Long Known Poems
Long Known Poems. Below are the most popular long Known by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Known poems by poem length and keyword.
As we reach our so-called golden years
Time seems to pass more quickly
We realize each day still has 24 hours
But minutes take 30 seconds, quite eery
A phenomenon known as old duffering
It's time to fit in all we lack
No sooner it's the start of a brand new day
When it's time to hit the old sack
Where did it go, what the hell happened
Was a dapper young lad then poof
People are now asking if I need any help
As I stumble around quite aloof
The dazed look on my face could be why
People are always trying to help
Sometimes my trousers are on back to front
And I quite often forget my belt
You're bound to get there too eventually
Though it seems like forever away
Surely hope you don't embarrass yourself
By walking around nude all day
The pen is mightier than the sword, but our power of speech comes from The Lord
W.O.R.D.S = S.W.O.R.D.
Words are my existence, they take me to where I need to go
carefully chosen, because from my heart they must surely flow
wanting to express my inner self, requiring a very special tone
hoping for an opportunity, to move those with hearts of stone
Just how to break down those walls, and convince minds so secure
that to reach the truth of a matter, preconceptions they must ignore
a reality exists, yet unforeseen, and by closing your eyes you will see
how this beautiful world awaits, to be everything you want it to be
My words are from another world, a hidden part of me from down inside
this key that I hold is mine to share, or maybe choosing never to confide
bringing you to my inner world, poses a risk that I might be willing to take
sometimes overcome by fear, causes me to hesitate, lest it be a mistake
Preferring to maintain my anonymity, I keep a safe distance and out of site
residing at a humble station in this world, my heart yearns to remain contrite
the breath of life that G-d has given me, a power to freely speak these words
yet I know that all that I speak is captured, returning to G-d as a flock of birds
As words are weighed and investigated, indicating how we spent our existence
nothing remains hidden before our Creator, in whose hands rests any deliverance
whether gaining passage to eternal light, or leading us to our ultimate retribution
everything depends on the noble act of repentance, this the only viable solution
How to repair the pain and tears having caused others, if we were only willing to pay
since nothing stands in the way of a person's will, "where there's a will there's a way"
the power of words is well known, some have used them to create, others to destroy
but since we have been given free will, we’ll be judged by those we chose to employ
As is clay in the hand of the sculptor, so too is the wonderous power given to create
but so many are blind to this fact, only realizing what they lost after it's much too late
words are our final destination, an eternal foundation we ourselves have forged below
rewarded by a meticulous divine calculation, basking in the Almighty's heavenly glow
Born with time... simply waiting
Gone to find... simply watching
Have I the unknown... perhaps hiding
A stranger to be known... perhaps denying
Seconds for minutes to come
Days for weeks until
Years away if not to run
Have we known life to be real?
I am following a path to somewhere
Nowhere became the end of my destination
Simply years gone of hours if I dare
To unlearn the concepts of misconceptions
Gifted with time to misuse
Am I walking too slowly?
A mind enrich to simply abuse
Am I running too carefully?
Time is death... simply waiting
Only to find... simply watching
I have the unknown... no more hiding
My stranger I’ve known... perhaps denying
Some place is out there
Forever changing to never find
Some place to know nowhere
If forever changing is but time
Have you found a place?
Somewhere to find a content to be
Isn’t there time to always chase?
When even a changed you, you do not see
And we wander to wonder
Yet…is there ever a place to be wandering about?
An ever to be to never be forever
Is there never a place to be wondering without doubt?
To know yet perhaps never knew
Somewhere some whence to simply be nowhere no when
If known yet perhaps to those few
A someone somehow is no one to everyone a never end
If I have changed… so have you
Cause everyone is someone somehow
Have you seen a forever change to be real?
When forever becomes a real you to never be found
In autumn, I came upon a garden of errant souls
And saw several souls sequestered there.
Some were well-known and some were fools,
But others were only tarrying there.
Though the sanguine souls were tall in bloom,
there were stunted souls among them.
I wondered why tall souls gave the short ones room;
And, in the end, accepted them.
Tears flowed from the stunted souls,
And I cried along with them,
Knowing their earthly sins had taken tolls.
I marveled at this hospice garden’s lack of strife,
Considering each soul’s long and hurtful history
Of sins they committed during their earthly life
Before they were planted in this secluded purgatory.
Slowly, I removed my battle-worn defensive armor
Once I realized this garden was a hallowed staging place
Wherein souls were healing deep wounds to their Karma.
As soon as healing started, souls grew tall to greet God’s grace.
And now, He was gathering the tallest ones in His arms
So that He could take them through His Pearly Gates.
I awoke again from a sound sleep – as
with my previously described experience –
more a sense of spirit rising as opposed to actually
getting out of bed; before me, in the darkness, appeared
an old, dilapidated mansion, something
one might expect in a horror story – unable
to resist I found myself walking up the
creaking, wood staircase, then entering the
structure by way of squeaky door. Inside was a long hallway;
as I progressed deeper into the sanctum, to my
right were illuminated, glass enclosures
that I walked by, something someone might expect to
see in a reptile zoo or spider exhibit. Inside were
hideously tortured beings – arms were
attached, extensions of dead, leafless trees;
legs, sunk, welded into solid rock, black and
cold, not a shred of mossy green, not the sense of
anything remotely alive and thriving. They struggled
to free themselves, to no avail. I began hearing,
wailing: "Light! Light like I have never seen
before!" -- followed by crying, a shiver of teeth noshing;
"What do you want with us?", the wailing and
groaning now almost deafening. I replied,
I mean you no harm. Don't even know
why I am here. At the end of the hallway
there was curtain I parted...stepping inside,
only to be startled by a medusa-type-head
sitting on the floor – snakes wreathing from
the top where hair would be. "Paul Lucius
David...do you known this name?" I reassured
her, for I sensed it was woman, that I do not
know this name, nor I am here to harm
you -- the snakes wreathing wildly. "Paul Lucius
David. Do you know this name?" I don't
know who this is. "You will come to know this name" –
and it was morning".
