Long Intervened Poems
Long Intervened Poems. Below are the most popular long Intervened by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intervened poems by poem length and keyword.
Intrusive thoughts just invaded my mind…
Yielded, I welcomed them, and so they came
They soon turned as a scene I must behold
Making meditation* vibrantly real.
Oh, these intrusive thoughts have gripped my heart
Letting me ponder on my prayer life...
First, I faced Miss Skeptic with her arrogant stare
Scorning, she yelled at me: “You’re just wasting time!”
Minutes later, Mr. Pretense questioned my motive
“Are you really sure that you’re communing with God?”
Without reluctance, Mrs. Rumor intervened…
“Oh, we gain data from people’s varied petitions.”
Then the happy-go-lucky lad joined me gaily
Saying, “I can’t come, but I’ll be there in spirit.”
Off he drifted fast, outrunning the busy lass
Who handed me her litany list of requests.
Catching my attention afterwards was Sir Doubt
With his countless “Do you truly believe…?” queries
Behind him was Lady Anxious, full of panic
Lamenting while uttering, “So guilty am I.”
These cogitations indeed woke me up
For neglecting supplication-delight
God did teach my heart blest wondrous lesson…
Seeking Him humbly with faith pleases Him.
Thankful to the Lord for intrusive thoughts
I praise Him for rebuking me rightly
Now, His invitation for communion
Is a vibrant pleasure to my spirit.
*Psalm 19:14 Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.
June 11, 2025
2nd place, "Pick-A-Title, Vol 52" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 6/14/2025
Too High A Price
"A pleasured life, too short a measure, a treasure that's too high a price..."
A photograph in blues unveils
a vacuous 2009 look of the devout
and one who intervened with her faith asked,
"Was I wrong?, she whispered, "You were my gift."
too high a price...
and to that, her smile draped in azure, gleamed for a few days more,
Pastor, composer, musician, singer--parts to a prefaced Word
spills to a floor, for a church that wants more
too high a price...
not to share with her extended family and her own,
a church clears all into their hearts and enriching lives
all shined in the intricacies of sapphire,
Her life well worth all of Earth's treasures,
yet to garner a touch, a smile,
rend mixed feelings of pain and joy,
of her mortal soul that turned a memorable blue
too high a price...
for me to bear, being on my own.
***In her final years, she forgot who I was, in her finals days, she remembers me, in her finals hours, she finds her peace, as I began my journey to find mines...
2019 September 11
*GRAND Prize*
THE CONTEST OF ALL CONTEST
~~William Kekaula
My brain is on holiday
Sure wish it would alert me
I'm cruising along having a ball
Then WHAM!!!
“Sorry, I'm on holiday”
Doesn't happen often to me
But when it does, I freak out
What if in my remaining years
I never write another poem
Yikes! What a calamity that would be
Still got lots to write about
I think I have... I know I have... I'm sure I have
But what happened???
Something is short circuiting my thought box
Write the first line, then scrap it
Write the first line, then scrap it
Write the first line, then scrap it
Help!!! Someone please tell me what to do
Have the “thought police” intervened
Have I exceeded my yearly word count already
Please oh great overseer of verboseness
If I have exceeded my limit
Can I buy extra words for the year
I'll pay big dollars...
Through the streets i followed
Not believing my eyes
Three carrying crosses
Only two of them cried
We reached a place
Called the hill of the skull
Golgotha " Calvariae Locus "
Calvary hill
Three holes in the soil
Were awaiting their fate
One for above
And two for hells gate
Bloodied and nailed
Impaled on natures wood
To quiet a faith
This is all they could
Their efforts were in vain
As higher powers intervened
When i looked through my eyes
On that Calvary hill scene
What did the Romans fear
From the one who wore the thorns
He who the people followed
For in the morning will be reborn
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-6.php
He died for you and me
His death, a victorious testimony
It is finished. It is finished
Jesus gave His life
It is finished. It is finished
The ultimate sacrifice
Jesus paid It All
He had the receipts
Jesus paid it all
No more spirit of defeat
It is finished. It is finished
Jesus gave His life
It is finished. It is finished
The ultimate sacrifice
It was a proclamation
we've been redeemed
prophecy fulfilled
God intervened
the battle was won
the sentence was served
His mission completed
the resurrection most deserved
It is finished. It is finished
Jesus gave His life
It is finished. It is finished
The ultimate sacrifice
No more suffering
No more sin
His death for us
A triumphant win
Jesus paid It All
He had the receipts
Jesus paid it all
No more spirit of defeat
It is finished. It is finished
Jesus gave His life
It is finished. It is finished
The ultimate sacrifice
I need a glass of hard drink to brush the teeth,
A jug of wine to complement a wheat bread,
An alcohol to bath all day long,.....
