
beside myself not a racist
bone in my body being mixed
myself half Italian Native American
and African American raised by
Irish aunts why i have given birth
to a complete rainbow tribe from
French Spanish Irish Somali
African Costa Rica Jamaican
Panamanian British children
and grandchildren just to be clear
this was just the description
of the man next to my poem
called what we need he was
bearded not to tidy white
caucasion nothing to do with
poetry at all scam i began trying
to remove him but for some reason
poetry not com desired to allow
him to stay i am glad i only had
one poem just to test the waters
clearly i deleted my account
with them my name user account
all deleted i began reading more about
poetry not com they are a scam unlike
Howard Ely academy of american poets
Baltimore in which i posted thousands of
poems that poetry .com sold 2007 to lulu
which went bankrupt this new sight has
absolutely no affiliates with the old poetry.com
with Howard Ely it was fraud actually asked for
my credit card information to remove this
guy they obviously added to my poem
the nerve wow very very eerie at any rate
stay safe on this web of hackers many blessings
Happy Easter Everyone.
My Poem:
What we need
what we need
is unity
in a diverse world
what we need
is to unite
who we need
is you and me
this indeed
is what we need
written by yolanda nicholsen
01.22.2024
Upon a vine
Garroted are the fruits of my love for you – dying,
decomposing as it perilously hangs from threads of –
projection, perception, rejection, prejudice, indifference.
Lack of respect, strangling - life’s force, decaying,
becoming butterfly dust upon the wings of Memory.
Memories of, thoughts of all that was good,
all that could have given birth to something great !,
adventures to come, experiences to be shared – cherished.
Cherished, now only refracted upon flecks of – dust –
memories of wonderful experiences, turning to rust
as time - and you – separate, distance what was,
( for me, in my illusions, in my deluding )
a reality that never was – what little existed for you and I.
I have shed many a tear – ache – and my heart will cry,
realizing - upon a vine, my love for you has to die –
a little each day, until you no longer catch my eye,
and the pain subsides, enough, that in relief I can sigh.
B. J. “A” 2
February 11th 2008
Alone candle light in the abyss of darkness
Yet words are woven in creations of your smile,
The sweetest words are those not said intense timeless
When in your embrace one melts to your unique style.
Your flame renewed kindle in sweet resurrection
Emerald eyes that glow in lust of perfection,
Can but dowse puritan thoughts with insurrection
Rebellion is kindled in this new affection
Fires of passion the candle lit the abyss
To burn forever more in the flame of true love
To melt in your arms with the promise of a kiss
The iron hand now firmly in the velvet glove
Love like this has never before been given birth
My life my love this is your awakened loving worth
Collaboration Between © Mandy Tams & ©Harry J Horsman 29/04/2013
Dawn greeted me with warm amber fingers
as Autumn winds taunted cinnamon leaves
clinging to branches where life still lingers.
Seasonal changes bring strife; Nature's thieves
steal Summer's foliage, and each tree grieves.
By noon the saffron sun mourned for those lost,
Ginger tinged leaves, riven before first frost.
Pumpkin hued leaves spread across umber Earth
lay in slumber. How I weeped in sorrow
for those trees who had proudly given birth.
They stand as headstones, no hope to borrow
for their felled offspring to rise tomorrow.
One last cleaving leaf drifted to the mire.
Crimson was the sunset, ablaze in fire.
:..............................:
September 24th, 2017
Autumn Rhyme Royal
Host: Dale G. Cozart
required words:
amber~cinnamon~saffron~ginger~pumpkin~umber~crimson~fire
"See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing
has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land."
Song of Songs 2:11-12
__________________________
All of nature is coming back to life,
baby birds squeak and flowers are blooming;
we have no more worries of winters knife,
the tulips and violets are bloomin'.
With gentle breezes the Lord sends his breath,
he smiles and his bright sun reaches our earth;
trees in hues where once they were bare as death,
a mother rabbit has just given birth.
Bees buzzing, robins, hummers' and blue skies,
the Lords has painted this earth with his brush;
slowly, dripping paint on the butterflies,
next he paints the flowers vibrant and lush.
Open the windows and go for a walk;
wander a path and find a pretty rock !
___________________________________
February 24, 2021 - Reprint, April 20, 2021
Poetry/Sonnet/The Lord's Breath
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1348-301-20 Reprint
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Submitted into the contest,
Your Best Sonnet This Year so Far
sponsor, John Hamilton, Judged 04/23/2021
Third Place
Infatuation one cold winter fell
like flower blossoms white to frigid ground.
The secrets that I’d never dared to tell
lay buried like the earth beneath each mound.
