Long Hereby Poems
Long Hereby Poems. Below are the most popular long Hereby by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hereby poems by poem length and keyword.
Stillness in the Storm
It isn't too far from a conceivable image,
To perceive the vast and forgotten knowledge;
What was and still is a, yet-lost tho recoverable innate and
usable norm,
We have merely been tricked to stumble and to falter,
To see only this, yet to live and just perish..there,
According to our physical form,
That they abuse & destroy upon an altar,
Weather warfare, earthquakes and genocide, ultimately we do not care,
For we reside here and so will yet survive,
All around us - here in this, our current metaphysical realm,
The imposed Chaos though surrounding every border,
A precursor to ancient prewritten solution and clumsily enforced brutal order,
A metaphor for required need within ourselves to never fall,
Do we not see an opening here at all?
Free our minds and our souls so then; by just remaining calm, all existential fear from harm,
Calmness within, proceeding to calm without,
Our sitting and walking meditation,
Hereby dissolves the seeds of doubt,
For we are inherently spiritual of course,
This we've always known, aside all attempts to quench and stifle, All adverse intent by decrepit obstinate deceptive force,
Nothing could delete the basic gnosis of what one really is,
So never give up your regenerative powers again,
To recall and never be reborn,
Innate within us, dimmed and
disabled, but never once forlorn,
Assume what was once stolen, Resume serenity once again, and for goodness' sake,
Renounce their trickery, and false imprisoned slavery, Regaining whatever it was they thought they had to take;
So as to never ever slip from grasp,
From God the origin and Source,
Ascension to freedom from our past,
Where we are from, the spark of his Divinity,
To a mindfulness and a calmness,
That our persistence then so gives us,
Rooted in our physically unforseen ability,
A steadfast grip on all around us,
Providing those of us with a remarkable and resounding..
Stillness in the Storm
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
19th February 2023
During mass consciousness awakening from this age old enslavement, culminating in their forced Disasters, Fabricated Food Scarcity, Earthquakes &
a scripted, orchestrated WW3..
I was just drifting off,
A quiet snooze on the bench
Under the tree,
When I heard:
"I hereby declare this meeting open!
The frosts have given way,
The hush of winter loosens,
Spring has stepped up for Lady Day."
A busy chatter of squirrels start to gather
For the branch meeting.
Trees unfurling into bud
Yield a promise of nest eggs
Soon to pay dividends
For the nimble and resourceful
Tenants of the Woodland Guild.
There's a quiver of quills of feathery tails
As the squirrels brush up on stocks and shares -
Who's invested the what-s and the where-s?
Secret maps drawn in ledgers of lichens.
Arboreal advice given,
"We must maintain balance,
Reduce risk, but stay agile."
The squirrels of this midland bank listen,
They bustle and bristle.
Ears pricked, steady their nerve
Ready to go,
"Remember, time is your friend,
Impulse, your foe!"
Each squirrel a proud custodian
Of assets, ground hidden,
Hedgefunds.
A treasury of nuts and seed
Saved through thrift
In times of need,
Dug deep in the vaults of the earth.
Beech, pine, hazel and oak.
"We sit in these trees of plenty
Because of what squirrel folk planted before."
Then, with a scamper and flicker of tails,
They were gone.
One day, one time, God spoke to me.
The Creator who knows everything supposedly,
had a question that needed answering from yours truly.
"You're always helping others in need less fortunate than you,
and many of these people aren't particularly liked by you.
Why do you do all of the charitable things that you do?
What's your reward? What's in it for you?
Most times you commit these acts anonymously,
so you receive no recognition, no praise, no publicity.
I Am All And Know All but this baffles me.
Why do you do what you do SillyBilly?"
My reply to my Creator was simply,
"The meek shall inherit the earth and live heavenly
as promised by my Creator of all that is and will ever be.
My Creator has shared that People Helping People is the key
and I'm just doing what I can to relieve my Creator from some of the responsibility.
It's just my way of saying, Thanks For Creating Me."
My Creator then looked sadly down upon me
and said, "I don't know how to say this, but I'm very sorry.
You are hereby sentenced to hell for all eternity.
I need to work on this. Guess you could say it's my pet peeve,
but I don't tolerate any of they who brown nose their deity."
My time spent in hell has dispelled all of the rumors
about God not having a dark sense of humor.
Everyone really knows me
As always being loopy and light
Although I can be serious at times
Silliness usually wins the fight
It's really only quite recently
My happy side has become king
I used to get quite emotional
At the tiniest little thing
Which one of 'em would I rather be
A tiny wee bit of both
The romantic side is warming
But I like my happy side most
Perhaps it's just a cover-up
So my feelings don't get hurt
Joking around, making fun of things
As life throws out some dirt
How many people can really say
They're happy within their skin
Well I hereby make it known to all
I'm the happiest I've ever been
Good neighbors, sweet friends, Can you forgive me?
In long, still and creeping hours of study,
I can be stern and inaccessible.
My studies tax me to basest function,
resting, weight-like, on my wretched shoulders.
I, too-weary, ebb and at times, tend to
spare few feelings and gall, as if licensed.
Sometimes I go, unwillingly to class,
a melancholy lass. Please, if we talk,
speak gently. I labor under command,
and you may not be answered with reason.
Hereby hangs the tale, ladies just and fair.
Sleep, that dark medicine, has restored me,
my sanity and my better judgment.
