Long Graven Poems
Long Graven Poems. Below are the most popular long Graven by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Graven poems by poem length and keyword.
Your first touch awakened in me
A longing, a lotus
A love I once thought dead
You stood there and filled
My entire sky with only that sole
Moonstone look in your eyes
The one that told me I was
No longer alone on this desolate plain
And then something broke free
From the dusty shale and quartz
Shaped like a heart inside of me
As deep as a well
And as dark as the eyes of a barn owl
Unearthed from beneath the wild mustard
On this grave a graven image
Of a love I prayed for in vain
Somewhere buried beneath
The shattered asphalt of indifference
You freed that moth-winged hope
Because you touched me that deeply
Filled me that fully, that completely
How you slivered me like lightning
Resurrected me with a kiss
And then you rained.
She leaves footprints –
on the wet concrete of blinded doubts,
For she has carved lives - -
like graven images on the palms of her hands,
There is substance in her eyes,
fire in her soul,
zest in her spirit,
And her passion? –
She is anchor, rudder and dock, sail and compass,
Storms are her vanquished
for she kindles hope to enliven her faith,
Wars and Victories are her poems –
inked with blood, sweat and tears,
For she flames her faith –
with the winged cherubim and seraphim of prayers,
And in her steadfast stride,
barely noticeable are her hurts and pain,
She is wife and mother,
teacher and mentor,
support and pillar,
Give her a reason or none at all,
she is battle, she is warrior,
the Lord her Banner.
This fourth day of the second month –
she still writes her walk and talk,
With testimonies –
of unrelentless dauntlessness and dare,
She is that indomitable woman –
true to her name,
‘Nurturer and protector’ – Isadora
Politics, aerobics, arithmetic;
All of this commuted reconvicts;
Genocide, homicides, what's in it for all you guys;
Run and hide, ,, alibi
Just confided, must be nine
No it is, it's mine
Denomination must be graven;
Religion religious programming;
Regional back firing;
All of this I desire;
Comfort right, can you give me time;
Lord, I've had it up the here;
I've been empty, want to be filled;
So go on. . .
You filled me up;
you brought me out;
you placed your love in me;
you filled me up
and placed your saving grace inside of me;
Unemployed, no unions;
Mothers fighting daughters over their delusions;
Father's no longer here;
Sons no longer fear;
Where is the rest;
The rest is in
Where is the best
The best is here;
Standing on the streets at night so out of sight;
Grown up too soon can't rely on anyone, anything, anyway what's right?
I'm running out of steam grown up to soon;
Still don't believe man went to the moon;
All of this I desire, Lord;
Comfort ride can you give me time;
I'm on the line bout' to fall;
come fill me up again, Lord. . .
so go on
and fill me up
and bring me out
and place your love in me
continue to fill me up
and place your grace in me
written by James Edward Lee Sr. (c)2012
from anthology "There's Praise In song" (c)2012
Sept 25 2012
Past a peaceful day out Western Trail way,
Our lowing herd settled on coarse sand bars.
We hands bunched under prancing prairie stars,
Once clean grub tins and cups were put away,
For tall yarn desserts, dance, and campfire songs.
Lit by burning buffalo chips and sage,
Our campfire blazed hot, challenging the dark,
Holding at bay the prairie wind’s chill bark.
Night herd began with strums of a guitar
Backed by a fiddle and an Ozark harp.
Cowboys sang of Betsy from Pike’s sweet charms,
Dancing do-si-dos with scarves on their arms.
Two waddies circled our bedded down herd,
Singing Old Paint to the beat of horse hooves,
Echoing us boys’ songs by the fire
As coyotes chorus to the sparkling sky.
Past riding drag, eating dust all day
Worn waddies could cough up a few tunes.
Our homesick cowboy choir danced and sang
Then tiptoed to bed rolls for a few winks
Until our turns, on the down low, to croon
A sorrowful Red River lullaby
For trail weary doggies laying at rest,
Promising fresh rich grass in the Big Sky.
At the break of dawn, we were up and gone
Roping and riding; trying not to yawn.
A clear morning sky offered welcome news
No thunderstorms, floods, or frosted-up dews.
A stove-up drover that morn did advise
“Savor your quiet nights and be trail wise
For a cowboy’s work is never to cease
Before the railhead and cattle’s release.
Some year, long paired iron rails must appear
With barbed wire strands to encumber our way
As Progress closes up loved cattle trails,
Dooming open range to vanish away.
As the parched summer grass, we too shall fade,
Our names lichen covered on graven stone,
But breathing as legends we shall live on,
Riding trail bred tales our kids will hear.”
August 6 Heart for God Bible Meditations Based on Isaiah 42-44
Key Verse – Isaiah 42:8 I am the LORD: that is my name: and my glory will I not give to another, neither my praise to graven images.
HEART THAT ACKNOWLEDGES THE LORD AND HIS GLORY
Our heart acknowledges the Lord and His glory despite our misery
When we are lonely, being pitiful and solitary
Feeling sorry as if enclosed around unbelief-treachery---
Here we are, seeking for His love, full of victory.
Our heart acknowledges the Lord and His glory despite our affliction
When we are weak, murmuring over dissatisfaction
Feeling sick in battling against worldliness-temptation---
Here we are, begging for His help and direction.
Our heart acknowledges the Lord and His glory despite our bitterness
When we are envious, magnifying scarcity’s emptiness
Feeling jealous about others’ resources’ bountifulness---
Here we are, trusting His provisions of ready supply-goodness.
Our heart acknowledges the Lord and His glory despite our discontentment
When we are frustrated, losing heavenly excitement
Feeling worthless in wallowing into vanity-predicament---
Here we are, reaching out to His kindness’ fulfillment.
Our heart acknowledges the Lord and His glory despite our insecurity
When we are fearful, trembling at faith-advancement opportunity
Feeling unable in moving forward, upward beyond any adversity---
Here we are, depending on His strength’s great stability.
Our heart acknowledges the Lord and His glory despite our arrogance
When we are haughty, pursuing over earthly fame and abundance
Feeling self-sufficient in our accomplishment-driven endurance---
Here we are, surrendering to His majesty of divine elegance and extravagance.
Our heart acknowledges the Lord and His glory despite our distresses
When we are dismayed, sinking deep into lamentation that oppresses
Feeling depressed in succumbing to discouraging discourses---
Here we are, praising His name for forgiving our offenses.
August 6, 2026
Long time ago when I was still a child,
I watched my grandpa in his shrine pour out libation,
Under the tree and amidst sun’s ferocious tide,
To a graven image constructed out of determination.
Sacred worships to gods known and unknown,
Handed-down by tradition as the story told,
In memory of the dead known and unknown,
Grandpa the sacred tradition his turn to hold.
And then the white man came,
From his roaming about though uninvited,
Grandpa responded and offered a game,
As demanded by his culture when by a stranger visited.
The white man introduced his own idea of worship,
Though of better value by my judgement,
I pondered what in man craves for worship,
May be the soul is afraid of judgement.
The white man brought a book,
In it was written many stories,
About a righteous man whose life they took,
Who went about doing good as told by the stories.
Grandpa believed what the white man brought,
The book he called the holy bible,
Where God will bring all wickedness to naught,
A message of hope to the people.
Grandpa his shrine began to destroy,
Cathedrals they began to build,
Materials they began to deploy,
Block by block they began to build.
On the alter is laid a cross,
To guide them by persecution will fall their faith,
To remind them to carry their daily cross,
Thus is formed my faith, oh the sound of faith.
Sharing, caring, darling child,
Soon to be so strong and mild.
After comes the One whom she,
Sees in Him the One to be.
Mary gives the Christmas child.
Life He wins through godly trial.
Come increase in His love and peace,
Until all works of darkness cease.
All the earth He made to give,
That His brothers and sisters may live.
In Him is found our holy grace,
For in Him all life has place.
His heart is always open,
To receive and heal us from sin.
His hope is always sure.
In Him we can all be made pure.
Giving us gracious gifts, He renews our lives,
With repentance He is bound to us, through holy ties.
His hands which bore the cross,
Can lift us up, and make up all our loss.
His Father is our Sire,
Who gave us rebirth through His holy fire,
That if we will through freedom come,
He will guide us on the path of His Son.
My heart cries out, “How holy and great Thou art!
Make me Thy steward by setting me apart!
Oh merciful, and loving gentle Jesus,
In Thy loving arms receive us!”
My faith in Thee is pure,
And my hope and salvation sure.
My everlasting need is filled in Thee.
My everlasting soul is forever free!
The beauty and glory of it all,
Thou hast saved me from the fall.
My life embraces Thy holy love.
My strength comes from Thee above!
Free at last, free from the past,
My heart has turned from stone to glass!
