Long Healed Poems
Long Healed Poems. Below are the most popular long Healed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Healed poems by poem length and keyword.
YESHUA JESUS MY KING AND ME
In the beauty of His Holiness,
I am beautiful,
I am righteous in His righteousness, and free.
His amazing grace,
Brought me here to this place,
His redeeming blood ever cleansing me.
Set on High,
I am bowed at His feet,
His eternal love has lifted me.
I am only here today,
On Christ’s altar I lay,
On His throne, now as Lord, Jesus seats.
Let God arise within me,
I have His favor and victory,
For who can stand against Him,
Every weapon made of them,
Shall not prosper that is formed against me.
As He is, I am here in this world,
For His glory, He delights in me,
I am blood bought and redeemed,
From His heart loving beams,
Yeshua Jesus my King and me.
Let them come, let them go,
end of story,
Wrong choices are made in a hurry,
All that glitters isn’t gold,
When the story unfolds,
No earthly gain compares to His glory.
Whom Christ has made free,
free indeed,
Broken pieces healed instantly,
How the story ends,
Is how it begins,
Yeshua Jesus, Christ my King and Me
Sweet like a cherry, Hot like the sun, One morning she became whole once more. No guilt no shame
Just pure again, Down Highways no one enjoyed she felt her heart covered in gold. One little glance
With one gust of wind, He blows my mind like a Breeze. I felt like dropping to my knees, Screaming up there. Dads gone do I really deserve this. the feelings unsure felt too real to her though, She is Thankful even when it’s unknown. she wanted to be healed and shown, He guided her to the doors with hopes of taking her fears and holding them close. Closer than ever before, She fears nothing when she is alone, she stays strong, you are her lucky charm.
Jesus took my anguish,
When His friends turned away from Him,
So there is no need for me to feel alone.
Jesus took my fears,
In the garden at Gethsemane,
So fear no longer has any hold over me.
Jesus took my shame,
When He was wrongly accused, stripped and beaten,
So there is no need for me to be ashamed.
Jesus took my pain,
As He bore the lash which tore the flesh from His back,
And by His stripes I am healed;
And He took my death,
As He died on the cross for the sins of us all,
So death no longer has any claim on me.
He took it all on Himself so God would not turn away from me.
God can't look at sin because it's so filthy.
Sin can't enter Heaven so neither could I;
But then He was there.
He reached out to me though I was unworthy.
He called me by my name.
He knew me,
And He told me not to be afraid --- anymore.
Inhabited pain,
Cannot be given to others;
It’s never transferable.
Self inflicted pain
Can only reside in self:-
It is yours to bear.
Residential pain
Is not beyond eviction:-
Inject peace and love.
Self-loneliness blinds—
You cannot hide from yourself:-
That shadow is you.
Ask, seek, and listen—
There is a knock at your door:-
God comes for the pain.
Pain is healed with love;
Where love is pain cannot be:-
Love one another.
Healing together—
One for all and all for one
Onederful onement.
Let's always praise God
For the trinity oneness
Of His supreme love:-
Although I was retired and full of energy,
My heartbeat was irregular and slow.
They would beat slow, pause, and restart.
I never saw it coming, but I was slowly dying.
I passed out several times, but still was clueless.
I quickly awaken after each pass-out, but there
Was one occasion when I passed out in the kitchen.
I was all alone and asleep on the kitchen floor, and my
Son awakened me. Had I been home alone, I would have
Surely died. Sometime after that incident and after turning
65, I went in for a physical exam. My primary doctor, among
Other things, checked my heart and referred me to a cardiologist.
The heart specialist spoke plain language to me with great analogy.
The cardiologist informed me that our hearts come with a pacemaker,
But mine was like a 6-cylinder engine with 2 or 3 spark plugs malfunctioning.
Their solution was the insertion of a pacemaker that would greatly assist my
Heart. With an 8-year life span, the pacemaker would interact with the heart. It would set the pace for the rate and number of beats per minute normally
Required for me. I was reluctant to their remedy, but 6 months later, I was Provided a pacemaker. I tell you, she's the size of a wrist watch, and sitting
Just below my left shoulder is a warrior, a tropper, a pace-setter who has been Fighting for me and my heart for 7 years, keeping us alive. With one pill and
An aspirin a day, my pacemaker, expected to serve me for 8 years, is doing Just fine. God, the love of my life, is GOOD, and His Grace is sufficient.
051422PSCtest, How you live or have been healed from a difficult and challenging health condition, Angela Tune
Today’s a day for looking back
To see how we have fared.
Did we tackle all our problems?
Get some broken things repaired?
Have horizons been expanded?
Were some buried truths revealed?
Some relationships cemented?
Have some painful wounds been healed?
Did we rise to every challenge?
Or just skulk away to stew?
We can tally up the columns
For an end-of-year review.
But the numbers do not matter,
If we chose to grin or grieve.
