Long Locations Poems
Long Locations Poems. Below are the most popular long Locations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Locations poems by poem length and keyword.
Over the 2000 year period since the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, thousands of people have toured the 'Holy Sights' in Jerusalem and The Holy Land. One of those sights is a garden known as Gethsemane at the foot of or near the Mt. of Olives. However, the exact location of Gethsemane is not clearly known.*
The title question and theme is really not intended to be a search for the literal garden called Gethsemane, but rather the identity and whereabouts of our spiritual Gethsemene. We are not looking to locate the physical Gethsemane but rather to experience an encounter with God. The trip by Jesus and his apostles was taken rather often, but Let's imagine ourselves in the background looking in on the night that Jesus went into the Garden of Gethsemane accompanied by 11 of his 12 apostles. On that night, we would have clearly seen Gethsemane as:
A place of SANCTUARY where we seek stillness, peace, and quiet
A place of PRAYER where we meet with God and converse with Him
A place of WAITING where we obey His orders and move at His commands
A place of SLEEPING. Sleeping is not the purpose here and should be avoided
A place of TEMPTATION. "Pray, that you do not enter into temptation"
A place of SWEATING. Prayer is 'not a day in the park' but 'an engagement of warriors'. A place of AGONY and WARFARE where we engage, fight, endure, and never quit. A place of SERENITY. God gives us a 'free will' and asks us to 'surrender it freely'.
04052019PoSoupContest, Favorite Poem From Last Week (March 31-April 6, 2019) Poetry Contest, Lu Loo; Original Title, Where Is Gethsemane
*Wycliffe Bible Encyclopedia, "Gethsemane",p.675, 1975, ISBN 0-8024-9697-0 There are four[6] locations claimed to be the place where Jesus prayed on the night he was betrayed.
1. The Church of All Nations overlooking a garden with the "Rock of the Agony". 2. The location near the Tomb of the Virgin Mary to the north. 3. The Greek Orthodox location to the east. 4. The Russian Orthodox orchard, next to the Church of Maria Magdalene.
Modern scholarship acknowledges that the exact location of Gethsemane is unknown
she carries the child on tired hips rested on chains ‘round her waist
wasted on freedom designed to serve a white man’s lustful desire
branded inferior as time repeats itself and the pain knows no end
a tattoo on her skin confirms her as chattel in self-righteous shackles
festering wounds of Apartheid resemble the foul stench of humanity
as her child suckles from an empty breast and cries out for more
they did not really abandon slavery merely gave it a different name
too sweet are the rewards of exploiting the world as we know it
division of labour and they enshrined her firmly as an illiterate pawn
her soul wrapped in skin and bones and her eyes like rusted steel
an empty gaze almost gave up on merits of justice from hollow eyes
camped in concentration of power domination she is raped daily
of her dignity while she ploughs on in fields of plenty and the dust
of history and yet she never gives up on struggle for emancipation
some got the vote in a rigged system with dice slicing the fortune
disembowled by wolves in capital’s fangs her innermost treasure
has become hope that succumbs to memories of her forebears
born into poverty and meant to stay there she rattles her manacles
in vain in defeat because leg irons and handcuffs are made from
diamonds and gold in the heartland of theft and misappropriation
when her child dies she carries another from the master’s loins
expendable and forgotten her tears are salty and polish the gyves
and just maybe might help to corrode bilboes and unholy bonds
because human emotions do not forget who triggered the hurt
outcast in a so called homelands or locations she requires a pass
to enter the kingdom of opulence in which she serves as a maid
but the young maiden has become old and dies cleaning their dirt
a stolen life is all that her daughters will remember with hatred
and when they rise they too will die by the greed of their captors
but one day the tables will turn and revolve in anger and retribution
20th August 2020
‘Apartheid’ in South Africa was the system of racial discrimination
Workers needed a ‘passbook’ to enter rich suburbs for work
‘Homelands’ were the allocated regions where black people would live
Their abodes where called ‘locations’ to sweeten the tongue of evil
The Luckiest of Men
By Rick Rucker
I called on friends yesterday,
They asked if I was okay.
They had never seen me move so slow,
They thought my energy was low.
I assured them I was fine,
I had merely drunk the wine
Of Love, my countenance was pacific,
I have no known disease specific,
Save an enlarged Heart,
Filled with sweetness, as from a tart.
They thought my symptoms somewhat scary,
They began to realize that I was very
Much in Love, no longer had to push, and shove.
My Heart was peaceful as a Dove.
I used to be so tightly wound,
My feet seldom hit the ground.
I ran everywhere I traveled,
My mind seemed to have unraveled.
Suddenly, I can stand,
With another, hand in hand.
She has caused the change in me,
She let my tethered Heart fly free!
How could this have come to pass,
That she could save me from the Morass?
With a little that, and some this,
But mostly with a passionate kiss.
It was our second date,
We had eaten, it was late,
At my watch, I took a peek,
Leaned in then to kiss her cheek,
Then, much to my surprise,
She looked me in the eyes,
And kissed me with a buss so sweet,
That I could scarcely feel my feet!
I didn’t want her to leave,
My chest had begun to heave,
The night was cold, but we were not,
I couldn’t believe that one so hot
Would show, to me, such passion,
In the open, out of fashion!
Finally, she drove away,
But, I was forced to stay,
Firmly rooted to the ground,
My head still spinning all around.
I had been on first and second dates,
Sorting through potential mates,
First, the normal couple’s sparring,
Then, no more dates, and some scarring.
She was the only one,
To have done what she had done!
She had left, and I let her,
But I wanted to practice kissing, getting better.
As her lights faded away,
I knew I couldn’t wait a day
To have another chance
To see if we would find Romance!
Now, we have been out many times,
When we kiss, I hear chimes,
Our dating is now exclusive,
The locations, more reclusive.
I have asked her to be my Wife,
Share my place, share my life.
She is much smarter than me,
She answered that we will wait and see.
I will try to let her see,
How wonderful our life could be.
As I run it all through my head again,
I am sure the luckiest of men!
Lyrics start 0.05 - timed to the music
Pack your bags dear, there’s a Croc near
And he’s creeping, through the night
With his eye on - on our old stead dear
And it appears - we’re within his sight
You know when that Croc smiles - shows his teeth dear
Concrete jungles start to spread
Whips the grass from right under their feet dear
Scams now filling, each word he’s said
What no scruples you ask, well he ain’t got’em you should know
Seeks locations both, far and wide
Look he’s sneaking - sneaking down the alley
Is there no - place - left to hide
Another Archway, off the highway down the road
Golden handshakes, don’t go the mile
Men in black suits they make it all happen dear
Sanguine red soon, turns into bile
With our kids dear – it’s the buzz 'we gotta go'
Family meeting place, just come on down
Try these milk shakes - they're just like the real thing
And these burgers, the best in town
Bet you a fiver - oh that bun is barely fresh
Kids now falling sick - while their doctors frown
Green backs talking – they don’t give a nickel
Have our bags packed
‘Cause the Croc is
Look out Sneaky Croc is
Sneaky Croc’s back
Back in town
EPILOGUE
Oh these outlets they keep spreading far and wide
In a hurry, they just can’t wait
Food so tasty, don’t you wonder ‘bout it all
No time to ponder it’ll make you late
Good old family name – so familiar dear
Look out folks for, deceit and lies
Another archway - around the corner
Now that Croc is stopping by
Look out OLD Croc is back
Footnote:
On our recent visit to Japan I noticed the proliferation of Fast Food outlets. It is such a pity to see a country that was once so fastidious with their traditionally healthy diets and that of their kids, changing their lifestyle and falling prey to corporate fast food giants. Even the kids are now embracing this way of life.
It’s sad to see traditional food outlets also losing their livelihood as the trend takes over.
Acknowledgement:
My deepest appreciation to Chris Green on agreeing to spare some of his wonderful talent and collaborating with me to bring you this arrangement.
Thank you so much Chris.
Copyright © Maria Williams & Chris Green | 3 June 2017
Awaken to the of birds chirping; the sound of peace,
All strife has passed and all war has ceased...
A massive tension has been released
Every man, woman, and child out of the belly of the beast
And now they are at the dinner table, ready to feast
All enemies have deceased and that is a cause for celebration
People all over the world shouting, "Yes, we made it!"
On the streets there is no more chaos, everyone is flagrant
Everyone has patience and virtue there is no such thing as hatred
No one has to die because of the position in which they've been placed in
Everyone got along and every moment was sacred; no time wasted
Every teenager respected their curfew...
They could safely go to the beach during Spring Break vacation
Every teenager had a father that installed virtues; not just hatred
No child ever had to go through a storm of a
divorce case; it's not blatant
Caught up in the collateral damage; it has been erased
Every kid in school love one another and no on was disgraced
Because of their race, or the place that they stay in; equal locations
No kid starved while rappers are talkin' bout cars and ballin';
Every kid had parents that would hear them when they're calling
No kid every had to dive into a pit of despair because of the color of their
hair
Or the decision or the attraction to a same sex gender
Every single person in the world were kind and they cared
No murders occur on the surface of this turf; nobody was scared
Girls could wear whatever they wanted without feeling so bare
That kid over is not plotting to grab her by the hair; the epitome of fear
Never existed in the hearts of the parents
They don't have to worry about their kids being reckless
No worrying about, "how the hek did he get that neckless)
Every kid had a checklist that didn't consist of getting pregnant
No one had to stay wearing that hairnet because everyone had a return
on an investment
No need for government because everyone had good intentions
There was no need for police and people could smoke weed in the streets
Celebrating life no need for malicious greed
No gang bangers poppin' off on the cops and blockin' shots
With a mother of a twelve year old's body; no glocks...
I'm sorry that I went so long, I gotta a lot
to say and I use these songs
Down the fervent aeons Buddha’s sagesse,
casts its august shroud on benign witness,
shades, shadows, subtle symbol shift,
encompass cosmopolitan and temporal,
incongruous to flaccid predilection feigned,
astute statue of nuance and nicety,
crosses annual acme’s snowflake whirl,
Christmas that propitious seasonable fount,
amid the merriment and jubilation stirred,
can wry dispensation be somehow drowned,
sculpted mould epitomising solemn pearls,
to counter spartan sparkle an uneven match,
for the blissful bubble oft recurrent judder,
though evaluation oscillates on this thorny subject,
palatial gift as lavish token bountiful toward,
unswerving fellow pilgrims of our jagged journey,
despite the avalanche of advertiser’s counterfoil,
triumphant warm rush Burra Din advantage,
can engender migrating episodes deft mutual,
as the Buddha manifests a dovetail harmony,
strained coexistence with December frolic
in the most enshrined but unforeseen locations,
where Buddha influencer might drop wry hints,
juxtapose amidst jollied Christmas victuals,
where bear necessity bordering on martyrdom,
is gratuitously extolled in quaint quintessential quote,
that arrant caustic jibe at the apparently trivial,
the importance of recurring benchmark scope,
as that valid institution built on solid query,
might be seen as an awkward encroachment,
to the much pilloried fanfare of modern life,
changes are afoot when blind pursuit exhales,
has in zoom of instance been Buddha fostered,
if one probes forensically profound into the furore,
where future life burden is an exponential angst,
so abundant amid a sinister spiralling pessimism,
the seeds have been planted in a sprouting urn,
for above the shoulder carry torch consciousness,
a synchronous embryonic Buddha ethos at the core,
one is cognisant of this in zealous online sweeps,
where a budding spirit Christmas mosaic adjunct,
is a Buddhaesque nod on foot of wellness kinship
to concatenate shrouded inkling o’er enduring quest,
on the universal isthmus of humanity plagued by panacea,
one suspends as Buddha meets Christmas on a jubilant,
December day exuding generous exchange across the globe,
it’s a down the centuries dilemma entangled in time,
The question has to be this. Is a meow a cow?
Q1…...................A Catalogue?
Well what can one say?
Really all that?
How can I possibly make it under the word count?
So many pages and items itemised mean that descriptions decipher coded callings
Well presumabley it would begin with an attempt to identify the word catalogue
So begin by pulling the word out in a concertinaed fashion
And that make what?
Cat a log
Always ignore and be very ignorant of a U and and E for a U and an E together are simply way too much of a headache and a sight to understand
Particularly if attempting a headstand on top of a big wheel at a fun fair
So a cat on a log could have many pages:
i. A large head. This page is filled with many items including fur and eyes and comes with free ears as a special introductory offer
ii. Paw page. Claws are optional although customers can opt to buy retractable paws or paws that can pull out. The pull out paws are the most popular.
iii. This is the page of the upper body. So details several fur options. As with the fur options of page one it is possible to have log or short fur styles and colours are of all hue including rainbow coloured varieties.
iv. This is the middle section where customers can choose from a selection of sizes depending upon availability. And of course fur selection. And a range of colours too.
v. This is the back end of the cat so customers can choose a tail. Sometimes it is possible to request no tail particularly if the customer is from the Island of Mann. There is an absence of a tail upon that isle. Again it is possible to select the type of fur. And of course colours.
vi. The final section is the type of log. A wide selection of trees are available. Plus it is possible for customers to create their own log from a tree using an app called 'treenamer'. This clever app offers a beautiful range of wood from worldwide and cosmological locations.
vii. This is the index page.
And so that is a catalogue explained.
It is far harder to outline
A catamaran
A cat o nine tails
A cat nap
A cat kin............and how many more times?
When a pin becomes a paw it is time for the scratch of the posts.
Z Otocolobus manul Z at 44 claws to 9 whiskers
X
Form:
Daylight fades, a city pulsates, and traffic is reflected in store windows.
Hurrying headlights come out of the darkness.
They crisscross like dueling knights. People in the crosswalk scamper
as if squirrels and streetlights leer gleaming yellow eyes, like watchful hawks.
The shrill trumpets of the charging gale force winds, rattle an awning,
and newly planted maple saplings bend and sway
in random pairs. Set in concrete planters, they hang on by tender rooted toes.
Pages of a discarded newspaper are hurled into the air,
buoyed on the steely breath of a frigid winter evening.
Several leaflets scatter into the street and down the sidewalk,
into the path of one lone pedestrian.
He slaps away the sports page, that flies into his chapped, red face.
Without hesitation, this castaway vagrant, down and out
by the rape of hard times, will accept an offered dime,
from a passing man in a Red Sox ball cap.
Head bent low, face hidden, a worn and dirty pea coat
pulled tightly around his thin frame, he carries all his meager belongings
in a large paper grocery bag, wrinkled and beginning to tear.
Serving as his satchel, the brown bag, damp and worn,
still displays big bold red and black letters
advertising "Smart and Final Grocery"--"Located in Three Convenient Locations".
A city bus roars by, splashing through three days of rain,
and a siren and a blaring horn is heard from the next block.
The dark silhouetted outcast, stops for a moment,
peers into a sidewalk trash receptacle, then continues slowly down the sidewalk.
A taxi pulls up along the curb behind him, and the attractive couple,
dressed in evening wear, emerge, pay for their taxi, and arm in arm,
enter Mario's Italian Restaurant, the brick bistro
that sits on the corner of Broadway and 1st.
It begins to rain again, and across the street people open umbrellas
and like the afore mentioned squirrels, they scurry home to supper.
The lone man walks in the rain, his pace doesn't quicken, his voice never spoken,
a spirit broken, ............ his sack held together by circumstance.
A passerby takes a brief glance...just a quick, chanced moment,
to take notice of "Smart and Final's" last stance.
My own world rocked,
My heart so rattled,,
My brain so shocked,
My ego so embattled
I left my wife,
When her heart was exposed
By her unfaithful ways,
The end of my married days...
Back to my parents home...
Within six weeks
My dear mother, she seeks
To leave this world of pain,
My father and I, hearts
torn apart to die
Felt the world's weight
crushing us
I knew my dad,
So long married glad
Would not survive this hurt
So I hatched a plan,
Clever as I thought I am
To keep us both alive
I created the "Military Club"
Hardly realizing that
it would be the hub,
Of more than I could hope
World War II veterans
My father and two uncles were
And I was a military buff
So we established this group
Hoping our lives to recoup
And it succeeded beyond
my wildest dreams,
Funny, is turned out to be,
Every bit as important as well, to me
Well I declared my father "The Colonel"
A title he held for the last
12 years of his life,
All the family members addressed
him by this name
My Uncles, I designated Majors,
They were Artie and Bob
I was a lowly Lieutenant,
To serve them was my job...
Once every 2 weeks we gathered
To shoot pool, play cards,
And then to eat
Our locations varied on a schedule
that was easy enough to meet
Now this became the life essence,
For these geriatric warriors of old,
And to me as well, though unexpected,
I had somehow struck a vein of gold
My car was the "Stafff Car"
I drove them to pool,
And to have some beer at the bar,
Didn't matter who's turn the
house was that week,
We always had the great fun
That we did seek,
Rosie's idea of 1993
was to make "The Colonel"
a memorial wall plaque,
Dedicated to his bravery
in the face of pool hustlers,
Taproom attendants, and
card sharks, and much, much more
I had never before seen
his eyes light up so proud,
This old man that I so adore
Well, even Generals succumb
to cancer
And sadly that was his fate
But I'm so proud to have
enriched all of our last years,
together,
My buddy, my military dad,
my father, and my
life's sailing mate.
*Image of Blues by Google.com.
Blue In Centerstage
Fondly, instants our measure of blue ... a boost or flat bring on,
Promptly, sea and sky are limelight ... point of view as quite concise,
Nonchalantly, unconcern and clamminess ... ranks are withdrawn,
*Fait accompli, preceding segments ... sway tactfully suffice.
Begets the 'ins' ... inspiration, intuition, intellect,
Pirouettes credence, responsibility ... and confidence,
Plaquettes of ... honorable awards, stellar ribbons select,
Assets of the unique bluish shades ... influence prominence.
Truly in hints of unswerving order ... peace, calm, and patience,
Cerulean surge deep relations ... o'er those superfluous,
Julian age casts peasant clothes ... purple made nobles complacence,
Herculean genders preferred hue ... business partners a plus.
Introspective chroma ... symbolize wisdom and conviction,
Defective draw sadness ... abysses of the human psyche,
Infective features ... induce fears, threats, and constant affliction,
Effective tint ... guides profound acumens by the almighty.
Cobalt animate ... ingenuity and enlightenment,
Pole vault reputations ... paint artisans treasured qualities,
Assault on nervous manner ... random acts disentitlement,
Exalt betterment ... magnify productive monopolies.
Cyan et al., ... are appetite and sleeplessness suppressants,
Point man merges the bluewashed value ... constant and unchanging,
Yes-man splashes ... versatile befits locations quintessence,
Wiseman choose ... blue on blue light-heartedness ever exchanging.
*Fait accompli: a thing accomplished
2021 November 04
*2nd Place*
BLUE
~~Mystic Rose Rose: Judged 2021 November 06