Long Grafts Poems
Long Grafts Poems. Below are the most popular long Grafts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grafts poems by poem length and keyword.
November 1 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Romans 11-12
Key Verse – Romans 11:2 God hath not cast away his people which he foreknew. Wot ye not what the scripture saith of Elias? how he maketh intercession to God against Israel…
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY MIGHTY INTERCESSOR
Lord God, You are my mighty Intercessor
Who enables me in the Christian race
Thank You for Your gift of salvation grace
Along Your working patience-brace
Against stumbling block, snare and trap of sin-trace.
Lord God, You are my mighty Intercessor
Who enlightens me in worldly darkness
Thank You for Your illumination of vision’s clearness
Along Your magnifying lens of faith’s brightness
Against provoking fleshly alluring blurriness.
Lord God, You are my mighty Intercessor
Who grafts me into Your holiness-branches
Thank You for Your goodness leading to my fruit-bearing stretches
Along Your cutting severity discipline touches
Against boasting unbelief and conceit-crutches.
Lord God, You are my mighty Intercessor
Who delivers me from wiles of the ungodly
Thank You for Your covenant of the Gospel You show completely
Along Your counselling wisdom I obtain richly
Against threatening recompense of the unjust foolishly.
Lord God, You are my mighty Intercessor
Who beseeches me with Your tender mercy
Thank You for Your transformation of perfection's sufficiency
Along Your guiding sobriety that directs me toward commitment’s fervency
Against attacking slothfulness challenging my diligence-persistency.
Lord God, You are my mighty Intercessor
Who teaches me to cleave to Your compassion
Thank You for Your kindness bestowing me pardon’s peace-possession
Along Your sanctifying grant toward my effectual commission
Against cursing mockery belittling Your divine condescension.
Lord God, You are my mighty Intercessor
Who knows well my striving for earnest humility and honesty
Thank You for Your miracles for the fulfillment of my ministerial duty
Along Your assuring presence in doing stewardship-responsibility
Against frustrating failure caused by enemy’s hostility.
November 1, 2023
Bright blessings bind
Move mellow mind
Speak softly sane
Voice vibrant vein
Still silence shows
Feed fragrant flow
Live lofty lines
Meet mindset mine
Thrill touching tease
Esteem earns ease
Apt affluence aims
Tensile toil trains
Grace grafts grand gifts
Let laughter lift
Charming choice cheers
Face fragile fears
Dance dreamy days
Pick pretty plays
Craft charming choice
Ply precious poise
Words winding well
Swift sensuous sell
Feel floral flair
Answer apt airs
Set simple sights
Dance deep delight
Leon Enriquez
03 June 2016
Singapore
Written: October 12, 2023
Cinquain Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Ink Empress
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Guile gust
I grasp your gasp
goad grafts gently glowing
the gray grove greenery growing
glean grace
Skies Straight
I snared your sight
Schizoid swing of Steward
sewn souls spewing as oxblood stems
stark stance
Wince, wight
I've weaned your whiff
the world-wedged wink was wrapped
while not washing down the wild waft
when whet
Froth flow
your frisk frame flits
follow fall foliage
freshly framed flimsy fruity field
faint flame.
Sand stake
of smog steam sieve
you stride in silence steps
by slamming a skulker-shaped slope
spread string.
Now spring will bring another time of change
As apprehension raises my eye brows
I welcome beauty to these days so strange
Though family values take an exit bow
The closeness that we cherished long ago
Has slowly faded like the winter days
While everything we use we now dispose
Including principles of moral ways
Technology replaced talks face to face
Divorce now grafts new branches to our trees
Adultery is viewed as commonplace
And vows to God and spouse we break with ease
I welcome beauty to these days so strange
But wonder what the next thing is we'll change
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
O God of the vineyard, Root of mercy, Keeper of every covenant,
You are the Master who never stops working, the One who digs, prunes, nourishes, and returns again even when Your people wander, weaken, or forget You. Teach me to see Your patience in my own life — the quiet ways You tend my soul, the gentle corrections, the unexpected graftings that bring new strength.
Where I have become wild, heal me. Where I have become barren, renew me. Where I have resisted Your touch, soften my heart so I can bear good fruit again.
Thank You for the mercy that grafts outsiders in, for the grace that welcomes the Gentile, and for the faithfulness that never abandons Israel. Let me never boast in my place on the tree, but stand in humility, knowing I am here by Your kindness alone.
Restore in me the reverence Paul taught — a reverence that remembers the root is holy, the covenant is ancient, and the story is bigger than I am. Let me honor the branches that came before me and rejoice in the branches still to be gathered.
And like the servant in the vineyard, make me willing to labor with You — to lift, to nourish, to heal, to help gather what has been scattered, to strengthen what has grown weak, to love those You have planted in places I do not yet understand.
O God of mercy, graft me deeper into Your love. Let my life bear fruit worthy of Your patience. Let my heart stay rooted in Your promises. And let Your vineyard flourish in me until the day You gather all Your people home. Amen.
Krakatoa Kritic #007
Let those comment who kill with soft words when they ‘get’ you!
Should we hold praise hostage, retreat when we can’t see
reciprocal giftings that laud what we write in return?