I'm a vagrant...in my mansion street,
No wife to cook for me,sons and daughters to make me a father cared,
Wardrobe full of dresses,but one has become as tempered silicon to my wrong,
Having an agreement with the bathhouse,"will be here when I'm hungry for its need",
I know I walk straight in focus,
but the picturing of the society throw wars,
I walk on snow with barefoot,
A skeleton in the cupboard,
Family can't handle if mocked,
Crowned best in breaking bonds of secrets,
Situations undercover......I just can't hold unto,
World prospective figure,...gone worst,
Can be a spell,influence or addiction,..will drink till I'm filled,
Freaky wild tongue,counterparts waits for my presence at the wine bar,
Arrayed in the cloth of a whale,
Killing me slow pal,
An elephant impaled,
Advice ain't gonna metamorphose me,....really need to be intervened for,
Let there be a transformation by his mind renewal,
That's what the Lord assure,
Will destroy the container for a mourn,
Change my name,...I'm a new born!
My one true love with eyes of sparkling blue
Our hearts as one it was our destiny
Heaven sent you for me and me for you
It would not last but end in tragedy.
War intervened I’d have to go away
To the Crimea with the light brigade
My true love I thought of every day
Our lives on hold along with plans we’d made.
The Captain said “suppress your greatest fears
Ride close ranks and do not come asunder”
The noise of hooves were ringing in my ears
Sounds they made were like a raging thunder.
A lance pierced me and off my horse I fell
Then death came down, my life I bid farewell.
Written on 7th February 2019.
My brain is on holiday
Sure wish it would alert me
I'm cruising along having a ball
Then WHAM!!!
“Sorry, I'm on holiday”
Doesn't happen often to me
But when it does, I freak out
What if in my remaining years
I never write another poem
Yikes! What a calamity that would be
Still got lots to write about
I think I have... I know I have... I'm sure I have
But what happened???
Something is short circuiting my thought box
Write the first line, then scrap it
Write the first line, then scrap it
Write the first line, then scrap it
Help!!! Someone please tell me what to do
Have the “thought police” intervened
Have I exceeded yearly the word count already
It's only April!
Please oh great overseer of verboseness
If I have exceeded my limited
Can I buy extra words for the year
I'll pay big dollars...
© Jack Ellison 2014
The year was sixteen-sixty-four
A comet crossed the sky,
And Londoners looked on in fear
Convinced the end was nigh.
The streets which once were paved with gold
Were now awash with waste.
A swarm of flies and scourge of rats
Foretold the death they faced.
And so it was that London town
Was struck down by the plague,
And corpse on corpse, wife, husband,child,
Were taken to their grave.
Deep in the dales of Derbyshire
A peaceful village lay,
Until a bale of cloth arrived
That inauspicious day.
A bale of flea-infested cloth
Hung by the hearth to dry,
Which stirred the soporific fleas
And roused the plague thereby.
The tailor's poor assistant died
A death of searing pain,
And pestilence intensified
Its unrelenting reign.
As many planned to leave their homes
The vicar intervened
Declaring that instead of flight
They should be quarantined.
'Dear flock of Eyam, sacrifice
Not self must be our plan,
For once enclosed we'll suffer but
Set free our fellow man.'
Within the space of just one month
So many perished there.
The smell of sadness and of death
Ingrained the putrid air.
The years have passed,the plague long gone
But graves still tell the tale
Of how their sacrifice and strength
Meant others could prevail.
13.02.20
Let The Pens Flow - Narrative Poetry Contest : sponsored by Jenish Somadas
N/A
A Historic Event Poetry Contest - William Kekaula
NOTE:
On 1 November 1666 farm worker Abraham Morten gasped his final breath - the last of 260 people to die from bubonic plague in the remote Derbyshire village of Eyam. Their fate had been sealed four months earlier when, after the onset of the plague from flea-infested cloth from London, the entire village made the remarkable decision to quarantine itself in an heroic attempt to halt the spread of the Great Plague.
Hidden in the dreams
Seen when having closed eyes
Opening to existence
Where dreams don't come alive
Where to go
To attain my destiny
What route to follow
That won't betray me
Unsure of moving forward
While running from the past
Finding solutions to mystifications
While seeking the right path
Goals yet to accomplish
Which have been intervened
Running from difficulties
Knowing it must be faced to proceed
Curiosity within for too long
Desire to know
What is to be expected
What will this life show
Time passing rapidly
Progress slowly being made
Will time give an opportunity
For the success expected one day
Desperation at times torture
Causing distractions in my focus
Passion ignored in the outcome
Careless in decisions chosen
Then realizing whats to regret
Strife to make it right
Pursue focus with no distraction
Preparing for whats in sight
Is there acceptance in my growth
Is there acceptance of whats of my life
Questions taken place within
With answers left to find
Imagining whats deserved
Fantasizing in endless smiles
Daydreaming of fulfillment
Are the only inspirations worthwhile
Patient for the day to arrive
To introduce my being to who i am
Resulting in relief
Of the obstacles strong enough to withstand