Long Observation Poems
Long Observation Poems. Below are the most popular long Observation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Observation poems by poem length and keyword.
The story was always in the Middle East namely the Israeli State
Where the Savior will defeat the beast in these the days so late
With Israeli troops now on the ground the Black Bear sits in wait
In Revelations this can be found everything but the hour and date
The soon nuclear Iran is there and their best trading partner Germany
Of course Russia sits up North there and Libya too we shall see
And you remember that Arab spring and all the facts understood
Do you know what that will bring well I certainly feel that you should
And now as Israel continually chips away such anger begins to brew
What has long since been a fray has now escalated to something new
What are these columns of smoke with the coming eclipse and red moon
But this is certainly not a joke as something big is going to happen soon
Hopefully this situation will abate but just look around the world today
Civil unrest is just one other trait as it's for peace we should all pray
But once the final Trumpet is sounded the judgment already given
You'll know these words were founded as seen in how you're living
An observation of what the Bible stated over 3,000 years ago
to what is happening in current events today.
As dark storms roar, on numb biting floor his fears soar,
masked monsters crawl in painful sprawl of chilling squall
in his abode, winter showed then memories flowed.
Familiar gloom creeps in the room; a hazy fume,
war mistakes, a secret shakes while his courage breaks
a struggling moth, blood red froth staining his white cloth.
An ember glow, his hopes flow striding across snow
lighting a fire, dreams desire to reach higher,
a soothing touch his fingers clutch reviving much
anxieties cease, cells release his soul in peace.
August 6, 2020
Keen Observation I Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Funom Makama
The Creation
Man and Woman
Meeting each other for the first time
Unknown World
Condemnation shame
Earthly Descendant
Hate and conviction
Derided from formation Earth dust
Love wasn’t an option at first
Finding themselves
Observation Eye to Eye
Vision of creation
Sensation wonderfully made
Trying to understand Scientific
Knowledge being no quo
Suddenly the motion of the kiss
Romance start
Roaming around the Earth together
Love and endure a love muster
Discovering and Learning at the same time
Acquaintance with nature
New World
Humanitarian strides
The beginning
Good find
Companion spirit
Sage with a chapter
Through the ever after
Love becoming a definition
All at the beginning
I took umbrage over a comment in a current blog, in part stating that poetry, "... is a battlefield..." No. There should be no gauntlets thrown, no darts hurled, and no negative words hurled as if Poetry Soup is a battlefield. I was motivated to write...
Over and over again, blogs become a wallowing hole
where ugliness brews contempt and always takes a toll
on those who are trying to make a simple observation.
Someone takes offense and that provokes confrontation
by a tadpole who'll be a frog and not Prince Charming.
Ya know... the narcissistic type who think it's alarming
that they're ideas are not accepted by others on the site.
Then, it's "Katie, bar the door" and get ready for a fight!
Pollywogs keep swimming in rippling waters of the Soup,
where they take a dump, but don't think of it as 'Poop.'
Blogs are sandboxes where nasty words become litter.
Catty remarks are made by the arrogant and the bitter.
Not surprising, the same ones cut up with their mocking.
It's the same MO they use when they come a knocking...
knocking on new blog doors and causing a ruckus inside.
That's crossing a line that no one should ever take in stride.
Some abuse blogs, as if they're churches or synagogues.
If any part of Poetry Soup should go, it should be the Blogs.
Not as some redundantly claim, should be poetry contests...
Objected to by rallying sponsors and poets in fervid protests.
Blogs serve as playgrounds but break all schoolyard rules
when some can't stop themselves from acting like fools.
There's fighting and tugs of war... never for a good cause.
Gettin' tough over trivial stuff puts a pinch in their drawers.
For gosh sake, act like adults instead of flakes and nuts.
There's never and excuse for acting like a rattlepated putz.
Before the last of the Ancients from Eden had returned to death ,
It was decided that with their direction and wisdom Stones of meaningful proportion and weight should be used to measure the cosmic traveling and mark our point of perspective from then on.
Those Alignments would allow a link to the stars and celestial movings that infinity travels upon ,
reminding also of the male and female balance that is and would always be .
For a mountains age ,our people would observe their true origin and place in the great all and everything.
Their construction of these raised stones and lintel ,as well as successive generations would continue to orbit around that great shining star,
seasons shall be recognised determined and endlessness suggested.
Monoliths were also put in place for the passing moonths ,that would wax and wain illuminating the legion of marked centuries which would then come to pass.
For 9 thousand generations of people-kind shall our places of science and observation stand
looking upon the universes boundless wade .
A tribute to the future from the past , monuments marking our journey ,
These noble sentinels looking silently skyward ,
awaiting the great return .
Last night, I raised an undue amount of strife,
with you who gave so much, including life.
