Long Glorified Poems
Long Glorified Poems. Below are the most popular long Glorified by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Glorified poems by poem length and keyword.
What matters most to me
is to recognize that I am “made
in God’s image” and as such, I realize
the need to live according to His design
for my existence, thus: here am I with all:
my heart grateful to the Almighty
for His breath bestowed
my soul blissful in praising the Lord
for life everlasting endowed…
my faith clinging toward glorious
heavenly exaltation of His name forever
my hope cleaving to divine
assurance of dying never…
my body anticipating to be transformed
to a glorified personality, always radiant
my spirit revived for immortal exuberance
exuding triumph so vibrant…
my commitment for reaching-out passion to be
rewarded along the Master’s compassion
my devotion to ministerial endeavours
commended with accomplished mission…
my family worshipping together midst loving partnership
wrought by the Saviour’s relationship
my GOD leading me as I enjoy His fellowship
while He blesses my faithful stewardship.
chemistry confounds me
how can it be
that one person
can be seen by others
so very differently
What makes the difference?
One sees sinner
the other sees saint
how can this be
it's a mystery to me
I see someone whom I love
being reviled
and someone who is vile
being glorified
why is there chemistry with some
While others show only apathy
I don't understand
you see, how can people look at me
so differently
one sees a flower
another a thorn
one sees a gem
another a stone
one sees a little girl
another a seductress
one sees a hurting heart
another a vengeful villainess
explain this enigma to me
I'm still just ME
what makes the difference?
Oh...now I see
the eyes see the same image
but the heart is the interpreter
and those who see the beauty
and those who see the beast
are merely seeing
what is peering out at them
from the very depths
of their
own
hearts.
Eileen Manassian
Gone were the remains of the castle I had built
with the silvery sands of all my dreams dormant,
at the bleak bottom of the breaking waves rolling
in the squally sea of gripping sorrow submerging.
Emerging dazed out of the distressed pile of debris,
I faced the plateau of my pensive life gone fallow.
Aspirations flew on imagination, and I grew wings,
soared on the silver-lined cloud in the seamless sky.
A golden nest in far thicket someone made for me,
with a sense of proud success I entered enthralled.
It turned into a cage, I couldn’t spread my wings,
confined with stifled hopes, I forgot how to sing.
The air whispering spring sonata didn’t reach me,
incited I broke open the cage to flee from the trap,
escaped the captivity of glorified prison to again fly
to the freedom of rhapsody in the serenading sky.
February 23, 2021
Contest : Imagine Freedom Beyond Imagination
Sponsor : Mystic Rose Rose
My city has been abandoned
by royalty for vultures to defecate and Hyenas to spit on.
The large hole left is a huge hindrance to every emotional functionality
making inactivity a coveted blessing to this feeling
which was once an inner paradise
as vacuum is more glorified to this emptiness
handled by a devastating care-taker.
Misery spins in a jet speed round an orbit of madness
while disgrace powers this system with the energy of ruin.
Reconciliation’s manual is drafted in an impossible language
b’cos everything within and outside the shores of existence
are on their knees on my behalf, yet mercy has been squashed
on this rocky heart I arrogantly created.
My moves of happiness have been jacked up
with a pivot of depression as its wheels are unscrewed
by the cruel tools of sadness.
The buttons of our memory now over-punched,
making the heart drown in a gutter of regrets
and dragged to the blind border of melancholy.
A heavy rope is tied around my neck yet nobody sees.
My throat, in cautious contact with a sharp knife but nobody cares.
I face reject like a delicacy without seasoning from a Tongue
and dislocated by doom
like summer without daylight or spring without the rains.
I stand alone and afflicted by this mood so barren.
She has passed the message so clearly
but not without leaving an injured soul.
To My Beloved Daughters (for when I’m gone)
It happened. Please, don’t shed too many tears,
(I know, you won’t listen, fine!)
A few, all right! But followed by loud cheers
To celebrate mom’s amazing path in time,
Glorified by her and in her own rhyme!
Last letter of undying love and advice -
Live open heartedly, mindedly and wise.
Worries tuck away by dusk, sleep long and tight -
Morning vision is much sharper than at night.
Eat smart, not more, thus spare yourselves from diet,
Draw the line between enough and the last bite.
Smile more, frown less, laugh often and out loud,
Good, old chuckle scatters away the darkest cloud.
Live in a present moment, yet consider
Your heart, lungs, kidneys, cervix, guts and liver.
Recklessly indulge, and one of those will fail
Commodity of vital worth – not on sale!
When your own precious kids grow up to know,
Please tell them that their grandma loves them so!
With each kiss and hug you grant them with a glee
Add some and more tender extras just from me.
Not quite sure, from below or from above,
But no doubt I’m watching over you with Love.
I’m aware that all mothers sound trite
Not always funny, but almost always right!
Love. Mom.
November 22, 2020
December 13 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on 2Thessalonians 1-3
Key Verse – 2Thessalonians 1:12 That the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you, and ye in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR ENABLING US TO GLORIFY HIM
Praise be to God for enabling us
to glorify Him as we:
Triumph with Him through His commands
Thank Him always for His compassion
Teach regarding Him in His church
Testify about Him for His charity
Toil for Him by His calling
2Thessalonians 2:16-17 Praise be to the Lord
for establishing us in every:
Good work against grievous worldliness
Guiding work midst gripping weariness
Godly wisdom despite glowing wealth
Grand ways along His great workmanship
Glorious worship toward glad waiting
Gracious watchfulness for guided wellness
3Thessalonians 3:3 Praise be to the Saviour
for being faithful to:
Deliver us from wickedness by His power
Direct us to walk according to His principles
Drive us from weariness through His propelling
Deter us against waywardness with prayer-push
Defend us from worldliness toward worthy performance. Amen!
December 13, 2024
'twas the night before any Christmas...
And all over our any town,
Lonely seniors tried so hard to forget,
What life was like in a land long ago.
When husbands or their wives were still living,
and the kids were all still home, very giving,
Today, that device called a phone,
Is not used even though they
are now even in cars?
And families send you photos of them in bars?
Or...places to impress we silly old elves!
"Why don't they leave us alone and get a life
for themselves."
So off they go, these abled bodied-beings,
Not even dreaming that perhaps one day,
they will be ancient and alone, too.
So, whether it's Christmas or just a plain day,
pick up any phone you own!
Say hello to the living,you cannot speak
to the dead!
What is wrong inside your head?
Don't think a text or email can ever replace
lovable you.
And as for our"busy" excuses?
I won't say what I call that.
What, are you...a conceited aristocrat?
Call your friend, cousin,grandmother,
grandfather,Mother or Dad.
Anyone that you care about.
If not, it tells me it's you....it's only
..whom you value.
These old folks in the twilight of their
years,
Must not be ignored, you never see
their silent tears.
Do people no longer care?
They miss being loved and respected,
And believe it or not,
A dog or a cat will not make it for them.
They need a human being,I ask...when?
These seniors are terrified to call you
at home or at work.
In a world that over glorified technology,
Where life has become one word
communication.
And there is no life on earth,
Except living in the Facebook Nation?
Worse, emojis are not cute,
Nor, what does it say about you?
And more horrid to me, when the initial of
your baptismal name becomes you?
It's sad..and as for automated replies?
Are you kidding?
An insult to humanity.
None of us is royalty.
Conceited, full of self, you bet.
I don't know where the life I knew
has gone.
I don't even know where love
has gone.
We all morphed into Alexa's?
I cannot give birth to the past.
Just talk to my walls and stare at
unwashed frying pans..alas!
PanagiotaRomios
4/26/2019
2:15 pm PST
"Please turn off the blinding lights"
Must close my eyes to see the brightness of my future.
My today's reality dims the spirit of the hunt.
Overcasting shadows and shaded grays of life's blunders;
of many passions, many desires, and many shall-not-wants.
Cannot dread what madness awakes with the rising sun.
Early birds catching worms; the hustle and bustles of rush hour traffic.
Of life keeping me on the run; a rat race full of chaos and havoc.
Challenging games of lady luck; trying to turn a quarter into a buck.
Dipping into what we call... "White Magic".
Yet I'm full of hope and answered prayers, my life's a blessing I cannot complain.
Even though another day, another half dollar, another of the same.
Rolling with the punches, turning cheeks, to do or die__are noted statements and claims to fame.
They are merely facts of life and nothing to be glorified or blamed.
Far down deep in the darkness of my mind__ illuminating brightness of my visions.
Tasting the sweetness of success. I shall drink of it from a golden cup.
Not of the dreams I won't ever give up, but of my many decisions.
There, I dance the jig on star studded stages__ with standing ovations;
to the sounds of silence and in dark illuminations.
In the fabric of spring, the map of life renewed unfolds –
A vibrant painting in a blend of young shades of birch, acacia, and ash;
A symphony of colors that come alive in the effusions of triumphal dawns;
No fading like it – each ray reawakens the verdant glade.
Beneath the steps of Spring, the flowered carpet, dust of dreams and fruition,
The undulating tapestry – a living canvas of the blossoming present;
The seed of life sketched by merry sunbeams, now vibrant and vast,
Gathered in the bouquet of a new beginning – the fanfare of a fresh salute.
Spring stretches out its billowing dreams, yet a flower still persists
The fresh green has shed – the resting renewal blooms –
Radiance once yearning to grow – a network full of life revealed –
A delicate covenant of pollen, in an ode to rebirth, in fact, glorified.
Within life's cesspool, captives held for trade,
along infested ways where young-child rape
is glorified by twisted souls who gape
and for the purity of babes are paid.
In dim, demonic dwellings are they laid
and sold to loathsome loves who drape
stolen innocence in sin's evil curse--
beyond protection or rescuing raid;
the shadowy officials turn the head
to wink or sometimes join the savage curse.
Somewhere sad, broken parents, sobbing, lie,
tortured days and nights saturate with dread
while ever fuller grows the sex trade's purse:
the victims cry alone and ask God why.
Copyright, May 3, 2014
Faye Gibson