We can wipe the blackboard clean,
For tonight is New Year’s Eve.
So we’ll celebrate an ending;
All the bad will disappear
As we set the clock to zero
And begin a brand new year!
To have dodged a bullet is heard by me as a clear soft symphony, it reminds me that all is a dramatized sigh of relief whether stressed, sad, annoyed, mad or worried, it all ends the same with the word that is second most heard than your name; “it is all going to be okay” whether in your head or said. To have dodged a bullet is the best kind of relief, either thought of or heard. Being told you have dodged a bullet is like someone whole willingly taking out the knife stabbed in your back you thought you could never remove until sane. To be told you have dodged a bullet is a moment of silence out of the few you rarely experience, the soft ringing in your ear, confused thoughts on how you got here, it is like the destination you so desired. To the hopeless butterflies flying away from my stomach, my terrible luck and the universe I relied too much on for comfort, I apologize. Still experiencing the comfort of the silence, life is still not over yet. With life being so unfortunate of course there's more stories to the questions I push into the back of my mind due to fear . To be loved is to be seen, and how am I capable of experiencing love if what they try to seek frightens me. Love is a beautiful thing, it's something that truly excites me. But so is my health and my love for individuality. Obsession turns into disgust,and dishonesty gives it life, whether playing into it or saying it. To the lies that are now dead. To the boy dressed nice holding the gun of a masked persona, I couldn't see the shades of heartbreak on his coat. Who would pay attention when being held at gunpoint? He missed his shot to a 3rd degree, to have dodged a bullet has given me a clear view, breathing in a fresh start away from the boy I thought I knew. “To have dodged a bullet” I can say it a million times and not think about that one horrible time. To have dodged a bullet is within itself one of the most beautiful lines i've been told that has healed my mental heath. Whether it was a lie to save my sanity, I will never forget the person who said it to me.
Side note: this poem, you could say, healed me while writing it, this was my closure. This is what kept me going. The reason as to why I wrote this happened in real time. I will never forget the girl who said this to me in a time of need. We weren't all that close either. Thank you.
The Land's Passion
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
A cloud of darkniss
A flag of empty
South Africa a
State of dispair
In hell over our
Sea's , mountain's , ground's
Our soul's are dough
We are not rising
He is corruption
He makes distruction.
South Africa out of service
A president sour
Blaming other people
The poor people
Their income stolen
For the dynasty
They live in marble
Taking our coins
In favour tender
He giggles louder
Our land of gold
Passionate in hearts
Will not be sold
By one man rogue
The people rise
Their souls unite
The time has come
To dismiss the rot
Who rapes our Land
The people's wrath
A time of anger
At boiling point
Our jubilation waiting
In the land
His stealing hand
Our greater stand.
The passion when
Our land is healed.
watching you drive away via the phone receiver
after an argument that left me riddled with confusion
wondering how we got here
i guess i am the kid that you choose to see me as again
i want to be the passionflower of your spotlight
yet and still when i am given the key to that special place that you possess,
i am a block of ice overwhelmed by chattering knots
while in the dark of my lonely, drafty apartment, i can still smell
the rare scent of the definition of you
all of a sudden i become that certain type of toad aching to be healed
i guess i am the kid that you choose to see me as again
i want to be the passionflower of your spotlight
however and nevertheless when i am offered the special welcome mat of your arousal,
i am a mummified maniac driven insane by an overtly elongated monotony....
I am Neo Lechwenyo,
Born under the September skies,
On the 19th day, in ‘07,
A boy raised in Kimberley,
In a world where shadows and light collide.
I grew up fatherless,
A silent ache in my chest,
A story untold,
A man not there to teach me how to be a man.
But in his absence, I found strength—
To create, to dream, to rise,
To find my voice in poetry, in music,
In the rhythm of words that healed my soul.
I am the son of a woman who gave all,
Who left too soon,
But her love lingers in the echoes of my heart,
Guiding me even in the darkest moments.
Her memory, a beacon I follow—
Even though the world was never kind,
She gave me a fire, a passion,
To carve my name into the world’s fabric.
Through my art, I tell my truth—
In poems and songs,
I confront my anger,
My hurt,
The things that tried to break me.
I use my music to channel what’s been buried,
To speak the pain, the love,
The battles I fight every day.
And then, I met her—
Ntshepeng,
The light in my world,
The one who turned my darkness into something pure,
A love that’s beyond words,
A word I created: Lovinity.
A love that isn’t in the dictionary,
But lives in the space between us,
In every touch, every laugh,
Every moment we share.
I am not defined by my losses,
Nor by the absence of those who should’ve been there.
I am defined by what I create,
By the way I choose to rise from the ashes,
By the way I love,
And the way I keep fighting—
Every single day.
I am Neo Lechwenyo,
A poet, a musician,
A dreamer,
A son,
A man who knows pain,
But knows how to turn it into purpose.