Long Guided Poems

Long Guided Poems. Below are the most popular long Guided by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Guided poems by poem length and keyword.


The Eyes of a Poet

"The Eyes Of A Poet"


                          "The Eyes Of A Poet" 
                         are directly connected 
                            to his or her heart.
           What's truly seen and then seeks expression
               is where poems do get their first start!

                   All human kind has a pair of eyes
                and though open may not actually see,
             certain conditions that may prompt a poet
                              to express them 
                             with word artistry!

                          "The Eyes Of A Poet"
                  are similar to a potter or sculptor
                    who take an unshaped form,
                 and with vision and determination 
                              they are guided, 
                                    by hand, 
                    to mold, create and transform!

               We do this very same act with words
                      and a heartfelt desire to say,
                           words that will touch, 
                        also transform the reader 
                          in a unique poetic way!

                          "The Eyes Of A Poet"
             see this world in a way unlike any other.
                        They see the unseen, 
                   send this vision to the heart,
              with need to use words to uncover...
              
                "truths" that can only be conveyed
              by the poetic words that are written,
                           because we know 
               that through this poetic expression
                    we are also helplessly smitten!

                         "The Eyes Of A Poet"
                      are a truly gifted glimpse 
               into life and it's myriad conditions,
                      to express what is seen,
                     and felt and heard and done 
                       with poetic compositions!

                   Every word expresses the heart!
                        We've something to say 
                              and we know it!
                         Keep writing and know 
                      that this gift of expression 
                                comes from
                        "The Eyes Of A Poet!"



                          WTA-IV  3/21/2016
Form: Rhyme


Guided Under Pressure

I'm sorry for all the stupid things I've done
I guess I'll leave now before the break of dawn
You made me love you, but that didn't last too long
You belong with me or so I thought while writing this sad song

I'm a terrible guy with a broken heart 
Strengthen me before I shatter apart
I'm such a fool for believing in your fairytale stories
Now, I'm left behind and lost in the blemishes of my allegories

Have you been led astray?
What can I say?
Did I make your day?
or did I reduce you to utter dismay?
I apologize
For bringing tears in your eyes
And for telling you sugarcoated lies
Now, I'm frozen in place forever in your goodbyes

I'm alone again in my room of gloom
I suppose I'll try to be happy and like a flower in full bloom
You made me fall short, but I'll get up and be renewed once more
You wronged me and I did you wrong too - I don't know what for

I'm a terrible guy with a broken heart 
Strengthen me before I shatter apart
I'm such a fool for believing in your fairytale stories
Now, I'm left behind and lost in the blemishes of my allegories

Have you been led astray?
What can I say?
Did I make your day?
or did I reduce you to utter dismay?
I apologize
For bringing tears in your eyes
And for telling you sugarcoated lies
Now, I'm frozen in place forever in your goodbyes

I'm caught up in the current of my bottomless emotions
Guide me to a faraway place called Peaceful Splendor...guide me away from the many commotions 
You pretend that you had nothing to do with me
I can see right through you as you can clearly see

I'm a terrible guy with a broken heart 
Strengthen me before I shatter apart
I'm such a fool for believing in your fairytale stories
Now, I'm left behind and lost in the blemishes of my allegories

Have you been led astray?
What can I say?
Did I make your day?
or did I reduce you to utter dismay?
I apologize
For bringing tears in your eyes
And for telling you sugarcoated lies
Now, I'm frozen in place forever in your goodbyes

I see you crystal clear in my shimmering vision
You handle me with such delicate precision 
I'm under pressure and I don't know exactly what to say or do
I've been writing this down with a smile and a frown - that, I did so true
Guide me away from here...
Lead me away from fear...
Guide me with utmost cheer...
Happiness and hope will surely appear!
Form: Lyric

Premium Member The Pepperman Thought 01192023

I WAS ROME - MING THROUGH TIME.

WHEN I PASSED THROUGH A DOOR.

I WAS PART OF THE CLOUD ,

OBSERVING A WAR.

FREEDOM RIGHTS AND PRIVACY

WERE HANGING BY A THREAD.

