Long Mournings Poems
Long Mournings Poems. Below are the most popular long Mournings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mournings poems by poem length and keyword.
Can I allay man's acceptance
of poverty which was not a dire circumstance before?
On those past days of summer the stale from bread crumbs fell
onto the lidless eyes of each child, woman on the street while my hands stretched out in full vanity ...
my very core frustrated, angry as I
walked without faith;
this self- imposed conceit ruling my thoughts as I served the community for my own glory.
And though I wished for more nights abundant that will quench their souls,
I slaved, part of my time dedicated to teach them how to make a living--
but can I wish for the morning sun to come and glow behind the ridges of a slum village wrecked by knives of hunger?
'Empathy denied by pride! '
How could I befriend genuine charity
when my self- centered heart
hungered for personal gain, the applause
of greatness screaming from tin cans and rice bowls of unpriveleged families?
How full of myself was I,
anticipating honors for service rendered,
an accompaniment to my thirsty pride...
and like so, reaping poor men's
adulation, I became more empty,
more devoid of inner peace...
Into deep mournings, prayers sought me:
Who is poorer of spirit-- the giver or the taker?
I pause now...another tomorrow begins,
baptism of epiphany flames the belly.
Another day arrives, my hope and transformation refreshed.
Reflecting its neighbourhood,
The lake water shone yellow.
Resembling a synchronisation of saturation
With the setting sun.
Seizing green colour of the grasses
The sun painted them gold.
Engrossed gazing pines dance spectacularly,
Only awakened with sparrows' chirps,
And Robins' melodious songs.
Perched on the edge of a dead tree,
Abrupt thoughts hovered my consciousness.
Despite a gust, the dead tree stayed firm.
Nighbours swayed, relished,
Departing sun of the beautiful evening.
It rests and rests....
The landscape mirrored delight,
It grieved its own death.
Incompetent to sense, the scorching sun,
The white sheet of snow, dusk and dawn.
It rests and rests....
Observed the ambience twice .
No mournings! no sorrow!
Nothing ceased their pace.
Infact , they moved on.
It rests and rests....
Let's speak of numbers.
I’m a Kenyan 2.0,
With an ID to prove.
I own the code—254,
Been here since I was 0.
Gen Z did awaken,
Learning the art in math—
The topic on tax,
And the story of Zakayo.
Gen Z did awaken,
Learning history’s tale:
The beauty of freedom—independence,
Yet freedom fighters still fade.
And the Bill of Rights,
Freedom of speech,
To stand against the bill—
Its creator sickened the breach.
Gen Z did awaken,
To our new 'Leader,'
A master of language,
Crafting his best lies.
The world on hold,
Schools, hospitals, streets—
All in chaos, all closed,
Waiting for ‘Mr. President.’
To speak of numbers,
Of those lost in protests,
Lost in abductions,
And those gained in corruption.
Protests painted red with blood and tears.
A beacon of peace in pieces.
A home of 'hakuna matata'
Full of mournings,
Numbers adding in the statistics.
Sunrise eats the nights heartache
Mournings are the music of my soul
Failing big by what was a stake
Dying every day by loves toll
I'm just dwelling on a prayer
Alone again broken from the part
Drifting from a dream of no compare
Love me now save my heart
Pictures of grief hang on lives wall
Silence breaks the barrior of my mind
Waiting breathless for your yearning call
Capturing your eyes but always blind
I'm just dwelling on a prayer
Alone again broken from the part
Drifting from a dream of no compare
Love me now save my heart
Feelings gone removed from this place
Fallings tears drown me forever
Hurting always seeing the pain on my face
Knowing the cure is us together
I'm just dwelling on a prayer
Alone again broken from the part
Drifting from a dream of no compare
Love me now save my heart
Turning blue from the emotion
Burning to death from passions fail
Wanting to blindly show devotion
Living on with you to tell the tale