Long Journeyed Poems
Long Journeyed Poems. Below are the most popular long Journeyed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Journeyed poems by poem length and keyword.
I’ve journeyed far with you
Through the skies
Across the oceans blue
With you I’d fly
I’ve laughed and loved and cried
You’ve braved my wrath
You’re forever by my side
On this my chosen path
You showed me the way out
When all I saw was dark
You overcame your doubt
My mate has made his mark
I’ve lived and laughed and lied
To save the land I love
As those around me died
Your face is what I dream of
Now together we will face the end
Of all our troubled care
I’ll sacrifice myself to send
My friends a better fare
I’ve failed in everything that counts
Let us not fail in this
So into battle ride the mounts
To ruin or to bliss
ODE TO A NEVER RECEDING ECHO
For Onyebuchi
Day and night in an eternal combat.
A truce : the eternal cycle of night and light
Lost in the ruse of an eclipse.
Where is the truce in the ruse of going and coming?
You found yours swinging on that threshold,
Where udara tree dances to the choirs of the wind.
Then you bend to itch the scratch.
The debt of birth repaid too soon.
Where lion wimp and head dancer limp!
Crippled Aligo!!!
Have you journeyed through the chart on your palm ?
After a drunken sip of prerian spring.
Soured tryst with Sophia.
Cherubim through the umbilical returns
To the progenitor?not conceived! Unborn!!
Halo on rusty hair sits.
Or was it your iyiuwa. Unburnt
Pleat, unpleat then pleat…
Under the star-apple tree,
Where all roads meet
Do not live on the threshold
Stay with me, ignore the whispers of these shadows
Itching your feathered cap.
You have sucked through this nipple time dry
Leave her, now flaccid, bosom. see she shrieks.
Head of the Baptist shrieks
Superfluous gift for many half Christs,
Too proud for Baptism.
I wonder why?
A pine piercing the sun
Withers at the descent of a dozen, score moon.
Eleodimmuo it is you I am calling.
You, eternity lost in time.
A dance to a never receding echo
If now is dusk, I hope the echo stays
At least,for me, a pedagogic star.
While the magi?me, beside the manger wait
For the birth of light.
While owl hoots dove’s lullaby;
Vulture hatching in eagle’s nest.
You are my Ogbanje, my forerunner
Even if the lips of days hums dirge as they pass
Now, Soldier ant from the udara returns. again.
Matching, invading my tryst, feasting on a depleted layer.
Futile to chase; deliberate in pace
Need I learn this tune?if it never rest?
Fallowed stream bites as dreams cradle me.
The black thing chants Ogbanje, Ogbanje and I sign
At this never receding echo.
In memory of Onyebuchi
If you in dancing to, faults, my beat. see a fore admission of a mortal's fallibility
Uraoma Nwannem
© Chikwado Nwattah . 2014
Breezy,
break away free bird,
as free as easy as the wind
wanderess go onward
~ through life~
with an incessant need
to find solace
and meaning
back in god’s grace
It’s penetrating places you roam
and journeyed from
Free bird without
a home, without your flock
Once wings spread across
golden honey horizons
then held still on a dock
Cries o’er the retched waves
drenched in its chunder
into the d
e
e p
pulled
u
n
d
e
r
yet, naïve waif,
like a seagull in the skyline so free,
inside is a breezy pathfinder
Blowing are the winds o’er the sea
facile and carefree
Jagged are rugged roads that block,
all paths ahead obscure
bone trails lead downward
Mountain lions abound stalk,
smell the desperation on sweat
dripper of hurt, rebellious
When ships pass in at night,
they speak in the darkness,
disappear in the vastness
Free bird fly far—far away,
never to return again
A tempest moves the wind
wildly through the trees
s~h~a~k~ing sands
Put your hands together
Wanderess,
be still, runner
contend a prayer
come into sense
come home ~
Autumn phrases as a river are being read
A man flips the page and glides his hands
He purposes a new chapter with firm eyes
And reads the river with a fresh new look
Every fold every crease is viewed by care
He steadies his course a mind of purpose
Give a quick look ahead to assist his glide
An abrupt move a change of direction
A journeyed page now concluded to anew
His story goes on down a rivered volume
Colorful edges enhance his read pieces
He furthers a read river of liked passages
Enjoying the scenery of every page shift
A river stated, a route records time entry
Eased day met of an extra Autumn book.
2019 September 22
We've all arrived at the point of our
homecoming and have come to realize
That life can be a stumbling block or
a stepping stone towards the heavenly prize
And our departure our homegoing
will surely come one day
Just make sure you fought the good fight
as you journeyed on your way
Yes life is a struggle, a tug of war
a push and a pull
But never forget to move forward
to progress like a tenacious bull
For power concedes nothing
we must fight for everything
There will be tears, there may be fears
Just don't stop til the final bell rings
My 1st Lady Dr. Angela Farr- Griffin
was a fighter most supreme
A progressive praying warrior
who lived out her dream
A valedictorian in high school
who earned her Masters and Ph.d
A promoter of health and wellness
a Doctor of Physical Therapy
A mother of 2, a grandmother to 2
and wedded for 40 years
She fought cancer to the bitter end
and never showed any fear
A life worth fighting for
that's how we all should live
To put on the full armor of God
and the Holy Spirit to us He did give
A soldier in the army of the Lord
she battled and fought every day
Her homegoing has come to pass
and towards Heaven she's made her way
She witnessed, worked and worshiped
to increase the kingdom of God
She always put her faith first
and from Him she would never depart
Passionate about many causes
Which led her to start many ministries
She believed if you stayed idle
you can't claim the victory
But most of all she was a worshipper
she continuously praised the Lord Christ
She danced, she sang she exalted Jesus
everyday of her life
But the devil is a liar
who only wants to destroy
But Angela was a jubilant warrior
consistently filled with joy
She fought the good fight
she had a life worth fighting for
And now she with her Savior
Our Lord Christ forevermore
There are echoes I hear, old songs in the dark
of the Indian ways, of long ago days,
still heard all around, in our valley below...
