Long Lent Poems
Long Lent Poems. Below are the most popular long Lent by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lent poems by poem length and keyword.
At Golgotha, His arms stretched wide,
Our loving Lord was crucified.
No greater love to give a friend
Than a life’s end.
That morning, it was nine AM
When they took nails and pierced His skin.
And on the cross they hung Him high
So He would die.
The people watched as they stood by,
The ones who cried out, “Crucify!”
They jeered and sneered and shook their heads
At all He’d said.
A thief was there at either side.
One mocked Him out of fear and pride.
The other said that he believed,
“Remember me.”
From noon ‘til three the sky grew dark
And people feared within their hearts.
The sun was gone, day disappeared,
The end was near.
“This your mother. This your son.”
He said to John and the Blessed One.
“It is done.” Aloud He cried.
And then He died.
We loved the land
We tilled the earth, under sun we toiled
We pledged our souls, to nature’s whim
The King of France none to pleased
We took the sacraments
We held our faith, mournful to fates embrace
The British demanded a new oath we take
And scalped we were, both sides did partake
Our villages burned, our fields afire
Our woman and children, in hunger perished
We feared Monckton, a hunter of death
And from him, to ships hold, deported at best
We preyed to Canada, to lend us a hand
Evangeline an angel of our land
The darkened forests, to where we fled
Became bloody in battles, and turned to red
For Redcoats wandered in search of scalps
As Father Le Loutre preached unheavenly deeds
He was bloodthirsty and in skirmishes his evil flourished
His Mikmaq warriors helped rivers flow to blood
We lived along the rivers edge
We fought them all, to no one did we pledge
As serfs we served, to whom did rule
In the end, the forest sang our quiet eulogy
The vessels sailed from Halifax
With their human cargo of Partisans
Off to the West Indies, and a new land
Disease triumphed where Lord Laurence failed
And so the voyage, onward went
The traditions of Grand Pre, to Louisiana was lent
And there they settled, peace at last
As angels of their battles, in sacrifice did rest
When I am gone, I will regret expended time
I wasted lavishly on matters less sublime.
For too long I have been in constant motion til
Inveterate blindfold broke loose and let me see -
World's stunning grandeur worth admiring lies standstill
In unsurpassed, bold and primal state of carefree.
I should've paused for a second, for a minute,
Upon majestic statue of the mountain peak,
A mud puddle after rain with sun ray in it,
A silent snowflake wafting chilly on my cheek.
I should've lent my helping hand to many more,
The poor and wretched among us predominate,
Sweeter reward is to care than to be cared for -
Late learnt lesson, whether acquired or innate.
I should've called you every day because I could,
Held you tight and tender in intimate embrace.
Walking the earth seemed as a privilege for good,
Along the sacred myth of ever lasting days.
If I could only take it back for better cause -
To lavishly admire - more often I would pause.
January 23, 2023
Contest: Poetry Marathon
Sponsor: Mark Toney
It’s never tomorrow. It’s always today -
at least in this moment it is, anyway!
So if you are saying out loud a big Wow,
you’re not in tomorrow. You’re here in the NOW.
Maybe you said something great yesterday.
Tomorrow the same thing another may say.
Whenever they say it, that moment will be
in THEIR own “today,” which you cannot foresee!
The future is never one hundred percent.
The past has been purchased; tomorrow is lent.
Today we are paying right now as we go.
Enjoy it fully. It does not go slow.
Reminiscing is only for our yesterdays.
Living today, you’re right now in THIS phase.
Make wishes, but don’t squander time in that way.
Tomorrow will be what you make of today!
Nov. 20, 2018 for Edward Ibeh's Tomorrow Poetry Contest
Holding hands for the very first time,
I looked in your eyes, you looked at mine.
Sitting together alone on the leafy Heath,
The way we smiled, love was beneath.
Taking your sweet face in my hands,
Having you in my life was in my plans.
I lent forward toward you for my first kiss,
Feeling nervous and excited, it was bliss!
The first kiss was like nothing I ever felt,
It was just enough to make my heart melt.
Thinking all this was too good to be true,
I never thought I’d spend this time with you.
When I embrace your body close to mine,
The scent of your soft skin, so divine.
I will love you forever, just wait and see,
Knowing always my darling, we were meant to be.
POETESS MOTHER MAYA ANGELO
by James Edward Lee Sr.
Mother warrior, wordsmith poetess
Maya;
Sister, daughter of the almighty Father
Maya;
You set the world on fire;
Fearless
Breathless a world that's in a mess;
God lent us this person
Maya;
A wordsmith, poet, activist,
an actress, dancer she has most of the answers;
A visionary for the oppress;
A representative of women causes;
Did I mention one voice one of God's daughter;
And if I could me ya;
I confess I'd be honored
Mother Maya, poetess
God bless
Poet Maya Angelo
So kind Mother Rhyme;
Never backing down;
I know why the caged bird sings;
Thank-you Lord (for everything)
God thanks for sharing;
Maya Angelo;
Still I rise;
The Lesson;
When you come
So kind Mother Rhyme;
Never backing down;
I know why the caged bird sings;
Mama Rhyme you're now
Touched by an Angel;
We miss you, we love you;
Poetess Mother, Sister...
Maya Angelo
Your words will forever go on and on and on..
