Long Opting Poems
Long Opting Poems. Below are the most popular long Opting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Opting poems by poem length and keyword.
Picturing the hills green of Ireland
And sunsets of Hawaii secondhand
There are times when I think
How one day as quick as a wink
This beautiful crazy life we know
Will be naught but an old scenario
When we get to heaven we’ll understand the call
Why astral beings choose to come to earth at all
Why they need to go through the mutation
For the challenge of being tempted by temptation
They must get tired of being sublimely happy
And want to feel hunger, sadness, poverty, brutality
Opting for a mission to experience life with birth
To mingle somehow with other souls enduring dearth
In heaven there’ll be no line ups to see
The likes of Jesus Christ and Ghandi
Everyone will be equals in their worth
Returning from their mission here on earth
Giving conferences each day earned
Sharing and reporting lessons learned
Angels talking about their earthly flight
How ’twas living away from God’s light
Blessed heavenly bliss in their native state
Those memories erased to a clean slate
In their reports, we’ll hear of things so different
Moments of kindnesses in high times belligerent
We’ll hear nothing short of tales of free seabirds
Heroes who saved lives with their smile and kind words
Mundane things that really are breaking ground
Like wiping away tears off faces with a frown
Up in heaven we will understand about the before and afterlife
And how here on earth there is some reason for all this strife
We’ll know life is nothing but a fraction of a moment in all eternity
And there is really nothing differentiating you from me
Read on air by invitation ~ May 12, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submited on September 10, 2018 for contest DESCRIBE HEAVEN sponsored by FARAJ AJMAL - RANKED 2ND
Mirror, Mirror…
by Odin Roark
Mirror, mirror off the wall,
who’ve you seen the most craven
of them all?
How portable your travels,
from storefront windows,
to dead-quiet water surfaces,
you remain vanity’s evil sister.
We thrust our egos willingly,
even as we treat you as a non-entity,
a mere reflective surface,
yet…
Your nocturnal savvy--
your ability to slip into our dreams,
to shake the very foundation
of our arrogant consciousness,
our daytime persona of reality,
our screaming reflection,
muffled by REM periods of
answers to questions
we dare not ask during consciousness--
is so perceptive.
So shaken are we upon waking,
our mirrors of self-image we dare not face,
now indelibly imbedded in our inherent wandering,
a revealing only we know.
We start another day.
We pass more storefront windows,
gaze into our morning black coffee,
perhaps a walk through Central Park
passing the mirror-like duplicity of the lake,
realizing inertia and purpose are incompatible.
Our desk top monitor,
the boss’s glass enclosed family portrait,
the spit shine of a supervisor’s shoes,
even the toilet bowl in revealing light,
there we are.
Perhaps we need come at these reflections sideways,
these environments of foreboding shadow,
where we might sneak a view of our shortcomings,
see hidden truth and know it’s okay to ask
questions we are afraid to posit.
But…
Perhaps that’s only possible after we
avoid completely the reflective surfaces
as friend,
as us,
as truth,
as the one we deem as real,
opting instead for the inner person
the non-reflective entity only we know,
the person who knows a reflection
is but a surface defense.
Mirror, mirror…
Are anchors fetters or do they stabilise,
acting as moorings, holding us steady,
that we may stay grounded in our comfort zone,
whilst battling fierce winds of duality?
We walk alone yet seek safety in numbers,
opting to adopt culture based on birth,
deludedly following narrow beliefs,
although in our heart, gong of truth rings not.
We feel within our bones that we are a soul,
so why then do we cling to illusion,
more so recognising that it is transient,
enmeshing mind in a gossamer web?
Employing specious logic, we justify
fear of freedom, inventing a new script,
languishing thus in darkness and rewriting
beliefs in secret code we can’t decrypt.
17-March-2023
New Moorings Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
It looks so sweet,a pity it wasn't sung
Is there hope for what future may hold?
For faces I had thought we're gay
I saw were lined with care
Life unbelievably was clear
And vividly was clear
My lord,where shall I place my bribe?
Then society cheats itself
Billions lost publicly
Big brains lynched
Commoners suffer the wrath of the mighty
Failure justified
What kind of times are these?
The drought and the hunger
Shocking levels of unemployment
Flooded homes, flooded homes for 56 years?
Turbulence in quarantine centres
Others opting for death
The primeval beast devouring us
Turning dreams into nightmares
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the years
It matters not how straight the gate
In the fell clutch of circumstances
My head is bloody but unbowed
The night has been long
The morning I look through your anguish
Clap hands,let's leave the preening
And stop impostering our own history
They cursed our intrusion of peace and the sun's
Intrusion of his shade
Colonial judges
Cobras uneasily lying side by side
Left to roam and bite again
No narrow fancy
Full fifty six years of exile
It has never been so profound
Solitude have I to endure?
And that's the way it should be!
I live in my heart although thoughts intrude
at times, which I dismiss from my presence
but they soon return because they are rude,
so I still my mind in blissful pleasance.
Caressed by bliss mists divine and sublime,
I remain for the most part in deep trance,
stirred breath by breath by love’s beauteous chime,
opting not to alter my circumstance.
