Long Outpoured Poems
Long Outpoured Poems. Below are the most popular long Outpoured by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Outpoured poems by poem length and keyword.
clothed in drama
a pentecost poetic
chiastic
three stanzas long
the Spirit outpoured
in the Day of the Lord
portents predicted&
prescribed
called out
not cast out
the
ultimate reality
sealed&consumated
an atoning sacrifice
saving mercies
grace given
an expectation
engrained
in penitence& prayer
a focus fixated
cause with effect
in awareness of worship
interlocked
in perspective
the faithful restored
fresh
with abundance
of spiritual joy
affirmed
in a unique reality
of
deliverance&due reward
where acacias abound
before the Lord's overflowing
waters of life
a reasoned restoration
seasoned
in the coming of His day
in the midst of His people
inescapable
irresistible
an inheritance
to claim&
enjoy
Security. Health. Dignity. Life.
Nothing remains, only strife.
Lost, robbed, taken with force;
Cruel, wanton, with no remorse;
Reason, logic, sense cannot dispel;
Offering only, a glimpse of Hell.
No true God, can allow such evil to exist,
Spewing injustice, with an unrelenting fist.
We must be on our own, without a god,
We whisper with, an affirming nod.
Bad is evil; good is love.
Our feeble wisdom, tells us of above.
The One who was, is, and always will be,
Sees things differently, than forever will we.
If we were all knowing, we would understand,
Infinite blessing is given, with an open hand.
Evil and love, products of free choice.
In action, in thoughts, even in voice.
Labels of earthly bad is included in this.
Oft, our thoughts here create the abyss.
Growth and faith strengthen with pain,
Bringing forth wisdom, and heavenly reign.
Blood, sweat, tears outpoured,
Lift us higher than heights, ever soared.
We pray we could know, what we will truly know then.
Until our death comes, we share the fate of all men.
clothed in drama
a pentecost poetic
chiastic
three stanzas long
the Spirit outpoured
in the Day of the Lord
portents predicted&
prescribed
called out
not cast out
the
ultimate reality
sealed&consumated
an atoning sacrifice
saving mercies
grace given
an expectation
engrained
in penitence& prayer
a focus fixated
cause with effect
in awareness of worship
interlocked
in perspective
the faithful restored
fresh
with abundance
of spiritual joy
affirmed
in a unique reality
of
deliverance&due reward
where acacias abound
before the Lord's overflowing
waters of life
a reasoned restoration
seasoned
in the coming of His day
in the midst of His people
inescapable
irresistible
an inheritance
to claim&
enjoy
On the day He died, I felt such shame, quiet with remorse—too broken to name. Why did I follow the crowd of worldly men, mocking, scorning, spitting on Him?
I was the reason He suffered that pain, I searched for comfort, but guilt would remain. I couldn’t eat, nor close my eyes to sleep, knowing He was gone—my sorrow ran deep.
When I had no one, He cared for me, But I was too hardened, too blind to see. When others ridiculed, He never took part, every kind act came straight from His heart.
He loved both the rich and the poor, He restored the broken, healed the sore. How could I have been so prideful, so blind? So cruel in spirit, so careless, unkind?
Sadness and guilt clung tight to my soul, Wishing I’d taken that cup, paid that toll. Why did I point and shout, “Crucify!” Condemning the Lamb—the Most High—to die?
Oh, my Judas heart, what have I done? I betrayed the Christ, God’s only Son. Ashamed of what I witnessed that day, I wept and wilted—my heart gave way.
Through darkened hours, the sorrow grew, until I knew what I must do. No longer did I wish to live, My broken life, I longed to give.
Head bowed low, soul torn apart— I knew what I did in my sinful heart! Sighing, I lifted up my tear-streaked face- a luminous figure stood in that place.
Could it be Him? A dream, a sign? I longed to talk with him and cry! I knelt with falling tears, too ashamed to speak, But He looked with mercy—I felt my knees go weak.
