Long Idol Poems
Long Idol Poems. Below are the most popular long Idol by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Idol poems by poem length and keyword.
King Nebuchadnezzar ordered people to worship a statue that was ninety feet high.
But when three good men refused to worship it, the king condemned them to die.
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refused to worship an idol even though the punishment was stern.
The king had them thrown into a furnace but Jehovah God sent an angel and they didn't burn.
Those three men said that they would only worship The Lord.
And being protected from a fiery death was their reward.
Nebuchadnezzar was amazed when they weren't consumed by the fire.
Those three good men survived a fate that would have usually been dire.
Jehovah proved himself to be the true God who has might.
He protected his three loyal servants for doing what was right.
74 years now my father is
In leisure time, always praying and staying at home
Pleasing conversation with the life partner
Whose age is also 64
The ebb of life, connection to the supreme being in mind
Yesterday was Vijaya Dashami of the Hindu community,
The last praising carols around with musical hymns
Huge organized for immersion of the Durga Idol
No, at this age, my father has just a retired mind
Retirement arms, legs, body
Sitting on the sofa
Watching TV after evening prayers
He was traveling from this channel to that channel
calling my mother, He was showing the idol relinquishment
And he said- has it any meaning
Whom I worshiped-adored, I have abandoned Her again!
Suddenly the parents stopped talking, the TV turned off at 6.30 pm
The niece came and told - the grandfather had said that the picture tube was damaged,
I will not be able to watch the IPL game at night!
Moments without TV it seems to be very annoying
The world seems to be dead
There is no noise anywhere
The drama of life seems to have stopped along with the dramas of the TV serial
The cheeriness of the cheers girls also seemed to take away that picture tube
It is unknown that from when the virtual colorful world became the friend of this family
But there is no doubt that last night's moments without TV were a sad life of prison cell
27.10.2020 Chattogram
Pissed off and tired, I’m not paid enough
for twenty hour days and all of this stuff.
The phone starts at seven when things have gone wrong
at three in the morning still singing their song.
Planning, correcting, resolving all things
that being in charge of our engineers brings.
Not I don’t like it, there’s no doubt I do,
it’s just I get tired when working right through.
I’ve made a few changes to soften the load
of the people whose workload I keep in my fold.
It’s early days yet and I hope I can see
the way to make changes that benefit me.
My boss is my conscience, my vision my drive,
the way I move forward, the reason I strive
is to find better ways within our Company
to help people have fun when they’re working for me.
Now money’s the God that rules Company law,
with profit the deity held up in awe.
I have to bow down to their idol I know
but there’s differing ways our devotion to show.
You can sacrifice workers, then sell your own soul
to the devil who claims all of the gold
or promise him fortunes with far more to gain
if we help all the staff to live absent from pain.
Convincing directors that following me
will help feed their need for more money to see
is an art I have mastered with skill in my years
while helping employees shed some of their fears.
Although I’m successful in feeding their greed,
the thing I am glad of is that I succeed
in making folks lives a bit better than when
they were virtual slaves to their master's pure whim.
But alas I have not reached the point where I may
reduce all the hours that I work every day.
Now this I must make my own personal goal
so I too can have fun and some time for my soul.
Ivor G Davies
Buried beneath blood-shot baby doll eyes
where drowns dark truths dwelling empty despair,
finds five fraught faces from false idol lies
clinging cold-coffins caused by cruel affair;
Saddled by sorrow seen in mother’s stare,
washed while awaiting where water is filled
pouring in porcelain planned to be killed;
Languishing lost lacking warmth much less love,
ended in eerily foul episodes,
angrier now than Almighty above
mumbling murmurs in murderous modes;
Ripe for wrongs reversed through revengeful roads,
tantalized terrors too tempted to taste
blood brought by bathwater boiling in baste;
Chastised and chided, these children chilling
journey for justice with jealous intent,
mystically moving, maddened minds milling,
howling horrific while haunting content;
For sins suffered by souls salvation bent,
never they rest now, now nestled in night,
purposed, their plight, seeks parents punished right;
Aiming as arrows at any ones found,
dripping disgust at desolate devils,
grumble gigantic than gnash to the ground
lustfully lashing in lunatic levels;
As rancid bells heard, rusted rung rebels,
thoroughly thrashing throats within their reach,
fifty fingers, if figured, ten for each.
And why wouldn’t what withered weary do,
dragged desperate to death by der’lict brain,
taught terrible things when tongues tied untrue
incited mother inside turned insane?
Silence should swallow who speaks sour on slain,
judgments be gentle, gestate not Hell’s gates,
for these are the children of Andrea Yates.
9/16/2016
Submitted For: Scare Me Good Poetry Contest
You, the great blasphemer, did snort
“I will be Christ. I will be the Most High
Above the fifty stars and courts
Above every deity of the sky”
Worshiping the idol of forts
With gold and silver, but with no ally
O orange morning star… O Don
You will be brought down alive
By Life, the daughter of Wisdom
To where no rose can grow and strive
With no oak tree to rest upon
With no eagle to arrive
Trampling you underfoot
Generations will think
“Is this that man who put
The whole earth on the brink
Turned his kingdom to soot
Killed liberty in a blink”
(Influenced by Isaiah 14:12-17)
79.
