Long Haughty Poems
Long Haughty Poems. Below are the most popular long Haughty by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Haughty poems by poem length and keyword.
Proverbs 18:12 “Before destruction the heart of man is haughty, and before honour is humility.”
In the stillness of my senses, I hear a voice
the voice – often distant, giving me its opinion
when I look at the world and see,
it is me that looks to be, the one I hear
telling me to give into the temptation to be
self-regarding, self-seeking, self-centered
greedy with my time, my kindness, my gifts
greedy, secretly greedy – so no one can see
what I often lack is an altruistic sincerity,
kindness that serves, giving into the voice
that is not really me – it is the One who I know
makes a way through the ego’s greed,
into the beautiful of mercy and grace, completing me
with a sensitivity that can only be found
when looking into the heart that has been reformed
by the gentle hand of One who died and bled,
One who spoke to my spirit when He said…
“let go of your pride – let go of your greed”
“listen to the wisdom of generosity”
“listen to the insights of One who died on a tree”
“listen to the understanding of compassion”
He told me that love is more than the voice I hear –
the voice that tells me to make myself clear
when all is said and done, it tells me to hear
the selfishness of my tone, the egotism
that comes from knowing – it’s what I want, what I crave
what I covet, what I desire…
that are the most important to me when I ignore
the voice deep within – the voice I hear, when
I hear the love that rests in my spirit
when I let go of my pride, and hear what He’s revealing
through a compassion, a grace, an unending faith – love
that comes to say…
on the cross, He made a way
on the cross, He came to say
whatever comes, just kneel and pray
to the One who refused to be self-seeking
with His love, His gift to all people…
He silenced the doubting, the darkness, the greedy
With LOVE – unconditional…
He taught us the meaning, of listening to that voice
the voice – the selfless pleading…
spoken by the Creator who had a plan
to restore each soul and I know He can
free us from our pride, our selfish greed
change our entire lives, silence our egos
and remind us what it means
to love beyond our greed – to love because all we need
is this Jesus who came to breathe…
life into those who believe, faith into those who see
the love that will ever be… the answer for you and me!
Haiku Translations II
Illuminated by the harvest moon
smoke is caught creeping
across the water...
Hattori Ransetsu, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Fanning its tail flamboyantly
with every excuse of a breeze,
the peacock!
Masaoki Shiki, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Waves row through the mists
of the endless sea.
Masaoki Shiki, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I hurl a firefly into the darkness
and sense the enormity of night.
—Kyoshi Takahama, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
As girls gather rice sprouts
reflections of the rain ripple
on the backs of their hats.
—Kyoshi Takahama, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Unaware it protects
the hilltop paddies,
the scarecrow seems useless to itself.
—Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Ebb-tide:
everything we stoop to collect
slips through our fingers ...
—Chiyo-ni, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Fading memories
of summer holidays:
the closet’s last floral skirt...
—Michael R. Burch
Scandalous tides,
removing bikinis!
—Michael R. Burch
Haughty moon,
when did I ever trouble you,
insomnia’s co-conspirator!
—Michael R. Burch
Ascendance Transcendence
by Michael R. Burch
Breaching the summit
I reach
the horizon’s last rays.
Moore or Less
by Michael R. Burch
for Richard Moore
Less is more —
in a dress, I suppose,
and in intimate clothes
like crotchless hose.
But now Moore is less
due to death’s subtraction
and I must confess:
I hate such redaction!
no foothold
by michael r. burch
there is no hope;
therefore i became invulnerable to love.
now even god cannot move me:
nothing to push or shove,
no foothold.
so let me live out my remaining days in clarity,
mine being the only nativity,
my death the final crucifixion
and apocalypse,
as far as the i can see ...
The Red State Reaction
by Michael R. Burch
Where the hell are they hidin’
Sleepy Joe Biden?
And how the hell can the bleep
Do so much, in his SLEEP?
Red State Reject
by Michael R. Burch
I once was a pessimist
but now I’m more optimistic
ever since I discovered my fears
were unsupported by any statistic.
Keywords/Tags: haiku, nature, moon, water, sea, night, rain, dark, memories, tides, insomnia
Electorate on tenterhooks until...
outcome of 2020 presidential election announced
Polling places slated to open seven o'clock
in the morning November third two thousand twenty
heightened tensions will strain patience
to breaking point concerning
extreme anticipation common joe experiences
(biden his/her time)
regarding which candidate trumpeted
as de facto commander in chief of United States.