*I've been called a 'shrew,' told I am self centered, petty, and a few other rather insulting and invective names, so here is my rebuke.
Who plays the straight man for the one known as 'Schmoe?'
It's the Jester who juggles where ever Schmoe tells him to go.
Then there's Mr. DoGoody who seeks the spotlight of fame,
reproaching PS poets by pointing his finger at them in shame.
Three fatuous figures who lie in wait for Poetry Soup blogs
Croaking like three pompous bullfrogs in criticizing dialogues
Verbal abusers, slanderer of a nation, and he who prances
hoping to give Schmoe, his bro, the stage... the lackey dances.
It's a tragic case of fools rushing in where wiser men never go
A disease suffered by the egos of DoGoody, Jester, and Schmoe
A threesome pretending they're Red Barons in control of awacs
but they're just three old wacky muggins, Poetry Soup Quacks.
Ask a question and see what nonsense they will spew at you
Swearing their intent is righteous, and their cause is true blue,
but the more they protest, the deeper the holes they are digging.
A misguided clique always zagging when they should be zigging.
So if you bother to read what they write, just consider this...
the underlying meaning to their dribble shows what's amiss.
It's a game they play...one where they often make mistakes
Nuts have to be added to the batter while making a fruitcake
Now if you're thinking I'm just as guilty for some name calling,
I'm ready to be under attack with their whining and squalling.
I've already been accused by DoGoody of talking behind his back...
So here I am, you're all unblocked if you want to talk more smack.
My backslidden soul*, you were converted by GOD’s Word
As shown by your divine growth and testimony ’s record,
But you departed away from that great spiritual cord
Broken by worldly financial and material sword.
Turn to God Who rescues by His grace He can afford!
My prodigal soul, you were so blessed greatly
As the Lord provided for you tremendously,
But you neglected sound principles biblically
That caused your moral downfall fatally.
Turn to God Who can restore you fully!
My wayward soul, you were known to be Christ-honoring
As evidenced by your heavenly walk and divine bearing,
But you embraced humanistic doctrines so devouring,
Making you proud, yet continuing in miserable erring.
Turn to God Who can transform you be God-fearing!
My discouraged soul, you were before an example of zealousness
As seen in your conviction for godly standards and uprightness,
But you despised God’s presence and defied His holiness
While taking for granted prayer and Bible’s effectiveness.
Turn to God Who can bring you to His righteousness!
My unfaithful soul, you were then fulfilling the Great Commission
As proven by your mission-minded pursuits, filled with compassion,
But you failed to stay in the ancient landmarks of faith’s action
By compromising with secularism and liberalism’s motion.
Turn to God Who can plant you on His firm foundation!
My wavering soul, you were a guide to them who found real freedom
As told by those who owe to Christ thru you what they’ve become,
But you forgot the real source of genuine authority and wisdom
When you abandoned the only Way to heavenly kingdom. Turn to God Who invites that to Him you humbly come!
My dear soul, you surely need God with His forgiveness and guidance
As He alone can surely lift you up from your critical imbalance,
Beg on Him to uphold you on His church’s scriptural stance
And to behold you with His loving care by His divine glance.
Turn to God Who can pull you for revival’s sustenance!
*Psalm 6:4 Return, O LORD, deliver my soul: oh save me for thy mercies' sake.
May 22, 2018
Gone
Melting away in the past
What was once…upon a time lost
Tears form thoughts,
thoughts bring tears
Black and white fairy tales,
no happy endings
What could have been
Your smile etched
Pain driven vacancy
Wondering answers mount
It was me…all me,
I should have known
Missing your voice…words
Dancing alone eternal
Sawdust severed emotions
caught in my own steps
Tango’s lonely escape
waving goodbye to shadows
Fractured piano keys
tuned to vacuous notes
played no more
Off key movements
in metronome whispered
empty tempos
This heart shattered
My own doing
The end has come
Blowing kisses on the wind
Finality penned
in soon forgotten ink
Too many sorrys
from these lips
Eternal frowns
curving down end of days
Nothing lasts forever
Gone, you… me
Fear is present in the unknown.
We cower from its dark entity for our survival.
Can we rise to it to unveil the truth?
What will we see or What will we know?
Is it our demise, or is it our salvation?
A golden candle is lit, bringing forth its light.
It cast light into it, creating shadows of more fear.
Illuminating the rest with awe and wonder of what we see
Making it known to us its majestic beauty.
It presents to us the awe-inspiring spiritual life that our souls seek.
The Dark shadows of life beckon us not to see this truth,
But the wonder, the peace, the joy carries us to life everlasting.
We will follow it because the dark shadows offer only death.