Wrong Turn
On the time I left the straight path
Unfathomed anxiety teemed my heart
Ever doubted the resolve of my brain
If it would delight or harness some pain
The only sure thing was that
I only earned another's wrath
When from discontent
Formed I blemish intent
I became a speck
On the eyes of the meek
Abnormal fantasy
Drained all sanity
Filled with derision
To a righteous person
Worshipped childhood idol
Whom I thought would heed my call
Thought I'd found a savior
Who would do me a favor
Upon turning away
From his opponent's way
Onwards orange avenue
Belching fumes towards yellow hue
Traffic disturbed
Many eyes to me turned
On wrong turn entrapped
By stupid mishap
Was towed from the highway
After causing disarray
In proper seclusion
The transgressor was thrown
Behind the shadows anguishing
No orange attending
In the end it was yellow
Who ransomed ex-fellow.
-11/20/2011
(Dumarao)
*Yellow Poems Collection
When I don't think about love, silent as lambs,
women come flocking to me; many times
they gather to chat in a corner
and whisper with fingers pointing,
" What a charmer! What a lover! "
I am truly psychic and intuitive,
and before they start talking,
I can read their silly minds and burst into laugh;
and all the illusive ones may not exercise caution...
but believe me, none of this means provocation!
Oh, women...more stunning than the summer' stars,
only one of you I can choose, and that one
will be the one who has kept the promise of a secret;
and this special dance, so imminent, she really deserves!
Oh, women...with anxious eyes so provocative,
I can't share any of these moments, and become
that sex idol that's drawing all the focus and attention;
go after other guys who are more handsome, talkative and smart!
I 'm the quite guy who likes staying home with his gal,
and spend an evening by candle light... away from the noise and gossip!
I like to be the center of attention when I walk
into a room full of attractive and elegant gals,
and kissing my favorite lady can spark some commotion!
I hate to push some aside, but my choice is final;
and will somebody turn pale with jealousy, let her find an alternative!
Everyone may get the wrong idea when a guy is gallant and bright,
but, all in all, do they think that a perfect match is a God-given right?
Romance loses its fascination when roses don't arrive;
and what's is the real reason behind it, if not a loss of interest?
Can romance ever last without the affections that love imparts ?
" What a charmer! What a lover! " is all I hear; irresistible women,
I appreciate your compliments and excitement...tone down
your uncontrollable emotions, don't fill
this room with words that gigolos love to hear!
I am a faithful Romeo: sentimental, shy, lovable and very sincere,
but another beauty cannot deceive me;
have you noticed how many smiles are flashed at me?
I can only accept the simplest and truest one!
Words...like perfection and glamour aren't in my dictionary,
simplicity and faithfulness are the most desirous and impeccabile!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
In the year 1989,
A long time ago!
I heard Sachin smash Qadir,
On the radio!
Test Cricket,
Was the name of the game!
I knew instantly,
Cricket would never be the same!
In complete humility,
He graced the field!
His sound batting prowess,
Made every bowler yield!
He conquered every record,
He’s the only King!
Not just a cricketer,
But a lovely human being!
He is the Master,
Who blasted away to fame!
Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar,
Is his famous name!
Today I pray,
That he wins me the Cup!
India wants to see my Idol,
Lift the 2011 World Cup!
Dedicated to: SACHIN RAMESH TENDULKAR....My Icon, my idol, who inspires awe
worldwide, and patriotism in countless number of Indians! May my Country be blessed
enough to see him lift the 2011 Cricket World Cup...:-)
My journey is not long but my dream is
I search for the fastest way to reach my destination
But time tells me, “Take one step at a time”
I heed this advice
With patience as food of choice
Trust my drink to quench my thirst
I take a deep breath and struggle to look ahead
All I see is the same old things my eyes are used to seeing
Color, trees and the African savanna surrounds my day thinking
Social media confuses me with false testimonies from life failures
They think they made by their own knowledge yet it’s God’s intervention
They praise their wealth in place of God
They worship money instead the one who deserves it and lives forever
My God stand and see my evil heart even as I write his poem
It’s not perfect but at least it has little faith in you
Money I asked in a dream, you did provide me with it
Imperial status I saw my phone calling me to it
When will that happen my God?
I write this as I am sited in this barbarian chair
Idol worship is well known in this country
Yet for the sake of the few believers; you have spared us
Joy and peace through faith,
Trust and love be mine from God
Through forgiveness of my sins
Chuimunga the poet
A gentle hush fell over the pond
The crickets ceased their evening song
Many jewel-toned feathers circled and flew
And perched as tonight's "Idol" audience grew
Poor little bird looks out from his tree top place
His voice must enthrall them in the "Idol" race!!
He must choose the right song, and be a hit,
Just one more chance is all he gets!
Oh My! He sees Jennifer Lovebird, soft feathered, and fair
And Steven Tucan, in the judging chair!!
Ol’ Randy Jaybird with his ‘Hot Dog’ hoots!
Oh dear, this poor little songbird, is shaking in his boots!
With stage fright, he fears his chance is bleak
He opens up his tiny beak
With not even one tender note, so sweet
All he can muster, is one awful squeak!!
Quickly, Ryan Redbrest flaps his wings....hops to the branch
And clamps him shut, without a glance!
Poor little bird,....! He's lost his chance!
To sing among the tallest trees,
To win the prize, with songs to please...
Or be a part of history! :(
So off he flies, into the breeze....!
-------------------------------------------------------------------
For Francine Roberts Contest "Enough!"