Long Out of time Poems
Long Out of time Poems. Below are the most popular long Out of time by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Out of time poems by poem length and keyword.
I was never a great athlete, just a sub-par one at best.
I don't sing, play an instrument, nor did I ever learn to dance.
As a young boy, I felt and accepted the call to preach the gospel,
but from a professional standpoint, I did not succeed in that field.
Moreover, I spent the prime years of my life in other fields of endeavor
To support what I felt to be the true calling and purpose of my life.
During those 30 plus years of ministry and raising a family with my
very supportive and dedicated wife, there was still a longing inside of
me that cried for attention. The years came and went, but there was
something yet unstarted, yet unheeded, sitting on the shelf of my life.
By then, I was mid-50's and felt I was running out of time with a mission
unfulfilled. I was filled with a purpose like a seed planted inside of me by the hand of God, but this seed was not germinating. I knew that it was passed the time for me to launch, and I had no excuse, because this project did not require an allocation of funds, and the only equipment required was pen and paper. So on an amtrak train in 2004, I began to write.
In 2015, I discovered Poetry Soup and began to post my poems and stories.
A few days ago, I reached the mark on Poetry Soup of 1000 postings. I tell you from personal experience, I have come to realize that as a famous violinist once said, "The music is not in the instrument, but in the soul". Yes, the writing was deep inside of my soul, but it seems that it was being delayed, distracted, and blocked. Though it was a long time coming, 'release' did come, and when it did, my soul found relief, sweet peace, and refreshment because
the writing was released.
102019PoSoupCtest, Strand Choice A, Brian Strand(030920)
I was born an old soul and always a
step out of time. It seems old things just
come to me, like vintage jewelry
interesting found in antique shops
and second hand stores. I found a fancy
cup with a small chip yesterday and
it is pretty on my window ledge. Dust,
and cobwebs in depths will
not bother me when I am on a hunt. Even
tattered books find a forever home,
and just ask my friends, I set my table with
mismatched dishes beautiful . . .
______________________________
October 19, 2016
Poetry/Narrative/Born Old
Copyright Protected, ID 16-840-572-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Greatness Arising
From the ashes greatness shall arise
I am the cold hard truth buried beneath your darkest secrets.
Your bull.
Your drama
Your nonsense
Your karma
your lies.
You will never break me no matter how hard you try.
I am connected to the universe
The stars above me
etched into my eyes
I am a Magical
Mythical
Mystical
Mythological creature.
I am a Bi Polar soldier
Living with a mental disorder.
Out of time.
Out of touch.
Out of date.
Out of reach.
Out of order.
Written by Adrian Bogdal 10/11/2025
The Unknown Dreamer
David J Walker
I saw myself in a rerun of
the Johnny Carson show
from 1974
with five more
guests before
I would blow
through the curtains and take a bow
Oh
I remember how
he announced
my name clearly and then went
Into his daily blog
monolog
comedy routine
But wouldn’t you know
he ran out of time
before it was mine
to meet
the sweet
sound of applause from an
adoring audience
He clearly said they would
Have me back
Some other time
Wouldn’t you know
The almost of the unknown dreamer
Strikes again
There was a Homeless guy on the corner holding a sign
It said I need some help, I'm running out of time
So I stopped and asked him, how come and why
He told me he has cancer and he might have to die
He needs to have surgery to remove a tumor from behind his eye
Should I believe him, it could all be a lie
He said he has three kids and a wife
And can't afford to go under the knife because of the price
If he doesn't get it done soon, he will no longer exist
I had this overwhelming feeling to help, I just couldn't resist
The tears in his eyes made me believe he was telling the truth
I know longer needed anymore proof
He said he was unable to work due to his condition
The tumor had started to make him lose most of his vision
So I pulled out my wallet and I helped him out
Isn't that what kindness is all about
I hate to see people go without
They are people too, it's the least we could do
Even if what there telling us, is not completely true
Faith in humanity needs to be restored
So please everybody, jump on board
There down on there luck and need a little help
Have a little sympathy, the kind that I felt
Form:
Once more do I find myself
Beyond that of night
Timeless within moment’s wealth
Of moments to be given sight
Enabling myself for the limits
Beyond all for perhaps a higher calling
Across where time and space meets
With a portraiture in finality for the painting
Yet a picture I do not yet see
Painting with empty words... an empty mind
However much else if never to be
I’m engiven moments... and running out of time
So much for words, if at all
Too much of hope perhaps... too much expectancy
However, I’m flying as I fall
Experiencing a feeling never before in pure honesty
As I find myself once more
I then realize that my moments were found
Time rendered... was it after or before?
Beyond that of night... where moments came round
My future curves under, around like a ball,
Rolling back out behind in an endless hall,
Moving further ahead, running out of time,
What’s gone before, continually rewinds,
The present is below, trying to catch up,
If only could go lateral, might be enough,
Can I turn and go back, no definitely not!
Counterintuitively, stay on the same spot,
Sounds really strange, but that’s just life,
An arrow orbiting, in geostationary flight,
Impossible to return, through cosmic time,
Next verse is easier, will explain my rhyme,
On an airport Travelator, going the wrong way,
Got very last call, my planes almost away,
By
David Kavanagh.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLCHXfkGOIw
Perhaps if we were to take apart grief as we unravel life
one single moment unstitched pulled out of time
we'd begin to see that death is only a silent passage
and we need not bear the loss alone,
The memories of our coverlet years of love
will drive us home *
Perchance, mayhap, we can take it by the hand like a seer,
"we were born to exist and disappear" said the Mysticeer
and I for one believe that death is the encoding of life;
The silver threads of Mercy are weaved inside God's blanket
big enough to warm each widow, grieving parent, and child
As long as we love well, while we are still here,
death cannot take away our loved ones, nor their time on earth.
In Love And Light, Your Mystic Rose
Updated lyrics May 19,2020 to flow better.
THAT’S WHEN I FALL DOWN UPON MY KNEES
There’s no way-
I’ll see another sunrise
My hope is gone-
as I'm contemplating my life
Prospects are bleak-
that’s just the way I’m feeling
My strength is gone-
and my will to live is fading
Here in the dark-
Even my shadow has left me
I spiral down-
into a pit of misery
That’s when I-
remember that you still love me
I kneel to pray-
and throw all my cares upon you
Chorus
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
And then I beg you Lord...
Don’t turn your face away from me
I know I’ve made a mess out of my life
Could you help me please?
When I feel like it’s the end
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
I cannot lie-
I know I’m running out of time
And I know-
that your patience is wearing thin
I must change-
if I’m ever going to save my life
Oh please dear Lord-
help me fight all my sins and win!
Chorus
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
And then I beg you Lord...
Don’t turn your face away from me
I know I’ve made a mess out of my life
Could you help me please?
When I feel like it’s the end
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
Chorus repeat
Finale
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
That’s when I fall down upon my knees
repeat and fade
Re-posted with music and vocals July02,2020
John Derek Hamilton June 14,2018
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2018
REALITIES ?
I feel like an image in a Salvador Dali, painting.
Dripping off the edges of a surrealistic reality.
The Dream, - She has left me behind - a nightmare.
My spirit in an altered state of reality.
Reality melting all around, within me.
My life's clock ticking away, running out of time.
I find myself among those wretched Souls,
Screaming Souls, huddled together in mass misery
Clawing, reaching up in a desperate attempt to escape
The hell fires of Dante's Inferno.
Hands of my clock, limp, impotent, melting.
Time runs off their tips like tear drops,
Into the dark depths of eternal Dreams.
Dreams, that have her own realities.
Reality has no Dream, for me.
B. J. "A" 2
October 10th 2010