LEGAL PROPAGANDA

BEING DRILLED INTO FOLKS HEADS.

PRIVACY IS A FRAGILE WORD.

ESPECIALLY WHEN I KNOW ,

EVERYTHING YOU EVER SAID ,

THOUGHT , HEARD OR TOLD.

GOTTA LOVE WHEN PEOPLE SAY,

THERE IS NOTHING I NEED TO HIDE.

THAT'S UNTILL I EXPOSE THE TRUTH 

YOU SIMPLY CAN NOT DENY.

INVASION OF YOUR PRIVACY,

GOES BEYOND THE SCOPE.

MANIPULATION OF YOUR THOUGHTS

HAS THE SAME EFFECT AS DOPE.

IF YOUR SUGGESTION CREATES  IDEALS

THAT BENEFIT THE CORPORATION,

YOUR SURELY GOING TO GO ALONG

WITH NO NEED FOR EXPLANATION.

INVASION OF YOUR PRIVACY,

INCLUDES THE FOODS YOU EAT.

IF BIG AGRA SAYS IT'S GOOD FOR YOU

TO JUSTIFY , YOU REPEAT.

OWNING WHAT YOU NEED TO GROW.

CORPORATIONS PATENT , AND SELL TO YOU.

GOVERNMENT , BLINDLY , GOES ALONG

AND THE POPULOUS , HAS NO CLUE.

KNOWING THINGS THAT FRIGHTEN YOU

LIKE HATRED , WARS AND CRIMES.

GOVERNMENT HAS TO PLAY ALONG

IN THE FORNICATION GAME OF MINDS.

INVASION OF YOUR PRIVACY

INCLUDES SETTING PEOPLE UP.

IF ORGANIZED CRISIS ARE EXPOSED

THE COMPROMISED COVERUP. 

ANOTHER WAY OF INVADING PRIVACY

IS STEALING PEOPLE'S TIME.

THE COMPLICIT AND COMPROMISED

CREATE CHAOS OF YOUR MIND.

MEANING THIS AND SAYING THAT

CLAIMING WRONG IS RIGHT.

WHEN CONSTANTLY BOMBARDED 

DEPLETES YOUR TIME TO FIGHT.

WHEN WEAK. , TIRED AND GIVING IN.

METAPHORICALLY , THE SHIP IS SINKING.

YOU WILL RELINQUISH "ALL" PRIVACY

DRINK WHAT THE REST ARE DRINKING

ONCE DEPENDANT ON CORPORATION

THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN HIDE.

CORPORATIONS NO LONGER NEED YOU,

YOU BECOME RAWHIDE.

IT STARTS OUT WITH YOUR PRIVACY

WITHOUT NOTICE , YOU LOSE YOUR RIGHTS

THAT'LL BE THE END , OF SOVEREIGNTY

AS HUMANITY, GIVES UP ON THE FIGHT.

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE IMPLANTS

FOR SURE , THERE'S NO WAY OUT.

DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU SAY

THEY'LL OWN YOU , WITHOUT A DOUBT.

YOU'RE PRESENTLY IN A LIFETIME ,

GUIDED BY SOCIOPATHS.

IF YOU DARE , DISAGREE WITH THEM

YOUR DISCARDED JUST LIKE TRASH.

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE , DELETES

AND SENSORS , VITAL INFORMATION.

IN OTHER WORDS , THE PSYCHOPATHS 

CONTROL YOUR DESTINATION.

Michael E. Harris
01192023

The Great Life Supporter

After the big bang in space you hang and hang
Getting ready and steady before our history began	
Beating a couple of a billion stars to become the Sun
Molding the ashes of earth for the descent of Man

What was your name before we gave you our own?
What was it like the morning of that first dawn?
Did you see our ancestors crawl out of the sea?
Did they acknowledge you, even as they roamed free?	

