Long Lives Poems
Long Lives Poems. Below are the most popular long Lives by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lives poems by poem length and keyword.
IN SHORT, WE ARE HERE, NOT TO:
Pollute the air, water, and ground,
Abuse mankind or any life form,
Enrich and weaponize the few in
order to dominate the masses.
IN SHORT, WE ARE HERE BECAUSE:
God has a plan.
God has a purpose.
God has a process.
In spite of the failure
of Adam and Eve, God continues to implement
His Purpose. The authorization that was given to
Adam and Eve by God to TEND and to RULE the earth
did not change because of the sin of Adam and Eve.
We do not know to what extent we are responsible for
'What we do not know, but we are very responsible for
the things that we do know. We get only one life-span
to achieve the purposes assigned to us. We must therefore
tend and rule responsibly and well, fostering the best possible
existence in a fallen world, because we are being held responsible
for what we know of God's purpose for our lives.
God has well-equipped mankind for the task he commands. It is
only when we allow hate and greed to dominate our hearts and
minds that it becomes impossible to implement God's plans and
purposes. Such purposes are for our good, and God knows best.
O zenith, at the apex.
What lives within thy zone?
Zodiac, thy spell is hex!
Zero at the Bone!
Narrow fellow? Let's be mellow.
Mine and thine machine.
No use saying sweet hello?
Yellow, mix with green.
O anaconda empire!
In swampland, what to dread?
Circumstances! Guns for hire!
Butter without bread!
Flame immortal, writhe within!
Blanch my dreams, O Sin!
Deadly venom, scour my skin!
Vicious fight to win!
Lord of greatest house, titmouse?
Ran right up her blouse?
O for those who gasoline douse!
Sycophant and souse!
Young sir, who ought we deter?
Real world, fade to blur.
Mongrel, pedigrees. O cur:
Life goes in a whir.
Hummingbird, wings. O hornet, stings.
Sorcerer, thy rings.
Never mind nefarious things?
Nature's ding-a-lings.
Proofs for equations, elk? Eel?
Antelope, hope. Seal:
What to buy and what to steal?
Gods of death, thy deal...
who said the past is, therefore, to be forgotten?
and is that why a tiny water bubble goes with
rushing water in a vast expanse?
dew born in one early morning on a petal of a lonely flower
in the glen, goes with dawning sunlight riding on the waves,
wishing to be reincarnated dew forms on a lonely flower
that stands by an edge of water as the welling tears of a longing heart
since dew doesn’t have its own way to come and go as it would,
the course of waves carrying the dew may be the way for wayless dew
flowing with water, while thinking, that it may be
a destiny of a dew that born in early morning,
the dew lived yesterday beaten by rocks,
lives today lying on the depth of basin floor,
anticipates something unknown, but entirely different
than today for tomorrow, going with a drifting cloud
the grudges must have buried in yesterday,
and, therefore, should be forgotten by now,
still remain in a void of heart as today
and tortures the tiny dew though the dew has been beaten by rocks,
shoved by the surging waters, washed away by the rapid currents
and when this unbearably painful today piles up higher and higher,
it becomes the soundless cry the wail without a sound
from the floor of depths of the water;
on the other hand, after it went with many clouds,
after it walked with lots of stars, the memories to be cherished
and kept forever in the heart of a lonely dew, burned and became
ashes for a long ago until renewed early in the morning sunlight
then, where did the ashes go?
blown by a tomorrow’s wind, it vanished
perhaps, that’s why, the tiny water bubble has to be a sad
and lonely tiny water bubble forever
maybe, that’s why,
the timid and frail dew
born in early morning on a petal of a lonely flower
can never be great water, but remains lonely dew
that is to perish under brilliant, nevertheless, cruel sun
Though time tested and weary worn,
We remain steadfast in the perilous journey.
You cannot beat us down with you scorn;
Nor destroy us with hate and abject illegality.
In the hour of darkness and the gloom of day,
The struggle will continue and shall never cease.
Liberation is a process allowing nothing to get in its way;
The table has turned; the shorn no longer fears the beast.
The story has already been told; we’re children of the Exodus;
Over the desert and across the sea floor, our feet have gone.
There is nothing in your narrow-mindedness that can stop us;
No shootings or bombings can prevent the dream reaching home.
Many beautiful lives we have lost; but not our sacred hope;
And what once was despair, is now just a simple footnote.
When I saw my child that day
my spirit was broken down
My heart and thoughts could not stray
from those parents in Newtown
How will they ever still live
after their lives were shattered
My life, for them, I would give
to save theirs being tattered
Such innocent lives taken
so early before their time
Twenty-six families shaken
by a sick and senseless crime
I can't imagine their pain
vanquish it all if I could
If only to make it wane
show them the world does have good
I can offer only verse
my prayers and of course my heart
Simple things that may not nurse
all I can do as a start
As I pen these words, I tear
and hope for many kind acts
To help them quell every fear
know some have what the world lacks:
Compassion
Our mind is capable of passing beyond
the dividing line we have drawn for it.
