Long Grieve Poems
Long Grieve Poems. Below are the most popular long Grieve by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grieve poems by poem length and keyword.
What is it I seek, you ask?
Love … that dares to grow aside
Between two transformations,
Choosing to walk with each other
I long for something like this, do you?
What do I want, you ask?
Love… that grows old in peace,
where we break bread over every morning tea,
Definitely not the kind that grows apart in comfort
leaving you to a brink of thee; Don’t you ?
What do I hope, you ask?
Love that agrees to stand;
And doesn’t cease in dark
It shields while you grieve and re-build
I long for something like that, do you?
What do I wish, you ask?
Souls resurrect many times in one life
Real love stays in kindness and holds the space
Doesn’t shame, control or mold you,
And never leaving you to wander in a bond for two,
I wish this love upon you, I hope you do too!
The darkness has passed and the morning has come
The birds sing hello to the day
But you lay there'til you and the pain become one
Willing all but your sorrow away
.
What happened the girl full of wonder and awe
Who dared steal your thunder away
Who took all the dreams and the visions you saw
And coloured them empty and grey
.
Don't let your tomorrows
be written in stone
The past has a will of its own
See through the lies all the clear crystal skies
And the future's not written in stone
.
You've given me hope and a chance to believe
And the wonderof living again
The Stars hurt my eyes now the darkness can grieve
For the loss of one more of its friends
.
The reason's been blowing too long in the wind
The answers too vague to define
We've all had a past and all sinners have sinned
Your sorrow's as ageless as time
.
Don't let your tomorrows
Be written in stone
The past has a will of its own
See through the lies all the clear crystal skies
And the futures not written in stone
The swings you go through with a child
Are not unlike a coaster wild.
The terror, stark, when they arrive:
“How do I keep this kid alive?”
“What idiot allowed discharge,
And placed with me a care so large?”
When you have lost all hope of sleep,
And dark depression settles deep,
Then you will wonder in despair,
“How long, O Lord, too much to bear!”
But then, when first she smiles at you,
And suddenly dawn’s light breaks through!
Until the day you feed her meats
And gagging, retching, white as sheets,
You’re sorely pressed by toxic waste,
And all that fondness fades, erased
By thoughts you banish from your mind,
“How could I ever been so blind
To think this nasty little brute
Was a delight, a darling, cute?”
But then she talks, she says your name;
You’re launching to the moon again!
This surely is the pinnacle,
Parental heights you’ve scaled in full.
But comes the dark night of the soul;
Your daughter’s now thirteen years old.
Who is this alien life form?
When will your days resemble norm?
The slightest thing; all hell breaks loose:
A train that’s led by its caboose!
Back on the tracks, to wreck again,
Of late, you pray, “Why, God?” and “When,
When will this horrid phase be through?”
Completely unbeknownst to you,
This phase, designed, the needed fuel
To send her, gladly, off to school.
And then you sit, an empty home,
Berate yourself in brooding gloam
As night falls on parental days
And you imagine all the ways
that trouble will befall your child,
How by the world she’ll be defiled
And grieve and want her in your arms
In safe protection from all harm.
And after school, she needs you less
Until it’s time to buy the dress.
For her, elation and much joy!
For you, “And just who is this boy?”
But as you learn, she’s picked a man,
All goes according to the plan,
And you have this to comfort you,
For it is clear he loves her too.
So for a time, you are at peace;
The cycling has much decreased.
And yet, when they have fully grown,
Then suddenly you want them home.
You yearn for time spent with their kids
At intervals the miles forbid.
And if you’re being honest, too,
You’re hoping they’ll take care of you.
But looking back, it’s all a win;
You’d gladly take this ride again.
In time’s vast flow in forward gears,
What use these fears for a few years?
Life has given more than enough,
Why cough over missing stuff?
Every day dawns with enough light,
Why dwell on last night’s darkling blight?
Enough joyous jiffies to live,
Why grieve on sad ones on this eve?
Sweet memories when swell in heart,
Why not cart sad ones all apart?
Let’s fondly flaunt flowers in life,
Why dwell rife but on spikes of strife?
Hail few that come if heart feels good,
Why brood on those that never would?
Goodness books space in every room,
Why fume for faults if they spread gloom?
Goodly souls everywhere are lined,
What more blind search engines can find?
____________________________________
Couplets |01.01.2024| New Year
Poet’s note: There is a lot of stock-taking on the year that just ended, along with predictions for the new year, and resolutions on what to do now on. Forget the past and move on is the theme of these couplets. This piece is my interpretation of a Gujarati forward I received: Hisab shuñ rakhvo?
Whose “image and likeness”
I ache as my spirit recoils, denies
the truth of what we have become.
…in his image and likeness..
surely there could not be
a “god” so disfigured, so ugly
as to hate its offspring,
send assassins into our midst,
fill our “prayers” with doubt and distress
sicken our spirits with the apathy of acquiescence,
abandon us to our acceptance of evil.
I grieve all death as it depletes
the fullness of our entwined spirits
drains the sap from our tree of life
denies a never formed branch existence
depletes the chorus of its fullness.
I weep in sorrow for the body of man
bleeding slowly from self inflicted wounds
blinded by the horror that it sees
unable to fulfill life’s simplest need
consumed with petty enmity and hate
children the sacrificial lambs of fate.