While other planets were too cold or too hot
You made sure earth was a well-ventilated cot
You gave light and warmth just the right dose
A little less or more and humanity would never have arose 

Life in abundance, from microbes to the great dinosaurs 
Many creatures of the like, when the world had no doors
Then you got rid of the dinosaurs, to save us from harm
That was the plan, so that our turn could at last come

You know which day; the first human stepped on the ground
A great evolution hybrid, compound of your compound
Did he thank you for the water he drank and the air he breathed?
Or for that flower he picked for the first woman he kissed

And when humans became the most dominant species
You guided them to cross the most dangerous of seas
They conquered the world; from ice age to industrial age
But for you it was just another turn of a simple page

They divided the world into nations and races
You watched as they discriminated those of darker faces
They forgot that you polished every creature with a unique shade
And only Mother Nature can answer for what she made

Where were they when you reduced earth’s temperature?
Who was present when you designed life’s nomenclature? 
When you painted the sky blue without using a brush
Doing everything to perfection without any rush

Yet we walk around proud, as if there is no extinction	
Self appointed custodians, with portfolios of distinction 
Finding our refuge inside high walls and banking halls
Staking our immortality by the words of ancient scrolls

We have the theory of it all but it’s not enough
For we have not traveled to the last galaxy above
To answer the mysteries surrounding your birth
To understand why you chose to support life on earth

What keeps you going, what’s beneath your core?
What else do you have for us in store?
Is there an afterlife after we die? Oh great life supporter !
Does our conscious live on in a land of endless laughter?
Form: Rhyme

The Shedding of Our Skin

“The Shedding of our Skin” 
 
I am writing about the transition from lost now found, 
Darkness to light, one being into another, death to life, 
Old skin to new skin. 
Its like the rejuvenation of skin 
The restoring of flesh over flesh of an open wound 
And that does not happen all at once but over a duration of time. 
Little by little not specific, but unpredictable start to finish. 
My skin was tough, tough as leather 
It had to be broken in, sat and stomped on over time 
It was miss-used, abused 
Unappreciated, contaminated and unpurified with uncleanliness toxic substances, people, places and things. 
Miss-guided with ill desires and will 
But by grace my transformation had begun 
Before it was to late there was a death to life ending activated 
In my darkest space, In my mess 
The shedding of my skin had begun 
There was a shift in my ways my desires my walk and talk 
My mind and heart had started to align up with the whispers of Gods divine word. 
My old skin of the one-track roads, addictions, attitudes and desires. 
I no longer craved or desired 
My mouth was filled with affirming empowerment for myself and others. 
I was able to articulate the things I felt, thought, wanted, and needed, liked and disliked. 
Speaking fluent in the moments with no more hesitation or reluctancy holding my words or fear. 
I am shedding my broken past of my childhood strongholds and obstacles. 
Letting go of my resentments and anything that has kept me in chains. 
I’ve moved from complacency to contentment with a peace and understanding I cant explain. 
Compelled to be of service and good works with a drive of passion energy and love. 
I AM SHEDDING 
No longer stagnant in my engrafted past 
Now free and flying through the fog, trauma and strongholds that once hindered me and my growth in so many ways. 
Today my mind is renewed with thoughts and visions of life and light. 
My new skin enables me to persevere on in faith and hope. 
Trusting and dreaming of an abundant life sober and free 
To properly handle and face life gratefully 
Overcoming any of its obstacles that may come up against me 
I am shedding with new profound revelations and abilities 
My shedding has provided me with a variety of new talents and gifts. 
Something that my old skin would have never allowed.... 
Continuing to shed “The Shedding of my Skin”


Premium Member Shooting Stars' Blessings

With shooting stars’ blessings* beyond celestial, I praise God with all my heart
Since His assured sufficiency-goodness for me will never depart
I believe that He will grant each of my desire:
And everything that for His honour I earnestly aspire
To stay constantly in the center of His perfect will
While in His compassion-care I'll keep still;
To fulfill His assigned task for me He has uniquely designed
As in His satisfaction I serenely bask to which I willingly resigned.

Midst shooting stars’ heavenly presence, I'll worship the Lord by His grace
Loving Him with my spirit, soul and strength all the days...
Hence, I yield to Him, upon faith's fervency, my supplication-filled hopes
Knowing that He knows what's best beyond my mind's scopes:
The complete recovery of my loved ones thru His divine miracle healing
Also the full restoration of those who are spiritually ailing, falling and failing;
The remarkable progress and developmental milestones of my special child
As well as those undergoing therapy, rehabilitatively-styled.