Carpe diem the echoing refrain
heard and seen dispensed and broadcast
across telecommunications medium
cuz the very survival of democracy at stake
ruthless political machinations employed
to seize inalienable codified rights
couched within Declaration of Independence
and Constitution, written ethos, dogma, credo...
compiling aggregate of fundamental principles
or established precedents that constitute
legal basis of a polity, organisation
or other type of entity and commonly
determine how entity governed.
Understanding North American government
inextricably found yours truly agape
when chance occurrence brought hefty tome
into self assigned reading material
which storied author David McCullough
wrote engrossing John Adams biography
I read aloud with measured deliberateness
clearly enunciating each syllable of every word
despite runaway enthusiasm
to acquire historical premise
whereby original thirteen colonies
teetered on brink of immediate collapse
soon after majority representatives
swore fealty among themselves
despite ragtag soldiers
easily overwhelmed courtesy
fighting force of British Empire.
As a staunch affiliate of democratic party,
one veritable common joe
just biding his time,
I trumpet how crass
deleterious, egregious, fractious...
usurpation of power
jackknifed, kickstarted and linked
endemic flood (gushing) hatred
malicious, nefarious, opprobrious putrescence
laid down at the feet
upholding seventy five inches
of corpulent doughy flesh
regarding one conceited, haughty, and obstreperous
politician orchestrating machiavellian leitmotif.
Mark my words, that bull headed incumbent
will clamor, foment, incite, loose chaos
if Democratic candidate garners more votes
at the ballot box nsync with absentee citizens
casting their lot with the worser of two evils
otherwise put head between legs,
and kiss tuckus goodbye,
cuz hell in a handbasket looms on horizon.
January 20 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Exodus 8-10
Key Verse – Exodus 8:1 And the LORD spake unto Moses, Go unto Pharaoh, and say unto him, Thus saith the LORD, Let my people go, that they may serve me.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY SERVICE COMMANDER
Lord God, You are my service Commander,
stretching over me Your hand of authority
Thank You for bringing me to Your realm of submissive humility
I entreat that You take away my arrogance that makes me haughty…
Please forgive my selfishness and carnality.
Lord God, You are my service Commander,
stirring me with Your finger of compassion
Thank You for building me up to rise above weak devotion
I know that You are omnipotent to break my rebellious reaction…
Please forgive my stubbornness and corruption.
Lord God, You are my service Commander,
sacrificing for me by Your heart of lovingkindness
Thank You for binding me to Your gracious dealing against deceitfulness
I trust that You remain in Your caring faithfulness…
Please forgive my unbelief and doubtfulness.
Lord God, You are my service Commander,
stabilizing me through Your mind of work-fulfillment
Thank You for beholding me to grow within Your designed development
I realize that You want the best for my heavenly achievement…
Please forgive my discontentment and lack of commitment.
Lord God, You are my service Commander,
strengthening me along Your power of miraculous deed
Thank You for breaking me of my worldliness that leads toward vain greed
I understand that You must discipline me since such I need…
Please forgive my disobedience-creed and pride-breed.
Lord God, You are my service Commander,
satisfying me by Your presence of divine signs
Thank You for blessing me when I follow Your truth, bright light that shines
I beseech that You transform me along faith which virtuously refines…
Please forgive my motives and desires outside Your standard lines.
Lord God, You are my service Commander,
settling me toward Your throne of prayer responses
Thank You for blinding me against darkness of materialism’s curses
I find that You never leave me to be overtaken by evil practices…
Please forgive my clinging to and craving for worthless influences.
January 20, 2023
What a fella what a lovely fella happened their way
What a generous fella to kindly offer all these gifts and his services for free
He was of the mind to give them some of his grub
But he waited until it got rank and mouldy first
He then offered them a sip of his tea
But thought it best to spit in it first
He was generous with his backhanded compliments
never missed a beat in his dance of deceit
his two faced stance well maintained to entice the flies to his web
Bothered to put on a show to appear likeable and relatable too, what a gent
As he knit picked at their lives and put a spin on every word they uttered
he meant to gently pump them up for intel for reasons known only to himself
A mission that sadly bounced hard and flopped
For that last bit I blame who ever created the character of James Bond
Has the likes of him curtain twitching and meddling for dear life
Convinced every foreign woman wants to get their mits on them, I mean resounding yuck please!
