Long Overturns Poems
Long Overturns Poems. Below are the most popular long Overturns by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Overturns poems by poem length and keyword.
Palm Sunday, the day Jesus entered the city and was Praised by the people for his love of God, and his willingness to God.
Holy Monday, is the day Jesus enters the church and is unhappy that it is a market place not a place of worship, he gets mad, and overturns the selling tables, upon leaving the church, he curses the fig tree for not bearing good fruit, making the fig tree die instantly, this shows us that if we do not produce good people we may also die instantly, that what we do matters.
Holy Tuesday, is a day for us to reflect on the ways we are willing to serve God, how we take action to spread the word and actions needed for God, we pray, we prepare.
Holy (or Spy) Wednesday, this was the day Jesus was betrayed, by one of his disciples, he was sold out for money, this led to his capture and later death, we are reminded that all we do has consequences, that the true actions of good are the ones we need to take, and to avoid all negatives that will lead us to death of our soul.
Maundy Thursday, the last supper, the washing of feet, the service of Jesus to others, followers to serve one another in the family of God.
Good Friday, the day Jesus was killed, he walked with his cross, he gave his life for us, he was a sinless man that only wanted to spread God’s word and teach us love and service and a path home to God.
Holy Saturday, the day that Jesus lay in tomb, he was preparing to return to life, to walk alive, day of silence of reflection of Jesus life.
Resurrection Sunday—Easter! Jesus awoke from death, he walked among us, he showed himself, he told his people to spread the teachings of God and love of God, that we too will be saved if we follow him, and should follow his life’s path home to God, we do this through many ways, love, forgiveness, teaching others, patience, and choosing God.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
appetizers are not uncomplimentary
they are food for gods and primitive man.
The ape is the apex as
Blood and Oranges are exceptionally
eulogistic pleasing to the soul
Down, down, down into the darkness of memory,
Gently they go - the panegyrical, the praiseful, boastful mammal…
Pay attention to the me, in I, not the We in thy?
the human soul is the most warm thought of all.
HOW near god is such a thing,
To get me wondering if death is lukewarm, or a mutual reality.
How happy is the ape a prime mate of man!
Down, down, down into the darkness of the soul,
Gently it goes - the littler, the diminutive, nothing at all.
Nothing escapes this divinity
Or overturns this reality…
What is it that we call wisdom?
And where is it that it is found?
It is no place in the land of the living,
Nor can it be bought by the pound.
It cannot be valued with bars of gold
Nor exchanged for a weight of jewels.
For rubies and pearls, it can’t be sold;
But its fame is mentioned in finer schools.
Our God understands the way thereof,
For He knows the end of the earth
And sees beneath the heaven above,
Can weigh rain and wind for its worth.
It is watched and declared by God,
By the way of the thunder’s lightning.
Thus, wisdom is the fear of the Lord,
So, to man all His ways are frightening.
By it God puts His hand to a mountain,
Overturns it to reveal its precious things,
Makes waters flow as in a fountain,
Cuts thru rocks for rivers and springs.
By Him hidden treasure comes to light,
That no fierce animal has ever seen.
It is the wisdom given by God’s might:
A path to God known only by human being.
Beneath the torches of the reluctant angel platoon,
my eyelids leap
across the border of light
like blind creatures
digging a burrow in the bone of vision.
Here, the thread of logic frays behind the bones,
and God’s memory
shifts into the bullet
awaiting its mark.
I touch a thread of water:
prayer scolds it
with an abyssal, piercing knife:
from each droplet falls
an unborn, unworthy God.
Parables no longer exist:
the seed’s sanctuary moves
into a word without a tongue,
and the trill of a mute bird overturns the Gospel.
Once, I spoke with philosophers in their sleep,
tied their pulses above their mouths,
and blew over their dusty earth
they did not stir:
already sculptures of argument and absence,
daring to shed waxen tears
upon jaws of brass and fear.