Never bereft of divine shooting stars’ experience, I press on toward victory
Guided by the guidance of Christ I must exalt for His glory...
Therefore, to His approval do I submit my dreams
Verily aware that His omniscience can overtake my vision-beams:
Foremost is the realization of an ever-ready service-providing foundation
Benefiting mankind thru its effective welfare-geared function;
Another, though not actually impossible, is the wondrous visit to the Holy Land 
Where my Saviour humanly resided according to what Sovereign had planned.

Along spiritual shooting stars’ glow, I'll serve my Creator midst challenges
Since I'm called to live for Him with His power-charges...
So then I cast to Him my worries and doubts for the future
In my faithful stewardship devotion He alone can nurture: 
Fruitfulness of ministry-involvement despite hardships
Earnestness of my prayer-consecration thru heavenly partnerships;
Persistence in every discipleship-engagement
Diligence in labouring for His kingdom's advancement.

*Ephesians 1:3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ.

August 14, 2019

3rd place, "Shooting Stars" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron; judged on 8/31/2019.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member It Is Written In a Star

.                                                             *
                                                              *
                                                              *
                                                              I
                                                             am
                                                             the
                                                             star
                                                             that 
                                                            shone
                                                           brightly
                                                         in the East
                                                          that night
                                                         so long ago
                                                      A heavenly light
                                                   that guided wise men
                                                 to the place where He lie
                                           In a manger on a blanket of hay
                     ****Christ -Immanuel - a radiant child - a gift from God****
                                            His only son who died  on a cross 
                                                 for teaching us to love and
                                                      help one another
                                                           for this is
                                                            the only
                                                               way
                                                              there
                                                               Will
                                                               ever
                                                                 be
                                                               peace
                                                                 on
                                                               Earth
                                                                  *
                                                                  *
                                                                  *
Form: Concrete

Premium Member MY FATHER'S GENTLE HANDS

MY FATHER'S GENTLE HANDS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember my father’s hands as a plumber’s hands—fiercely strong, calloused, rough, knuckle-battered, and dirty after a long-day’s work. Those hands shoveled; unclogged drains and toilets; repaired leaks; and installed pipes, commodes, and bathtubs. Those hands provided. 

I remember my father’s hands as a fisherman’s hands—perfectly patient, tenacious, self-confident, and unwavering as he held his fishing line and lure stabile, waiting for a fish to take the bait. “Keep your hands steady. Stay focused,” he prompted me when I asked him to teach me how to fish from his flat-bottom boat. Those hands fished longer than they ‘plumbed,’ rarely missing an opportunity to commune with nature, seldom losing a fish. Those hands fed.

I remember my father’s hands as a treasure hunter’s hands—firm, certain, and capable, listening intently to his metal detector’s tones learning to discriminate the sound a good coin makes compared to the choppy, broken sound a junk target makes. Those hands searched, discriminated, and found soulful answers to life’s complex questions and dilemmas. 

I remember my father’s hands as gentle healing hands—kind and comforting as he wiped away the tears that sometimes streamed down my face. Without saying a word, those hands loved, consoled, and encouraged—always righting my world.

I remember my father’s hands—full of strength and hope as he took my trembling hands in his. Those hands gave me courage—the courage to reach up in search of everything impossible, leaving me with the unbridled sense that to do anything less was the greatest impossibility of all. Even now whenever I need courage, I can feel his hand around mine helping me to feel invincible once again. 

In my mind’s eye, I often see my father’s hands—every line and every wrinkle. They told a story about the kind of man he was. I’ll remember my father’s hands for the remainder of my life. I’m grateful for him, for his enduring spirit and presence, which continues to grace my life despite his passing some years ago.

