Long Honour Poems

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


Lamentation 1

What is life without joy and happiness? 

what is life without self honour and pride? 

Upon this mountain hell i lay every day

Battered and frustrated

A man of sorrow, forsaken

My spirit groans for mercy which failed to come

All is taken away from me including the smallest pin

 

 

of what is life without  a mother? 

painted black and  red

I mourn every seconds for that pretty damsel

swifter that the eagle, my heart pounded

Joy whispers sadness in my ears

and tears becomes my friend

In despair i feast and dance sorrowfully

they mock and throw me around like a forbidden coin

 

 

men are evil, my spirit moans

Raising my eyes to see my ears

i could tell of their wickedness 

my goats, cows and jewelries gone

Hear me evil souls, the nature has its judgment

Once in life, it cometh and it hard to escape

It hard to escape the judgment

 

look at father native compound

it been taken away by strangers

those who once dance with us

In good fortune and share our breads and barns together

NOw, they are against us in fury

Dare point us in the face and laugh

Hear me old friends, nature has its judgment

The nature has its judgment, beware

 

In my old age. bitterly i weeps all day

in affliction and harsh labour

my foes had become my masters

 the roads to my hut mourns

my compound groans and grieved

None to comfort me, all my friends had betrayed me

All the splendor has departed in the air

 

 

this is why i weep and, 

my body shivers

My eyes overflow with water

All who pass my way clapped and laughed at me

Enemies open their mouth wide against me

my grieves are many and my heart fainted

i am in torment within, disturbed and  distracted

I remembered my wandering and pains

In the dark forest alone

Covered my self with anger

 

 

perhaps my father had sinned

And i didn't know and, 

we now bore the pains

Getting brad is at my life risk

Because of the sword beneath

look and see our disgrace

Those who pursue us are at our heels

my siblings scattered abroad sorrowfully

No one to caution us and drag us back

Till end i know the earth has it judgments

i shall sing beautifully with joy in other phase of life

when the gate shall open.

 

ALL RIGHT RESERVED (C)  JOHN CHIZOBA VINCENT 2013
Form: Elegy


Welcome To the World of This Certain King

"Bring Me Wine,Myrrh and My Sweetheart Daughter Anabella,
My Little Anabella Loves To Listen To The Voice Of Salome,Her Lyre and Her 
Happy Serenade..
Tell My Scribes To Be Fast About Compiling The Exploits Of Their King In His 
Last Battle Campaign..What Is a King Without An Updated Chronicle..
Send In My Little Prince For His Voice As He Reads Through His Texts Of 
Poetry..Lures The King His Father To a Closer Salient Walk With The gods..
Tell The War Generals To Give Me A detailed Brief of Our Next Campaign.."

At Morn..
"Send In The Finest Of Thy Young Warriors..So I can Test My Stealth In The Very 
Face Of Battle and Danger...
What Have Young Men Turned Themselves into..So Lazy,Wanton and Unmanly..
Off My Sight Before I Seek Thy Skulls This Very Instant..
(In Privacy With The Head Warrior)..Oh! Sarskaas Your Young Boys Are one of the 
Best in The Region My Training Sessions Are Truelly Refreshing..Tell this not to 
them Lest you build the Fruits of Pride and Treachery in their Young Minds..
Do Usher in My Seductive Belles to Show Off Their Waists in Acts of 
Poetry,Dance and Linguistic Body Embellishments..."

At Noon..
"You The Dreaded Most Notorious KING Of the Valley..A Demi god,Invincible and 
Indestructible..As I Speak Kiss The Sole Of My Feet and eat this dish of Camel 
Dung mixed with fine desert sand..
Ax-Man when he finishes his dessert Bring me his Head on My 'Royal Golden 
Skull-Dish'..
Usher in the Wise Men of the South..For I want to converse with them in this 
same spirit of Saliency..
Stuff the roast Calf portions with a lot of herbs and Spices..You well know its the 
Obsession of the Men from The south.."