An awful truth so haunted me I hid
it underneath the softness of new snow,
and when I’d come to think that I was rid
of it, your love for me began to grow.
That love, like sun, shone fully; soon I felt
your strong desire to understand my heart.
You saw, when you had made the first snow melt,
the ground laid bare. . . it tore us not apart!
From sunlight, passion’s snow, and naked earth
was white spring rose I write of given birth.
A poem..
You had given birth to...
Your own creation..
It sustains life..
A poem..
The life force only you have placed upon it..
Amazingly created..
Within your splendid imagination..
A poem...
Delicately dances with such grace..
Joyfully sings glorious music to our souls..
Beautiful poetry..
An imaginative expression..
Experiences of life..
Deep emotions released into a lovely song..
Songbirds emmitting melodies released and captured by your creation..
Many..
Hearts opened with such inspiration..
By the Poet or Poetess who was once inspired..
A poem..
Once brought forth to life..
Shall always exist..
How old was I
when each succeeding year
each successive year
became each falling year,
each failing year?
How old was I
when each year fell away
as did each month and week and day,
both succeeding less
and failing more
resigned to fade out play?
How old is just right maturity
of days fading off
away?
Each calendar begins
with clearly given birth rebates,
succeeds toward organic dusk dark dates
of day and week and month
within a yearly life not yet quite fully numbered
but already fading toward some numeric memory
for those who remain succeeding
more than failing
through days and nights of fears
And faith
our wins outweigh
our flawed and latticed losses.
This Poem is dedicated to all those who have lost their
lives in Orlando Carnage in the hands of hatred and violence.
HOW LONG THE GUNS
How long the Guns
Would continue to excrete
Their stream of hatred and death
How long the innocents
Would continue to be the target
Of those
Who were born like humans
With the same sweet heart
Which beats and breaths
Similarly like a heart full of love
But now some of these have converted
Into nothing but the statue of stones
Which likes the sounds of killing
And hatred only. 01
From where this much of hatred
Has emerged
In such human minds and hearts
To convert it into a barren land only
Where grows the culture of hatred
Violence and death
On every branch of its thinking and deeds. 02
These very minds too
Were made by the same almighty God
Who gave us the gift of life and love
And of kindness and compassion for all
To spread love and peace
Benevolence and compassion
To sing the song of happiness and joy
Even when the darkness surrounds
They were taught to pray and sing
The Song of love and compassion for all. 03
Are we on the right track?
To give birth to such human minds
Where love has lost
Its ways and roots
To shape rightly the minds and hearts
So that these distracted souls
Have become heartless like stones
And try to seek peace of mind
In killing the innocents
Thinking that this the aim of their life
Or we need to ponder
On what actually went wrong
Which needs to change our ways and means
Which has given birth
To such unquenched hatred and
A life of death and killings and killings. 04
Do we need?
To call once again
Some Buddha and Jesus
Or we need
To change our upbringing?
By giving more love and care to our children
To bring back these lost souls
On the track of love and kindness
So that the world may live and flourish
In the harmony of peace and happiness. 05
Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpur India 15th June 2016
As the Bus with a sight, rumbled along,
Its weary cargo slumped, for the journey was long.
Babies in agony clung to wretched mothers
Oblivious they are without fathers,
Their only concern, to suck and be patted
By mothers who in gloom look emaciated.
With melancholy gnawing at me by such a sight
My eyes let the tears flow out of pity and fright.
A gentle nudge and a wrinkled face,
Was enough to build a case
"Ma pikin" said the old woman, "why you di cry?"
With a sight, out of the window I looked up at the sky.
I weep for the Wazizi who resides in mystery;
I weep for the burnt villages residing in misery
For the men brought low by cartridges,
For the school kids in Kumba and its villages,
Not batting an eye for the refugees in Nigeria
Who, far from home, die of thirst and malaria.
Oh grandma, don't ask me why I weep
For leaving in fright, my own life does creep,
For though I brood over the kids of Ngarbuh
My kith and kin still flee from Oku.
Just to starve under bridges in Douala
And sell their bodies in beer parlours in Akwa.
Why wouldn't I, for my brethren, weep
When under the sun, we are butchered like sheep,
Incarceration for the purpose of extortion
Fuses with degradation and extermination,
Has given birth to fear and consternation
Oh!! My once sweet nation.
Oh Grandma, please permit me weep
For even now fleeing, the road is still steep.
From behind and In front, danger looms
And for want of food, babies fed on mushrooms.
Screeching tires, spoke of our journeys end
And into uncertainty, we embarked, for which our lives depend.
©Temajung Michael T.