Beyond the pairs of opposites, of which
the world consists - other, new insights
begin." --Herman Hesse, on Thought "
Controlled Fallacy
I could be an enchanted dragonfly,
the one, in a child's storybook
that lets fairies,
full of magic ride on its back.
I could turn into the wicked dragon
that lurks
in all the kingdoms and fiefdoms
or the brave knight
that rescues the poor distressed damsel;
the one who lives happily ever after,
thereafter or,
I could be her private aspirations.
Her flight from passion before the rot sets in.
I could be her secret hideaway, where
she touches solitude with reverent fingers.
I could enter reality at this point
so focused that the dragonfly would tumble
into a shriveled heap,
or become a pauper, sitting
on a cold and wind blown, treeless street.
I could be a modern day Cinderella with
a pumpkin Rolls Royce
and stained glass slippers
or,the best friend of an
English Lord, or the maid who
every single morning
brings him his breakfast
of kippers.
But I don't want to be an
enchanted dragonfly.
I want to drive to some remote reality
in a real Rolls Royce
I want - I want controlled fallacy.
I want caviar- not kippers
I want a flowing negligee and
maribou-feathered high heel slides.
I want to be that enchanted princess
who touches solitude with
reverent fingers.
I want to be the smiling
sole, possessor
of a single, stained glass slipper
Suzanne Delaney
Fantasy Contest - Giorgio V
Assertive Letters
An Instant Recognition.
White border, white letters.
Red sign on a tall unnatural pole.
In charge of keeping us safe, unrecognized.
Brain applies feet before you realize
You are slowing down for a
Concrete stop.
On Auto
Pilot, No
Idea You
Were
Paying
Attention
Because
You
Weren’t.
I have saved
Your life once
Again. And
The lives of
Others.
Things would be better so we both thought
But then into the other lives we seemed to be caught
Promises, attitudes, and feelings surely would change
I know that wasn't what we planned to arrange
With differences in opinions and so much we didn't say
It really was for the best that someone walked away
Yes there is plenty that we'll miss and would so much like to see
But after trying things twice it just wasn't meant to be
That's not to say that Love wasn't there
But the same picture of life we could never share
One a giver of life and will put themselves out
The other a believer that tough times teach us just what life's about
Giving to others isn't bad or something that shouldn't be done
But the preexisting unit has to be #1
Nor is it about who's right or which one has to be wrong
More on being adults and trying to still get along
The choices we made even though we didn't agree
Bit us in the ass and that's plain to see
Fixing things before they finally fall apart
Is the only way to save the Love in Someone's heart
To fix things it's probably more then to late
It's hard not to look back and clean the whole slate
Because we're not together doesn't mean that we don't care
If we need a friend maybe the other will always be there
Hoping that from each other we could expect the same
It's a hell of a lot nicer then playing pass the blame
There so much more that we both want to say
But for now let's just take things by the day!
An Uncle Charlie Original
© 2010 unclecharlie
Form:
Excerpts from the Journal of Dorian Gray
by Michael R. Burch
(These are verified excerpts from Oscar Wilde's "Journal of Dorian Gray")
It was not so much dream, as error;
I lay and felt the creeping terror
of what I had become take hold . . .
The moon watched, silent, palest gold;
the picture by the mantle watched;
the clock upon the mantle talked,
in halting voice, of minute things . . .
Twelve strokes like lashes and their stings
scored anthems to my loneliness,
but I have dreamed of what is best,
and I have promised to be good . . .
Dismembered limbs in vats of wood,
foul acids, and a strangled cry!
I did not care, I watched him die . . .
Each lovely rose has thorns we miss;
they prick our lips, should we once kiss
their mangled limbs, or think to clasp
their violent beauty. Dream, aghast,
the flower of my loveliness,
this ageless face (for who could guess?),
and I will kiss you when I rise . . .
The patterns of our lives comprise
strange portraits. Mine, I fear,
proved dear indeed . . . Adieu!
The knife’s for you.
Keywords/Tags: Oscar Wilde, portrait, Dorian Gay, journal, ageless, face, youthful, unchanging, rose, thorns, prick, vat, acid, acids, dismembered limbs, violent beauty, knife, old, age, evil, beauty, youth, horror, gothic
Solely a soul-mate
that of a mother.
Caressing, cherishing,
every moment-
every couch thrown,
weeping eyes-
a cry out for help-
when you needed her most.
Never a memory-
the presence lives on
through you
and what you do-
what you've been doesn't justify
what you've learned and become now.
Take the flame,
keep it lit,
flickering-
like the light she fixed after your fist punctured it.
After she yelled and warned out of frustration,
but never infront of me.
Graciously giving her love to all who surrounded
Souls don't evaporate-
they merely find a home within their loved ones.
So as you dream of her;
think of her;
and miss her
just remember she's there,
though you can't hear her,
or see her,
she just wants the best for you.
She always has.