I am angry with this “disfiguring” god
enraged that he would tar us with this brush
paint caricatures of our souls
default dominion - this worlds debauchery.
I am appalled that men can do to men
such that the soul would favor hell
over living in the squalor of despair
seeking mercy from a god who’s disappeared.
John G. Lawless
6/19/2015
Among the lessons I have learned,
At the edge of blacktop,
Near bridges, some burned
I see the hesitant whisper of life
Warm hearts, so concerned
Knowing the pavement will end
One day soon, my soul will be returned
Returned to the Master, the One
Whose still writing my story
He’s the light, God’s only Son
Writing with ink from His own blood
He fought the devil without a gun
Whispered hope to the hurting
I hope to hear Him say, “Well done”
Well done, the words I long to hear
When I leave this troubled world
Reach my home where love is so sincere
Touch the hands who saved me
From the darkness and all my fear
Battled the sins that pursued
With love that will never disappear
Disappear from the heart who believes
His love is a rock, foundation of the free
He’s still writing, with blood that relieves
My heart and soul, saving me from me
Destroying the shadow who grieves
Inspiring my story to sing of God’s peace
He is the One who can save even thieves
Thieves hung on either side of Him
As He warred on the cross, my Savior
It looked so much like He’d lost, all was grim
Until that third day at the tomb
When He arose to prove, when it’s sink or swim
We have One who works wonders within
Within my heart, where I sometimes see
There is the promise from One I believe
He’s writing my story – He’s set me free
So I know, when those potholes come about
In the pavement of my soul, I bow my knee
And reach out to the hand that bore the nails
So that I might know Him who holds the key
Key to being better than I was, because I believe
In the One who writes my story,
with ink of pure blood, His gift I’ll receive
One who tells of glory, on streets paved in gold
Where the pavement, my soul will relieve
Because I’ve met the One who chose me
To walk the streets of gold, where I’ll never grieve
Pondering the pavement – gold as gold can be
Walking on that trail more beautiful than any dream
It is here in heaven, that I see
The wonders of everlasting, the song of belief
And I’ll never forget what He did for me
Its written on the pavement, each step breathed
My spirit on fire, for Him who set me free
“There is no state of liberation, no state of bondage, no state of virtue, no state of vice. There is no state of perfection and no state of destitution. Why dost thou, who art the identity in all, grieve in thy heart?”
If we speak of liberation
Bondage then must have been our state
But we’re one with God’s creation
Where throb of bliss does not abate
There is no lack, we feel complete
No matter in which realm we dwell
We are drenched with magnetic heat
Which bodes to us that all is well
So free from desire and from fear
Remaining vibrant at all times
The hand of God our fate does steer
Weaved with love betwixt bliss beats chimes
I am a Jew, but I am enthralled by the luminous figure of the Nazarene. Jesus is too colossal for the pen of phrasemongers, however artful." He further added: "No man can read the gospels without feeling the actual presence of Jesus. His personality pulsates in every word. No myth is filled with such life...Theseus and other heroes of his type lack the authentic vitality of Jesus. -Albert Einstein
When I die, please don’t cry
Instead, I beg – look to the sky
Where my spirit soars, flying high
A light, a love – this is not goodbye
When I die, don’t mourn the end
Instead, know you were a true friend
Gentle prayers you would always send
A story of hope on which I could depend
When I die, please look to the light
Where my soul lives on, it’s such a sight
Trembling and rising, with all my might
Knowing God’s presence makes it all right
When I die, don’t listen to those tears
They tell the story of doubts and fears
Listen, instead, to the joy through the years
Joy that comes to believers when death nears
When I die, please remember my life
And say a soft thank you for His sacrifice
Because He lived and died, faced the strife
We can know the love that comes in the afterlife
When I die, don’t believe the worry or dread
When she says I’m gone – despite what she said
Know that I’m still alive, even though my body’s dead
I live in the presence of God, eating heaven’s bread
When I die, please don’t weep for me
Just think!!! – I’m finally free
In His presence, you surely agree
I’ll find a bigger love than the largest sea
When I die, don’t grieve for what has been
Heed the light that flows, so serene
Remember I was loved by Him, though He was unseen
Because of His great gift, I’ll always love the Nazarene.
SEAHORSESAYS
this seahorseSays
i love
my oceanMore
each day
i mostly travel
by the gentleCurrents
watching myCitizens
of this great
wetWorld swimming
like dreams
dreams as if above
a fisher-thing has cast
its net though
wetMinds are wetHearts
so we move
because and why
the great OceanMinds
are free to forgive
those enslaved by
air and wind
air and wind as fire
or lifeSource
which by learned
wetGeniuses is called
blood the non-fin
no-gill non-water
things which move above
;in all the vastness of
my world none are as those
mySelf (this poet) as life
-- the souls of all things
see and have learned
to forgive and not hate
or grieve but leave no
salute but deep regrets
to the dry land fools
called man
:: 02-25-2016 ::
I am the box you spend with eternity.
Holding what is left, what remains.
Anguish seeps down from shattered hearts
Releasing unbearable pain.
I look put together for a little while
Then I fall apart where no one can see.
Like excusing yourself into another room
So you can privately grieve.
My satin filled insides will eventually disperse.
Until the Earth claims what is rightfully hers.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
Letting go is a powerful must.
They lower me solemn and slowly
Earth welcoming me back home for good.
Beneath the soiled surface,
I perform the work of wood.