Long New image Poems
Long New image Poems. Below are the most popular long New image by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long New image poems by poem length and keyword.
About the digital age and loss of human fidelity and meaning
South core stabilized after all the smoke had cleared.
None could understand how such occurrences could be part of every day life, but the setup was inevitable.
All relied on another type of persistent Image outside of the self. The other path discovered unto destruction by the hand of crafty men.
Despite the failures, they persisted on the path.
They created higher dimensions of interference against the intuition of the native images until one day, the merger occurred.
No one could anticipate the outcome.
The complete loss of the native images to the present new Image seeing everything.
Like the god Image of old, a new more prescient Image demanded performance at the limit of the native images.
None could accept the serfdom but none could escape the reality imposed.
All wished for the smoke for relief.
“There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside of them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.”
Quote by Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf
Never take anything that's not yours,
something that you haven't earned;
somebody worked hard to get that,
so put it down and think of a better way
to lift that weight off of your conscience!
If all followed your example,.
and in front of God they'd tremble,
we would have less crime today!.
What keeps people honest
is the fear of being caught
and dearly pay for doing wrong;
some laugh at your hesitation,
others foresee your frustration;
be stronger and wiser than them
by giving honesty another image:
truly genuine and truthful!
Would you like to imagine or really see
a world without danger or trouble?
Start cleaning up your act and be humble:
many will notice the sudden change
and begin their endless jeourney...
down a more righteous road full of wisdom;
what they'll learn from your new image,
can't be compared to what will come!
What keeps people honest
is the embarassment of being criticized,
or even worse of being alienated from society;.
and that fret state of mind
guards them against any attempt
to break the law as often as they could!
Then does the human spirit, indomitable and free,
have an imponderable conscience...
ready to violate all moral principles
that any law-abiding citizen never would?
Perfection is not found in humans,
unless they turn to spiritual guidance,
and they could have a soul
as dark as the Devil,
but with grace they are transformed
and made as obedient as angels;
you have a greater potential...
simply rise above them!
The snatcher of a growing childhood
converting adolescent innocence to adult desperation
now wears trending covering of power and glamour
with mind blowing colours fading away from one wash
coming from a shredded past is this trapped thunder
having an attitude felt in different temperatures
and character molded by a thousand question marks.
An uncle by blood, a friend at heart
a heart which announces all kinds of delicious meals
but serves in actuality spicy foamy vomit
shows qualities seemingly classmates to humanity
but are wholesomely baptized in the dead sea
the chilling atmosphere is no camouflage for this freezing fire
bathed in his urine, yet now declared clean.
Time has grown beards and once again, their eyes meet
she's expected to kick the whistle for his fame to linger
his shadows, too weighty for this new image he carries
smiles manifesting with a lazy energy
knocking the head of every feminine soul
his moving up has considered these stains beautiful
with his sleeping crimes far from societal righteousness
whoever he has beaten, should be a celibate prostitute
and kick the whistle, never letting it reach the lips.
His sunflower is blue and honey, bitter
letting the world know this, translates to singing hymns to the dead
she stands her ground to open his history's black chamber
he's the criminal but the public stands as her poisonous jury
she chews this bone with rubber teeth but never stops
the truth unveils but to noisy ears
to let all know he's an adult born of a child.
He's tenacious but not on a jean underwear
one more little voice adds to force out a moving plant
the anthill is broken as they come out of all holes
one time preys now unforgiving predators
to show a personality as real as a neckless head
resting on boneless shoulders
the whistle has been blown rather than kicked
as justice and fairness become first cousins to life.
It happened in a place
I’d never thought of seeing her
Suddenly there she was
In front of me, smiling her joy
Excited, delighted
My heart pounded in my chest
I felt blood rush to my face
And the moment was such a blessing
Precious and exhilarating
A combination of amazement
Wonder and incredulity
I thought quickly and slid my phone
From my back pocket
These were modern times
In spite of her senior years
Tears of happiness stung my eyes
As I centered her face in my lens
And snapped the image quickly
There she was, on my phone
Smiling like she’d never been gone!
The moment passed and she disappeared
I didn’t look for her – somehow I knew
She’d gone back to heaven where she lived
With God and His angels, Jesus and the Saints
I picked up my phone and looked at her image
Amazed that God had given me this keepsake
She looked younger than I ever remembered her
And I was praising God for this gift of His love
When I woke up and looked at my phone
Hope never far from my thoughts
There in my photo album was a new image
Only it was of a butterfly whispering by
Instead of my lovely Grandmother’s smile
K Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
September 13, 2021
The Ohio wipes its face every few miles.
This bend in the river
forgets the wharfs, the gravel silos
and power plants,
only occasional coal barges
push an industrial flatus before them.
