Long Made Poems
Long Made Poems. Below are the most popular long Made by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Made poems by poem length and keyword.
In Jesus's day they got thrills from fire,
todays world we put wheels on flyers,
they didn't use drills to find supplies
and they hadn't the skills to fly the skies.
The Bible is wise and full of wisdom,
it gives ideas of the Holy Kingdom,
and teaches ways of Gods Holy system,
these ideas are often used to write a poem.
But those religious poems lack creativity,
and being creative is key to poetry,
now don't see this as negativity,
but a chance to reassess humanity.
If you reorder the words that were written before
the all-time best seller just gets shuffled some more.
It won't impress God when you knock on his door,
because God made all so that poem is not yours.
O' the lordeth rewardeth those so loyal,
and that loyal few repeateth the sequence,
while non-believers see their soul get spoiled
and are damned to Hell for all existence.
To sin within a life of thirty odd years
receives a punishment O so harsh,
but God made all including q***rs
to punish his own creation what a farce.
The Bible is wholly a man-made creation,
used for power and Holy war devastation,
different religions control in different nations,
but none have had God or Holy interventions.
The Church wouldn't Christen me as a baby,
denied the chance for the good lord to save me.
They told my parents you MUST attend church each Sunday,
but that Church ultimatum seems somewhat unholy.
The Church says it represents an immortal,
and its duty to guide souls to a heavenly portal,
but to do it Gods way and refuse a baby is unlawful,
so how can I ever overlook this behaviour so awful.
I won't argue a God there might be,
but when I read poems praising God almighty,
he is separate to religion, at its core is a gang,
with a status and wealth from the coins you brang.
A baby they refused,
an action I cannot excuse,
and this has formed a view,
that it's a system of persons being used.
Scattered by the winds poor ghoulish souls. Wandering lost,
cursed by sins Aimlessly mumble more scared than shy. The earth is damnation, the
hunger wails in cries. Nowhere to be, no one to know, everything you see
fills an envious heart. Wanting to live new, haunting by chance.
You exist as a second glance. Not really there but in the neck of rising hairs. I walk the
earth's realm and dwell amongst the damn. Spirit or ghost, ancient or new
My job is to eliminate you. You should have gone when your life had ended.
To heaven or hell is the Book had written. But you did not ascend into paradise
or you cleverly escape the judgment of your hell.
You did not descend by a powerfully strong will. No matter now, I will reap your souls, into my bag
to dump and furrow into the death of nonexistence. It is a game you
made of it. I am the soul catcher with no regrets.
Numb is a heart that does not exist. My only pleasure is with each lost soul I catch. Nowhere to run
nowhere to hide you exist with no reason to survive. You know my name
you fear my call. Yet you welcome your end accepting your fall. Some
jump in my bag, others I lasso in or with my staff shatter their spirits
to smoke dissolved in the wind. Gathering the lost each day and night
We must obey as we commend our fate descend or ascend or be caught and come to an end. If by fate you escape, you may roam this earth
for a
thousand years, yet the day will come when I find you. Know my name
it is your own, death shall be your final home. Nothing is fair, no one to plead
I am the Soul Catcher, my hunger lost souls feed.
His mother had a way of lighting up a room…
a grace, an elegance, a unique and singular style…
It was something that he noticed every time he saw her smile.
He doesn’t remember the first time he saw her smile
so much of a baby’s life is a blur…
which made him wonder how many times she must have smiled at him…before he smiled back at her.
How many times since the first smile he remembers….did she smile at him?
He can’t begin to guess at the amount….
Even if he had been keeping track…he would have, long ago, lost count.
Because that’s one of the beauties of a mother’s smile…as the days and years go by
she always has another smile to give…as if she has an infinite supply.
Her smiles continued as she grew older
“My smile keeps me young”, she’d say, “because every time I smile all my wrinkles fade away”.
He remembers the day she died…although so much about that day is still a blur
he does remember how she smiled at him….and how he smiled back at her….
And he knows she’s not completely gone…even though it’s been a while…
because every time he looks in the mirror he sees…
how she left him with her smile.
Babies are born everyday
Eyes painted wide, with not much to say
Just basic needs and intimate love
Simplicity, for they know not of
But time surely passes
And questions are formed
The enemy’s kisses pierce like a thorn
Innocence, we were all
Innocent
Before we were taught
Before we knew
Before we ever walked our way through
We were, innocent
Looked to our parents, looked to our friends
Bonds sealed with kisses we thought would never end
Shame in our smiles
Guilt in our bones
Masks painted on us with light undertones
Rejection invades and stings at one's core
Society kills what we were made for
Innocence, we were all
Innocent
Before we were taught
Before we knew
Before we could ever walk our way through
We were innocent
Before the walls and cement were there
Before the sorrow in the air
Before the heartbreaks
Before the fears
Before we ever cried a tear
We were innocent.
By: Sabina Nicole
Written 4-2-12
There are those who genuinely labor and long for certain realities.