I look into myself
as into a sealed crypt:
I reach to unlock the world’s door,
but my hand is the door itself,
and the key
a thought suspended between two apocalypses.
I pray like a stag
to drive nails into God’s temples,
to drip hope over every hell
He, from exhaustion, has left undone.
I am the bride of black silence,
when the Holy Spirit descends
like an electric lamp
over the abandoned body:
no one remembers the name of the first dream,
only a child shelters a crown
remember: his name is Unspoken,
our hearts hypnotized by absence,
where prayer becomes a scream
and truth - a shattered stained glass
in the blind man’s eye.
Corruption in the rumours and on the scenes
High profile slaps and cattle vaccines
Taxes, levies and airport leases
Pleasure decreases and pressure increases
Critics disappear in a bid to peddle fear
Rage and despair always lingers in the air
In the web of science and in the display of art
But it all meets a deaf ear and a hardened heart
Cry much tears and make much noise
But nothing under the sun presents choice
We are in the middle of a humbling occasion
Where we turn to God in desperation
We have tried change in its ranges
And for ages in sin and its wages
And the overturns have brought us to this
Where justifiers of war are men of peace
We now recall unheeded warnings
Now that we suffer squeezed earnings
But that is water under the bridge
We scale in huff the steepness to the ridge
Armed with no trust in fellow man
Neither buying his promise nor plan
And this I will teach my children
To cast faith only to God in Heaven.
K. Muitherero
Though endings soon arrest litigious wrongs,
Injustice stains without impunity,
When who I’d rather share romantic songs,
Declares to God abhorrent thoughts on me;
In days from now when Marci testifies,
That evil lurks in me, a violent man,
She’ll have to look directly in my eyes,
Where she’ll see tears that still don’t understand.
My case is strong and lacks no confidence,
For truth determines judgment’s final rule,
But justice overturns by consequence,
That comes when soulmates end their vicious duel.
I know my only choice was one to fight,
But how can love on trial make matters right?
Packaging
Odorous
Objects
Projected
People
Offer
Other
Perceptions
People
Ordain
Offensive
Philosophies
Psychological
Onslaught
On
Philosophy
Presented
On
One's
Plate
People
Occupy
Outer
Parameters
Persons
Oscillate
Over
Preponderance
Pious
Officers
Offer
Pontifications
Pretending
Offers
Outlandish
Presuppositions
Proliferations
Of
Outdated
Platonism
Plagiarism's
Only
Odoriferous
Pal
Past
Odors
Of
Popery
Prelate
Ordinations
Of
Potpourri
Pretentious
Outcries
Often
Perturbate
Picketing
On
Ostentatious
Presumptions
Purposely
Obstructing
Our
Peace
Perfunctory
Offerings
Often
Plenary
Passing
Of
Odorous
Peeps
Picking
Of
One's
Probiscis
Plugging
Outlets
Often
Penetrated
Penetrating
Observations
Overturns
Perversion
Piecemeal
Obfuscation
Overshadows
Positivity
Placating
Out-front
Of
Platitudes
Prehistorically
Outlandish
Oversight
Provided
Put-ons
Overly
Off
Putting
Previous
Outdated
Oracles
Proffered
Predestination
Overlooked
On
Prejudice
Pantheon
Of
Opaque
Problems
Conclusion:
Pallial
Overt-ers
Overpouring
Poo
Pavlov's
Over-salivating
Over
Pealing
The fall is being chased by the restless earth
Longing for self-destruct
Melting peat in soil melting contest
Bind the selected space guard
Carbon in the seepage of the earth
Mother Earth sincerely caressed him to death
His life for the carbon ascetics
To remain silent until the time comes
As the faithful lava flow in silence said
Until the time is over
Though litter embraces carbon
Lovebirds carve Indonesian forest dates
Grow all the roots to pierce
Grow a glorious tree
The sled fauna rejoices eternally
Until the virtual green flora
The greed of evil has arrived
Grind humus carbon hermit
Separate trash with iron claws
Stab until the last deep contest
Scattered swarms of carbon
Scattered with burning trash
Soaring high heats space
Forced to gather in the greenhouse
Until the threshold is hard
The heat wakes up the white hermit
The frozen one dwells at the poles of Mother Earth
Like the hell torn apart by the coldness of heaven
Melting white hermit stretches across the oceans
No need for a full moon anymore for the high seas
Where else can we knit peat?
