Long Invoked Poems
Long Invoked Poems. Below are the most popular long Invoked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Invoked poems by poem length and keyword.
Isaac indeed the promised seed
to Abraham and Sarah was given
he the son so long they waited
fulfillment God spoke from heaven
Then Abraham obeyed God at Moriah
there he took Isaac as the sacrifice
ready with knife in hand to plunder
the angel spoke stop before he dies
No word spoke from father to son
all the way there and all way back
what damaging effect on young Isaac
through his life this caused such lack
On return found his mother died
what devastation on this young soul
his own sons also effected so much
Isaac didn't teach God as his role
The results being Esau rejected God
Jacob left home having not understood
the God that fulfilled the divine promise
later the consequences proved God's good
So then Isaac the silent saint
a life full of promise and despair
never achieved what might have been
learn lesson well make sure God to share
('By faith Isaac invoked future blessings on Jacob and Esau.' Hebrews 11: 20 (ESV)
'He said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” Genesis 22: 2 (ESV)
'And Isaac breathed his last, and he died and was gathered to his people, old and full of days. And his sons Esau and Jacob buried him.' Genesis 35: 29 )(ESV)
On earth man stands against man,
so performing a soul scan,
we heard a voice from within,
of fall from grace due to sin.
Behaviour wayward and coarse,
employing use of brute force,
stems from ignorance of mind,
instincts savage, soul’s eye blind.
The voice went on to assure
that for our ills, love’s the cure
and then granted us a boon
to be invoked at full moon.
Granted one wish, what we asked
that within feeble form casked,
may all shift from head to heart,
adding therein love to cart.
That’s two wishes, the voice said,
yet we’re all free, by love led
but man’s succumbs to ego,
which he’s now loathe to let go.
To dance with love cheek to cheek,
we must plug energy leak
but this choice is up to us,
joyous aboard God’s bliss bus.
The wish we made, though granted,
failed since man’s stance is slanted,
so we must choose as our muse,
love and light, without excuse.
I had seen lots of babies.
Had taken care of plenty.
But it was no rehearsal for having my own.
Nothing prepares you for your own baby.
No one can tell you how it feels, because you have to be shown.
These protective, loving feelings have never been felt by you before,
And you will never feel them again because each baby is different.
One baby wants you to eat only meat.
Another gets sick if you even smell bacon.
Some babies are pure dairy lovers. Other abhor milk.
Yes, babies are opinionated and stubborn from inception.
The instant feelings of love and reverence
That come along with each baby take care of any resentment you might have about
Them imposing their will and opinions on your will and opinions.
When that darling angel was put into my arms and l looked into her trusting eyes,
I instantly forgot all of the things that preceded her arrival.
The pure goodness I saw staring back at me eliminated everything
But her essence and her godliness. You could tell she had arrived two seconds
After being kissed by the angels. The pure joy and humbleness invoked in the realization
That I was her mother, and she was my child eliminated all other knowledge or awareness.
There is such a godliness and pure joy in becoming a mother, it cannot be explained.
It must be lived.
Written July 9th, 2018 for Joys of Motherhood Contest
Sponsored by Olive Eloisa Guillermo-Fraser
Neither encumbered with
material trappings, nor money,
(neither of which I miss)
mine existence approxi-
moxy mates (to me),
the state of psychic,
intrinsic, and bucolic bliss
though far removed
from civilization distant
as thee (myopic) eye can see,
a benevolent, redolent,
and verdant pristine premise
bespoken, expressed, and invoked
to cosmic consciousness, especially
threats (to life and limb
courtesy *****sapiens),
isolated wilderness
absent villagers tsuris,
this monk thank
fully doth dismiss
homestead of unspoiled habitats
though contact with eldest,
and youngest sis
plus deux darling daughters,
the only people, whose absence
accompanies me to wince
with gentle hug, and air kiss
communing with nature
faintly conjures Swiss
Family Robinson
similarities, though this
subarctic Siberian wilderness
connotes more drastic
(ideal to me) solitude perfect
remote abode tubby remiss,
cuz this loner loathes
to impress others,
who don, and
trumpet an (all self)
important air of priss
see ness, no thank dear reader,
I revel as a misanthrope
glad to isolate myself
breathe deep sigh relief asper,
not being party to hiss
see fit, nor participate in
superficial rituals like...Christmas.