Here cattails gather herons
into measured dominions.
The river gallops under placid waves
Fish-eyed currents dip and toggle
in the ripple.
It is possible to watch yourself
being rinsed and laundered
in this newly whisked stream,
possible to wash your face anew.
A person can stand on this reedy shore
and forget, nor see the daily grime,
but observe a lathering,
as a fishing sunlight
pulls out a new image,
the spread of fathoming nets
flung far to catch this fresh
momentary wonder.
Random happenings of life
get out of record just as quick.
They may sustain however, to boost
our own morals in some tranquil moment, especially
when such incidents have been generated by our own
learnt values and kindness; a helping
hand to a pregnant woman in the
store; accompanying a child
across the road
and like yesterday;
I was drawn with concern as an
old modest lady, preceding me out of bank, dropped her
fat purse. I rushed dropping my heavy office bag to secure
it and called to her, brandishing her valuable.
She looked back bewildered and exclaimed
“Oh!” as she recognized her belonging.
A disconcerted look painted
her face red and she grabbed
my hand with the wallet. Desperation
and relief was the new image on her panic stricken face.
She nearly hugged me mumbling incoherent words of
gratitude and relief. I smiled kindly,
assuring her it was nothing.
She explained she was
saved from a great loss.
I advised her to check the content
and made sure she placed it inside her bag.
I returned back her thankful smile and turned back to pick
my bag. I waved to her as I rushed. I look back, once at the
crossing; she was still standing dazed,
gazing at me, her handbag strongly
clutched beneath her arm.
I waved to her and smiled to
myself crossing. There were springs
in my paces; I felt so good. I glanced around at everyone,
feeling happy and proud. The sun looked brighter in the blue
sky as clouds move decisively. The world
seemed suddenly more beautiful.
My day was made!
you make me better
i see a new image of myself
i feel like i am somebody
i actually wanna live now
i feel cleaner to the touch
the height of my depth has grown even more
my smile actually hurts my face....and it feels good
each sunrise feels new everyday
the feel of my every emotion is not so bad
my pride is now put in the proper perspective
my vibe is a perfectly creased three piece suit
warm happy faces have overtaken the stone cold facial expressions
i clock in each morning looking forward to clocking out
no longer do i drive in circles
no longer do i search for the strength to reenter the driveway of my life
the key to my heart is placed in a hook in the center of your heart
thank you....for helping to notice my dusty flaws
you are such a blessing to my maturation of my mind, body, heart, and soul
you continue to make me a Better Man....
Crown yourself with rosebuds
Some are granted with mystic visions,
able to create choices by different decisions.
The dual vision in contemplation of correspondence,
the saintly sinner, God’s grace and his tolerance.
The rose with its lower stage of roots and thorns,
the necessary precursor to the crown of petals it forms.
The light of the sun and the rose are inseparable,
images of beauty immeasurable.
Awareness of the transitory nature in mortal realm,
to conquer the fleshly will and redeem.
The soul knows she is more then heart and mind,
the old seeks the new image towards divine kind.
Leaps of consciousness and substances are born,
mystical experiences transform.
The sensitivities of the soul are heighten,
deliberate flaws by virtue enlighten.
The existence and to act upon,
the cosmic ocean enlighten action.
Potential rise within the realm,
mystery in mysteries, is the emanation psalm.
For we are what we emanate,
constant decisions of faith.
I am sooo tired
Walk, walk, walk
Each step taking its toll
I'm weary of hope
Setting a new image
To press me toward a goal
What is it all about
What is the point
Suffering, buffering
.....WHAT...my lord???
Isn't it enough
That I gave my life
In your service
No one would want
A life of sorrow
A child doesn't deserve THIS
What about the lofty
Who claim you too
Shall I JUDGE
...Me....THEM...I hate!!!
Wait, what!?!
I hate, yes, I hate
This bitter taste
At least in captivity
I had enough sweet...things
I could afford to waste
......moments
No way! this can NOT be
my life...........I'm trudging IN death
I have to ask
When will it be over
Am I really coming through
What awaits me
The paradise of my mind
Or....just you
All this suffering
Has made you small
I don't serve a BIG god
Maybe you were tiny
And my heart lies open
In this desert.....
..............you have REQUIRED.....yes, REQUIRED...me to trod
..............I HATE plan B....stupid, ignorant woman of fallen man.....
You brought us the required blood of your man
Though I am far from grateful, NOW, it is a full-proof plan
....to get the IDEA of LACK....out of me
My GOD, HELP ME, FORGIVE ME
............as I enter, fully, into the bitterness of soul
Knowing that you WILLING gave up GLORY to walk me into (w)Hole (i)ness.
Written by Trudy Schrader on 06-13-2018