The effect of my sin is no more,
Thy love and work hath carried me ashore.
Once more fresh, and anew in Christ,
I gratefully receive this gift of Godly price.
And with this life Thou hast given me,
I will bless all others to come unto Thee!
The Lord has already taken our load.
He has not forgotten us, graven and bestowed.
He has borne our crosses, the schemes of man,
Being lifted and gifted high, upon the palms of His hands.
We are the Lord’s true delight, the reason He died.
He now awaits our arrival, with arms open wide.
Our great Lord loves us today and always, for He is risen!
Providing provision all our days, and we are forgiven!
Welcome, Summer
by Geoffrey Chaucer
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather
and driven away her long nights’ frosts.
Saint Valentine, in the heavens aloft,
the songbirds sing your praises together!
Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather.
We have good cause to rejoice, not to scoff,
since love’s in the air, and also in the heather,
whenever we find such blissful warmth, together.
Now welcome, Summer, with your sun so soft,
since you’ve banished Winter with her icy weather
and driven away her long nights’ frosts.
Whoso List to Hunt
by Sir Thomas Wyatt
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch
Whoever longs to hunt, I know the deer;
but as for me, alas!, I may no more.
This vain pursuit has left me so bone-sore
I'm one of those who falters, at the rear.
Yet friend, how can I draw my anguished mind
away from the doe? Thus, as she flees before
me, fainting I follow. I must leave off, therefore,
since in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Whoever seeks her out, I relieve of any doubt,
that he, like me, must spend his time in vain.
For graven with diamonds, set in letters plain,
these words appear, her fair neck ringed about:
"Touch me not, for Caesar's I am,
And wild to hold, though I seem tame."
Brut
by Layamon, circa 1100 AD, an excerpt
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Now he stands on a hill overlooking the Avon,
seeing steel fishes girded with swords in the stream,
their swimming days done,
their scales a-gleam like gold-plated shields,
their fish-spines floating like shattered spears.
If you see a busker singing for tips, you're seeing someone carrying on an Anglo-Saxon tradition that goes back to the days of Beowulf …
He sits with his harp at his thane's feet,
Earning his hire, his rewards of rings,
Sweeping the strings with his skillful nail;
Hall-thanes smile at the sweet song he sings.
—"Fortunes of Men" loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: Chaucer, rondel, roundel, welcome, summer, sun, winter, weather, frost, songbirds, song, love, night, nights, ice, icy, heaven, heavens, sky, Wyatt, hunt, busker, thanes, Anglo-Saxon, Beowulf
God is the beginning of every step I take
He is the beginning of every plan I make.
God was before the beginning of time,
To us, the events in history are sublime.
These are the refine paths that is hidden,
Beyond the mind are graven images given.
Some roads on which we are reluctant to trod,
we are left behind in footsteps made by God.
We have the choice of paths to follow,
Creating your fantasy, joy, and sorrow
On earth, past lives are hidden in the ground,
Asleep, the soul makes only a silent sound.
Emotions we allowed to have lived inside,
We made them wise to swallow our pride.
Passing through storm clouds, water, and fire,
He does not need to rush to makes us lighter.
At the end of our days, God is in full control,
A higher power makes decisions over a soul.
It may be the end of this present mortality,
But the beginning of newness in glory.
God can make the explorer reach higher,
Everything comes down to the final chapter.
In morphism, we exist instead of elimination,
Processing beliefs, in the age of regeneration.
Gods of Man
In the days of yore, in distant times
Life was simple
Man was simple-minded
and his gods were simple, as well.
Life began with the light of day
and ended with the fall of night.
The light and the darkness were magical,
mysterious, awe-inspiring, and dreadful.
So, he made the sun his god
and the darkness his devil.
A little wiser, he made the graven images
to bow to, sacrifice and worship.
Then came the sly and savvy one
and he made god an anomaly,
a paradox and an enigma.
He made god like no one
and no one was like him.
He was nowhere and everywhere,
And yet he built magnificent
houses of worship and
installed idols of gods
and turned it into a thriving enterprise.
He spawned dos and don’ts…
And as a deterrent he engineered hell,
As an incentive he promoted heaven.
I did it my way
After I am dead and gone away
Let them say whatever they may,
Night to night and day after day
I have lived my life my own way,
A god of my own I created to pray
and my own devil I made to obey;
I will own all my sins at play
and vow all their wages to pay.