Instrumental verse bass guitar:
Praise Him up praise Him up praise Him up
I will praise Him up I will praise Him up
Praise Him up praise Him up praise Him up I will praise Him up
Now what am I thankful for
Manny things that you have ignored
Well I'm here now to tell you I'm on board
Invoked in positivity
Free to worship at Liberty
Oh! I can't ignore Him I must sip from His cup
I will I will praise Him up
I am grateful for everything and for all He's done
And when I'm on the run I'll stand still
And lean on Him
He's real and I can feel in Him I trust
Praise Him up praise Him up praise Him up
I will praise Him up, I will praise Him up, in the morning
I will praise Him up I will praise Him up,
When I'm winning and if I'm blue or if I'm losing
I will praise Him up for all He's done for me
He has forgiven me I will trust in Him
He's giving me joy peace and love please promise me heaven up above
And I'm so grateful that I pray them up
I will praise Him up praise and up I will praise Him up
Praise Him up
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
Arranged music by James Edward Lee Sr
(Seeing an old man walking out of a marriage registrar’s office with a young girl, two women talking…)
Retaining charm till old is art
More than the matter ‘tis of heart,
Look, unstirred, undeterred,
Caught he has a young bird—
The daughter of his old sweetheart,
Now hurt as if by Cupid’s dart!
And old habit as well
(An old man, a retired teacher, and his two sons invoke spirit to write on Ouija board, which makes a spelling mistake, and the old teacher would not allow it to go farther, quoting, a mnemonic device to remember spellings of words with ei or ie. )
Invoked, the ghost when came to be,
The planchette moved on its will free,
The old man still shouted:
Ye must recall, blockhead,
This: I ere E, save after C,
Look, there’s no C in grieve, it’s G.
________________________________
Tongue-in-cheek |07.07.2023| humour/rhyme
Skin broken cannot be repaired
Healing is possible but trauma stays their
Invisible to those with a privileged eye
Visible to those who still ache and cry
Skin will cover what the heart won't show
A pain felt by those who know
What it was like to be named ghetto
Time can heal but what if it don't
When the glue that holds isn't strong enough
Not through strength
But being constantly poked
By those who want the cracks to be loathed
Those who want the mirror of perfection to be uncloaked
To be released from insecurity invoked
So they aren't the only ones who are broken
Inferiority they won't accept
Partnered with jealous to remain 'perfect'
By colonisation and cultural theft
They can't be seen with any weakness
They wear their pride with their chest
Being less than black - the blueprint
Is something their fragile ego won't let happen
So instead their hatred is something they project
Because even though we are the foundation
They will claim the structure instead
To convince a world they are the architect
The ones who created the blueprint
When in reality it was us who birthed the project
Instead of accepting their jealous feelings
They decided accountability is something they couldn't associate with
They felt it would be more appropriate if history was whitewashed
Beliefs, rituals myths... are like organs of religions,
To god and goddesses, in respect, we fear like pigeons;
Apollo, Artemis, Athena, and Ares... of Greece,
Presided over by Zeus and Hera, did fear increase...!
Sumeria, Columbia, India, and Egypt,
Though varied, like treasures, had their age-old religious script;
Philosophers or poets or saints or serenely sages,
Invoked gods and goddesses before beginning their pages...!
John Milton called on the Spirit; darkness to illumine,
Lift his soul from mundane; always to dwell, in the divine;
Denise Levertov had his reason to make his house yarn,
Like a bear; and the snow blocking all the entrances, darken...!
