Long Middle of Poems
Long Middle of Poems. Below are the most popular long Middle of by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Middle of poems by poem length and keyword.
soldier
and medic,
in the thick of war;
his first-ever deployment.
frozen
with fear
amid intensifying gunfire;
crouching down
in the foxhole,
trembling
friendly fire
whizz back and forth.
blood-soaked casualties of war
litter the battlefield,
all around him
as he treats
the gravely wounded.
all too often,
helplessly
watching some
in his care succumb
to gunshot wounds.
sea of human lives lost,
unbearable;
a harrowing scene!
the ugliness of war,
he's seeing
for the very first time.
in the trenches,
in the middle of a war
he doesn't believe in,
thinking...
"What the hell did I get myself into?"
Date written: 09/08/2020
In the middle of the universe I stand
Sun watches, winks at the eternal darkness
Ignores science and the sight of God
It burns out a little at a time to reach an expiration date
And contemplates what was
Just beyond the beyond, where nothing matters
The Bootes Constellation exists with "The Great Void"
A little to the right of this we sojourn to the nothingness
Deep space, great empty space, grand void within the void
When there, you start your journey back from perfect black
Traveling at the speed of light to find your way back home
It takes some time, 326 million light years to be exact
Starting out from any direction, to be precise
Would take millions of lifetimes to return you home
Sun watches, winks at the eternal darkness
Like a burning eye it peers out into space
Ignores science and the sight of God
It burns out a little at a time and will expire
You cannot tell it what to do
It already knows the truth
There's nothing out there
So nothing matters
In the middle of the universe I stand
Hand in hand with God
And wink at the eternal darkness
Modified on 2/04/15 for – “In The Middle Of The Universe I Stand”- Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Verlena S. Walker
MY poem is about all of our Christians' greatest escape of all time because:
Our Lord promises to rescue His saints from the earth's seven year's
tribulation period. For when they are saying,"Peace and Safety," He
will return just "Like a thief in the night" for His chosen bride." Jesus
Christ's redeemed church during the "great catching away."
For our Lord, Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice
of an arch angel and the last trumpet of God. The dead in Christ will become
the first to rise from their graves. Then we who are still alive and remain shall be
caught up together to meet them, in the middle of the cloudy sky, and so we
shall always be with the LORD. (All together we shall enter into His holiest of His
kingdom of heaven for seven years.)
In the "twinkling of an eye" we shall all be changed from mortality to immortality.
From the perishable to the imperishable because "flesh and blood cannot inherit
the kingdom of God" in heaven. We shall all be transformed into the image of His
own heavenly resurrection body's and after His own likeness. This is too long
so I will have to rename it and shorten it.
I will see how much of this I can use for Poetry Nations's Eber and Wein
deadline for their poetry anthology March 21, 2025 EST Time.
All of my love in Christ Jesus,
Your Watch woman on the Wall
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954/ October Country
December 25, 2024
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year's
is not the same
as mine
My Sinnerwoman
smiles when she’s caught
in the rain,
she’s enjoying
every sensual thought
her feet slap the Earth
back to its beginning,
and the air whips
through her sweaty hands
running
up the wall of a hill
the mockingbirds
cheer for Sinnerwoman
halfway to the top
an albino deer
spots the saint in her
when they meet
eye-to-eye
on the curve
of the disheveled trail
A plastic bag
dances, pirouettes,
in the middle of the street
more graceful than the trees
in their steadier sway
Sinnerwoman growls
“damn lazy littering
bastards!”
balls it up in her fist
to bring back home
“Oh Sinnerman,
where you going to run to?”
Home
I’m always running home
Being with you keeps me alive,
You are my heart, you are my soul;
A single time that we're apart
Means massive melt of my life's goal.
Thinking of you keeps me awake
In the middle of the dark night;
My mind ponders every moment,
As I'm laying neath the moonlight.
Dreaming of you keeps me asleep,
Still savoring the sweet slumber;
I don't want to wake up from bed,
Because it's not a worst nightmare.
Seeing your face keeps me aglow,
As I look at your sparkling eyes;
The stars are there to guide me through,
While we're up close under the skies.
Having you near my time and place,
Many hardships, I will survive;
Beneath the sea, you're oxygen,
Being with you keeps me alive.
The scorching heat plummet upon the smoldering ground
Sucking chlorophyll from dehydrated plants
Chasing the birds from their monstrous nest
Scattering striking hot rays upon shaky rooves.
Luscious green grass that once stood tall
Lay flat and charred from the torching heat.
Amidst the fury of the day I seek refuge
In a solitary way pleading to the sun to go away.
I walked out in middle of the neighborhood street
And gazed at the blazing sky thundering beneath me
I eyeballed the sunlit sky with my naked eyes
And swirled a cord in a circular motion.
Black cloud suddenly rolled through the fiery sky
And birds catapulting like mad men all around
For one moment I thought the rain would soaked the ground.
I stopped swirling and suddenly the sun escaped from under the clouds
Spewing hot vengeance from the flaming sky.
My body could not endure it and my mind could not stand it
So I walked away and resort to the bushes not far away.
The traffic was flowing the wind was blowing and I could
Feel a sudden calm glowing over me as I lie quietly behind the shadowy trees.
I slowly transcend in the cricket world drowning
out the noise in this pretentious world.
I lie on my bare back and glared at the clear blue sky
Over shadowed by trees standing tall over me
Chirping sounds, crackling sounds, echoing
musical instruments ignited by the crickets sound.
Drums, guitar, flute, piano and trumpet
Sounded the alarm beyond the valley.
