Long Lifeprayer Poems
Long Lifeprayer Poems. Below are the most popular long Lifeprayer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lifeprayer poems by poem length and keyword.
If we listen to the wind will we hear the call?
What of the years we spent “Back against the wall”
Years they come and they go “All is the same”
When you find yourself with a number for a name
First they load you on a bus in a paper suit
Making jokes with the homeboys “Bro you sure are cute”
Then comes the dreaded ride on the prison bus
Transport guards let you know “Don’t even mess with us”
You finally reach R&R really quite the treat
“I don’t care what you need I said take a seat”
As 5 minutes passes by you think of all the years
Getting set in your mind to face all your fears
You do the things that you must do in order to survive
Unless your one of the unlucky ones who doesn’t make it out alive
You don’t even realize that you are overwhelmed with hate
As the day finally comes and you make it out the gate
Then your back on the streets as healthy as can be
Hooking up the party life like when you were free
Just as though some real smart dude planned this to design
Because of the number on your back you are right back doing time
Then you catch a second term and this one is a strike
Nothing new ahead of you it’s just like riding a bike
Soon as you hit the yard you fall into your routine
Everyday like the one before one hell of a bad dream
Then again you are released but nothing is as it seems
Because your life has turned into one long desperate dream
You are driven by a desire to rise up to the top
For some reason that desire just won’t seem to stop
Even though your doing well against everything you feel
You go against your heart and soul to conjure up a deal
As the pitcher takes the mound you step to the plate
Problem is he’s throwing hard and you are swinging late
You want so bad to hit the ball as it whizzes by
You hang your head full of dread with no tears left to cry
Now you’re back in the cell with an L and 37 years
Maybe now you’ll have the time to face all those fears
The year’s forever come and go like dust in the wind
The only thing that I know “I sure do miss my friend”
I dedicate this poem to my dear friend
who is currently fighting the California
three strikes law for his life. If you
could please hold him in prayer thank you.
Jesse (REDMAN) Wasson
I was traveling all alone;
Hundreds of miles from my home;
I stopped in the hotel bar to have a beer and watch the game.
It was a town in the Midwest;
I was a little down I will confess;
The town was small and the hotel bar, just the same.
I sat between two girls and a guy;
They’d had enough to no longer be shy;
Within minutes we shook hands and shared our names.
They were really happy folks;
We told stories and many jokes;
Before we knew it, the bar’s one o’clock closing time came.
I charged the drinks to my room;
Said my room number aloud, I assume;
We said, “Good-bye, hope to see you sometime again.”
I was in my room, five minutes, no more,
When there was a light knocking at my door;
I thought, “To my wife, how this, could I explain.”
I quickly said me a prayer,
“Oh Lord, please don’t put temptation there.”
I am weak, a little tipsy and totally lame.
When my visitor I did espy,
It wasn’t one of the girls, it was the guy;
Not what I expected, but my prayer was answered just the same.
He was harmless enough,
But I’m not into that kind of stuff;
I sent him back to his room without inflicting any shame.
The next night at the same time,
I revisited the scene of the crime;
It was only me, the bartender and a baseball game.
I was telling her my story,
She winked and said, “Oh boy”,
“I knew those girls liked you, or Rosie’s not my name.”
But I said, “That’s just the thing,
“It was the one with a ding-a-ling”;
We laughed so hard, you’d think we were insane.
When I got home to my wife,
The best friend in my entire life;
I told my story, but she found it kind of lame.
The one thing that this taught me,
Is that there really is a divinity;
My continued monogamy, answered prayers share the blame.
I can vividly recall the moment it occurred.
I can recite in my mind each particular word.
We were hanging around by the locker room door,
to congratulate the team for winning once more.
It was a tournament game with a large rowdy crowd.
The fans had been cheering especially loud.
Caught up in excitement for a moment or two,
I reveled in victory with friends that I knew.
Then suddenly I realized my hands dangled free.
He was no longer there, anywhere I could see.
I looked all around and called out his name.
I sternly demanded, “Stop playing this game!”
I searched through the building, raced down the hall.
I heard no response to my heart-wrenching call.
I ran through the gym, then out past the gates.