Where their dreams of tomorrow, are still sung by the lark....
As the twilight would come, under a red setting sun,
with the fragrance of loam, and the tired walk done...
they would bed under trees where the heather was strewn
they would burn a small fire, and prepare a warm meal,
with smoke in the breeze, while the whippoorwill's song
would, drift by the face of the moon
On their heels was the dust, in the noontime sun
They journeyed from tribes from the dusk of the past,
wearing the colorful hope of tomorrow's new task
Moving to where the buffalo roam
Then moving again, to find a new home
There are echoes I hear, old songs in the dark
of the Indian ways, of long ago days,
still heard all around, in our valley below...
Where their dreams of tomorrow, are still sung by the lark....
____________________________________
For Gail's Contest: Echoes of the Heart
You know the story, a beautiful woman, a jealous male friend, a guy interested in her. Here in The PWF, we have a story for you .
Beagal "The Mongul" Asurkki wanted a date he challenged
Muskin Caulter for half of his World tag title position, and his girlfreind. If he won he would get half of the world's tag titles and a date, the lady put in the stipulations. A back of a stake body truck.
The Mongol won and Caulters partner for fitted his share of the prize. PWF, president Dazz Delton Scott , made a falls count anywhere 5 guy match, the winner would be the Mongols tag partner and co holder of the tag team championship. The date would take place during the match. Four guys showed up, the referee started the bout. They journeyed near the truck and eventually made there way up on the back, karate chops sent men flying and fallg, the Mongul take action in defense of the woman.He pinned Skull Musky Bossinger at 18:55 and the design stood the Giant Mongul became world tag champion by himself. Dazz Scott took to the microphone and ordered The Mongul to pick a partner, he chose the World's champion, Yohann Bison. What a night for wrestling! Cool it off with a block of ice, believe me this one's hot!
Guilda Mossinger Reporting
Wrestling Pro-Chore Media!
In the depths of silence, a solemn refrain,
Where shadows gather, and whispers wane,
I'll paint a verse upon a canvas of breath,
To explore the depths where life meets death.
Death, a mysterious and inevitable fate,
A journey embarked through an ethereal gate,
With every heartbeat, it draws ever near,
A reminder of our mortality, crystal clear.
In the embrace of darkness, we find release,
A final slumber, a gentle peace,
For death is but a transition, a change of form,
A passage to realms where spirits are born.
Oh, death, you herald the end of our days,
Yet your presence gives life a poignant gaze,
Like autumn's kiss upon the trees' last leaves,
You teach us to cherish what time perceives.
In your solemn arms, we bid farewell,
To those who've journeyed beyond life's spell,
Their essence lingers, a whispered breath,
In memories cherished, they conquer death.
But let us not fear the inevitable flight,
For death, though somber, unveils its insight,
It teaches us to live with purpose and grace,
To embrace each moment, in its transient embrace.
For in the face of mortality's decree,
We find the courage to truly be free,
To savor the beauty that life bestows,
Before we, too, join death's gentle repose.
So let us honor death as a part of the whole,
A companion on the journey of our soul,
With each passing day, let us strive to find,
Meaning and love, leaving no regrets behind.
For death, my friend, is a reminder profound,
To live fully, to let our spirits resound,
To dance with passion, till our final breath,
For in embracing life, we triumph over death.
Stolen and enchanted,
Troubles and woes
have befallen the kingdom,
The King is in a hypnotic state,
Knights were sent to the land of in-between,
Eight gallant knights were sent,
To bring back the stolen chalice,
For only then can normalcy
return to the kingdom,
Only then can the evil that looms
over the kingdom be dispersed,
It was a harrowing adventure,
Encounter with darkness and its forces,
Time was reversed twice to take them back,
They broke through the continuum,
They went through the barricade,
The chalice was recovered,
Only two journeyed back to the kingdom,
They were the survivors.
I will turn back the beautiful pages of my childhood life
with a deep love that cuts my heart life a knife-
Oh, bittersweet the memory.
I am walking hand in hand with my father in a park,
and in the distance is the sound of a dog bark;
then, closer the song of a morning lark-
Oh, bittersweet the memory.
There in that park is a pond that glistens in the sun,
where we gaze- then traverse the nearby woods for fun
and because of this exploring my love of nature had begun.
Oh, bittersweet the memory.
Holding my hand, father walks me up steep steps of a church
and the interior beauty we examine and search-
Oh, bittersweet the memory.
Along the paths we journeyed, we collected rocks and things,
father would explain about feathers found from bird wings;
and from curling vines we made finger rings.
But, these reflections from the past also sorrow brings.
Oh, bittersweet the memory.
Because there came a day when I had to let go of his hand,
and it was in that same church where I had to stand;
after mother told me- father had gone to God's promised land.
Oh, bittersweet the memory.
_________________________
April 20, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/Oh, Bittersweet the Memory
Copyright Protected, ID 1014-511-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, An Early Childhood Memory
sponsor, Line Gauthier (Memory - Walking with father)
Third Place