His exotic fare he elaborately served on a bed of fake pleasantly, seasoned with a dash of bogus laughter
He seemed appalled that they could be handed a chance at anything at all
before he got to take at least ten more chances that he doesn't even need
God forbid anyone else aside from him gets any upliftment
Joy should start and end only with him and his kin
and compassion should only ever be pointed his way
He enjoys his loot only when others stay beneath him, and thrives when disparity amounts
There is a hole where this man's soul ought to be
And that's if it was ever there in the first place
Maybe all he ever had is this humongous gaping emptiness
that he has to fill at all odds because its eating him alive
It seems it can only ever be filled by him generously spreading misery and contempt
He tries to fill it with greed and a haughty demeanour
Little does he know it will never suffice
Somethings no amount of wealth can ever buy
Maybe he never got enough hugs as a child
I mean one might be born into abject poverty
but it never stops their parents from raising loving compassionate children, one hug at a time
Sometimes that's all a soul needs to thrive
What a fella, poor fella with a stone for a heart
and pockets weighed down by gold
Form:
***** NONPARTISAN SHAM (BULL SH*T) SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN *****
Innocuous, yet unhealthy threat looms across
(air/radio) telecommunications devices
linkedin with plenti networks that criss cross
even primitive computers utilizing DOS
by George, which archaic code
once powered Mill on the Floss,
now long since covered over
with flora I lichen and recognize as moss.
Surgeon general (Jerome Michael Adams
20th Surgeon General of the United States)
strongly advises against, yet he does not boast
threat looms large coast to coast
watching more than five minutes at most
equivalent machination, the following I post
re: guarding haunting experience
analogous visit by fashionably late ghost
2020 presidential election coverage
able, eager, and ready to prey upon host
whereby curious George experiences
feeling noggin fried like toast.
A carefully worded (fake) communiqué
purportedly the brainchild of one freak
Matthew Scott Harris,
whose jargon puzzling as deciphering Greek
long story short while in utero,
he experienced cerebral leak,
said cheesy mousy man no longer meek
quite evident courtesy literary pique
his haughty style aiming to characterize
generic guy as self anointed Sheikh
sought after acceptance tepid and week.
Nevertheless he speaks/writes truth to power
aforementioned serious risk steeped within
social media platform sensory overload I ascribe,
whereby subliminal messages
voter's blitzkrieg does bribe,
albeit unconsciously, hence me subsequent rhyme
equals forewarning in league with mild diatribe
which receptive yours truly can transcribe.
All joking aside
oversaturation soaking up
presidential election aye chide
against viewing in excess (five minutes at most)
affixed to live streaming broadcast
can find thee steadfast staring getting bug eyed
thus hoop fully let moderation serve as guide
cuz the eventual outcome re: guarding
president elect political experts cannot hide
though be wary lest premature ejaculation trumpets
sore loser candidate, that
bombastic egotistical ignoramus lied
cuz prejudice nsync with pompous pride
for four years to many
the webbed wide world let him slide,
now as one common Joe,
a hardened criminal he best be tried.
The god of greed, of power and of haste
Has wrought in silence all the joy of Love
From hearts of men and, in his anger, placed
His shield of gold upon the throne above.
Far down below, among the crowd dispersed
By petty brawls, debate and brutal screams,
His slaves sweat out with every breath immersed
In search of treasures and of silver streams.
The clever lord smirks slyly on his seat,
Amused that his devices are in swing
To daze the race of men. Let them repeat
The wrongs which, when committed, make him king!
Despite his mighty craft, the master does not know
That somewhere far, well hidden from his stare,
A greater force, well known to be his foe,
Is stronger still, all-wise and truly fair.
This power trumps the lies and masquerade
Which avarice and fraud have set in place.
This ray of light, which does not fear the blade,
Is earnest Love, immune from all disgrace.
In her angelic shrine, she is unmoved
By selfish men, and boastful malice shown
To those who prize their honesty, who proved
That honest life is often life alone.
Unseen and quiet, she descends to aid
The weary and aggrieved, who lose their way,
Who stumble blindly and whose powers fade
As they traverse the world in gloom and disarray.
The haughty master sees but worries not,
His aimless servants droning on bewitched,
But in the purest heart there lies a plot
Which, every minute, is by Love enriched.
With time and faithful patience, devotees
Of truth, humility and unrelenting grace
See, deep within, a vision which foresees
Relief from grief and justice for their case.
And thus, although the selfish men at large
Live out their days in lassitude or pride,
A few remain in the majestic barge
Of those who prove that kindness has not died.
Such is the world: a place of right and wrong,
Where those in power laugh—though they are blind—
And those who seek the truth are bold and strong,
Though very oft to silent pain confined.
O, reader, if you’ve loved and grieved,
Allow these humble words to urge and plead:
Though you were slighted, or indeed deceived,
May you forgive the world and be forever freed!
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
"Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you."
Bible- James 4:10
Walk the Tightrope
The tightrope of life I ever do tread
With fear in the deep sea of pride to fall
And wish in fields of humbleness* to head,
With zeal to the sky of glory to rise
Through flow of verses from quill of my pen
And at heel of a humble hill to lie.