At Sundown..
"Usher in the different contingents of Musicians to Entertain my Salient Guests...
Wrap My 'Lotus Fumes' Quickly so I can Smoke this Life's Troubles Aways..And 
See Through the One Eye of the gods in Solemnity and Blissful Thinkings,
Head Eunuch Do Send A Servant to The Harem..He Should Tell My Queens to 
get A-Ready For Their Lord is in Good Shape for Royal Rumbles and More..
Oh! My Faithful Knights your War plans were excellent..Go Now Enjoy and Excite 
your souls as much..Retain your honour and have the War at the Back Of your 
Minds..
Depart In Peace..Many A-Waists in The Harem are Restless.. 
I go in to Satisfy My Very Own.."
Welcome Again To The World Of That Certain King..
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Gregory

Gregory
You made  yesterdays news, invoking fears
You were found on the streets
Discarded and left to die alone
Thrown away like a piece of garbage with little thought
An inconvenience, as you struggled for your life
So many questions and no answers….
Your thoughts were dark and twisted and not appropriate
You did not fit the mould
Opportunities wasted as you oared against the current
The river washed you out and you choked to breathe
Your thoughts were numbed by substances
Chemicals that took away your sanity
Robbed you of your family and your home
Left your mother with a broken heart and tortured soul, struggling with forgiveness
Your father fought his own demons just long enough to remember your life
And then fall back into the abyss and darkness and forgottenness
Your friends cried as they thought of you.
Their scarred faces and souls with their big crosses around their necks
Their tattooed and tattered young zombie bodies
With their vacant eyes that bore too much pain to contain
Thin and remorseful souls 
with the tears that fell down their cheeks like rain
They loved you, you were a good friend!
It was said you would give the shirt off your back for a friend
Your first love wondered how she could have helped?
Your grandfather has lived too long to see this day
One more funeral in his 88 years
A reminder of his son of 17 that was also discarded.
Your brother tried to honour and play his guitar that you gave him
Tears were shed
Beautiful memories shared and kind words spoken
A life too young
Fell beneath the caverns of a broken world
Aunts write poetry to make sense of it all, desperately writing to keep your memory alive
Unspoken grief all around with nowhere to go
One more forgotten victim of an epidemic
Bi-polar they said
Addicted they said
As they sat in their offices high above the streets away from it all
Making policies to keep you safe. 
Safe injection sights to shoot poison to your veins
And kitchens with large pots of soup to sustain you until your imminent death
The great unravelling of a generation
You were loved by many
You were a beautiful soul, a good friend, son, brother, cousin
A beautiful child with big brown eyes and so much promise
Gregory always remembered
Rest peacefully sweet soul…

Grace Daub August 25, 2021 written after my nephew’s untimely death- homeless and on the streets
© Grace Daub  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Lord God, You Are My Father Almighty

June 3 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Psalms 68-70

Key Verse – Psalm 68:5 A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation.

LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY FATHER ALMIGHTY
                                                               
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty, 
surely arising to carry me to Your presence
Thank You for Your salvation that makes me rejoice with gladness’ essence…
Seeking Your will, I dwell in Your holy habitation’s iridescence 
Set me always in Your goodness to overcome solitary gloom-license. 

Lord God, You are my Father Almighty, 
securely establishing me by Your perfection
Thank You for Your stability that guards me from foolish instruction…
Standing upon Your grace, I praise You for Your benefits’ provision 
Seal me always with Your mercies, beyond depths of my transgression.

Lord God, You are my Father Almighty, 
steadfastly leading me to Your sanctuary
Thank You for Your sacrifice that causes me to follow You toward victory…
Submitting to Your wisdom, I come to Your enclosing hands of glory 
Strengthen me always by Your power midst my worry because of sin-misery. 
 
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty, 
sweetly comforting me in my weariness
Thank You for Your satisfaction that confounds me of my haughtiness…
Stepping in Your light, I abide in Your righteous zealousness 
Sanctify me always along Your cleansing pardon toward my holiness. 

Lord God, You are my Father Almighty, 
sincerely hearing me and my prayer’s plight
Thank You for Your shield that encloses me within Your deliverance-delight…
Singing for Your honour, I exalt You for Your help in my distress-blight 
Stir me always midst Your gentleness as from sorrow, I take my flight.

Lord God, You are my Father Almighty, 
straightly humbling me of my arrogance
Thank You for Your specialty in miracles gripping me with divine elegance…
Shining with Your radiance, I claim Your granted eternal inheritance 
Sustain me always with Your supplies along stewardship-assurance. 
 