I fought off the fears of unthinkable fates.
Panic ensued as I questioned everyone.
“Have you seen my boy? Have you seen my son?”
I tried to hold back but the thought entered in,
what if I never get to see him again?
My anguish was causing my body to shake,
as thoughts turned to desperate measures to take.
A feeling I’d never confronted before,
I fell to my knees, right there on the floor.
I yelled out, “God please, don’t take him away!”
Tears filled my eyes as I knelt there to pray.
That’s when I saw him come running down the hall.
Every possible emotion, I’d been through them all.
An answer to prayer on his jubilant face.
He jumped in my arms, a welcomed embrace!
“Dad, what’s the matter? I said I’d be back.
Grandpa was showing me his new Cadillac.”
I still don’t remember him telling me that.
But, I’ll never forget what I had to combat.
The thing that I learned from facing my fear,
was don’t take for granted he’ll always be here.
in the absence of justice
you drop to your knees
& you close your eyes
looking for something
somewhere
else
which you believe can do the
work for you---
you run in your mind to another
place,
which you believe exists even though
you have never actually found proof
& no one you know
has ever found such a place
or testified to its existence
without standing in that same
dumbfounded
lack of evidence &
lack of substance---
still,
with your eyes closed
you want vengeance---
whatever has been done wrong to you
whatever you cannot deal with or
defend yourself against,
you feel that
something
else
should---
and so you concentrate
(so much energy that could be spent
in so many other more
productive
ways) & you want with all of your
heart
to believe that in due time
justice will come to you
because of your faith in a process
whereby you ask,
and you receive something from an
imagined force
which only you know as intimate as
you believe that you do---
& in the absence of what you believe to be
right in your actual life,
you hope with every thought
in your daily routine
retracing every mental step
(in wonder if you “jinxed” your own prayer by
“misbehaving,” or “acting incorrectly” thereafter)
in some kind of mad
schizo-struggle
opposing yourself &
supporting yourself &
congratulating yourself &
condemning yourself---
all for the sake of something that someone else told you
during your upbringing or
worse yet,
something that you ran to
when you felt that you were
left with no alternatives in your later years
even though
you
&
i
both know
that you did not take the time to consider all your options.
good luck with that.
Form:
Ya know like any other Christian I go thru
my hardships & troubles and I start to question
this tug of war, this spiritual warfare of right & wrong
it's the same old song wit me, I give my all
and from the one I give my all too I don't
even get half. I wonder how many couples
can say imma livin testimony to what you
going thru thats actually happily married
and made it last, I'm tryna hold fast wit prayer
but this woman is nothing but a cake and with
each layer follows more deceit not many good men
know their worth but I do, I be damned If I put
up wit a cheating spouse the game of cat & mouse
been ova and now I gotta keep looking ova my shoulder
because I can't trust her. How am I suppose to make it
thru da storm when I can't even stand on my own two
my outside image says I'm cool but on da inside
there lies a man unconscious in a pool of blood from
his broken heart. What did I do wrong to deserve this fate.
I repent my sins, pray, stay honest, don't cheat, then I start
to think does this really have anything to do wit me. I mean
Job was one of God's beloved servants and he was taking
thru da test, Lord God I'm not tryna say I can't handle it
I know marriage ain't easy but why is it this hard, I'm not
arguing with your will or decision making skills because
despite it all everything works for the good of God
We return at nightfall, shoulders bowed, weighed down by slights and insults. They
fall from us at the door,
as everything beyond these walls recedes. The horns and sirens, the pain and
desperation that invade our outside life,
all are silenced.
We join each other and sit, and rise and sit, in unison. Then cleansed, we bow our
heads
letting love seep over the table until even the most humble
foods-- the potatoes, the salt--feel shy and deeply cherished.
When the meal ends, we find that we are pulled apart strand by strand, that the
walls and floor are as deeply connected
as our arms and legs. The elements have to weave
and reweave as we move from room to room, sitting down in one
or walking out of another. We connect almost as fluidly,
bashful
as strangers, Couteous, we pass in the hallways without touching;
we close each door with the faintest sound; we say please
and thank you and God bless you again and again, as though the act
of sneezing were a form prayer and we were only answering
in kind. In silence, we perform the ritual ablutions, as we always
have; bathing in the dim sunlight of the morning
washing our faces
as we undress for bed. And in the end we lift the quilts and find
each other there, waiting. every breath reverent,
every touch of skin a testament.