My take’s yours if you like it, still yours if you don’t, but
a gift I hope serves you! My joy’s to encourage,
not harm. This might be the sole poem I post here (1), that’s fine!
Let all praise what we glean, words hearts join with mind’s sinew
praise noticed or not as you pass, whistle ‘Dixie,’
fly all flags half-mast! Share your muse though I freeze, melt, or burn:
blow my top at poor rhymes, curse free verse! Friend, inhabit
your prose, don't let rhythm and rhyme be a bandage
that grafts a snake’s tail on a mouse! Sing! Canary in mine!
The “One and Only” Krakatoa Kritic #007
(1) By here, I mean on this ‘Krakatoa Kritic #007’ site. I will continue to post poems under my actual name. I will try to respond to all questions about any review. I will not review others' work on request but seek to reward those I see contributing to others' growth, whose poems and whose comments appeal to me.
PS: I have published quite a few poems on PoetrySoup now! And I’m grateful to all readers if they comment or not! I think, however, that numbered, anonymous comments that only PS could identify the author of would be a significant improvement to PoetrySoup’s much-appreciated site! Members can already delete any comment that offends them! In this spirit, look for comments from me, ‘Krakatoa Kritic #007,’ on this site, on your poem! All payments/bribes are acceptable but will not get you nothing though I am a gold-medal receiver. A more loving, healthy community is my primary goal. I will post my reviews of all poems on both PoemHunter and PoetrySoup. I hope this will increase your poem's readership, and draw new readers to poets on both sites.
Comments might be more efficacious if it was impossible to construe them to be solicitations to read the commenter’s poetry (on both PoemHunter and PS). There is enough false praise in the world.
I do not claim to have the ear of God! The poems and comments I offer on this site are my suggestions, hoping to help both sites to become even better servants of poetic expression. InshAllah!
Winter wrapped Autumn in a shroud of white
after Jack Frost stripped the trees of their green.
And a contrite sun diminished its light,
as a dulcet moon loaned Winter its sheen.
Spring silently arrives with poise and grace,
as Her warm breath slowly thaws Winter's freeze.
And when ice and snow melt without a trace,
She grafts green stubble onto naked trees.
By overruling Winter's objection,
Spring prepares frozen soil for life's rebirth.
And rain-soaked seeds await Her direction,
as April showers quench a thirsty Earth.
Restoring colors, Winter's white washed out—
tulips, trilliums, and daffodils sprout.
“A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” – Jean de La Fontaine
Trials amid tribulation
failures, gradual adaptations
life a series of grafts
some taking, others left for dead
a simple weave
making their way thru your head
stitches try to make scars
more bearable
but the shameful still bleed
from within
where are you my destiny
as I battle life alone in this bed?
stars have come out tonight
and music begins to play
sync my soul with happenstance
our future sits at bay
sip slowly from her chalice
don't let this one slip away
dreams aren't meant for dying
let the living excite the day
This is where black breaks open into bright bleeding feeling
as souls suffer the fire of flesh to enter arena Earth screaming
searching the ether for Adam and Eve's answer to forbidden fever
while angels wear snake skins of war to remember the carnage of this theater
and demons adorn their horns with the rose thorns of newborns,
in the blue garden of aging Eden every breath has a burn, every flame forewarns
denuding knowledge of it's pretenses, unveiling appetites and their prices,
we begin to realize that the Great Mother is a killer as well as a provider for our vices
feeding us the fruits of fortune along with the fate of decay
building our bones, branding the brain, electrifying, crucifying and rectifying our clay,
she communicates, educates and fascinates with looks of lightning and sandy kisses
the Mistress of Lucifer and Christ, she supplies the wood, nails and rain for our wishes,
civilizations rage, rumble and crumble in the judgment of her storms
there's mud and rock for every foot of fury, a cave and castle for all who defy the norms,
in her imperial urn she will cremate your eyes in flames of crude oil
baptise hearts in pools of rose water filtered through eons of soul soil,
her gravity will grind you to the ground where grief grafts prayers from tears,
in the sanskrit of sunrises she will summon songs that give your love ears,
this cradle and cataclysm of her erratic elements is where hearts are born and buried,
Earth, a womb and tomb of ancient bloom, oasis in eternal space where life is carried -
J.A.B.
I have bad teeth. Always have since birth. I had braces as a child and hated it. Hated going to the dentist. Put it off too long, too often. Ended up with multiple root canals, and bone grafts, and finally lost six teeth and had to have dentures.
Lately, my remaining teeth have been behaving a bit better I may lose another tooth before the end but that should be enough.
I am waiting for the development of dental clones which I hope will happen soon so I can grow perfect teeth and replace all my old rotting teach.
I tell my teeth one day my plans
“Teeth”
“Yeah master”
“We need to talk”
“so talk, dude.”
“
I am going to replace you all with brand new teeth. You have been such pain my entire life, can’t wait.”
“So you are going to kill us off and trade us in for a new model?”
“Yeah”
“Bastard, but hey we don’t have a choice since you are the Master and we are merely you’re eating machine slaves.”
“Yeah, you got that right.”
And last but not least, our optional prompt! I got this one from a workshop I did last year with Beatrix Gates, and I’ve found it helpful. The prompt is based on Robert Hass’s remarkable prose poem, “A Story About the Body.” The idea is to write your prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image.