Long Jeopardized Poems
Long Jeopardized Poems. Below are the most popular long Jeopardized by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jeopardized poems by poem length and keyword.
I lay upon the rocks and trembled, cold
while all around the darkened waters burned
and just beneath the surface there, untold
vast numbers of Inferi writhed and churned
it took some moments for my head to clear
and come to senses that the lad was gone
thus fighting through the foggy veil of fear
on hands and knees I hunted for my wand
a spell I had not cause to use for years
propelled the fire as streaks into the lake
and as the dead retreated in their fears
the boy arose uninjured from their wake
and tho' we jeopardized our lives to come
the phony Horcrux left us bleak ... and numb.
10/11/21
Sometimes
I wanted to lay low
Or get recognized
Stormy nights and days with rainbows
Was it all really like what is televised
I think not, but for you and me I wish us the best in life
Any wrongs we've done let's set it right
Meanwhile opposition continues to weaponize
Life being compromised
And jeopardized
Sometimes
I would read in-between the lines
Gave it all a lot of tries
It took more that fifteen times
Sometimes
As one of the guys
I went against what was ill-advised
Drunk and high
The outcome I paid for or it was minimized
Sometimes
I couldn't always rationalize
The answer difficult to find
And describe
As I continued to analyze
Sometimes
Areas got vandalized
There was scandal and lies
Leaving others agonized
Sometimes
I was being blind
Instead of opening up my mind
And eyes
Sometimes
I'd hide behind
A disguise
Anything to get the prize
Sometimes
I went counter clock wise
Having many lows and highs
Sometimes
The skies
Left me mesmerized
The same could be said for Fireflies
Sometimes
It wasn't all what I surmised
Or had in mind
It was quite the surprise
Sometimes
They would patronize
And chastise
Time after time
Stab you in the back with knives
Sometimes
My eyes
Would dilate to a bigger size
Felt lethargic or energized
Being lazy or exercised
Took it personally or was desensitized
Sometimes
They say it's a sign
Of the times
Among all these enzymes
It's unclear or the lines
Being drawn are fine
Sometimes I felt alive inside
And revitalized
Nearby a rising tide
It's all been an exciting ride
If I die it's fine
God made covenant with Adam
Be fruitful and multiply and have dominion
But he broke the pact with one act
God made covenant with Noah
He would never again flood the Earth above the highest peaks
God made covenant with Abraham
His decedents numbered as the sands of the seas
God made covenant with Moses
What God expected of us when we entered
into the promised land
guided by His hand
God made covenant with David
God would establish the bloodline of which
our Savior would emerge
entering the world in a time of scourge
The New Covenant puts God's laws in our hearts
Provides repentance and acceptance
Although all along from Adam through the covenants
The Ten Commandments were known and needed to be heeded
So even though the Ten Commandments were not codified
until the Exodus
God brining His people out of bondage and slavery
And the commands
Of how to conduct ourselves when God reveals
His truths and commands
To all the peoples and all the lands
The Apostle James tell us that if we break one command
We are guilty of all
Here's Adam's initial sins that led to the fall:
Self love instead of loving God
Distrust, despair, pride, presumption and cowardice
He allowed Satan to get in between him and his queen
He didn't fulfill his responsibility as prophet, priest or king
He brought dishonor to The Father
Disobedience jeopardized his entering into the eternal Sabbath
and resting in The Father
He murdered billions
He didn't protect Eve
He allowed Eve to speak to the devil
He allowed Eve to steal and failed his helpmate
He became like the father of lies by failing to speak up
He coveted God's estate
We are all guilty of sins of omission and commission
We do things we shouldn't do, and don't do things we should do
Praise Jesus Christ and God's granting of repentance
That our behavior would be like our Savior, Amen
Post tenebras lux, after darkness, light
I loathe the grief of frustration torture
When my care-giving work is jeopardized
Bringing to naught my volunteered gesture
Of love’s motive, graciously optimized.
With faith in God, I then cling to His might
Confessing faults, admitting ignorance
Moving on toward stewardship triumph’s height
While defying self-pity’s dominance.
Thus, I conquer awful guilt of failure
Striving as champion midst persistence-bout
Vanquishing conveniences that allure
Prevailing over gross vanities’ clout.
For my servant’s heart and deeds’ full harvest
I trust God’s perfect judgment*, always best!
*2Thessalonians 1:5 Which is a manifest token of the righteous judgment of God, that ye may be counted worthy of the kingdom of God, for which ye also suffer.
August 31, 2018
8th place, "The I Of The Storm" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Maureen McGreavy; judged on 12/9/2018.
A couple nights ago
(today being August 4th, 2021)
while walking around the parking lot after dark
over yonder shrieking catcall heard - hark
at first methought, a baby experienced distress,
I immediately scratched that notion
far fetched as sound out the beak of bewailing lark
but Highland Manor apartments
generally quiet as cemetery park.
Truth be told yours truly an overgrown fraidy cat
who naturally sought to turn sharp
on his heels and beat path
for domicile entrance within seconds flat.
Hypothesization generated imagination
to conjure fate worse than death
predicated after huffing and puffing
(pertaining to above mentioned activity)
gasping for my last breath
praying to dog to escape
versus being figurative cooked goose
cowardliness quickly dismissed lame excuse
to avoid become laughingstock
with addled pate stuck within noose.
Maybe ferocious feral rabid animal on the loose
oh if only seen courtesy Doctor Seuss
what with me with hair raised straight up
and/or the wild beast
charging faster than lightning greased
impossible mission to call a truce
where creature waggled her/his tail
analogous to derailed caboose
prompting joker within me
to splutter what the deuce,
not wanting to discover vis a vis
common denominator most least
cuz mortal kombat witnessed bloody bloke
pronouncing one lapsed (Aloe there)
spidery legged wandering Jew deceased.
Forsooth
aforementioned scenario fabrication of truth
insipid since contents (reasonably rhyming materiel)
devoid remotely labeled uncouth
fiction employed to entice reading poem
tastefully accomplished akin to wine
knowingly spiked with brandy
infused with herbs and spices
such sweetened drink constitutes
one of two varieties regarding
never drinking teetotaler vermouth;
red (sweet), which originally
hails from Italy, and white (dry)
which first appeared in France.
dubious churning benevolent altruism
this anonymous beastie boy boilerplate endeavors:
(instagramming literary maven) questing user yawps
critically griping knowing personal tidbits xeroxed blithely,
freely jeopardized nuggets (revealed vital), zealously doled
heftily linkedin private treasure trove, (Xfiles breached
flagrant junction mandating righteous validating zero
divulgence heaves lamentable ploy, tellingly xing bald
felonious figurative joyriding, nonchalantly revealing
valuable (Ziegfeld bomb crackling) debacle, heralding
litigious proven, X-rated, basic foolhardy (Laurel) jack
knifed, networked, rapaciously villainous, zealously dubious,
horrendously lowball practices, thru (Cambridge Analytica)
xy zealots, asininely execrable, intolerantly malignant,
quintessentially ugly, yawningly dastardly, horrendously
lamentable, pathetically treasonous, xtra blameworthy,
fiendishly jawboning, mindlessly paradigm quaking,
unethical yahoo careless gross injustice jangling kow
towing, pleasing the Xmen, banefully Facebook friggin
jerky maliciously narcissistically opprobrious predacious
quisling underhandedly yo-yoing cello glomming kik off
preachiness spar!
A Sistine Chapel lies outside our house,
a cellar used by former runaways.
Recalling stories from our grandpa Joe,
remember how he always kept a horse
to transport couples found in hiding there.
The ceiling shelves deflect a spotlight's eye
from secret spots where common folk once hid.
Consider how he felt, my grandpa Joe,
his future jeopardized within our town.
Even with the best of good intentions,
slave owners' law - greater than freedom's law.
My grandpa kept the ceiling stocked with food
for needy refugees to take their fill
in building strength to last their journey through.
Sometimes when I am zapped and cannot cope
I am compelled to grab a light and go
descending on this niche of grace and peace.
A ceiling with more beauty is not found
than grandpa's Sistine Chapel underground.
written 03-01-2018
contest: Eight Word Challenge - 24 lines maximum by Robert Haigh
It was a sudden grim tragedy,
That jeopardized lives and safety,
With neither a tremor nor vibration,
An edifice came crumbling from the foundation.
Like Titanic ship it came sinking suddenly,
Like pack of cards it came crashing all at once,
People died and got buried alive unexpectedly,
Under the dust and debris all at once.
This is more than a pandemic!
It grieves my heart and left me saddened
That forces unknown wield such polemic
Against mortals and are divinely unrestrained
Could it be there was no safety inspection,
To detect the frailty of the structure,
To check for a crack in the foundation...?
Oh, may it never happen again in the future.
Dear Lord, to the deceased grant pardon
That their souls may find eternal rest
And to those they left grace to bear
In hope that they are saved from eternal grief
A friend to a friend, she has made my bed unkempt
up for grabs, the lady lays, halleluyah to alcohol for this prey
she faces the heavens, a highly appealing sexual offering
every of her, is in display and begs to be measured
the spread of both pairs of limbs makes it strictly an invitation
and bare thighs stimulating his skin to produce its own vaseline
walking into this presentable scene, his strength goes bald
this ticket for a night banquet is stained with blood
massive salivation, part of the incredible celebration
and the boy behind the zip stretches to have a good look
his weak link with her can be jeopardized
two minutes of corruption, the brain becomes an organ of dirt
the heart is bigger, to see this calamity
not a time to be stupid, he covers her with the nearest blanket.
Published: 05/17/2020
Catholic
Stern but saintly Father Meissen
scolded the parents for not having
their baby boy baptized sooner.
It was April, 1952,
inside the stained-glassed catholic church,
ensconced on sun-split Newlin street,
avenue of pink oleanders and cracking sidewalks.
According to the chagrined mother,
she was told that delaying this pivotal sacrament
for three complacent months,
after the boy’s birth on January 11,
was unequivocally unacceptable,
and that waiting so eternally and unendingly,
actually jeopardized her befuddled baby’s soul.
For if he had died, say in March of 1952,
unbaptized,
then his eternal soul, because of original sin,
would have been mercilessly subject
to the inscrutable tortures of hell,
and the lake of fire.
As per destiny, this glued-on scenario
was not realized, and instead,
the boy received the abundant graces
of a head-turning God that day,
as the boy’s shiny oblivious head
was gently and sanctimoniously doused
with priestly-blessed holy water, fresh
from the rippling baptismal fount,
anchored dogmatically with rusted rebar,
deep below the shadowy sacristy,
among the obstinate urns
and the dark-voiced Dominus vobiscums.
But now we hear his older, wiser voice,
undulating like a lark’s-heel after the begging,
hiding the treason of a reprobate mind,
fondling the prayers of ten thousand children,
crying silent astonished tears
into the cold marble baptismal fount;
A groping wet madness firmly set
among the kneeling statues, and the holy linens,
encrusted with fool’s gold and trusting threads.
What kept these stilled voices unheard for so long?
Why did they not speak before this somber time?
Why did they bend, roll over and
close their eyes so cooperatively?
So reverently?
No one can possibly speak
about the unspeakable, for
Father’s holy, righteous indulgences
were unequivocally unacceptable.
But it is too late now.
Mine eyes can clearly see now
the crying sunken skull at Golgotha,
turning its furious eyes away.
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