Lord God, You are my Father Almighty, 
speedily rescuing me in Your timely haste
Thank You for Your servanthood example that prods me for works so chaste…
Staying in Your plan, I overcome worldliness’ tempting vanity waste 
Support me always in my quest to savor Your of heavenly taste.
Form: Rhyme

Infallible

Infallible 

I fall into the rain, beneath me;
My sky a glittery dust to thee,
Calling the joy I hath not met,
Thou cometh sweetly, but late. 

I fall into the cold, and just me;
Only I understand the clouds,
Oh! I cannot seek that ‘tis so loud,
Too much noise, sickly around me!

Those fallen tears around my head;
The soundlessness of one’s fate,
And hark, in such quietness,
The decrepit being of hotness!

Those ragged stars about my hair;
Closing in on me, and my air,
With hues dyed in drowned sunshine,
But proud still, in its dried signs. 

For such heat hath closed me;
Hath sifted me away from you. 
For such guilt hath haunted me;
Hath kept me away anew. 

For such a love, that thou felt;
But not yet felt again, today,
The gaze that I once beheld,
The words my heart cannot say.

Wherefore art thou, my beloved;
For t’is passion is tainted but pure,
To behold, to instill, to demure,
The meaning of this first love.

Wherefore art thou, my paint;
These poems hath not been said,
I see chaos, and not a flesh of fate,
I hath been loving in vain.

Wherefore art thou, my gaze;
Why cannot I see you through my face,
To hear such a bountiful voice,
To be about thee, in this bliss.

Wherefore art thou, my voyage;
I cannot stay this sober longer,
And hysteria, turning into sobs,
Like death, as my heart throbs.

Wherefore art thou, my colour;
Bestowed on thee my honour,
And age, with my fleeting skin,
Waiting in haste, to be seen.

Wherefore art thou, my winter;
Having too many doubts in summer,
Awaiting a lover that lasts,
By the moonlight and stardust.

Wherefore art thou, my rain;
And the sung that sings again,
To release my midnight, its pain—
To be my beloved, then.

Wherefore art thou, my kiss;
I can see your solemnity,
A thousand unsung melodies,
To bless, to make love to me;

Wherefore art thou, my art;
Too much of me is in my heart,
But none with a charm like thee,
Like the poet in fire, that in me.

Wherefore art thou, my sword;
I am bland now, and unheard,
Unheard as the rain that falls,
Amongst the sheltered walls.

Wherefore art thou, my piano;
The sound that arriveth late,
But not late to be my memento—
To remove all conscious hate.

Wherefore art thou, my word;
Improvised but reckless, my Lord,
Ah! Calm but poisonous, like me,
A fastidious silver, like thee.
Form: Rhyme


Ve Day In Italy

I remember it as if were yesterday
VE Day...well, not exactly
but, close enough for me
The actual surrender of Italy
May 2, 1945....but the damn Americans
Always the Americans wanted May 8
So, it's May 8th, but I'll always remember the second
We were in Milan...I love Milan
Hitler was dead, Mussolini was dead
I was alive, and in Milan
Rumours were out that the war in Europe was almost done
Nobody had told the Gerry's that though
Word came from Lubeck that they'd surrendered
I was twenty one years old, going on 50
War ages you...and not in a good way
I was in 6th Airborne and ready to go back
When the word came down
I remember kissing the waitress at our cafe
I kissed her hard, and with as much passion as a 21 yr. old can have
I didn't want to let her go
It was over
I kissed her for myself, and everyone in Milan
I kissed her for my folks in Clapham
I kissed her for her folks, wherever they were
I kissed her because we were free, they were free
I kissed her for my Uncle, who we lost early in 1941
Lost him during the blitz in London
England lost 430 people, we lost Uncle Cyril
That was enough, I was signing up
Now, it was over and I was moving on
I kissed her for everyone still waiting for the news
But, most of all, I kissed her for Leslie Testro, Rfn (18yrs)
Lance Cpl Thomas Wray (22 yrs), Lt. Dennis Edmonds (21 yrs)
and all the others attached to 6th Airborne
Who wouldn't know it was Victory in Italy
They were lost, not forgotten, never forgotten
Forever in our minds, our roll of honour
We celebrate them annualy
Few of us left now, but, those that are
go back to Italy every two or three years
back to Milan, and we toast them all
My waitress, Rosa Testrini
She was there as well, every year
Until five years back, we lost her
Now we toast her as well
We all have our honour roll
She was on mine
I found her again in 1950
We were on our second trip back
She met my wife, and I her husband
He's still there, and we talk
My Italian is better than his English
But, we talk as well as we can
I miss her, and the others
But that day, that glorious day in May
I've never kissed like that since
And my wife knows it
Sometimes she reminds me...
I laugh, and remind her....
What that day means...if it hadn't happened
We may not be kissing now
so, she'll never get that kiss
Only Rosa
Rest In Peace my waitress

Premium Member Listen To That Still, Small Voice


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!

