Long Lift Poems
Long Lift Poems. Below are the most popular long Lift by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lift poems by poem length and keyword.
Security. Health. Dignity. Life.
Nothing remains, only strife.
Lost, robbed, taken with force;
Cruel, wanton, with no remorse;
Reason, logic, sense cannot dispel;
Offering only, a glimpse of Hell.
No true God, can allow such evil to exist,
Spewing injustice, with an unrelenting fist.
We must be on our own, without a god,
We whisper with, an affirming nod.
Bad is evil; good is love.
Our feeble wisdom, tells us of above.
The One who was, is, and always will be,
Sees things differently, than forever will we.
If we were all knowing, we would understand,
Infinite blessing is given, with an open hand.
Evil and love, products of free choice.
In action, in thoughts, even in voice.
Labels of earthly bad is included in this.
Oft, our thoughts here create the abyss.
Growth and faith strengthen with pain,
Bringing forth wisdom, and heavenly reign.
Blood, sweat, tears outpoured,
Lift us higher than heights, ever soared.
We pray we could know, what we will truly know then.
Until our death comes, we share the fate of all men.
I starve myself.
When saying it out loud it sounds surreal,
But it’s the only way I can feel.
I am not worthy of food.
It is not worth the weight.
Fore I see myself by what I have ate.
Starving is like slowing dying.
Numb, and invisible to what others can see.
Funny how food could be the death of me.
I don’t have the body to match.
And I fear I will always see myself as fat.
You can tell just by looking at me I eat plenty.
My solution being to not eat, to be empty.
The air that fills my lungs now fills my stomach.
But my head fills with words of others,
“You’re too big.” “You should lose some weight.”
These are the words that keeps me up late.
People don’t know how much one sentence can affect me.
Why couldn’t of they just let me be.
Maybe then I would be able to be just a kid.
Maybe I wouldn’t see myself as big.
Sometimes I make myself throw up while sitting on the bathroom floor.
It makes my teeth rotten and my throat sore.
Nothing I do works though.
I am still as big as I was when I look behind at my shadow.
I see all these ‘skinny model girls’ on tv,
And oh god I wish that was me.
Why can’t I just be thinner.
And what makes it worse is the mirror,
Every-time I will lift my jumper and turn to the side,
All I see is how I’ve doubled in size.
I feel disgusted with how I see myself in the reflection.
If I could just redesign each section,
Every single aspect of myself I would inspect.
Every part of my body I would select and perfect.
What I wouldn’t do for a perfect body.
If I could trade my last shaky breath for the body I have dreamt of my whole life,
Maybe then I would love my body, only in the afterlife.
I starve myself,
Yes that’s true.
But it doesn’t have to be for you.
I know you’ve heard this 100 times,
But please eat, and no, not just sometimes.
Food is your fuel.
No body of yours should be treated this cruel.
So go eat a burger, some ice cream and a donut or two.
Food will not be the death of you.
Each day I trudge
Through thoughts and care
But barely notice
What is there..
Those moments hidden
In the dust
Of life's travails
And human rust
Beyond myself
I need to be
More present to
Infinity
And sense the wonder
Of the stars
Of blades and flowers
Of morning bars
Of dancing clouds,
The scented mist
Of morning stillness
Freshly kissed.
Of precious moments
Passing by
Like hues of Autumn
Or Wintery sky
The spider's web;
That dewy net
Reminds me
That I can't forget..
My time is precious
And every part
Designed to lift the
Sullen heart
From lowest valley
To mountain height
A secret hidden
In plain sight..
That truth revealed
To they who stand
And quietly wait
With open hand.
For greater has no man
Than this..
To see the blessed
Creator's kiss.