"Marguerite Annie Johnson"
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
from anthology " God's Children Poets Poems and Friends 2"
In Eastbourne, a chance to be reborn, In Eastbourne, I mourn the life I've worn.
A life where scorn pours on childlike heart, In the shadows of a world that feels
worlds apart.
Ordinary lives go on by, while I linger concealed, a ghost in my own fairy-tale,
forever unsealed.
Who are you to dictate where my spirit can soar?
Who are you to judge the breaths I explore, to silence the thoughts and feelings
you find disgraceful, In this intricate dance, my reality's faithful?
Yet here I stand, a king without his crown, a castle lost, my throne turned upside
down, castrated by the voices seeking to confine, I just can't bear this weight,
this burden of mine.
Eastbourne promises sanctuary, solace for the lost, a refuge for the weary, no
matter the cost.
But alas, my fate feels sealed, like grains in an hourglass,
watching time slip away, too fast for me to grasp.
Here at Beachy Head, where the weary souls meet,
drained and disheartened, retreating with defeat.
No longer ignored, yet feeling so trapped, incompetence echoes, a silent
mishap.
I choose to surrender, to bury my strife, in the depths of the deepest darkest
nights, to the depths of the rocky cliffs of Eastbourne Beachy Head.
I choose to either reclaim my life or to aim to end my life.
No fear of departing, for I'm already spent, it's time to embrace what this
journey has lent.
Beloved Eastbourne, your cliffs are calling my name, in the silence, I find the
peace to be free.
O half-broke wing-back, wind buoyed Kite --
Thou is beautiful! Thou'st cruelly conspired:-
An all conquering indifference - yours a tyrant's ire!
Yours the mewing notes of the notched pipe...
You lent it out to give the reed high-pitched form;
And, reflected in its final, crashing flight,
Yours is the Phoenix's terrible, blazing silhouette!
Long I have marveled at some other lines...and yet,
Although awed at such perfect efficiency, upon sight
Of one particular viciousness I felt forewarned
Of a dreadful act soon to be committed; but might
Well we excuse all murderous intent, for the higher
Art of killing is not ours alone: all what we admire
In war contained in a dart; even the night
Will never have known such a terror! Then a solitary
Bird tumbling down to tear at the rotting carrion....
But not before the crackling voice pleads: "we must
Soldier on, we must soldier on, we must soldier on"..........
You offer your smile when you see me cry
Lending your air when I need to breathe
Becoming my heart when I need to feel
Being there each time when I miss a beat.
In your gratifying image I retain my own
For your friendship is all I've even known,
Residing there, leaning on you frequently
Making your home my place of sanctuary.
Trusting your navigation I steer my life
Relying readily on your calming advice,
Traversing your roads to take me there
Where you and I haven't been together.
Happily you treat me like I'm a queen-bee
Holding a reservoir of hive full of honey.
Yet, you don't wish to partake in sampling
Afraid that it might ruin our friendship.
Heart you lent me yearns for your love,
Smile you gave me aches for your touch.
No point denying the message they send,
Wishing we were more than just friends.
March 18, 2018
Placed first in contest #512 by Brian Strand
The last trailing tendril filaments
of moon beams nocturnally trace
fashion an illusory gilded chariot Ark,
whence upon celestial runners,
the approach of dawn's early light
illuminated terrestrial space
which nebulous solar city flanges
revisited since time millennial
hubbub of human race
nsync with Zodiacal constellations,
which appear to shift
as planet Earth axis place
alternated in accordance with
inexplicable universal teenage
mutant Ninja turtles joint pact
with power rangers assumption
sans quotidian playstation remotely
controlled by aliens upon
oblate spheroid figurative stage
set whence commencement nudged
village people foment quiet riot rage
and rant against
uncontrollable catastrophic frenzy,
when cosmic creator
rehearses another page
from playbook, which
color coded cobbled Bible
emanates with radiant hues
of yellow and osage
nonetheless, no mortal adept to predict
(only within plus and/or minus
some marginal variance of error).
oft times punishing atmospheric phenomena
incarcerated, pistol whipped
(if anther incorrect),
whiplash unleashed, oppressed, imposed
challenging condition testing ground
flora and fauna could thrive,
whereat most hardy
plants and animals didst abound
linkedin upon terra firmae
murmur of orchestrated
organisms devising fitting
evolutionary survival traits
plentiful glory vis a vis L'Chaim;
gnome hatter outlook required
sprinting thru uber vanguard,
where zero sum game pitted
disadvantaged Feng shui
living things poorly sparred mismatched
against itching attired egghead,
kickstarting netzero beastie boys
indeed emulating hotmail prodigies
holding greensward ground.
scrimmage fostered, elicited,
dictated, commandeered nature
going full throttle with pings
across biological labyrinth
positioning glommed, peeved,
mis tweeted seeds of life, and white lily,
within soil lent green grubby business
whereby herb and woody stemmed
recalcitrant proto flings
wrote toe rooter bakers
gave Gaia a run for her money
to buy Buffalo wings
chasing miscreants nimbly
outwitting, out-rigging
outsmarting nettlesome stings,
and sage protuberant fungi,
released messengers where rise home
spore ports left nada mushroom,
though symbiosis wood
bark a roll a cord.