Christians begin thoughts, words, and deeds with the Lord's great Prayer,
Muslims submit supplications - Dua - with great love and care;
Hindus chant Mantras, holding sacred power and virtue,
Sikh Akaal Moorat, Ajooni, Saibhang... have great value...!
The Eternal God living in me, I invoke, in awe,
Alla or Guru or Mohammad, or Christ of love-law;
Illuminate my lone paths in ways I do not know how,
To them, in love, sincere worship... ever I humbly bow...!
May my life, like mirrors, reflect your love, to each and all!
May yearnings of mine, like streams, in you ever rise and fall!
May no harm to any beings, in my heart spring at all!
May my soul, like a waiter, stand ready to heed your call...!
20 October 2021
A multi-religious mediator's mission
might include supporting InterFaith Green Communion
And might organize community-based
EmPowerment and Enlightenment Missions
to cooperatively organize
polyculturally resonant
Voices
To enact and advocate,
to gospel sing and liturgically dance
to empower Eastern metaphysical contextualists
and enlighten Western physical embodied sexualists,
to left brain say
and right brain gracefully do
More resilient ecological
co-relationally mediated
cooperative win/win
Choices
To always appreciatively use
and support,
to invite our best and healthiest
nonviolent theological/ecological reflective
mind/embodied narratives
experiential stories
existential restorative
healing Voices
Best sung,
strongest danced in partnerships
and teams
supporting public folk-harmonic resonance
polyculturally harvested and designed
to restore green EarthPeace healthy justice
In spontaneously invoked
through well-planned
cooperative interfaith events
experiencing co-mentorship communions,
remembering how theology feels
becoming Earth's greatest invasive Species
Forgetting to mediate
win/win optimal golden health rule thrival,
social wealth
of green cooperative
new deal vibe resilient survival
Multiculturally effusive
co-empathic working play intention
To rise each day
renewed
reconnecting
re-ligioning
A multi-religious mediator's mission
to include
supporting InterFaith
CoOperative
New/Old Deal
Healthy Democratic
Always give first priority
to passions
bicamerally win/win expressed
when actively hoping
for self empowerment
and Other best sufficient
sacred co-operative light
Of ReCreative ReStorying Energy
CoPassionately Interdependent
Health/Wealth Faith
in Green/Blue
Nature/Poor-In-AnthroPrivileged-Spirit
Ego/EcoSystemic
Same old song
with all new co-mediating contextual
bilateral
bicameral
binomial
bisensory-neurological
TranSubstantiating
Creolizing Win/Win
Integrity of Potential Left/Right
Power/Light
InterFaith Liturgical Dance
and Gospel Choir Communions
for extracting invasive species
Adding more power and light
for and from
indigenous trans-generational green
cooperative win/win wisdom.
In the penumbra of oblivion, I've engraved words of gold,
About flowers that assembled their petals from moments of beginning,
About storms, in which the lightning melted into dark forces,
And all that was here was but the gift of silence that crossed.
I've always drawn mornings that never embraced the dawn,
The story of a labyrinth where steps are concealed,
And two archangels crying tears in rasps of forgiveness,
In their hearts, the story penetrated beyond any thought.
I have constantly invoked love as a secretive star in the sky,
That retains its memory on the orbit of eternity,
And the rays of sunrise ascending from the blue waters,
Like a quest for answers that have yet to find their being.
In every quiver, I've lived life as if it were a dream,
In any wave that carves its path towards an uncertain shore,
And in the falling faith of stars in exalted heavens,
In anxieties without cure, the burden of questions without waste.
I sketched, without lamenting the cry that has extinguished in me,
The collapse of the world within me, caused by the complete whirlwind,
Where trees break away from the forest, in the silence that remained,
And their shadow persists, shrouded in the mystery that has become master.
And how wonderful it was to be with you in this mystical odyssey,
And how sad it seems to me to float alone, in an endless void,
When my steps wander on paths unknown,
And beneath my eyelids, I paint the calm from a universe stopped in a sigh.