Long Mute Poems
Long Mute Poems. Below are the most popular long Mute by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mute poems by poem length and keyword.
MY SOUL'S JOURNEY.
Oh my mind!
Oh my mind focus on the lord Almighty.
Think about His Majesty.
Let your eyes capture him on his throne,
And show what he is like to my phone.
Oh my tongue!
Oh my tongue, my mind's eye has projected the image of the supernatural and indescribable being,
So switch your phone from mute,
And tell my whole to salute.
Sing hymns unto him until my heart wakes .
Oh my heart!
My tongue is singing your favorite hymns in line with a melodic rhythm.
So don't hesitate to wake from your dream.
Love and worship him whose image my mind's eye captured with my tongue's tune.
Join my tongue and mind to facilitate my soul's journey.
Oh my soul!
Keep embarking on the journey,and don't be weary.
Where that indescribable being of whose image my mind's eye captured is, there you have to be.
My mind, tongue and heart are there to provide escort, so don't worry.
The journey isn't easy but will be worthy.
Unexpected Coming
By Mark D. Stucky
“Therefore you also be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.” (Luke 12:40)
Nobody expected Jesus
to walk into Starbucks.
What would Jesus order? we wondered.
Why is the Son of Man in Starbucks?
Did Christ come for converts
or just for steaming caffeine?
Did he come to judge
the coffee and the danish?
Would his credit card earn heavenly rewards
that he would redeem for sinners’ souls?
Could I get a cool selfie with the Messiah
and maybe make a viral video for TikTok?
Is the Rapture happening now
without sending notifications?
I wish our orders
had all been ready…
Is it now too late
to get a latte?
(First published in Solid Food Press, 5 November 2023. See also my humorous poems “Missing: God Incarnate,” “Salvation in an App Store,” and “God’s on Mute.”)
(Image by Engin Akyurt on Pixabay.com.)
tumbling forces
stumbling courses
i fall endlessly
not one friend, just me
so i walk till me heels bleed
till i can say to myself 'he feels freed'
then i hear the water flowing
the Lord has Found Me, the tonality of His Offer Growing
i skip rocks feeling suddenly At Peace
the apex of stress i so Happily Release
i think i will go to My Quiet Place ToDay
mute the world and so CareFully Pray
my rare smile defeats my usual monotone presentation
i so Love the Feeling of This NewFound Re-Creation
i will treat myself to a butterscotch milkshake in the name of Thanking MySelf
i kept the Door Completely Open and unexpectedly Improved the Happy Whole of My Health
It was when I reached my fortieth birthday.
Not so young, but, youthfulness ruled the day.
I was known as an educationist, around,
My intelligence and wisdom, they felt, was sound.
Not many were invited to my birthday party,
My friends said I looked hale-and-hearty.
Cut the cake and with all simple meals shared,
I felt, as though by all, I was loved and cared.
It's when I stood to thank each one that evening,
Something tucked my tongue for no evident reasoning.
I stood silent, shocked, perplexed and lost,
None could understand what had happened to the host.
I tried to talk. I could not. Tried again; failed!
Not knowing my state of mind my friends hailed.
When, after hard trials, like dew drops, my tears spilt,
All, around, understood. Lo! There’s some tilt…
They took hold of me and asked me what happened,
I could not articulate; all seemed so saddened.
Doctor - some said; That's what they soon did,
None could remove from my tongue that lid.
I, an orator, remained speechless. Is it God's work?
Or demons do such tricks that God gets the jerk?
I resigned to the state of affairs and remained silent,
Everyone around understood this and became quiet.
I felt my trouble is nothing before John Milton,
I could see; he could not; My path is, hence, silken.
Pain in me, yet, grew, like fire in a dry forest,
Though I seemed silent, within I had great tempest.
Having found no remedy in treatments mountainous,
I turned to God, who is bundle of boundlessness.
I surrendered to him and said - Give me speech -
In return, I will, your glories ever preach.
In return? O fool! What would you give God?
Inner mind said. What could to God you award?
It's, hence, I lay before him, as though dead,
As mute as a muted lute, I went ahead.
In one of praise and worship during night adoration,
I could feel, within my tongue, certain restoration.
Is it reality or illusion? I did never know,
Dumb will speak, scriptures said, if believed so.
I believed; trusted; relied on his immense power,
Many prayed during that very long operation hour.
I talked. They could understand me as before,
Does anyone know, yet, the truth within the core...???
God and God alone is the truth I firmly say,
Without him, for salvation, there is no other way...!
24 October 2022
ER: Enlightenment Recovery Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
SATURATED IN SOLITUDE
The solitary moon moves slow across the still sky
Sprinkles silver dust on the seizing elixir of solitude
I drink to the dregs as the fluid time passes me by
My voice speechless in somber stillness, I know why
The trance of clutching aloneness makes me mute.