Dad is a man of God.
Dad is a protector.
Dad is a provider.
This is the way some people see dad. But looking back on my life as dad I see that
dad is much more.
Dad is a booster seat and a comfortable chair.
Dad is a warm blanket that holds you tight and makes you feel safe.
Dad is a repair man who knows just the right way to put your toys together and fix
them when they break.
Dad is a comedian who can always make you laugh and instantly turns into a tickle
monster just when you need one.
Dad is a combination madd scientist and cook, whose experiments don’t always turn
out right, but are always fun .
Dad is an animal doctor who works miracles with a prayer and a bottle of
peroxide.
Dad is a source of life’s wisdom except when it comes to algebra.
Dad is a captivated audience when you put on your big shows and he’s always your
biggest fan.
Dad is a quiet man when he’s thinking really hard.
Dad is a loud man when he is sleeping real hard.
Dad is a friend who loves us and a teacher who guides us.
But most of all…
Dad is human and he makes mistakes and he understands that we make mistakes
to.
Life on Purpose Live it before you lose it! ©2009
The headlights shown into the bedroom
as he pulled into the driveway.
The alarm clock turns to one
and she tugs the blanket under her chin.
A quiet prayer falls from her lips.
The back door closes loudly as he stumbles in,
heavy footsteps fill the air.
Eyes tightly closed she wishes
That he will just fall into his lazy-boy.
A ridiculous wish since that never happens.
Light streams in from the hallway,
his slurred words penetrate her skin.
She rolls over slowly and gives him
a weak smile as he takes off his boots.
Maybe tonight will be different, Please God.
He falls into bed and pulls her close.
A hard kiss lands on her mouth.
She turns back, that was the mistake.
Before she knows it, she’s on the floor.
A foot to her stomach, a fist to her face;
at least this time his boots were off.
She stifles a cry so the kids don’t know.
He never says a word,
the blows always spoke louder.
Finally it’s over but she stays on the floor.
After a while she hears a bottle opened
and the TV turned on.
She crawls into bed and lets a single tear
fall from her eye.
Maybe tomorrow will be different
She just has to be better.
Everything Isn't What It Seems-
What's It Gonna Be?
People come and go
Some fake and you know
things never stay the same
If you fall for anything but God's work, it's a shame
Just cause' you see them in church every Sunday
Doesn't mean they're right within
Why fit in when you can stand out with him?
Put him in your circle
and see how much attention you get then
walk right instead of left
conversate with him and be blessed...
oh, you like to talk about people behind their backs?
Then read his word, and pass on the facts...
he won't lie nor submit to "Club Life Magazine"
But if you walk with him
He'll fulfill your dreams
never forsaking him,
always forgiving you
Through trials and tribulations
still staying true
don't be scared to pray
cause' prayer changes everything
you think prayer can't pay your bills,
Take a closer look...
You'd be surprised what can happen under God's will
Subscribe to "God's Word" now and be blessed
Cause' everything isn't what it seems;
What's it gonna be?
By: Aleasha A. Martin
People think I am a freak
Wondering what chaos I shall wreak
Seeing me they want to gag
Just cos I am dressed in rag
Shamelessly begging for alms
Cupping my blistered palms
Destitute, I have no home
Throughout the day I roam
Western, central and harbor line
But when I board people whine
I sit there staring at passing sights
Sunset, sunrise and dim street lights
Mountains, bridges, concrete jungles
Pass by, as a prayer my lip burbles
Alone I look for a place to rest and sleep
Full with crowds and fests, slowly my feet creep
Full of suspicion, characteristic dereliction
Life has been nothing but a malediction
Tirade and anger seething in every heart
Almighty resides in the fancy trinket mart
Going gets tough but seldom do I look askance
Survival is my goal, paltry is my chance
Don’t know where I started
My life seems thwarted
Don’t know where this would end
Striving for a livelihood, I defend
No I am not a propitious reveler
Rather just a footboard traveler
Form: