Long Like minded Poems
Long Like minded Poems. Below are the most popular long Like minded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Like minded poems by poem length and keyword.
"I shall be like a tree,
planted by the rivers of water,
to bring forth fruit in season,
my leaves shall not wither;
and whatever I do will be good."
Psalm 1:3 (in my words)
My thoughts are a magnet reflecting . . .
my thinking has wings . . . an innate magnetic signal
feelings of grace and gratitude brings me infinite power
it is the law of attraction
positive images I hold within are my strength
for good attracts good
~ I pour out my treasure of knowledge like gold
and wisdom like silver . . . I give it freely
to lead you from a path of darkness ~
remove the chains from around your neck
the anguish and negativity holding you
from a happy path of life
keep mercy and truth in your heart
for the like-minded to find
~ the butterfly is my spirit animal
so, I welcome change and wear a crown of peace
I pick up my pen to write excellent things ~
I speak words like ruby treasures
turn away from pride, arrogance and evil
will not become the prey of hunters
truth is a lamp . . . hate only brings bitterness
what I say or write is not governed by others
let good be your magnet . . . let magnetism captivate
send good thoughts . . . and they will come back
a hundred times strong
~ think good thougths and you will not cry at the gate
of heaven . . . the gate will open wide
find the tree of life and the path to gratitude and love
and your steps will not stumble ever . . .
. . . and your sleep will be sweet ~
____________________
October 21, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/the ornament of grace
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1496-007-21
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Posted to Facebook 10/28/2022
Written for the Premiere contest, Our Innate Magnetism
sponsor, Unseeking Seeker, Judged 10/27/2022
First Place (Trophy win)
In the year Two Thousand Fifteen all on a sudden
I chanced to visit poetry-soup garden.
Mathematics is my study stream
Literature is my fantasy dream.
Both fields have brought admiration.
I enjoyed creation cum recreation.
That was the first time to explore English poetry
leaving aside fiction, essay, calculus and geometry.
My first poem was born : To poetry world I got entry.
In the last sector of my life- zone I invent
this new field. I wish to cultivate.
Poetry soup has bestowed me access
for like- minded personality to assess.
I really value and always appreciate
novel idea and theme of any contest.
I am eager to follow each and every comment.
Poetry soup is my exciting entertainment.
In English poetry world, I must admit :
In contests it's tough for me to compete,
as English is my Second Language to explore
Yet my 'limited vocabulary' : I just ignore.
I’m regular to follow poetry soup.
I feel honored as a member of this group.
What is a "gloatsmere"
one would ask as we thought
she created the term.
But she described it as fudgelling and
Positioning oneself to be seen as more
available.
We asked her use it in a phrase., so
she did.Waking at 4:00, she dressed
and went out to the dining area seeming busy
so that someone familiar would see her
and ask her to be current company. A word
to describe a mild friendship between
neighbors and like minded people..
Though one would seem
he was the weakest member
of the weight lifting team , due
to his size: he proved
to be one of
the most valuable member in
the absure feats that
defined him as best.
Because she saw seen as callipygian being
fudgelled severed her well
as she often meet friends who
liked feeling familiar to her.
In full consideration and with respect
of those who viewed her as pompous she
would often be mindful of culture by wearing attire
that celebrated the occasions and the day.
Done without any regard to the opinions
and thoughts of others.
Written by
Lambada Pagode
"the UnderStudy Gal"
Heaven to each of us will be something different.
Artists will find paint brushes, easels, canvases, and glitter paint.
Musicians will discover instruments not invented yet on earth.
Scientists will land in a lab with like-minded white coats.
Romance writers will wake up to the fragrance of lilacs and roses.
Their pens will be quilled with the fluffiest feathers,
Their word processors will be voice activated
Illustrators will be creating the most sensuous book covers
Heaven will be filled with things children can touch.
They will gravitate toward each other, full of enthusiasm and mirth.
A carnival, zoo, museum, playground, and lots of cotton candy.
Bunches of relatives and friends ready to give them hugs and kisses.
TV loners will find themselves in a media room,
Each video screen showing whatever their mind hopes to see
They can spend hours in here, entertaining themselves
Food is not important, but they can choose popcorn if they like.
Each of us will have the things we need to entice us to want to stay.
If we want to take a peek at our loved ones, we can from time to time.
But after a bit we will be so delighted living our bliss and doing our work
We will stop all earthly visits, knowing we will see our loved ones soon enough.
Words on a page, sounds, Mother's calling
soft tones rose from leather tomes sweetly,
through rouged lips they tumble with love.
Lullabies call through the coldest of nights
as frost haloes about the curls, open-hearted,
eager, a child of contested love’s joining.
What would this chimera become now joined.
Oh what would be the result of this clarion call?
Angels wonder at the blend of unformed heart,
as words of Our Fathers resound so sweet
for the thrice kissed lips of child and overbearing night.
May all who come from the light delight in love.
May the child addressed bring comfort, bring love,
grow in service to the higher good and join
the wholesome hearts who warm the darkest night,
for bringing comfort, kindness, and caring is a calling,
which teaches every opened soul of sweetness
and heals the aching angry sores of forlorn hearts.
With words of joy, and a voice full of heart
let her hands touch, and sooth, each pain lovingly,
with the like-minded teachers and nurses sweetening
the balm smoothed upon the brow of man, enjoined
to heed the call, the ancient ever-present call
of majesty in morning and peaceful rest at night.
Each life presents its morning and ends in eternal night.
Each soul stores fonts of happiness and heartache.
Conception buds and blooms, sending out a clarion call
enjoining all who have the healing gift to garner love.
Gentle ones, who plant the seeds, tend the hearts join…
be the humble gardeners of the meek and sweet.
What task could be richer or path sweeter
than that of those who doctor, and nurse, and warm night?
Tender hearts and helping hands come together, join…
in the higher consciousness of he’s and she’s heartfelt.
Raise the banner; fly the unifying flag of healing love,
make this your onward path the Way, the Red Road your calling.
For what is sweeter day or night for each are joined,
heartily we love and live to heed these fine callings.
Love; this spiritual enlightenment.
How positive; to look past negatives.
Before, I knew not what forever meant.
Knowing now; passion that forever gives.
Like minded, I found fraud in many things.
Seemed; my every thought was already known.
The Reaper’s hymn played upon theses strings.
Pitiful, a King; without Queen at throne.
Beneath heavy ash; battling breath for breath.
It’s known, that flint lies quite before the spark.
When the last blow lands; you learn what is left.
It’s said, a mended bows still hits the mark.
Tried; the warriors who rejoice in pain…
It’s God’s own, you know; that dance in the rain-
We need to feel the cheer and inspiration of meeting
each other, we need to gain the courage and fresh life that comes from mingling of congenial souls of those working for the same ends
Quote by Josephine St Pierre Ruffin
Publisher and Journalist
We mingle with like minded people here
across this worldly spectrum we appear.
A melting pot of thoughts turned into words
each one unique, when passion has occurred.
Yes, writing is a solitary game
however when you think, we're all the same.
Our universal language when we write
when mixed together makes us all unite.
Therefore, we mingle in our hearts and mind
creative forces seen when we're combined.
We are our words when all is said and done
We bare our soul with each and everyone.
in the uncoloured tint of another everyday
amongst the spit polished waxed apples
tightly packed in burlap bags
they walked like minded
in their own burly wrap
oblivious to the irony
to their similarity
of the markets round red fruit
unaware of the tragedy
the horror of events yet to come
it will rain metal shrapnel
as human minds grasp
with the purpose of their existence
as in their ignorance
they understand their worth as human bombs
with a belief the heavens will open the gates
with a fanfare and a promised blessing
for their divine act of unquestioned belief
the clay shaped bricks
the black iron metal stairs
the drum sound of engines
then the lull
not after
but before
before
the pulse of the storm
the rain of death
yet this moment captured
this photograph
with man and child in hand
smells sweet
you wonder
bemused
why?
the world travels
aimlessly
singularly
no one
nothing in the universe
suggests
exposes
even a hint
even a glimpse
not a clue
that would lead
reveal
an answer.
life in its contradiction
like the proverbial apple
offers both
the miracle
the curse.
09/23/2014
How would I have any idea what I think, if I couldn’t read my own poetry?
When I sit to write poetry, my mind transforms the blank screen into a flurry of words and then sometimes a story that I had never heard before emerges.
The Hippy era in the 60's was rife with poets, and songwriters and public speakers all voicing their thoughts, their feelings, their dreams and their protests, and I was one of them. Through the life of a married woman, poetry was practically a forgotten art. Oh I still loved reading it and had a huge collection of poetry books by the greats, but rarely ever wrote a poem.
Then came a thing called COPD. Forced into retirement at 63, and within four years I was spending most of my time in a wheelchair. Little or no voice left, could only walk about 10 steps without gasping for breath.
Recently I found SOUP. I tried my hand at poetry again. Its become an obsession. It wasn’t only the poetry, it was the companionship of like minded people who were willing to encourage and praise others. Not working creates a doubt of self worth. Writing poetry restores that feeling. You can create something pleasurable for others. It’s a confidence booster. it’s a big part of my life now. I cant participate in activities, but I can write poetry.
I can sit by a lake or jump from a plane or climb a mountain, all from the safety of my wheelchair. I can fill a sleepless night by creating or just chatting to a mate. It feels like I am still alive.
Conscientia
Moral consciousness, penned by Cicero
State of understanding and realizing changes are inevitable
if we are to evolve spiritually and humanitarianism.
Let us work toward a greater good
Utilizing our introspection, imagination and self-awareness
Seeking empathetic paths to uplift and uphold others.
Let us open our minds to new patterns of thinking
Switching our perceptions to include appreciation for others
Uniting the world in like-minded activities of charity and compassion
Recognizing our beta waves are able to thought-switch
We can promote positivity, avoiding negativity and fear.
Written 4-28-2023
Contest: Refining Consciousness
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker