Long Losses Poems
Long Losses Poems. Below are the most popular long Losses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Losses poems by poem length and keyword.
stagnant water still
stale grief slithered shattering —
finch twitters be free
path a hundred deaths
shake chains raining draining blood ~
write novels free be
turgid losses drown
in insolence they waited …
wife escaped be free
break bones to reach cave
courage climbs steps and steeps __
weep not nights free be
rods crack cords unfurl
ten thousand miles in riddles ~
shed shackles be free
eat parrot’s peanuts
pantry is empty laugh loud …
observe pain free be
smoothly plane cuts through
staring at unwinding space —
judgement flies be free
time moves then stands still
doors bang on open escape ~
awareness free be
petals circular
align with Sun straight down spine …
eyes dazed be free
~::~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~::~
To God we offer thanks
for medicine and for carers,
for all who've kept in touch,
in prayer been burden sharers.
Through all the skills and gifts
by which you set us free
from scourges of disease
may we now thankful be.
In grief we still lament
the cost of many losses
in life and work and health,
with bearing all these crosses.
Not destitute of hope
in you our God we trust
as guide through days to come
in new life to adjust.
All praise to God of all
with whom we share this planet.
May we be one with them,
respecting every limit.
Each insect, beast or bird
from which disease derives –
we must respect their space
that we and they may thrive.
Dear Jesus you've been here
through times of isolation,
in us to hold real hope,
restoring motivation.
Then arms outstretched once more,
set free from all regrets,
we'll open wide the door
to welcome back our guests.
We meet again in joy
refreshed upon our journey.
As we move on from here
with Christ who shows us mercy,
there's much that we can learn
as we survive the test –
in prayer we can discern
how care is best expressed.
Each Season of Living
By Michelle Morris
29/09/2024
The wind picks up
Changes to the season
From Summer to Autumn
The raining of leaves
Gold and orange
Yellow and red
Release what's unneeded
Trees teach us this lesson
The temperatures fall
The Earth slows down her pace
We breathe in the crispness
Of clean air in open spaces
We take stock of our lives
We cuddle and rest
We humans need to slow down
To conserve our energy
In Winter things die
We experience endings
Nature teaches us to accept
Death is not the enemy
Snow and quiet
Stillness and peace
Purity in thoughts
In words and deeds
When Spring comes around
We're ready to bloom
To expand our lives
Our hearts and rooms
We welcome new life
We learn and we grow
We know what it feels like
To have Joy and to Glow
We embrace the shimmers
We accept the Universe's pace
We know we have Angels
To bless us with Heaven's Grace
All that Happiness
All those Memories
Zen-like focus on our Gifts
Moments of Peace
The contentment we feel
Emotions inspiring Light
For we are all Warriors
In the Quest for what's Right
For when Summer arrives
Our Harvest is revealed
The bounties from Nature
Blessings are yielded
These cycles continue
Our Earth turns again and again
For each year that passes
Brings us Wisdom and Grace
As we connect to the Earth
And embrace Nature each day
We'll gather moments of pleasure
And become at one with her ways
The gains and the losses
The twists and the turns
Every single creature
Has its moment to learn
A lifetime of authentic living
If we commit to our Path
For we are infinite Souls
And our knowledge is vast
We are all connected
And Nature knows best
God's eternal Wisdom
Guidance and Blessings
Know that you're special
Know that Nature needs you
As you always need Nature
To reveal Life's Truth
So when the wind picks up
And the storms come in
You're stronger and wiser
Each Season of Living
© Michelle Morris, 2024
Structure frames our lives
Absurdity debated
Proof lies beyond words
In the halls of thought where meanings cast aside
Sartre proclaims the universe a jest
Yet words his own become the threads he hides
Weaving structure from chaos: never clever
To say “life’s absurd,” then publish, reason and speak,
Requires a scaffold firm beneath each claim
Conviction breathes in every phrase we tweak
Absurdity masks yet rules remain the same
To exile The Holy Spirit or things unseen
By a simple denial is not complete
Deny eternity or the Divine Remains
By a corpse’s silence shows our losses not our gains
Assuming is not knowing so it seems
Let questions bloom and certainty give way
For meaning lingers deep within what we presuppose
Defying all the voices of dismay with “God knows!”
Post script:
Do you feel gipped because all the while
You assumed that the river in Egypt was denial
Were you taken in by Mr. Unger’s argument that’s been harried
Did you assume to exhume an argument that’s been dead and buried?
When you assume why can't you see
That you make an ass out of you and me
there's one car missing from the two car garage
one dinner plate from the table
is this the point where i give up
count the losses if i am able
there's one toothbrush missing from the bathroom
one pillow from the unmade bed
the only conversation that carries on
are the things we left unsaid
only one book on the nightstand
where the light remains off
i've cried as much as i can
but can you ever cry enough
there's one heart that's broken in this man made tomb
one glass that's always empty
with nothing here and nothing i can do
a promise kept all too well lately
there are two smiles missing from this one house
one fragrance that no longer lingers
i'm sure you've figured out by now
there's one person that misses you being here
Columns and Ranks (20140925)
Standing straight in columns and ranks,
Heads newly shaved by the barber,
Carrying guns loaded with blanks:
New recruits after Pearl Harbor.
