Long Motivated Poems
Long Motivated Poems. Below are the most popular long Motivated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Motivated poems by poem length and keyword.
You plague me with your sweltering disease
My heart throbs in unease
You carry me off to a far-off island
Your breeze keeps me flowin’…scraping sand
Your names escapes my lips
I tell myself,
“Get a grip, dude…”
But you decided to intrude...
My blood drips to the floor
I’ve been losing balance…
The instant you pushed me aside
Your quietude devours me…
I can’t help, but hide…
I feel horribly disheartened…feelin’ too insignificant
To start my day with a good note
Too discouraged to be motivated to run…
You trade me your pain in the past
I consume it like a bear
My stomach is churning persistently…you’re running too fast…
I’m dowsed in despair
My eyes stare vacantly…into space…they roam happily
Your vigilance keeps me safe and sound…I dwell in your tranquility
Your dreams caress my own…
This intriguing comfort never makes me feel alone
I’m under your dazzlin’ spell…
This is heaven – not living hell!
I’ve been bruising myself over you…for a while now
The moment you abandoned me that night…
Your rejoicing mends my gash…heals my mind…
I think better of you – everything’s black and white
I feel so exquisite when I’m around you…
So inspired to reveal my might…just shine your light
On me…and remember to meet me at sun rise…
But I still feel malnourished…
By your sweltering disease
My heart refuses to beat in perfect rhythm – my high hopes nearly perished
By your forceful breeze…pushing me on my knees
I’m stumbling off my feet – I’m not at all pleased
I’m not in the mood to be teased…
I’m suffering…I’m not discreet
How did you push me off my feet?
Why do you make ME feel so damn miserable and incomplete?
You plague me with your sweltering disease
My heart pounds as I fall upon my blood-stained knees
You carry me away to an unknown place
Your voice still rings in my ears… I glance at your admirable face
I’ve faced you way too many times –
Your sparkling with majestic brilliance and pure grace
Under the stars
Beneath the cement
I cry in discontent…caught in the web of lament
Under the moon
Under the water
I feel like a delicate infant…I’m hungry for your attention
Not your damn resent!
I’m lying around…waiting for your bliss
To take me Home
For I’m too downright distressed
To pick myself off my feet…I’m sick and depressed
I need a bed to rest on…
I need a shoulder to lay my head on…
I need covers to keep me warm and safe
I need Your love to keep me motivated to move on…
I need shelter…before I swelter...
I’m torn in shreds…
I feel so unsafe…in this shady cave
I feel the need for a savior…could He save me…
Free me…
Take me away from
M-my lonesome dorm?
Will he lead me somewhere peaceful?
Somewhere tranquil?
Somewhere plentiful?
Somewhere surreal?
Imagine My surprise,
Not only in getting through in under 2 minutes,
But also being helped by the first res-ponder
But wait it, didn't stop there,
I felt I was actually being treated as a customer,
And what I had to say was important.
What motivated me, you may well ask,
To risk being on hold,
And being passed from one department to another?
Well, I was minding my own business,
Anticipating they joy of sinking my teeth into a top of the line,
Angus beef Pie.
What did I find,
A piece of gristle in my pie to spoil my mood,
Not good enough I said.
Hence my well mannered phone call.
But wait it didn't stop there,
I hadn't expected a refund,
Ringing just to point out the fact,
And make sure they had Quality Control.
Imagine my being gob-smacked,
When I got called back by the first responder,
To say I would be getting a free pie voucher in the mail.
So, yes on occasions, customer service does show signs of life,
For poets, at least
Who have a way with words.
Maybe if everybody joined the soup,
Customer service would,
Once again be an every day occurrence.