An English Life

An English Life

It is midnight the Milk train pulls into darnall station
No ordinary passengers here
Steelworkers with their families
Loaded with fishing tackle, sandwiches and maggots
The Fossdyke in Lincolnshire, their destination
The fare Half a crown for happiness

The long walk in the dark,
A stairway to heaven in my memory
Dawn on the Foss and a cup of tea,
Fever in the blood, the first eel of the day
Our cane rods lovingly handed down from father to son.

I remember, Pheasants looking for mates
Shrieking their songs of love
Swans begging for scraps
Their majestic white necks, nodding,
 A greeting into their kingdom
 
The mist off the water revealing families,
being together, laughing, enjoying what was free.
For tomorrow the grime returns.
A conversation with a stranger then out of a bag,
The rabbits, sometimes hare, sometimes pheasant.
Onions and carrots, shortly follow
The smell, forever linked with summer
The scent of my childhood

Summers were hotter then;
At times I drank the Foss, for I was nature’s child
Being clean was never a priority,
Catching fish was, never killed always returned,
Our Covenant with Nature.
For it is the sport that we honour. 

And with age comes reflection,
Poor I may have been, my education neglected
But I have a Doctorate in nature, for I have seen the dawn
Away from the factories, where the pheasant runs free
And where the swan reins king, I was part of them.
It was here I learned what family was, 
To share, my last drink of pop with my neighbour,
 A simple life, maybe, but what a life

For I have seen what Constable painted
Lived every word that Wordsworth wrote
Understood the Fragrance of the Flowers
 And revelled in the poets dream.
I loved every colour, every sound, every scent,
 And every fish I ever caught.
 
Father and mother are gone now,
Never complained about their Station in life, 
For they found paradise on the Foss.

They left me the seeds to their heaven
And the key to my happiness
A key forged in a mans worth
To open up my soul to the beauty
That surrounds us all.

Dawn on the Foss, was my church
 My soul was cleansed here
And my heart was shaped here
My memories kept safe here
And the Foss fever still resides here
I will die on some bank side, one day
Rod in hand, and I will be content,
So Tight lines my fellow Anglers.

My Life As a Spiritual Seeker

My life as a spiritual seeker
I am a bless child, A spiritual seeker, I live my life with gratitude and appreciation for humanity, all manner of life is precious.

I embrace the good, bad and ugly that is part of being human, we are all capable of doing evil things, the creator gave us free will to make a choice, on which path that we will follow. Everyday I make a conscious choice to take full responsibility for my words and actions, stop look and listen moving forward with the truth and the courage of my convictions, with love and services for my fellow man and woman.

We are all on a spiritual journey, to find our true selves which leads us to the creator and our spiritual community.

A spiritual seeker is known by their sweet words and their telling of the truth, which is an offence to those who do not want to hear it, followed by their good deeds, virtues and services to others.

Beware of the person who's sweet words blind you to their greed and dangerous corrupt deeds.

The human race has lost its way, we have become computerized, bionictized  and metatized.

We do not connect with one another in a spiritual or human way any more
We are losing our ability to think for ourselves with our conscious mind
We are out of balance with the creator, but by the grace of the creator and spiritual seekers world wide sending out prayers every second that humanity and this planet survives.
A spiritual seeker embraces all persons beliefs, knowing that love is the common goal, there is but one creator, who created all things and love is the key.

I have had the privilege and honour on my life's journey to sit at the feet of Sathia Sai Baba, in his ashram in India, spent time in the Canadian mountains with a native Shaman, time in the jungles of Costa Rica with a native Shaman my greatest joy was spending many years in the company of my good friend His Eminence Abuna Yesehaq Mandefro, Archbishop of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, in the western hemisphere and South Africa, everyone of these spiritual teachers that I have traveled to came to me in recurring dreams over several months and years, before I found the courage to go and seek them, not one of them tried to convert me to their beliefs, they all welcomed me as a child of God.
I do not go any place unless the spirit guides to that place or person
I am a spiritual seeker

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

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