The Generals inspected troops,
Standing straight in columns and ranks;
Afterwards they broke into groups,
And marched towards the ships’ gangplanks.
They boarded ships with guns and tanks
To England, the Atlantic crossed.
Standing straight in columns and ranks,
They’d free Europe at any cost.
Allied troops endured dire losses;
Gaining a foothold up the banks.
Heroes sleep beneath the crosses
Standing straight in columns and ranks.
Shut inside windows open w i d e
I age 1,000 years
To your one.
The Past turns in its light circles upon the Present,
Inscribing itself into memories
That will lend their textures to the future -
Pains and pleasures
Loves and losses
The bitter and the sweet -
All will fall together and become tomorrow,
Then break apart and cycle on again.
Outdoors, beyond a window full of November clouds
A child is running gaily past,
While up the street with ancient, measured tread
A crone approaches.
Youth and Age will pass and cycle 'round again.
I turn gray thoughts over in my mind
Composing poems as my significant others
Drift in and out of the rooms of my life,
Now babe Now child Now youth Now adult
Now gone
Friends and lovers help weave the warp together,
Light and shadow chase each other through the rooms,
Whispering the secrets of change.
When a plant
an organism
a biological system
is young,
this is nature's season
for segregation and simplification,
specialization.
Time to ego grow internally
toward full flowering
and re-seeding maturation.
Just so,
when a plant,
an ecosystemic planet,
an individual's lifetime,
a nation-state's cultural lifeline
reaches historic maturity,
mid-life crises of climates and landscapes reverse direction,
reverse patriarchal dominance
to patriot-matriotic ecobalancing isms,
so that what had been WinWin ecopolitical recessive
must become species dominant for continuing healthy outcomes.
MidLife Systems tip toward new-dominant norms
emphasizing integrity over segregation,
polypathic and polyphonic-nutritional complexity
over Either/Or
Win/Lose
LeftBrain dominant over-simplification.
Both/And
matriarchal
reverse-hierarchical
midlife crisis revolutions
reweave purpose and meanings of day and night together,
life and co-redemptive losses and suffering,
Yang strength and Yin-flowing nurture,
polycultural integrity
revolutionarily new-delineating
notnot bilateral LoseLose segregations of history,
suddenly opening new vistas for cultural creolization,
WinWin complex resolutions
for natural cultures sustaining balancing climates
of ego/ecosystemic harmonic health.
When we are young,
post-revolutionary embryonic,
we develop toward maturity
through deductive dominance of simplifications
and segregating cultures and language.
Yet, to grow into grace-abundant harvest,
summer's Yang vigor
increasingly embraces Yin's flowing integrity
and interdependent cooperative networks
of bilateral-appositional politics,
dipolar co-arisings
of old simplifications in newly resonant amplifications
to support future and past and present regenerations,
cultures of health,
integrating both internal economic climates
and external political nurturing landscapes.
Transformation is a light,
A dim light,
It gradually increases its luminance,
Until there's full radiance.
Transformation is a seed,
A tiny seed,
It falls on the ground,
Where hope is found.
Transformation is a voice,
A faint voice,
It steadily increases its intensity,
Until it has gained tenacity.
Transformation is a path,
A narrow path,
That tunnels through the forest,
We journey until our feet find rest.
Transformation is courage,
Amidst rage,
It fights the opposing forces,
It is not cowed by losses.
Transformation is dawn,
Emerging dawn,
It gradually permeates darkness,
Until there’s no weakness.
Transformation is a book,
An age-long book,
Its words are wisdom,
They bring freedom.
January 26, 2023.
January 29, 2023.
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 26 Poetry Contest,
Mark Toney.
On a life-boat passing through Time, making its way to the island of timely order(s).
Surrounded by death/decay and birth/unmanifested on the other side.
Surfing/Suffering on the waves of Time.
Maybe tonight.
The meaning of words change all the Time.
Unable to find meaning if not rooted in Time.
Counting up or counting down either way you are keeping Time.
Yet taking the Time to Time Time.
If Life is a zero sum game, what's the shortest interval that you have achieved this at?
Millennia, centuries, years, days or seconds ? M-C-IIIVIV-i-d?
Letting go generates space and time thus centering oneself in the present moment.
With precision and ease as in any clockmaker's watch.
The Sands of Time scatter as the hourglass shatters, turning to sand over Time.
Yet Time will keep its own Time.
Unless blocked by these very particles of sand.
Even though the books in the library are buried.
My spoken words will echo throughout Time.
Yet keep running out of sync in this fast changing world.
Acceptable losses by aiding incoherence.
As I await my Trial by Numbers.