Long Lack Poems
Long Lack Poems. Below are the most popular long Lack by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lack poems by poem length and keyword.
Ash Wednesday, one day to reflect
why Christ our souls would resurrect.
Good it is to be in accord,
time spent in fasting and prayer,
repenting of sin and despair.
Good that forgiveness is implored,
not fearing fickle consequence
or flaunting lack of confidence.
Good, relationships are restored
between servant and the Master,
triumph instead of disaster.
Good is one day spent with the Lord.
Ash Wednesday, one day to reflect,
any Wednesday in retrospect.
Better to find a church with worth
where daily friends will help you cope
worshiping One who brings new hope.
Better for you God’s truth unearth -
studying the Scriptures with friends,
learning God’s wisdom never ends.
Better to know in wealth and dearth,
your faith in God is paramount;
and circumstances do not count.
Better any day to, discern your re-birth.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust!
Best of all, our Creator God -
Daily, He is loving and just.
Best of all, our Savior Jesus -
Every hour, One you can trust.
Best of all, indwelling Spirit -
Each moment helps us readjust.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust!
Steadfast holiness is a must.
written May 11, 2018
In fields of country wheat,
from the corner of my eye,
In amber grains discrete,
a Coyote stood chest high.
Nostrils flared,
with eyes in constant search,
Horizons scanning,
poised to quickly lurch.
Collar bristled in the wind,
he quickly turned away,
A scent of prey he’d just inhaled,
lured him to the fray.
And as he swiftly disappeared
to meet his destiny,
I turned to meet my own again,
now filled with jealousy.
There is a call he answers
that I feel inside of me
Amidst a lack of freedom
I have known.
Commitment, obligation,
and responsibility,
The life, I feel, that’s chosen me;
the one which I now own.
But we each knew
for just an instant,
as he took his flight,
we both would howl,
for different reasons,
at the moon tonight.
~Running the Gauntlet ~
Simplistic in its structure…
Nearly amateurish…
Unpolished attempt…
Superficial…
Facile…
Without subtlety…
Nonsensical…
Journalistic attempt at prose…
Lack of complexity…
Unimaginative…
The underlying message is vacuous…
Unsophisticated…
Puerile attempt…
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Dear doggy friend
Where are you now?
It's been a while
I miss you, how
So loyal and cheery
All the time
You'd never moan
Or whinge or whine
(well maybe a little)
That tail of yours
Would always send
A signal, so every heart
Would mend
You loved your food
Your walks and scratches
Your presence such
No human matches
I miss that chin
Upon my lap
Attentive to my
Human lack
I miss that crazy
Mad half hour
To save our faces
Turning sour
I miss you barking
At the waves
I miss that welcome
Every human craves
I miss the fetching
And the fun
I miss those moments
Every one
So when my time
On Earth is done
And heaven calls
This wayward son
As gates swing wide
Your face, a bone;
There's none I'd rather have
To welcome home
I die of thirst beside the fountain
I'm hot as fire, with shaking teeth
In my own country I'm in distant land
Beside the blaze I'm shivering in flames
Naked as a worm, dressed like a president
I laugh in tears with hope and despair
I cheer up after feeling sad and hopelessness
I'm joyful and no pleasure's anywhere
I'm powerful and lack all power and strength
Warmly welcomed, but always turned away.
I'm sure of nothing but that is uncertain
Find nothing obscure but the obvious
Doubt nothing but the certainties
Knowledge to me is cheer comfort
I keep winning but remain the loser
At dawn I say 'God bless and good night.'
Lying down I'm afraid of falling
I'm rich I haven't a penny
I await an inheritance; I'm no one's heir
Warmly welcomed, but always turned away.
I always work and labour hard
To acquire goods I don't even want
Kind words irritate me most
He who speaks true deceives me worst
A friend is someone who makes me think
A white swan is a black crow
The people who harm me think they help
Lie and truth today I see through them
I remember everything, my mind's a blank
Warmly welcomed, but always turned away.
Merciful may it be to please you know who
I understand much and have no wit learning
I'm biased against all laws impartially
What do I do next? Redeem my pawn goods!
Warmly welcomed, but always turned away.
For Contest:
Line of inquiry: have we repaid all debts of love we owe?
