Long Hope against hope Poems
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Life's journey is always uncertain
We never know whether it'll be happiness or pain
It's hope that'll always keep us alive
And for a better future we all shall strive.
And sure there'll be a brighter tomorrow
And everything will be okay
We'll be having a good good life
And that's what, my conscience say.
I have seen the best of times
And seen the worst as well
But time is a great healer by itself,
And how? It's only for time to tell.
The worst days will pass off
Paving the way for good
Our good old days will be back I say
Let's just do our duties, what we should.
But amidst of all these chaos
There are some lessons learnt,
That should we defy nature
We shall bear its brunt.
But for now let's all hope against hope,
And Let's pray that everything be fine
For sure it'll be a good good life
And we all shall rise and shine.
With a huge geometry of bones and ribs
my father stands amidst us,
like an age-old iron pillar,
high durable, tensile and unbrittle
he is, the lonesome cantilever.
Though I know not,
perhaps he could be in immense pain,
or suffering from his terrible wounds;
but neither I feel nor touch
as I fear;
may be I his last crutch
or be the solve of sandal paste
on this body for ever.
Though I know nothing,
perhaps, for the sake of ‘oil and salt’ world;
he’d be even ready
to sleep on the bed of thousand arrows
and at the same time
he hides every sensitive worldly elements
within him, as far as
a star fish does every time
when it comes across a danger.
And always, I cannot move over
to his world of desires,
it’s the same show
the same grief
day after day.
The foot prints of his journey through life
are not lost in the sand storms of poverty
and in my mind as well.
Like the third bank of ever flowing river
Like a lonely Oar of way lost solitary boat
Like a distant star in the dark sky
Like a defiant soldier in battlefield
My father-
with dry tears and black blood
in his toil and lethal hands
continues his combat fight
against treacherous time
and treadle fate.
And with a twingle of hope against hope,
I feel every odds of life
and promise to myself a thousand times
‘I can be a nearby dawn
to remove the everlasting dark night’,
as my thoughts don’t go
with the distanced sun.
Low spirits and utter despair,
She had lost all her flair,
Time stagnated !
How long could the wait last,
Dejected heart to the full to blast,
Incurable hopeless !
Sun could not shadow gloominess,
Her very being deprived of happiness,
Hope against hope !
The injury quite a deep and severe,
His vengeance extremely clear,
The wretchedness !
Don't suppress else will depress,
Just look beyond there's life,
End up melancholy, live to strife,
Shun sadness !
No recession can everlast,
Essential to counter depression is,
Dispassion,
Dissociate,
Flagellate,
Backfire,
Slam your passion !
Be sassy and warble !!
Written on 30/5/14
Contest- slamming battle round -2 ( my highs my lows)
Sponsor- Verlena S Walker
Awarded 3rd place
Now for contest- Any old poem will do #2
Sponsor- SKAT A
We're the worthless one
The world has no place for us
Street is our business
Under bridges is our palace
Palace of laziness
Addressed and mocked by the privileged
We were name without ceremony
Wayward, beggars, lunatic, fool…
Yet they can do without us
We are less privileged but we’re not less important
The fortunate are fortune in chain
Newspapers bear witness of untold wealth
We are materially deformed not mentally deformed
We are agree to be poor for them to be rich
The just shall judge the unjust
There is hope against hope
Our mouth, hand, brain are fertile
There is a hidden talent therein
We are judged by what they see
We worth more than their foresight
Amidst us talent has buttered our bread
Akon, African China, Wande Coal, are our testimonies
At all state we are vital
Poor state we protect their life at our expense
Our talents graze their occasion
We are not worth-less
We are king in the palace of laziness yet busy to entertain
We are beggars yet command your blessing
You need us more than your worth
You can use a heavy blindfold
Tie it to a chair
Throw it in a waiting trunk
Take it far from here
Ask it out fishing with you
Miles away from shore
Grab it when its back is turned
Toss it overboard
Hope against hope
That it'll give up the ghost
But love for loves sake
Will always make its way back home
You can climb the highest mountain
Push it off a cliff
Peer over to the bottom
Watch it as it hits
Place it in a rocket
Shoot it to the moon
While it's up in orbit
Pack your stuff and move
Though you would think by now
That by now you'd know
Love will always find a way
To make its way back home
Take it to the wild side of town
Sell it to the gypsies
Whisper underneath your breath
Hope that you don't miss me
When the weather's cooler
Take it to the fair
While in the house of mirrors
Leave its reflection there
Even when it's stranded
Left to shiver in the cold
Love in all its wonder
Will make its way back home
Both space and time cannot destroy
us, or force us to shed a tear
against our lives' approaching joy.
Can these struggles dissolve what's dear
to our joined souls and make us coy
about a bliss that's nearly here?
We--survivors!--hope against hope
and love against war and bitter strife;
together, we struggle and cope.
We live and die with so little life
or peace against this world's cold scope
as if on the edge of God's knife!
Would it be easier to die,
to quit--to cease and never give
ourselves the means of knowing why?
Death comes to those who never live
or know, but just watch life passes by;--
it's a peril we must survive!
Form:
The game it starts with the drop of a two
At 6PM sharp with the whole [CENSORED] crew.