Many species of crickets cascading in the bushes
obediently surrendering to Mozart symphony.
I felt a sudden peace propelled over me
connecting me to another world.
Mesmerized by its eternal grace,
the universe is indeed a sacred place.
The sun searched until it found me, forcing its way through
the trees and penetrating my face with its strong light.
It rests upon me for a while until it slowly fades away
Bright orange rays casting long shadows through the bushes
I stayed in tuned with the cricket world comforting my tired soul.
©2015 Christine Phillips
Aha...At Last,..Bitta Bing Bitta Bang
The Figurative Nail Hit On The Hair Strand Size Head!
Though no physician,
this aging baby boomer
absolutely, intuitively, and
unequivocally sensed hair loss (mine),
at first a speculative rumor
not simply in my (ahem) head,
no matter a minimalist groomer
nevertheless, thinning follicles,
upon dawning realization, sans medical
sought relief thru good humor,
though within this balding cerebral noggin
became repulsive as if my scalp
pulled pate rendered as a tumor.
Thus an unexpectedly present surprise
when in private consultation in the guise
as out patient client (early afternoon
December 19th, 2018),
where I did fraternize
and kibitz with the medical assistant
(old enough to be my...sister),
aye did exercise
mild mannered mien mean, aye do patronize
before doctor Rudolf (dearly
reigned) Roth, a practicing
Dermatologist told me no lies
his instant karma knowledge - mainly his
thirty seven years expertise
sought to excise
a prominent non cancerous mole approximately
centered middle of back
a small patch of skin,
he needed to anesthetize
nonetheless, a reassuring persona,
yours truly did lionize
(not merely, cuz
he received a five star rating,
specialist under auspices
of Penn, Medicine)
in Radnor Pennsylvania),
his modest calm did neutralize
any uneasiness, as did his pronounced
humility earn kudos to idolize
such rarely present gentility, and
unwitting capacity did harmonize,
and maximize significance to me,
asper my thinning limp
hair logically rationalize
identified underactive thyroid gland
(hypothyroidism) tubby,
which didst legitimize
no hair brained rooted concern,
hence...less reason to catastrophize',
which for no reason I
wanted to mildly emphasize,
hence choice to apostrophize...
Life gives to each a whisper of her medium,
A plastered palace, on which to post all dreams.
A shared air, to pause each hungered reach;
In praise of steps, accomplishing by each.
A rouse of sympathies, for the melancholy few;
Who test their fortunes with the best, as many do..
Allowing a power to close the door, to every madness come.
With weightless dreams of dreams that overcome
Each hurried mind bemoaned in kind and sum
With fractures turning palaces to slum.
Left behind, as though one might be freed.
When thou art all there is, for every need.
Emptying all footsteps into sand,
To ends that cannot be, whatever planned.
Cracks remain, from those who dictate malice
Graffiti gifted to the plastered palace.
The place that is the middle of all things.
The sun has just made its bed and went to sleep,
And so, the day and its light have just died out.
Darkness and fear have taken accommodation.
Birds hop into branches of trees to seek asylum.
The sky has become angry with darkness.
The stars are dancing for this is their time.
The moon is singing for the dancing clouds.
Hell, heaven and earth are as quiet as a necropolis.
I am seated in my living room tugging at my beard.
One time, tic tac tic tac tic tac I hear in silence,
Then I listen to my laptop’s keys speaking to me.
Those are the words you are reading right now.
Because of the silence of the dead, I think twice.
It is midnight, I ruminate right the deeds of the day.
He who said this; she who did that for a reason.
My head is heavy; my eyes are dozing.
In the middle of the night, there is no fight.
No song, no sound for the light’s quenched.
All is unruffled like the sleeping water of a pond.
God and his Cherubs have cherished to bed as well.
And when it is time, they’ll wake up
To stop the snoring of human beings.
And the morning will knock at our doors.
The cockerel’s song will wake up everyone
To make all of us break the silence of the dead.
Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
Every time I plan to fly there is some disruption in the sky. Every time I plan to fly the eagle appears out of nowhere above the sky, flying at an altitude that cause everyone to be confused, several of them coming from the East jostling in the breeze searching for a place to land but they have to keep moving around, there is no space to land on the ground.
Today is Martin Luther King's Jr. day, England's bank holiday and summer tranquility in Japan. Some people are just going home with lots of jewelry and crowns, they seem to have enjoyed the trip, feasting on fish and chips but just when they are ready to go, they meet up on a traffic jam in the middle of the show and everything comes to a standstill, nothing is moving.
You can play your games on the street but destiny is concrete, what you say here doesn’t count; you must find your own jurisdiction where destiny is bound. If you board the plane to east, you might face a huge defeat; you must look where the traffic is flowing and where the birds are going.
If you are running in the wrong lane, they will drive; you insane and you will fall down on the track and break your sturdy back. You must study the heart of the game and you will never be ashamed.
Every time I plan to fly, I have to search for an alibi; I have to go around the world just to get out of this miserable town. I have to take a hundred and ten cab, change twenty-eight air plane, drive through 30 cities before I can board my plane.
This is a hard road; you have to bold, walk with courage in your right-hand and integrity in your left hand. You have got to map out a path before you plan to depart; the wind is not friendly but the sky is heavenly. When your timing is right you can make that sacrifice.
Every time I plan to fly I have to take off before sunrise, at this time I can view the city and delved into mankind’s sanctity.
There is no trouble at that time when I am at peace with the divine, everything just flows and I know which way to go. Every time I plan to fly, they put me on standby, I never get upset, I always sing because I know that the forces of nature are trying to tell me something.