Long Kneel Poems
Long Kneel Poems. Below are the most popular long Kneel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kneel poems by poem length and keyword.
It's true, you don't have to kneel to shine/
Saints are not made by chains divine/
I stand unbowed, my spirit whole/
Too pure to yield, too fierce to fold/
Heaven's gates demand my knees/
Yet I walk past with steady ease/
An iron fist may rule the sky/
But I refuse to live that lie/
Let guilt decay where it was spun/
I do not answer, I do not run/
No shadowed throne can force my soul/
No scripture binds, no weight controls/
The say the saints bear burdens tight/
But I will rise beyond their plight/
If purity means silent chains/
Then let me stray beyond their claims/
I am not bound by written lore/
No holy debt that I must store/
My life is mine; my love is free/
No book, no fist, no rule on me/
I do not grovel; I do not plea/
I do not bend; I do not flee/
I walk the path where stars ignite/
Too pure for Heaven, fierce in flight/
My hands unchained, my heart untamed/
No throne to beg, no sin proclaimed/
I rise, I soar, I stand alone/
Too pure for Heaven, made my own/
Down in a little stable on what seemed an average morn,
Amid the sheep and cattle there, a little Lamb was born.
Destined to be a Savior to a world in frightful need.
Now laid within a manger where the livestock all would feed.
Behold the Lamb of God, come now to save us all from sin.
The One to fight the battle and from death our souls will win.
Behold the little Child who will one day carry a cross.
The Shepherd we’ve been waiting for to save all who are lost.
The shepherds from the fields would come to bow before the Lamb,
Astounded to be witnessing their God come as a Man.
But they had heard the angels singing out in choral praise
To a Child in a manger. Truly wondrous are God’s ways!
A star so brightly shining several wisemen use as guide.
A long time will they journey just to kneel down at His side.
And bringing kingly gifts of frankincense and myrrh and gold
They give them to the little Lamb foretold by seers of old.
Now, look into your hearts whom He saved from death and sin.
And contemplate your living, do you try to follow Him?
Then take some time to think about this humble little Lamb
Who is the Lord of Glory now come down to us as Man.
Brilliant, grandiloquent, magnificent, trenchant...
Writing prompts burst asunder
deafening soundcloud roared
with apocalyptic thunder
'course only audible to yours truly,
I did dumbfoundedly wonder...
At o'clock tick tocking wee hours brisk
December seventeenth
two thousand nineteen
simultaneous blinding fiery kindling
quickening xing risk
within winkin blinkin and nod,
I feared full light of day brainstorm
snatched away courtesy invisible whisk
broom all those potential
ideas sprung while
Messiah by George Frideric
Handel's never out of style
within cerebral nooks and
crannies (think Ohiopyle),
whereby Youghiogheny River
bubbles, gurgles, fuels river mile
after mile harnesses and doth generate
approximately twelve Megawatts
of electricity per hour, to alleviate
domestic counting eight
thousand homes necessitate
distributed across western
and central Pennsylvania.
Analogous catching
courtesy goo goo dolls barenaked
ladies hands spawning
salmon slippery as an eel
(if curious don't take my word,
which might not appeal)
though yours truly
offers no guarantee,
you could easily fall
overboard as ye kneel,
which subsequently offers
live human meal
to hungry sharks, impossible mission
to escape no matter
how loud you squeal,
bouquets delphiniums and daisies
designate watery grave site
dissolving blood amidst the color teal.
Aforementioned depiction, whereby current
commander in chief
admittedly no gent
till man nor scholar, and
he cavalierly lent
and nearly fin hushed nearly
(possibly already) rent
asunder high crimes and
misdemeanors, he casually spent
constitutional principles of democracy,
whereby I experience torment
precipitating quasi riptides undercurrent
bigotry, demagoguery, "fakery,"...
misogyny, vanity vetted vice
whereby woebegone grievances
Pandora's box loosed
helter skelter they went.
Anyway... synonymous maintaining
readership attention blinker
necessary to apply unsuspecting
hook, line and sinker
without rousing ire principal
(at Henry Kline elementary
my dear watson Mister Rinker)
long since retired,
he possibly maybe grandfather
of one or more freethinker.
God sees the poor in spirit* groaning in pain
Languishing in fleshly miseries where they’re slain
Being ruled by discouragement that’s vain
While hoping for His miracle to gain.
God invites them to immerse himself in His loving domain!
God hears them crying for divine aid and support
Excruciating from downfall’s discomfort
Wailing due to deceit and false report
While begging for His help, their ultimate resort.
God leads them to kneel with faith humbly before His gracious fort!
God knows them needing for urgent care
Beseeching for His assured welfare
Ailing with discontentment’s scare
While longing for His promises they treat as rare.
God brings them to His throne where at His blessings they can stare!
God understands them sighing anxiously
Expressing their complaints sorrowfully
Murmuring about unfairness grudgingly
While questioning their state bitterly.
God counsels them to seek His will meaningfully!
God recognizes them in their struggles against frustration
Succumbing to sinfulness’ oppression
Leaning toward welcoming desperation
While craving for His pardon’s restoration.
God grants them forgiveness upon confessing their iniquities of destruction!
God remembers them cringing in difficulty
Mourning over their self-inflicted calamity
Grieving because of worldliness-caused infirmity
While yearning for His joy and tranquility.
God cares for them with His mercy, guiding them by His light’s authority!
God pities them in their woes as they feel worthless
Wallowing in the futility of slothfulness
Afflicted with the guilt of fruitlessness
Pleading for His compassion and faithfulness.
God instructs them to serve Him thru His power to enjoy His bountifulness!
*Matthew 5:3 Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
December 15, 2018
7th place, "Tinker, Taylor" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward; judged on 12/29/2018.
Silently shrill
a silent chill
seems to have run down the spine
of our blue planet windmill
So many deceased
Too many ill
mounting and surmounting
the hospital bill
Breathing for many
is like climbing uphill
or like panting on
your home treadmill
And it's frightening when
there is nil a pill.
A minute invisible
virus doth kill .
Pray to God for mercy
bow and kneel!
Many are dying
without a will
It's safer to stay home
by the window sill
The world seems to have come
to a standstill
You now have time to sharpen
your poetic quill
In lockdown pray
and ink still spill
You may hone
your poetic skill
Until the virus
has had its fill.
Corona they say feels like drowning
like a fish without a gill
for we can't breathe
like the eel or krill.
In mouths hot water
flush and swill
Exterminate this virus?
only God can and will.
Listen in,
The ultimate weapon that lays
heavy on your soul like an anvil,
they can motivate you to pursue your dreams, or
crush your whole existence and
leave you at a stand still,
there is power in them,
you can build strong towers with them,
Going as far as the imagination,
they can serve as the foundation of a nation,
or bring genocide to an entire generation,
In the beginning,
God spoke the world into existence with them,
In the 1950's, MLK, Malcolm X,
and Huey P. Newton started a resistance with them,
They can conquer all fears,
or provoke all tears,
promote life or death
as they travel from lip, to ear,
At times they are boldly profound,
but sometimes, their most powerful
statement is made, without so much as a sound.
They are the solitary confiners,
the subliminal reminders
that we are creatures of habit,
good or bad they are like drugs,
and it is easy to become an addict
In church we kneel and pray with them,
with friends we tend to play with them,
but be careful what you say with them,
because the words, we, give to others,
has a tendency to stay with them....
One.
Chills are racing, through the air,
no time to waste, no time to spare,
looking here, and looking there,
can't seem to find, it anywhere!
Searching for, that special thing,
a nice new coat, a shiny ring,
a fancy tie, a child's swing,
at last I found, the newborn king!
Such busy times, it's hard to stay,
along the path, so dark and grey,
but when the burden, begins to weigh,
just kneel down and start to pray!
The Christmas gifts, that you must buy,
for kids to open, and raise up high,
don't even know, the reason why,
that one was born, and had to die!
To give us what, were searching for,
the life and love, for ever more,
the faith that's lost, he shall restore,
he's knocking now, just open the door!
Accept the gift, that's offered to you,
from the one, who's honest and true,
full of compassion, and moral virtue,
so you may be born, again and renew!
Now we are breathing and living here.
But anytime we have to quit this sphere,
So, have maximum control of life’s gear,
And to solid values, we must adhere.
Fill your heart with the elixir of love.
Champion the cause of peace as your vow.
Act in the Present and look up with hope,
For it’s the magic that fills up every cup.
Wipe a tear and bring some cheer,
That sure will leave you truly dear.
Make the weary feel that you care,
And lighten the burden that they bear.
A glow of warmth when borne on your face,
Adds so much more to your innate grace.
So light up your face with radiant smiles,
And let your laughter ring down the aisles.
Nothing lasts ever, it’s wise to learn.
So why go crazy for so much to earn?
Worldly gains may add up to your fame,
But such transient things, your soul may defame!
Happiness resides nowhere but inside.
Be vexed or relaxed is up to you to decide.
Turn the commonest fare in to a royal banquet.
And let little things bring joy and delight!
Rejoice in Life and Nature’s bounteous source.
Never let passing trifles be your course.
Humble yourself and kneel down to pray,
For it is God who shows us the way.
With all ills, it’s still a beauteous world.
Never ever see it as a desert bald!
Slow down your pace to look around,
And enjoy the marvels that surround!
There is no money in poetry
The foundations have been laid, now the money needs to be made.
I want to become a full time poet; how do I make this pay?
Is there anybody out there willing to offer a helping hand?
If poems were worthy £1, I would have made a grand.
What is poetry worth?
I know the value of words;
But what hope is there for a future,
When poetry is all free, just like music?
We live in a changing world.
Still seeking a publisher;
Still seeking inspiration.
Still seeking enlightenment;
Still in need of a vacation.
I write at least one poem a day; now I’m on book twenty two.
I like that Twenty One Pilots song they are playing;
I wish I could know what you think. What will it take to prove,
That people like my poetry and the words that I use?
No other job will ever inspire me, I have a vocation;
This is my truth. This is what I do.
Please send a sign, or a contract to sign;
It’s a sign of the times, that there is no money in rhymes.
I’m not asking for much money; just enough to live comfortably.
I dream of having my books published; no I’m not being funny.
I’m deadly serious; this is what I need, what I want.
I want to be a poet; I will do whatever I must.
My life is too short on this Earth to be lying, in the sun;
I must write, I must yearn; I must believe and I must trust.
One thousand poems written; some good, some bad.
But the majority are welcomed with open hands. I gave it all I had.
I am still a novice; I am always honest.
I am getting better with age; even if this poem doesn’t show it.
This is truth, this is real; now let it pay for my meals.
I am humble before all poets; if you ask I will kneel.
I will beg you to just take a look at my works;
Do not judge me by just one poem. That is all I ask;
Surely this I deserve.
No poet can always be perfect;
My style may be different to theirs,
But we are all worthy of your notice…
Let us know that you care.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
"Joy Was Born This Night"
On Christmas night, so calm and bright,
The stars shone soft and clear,
As in a small and humble place
Our Savior came so near.
A baby born, the promised King,
In straw and manger bed,
No crown of gold upon His head,
But love was what He spread.
The angels sang of peace and joy,
Good news for all the earth,
The shepherds came with open hearts
To see the Savior’s birth.
O come and kneel by Jesus now,
This child so small and mild,
For heaven came to live with us
Through Mary’s holy Child.
So let us sing with thankful hearts,
Let songs of joy be heard
On Christmas Day, our King was born
The Savior, Christ the Lord.
Let every voice proclaim
Joy to the world our King is born!
Forever bless His name.