He’s Coming Back
Fall weeps, leaves pouring from the skies
Echoing gently, flow of glorious prayers
Fading from the nostalgic rhythms so wise
Reminding that there truly are angels unawares
Fall listens in the stillness, her precious grace
Arising with the sun in mysteries of softest light
Flowing from the indigo hues time will not erase
She is the music of joy pouring out into the night
Fall blessings, simple harvest stories and praise
Rustling on the crisp twilight, faithful in all His ways
Breaking through the melancholy with love to amaze
Dancing in the oaks and pines, through golden grays
Fall glistens, in the heart who truly knows
God has blessed the Autumn with a joy so true
Promises of love linger as the misty moon glows
Remembering it is Jesus who makes each heart brand new
Fall colors, rise across the hills
Telling a story of all that is God’s will
He reveals the wonder of love that stills
So we know Him – His love our souls will heal
Fall’s wisdom lives despite the darkest black
Comforts with hope and faith we may lack
Fall assures me that my spirit will never crack
Because I believe, like the leaves, He will soon be coming back
The Seine river banks,
with their lack of guardrails, freaked
me out in fourth grade:
"Avez-vous entendu?!!"
My best friend rushed to ask it.
"Did you hear?! (the news)"
A woman drowned!!
She gushed - the horror tale
punch line delivered.
My eyes were wide with
shock and fear - the monster takes
another victim.
The dark Seine river
slithered, like a green snake
- feet from my front door.
There was no railing
- a misstep would drop you some
12 feet, to your cold death.
No parent could save
you - a terrifying thought for
a nine year old girl.
Walking to school, my
brother would sneak up, nudging
me near left-bank death.
I would scream, amid
cat calls and boyish laughter,
despite our au pair.
My best friend, Chloe, shared
my caution, if not my fear,
and loved to tease me.
That rapid river
loomed large in my dreams - as fears
can - for many years.
Last year we were in
Paris and I still couldn't go
near the riverbank =]
I tried to run,
I tried to hide.
He chased me down,
He took my pride.
Make me humble,
Every step of the way.
I don’t deserve it,
But I get it anyway.
Just let it go,
It’s not up to me.
What’s it gonna take
For us to break bread together?
To love one another
As He has loved us?
Starting little fires,
Here and there.
Fruit of salvation
Delivered to the masses.
10/7/25
Guide my steps,
Guided and measured.
According to Your pace,
Your glory and grace.
No fear with You
I know you’re in control.
Where my feet may fail
I know you never will.
Incomplete is not of God.
Unfinished is not of God.
Spirit of lack is not of God.
Coming undone is of God.
He’ll undo the worst,
He’ll make it the best.
Pulled apart by the flesh,
God will give refresh.
Better than before,
Better than we can imagine.
Less is more and more is less.
Better than before.
God shows up on time.
God works in due time.
But water the earth
For this new birth.
10/8/25
Hold my hand
As I uphold your love.
Peace is jolly good,
We toil for food.
Blessed are you,
Lord our God.
King of the universe,
Who brings forth
Our daily bread.
Streets littered with white paper sheets
Printed with the ink of black missing kids
Floating through the air desperate to find somebody who cares
Empty are the streets, just like their parents home
Awaiting the day they'll be reunited with their beloved children
Authorities won't listen
Not one eye lid batted
They look the black parents in the eye feeling joy from their sadness
And as cold as ice say their kids disappearance doesn't matter
They claim they've probably run away
That attention is what they want
So they won't feed into their kids 'temper tantrum'
Then to sprinkle salt into the wound
They claim the town has been much quieter
I didn't know that it was a crime for children to play
But then again when you're a black kid innocence doesn't really matter
Last week they stated BLACK LIVES MATTER
Then again it would be naive to believe
That a system built after slavery
Would care to 'serve and protect' black people
Maybe there is a reason to their indifference
Their ability to lack sympathy
Maybe just maybe
They're the reason the black kids went missing
The room speaks for itself -
It doesn’t speak at all
It exists, without breath
Silence suffocates -
The room is empty,
Not because of lack of people,
But because it lacks presence,
Something - or someone is missing,
The scent of death lingers
People crowd the room,
Yet loss consumes -
For now the room becomes a tomb,
A place cursed by harsh truths
A boy is gone,
Killed by a system -
Who criminalised colour,
The knock at the door, still echoes,
Haunted by the ghost of a warmth long gone
The room is still,
As if death has claimed the space,
Misery loves company -
And it’s favourite company - grief