Dad's hands tell a tale
they did countless loving things
they touched and guided

they shaped and molded
they encouraged me to reach
they held the stars in place 

they held rising sun
they sought deep understanding 
they chased lonely moon
Form: Haibun

Premium Member GNRT DAY 16 TURTLE MOUNTAIN

We planned this trip with forethought…it’s the way we both prefer
but no matter how well we planned it…unexpected things occur:

Today instead of using our GPS to take us to Banff
I used a map …and apparently I still have a lot to learn…
because it wasn’t until we entered British Columbia 
I realized somewhere along the way…I’d made a wrong turn.

What made me realize I’d made a wrong turn?
that I wasn’t a great map-reading man?
because the province of British Columbia was never in our plans.

But on the lost part of our journey (when I turned left instead of right)
we drove through some beautiful country and saw some amazing sights.

We happened on Turtle Mountain…an awesome sight to see…
It’s where a massive rockslide buried part of the town of Frank…April 29, 1903.

There is a museum there to commemorate that moment…
of the Frank Slide and all the lives it took…
So, thinking we were heading in the right direction and had a lot of time,
we stopped to take a look.

The museum had this beautiful but eerie presence…from the moment we arrived…
as we learned about the devastation of that day…and heard the voices of those who survived.

If I hadn’t made that wrong turn…(which at this point was still unbeknownst to me)
we would have missed this wonderful moment to learn a little of Alberta’s history.

We would have missed this moment…
what happened on Turtle Mountain we’d probably never know…
and we wold have never stopped to pay our respect to those who died all those years ago.

It wasn’t long after Turtle Mountain (thank you Welcome to British Columbia sign!)
when I realized my mistake and turned the car about…
and once our GPS accepted my apology she guided us to Banff…
even took us on the scenic route.

Unexpected happenings will always arise in spite of our best wishes, plans and hopes….
the true measure of a vacation, however, is how we carry on…and cope.

We always leave time in our day for the many unplanned stops we make.
We know out there our new memories to be  collected
but we’ve also learned to embrace the unanticipated…the unforeseen…the unexpected.

And this trip we’ll add Turtle Mountain to the wonderful memories we’ve collected…
her memories join those of the mountains, the rivers and the lakes…
becasue no vacation would be complete…without a few memories of our mistakes
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Moonlight Adventure

The beautiful day begins in the house.
At the end of it, all that’s left of it is the moon,
Shimmering in all the night’s light.
A door to another world opens.
The only movement is a page turning in a book. 
Suddenly, without notice, an inconceivable object drops.
	
The thing jumps and twirls and once again drops.
A person from another time, the future, enters the large house.
The man, pacing back and forward, finally sends away the hovering book.
He magically transports it to the glistening moon.
Something like a black hole, a portal inexplicably opens.
The book vanishes in a fading yellow light.

The visitor sees something bright, a room full of light.
And inside, a piece of paper from the hands of a child drops.
The door of the room slightly, quietly opens.
A child and her grandmother are drawing and inscrutable house.
In a circle and a beam of inconceivable beauty appears the moon.
On the page, like the hovering object, once again, is the sight of a book.

The child explains that she has, many times that year, read the book.
But her grandmother slowly shows the girl the true “light”.
Now, the girl understands that she was wrong, and now appears the moon!
It comes closer and closer, and then, like a shooting star, down it drops.
The planet has gone down from the sky to have a conversation in the house.
The moon elegantly flies in, as large as an elephant, and its mouth opens.

And now all of the people come close together and a road opens.
The grandmother and child are guided by a rather large book.
In time, the home disappears; they have left the house.
The book vanishes, and all that leads them is a guiding light.
The key to a room, calmly, as if carried by the wind, drops.
“Come in and let’s have a talk,” says not a person, but a face in white, the moon.

The grandmother is surprised, for she is seeing the real, live moon.
A beautiful and long conversation through all the night opens.
Then as dawn arrives, blood-red, the tone of their voices drops.
Grandmother and child come out of the wonderful book.
Outside it is day, a new beginning, another lively light.
They walk o’er their field and talk till’ they reach the house.

In the morning, the otherworldly man leaves the house.
Also, he disappears in a now magnificent golden light.
That is the end; there are no more pages in this book.
Form: Sestina

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