He showed me His hands—nail-pierced, divine. How He still loved me, I couldn’t define. I couldn’t face what I had done... But He held me close—I was forgiven by the Son.
He said He loved me, and all men still. That He obeyed His Father’s will; That all might live—redeemed, restored— Through mercy poured and grace outpoured.
Not sentenced to Hell but, forgiven. To be with Jesus, always and forever in the Kingdom of Heaven.
clothed in drama
a pentecost poetic
chiastic
three stanzas long
the Spirit outpoured
in the Day of the Lord
portents predicted&
prescribed
called out
not cast out
the
ultimate reality
sealed&consumated
an atoning sacrifice
saving mercies
grace given
an expectation
engrained
in penitence& prayer
a focus fixated
cause with effect
in awareness of worship
interlocked
in perspective
the faithful restored
fresh
with abundance
of spiritual joy
affirmed
in a unique reality
of
deliverance&due reward
where acacias abound
before the Lord's overflowing
waters of life
a reasoned restoration
seasoned
in the coming of His day
in the midst of His people
inescapable
irresistible
an inheritance
to claim&
enjoy
When we so chose, to manifest on earth,
Stirrings of love divine, brought forth a pulse;
Our innate aliveness, bubbling with mirth,
Humming resonation with God’s impulse,
Feeling by touch, each offered sensation,
In playful, blissful, childlike innocence.
Heart outpoured joy in spontaneous verse,
Soul aligned as one with all creation,
Dwelt in glory of God’s magnificence ~
Exuberance had no need to rehearse.
Our body had it’s need, fuelled by greed;
Gripped by desire, our mind was in a fog.
Stirrings of ego, soon started to breed,
Boon now bane, tail began wagging the dog.
Baton of awareness shifted to mind.
Insentient to love, our heart grew cold,
Enslaved by lust, we had nowhere to hide,
Bound head to foot in ego’s ruthless bind.
Love became a trade, soul to devil sold,
Our heart contacted, though God dwelt inside.
Back to the start, the time our soul was free;
By God’s grace, we melded head with our heart,
Throb of love as conscience, our referee,
Soul’s radiance restored as work of art.
Love in love with love offers no excuse,
Beauteous, all embracing, lyrical.
Bubbling effervescence is it’s delight;
Presence then succumbs not to ego’s ruse,
An epitome of God’s miracle,
Love drenched soul again glows as living light.
10-May-2022
10 syllables per line ~ HMS
Rhyme pattern: ababcdecde fgfghijhij klklmnomno ~ Rhymezone
Grammar ~ PS
Theme: Love
Form O- Ode- New poems Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
In shadows she wandered, a heart in despair,
For love's cruel embrace had left her threadbare.
Failure upon failure, the scars deeply worn,
A woman once vibrant, now tattered and torn.
Each stumble, each heartbreak, etched in her soul,
She yearned for a love that would make her heart whole.
But doubt whispered softly, like a lingering pain,
"Love's sweet illusions, will they come back again?"
Years turned to seasons, the hope grew so dim,
She questioned if love was a tale she'd never win.
Yet fate has its way, weaving stories untold,
And love, like a comet, will not be controlled.
In a moment unexpected, love's path crossed her way,
A spark in her eyes, as doubts began to sway.
This love she'd been dreaming, against all odds found,
She clung to its essence, her heart tightly bound.
In disbelief she stood, with a trembling heart,
For she had known love's touch, but it tore her apart.
But this time was different, a flame pure and bright,
She vowed to protect it, with all of her might.
No longer afraid to embrace love's embrace,
She cherished the moments, in their tender grace.
Through valleys and mountains, their souls intertwined,
She held on to love, her doubts left behind.
For what was once lost, had now been restored,
In the depths of her being, love's essence outpoured.
She refused to let go, not for a second in time,
For this love, she knew, was eternally divine.
So she danced with abandon, in love's warm embrace,
With scars as reminders, of strength and of grace.
