Long Implored Poems
Long Implored Poems. Below are the most popular long Implored by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Implored poems by poem length and keyword.
I sure would feel ill till the end,
Resigned to it still till the end.
If admit I can’t till the end,
Sorry for sure feel till the end.
They, slumped in too much me and mine
Endure its mien will till the end.
What I feel for and call it love,
I must with it deal till the end.
Pain subsides sooner than we think,
Strange, we dwell on it till the end.
She implored: forgive, forget me,
And still, what a drill till the end!
Hard to keep love and ways of world
Both, on even keel till the end!
_________________________
Ghazal |19.09.2025| feelings, forgive, love, pain, world
~Not Like Me~
When you were first put into my arms,
I begged God, to make you nothing like me
For my sins, ask for no transformation
This is my song, my meditation
Look at my face
Where has it gone,
You no longer desire to be part of my song
Look at my life,
The toll hasn't been paid
I'm the one suffering every day
The vengeance of eternal flames,
sit near the empty heart
Burning my needs to hold you once more,
I need you more than you'll ever know
Now, Look at me, at the age of 73
I have nowhere to go
Everyone I know awaits in a place of gold
Unlike you, you're too busy, proud and bold
------ A different song!!!
I sing a song, that accentuates the mind,
I have no one to blame, I neglected all the signs
Hoping the rain would slowly die off
Today here I lay, wondering where I went wrong
I implored God, to cause you nothing like me
I have a heart that forgives and tries to forget
I kneel, and I give, and I treat others with respect
My compassion, I measured in the poorest way
I judged my life worse than the others did
Why did I ask ---- Not Like Me!
For my sins, ask for no translation
This is my song, my speculation
The dreaded conclusion of this song,
All I can say is, "Be careful what you ask for."
In the end, all I can say, I got what I asked for
Someone, who's Not Like Me......................
By: PD
Years ago in my youthful exuberance,
persuaded by impulsive and sprightly yearning,
I made to her the premature promise,
I could not keep in the long run.
We parted with no apparent rancor,
although the possible pangs of broken heart
I was sure she kept within herself,
I felt a stressful sense of fretting guilt.
Realizing that I had broken the blooming dream,
I implored earnestly the almighty
to graciously condone my hurting action,
I thought was the doing of destiny.
God lit for me the lamp in the gloomy time
to retrieve my conscience lost in the dark.
From the essence of repentance I got solace,
shielded the lamp in the soul from wind of remorse.
________________
January 13, 2023
Contest : Revealing Your Soul And Other Tension
Sponsored by : Sotto Poet
No matter nature’s placement woes
Of ears and lips and eyes and nose
Or beauty’s plan for symmetry
That makes us each a you and me
No matter fingers, hands or feet
Or weight to lose and scales to cheat
Of length and girth for short or tall
Appendages a size too small
The heart of kindness knows no rules
Of gracefulness that’s learned in schools
Instead its beauty rests assured
Its favor need not be implored
For love which guides a gentle soul
That cares and carries love’s patrol
Needs not to worry form’s design
Most beautiful is love divine
He was clamored dead!
Without being stabbed,
Without being poisoned,
Without being sick:
The angels' arch summoned him
To see the Heavens and Hell
And samples of judging the just and the unjust.
He was diabolical in deeds!
Defining himself to be the Sun that shines
The comments proved he deserved such a decampment.
“Sing! the snob who did us turpitude has travelled," they retorted at the scene.
His body was demanded for a quick burial
But a few prayed to wait it till the next sunup.
The eyes of revenge were gravely opened!
Then, at down, in the sixth hour,
The heavenly bodies and hemispheres implored for an amnesty of chance
And Gabriel gave heed to their plea
Charging him to be reputable.
At mercy the masterful soul revisited its flesh
It behoved him to repair the very engine of his life.
There they come,
I see them from my window
Although it's very dark
The streets lights make them glow
I closed and locked each shutter
As it seems like I’m in Limbo
While anxious for the sun to rise,
I feel the panic grow
They're coming here tonight
And fear runs through my bones
Although I've turned off all the lights
They know that we are home
They want and come to feast
To strip us to the bone
And eat our flesh and brains and blood.
