Long Inheritance Poems

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


Premium Member Bloodlines


Bloodlines 

Family lineages relatives we call Elders, Uncles, Aunts, 
Cousins,  Brothers, Sisters. Bloodlines 

Inherited unspoken patterns of generational dysfunction. 

Did you Inherited any anxieties,  gossiping,  vexation?

Judgements creating cycles that's hard to escape from.

Transcends from kin to kin, a proportion of ancestors 
that are undisclosed prior to the present time.

Moreover the bloodlines inheritance lives within me.
I am the First born combined of two different family members. 

Comparable to roots of the branches from a tree when
I fall, I'm never down for long.

I originated from strong men and women from eras of
bloodlines cycles.


Premium Member God's Mercy At Work

God’s mercy* brought to us our spiritual freedom
Acquitting us by His sacrificial ransom
Against our iniquities’ entangling stardom
Ushering us to His everlasting kingdom.

With God’s mercy is sure heavenly fulfillment!
Satisfying us with His blessed contentment
Subduing earthliness’ vanity-enrichment.
Granting inheritance of priceless settlement.

God’s mercy is at work in our joyful worship
As the Father meets us within His fellowship
When we draw nigh to Him in prayer-partnership
Being invited to His throne-of-grace friendship.

Along God’s mercy is His wondrous victory
Honouring Him while exalting His name’s glory
Prevailing over sins’ afflicting misery
Triumphant in declaring Gospel’s love story.

*Psalm 86:15 But thou, O Lord, art a God full of compassion, and gracious, longsuffering, and plenteous in mercy and truth.

June 1, 2019

Time's Relentless Hands

Time's relentless hands cast their shadows
On a middle-aged woman in a lonely corner of her room
She drapes her shawl around her shoulders,
And there she sits covered in sheets of memories 
wherein she is held captive by the betrayal
of a lover's deceit.

Time’s relentless hands murdered her dreams
Her heart once whole, now shattered- incomplete.
A lover's promises, like whispers in the wind,
Now ashes to ashes and dust to dust, 
dissipating with every gust.
Abandoned, she stands, a slanting, silent cry,
As her dreams unravel and hopes slowly die.

Her children once stars in her twilight sky,
Time’s relentless hands made them
Now gaze with greed in each calculating eye.
Inheritance is their focus, devoid of love's embrace,
Leaving her silent and morose in heart’s wasteland.
She wonders aloud to the universe above,
Why must her suffering prolong in time’s relentless glove?
In echoes of silence, the answers blurred,
Yet, in her brokenness, she seeks the unheard.

In time’s relentless hands, her face is worn and gaunt,
Lines etched with tales of love's paradigm.
A weary soul, searching for solace's shore,
In the wreckage of dreams, she craves for something more.
Why does pain persist, a cruel demand?
In the quiet of night, she pleads for release,
A burdened heart seeking moments of peace.

But midst the ruins of time’s relentless hands, 
resilience sparks and a phoenix rises from the desolate dark.
In the mosaic of scars, she finds her grace,
Each fracture is a story etched on her face.
The universe may be silent, yet she persists,
A survivor transcending the darkest twists.

Out of the ashes, a phoenix soars,
And healing whispers, "You're worth so much more."
In time’s relentless hands, 
Amid the pain, she'll find her song,
For the middle-aged woman is resilient and strong.

Freely Given

to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves.
Ephesians 1:6 NIV

To understand a free cup of coffee taste better
How much more is a freely given spirit
Words can not fathom it's depth
In seeking blessings from God
Shall one seek this freely given spirit
God made this the true treasure
Storing up within one 
Which shall not return to dust
One can not put a price on it 
For it comes as the wind 
The homeless can receive true wealth
A new bounce in their step
And great joy and peace to be in God's presence 
New vision of God's creation seen in beauty
In an instant of  divine intervention
We have been given access through Christ
To cast out spirit of this world foolishness
That we might receive the inheritance
Given freely from the death of Jesus 
How majestic is God's ways
To make certain this is freely given

What we have received is not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may understand what God has freely given us.
1 Corinthians 2:12 NIV

Then Peter and John placed their hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit. When Simon saw that the Spirit was given at the laying on of the apostles’ hands, he offered them money and said, “Give me also this ability so that everyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit.” Peter answered: “May your money perish with you, because you thought you could buy the gift of God with money! You have no part or share in this ministry, because your heart is not right before God. Repent of this wickedness and pray to the Lord in the hope that he may forgive you for having such a thought in your heart. For I see that you are full of bitterness and captive to sin.”
Acts 8:17?-?23 NIV

bullies are cowards

they puff their chests
like broken pigeons on a wire,
all noise and feathers,
no flight.

they travel in packs
because alone
they’d fold like wet paper
in the rain.

you see them in schoolyards,
on job sites,
behind keyboards,
in bars at 2 a.m.
nursing cheap beer
and expensive rage.

they don’t want a fight —
they want a victim.
they want someone who will lower their eyes
and say nothing
and carry the bruise home like a secret.

but if you bow to them
you become what they are:
another small god
standing on smaller backs.

stand up
even if your knees shake.
especially if your knees shake.

bullies are the fingerprints of bad parents,
the echo of a slap,
the inheritance of cruelty.
they learned early
that fear buys obedience
and lies buy power.

they build their kingdoms
out of rumors and fists,
out of broken confidence
and stolen lunch money.

narcissists with a taste for blood,
pathological liars
who believe their own stories
because truth never let them win.

no, they aren’t strong.
they are starving for attention,
desperate for control,
terrified of being seen for what they are.

and when you finally stand your ground,
look them in the eye,
say no —

you’ll watch them shrink.

because every bully
is just a coward
waiting to be exposed.


