Long Misdirected Poems
Long Misdirected Poems. Below are the most popular long Misdirected by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Misdirected poems by poem length and keyword.
Heaven knows why you wish to hear anger and misdirected blame
tossed toward you on the ether by unknown souls, what a shame ..
You are misguided, mistaken, a mischievous little maudlin imp
to encourage such bad behavior, and to have us not skimp.
Hornet nest poker, naughty miss, you'd withhold a frog's first kiss
Listen young lady, no good comes of bad reminisces
so, curb control issues, chart your own course, hand on the rudder,
I see you there now, through my third eye, so, don't think to sputter.
Silly, silly, woman, a whirlwind you wanted and now you fret,
you just remember, never forget, you're a real girl poppet.
Stringless poppet with that cute little nose, so engrossed in prosey
write to me from alphabet soup, spin me a fairy tale rosy.
Divine are the curls 'pon your head and your sparkling green-blue eyes
and that heart of gold ..well..you're loved and it's no real surprise
for you sprinkle stardust on our lids at midnight, spinning sweet dreams.
Blessed was the day you were born to this earth, smiles on moonbeams.
Demur as a pink rose, soft as a kitten, we're smitten,
addicted, transfixed, are all by the proseys you've written.
Words, though sublime, can never truly tell of your glory,
only Shakespeare and Wordsworth could do right by your story.
Not trying to be analytical
Caught up by all the political
Being so suspected misdirected
Calling it out on a limb,
saw down the tree falling
The water acronym aquatic prophetic
Sitting on high places
Looking down onto the ground humanities graces
Now I'm susceptible,
To be misdirectional
I come to yet still confused
I'm uploaded like EI recluse
I stand alone in the skies embraced
Disgrace physically but spiritually I arise analytical
So in the secession, I feel the recession
Been disrespected, yet I am reflected
I am a mirror shining bright lemonade flavor I am the light
Everything's falling in the place
I've been embraced by the grace
Setting up high in the sky
Looking down at the able
Sitting across from the Creator at His table
Humanity yet Miss crowded and appointed asking those questions why
We reign as we rain down energy I am as I am soar fly
1/23/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©2024
Is life a psychological and spiritual mess, a being of dismay and chaos,
Misdirected and confused by those of staunch and unwavering bios,
Might have started on a farm, urban home, corporate office, or a college dorm,
Looking for devotees to accept vague ideologies and philosophies like their own?
They stirred up vast doubt, skepticism, uncertainty, distrust, and questions of all kind,
Than principles that would guide, direct, shepherd, shape, and lead to soundness of mind,
That would bring peace and harmony; a grand way of life that is healthy and whole,
You lost focus; you lost courage; you lost hopefulness; you lost confidence; you lost your soul.
Did you cast your life upon that which is destined to disappoint, miss the mark and fail,
And empty rhetoric your buddies constantly and relentlessly wailed,
Or upon that which is eternally and everlasting faithful and true,
That if you accepted, you would be called a laughingstock, a fool, or thinking askew?
Is your mosaic spiritual conceptions satisfying your deep need way down inside,
Is your soul a graffiti wall or a spiritual guide to be applied,
Is your soul just shattered by confusion and has left you empty and cold,
A splattering of abstract work than one of realism or anything worthy to behold?
When facing a fierce raging storm in your mind and heart while dejected, fearful, and forlorn,
Did you go to philosophy, self-help books, or to one who could still the storm?
Do you know the one who can speak to the tempestuous seas and they obey him?
Ever heard of the one who walked on water and could calm the hearts of troubled men?
Let me introduce you to that one who can do for you what you cannot do for yourself.
Learn of him by reading the scriptures, the Bible, find it on many a shelf.
His name is Jesus Christ, Son of God; He and God the Father of the same mind.
Through faith-obedience in Jesus, end of your search for redemption; seek and you will find.
Lili Marlene
In times of war, love can subdue cynical
(Men separated from their vocation, now filled with hatred),
And quell the beast inside their misdirected hearts,
And free their consciences to allow sorrow’s comfort.
A noisy silence pervades the barracks’ atmosphere,
Where soldiers stir, stuffing duffel bags with miscellaneous items,
While others reminisce, writing letters; maybe their last,
And await deployment orders for the Western and Eastern Fronts or Africa.
Belgrade, a woman’s voice over the airwaves is transmitted,
Allowing for a moment of silence and reflection for those listening
Alone; spiritually uplifted by memories of better times,
They seek a reason to justify this madness of sacrifice.
“My Dearest Marlene,” the pen begins when all hell breaks loose.
By bombs flashing bright, bloody hands write, then the pen stops:
“Until we meet again underneath the corner light,
Like we used to do, my Lili Marlene.”
***
Note:
"Lili Marlene" is a German love poem set to music by Norbert Schultze (1911–2002) in 1938, based on the poem “The Song of a Young Soldier on Watch,” written by Hans Leip (1893–1963) in 1915 during World War I. The song was first recorded by Lala Andersen (1905–1972) in 1939 under the title “The Girl Under the Lamps,” which became popular during World War II (1939–1945) among both the Axis and Allied troops. The song was first broadcast by the German Radio Belgrade station throughout Europe and North Africa, following the Nazi occupation of Belgrade in 1941.