Patiently receive my apology
and recall our many fun adventures.
~ Magnificent Marvin, the Soothsayer ~
Welcome to the parlor of Magnificent Marvin, the Soothsayer
Silence, please, as I peer into my as yet opaque crystal ball
Ah, friend, the mist is disappearing; the future is becoming clear
And so, enabled by the Powers-That-Be, the Magnificent Marvin
shall now prophesy...
I hereby predict -- nay, guarantee! -- that the removal of
Theodore Roosevelt's statue from the National History Museum
will -- please grip your chair tightly, because here it comes -- not
I repeat, will NOT, save one single Black Life in the U.S.A!
~ Voila!...The Magnificent Marvin has hereby decreed it! So be it! ~
If you're good or you’re bad
If you’re happy or sad
If you’re angry or glad
You are human
If you're bald or you're hairy
Or fearful or scary
If you’re brave or wary
You’re human
If you hate scrubbing floors
Or repainting your doors
Then you are indisputably…
Human
If you sing like a lark
Or your voice is a bark
Or you howl in the dark
You are human
If you’re normally nice
But you’ve made a device
To put rats on ice
You’re still human
If you order your cat
To go catch that rat
Then you’re daft as a bat
But you’re human
If you locked all your doors
Due to Texas Chainsaws
Shunned the sea after ‘Jaws’
That’s just human
But if you, unlike me
Didn’t cry in E.T.
Then I hereby decree
You ain't human
Why the long face, son? Did someone die?
Aw, Dad. I flunked my math exam
Did you do your level best, son?
I did, Dad. I studied so hard for the test
You know that's all I ask of you, son
And everything is always for the best. Right, Dad?...
What's up, son? Are those tears streaming down your cheeks?
Aw, Dad. I didn't make the varsity basketball team
Did you try your level best, son?
You know I did, Dad. I trained so hard last summer
That's all I can ask of you, my son
And everything is always for the best, Dad...
Is everything ok, son? You look like you saw a ghost
I did lousy on the law boards, Dad
Did you do your level best, son?
I don't know, Dad. I thought I did. But--
--But everything is always for the best, son. You know that by now.
You're right, Dad. Everything is always for the best...
Dad, you're not here with me on this Earth anymore
But your words live on inside me, and
They are of great comfort to me now, Dad
And you were right. Everything is always for the best--
I flunked the math exam because I was not meant
to be a statistician or a computer programmer
I didn't make the varsity team because I was not
cut out to be a great basketball player
I did lousy on the law boards because I never
really wanted to be a lawyer, not in my heart...
I'm a part-time poet now, Dad. That's right
My wonderful poetic friends and I are busy, busy
We create tempting, tasty dishes of Poetry Soup
~ And hereby serve up today's soup de jour, Dad
Everything really and truly is always for the best
February 11, 2019
Entry in "Repetition" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
The art of practicing goodness and kindness on line, is hereby dedicated to Danial Darling's book about those topics. He appeared on today's 700 Club on TBN.***
With so much hatred and rage over flowing like Noah's flood,
happening in our society today. It is spilling over to our online
digital world. It is filled with hurtful words of bitterness and hate.
But why wait until tomorrow, because tomorrow may never come?
To say you are sorry, for your hurtful words, and that you made a bad
mistake. The art of practicing goodness and kindness on line, can
help build bridges to better relationships.
But the online digital world must not replace face to face communication.
Which is still possible with COVID's guidelines for social distancing.
In order for us not to lose the art and the practice of personal
relationships and friendships.
This world would be a better and safer and gentler place. In order for us to live and raise our families. We must not neglect, the art of practicing goodness. And kindness both in person and online. We will enjoy having peace of mind. We will not always agree, but we must not forget to practice common courtesy.
We must put our faith and trust upon the broad shoulders of Jesus
Christ. He is both the author and source of our everlasting life. He paid the
ultimate sacrifice to redeem our lost souls! He always never forgot practicing
the art of forgiveness.
We are instructed to love one another as he first loved us. The art of practicing kindness and goodness is still relevant in our contemporary world we live in today. Just because we live in the 21st century! Does not mean, we can forfeit and leave behind. Common decency and common courtesy. Always remember, whatever you may do. its how you treat and respect others. Will become exactly the same way they treat and respect you!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
August 21, 2020
Big Crit authorizes any person who has been called a poet in print to
wear an arm-band bearing the Happy Face.
Big Crit decrees that anyone who wins a poetry prize shall in respect of
that honor give all subsequent public readings of his or her poetry
while wearing Groucho glasses.
Big Crit hereby commissions the production of an anthology to contain
every poem ever published in which the internet is referred to, all
copies of which are immediately to be burnt.
Big Crit ordains that henceforth all love poems shall be printed in
mauve ink on lavender paper and all war poems shall be printed in
Gothic type and all poems about poetry shall be printed upside-down
and backwards and all poems about one’s grandmother shall be printed
in black ink on black paper.
Big Crit enacts that from now on the verbal content of all paid
political advertisements shall consist solely of excerpts from the
plays of Aristophanes.
Big Crit orders all those possessing a budgerigar to teach said avian
to recite one line from the verse of William Carlos Williams;
and Big Crit further declares April 25th of each year to be Annual
Bird Bard day, on which the recitation of poetry shall be forbidden
to all but parakeets, so that there may be no ideas but in budgies.
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