From early in life
She longs for the day to marry
to become united in one
searching out all who pass by
She strives to look Her best
throughout each day
being careful not to encounter stains
on Her dress She longs to wear
while in time it gets dirty
slowly taking over the white
detergent can no longer control
this world will make an attempt
to make it impossible for Her to find Her mate
For She might see all hope is gone
and wander this life in distress
as many, She has seen in tradition do
therefore She stumbles around in the crowd
for the veil over Her eyes
blocks out the light
She cries out for Her mate
One which can lift the veil
The bridegroom comes to Her call
She calls Him Jesus
He was able to wash Her dress
to remove every stain
when nothing else would work
She stands there glowing in white
As Jesus pulls up the veil
Her eyes light up to a new day
bringing forth a new creation
of love not from this world She had known
In leaving this earthy father
uniting with Jesus
walking down the path
to learn of Her heavenly father
Form:
Prayer of The Bubble
Oh please don’t break please don’t break please don’t break!
I’m afraid of heights and children with bubble blowers
My thin exterior just won’t take it
And now I’m floating over oceans
Out of sight
In obvious pain and slow motion
It makes me sick!
I’m drifting into France
A simple fragile bubble with no chance
I’m sure they’ll shoot me down
As a terrorist or worse…a clown
The Eiffel Tower and its tip are just ahead
It’s going to stick me!
I’m sure I’ll pop
I’ll certainly be dead
If I had a wish just one wish only
I’d wish for thickness like a rock
To drop on children on the spot
I pray to God to lift me up and keep me safe
To bubble heaven a pop free place
The grasshoppers leap up with every step
through the mess of forbs and grass at my feet,
some thornier branches scratch at my boots,
ticks frown when they see my blue, denim pants,
they’ll have to go elsewhere for their dinner.
The mountain-bike trails are not open yet,
wide slopes are silent, save bird-song and bugs,
splashes of color, mostly yellow, abound,
flowers feed bees on their endless patrols,
the deer love new growth, but flee midday sun.
I feel it, on my back, on my neck, close,
the big hat shields the face, but I still sweat,
almost like I’m hiking in the prairie,
but no trees also means such awesome views,
usually I see them frosted in snow.
Above, on the ski lift, the chairs do hang
like metal ghosts, haunted by the spirits
of families that rode them months ago,
their towers silent, steel sentinels; tall…
remember to get clear if there’s lightning.
My thighs don’t hurt, no, it’s all in my calves,
different muscles from a normal trail hike,
I’ve drank too much water, but I make it,
cooler air of altitude braces me,
green New England rolls out before my eyes…
Music in worship
As children of God, a chosen few,
We’re called to be faithful in all that we do;
Peculiar in spirit, in word and in song,
Reflecting His truth where we each belong.
Our music and praise must honour His name,
Not lifting self or glorifying fame;
No message or doctrine should lead us astray,
But echo God’s truth in each note that we play.
“How shall we sing in a far, foreign land?”
The cry of God’s people we still understand;
Yet even in exile, our voices must rise,
In worship unbroken that reaches the skies.
For music to God is far more than sound,
It’s a sacred expression where grace is found;
A channel of blessing, both tender and strong,
Drawing hearts closer where they belong.
In Scripture, we see both the right and the wrong,
The power that dwells in the gift of a song;
When David was welcomed, when victories came,
Music proclaimed God’s holy name.
Yet plains once echoed a different command,
Where many bowed down at a ruler’s demand;
A reminder that sound can lead hearts astray,
When worship is stolen, and truth fades away.
For worship belongs to our Maker above,
The Author of life and the Giver of love;
Yet still the deceiver desires that place,
To capture devotion that’s meant for God’s grace.
So not every melody honours the King,
Not all that is played is a righteous offering;
Let every instrument, lyric, and voice
Reflect heaven’s purpose, His will, and His choice.
Let singers walk humbly, made holy within,
Called by His name, set apart from all sin;
Obedient, guided by Spirit divine,
Let their lives be the message their songs underline.
So lift a new song, both faithful and true,
A melody heaven itself would renew;
Let all that we offer—each note and each chord—
Bring glory andhonourr to Christ our Lord.
We were made for more than just to live and let LIVE.
We were designed and engineered by a Grand Master.
As He gave Himself to us, so He wishes that we likewise GIVE.
Only eternity knows what lasting fruit that would yield and Foster.
I marvel at such who dares to withhold themselves and their GIFT.
Some never comprehend that their Master endowed them with a Trust.