The cards will be dealt in a random way,
But yet we all know by the end of the day,
We will all experience the same routine,
Peter shouts [CENSORED]
and Randy drops the queen.
Mike is a good-natured talker and sly.
He tells us of his plans and why,
But at just the right time, Randy queues Tom Waits;
Now Mike loses stride, and he’s in dire straits.
So, luckily this time, fate will intervene,
and Peter won’t shout [CENSORED]
as Randy drops the queen.
Peter's game is calculated and smart.
His intelligence is off the chart,
But corporations fund the other guys’ cards,
As his well-made plan falls into shards,
And now, we are all treated to the usual scene,
and Peter shouts [CENSORED]
as Randy drops the queen.
Dave’s sits quietly hope against hope,
But the fact quite simply is that he’s a dope.
He moans that he will lose yet one more game,
And once again he’ll hang his head in shame.
Yet, he hopes he’ll hear those words, obscene
as Peter shouts [CENSORED]
and Randy drops the queen.
Randy shrewdly plays each and every card.
We who have faced him, are we who are scarred.
He knows exactly what will happen.
Never does his attention slacken,
And then just like a well-oiled machine,
Peter shouts [CENSORED]
as Randy drops the queen.
When I was young with so few cares and little if any responsibilities; when life for me was simple as parents cared and looked out for me;
when playing ball, or shooting marbles, or rolling tires, were my highest priorities; when misbehaving was against the rule, but being good wasn't the easiest thing to be.
When I hoped for equality when no kids my age would have to labor in the hot sun working hard in the fields 10 hours per day beginning at 6 in the morning. And my next best hope was when I hoped that it would rain a lot to keep us kids from working in the fields; when I hoped that it would snow or the roads got icy to keep us out of school. When I hoped that daddy would never catch my brother and me fighting, because both of us would be punished due to the fact that with daddy it never mattered who was bigger or smaller, older or younger, weaker or stronger, right or wrong. When I hoped that time would catch hold of something really fast and make me grown, because although there was no place like home, I wanted to be gone and make a better one.
When all these hopes and wishes kept piling up inside of me; in time, little by little, they started to become reality at the pace of snails. These hopes and dreams and wishes and longings were and are inside of me with more added each day; and I believe that hope is a longing and aspiration born in heaven, not on the earth. Hope is a 'God Thing' carved within us as an anchor to our souls.
I believe that one is lost without hope, because there is no substitute for hope. I believe that hope is plentiful and needs neither measurements nor calculations for its reality. I believe that there is always enough hope to go around so no one needs to be void of it. There's hope for me and for you. There's hope against hope and hope for the hopeless. May we never stop seeking and searching, knocking and praying, believing and hoping.
11132017 PS Contest, Choose Your Topic: Hope, Russel Sivey; I chose the topic of 'Hope'
Him:
I came with trembling hands, afraid to speak,
A life of battles, losses deep.
I’ve lost my friends, my wealth, my name,
Yet still I rise through ash and flame.
Me:
I see the storms you’ve walked alone,
A heavy heart, a breaking tone.
But stranger, trust — you’re not unseen,
There’s purpose carved in what has been.
Him:
I’ve been betrayed by those I loved,
Robbed at gunpoint, stripped of trust.
Two cars, two dreams, a farm, a house,
Depression’s grip, a silent spouse.
Me:
You’ve walked through fire, yet you stand,
With faith still burning in your hand.
Romans four, hope against hope —
That’s not the end, but strength to cope.
Him:
Sometimes I fear to reach, to speak,
To strangers’ inboxes, shy and meek.
But something drew me to your light,
A world of courage in my night.
Me:
And I am honored you came to me,
Your story’s pain, your honesty.
This path you walk may feel so steep,
But seeds you plant, your soul will reap.
Him:
I choose no bitterness, though I bleed,
I cut off harm but still sow seeds.
My heart’s been broken, yet I still love,
A fool? No — a child of God above.
Me:
You’re not a fool, you’re forged, refined,
Your scars are maps, your faith a sign.
Keep walking, stranger, you’re not lost,
God builds new homes from what was cost.
Him:
I feared to die but choose to live,
My breath’s a chance, my gift to give.
Though walking lonely feels like stone,
A shoulder, a word — I’m not alone.
Me:
And here you are, your truth laid bare,
A stranger’s trust, a holy prayer.
You’re on the right path — don’t be afraid,
Your light will shine from what you’ve prayed.
cat and mouse life keeps me busy all day,
work late, earn some money so I can pay!
At work have a difficult boss to please,
when back home with wife, problem doesn’t cease!
weekends home should be for love rest and peace,
But have to do home chores can’t rest with ease!
two teenagers home are such a menace,
their day lost texting or fancy romance!
Friends invite me to a round of beer, golf,
but wife has ears on like a pack of wolf!
I dread weekends her mother comes to stay,
would saved problems, if her husband was gay!
look forward sometimes to game of football,
dog keeps company, my only true pal!!
why give up freedom to end up in mess?
hope against hope but problems won’t regress!
Written 21/03/2021
10 syllables each Iambic pentameter
Janice Canerdy sponsored
Rhyming Couplets contest!
rhymes checked at rhyme zone.com