Living yet I’m not alive
Frivolously stupefied
Uncaring of myself and I
Nonchalantly undefined
I used to compete but there’s no glory
Victory always unrewarding
Someone would appeared before me
Dispossessing the importance
Progress would demoralise
Feeling bad after you’ve tried
All that effort was applied
Just to leave you dead inside
Punishments for doing well
Turning happy into hell
Flip success into a fail
how do you ever excel
Belittling what I achieve
Telling me about my failure
Eventually make me believe
I am nothing but a failure
Some mates have a bitter streak
Take you down when you succeed
Teaching you a winning streak
Is not something you ever need
Unprepared or unprotected
It doesn’t really matter now
care for myself is neglected
Life will only bring you down
Every time I’m motivated
Times that I’ve overachieved
I seem to be annihilated
Death will be my sweet relief
What if they had lived?
What if?
Why couldn’t they live?
We will never forgive,
We will never forget,
What if they had lived?
And yet we will never get to see that happen.
Trayvon Martin,
Killed for skittles,
If he had lived -
He would have been a pilot,
If he had lived -
He would not have remained a kid
Tamir Rice,
Murdered for being a kid,
Playing with a toy gun -
All he did was have fun,
If he had lived -
He would be alive,
And for his family, his life was the most precious gift
If he had lived -
He would have been forever cherished
If all the Black kids,
Would not have been killed,
They would have lived -
They would still be breathing,
If they had lived the world would be a better place for it
There’s a beguiling danger in beauty…
seduced as I was by the fickle fingers of fate musingly stroking my hair,
I envisaged
this lusciously lavish landscape
of sun-raptured heavenly hills and valid valleys
to be a lush, plush place for me to land ~
alas, such deception my naive perception did offer.
Buried beneath the facade of a fertile dream-come-true
and a mesmerizing mirage of natural light and zephyrus breaths -
where your thoughts hugged the horizons of my mind
like clouds on the edges of prairie dog skies
and where your stampeding passions trampled my inhibitions -
were delicate bandeaux of ice;
finespun and feathery like polar gossamer
that formed on the stems of your ruptured dreams
that then became my nightmare
when you had your hard freeze
while warm sap still flowed through your veins,
pumped and pushing through your broken being
and freezing on contact with the chilled clime
cocooning me, in a sudden silken surge of your glazing gauze
holding me, in the vivid wild magic of your frosted crystallized clutches -
fossilizing me, in icy opalescent ribbons of ornate whorls.
Unable to escape the grasping glacial petals of your exquisite pain,
your frost flowers plunged me into the frigid heart
of your bitter bluestem’s prairie winter...
There’s a beguiling beauty in danger
hypnotized and hijacked
as I was by the rhythmic sways of your tall grass ways -
your flickering tongue tasting my air
as my emotions were extorted
till I was bled white -
obviously oblivious
that I was being preyed upon
by a stealthy force of nature motivated by indigenous instincts.
Susan Ashley
March 13, 2018
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Poetry for the Sake of Poetry
Sponsor: John Lawless
*bluestem: tall grass native to the Great Plains with bluish leaf sheaths*
*frost flower: thin layers of ice extruded from long-stemmed plants in autumn or early winter. These thin ice layers form dainty ‘ribbons’ or ‘petals’*
Your flesh was never warmer than my passion, a flame more intense than you could ever bear. My love for writing poetry is my secret weapon.
While I may not claim to be gifted
My identity is Black, and words have always motivated me. I can string them together easily, but making them meaningful? That’s the real challenge. Sometimes, I feel madder at life’s complexities than the Mad Hatter himself.
The idea of being in love fills my thoughts, yet this love doesn’t seem to embrace me in return. My mood can shift dramatically, like the changing sky. As the saying goes, I can’t come out to play on a rainy day—no way! Loving from afar and from the heart is a double-edged sword; there are times when I might reach for a bottle of whiskey to cope.
There are moments when I feel like I'm winning, but often, I realize the need to step back and recharge. Living in a fantasy world filled with lies, passion, and fleeting connections can be perilous, like mixing bleach carelessly.
Yet, the words that spill from his lips in his native tongue capture and soften my heart. Today, my heart races with thoughts of him. I am mesmerized by the beauty of his poetic expression. For those forty-five minutes, I found myself pondering, “Have you ever thanked God for such a blessing?" His smile answered that question perfectly.