Premium Member The Realigned Effects Of Evil: Part 2

An excerpt from my new short story:

After Adolf received Alois' final inheritance in 1913, he moved to Munich, Germany. During his Vienna years living in squalor, Adolf was keenly interested in the makeup of Vienna's multicultural society. Those living in the upper class were a mixture of cultures. Mostly made up of Jews. However, at that time, negativity stemmed from all the races. During his last years in Vienna, now as a young adult, the dark lord remained diligent. Adolf had a circle of friends who were Anti- Semitics.

National Socialist German Workers Party, better known as the Nazi Party. The dark lord's student has advanced himself towards a teacher's status. He is still on the ropes but is ripening from green. He has exceptionally distinguished himself as a notoriety. His prospectus holds assurances. Hope builds a future as evil takes the lead and lays down the foundation.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Blaming Mom and Dad

It is unfathomable to me how people can get hooked on video games
until it happens to me, and of course, it does as I have an
obsessive compulsive side thanks to my dad.

It is unconscionable to me that anyone can live like a hoarder until
I start living like one, thanks to my dad being a packrat, and teaching
me the thrill of it.

It is super weird to me that my mother, who loves to clean and cook and
keep things tidy and pay on time, and not shop had almost no influence 
over me in any way apparently.

Maybe it is because I had my own ways, and her ways seemed strange
and stark and boring?

Yes, that must be it.

Daddy was a salesman, gone a lot.
When he came home, it was Christmas.
Every time.
Form: Persona

Napoleon's Europe

Europe my realm and my prized possession
I instill in thee our novel ideals,
for your feudal laws our conquest repeals.
Our boisterous wind of emancipation
liberates Spain from draconian inquisition.
Of the proud Brits' stupendous earning power, 
an Egyptian campaign would rest the case.
I have made subservient Austria to face
defeat and lasting capitulation.
By sheer divine providence I soar
above my Italian inheritance
bequeathed by Papal authority
and placed in custody of my viceroy.
By my might, I brought to subjugation, 
the recalcitrant fiefdom of Russia,
and the resilient kingdom of Prussia.
Not even Portugal dared resistance,
with her weak army debased like a toy.
But in sudden flight and rare sobriety,
her sovereign lord bowed to abdication.
Form:

The Intrinsic hertitage value of Faith

Within the dust of bones and temple stones,
A whisper walks—more felt than clearly shown.
Not blood nor birth, nor lineage laced with gold,
But trembling trust the ancient prophets hold.

What weight has faith, that it should stretch through time,
And echo in the silent church-bell’s chime?
What proof resides in relics made of air,
But that the unseen realm is always there?

Not carved in granite, nor in laws decreed,
It pulses where the doubting heart still bleeds.
A feather's fall, a burning bush alight,
Both artifacts and oracles of might.

O Reason, halt! You cannot net the skies,
Nor chart the tears that saints and martyrs cry.
Their blood writes scrolls no scholar dares erase,
Yet wisdom bows before a child’s grace.

Faith is the coin of realms beyond decay—
A timeless barter in a time-bound play.
Inheritance not claimed by flesh or name,
But by the soul that steps into the flame.

Oft questioned, tested, ridiculed, denied,
It sleeps in caves where ancient truths abide.
Yet in the meek, it moves with royal breath,
And grants the pauper victory over death.

So let no tongue deride this ghostly trust,
This jeweled ash that rises from the dust.
For faith, though frail in eye or scholar’s pen,
Is heritage the stars still reckon in.

Premium Member Special Revelation Deuteronomy Detailed Pt3

our coming inheritance
       lest
          we forget
salvation            
        all of God
we recollect 
marvel
     in wonder love&praise
atonement 
             covered
by
transforming grace&
                             blessing
thought
emotion
mind
will&imagination
to
climax&conclude
our
ever present reality
the
promised new life
of
maturity progess&tenure
the very
            fabric
               to loyally obey
the call
       of divine revelation

an unchangeable teaching
statutes of divine origin
rules for every day living

to keep us clean&pure
in the chosen
                  place
of
fundamental truth

a treasured possession
in His
        open hand
our open 
           heart
ordained in His name
a
once-for-all
                   redemption
a Holy Spirit
empowered
                    provision
safety
'til our homecoming
to that great
              gathering
                     to come
Form: Ekphrasis

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