For the woman who faltered, in love's cruel past,
Had found her redemption, a love meant to last.
SERENDIPITY
Serendipity, a promise of destiny,
In the middle of the night, you dream,
You cry every time, for the revelation to find,
God’s promise, Word spoken, dreams dreaned.
Is this finally my day, tears will be wiped away,
like the day of love finally appearing,
Lonely hearts reunite, against all odds despite,
Tests and trials like the burns of a searing.
It began with a spoil, words sown in the soil,
spoken within little ears, outpoured,
Overtime years throughout,
questioning character and doubt,
tongues burning our forest in the name of the Lord,
Outside looking in, where did it all begin,
upon a man, his son and his wife.
Casted aside, and in for the ride,
Still would never trade or despise,
one day, of his life in Christ.
Unspoken grudges and blame, though loving the same,
family scattered, by events unreal.
Crucified behind closed doors,
praying and pacing the floors,
for the warmth and love one can no longer feel.
Then finally serendipity, days of destiny,
The evil days, to never return.
Pictures of family now stored,
though lovingly adored,
reflecting love with a memorable burn.
Remember, gifts of love, weighed in the balance above,
God knows the entire truth of your story.
God hears every Word, Holy Spirit little bird,
Conversations recorded in glory,
Serendipity, pray His will be your destiny,
Touch not His anointed,
whom God hath approved,
God doesn’t need your endorsement,
so reserve the resentment,
Tread softly, so thy head be not removed.
An unedifying wodge of a f@ggot’s unlit f@g,
Sat upon the unbitten flesh of his lower lip.
A moonlit spotlight skittered through the skylight,
Drawn down to a randy bastard’s come congealing upon her clit.
The liquid surface of her sherry glass eyes glistened,
Alike a bloodily blotched blade, alight with a crimson sheen.
The blunted blade receding, whence her legs enclosed within,
Like an un-burly butterfly, closing its withered wings.
Frilly flames licked at the lanky tip of a bored bastard’ titular tab,
Somersaulting rivets of smoke swivelled in a dainty plume of perforated performance.
Vivid branches of blotchy blues sat askew upon her ashen flesh,
Against the glossy maroon that marred his wrinkled chest,
The uneven wash of eager flush dawned upon the flesh of his wettened neck.
Vascular roots twined with the pale pink of a rose,
Arose to unfurl from the hollow of his clavicle, up his white throat
Her palms were damp, veins unveiled beneath rancid rot,
Outpoured from her open pores.
Alight with the lilac-blue of ignited night skies,
Mightily reigned by the mid of night.
She had become a mackerel within his make believe,
Nipping at the sea front’s air struggling to breathe.
Gooseflesh rippled across her hollow breast,
Whence he advanced with the gait of his senior state,
Outreaching tobacco stained fingers, to encroach the small of their stiffened peaks, so
The hollow of her breast staggered and sought the stagnant skies.
And where in the repeating retreat of associated countenance
Her eyes crept beneath the bedded covers, in their dissociated acceptance
Perhaps to haps the coarse comfort of the eventide,
Or to suckle the succulent rays of blistering sunlight.
And whence his drawl lulled into the languid pull of slumber,
His lame limbs sought the crease between her breasts.
And whence the moon dimmed, the night-lilac of the sky,
Swallowed the ‘bundant bruising beneath her eyes.
Part 1 -complete-
With our pen we speak,
Not that our voice is raised to the peak.
The ink outpoured by Pengicians
Appears like rays of stars in the bans of magicians
Who brought the pen to the earth
With which the men have grained and breathe
The lower ones are great at lens
Crawled before but now slate the fence
The cap of knowledge from which intellectuals tap
Flowing endlessly as it crawls around with gap
The papers obey her rule
Heeding to every drop if the blue
I blaze and graze
when I smell the grains it creates
My pen my pen
Oh! I bow in the midst if flames,
I love my pen
I love my pen
In the midst of men,
Oh I raise my pen.