I let go of my burdens, encouraged by his poetic gesture. With my birthday just five days away, I can’t help but feel my age diminishing in the face of these emotions; oddly enough, my body seems to be laughing at the numbers. Rudderless? Perhaps, but to hell with it! I won’t be docking anytime soon; Ama is on her way to...Ghana
“Today my heart races for you he said in Twi.
You can't have God only in your head
But not in your heart
You need to just stop looking
And learn to do your part
Stop looking and do something
Don't just observe
As a disciple of Christ
Your mission is to love and to serve
Stop walking around with blinders on
Only concerned with what affects you
Because eventually bad things
Will find a way to harm you too
Stop looking and do something
Don't just observe
As a disciple of Christ
Your mission is to love and to serve
Jesus was moved by compassion
Not just motivated by concern
His mission the Great Commission
A lesson for us to learn
He came to help to heal
And demonstrate true faith
He came with humility, grace
And a love most can't contemplate
Stop looking and do something
Don't just observe
As a disciple of Christ
Your mission is to love and to serve
Don't let the devil keep you blind
And spiritually down
Open your eyes allow the love of God
In you to be found
Stop looking and do something
Don't just observe
As a disciple of Christ
Your mission is to love and to serve
Stop looking and do something
Don't just observe
As a disciple of Christ
Your mission is to love and to serve
Backyard birds call me
in a diverse chorus of voices
each morning.
Come join our wading pools
our mountainous nests.
Come fly with us
if only for this brief respite
immersed in imaginary sanity.
Away from risks and opportunities
of complexly motivated
and dissonantly emphatic human nature
longing to rediscover
our eternally humane ecological soul
belonging reconnected
as and with and in Earth's flying raptured spirit.
Birds sing namaste benedictions,
invocations, with us.
How are you?
Come back to us.
Remember you came from
a long regenerating family
of singing flying swimming
rooting full-octave nurturing voices.
We each,
together,
build musical shrines in Earth's wilderness,
or recreate nothing of healthy value
accessible to all.
In the depths of the soul's shadows, the artist is a living flame, a spark of magic,
Seeking eternal themes that shine beneath the ancient vaults of the sky,
To reveal them under the mantle of night, on canvases woven with starlight,
For in the heart of the human psyche, we pulse under the spell of ancestral roots.
In every secret gesture hides the murmur of the chimpanzee within us,
Wild impulses, covered with cloaks of false light, masks that deceive our gaze.
We pretend that social structures have purified our essence,
But the truth remains, like an underground current, an unceasing river of fire.
Artists, who unveil the unifying themes, capture the magical brilliance,
In lights and shadows, in abysses of fleeting desires and hopes,
For beyond the delicate veil of civilization, we are all,
Motivated by the same primordial Will, wild and restless.
We carry within us the same desires and tremors, like stars beneath the infinite sky,
Inner battles, in fields of unseen chaos, where the past meets the future.
In front of mirrors of shattered stained glass, artists reveal secrets,
Drawing worlds where truth and illusion dance in a mystical play.
Our souls are alchemical cauldrons, full of archetypal essences,
Veiled in the mantles of civilization, we are still prisoners of an ancient will.
And thus, in every secret painting, a bit of our chaos melts away,
Into a world of symbols, of dreams sculpted under the melancholic light of destiny.
Digging into the depths of the human psyche, we find untamed desires,
Sources of battles and passions, confronting ephemeral social norms,
We are driven by the same ancestral forces that govern all that is alive,
The same eternal Will, struggling within us, without end.
In the artist’s enchanted mirrors, we find the themes that bind us,
They shine under the magical and sad light of unspoken truths,
For in the end, we are all bearers of the same sacred spark,
Dressed in illusory mantles of civilization, but with hearts of chimpanzees.
Under the vast and enigmatic sky of existence, the artist digs deep,
Towards the lost roots, hidden under layers of time and desires,
And in every corner of the soul, in every fragment of humanity,
We find echoes of that primordial Will, wrapped in sacred dreams and shadows.