There’s no effort that needs to be applied,
to become the flame of eternal bliss
so holding God’s hand, I thus wingless glide,
drenched in rapture as polarities kiss.
As light self-existent, throbbing within ~
I feel with each breath, ignition begin
27-May-2023
(Moses Gava Featuring Kudakwashe Victor Shoko)
Neither did it start yesterday
Nor yesteryear
A scroll further backward
Deep into the historical era
I could see him crawling
During those years of polling
They were born egoistical
I wish I were not
Philanthropic, I would have preferred
To see them holding my trifles
At them I would fire a rifle
Only that my fingers couldn't shoot to kill
With strong aversion
I behold them thriving
Because I'm striving
At them I'm diving
Only to interpose
To forslow them Of course
If jealousy were a disease
Surely I would be among the ill
Opting to get well soon
And so, Starting Today
I will loathe no more
I will cheer evermore
Economically and Socially
I am ailing
Starting Today
I will retreat into writing
My treasure, My company
Lies in that realm
It's my world,
I create what I want
This world
Is an awfully awful place
I'll shrink from it
And venture into were I find solace
Starting Today
I'll excrete sadness and sorrow
I'll take gulps of happiness,
Today not tomorrow
Things cannot go in your favor always,
Let that sink in
You can't create happiness in someone's world
You'll be altering its design,
Create your own world
Happiness or solace,
You'll put what you want
Hell or paradise of your making,
How is that?
The orator is Starting Today
When is your today?
Today is today, Start Today
Starting Today, let's all Start Today
You know what you want, get it Today
An Awakening
by Odin Roark
The cover of cotton comfort
How secure the asylum
Overhead
Body
Snuggled deep in pre-sleep
How determined we become
To relieve that daily nemesis
Reality’s reminder that fantasy
Desires nothing more than peace
Our minds and hearts
Scream at each other
Wanting only the accord
Available to those who abandon
Make believe beyond
Informative abstract
Accepting not reason and logic
Opting instead for the quick fix of escape
Suffers vacuous results
Where goes the lost potential
The essence struggling for actuation
The reaching ratification of reality
Wanting but understanding
Expecting nothing beyond acceptance?
For the weak
Gravity holds firm
For the strong
Purity of soul renders invisible
Those obstacles reserved for the anemic
The few who open eyelids
Consenting to light and colors
Infiltrating the monochromatic world of failure
Flows a rainbow of understanding
How revelatory the moment
When allowance delivers epiphanies remarkable
Rendering doubt but a glitch
Self-loathing but a challenge
Where outcome is all it needs to be
While pursuing
An awakening
Sometime soon many of you may get kicked around some.
Who knows, maybe you'll get picked up taken away and held for treason.
One day soon many of you will be picked at random
and all who supported you will revel in their abandon.
Everyone appears to be right on coarse
of blindly following our leaders and accepting their wars
while our children continue to get slayed in the name of fighting terrorists.
A War That Will Never End, that's what this is.
Everyone still refuses to see
how we're all losing our civil liberties.
Well, it doesn't really matter to me
if I'm seen as a tin foil hat wearing paranoid of conspiracy theories
or if I'm seen as the unknown, unpatriotic enemy
because everybody has always had to fight to live free
and I refuse to live my life as a refugee.
I can't spell it out any more clearly,
The Bush's are major conglomerates of the oil and weapons manufacturing industry.
They possess billions upon billions of dollars in contracts with the military
and are opting for, if not already a total oil industry monopoly.
So who benefits from this war on terror truly?
Who does indeed? Who does indeed?
I used to understand Xanadu as or of someplace,
Wherein the nature maiden fashion parades at her best;
I asked, later: can't this be a guild of people of grace,
Who, like angels, serves each creature, and thus, becomes blessed...?
In the works of the Missionaries of Charity, lo,
I found the answer to the question of my constant search;
Can you cleanse the decayed wounds of lepers and make them glow,
With God's grace, that goes beyond the Holy Catholic Church...?
They picked the half-dead from the streets and nursed them well,
Cared as though any mothering instinct caring for young;
Made them realize what's heaven and what, truly, is hell,
Thus, filled the oxygen of new birth in their decayed lung...!
Opting to care for such I found my Xanadu so plain,
Utopianism gave way; I, joyfully, sooth their pain...!!!
19 June 2023
Ours is one nation, under God;
a God who rules not by division
but by his children's combined strengths;
a God who governs not by inflicting
pain and suffering, but by healing; a God
who loves not power but the Power of Love.
A God who gives all to His Creation, furnishing
our needs as a mother nurtures her newborn.
A God who does not hoard and accumulate but
releases to share. A God that does not
threaten and condemn but reasons and
forgives. America has turned from Heaven
opting for a New World Order. America has
adopted the primitive religion of Instinctive Man.
Forgotten the realization that, the Devil is not always
a horned creature with a maniacal laugh...but,
in fact, more often than not, the evil reflection we see in
a mirror, the worship of a Godless smirking self.
Vote them Out!