I tried to apologize, but truly can't,
without words in ink, my remorseful chant.
I once wrote a poem titled 'You, My Father',
which didn't feel worthy of others' bother.
It felt like fact, like truth, easy observation,
like simple acceptance of my creation.
Now it is time for 'You, My Mother',
a relationship like no other.
My brothers', my own life, you gave,
mine at great risk; you are so brave.
As a man in this life, held fast are the doors,
to the feeling of a life inside of yours.
I will never know the pain you felt,
to give me any chance, a hand dealt.
Amidst any strife, withstanding all the rages,
I have been lucky enough to turn the pages.
To learn the lessons of you and yours,
to seek out better, more peaceful shores.
You have been there every step of my way,
and I know will be every single day.
There is no love like a mother's,
no father's, sister's, or brother's.
My wife found a grocer that opens from 6 to 7am for seniors only before serving the general public. And I kid you not. Yesterday, on an early morning mission for my wife to purchase mustard greens, I was in the checkout counter at 6:35am, and I must have been home by 7:15. Nevertheless, this is not about my wife or her mustard greens.
Emptying my car of groceries, I suspect he/she saw me first because when I saw him, he was halfway up my front lawn. Occasionally, I will see them in groups and rather interesting for observation but not today. Today, he was alone for reasons yet unknown, and he seemed to feel that he belonged. It's more uncommon to see the likes of him than a bird or cat or dog, or a squirrel. This creature of the featered family was busy in search of a morning snack and did not appear to be on the wrong track. No. In fact, he seemed to be very focused and paid me no mind. I say snack because one would think food findings to be much easier in the wilds than to think of finding a real nutritious meal in such human places. Perhaps this gentle creature is wiser than me.
Anyway, he continued across the edge of my neighbors' lawn, and I proceeded with my morning tasks, losing interest in my early morning friend, the turkey.
However, since he is now my friend, I must advise him to not visit these parts in November.
040420PoSp
You probably never knew it,
But I once lived within five blocks of you.
I and my kids visited you often to play and to view.
You consumed us with sea shells, sand castles, beach balls, and a Frisbee.
Those gallant waves from across the sea, most times, were as calm as can be,
Slowly washing up on the shores, but occasionally, splashing against the rocks. Your reliability and timeliness are so superior to my own and more faithful than clocks.
From your sandy shores on a none foggy day,
Sometimes atop the sea cliffs, whether bright or gray,
I watched the seagulls and my dear children play.
Often your winds were enough to take my breath away.
But I never fretted, because I treasured what you had to say.
I miss those regular visits, bringing you greetings.
I wish that I could sit in those special meetings- The ones where you and the moon make plans and plots.
When the two of you with your creator decide, El Nino’s or not
I miss standing above your gusty shores on an observation deck, viewing a Golden Bridge. I miss the sunsets so enchantingly
beautiful, as they sheepishly hide beyond the waters. I miss the
soothing fog horns of ships sailing in. O Pacific, the list is much
too long of what I miss.
And,
If our eye is not unto Him tilted upwards single
And here below are bowed to vanity entangle
Or else, unto another twisted mortal affixed
A surety inbound woe ever will ensue
The Word of His is a mirror indeed
And upon it should our eye never sway away
Till the full image of who we are is never opaque
Rather, crystal as a glass lay
Let afore reminisce travel past
Of the children of Israel matching to a land of promise
When afflictions arose due to their antagonistic defiance
The egotism,
The intolerance
A portray of the rocky heart in their bosom embraced dear
The defiance that engulfed their world view
Tossing the entire idea of their innate need to be steered aright by Light eternal
Many serpents did sneer invade bite slay
Then Musa the Prophet did inquire for their well-being
Vis-à-vis the inbound distress
It was that they should make a modest observation
To behold a fashioned image of the serpent identical
That Moses had been instructed to craft
To place lay it ascended for ease in gaze
And that was the ideal antidote
Now, Christ is also upon the tree of Calvary boosted
A good a many conflict antagonistic waylay us slay
And often are almost overwhelmed throw in the towel
But are here admonished fasten our eye on Him
As it were in the jungle slate
And on Him Christ our eye to stay
For safety warranty.
I'm making an observation
Bout the state of the world today
This is what I've come up with
In my own inimitable way
Maybe it's cuz I'm an old guy
It seems there's much more strife
There doesn't seem, like years ago
As much laughter in everyone's life
I know there'll always be conflict
Somewhere around the world
This nation or that one gets aggressive
Controversy begins to swirl
Then one country threatens the other
Military action follows soon
We're like a bunch of nasty children
Yelling “Hey that's my balloon!”
Seems like there isn't a cure for this
But there's always hope I guess
That mankind will see the utter futility
And realize it doesn't make any sense!