Silence soaks within, saturates my mind with serenity
This is what an insular life languished would long to be
Lancet sense of solitary self splits my sole identity
In the void of loneliness I discover my dormant duality
At the silent inner depth I hear me talk with me.
Written : April 14, 2018
April 22, 2020
Contest : Strand Pick B, Any Theme, Any Form
Sponsor : Brian Strand
It's shadowed in darkness, growling like a hound
Creeping about, whispering as it slithers around
Begging for attention, for it desires to be found
Silence is loud when its echoes continually resound
Behold, it comes masked, disguised in these places
Preying on the gullible ones with innocent faces
Cajoling as a lover would to gain their good graces
Offering false humility with arms of frigid embraces
Silence cries out with a stench breath for adoration
Quietly seducing the naive with phrases of flirtation
Long ago, spawned to be the wielder of denigration
Contrived as a stealth mute, soused on pride's libation
Writes with ink splotches, dripped from a toxic tongue
Its poetry is deceiving, lyrics not meant to be sung
In darkness, it leaks toxins with the scent of dung
Disguised as a pacifist, but its bile words are flung
Silence, speak what you should be wanting to say
then fade back into the shadows where you often play
Your acrimony doesn't fool the many you did betray
Sheath your querulous pen, for it leads people astray
The background is loud and crowded with plots;
blended conversations, a threat to my thoughts.
Clusters of shapes invade my blank space,
shifting without an object to chase.
You float like a figure, just passing through,
with the lighting too sheen to hold on to you.
When the background is different, you have changed
like an undone puzzle, rearranged.
Do you remember me, who sat at your table?
One leg was wobbly, grape juice unstable.
The roll edges were crisp but hollowish inside
like an unreceived hug, uneven beside.
You spoke about me, but never to me
as if autistics weren't part of humanity.
My mouth was mute, but yet my mind spoke.
I pondered your uneven sleeves like an obscure joke.
Is this still you, in a blue tee, without your mom?
My hands are waxy like Grandma's lip balm.
Speaking is arduous; how does one say, "Hi?"
What if it's not you in the background of my eye?
10-16-2024
Silent Escape
A light breath of wind refreshes his skin,
and the sun slowly fades away.
His gaze wanders through a violet-pink sky,
where faded clouds drift along.
Offering himself to the slow magic of the day,
the shades glide in harmony.
Silence lays a veil upon the shapes of the world,
evaporating in soft rising vapour.
He whirls, lost among immaterial beauties,
given to the immensity of space.
He lets himself be carried, his thoughts diluted in the clouds,
breathing in the sweetness of escape.
Then he drifts, guided by the mingled light of colours,
feeling weightless in the absence of sound.
It is not a dream nor an illusion,
but the quiet force of the reader who forgets himself.
To escape for a few moments…
into mute abysses where the sky glows and remembers.
— Joël Charvillat
Hopes
Take my hand and follow me
There’s a new world ahead for us to see
Don’t look back keep straight ahead
Stay close to each other, you’ll feel no dread.
If you only do but trust in He
The one called ‘King of Eternity’
You can live for the time no more tears will be shed
‘cept tears of joy at the return of the dead.
In that world where no evil lurks
The eyes of the blind will admire his works
The ears of the deaf will hear the birds sing
The voice of the mute will praise our great king
The legs of a cripple will race with a cheetah
A motherless child will run to meet her
The fatherless boy will take his hand
Blessed are the meek who inherit this land.
No one will weep in hunger,
No one will cry in pain.
No sounds of gunfire
No dropping of bombs
Will ever be heard of again.
No threat of violence
No fear of death
To shatter your peace apart
But the peace of god that excels all thought
Will fill your mind and your heart.
Do you believe this is true?
Can you see me and you?
He offers it us, you can take it!
Just listen to him
And never give in
Together I’m sure we can make it!
A.Jarvis October 1994
A Singular Presence
A singular presence among a throng of grass blade,
Green as worm blood, her marked grave devours dead air,
Like a convulsing snake slurping a rat’s tail for dessert,
The breaths of ghost winds embrace a shuddering tree,
In numbing grief with robes made of hollyhock and bearded iris,
Her still cry is frozen in the icy prisons of vague remembrance,
Then a single flash of monarch orange astounds the mute witnesses,
As it flutters like a praying monk on fire, landing on drooping leaves,
And her name, etched upon the singular sun-dried tombstone,
Sends to the tranquil estuaries a roaring river of inconsolable tears,
And her awakened soul finds a respite at last in its rush to rise.