There are myriads of cases of dreams giving birth and thriving.
These are such that conceive of great things while fully awake.
I suspect they would be considered dreamers and visionaries.
And then there are such that dream while they are fast asleep.
These are those who do not willfully contribute to their dreams.
The dream may come in bits and pieces and often void of clarity.
Attempts are often made to interpret, determining rhyme and reason.
The former may spend a lifetime bringing to pass that which he dreams.
Perhaps the wisest move of the latter is to do no more than observe until
or unless there is a cause, divine or otherwise, to respond to their dreams.
Methinks that one should approach such dreams as one would notate
the posting on a box filled with glass or other fragilities of grave concern.
"Fragile, handle with care" should also be the advisory for our sleeping dreams.
Notwithstanding, God speaks in many ways, and dreams are absolutely one of them. Subjectivity is most fragile and should be the cautionary stance, and objectivity is more likely to stand the test of time and elasticity resulting in positive outcomes.
Houses, not built on a rock, but sand, remind me of sleeping in the fragility of dreams.
051720PSCtest, In The Fragility of Dreams, Silent One. 2P
I was in an MRI today….
I thought of all the people who are kind to me
All the people who help me with things
All the people who have made a positive difference
- Each and every one -
I thought of sunrises and sunsets I have seen
The lakes and mountains and wildlife
I thought of flowers, crocus and Iris
And the sweet smell of the Lilac in the breeze
I thought of my pets who love me unconditionally
- And protect me -
Instead of thinking of the emergency string in my hand,
I thought of holding your hand at the river,
Watching the water sparkling, flowing on by
Instead of thinking of the loud hammering, drilling noise
Or the clamped helmet that was on my head,
I thought of these ongoing pleasant things,
And a poem was born in the MRI instead!
Heidi Sands
1/21/19
Dear yesterday,
Am glad I got to know you,
Cause together we had a lot to do,
We had the good and worse hours,
And for hours we had each other.
But dear I think of you no more,
I linger on you no more.
Dear yesterday,
Should I just call you a past,
A past I wish not to relive?
For a past you are indeed,
You’re a past I no longer need,
Because I think of you no more,
I linger on you no more.
Dear yesterday,
I do not judge you to be harsh,
Only because my wounds are still fresh,
So do not judge me as hard,
Cause you taught me to be kind,
But I think of you no more,
I linger on you no more.
Dear yesterday,
I have met today,
But I don’t think she’ll stay,
I don’t know if she’ll be fun,
Or much more than you and I had?
But I think of you no more,
I linger on you no more.
Dear yesterday,
Your star shone brighter,
And made me a strong fighter,
Though our goodbye is forever,
Know I won’t forget you ever,
However I think of you no more,
I linger on you no more.
Remember the holy vows truly made?
We pledged our love would be forever,
But you departed without any words said,
Or even a brief farewell letter.
Remember the times of romantic bliss?
How wonderful and joyful our past,
But your love faded and you went amiss,
Trust was nulled, therefore love could not last.
Remember our dreams for the by and by?
Hopes we sought in flights of fantasy,
Ambitions, desires, castles in the sky,
Now find lodging in no one but me.
Take leave, Dear, I’ll survive this splintering,
Someday my trust will live safe again,
Forgiving you will turn to forgetting,
Thinking of you every now and then.
Please take a read
Your greed is making our nation bleed
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
Your hunger and your love for World Power
Is causing men to murder and steal
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
You need to focus and read
About all things that's causing people pockets to empty and bleed
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
It's time you take heed
People are learning how to read
False promises are causing individuals to be unease
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
The British Nation was not only built by the rich and Kings
The Peasant and the lowly labored all day through
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
How disappointed you look as you stand at a distance
Awaiting and Searching for that day
That Hope and Faith will cuddle you too
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings a country no more
Your lies and greed,hunger for POWER has corrupted and destroyed
A nation that was once EMPOWERED by Great Wealth
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
I jealous you no more
Your greed and love for power has now made you very unsure
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
Your petals have withered and your stems bare thorns
Your leaders now wear Horns
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
No man can archive, strive or stand on his own
Maybe it's time you make JESUS your place of home.
X marks the spot
Where a young child had stood,
Enjoying his friends’ company as only
A young child could.
X marks the spot
Where the child lay dying,
Medics there to save his life,
Desperately trying.
X marks the spot,
From which the crowd was kept,
The child’s mother who broke through
And uncontrollably wept.
X marks the spot
Where the ambulance came,
The police taking measurements,
Photographing the stain.
X marks the spot
Where the piles of flowers were left,
Where the moving tributes were made
From those now bereft.
X marks the spot
Where the funeral procession slowed,
Where a community’s grief
In rivers now flowed.
X marks the spot
Where the young child was struck
By a man on a mobile
In charge of a truck.
X marks the spot
Where a quick call was made,
The cost of this phone call
Extravagantly paid.