Marlene Dietrich (1901–1992) was the daughter of a Prussian officer. She refused to work in Nazi Germany and was branded a traitor by Nazi supporters when she became an American citizen in 1937. She gave over 500 performances entertaining Allied troops from 1943 to 1946. Marlene Dietrich recorded the song entitled “Lili Marlene” in 1944 for Decca Records (US) and Brunswick Records (UK), which was released in 1945.
what if every life
was part of a life lived
not just re-encarnation
but something from every life gived
what if we were all Jews
priest of God something God used
once enslaved and often abused
what if one of our souls
were once a Jew
what if we were a child abused
with no chance of living
and painfully misused
to leave this earth
without hope and confused
what if this soul
was a soul God used
what if we were slaves
with a nation to build
plantations and pyramides
or else be killed
what if our lot was part of this plot
and our soul given
to the life of locks
what if our soul was given to war
not to die but relive the horror
not only to kill but have friends killed
to return home disfigured dishonored
and still
to love your country
and your country that love kill
and live with the regret that
your lifes blood was not spilled
what if your life was of a man misused
or even that of a wife abused
with one individual
the cause of your hell
year after year under their spell
no one to hear the screams you yelled
until that day you finally fell
what if you spent your life searching for God.
but you can't see him and to you it's odd.
everyone seems to have a piece of this dream
but to you no shread of evidence was ever seen
hopes die as loved ones go
dispared of life that has no soul
to what purpose was this wicked goal
to give you life without a soul
what if you have a destiny
purposed by God
and what if death be our end
as God gives the nod
then destiny arrives as death resurected
destroying the lies and misdirected
supplying the hope and condeming the greed
waste is our possesion
when we have more than we need
this is the vision that destiny see's
the happiness of heaven
and not earthly greed
what if every life addressed a cause
a time for action no time for pause
what if we knew of every kind of pain
what could we better if we had this gain
an end to all suffering that has a name
an end to all the guilty that play
evil games
Reduced to tear's
By floundering year's
And persecution
The wickers fell
On mannequin and collage painting's
Hanging from the tower gate's
So opaque
The background checked the artist's brush
That stroked upon the maddening thrush
Where common folk and gentry rushed
To place upon a bed of thieves
Which kings receive
A ransom grand
Gleaming gold
And stole by hand
From Jerusalem the holy rock
Whence pilgrims flock
For station on the end of day's
The final battlefield of men on earth
Shall witness the return of God
The apocalypse is nigh at hand
But who will gain the upper hand
Is no more certain
Than the closing curtain
On which the hook's
Some must hang
If that in which your faith was placed
Was sadly misplaced
Or misdirected
i barely remember being a teenager
yet i need only say these words
for my mind to start a tsunami
so true that youth is wasted on the young
all that misdirected energy and passion
that early taste of power
i was just another clumsy teenager
toying with hazy boundaries
navigating unchartered waters
if only our life purpose were divulged
while we had all this energy & enthusiasm
how disappointing to have wasted
so much precious time only to realize
that it’s time we can never get back
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~LOOKING BACK~ 2023
Read on air by invitation ~ June 9, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: 3rd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2021
Innocence lost
and being ignored
sin destroyed
sickness and little hope
confusion of mind
How can fathers detach so easily?
And who’s minding the children?
Broken homes
absentee fathers long gone
mothers now abandoning them too
or too busy to love and care
child abuse and perversion
What happened to the fathers who say they are men?
And who’s minding the children?
Taught to think of only self
gangs and bloodshed on the rise
early pregnancy and more unwanted babies
disrespect of authority now rampant
they don’t live long anymore
Where are the fathers who plagiarize God’s name?
And who’s minding the children?
Abuse their elderly regularly
violence in dating is now so common
all manner of carnage and misuse
homosexuality embellished and tolerated
emotionally damaged while so very young
Why is daddy nowhere to be found?
And who’s minding the children?
Physically impaired and unhealthy
insolent conduct
drugs annihilating
hidden in prison houses
sleeping in the streets
Wasn’t daddy placed as head?
And who’s minding the children?
Raising themselves
Uneducated
Misdirected
hungry
and full of rage
Where are these fathers who beat their chests?
And who’s minding the children?
Nightmares, jungles, blood on hands
Unjust war in distant lands
Scars that no one else can see
Memories doing battle with his sanity
Off to war, a rich man’s fool
Rich man’s son was off to school
Some came home in boxes, statistics mount
Media smiles announcing body count
Working man’s sons without a voice
Off to war without a choice
Coming home to hate, the fire fanned
Misdirected Anger in his native land
Dismayed with the war, activists groups
Pointing blame at the drafted troops
So many dead through the bloody nights
Protecting rubber trees and oil rights
After the storm, there was no calm
Soldiers coming home from Vietnam.
Dedicate to Vietnam vets who served valiantly,
unappreciated at home
It was a world beyond
It was a mind without
A time never to belong
A tranquility ever so loud
Reasons were only unknown
Anger was but swept away
A self was all but needed to own
A self knowing its absolutely okay
No more love to be involved
No more of hate to be misdirected
No more pain whence the caused
No more of individuality to be subjected
And there was no need to hide
A place neither for dancing shadows
To only be unseen yet a marvelous sight
Was it time I have chosen to borrow?
If I ever belong?
It can only be a time I’m proud
Was it not my world beyond?
Simply a world I can never do without