The tightrope of life I ever do walk
With dread to dip in the ditch of ego
And the glow of the inner self to stalk,
With fright to sink in the well of conceit
And yearning humility to relish
In a bid to raise sparks of my spirit.
The tightrope of life I ever do stroll
With scare of being tagged with vanity
And crave to be a humble, simple soul
Who can dust his hands with crest of the soil
And longs to step on the journey of life
Without any fear of his coat to spoil.
On the tightrope of life lies a fine line
Between a pinch of positive pious pride
And vile ego that needs to be defined
To render the journey of human life,
Whether across deserts or oceans,
Free from frantic struggles and stormy strife.
The tightrope of life I tread with balance,
Moving slowly with gleams of humbleness
From haughty folks to mark the difference,
Embracing modesty as a close friend,
Sparing a foul tongue against one and all
And holding in high respect every man.
I grew up with Phillip Jones who was our doctor’s son.
We built huts amongst the ti-tree and fired the odd slug gun.
We went through school together and we hung out up the street;
played footy and played cricket, and there’s girls we used to meet.
But that was many years ago when we were in our teens,
when life was free and easy and we were full of beans.
Circumstances ripped our time apart as circumstances can …
I took on the factory life and Phillip followed his old man.
Doctor Jones our family doctor continued in his trade;
he kept our little town alive with choices that he made.
Babes were born and people died, and there were heart attacks.
He tended those who don’t feel pain and hypochondriacs.
But now our doctor is retiring for he’s turning sixty-five,
sending shock waves through the sick on how they will survive,
But Doctor Jones destroyed the rumours that affected everyone,
by reassuring all his patients, their new doctor is his son.
So Phillip Jones is coming home, my good old school day mate,
and he’s going to be our doctor which really should be great.
I’ll make sure we catch up and of course that’s what we did,
to talk about the good old days when we were just a kid.
I tell you I’m excited when invited to Doctor Jones’ place,
he’d put on a dinner party asking me to show me face.
Doctor Jones has put his feet up now since Phillip stole the show,
and is treating all the patients that his father got to know.
But Phillip’s changed an awful lot; he’s inherited a plum.
All he spoke about is college and he made me feel like scum.
He’s turned into a ‘know all’; a pompous haughty cad,
and he even claimed with disregard; he’s smarter than his Dad.
Doctor Jones took on the challenge “Why do you say that Son?”
And Phillip said “My father dear, for example here is one.
Mrs. Wenn the wealthy spinster took heed of my suggestion,
and after all her troubled years, I have rid her indigestion.”
Doctor Jones picked up his napkin and patted both his lips,
“Son, I’m very proud of you but you’re still needing tips.
Sometimes I think it doesn’t pay to overload with knowledge …
indigestion suffered in this case - is what put you through college.”
"When God given gift is mistaken as self earned power, people become arrogant and arrogance leads to fall" By Poet.
The crow we see, was once a beautiful bird
Sweet as a lark and white as a swan
The world stood in rapturous glee
As he poured out melodies with such elan
Proud and haughty over his gorgeous form
He reckoned himself to be the crown of creation
To all other birds he was a cynosure of charm
And he feasted on their praises of mad veneration
Presumptuously dwelling on altitudes high
He thought the world was revolving round him
Looking at others with contempt and disdain
He wanted everyone to dance to his whim
At morn when other birds twittered and chirped
And sang devotional lays in praise of God,
The crow refused to sing any song
As he deemed himself to be far above the Lord
God wanted to teach the arrogant bird a lesson
A messenger with warning from Heaven was sent
‘Unless you turn humble and with respect others treat
God’s wrath will fall and you shall lament’
Sneering at this and rebuking the terrestrial envoy,
With haughty arrogance, the crow went his way.
By dusk, he flew down to perch on a tree
Alas, the branch gave way to his utter dismay!
Losing balance, he slid down into a can of tar
Disappointed was he as he emerged all black
But hoped that a dip in water would wash away the dirt
And once more he would be, to his former self back
Soon God’s messenger with ire reappeared in a vision
This time, stark were his words of admonition
‘Henceforth you and your progeny will all be black
Ugly in appearance, scavengers you shall be known!
‘In place of the tuneful melody, you were blessed
Your sound will be sonorous and rough’
Saying this, the apparition vanished out of sight
And the crow knew his life ahead would be tough
He waited impatient for the dawn to break
Before all other birds were up and awake
He decided to try and test his sound
And was startled at what came in the wake
“Caw…. Caw…. Spurted the sound from his beak
Jarring and raucous, harsh and husky!
While other birds laughed over and celebrated his fall
The poor defeated crow was left grouchy and dusky