They are entrusted with treasures for the purpose of enriching, to LIFT;
Not merely for creature comforts or to bequest to others for a family Fuss.
And I also marvel at those who are willing, at The Master's call, to give it ALL.
Some by behest of their Master become renowned and acknowledged Heroes.
It's enough to make many short ones feel like they are standing 10 feet TALL.
On the other hand, there are the no-name ones with minor scenes and Rolls.
These are special also, required to live in the shadows, but no less chosen.
080721PSCtest, A Brain Strand 4 To 14 Line Poetry Contest, Brain Strand
I find waking up a challenging, time consuming chore
As I rather enjoy cavorting with kings, queens and wanton whores.
I admit I’m drawn to royalty and “Riff-raff” now and then
Even Jesus used to hang around with the likes of us and them.
And lest we forget the policeman, painter, banker, barber, chef,
Dancer, dentist, executive, high-roller placing bets.
The carpenter, mayor, fisherman, flute player, handyman,
Everyone has something to share from their mind, head, heart and hands.
From deep within our bones and cells there’s more than we discern
No matter what our titles are, we live, we love, we yearn.
For mystical connections and distant, sights and sounds:
Outside of time, we stretch our minds to things sublime, profound…
As we gaze upon the sunset skies of pastel colored hues
And watch daffodils and dahlias bloom in the early morning dew.
We listen to the music played of Brahms, Chopin and Bach,
While mesmerized before our eyes watch chickadees, cranes and hawks.
We write songs and stories of love, hate, glory and paint on cathedral ceilings,
Put men up in space and find time to face the depths of emotions we’re feeling.
We study our past and things that last like pyramids, hieroglyphs and tombs,
Solve problems galore and puzzles by the score, and splash on sweet perfumes.
We write sonnets and prose, tie ribbons and bows on little girls and gifts,
And sail ships across oceans and pray with devotion to unseen forces that lift.
Our hearts and souls from out of the cold and up into warmer climes,
Where forgiveness, grace and virtue replace the beast within the mind.
We strive to achieve, work, sweat and bleed to move up the human ladder
One step at a time, imperceptibly climb towards things that matter.
As evening strolls ‘round we start to slow down into that inner, quiescent place,
Where we head for those lands beyond earthly plans, fading gently without a trace.
And when the sun arrives before our eyes awaking is a challenging chore
And yet I do so gratefully with two feet upon the floor.
11/25/2014
The Mirror
There is something in this universe that shows us things exactly for what they are.
Some things we desperately want to change and some people are content with it all.
The mirror never lies and sometimes it is the enemy you never knew you had….
The mirror.
You take your hand and slowly lift it up to the dirty disheveled mirror in your bedroom.
Your fingertips glaze the surface and leave a clean reminisce in the dust.
Tears roll down your cheek as it is almost too disheartening to see the reflection.
You are tired.
You are unkept from depression.
Things that should be every day routine, are now more like chores.
Why?
Why cant you change what you see?
It is one constant that will never change.
The mirror never lies.
How? How can the one thing that is truthful in your life bring you so much sadness?
The mirror.
You turn from your reflection and fall the floor.
You are on your knees, head in your hands.
You cry out to whoever will listen.
You pause.
Silence.
You pick your head up.
You turn back and walk toward the mirror.
You push back the tears that well up in your eyes.
You calm your mind and think to yourself momentarily.
There is also another constant, and its one you always shined a negative light on.
Why do you hate what you see?
The words of others possibly?
Or was it just you seeing yourself in the worst way possible?
Not knowing how to make amends with the person staring back at you.
You look away and place your left hand on your right shoulder.
“Seems as though you love yourself more than you think you do.
So next time you look in the mirror and don’t like what you see,
Don’t be so hard on yourself.
Because at the end of the day, the only person you truly can rely on,
Is ME.”
So today you can make a vow to uphold.
Don’t hate the reflection because it isn’t perfect.
You are a work in progress.
Growing mentally stronger with each hardship you overcome and sometimes don’t overcome.
Don’t be afraid to put yourself first.
Being selfish is scary but being too selfless is deadly.
The mirror never lies.