Long Go past Poems
Long Go past Poems. Below are the most popular long Go past by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Go past poems by poem length and keyword.
It's good to look back at the year's end
to ponder on all that's now gone past
1 year ago you didn't know what's to come
but recognising it's all gone all too fast
Healthy has been so very excellent
my cancer checkups have all been great
with my PSA heading in down direction
increasing confidence for my next health date
My stammer has pulled me down again
so needing therapy for 9 months long
but light has dawned again at tunnel end
now slowly getting better like a merry song
Holidays were other real highlights
being at Crieff Hydro in January cold
then in spring to Bowness on Windermere
to Cyprus in May among sunshine gold
July came to go to Keswick lakes
enjoy convention, learn much in God's word
then at Southport for full two weeks
enjoyed the sun along the seafront
The year can't go past without thanks
for my friends of poetry so divine
faithful their encouragement so very much
this spurs me on with pen to shine
When the storms frightened me,
I silently stood in the darkest corner...
Mama came running
to embrace me tenderly;
by the warmth of her lovely smile, I learned
how to go past darkness...
and by her encouraging words, I lived...
without fearing anything!
Mama's hazel eyes cried...
like lilies after the warm spring' rain,
and those tears kept me from useless pain;
Mama's hazel eyes stood
by her growing son...shivering but brave,
until he was ready to go far into life!
Now, Mama has found her eternal home,
and she happily sings in a chorus of angels:
in that peaceful Heaven of holy voices;
and I am hopeful...never uncertain and alone!
I'd like to watch Mama's hazel eyes
sweetly looking down on me,
so that nothing I can fear again!
Let other storms rage over me,
let them bring me more hard days...
and let the gusts of wind knock me down:
Mama will pick me up like an angel of mercy,
and fly me over the storm...to bring me to safety!
Mama, you have gone so suddenly;
many times I wish...it wasn't so real!
Ringo is staring at my choices
I do not understand them myself I think
He is the wisest of my friends
Golden retrievers being magical and such
I am floating in the ocean
Enjoying my friends the Beluga whales
They have come to welcome me
To reassure me, and help my soul relax
Orcas are here too, not as close
Not that fond of me, I am wary
The Belugas are not concerned though,
which relaxes me a bit. I deeply sigh.
The water has never been this dark,
yet I can see easily several feet down.
There is a rock ledge, I guess I am standing on it.
How did I get here? I wonder, not concerned.
Past the beach I see a lush forest.
Is that where Ringo is staring?
I have a multitude of choices.
Stay in the water, go to the beach or go past the beach
I elect to stay in my dream state a bit longer
my power animals swim off with the Orcas
Thanks a bunch, I think, realizing I have to do this myself.
Do you think after death comes a new life?
We got so many views but which one is right?
Sat on my own I often wonder
Are we in hell or is it down under?
I’ve lost lots of friends and family
I’m thirty three now when’s time for me?
Will I die young or an OAP?
Will it be an accident or naturally?
Is it true that heavens above?
Do we see lost ones that we love?
Nobody knows some just surmise
Religion say different but which one is right?
You never know which days your last
So live everyday to the full as they go past,
I’d like to know when is my time
And how it happens so I can get myself primed,
There has got to be something after death
Life’s too short to think there’s nothing left.
Choosing whom to love...is an unsolved dilemma, we humans seldom attest;
how can love be shared equally among the ones who delight our very heart?
I can't love one person more than the other, it's utter unfairness on my part;
what troubles me is to whom I'll give the deserving affection that can last...
If many haven't loved me or touched me in the simplest, truest way: I can go past that;
and wouldn't hold it against them, but what I will tell them is to be my friends and chat.
And the saddness of the matter is that friends aren't like God who's ever-present;
they live among us for a short while, then they depart to begin their jeourney's quest.
Many dark days have see me waiting on someone like a hopeless beggar: bitter, cold and sad;
no nickels, dimes or quaters were tossed into my coffee cup I held up with a trembling hand.
Fate, unfair fate will there be a time when you'll show me sympathy, and not embitter me?
If another chance at being loved were given to me, I wouldn't forfeit it when it accosts me.
.
Choosing whom to love...is an unsolved dilemma, causing confusion to clearly think and pause;
not all can be certain of hearing that they are truly loved by offering them a beautiful rose.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Cameras snap on the last action tourists trap
As shutters flash, bullets fly by respectfully
Go past Sunday services at high velocity
Stain glass windows stay intact
Some one falls from the high church tower
Assisted by gravity, a force of nature at work
A push out a window from a stranger works as well
Even better, since it brings a man to his senses
In a splat, a stain on the pavement
Obsequious to that end to make a mark
On the square, over a glass of cold fresh brew
A hit man, this time, does not miss his mark
The story, like the beer, is delicious this time of year
Robbery is also good to attract new business
Loaded guns must bow to authority
To conduct commerce on the streets
Ammo leaves chambers only by permission
Empty, safe and sound as ordinances intend
Approved by law enforcement
There is no end to city limits
Tourists are the center of attraction
Our aim is to aim at them
Credit the Chamber of Commerce
They do business the old fashioned way
At the end of the barrel of a gun
Emptied chambers make more profits
Bullets don't pay taxes
I wish I had an umbrella for I feel you falling around me.
And I need to stand under something just to protect my head.
Pieces of you are dropping in a way that's most astounding.
And I only wish the old man would get up out of bed.
"The sky is falling," the poultry sing in chorus.
“Somebody grab an umbrella, get us out of the rain.”
The gods are bawling. Maybe their tears are for us.
But I wish I had an umbrella to get me out of the rain.
I wish I had some galoshes. The brown stuff's getting thicker.
I'm tired of squishing through it, slipping my way through life.
I tell you again to slow down , you move just that much quicker.
And I'd ask you to lend me a hand but I know it's holding a knife.
"The sky is falling," the poultry sing in chorus.
“Somebody grab an umbrella, get us out of the rain.”
The gods are bawling. Maybe their tears are for us.
But I wish I had an umbrella to get me out of the rain.
I wish I had an umbrella, a brand new dancing partner
To splash through the puddles with singing out my lungs.
I'd like to see old Apollo but it's just raining harder.
And I'd offer up another tune but it won't go past my tongue.
"The sky is falling," the poultry sing in chorus.
“Somebody grab an umbrella, get us out of the rain.”
The gods are bawling. Maybe their tears are for us.
But I wish I had an umbrella to get me out of the rain.
If you feel a need to smirk,
You can't go past a Merc,
One that is fully electric,
Or at least a hybrid, so you won't feel a jerk,
When cheap petrol is all talk.
Engineered with you in mind,
For peace of mind,
They leave others behind.
With standard features you won't believe,
At prices you can quote with some relief,
As you drive one safely round another bend,
You may wish the ride will never end.
Get a Mercedes Benz,
And you will have lots of friends,
When you show them the space you have for long legs,
And other odds and ends.
If you want to up your IQ,
Test drive an EQA,
Something rather nifty,
That you can charge in a jiffy.
I saw a wrinkled-faced woman so lost and scary,
and from her swelled eyes, tears of desperation ran;
it boldly told everyone that nobody cared...
but that humble human being moved me deeply.
I couldn't go past her and not find out
why she was so distraught
among faces so healthy and joyful...
everyone seemed to ignore her.
I got closer to her...she trembled, but smiled
by holding out her hand with droopy skin;
how long had she been at that busy intersection?
Perhaps many hours, I could tell by her whooping cough.
" Please help me, young man...help me find my home;
I can't remember where I live! " She begged me
by squeezing my warm hand very hard...she hoped
I was that angel who could lead her home.
" I surely would...if you could tell me your name! "
was my answer. " I don't remember anything, son. "
she replied with confusion. Then she showed me
an identification tag with her name and address.
Seeing that gave me a sigh of relief,
" Smile, your name is Linda and you live on 414 Oak Street
which is only two blocks away! " Linda is my name? "
Yes, it is...I'll be happy to take you home! "
Confidence is such a fleeting thing, one moment you have it held in your hands and the next its squeezing through your fingers like putty. I crawl on my hands and knees most days searching for it, weaving my hands though the granular pieces of sand cutting my fingers on invisible shards of insecurity . Most days I won't look past my jaw line , eyes trained not go past the boarder, red flags and guns raised saying if you look past this point there will only be hurt. There are days where I fill my head with thoughts so elaborate, running with tunnels and twists I cannot get out of. I’m lost in my own labyrinth not certain I want to leave. Other days tones of grays and black wash over with hatred and disgust. Hues of blue give a flicker of color leading to thoughts I dare not speak out loud afraid if I voice them I won’t will be able to take them back, keep them locked in the places I only dare go on my darkest days. I will lead my miss guided ghosts back to their promise land seeking out the light only few have glimpsed. Conquering demons that lay wake in the deepest regions of my mind. I will learn to love this body by crossing lines that are only drawn in sand.