So close, I hear their groans
With my children huddled 'round me
As I hold my darling bride
I pray to God for all I'm worth
They cannot get inside
Now I hear them on the front porch
And it, can't be denied
Once they're in the front door
There’ll be no place to hide
But my wife broke free,from me
And headed to the door
In all these years I've never seen
My wife so brave before
I stretched my arm out to her
"Don't open" I implored
Then twenty costumed kids rushed in
Just like the year before
—Before the spirit memorial of a man’s departed wife—
you were the lonely woman who long waited for
the daybreak sun to rise from the other side of the horizon
dark and gray; however, day came much too late, and therefore,
though in tears, you walked away from me with no word left behind
you were the pathetic woman whose wish was to walk
with the light steps, like a shimmering haze wave glows
in sunny and warm spring day, on the path lying
in the colorful flowers; however, through you knew the sun
certainly rises in that very moment, in sorrow, walked away
from me with the hurried steps
for it makes no difference if it is a sun or a moon
and the vow made was nothing but the point in which is to
stay for a little while on the way to Elysium; you harshly cut off
our bondage and left with no word to the last, though you would
have a moment to say a word of farewell, o you the woman of cold,
a stonehearted
the woman who stood in the cold wind
like a withered reed by the marsh and cried
the cry of damned daughter of Demeter was the woman,
whom i cannot trust, the woman of ill-will, because the pledge
of eternal love you made was broken one-sidedly,
you did not turn back even i implored you to go, but you,
in that dark and chilling night, hurried away with mincing steps
They called him dearly, Guru, a creative seer;
He was tall,built well with features sharp,
Grey hair on head, face and even brows too;
With strong and straight a gait did he move;
His sharp and keen eyes did search and warp
Aye ,into the depths of things all over,did peer
His gifted fingers felt beyond the impetus
Of what he saw or heard : a percept unique
That was with ease and spell -bound, fraught
With the sly obvious and the latent unsought
Drives and prompts happy or depressions bleak,
His canvas divined even the wild desert cactus
Casting a blank look across the hills he stood
Watching the cloudy symbols in the sky,distant
That gained into a chaos of beauty and charm;
As he just felt the touch of a little hand warm,
Turned round, startled to find a child the instant
Posing to beseech and get the feel of the good
Forms disappeared shaping the new ones bright
And the heavens seemed to charge afresh, anew:
The glorious, invincible creation aloft :a rainbow,
All at once spilling beams of the hue,chroma row
With both the hands pulling the aged hands skew
The child implored with a feeling of blended right
'Paint for me that happiness, now if you could '
Delighted,thence the achiever to his atelier led
Him and offered many and various lot to choose
From the flora,fauna with scenes in motley hues,
The pets and beasts seen or unknown, instead;
'Nay. I just want the one over there, if you could'
"Look here, Sir: I want just that one for sure"
The little finger pointed to the far away sunset,
And the bright and beautiful rainbow distinct..
Nothing looked so real, so lovely and succinct;
"Oh dear! God is a painter greater than all yet "
"Master Depictor, of everything serene and pure!"
When Grandpa died and his clock still ticked,
he fell from a ladder by a tree -
nor could that clock on the wall predict
when I died at age twenty-three.
A traveling artist, who, out of luck,
implored gramps (...how'd he know his name?)
My grandpa was kind. A deal was struck.
Soon his picture was in a frame.
The parlor portrait's eyes would follow
me, conveying every feeling.
Kindness and cheer, I could swallow,
but remonstration sent me reeling.
A frisbee stuck in a tree, so high,
Grandpa said he'd retrieve it for me.
Just hold the ladder, please, small fry?
and that's all that he asked of me.
Nobody knows that story but me.
I sway gently as the wind does blow,
from a branch on that sycamore tree,
but the eyes on the portrait know.
Once Man,
Nature’s forgiveness implored,
For
Crimes humanity has, against the environment
Committed
And
Sincerely, his serious concern expressed for the
Peril, the whole planet was in, because of
Man’s doing
Nature, attentively, listened to every word, Man,
Wished so much to say,
Then, turning towards him, with great emphasis
Declared:
“Worry not about me, my very dear child
For
Ample time to recover I would have, soon after
Your upcoming disappearance
Which
For long now, you, so thoughtlessly, have yourself
arranged!”
© Demetrios Trifiatis
09 MARCH 2015