Where else is the hornbill humming?
Where else can you make friends
Where else does the tree title point
Where else do the ants follow
Mother Earth's green carpet is uprooted
Moaning longing for the faithful
Only fog answers
Silencing forest telepathy
There is no distance between shattering and melting
Barbarism overturns manners
Unlicensed emission
Neat! Archaic anarchist party
Caress that are no longer effective
Rahara with money wins the ring
Like heaven that covers the candala
Persuade to crouch
Worship the forest eater
Neat! Rain is not fresh anymore
Slicing squat bones
Acid until the roots are sour
No more customizable blankets
What's missing are empty tones
Who leaves raindrops
Quietly bid farewell to the roar of the chainsaw
Net zero emissions?
On tons of carbon footprint
Return carbon fiber to earth's peat
Persuade again longing to fall to earth
The litter that used to be drifting slowly
Perched gently on the love of the earth
Accompany the carbon ascetic who doesn't keep his promise
I'm here
Wana Gosong, 24.10.2021
Nature’s palette of golden paints overturns,
autumn's spectrum spills on color-burst landscape.
As the heat of the summer air dissipates away
The sapphire shine suffuses the crystalline sky
Crisp breeze ripples on the gilded thicket canopy
The rustling leaves perform the last fiery dance
As the summer birds leave the nests and fly away
Pearls of dew on the meadow craft silver crown
At crimson dawn it sparkles in ethereal splendor
Wait to freeze when the northern winds will blow.
Sitting alone by the window open on sprawling lawn,
departing music of the wilted leaves I hear as they fall,
the glare of the scorching summer sun has melted,
the sign of autumn’s chromatic footfall I see beguiled.
The smoky dust screen has blown away to far horizon,
the flotilla of cotton cloud sails in the depth of azure.
Bowed down slender blades of cinnamon grass sway
in crisp air on the lap of the meadow turning fawn.
Lining the sun-burnt cinnabar garden path paved anew,
the dry trunks of the sepia trees stand on fallow ground.
The setting sun ignites inferno in the seamless satin sky,
makes surreal collage of vermillion ember blazing bright.
In lilac sunset my heart is drenched by the twilight drizzle,
soaking its glow I’ll greet the stars in pellucid autumn night.
For my freezing times in the gloom of the winter I’ll hold
the warmth of the touch of autumn’s remnant afterglow.
October 11, 2021
The final form is Free verse
Contest : Let's Mix It Up
Sponsor : Constance La France
The night closes the windows, and
The sky has become a crystal house,
Shining crystal windows,
The Moon
Has sketched through them -
Through the entire alabaster sanctuary.
A single star was sending down
A crystal cable,
And passed its plough across the earth,
Unearthing embraced bodies,
Couples chained
Around the round earth.
Their speech clung everywhere,
Through droplets of words, lost upon the earth -
The same language that stars do not touch.
And the crystal globe spun -
And the coiled bodies with it.
But the sky did not spin,
Nor the majestic stars with it –
They remain anchored,
Each with its sword of light
Plunged into the earth,
Each bound to the immense plough
That furrows our lives.
So stands time, the eternal farmer,
Stretching his seed of crystal through the darkness,
Halving our dreams and years,
With a hand that seems never to rest.
We spectate, spectral, in this dust of life,
Where love and fate share an embrace,
Crying silently while the unyielding cosmos
Continues to sing its cosmic ballad, moist with unseen tears.
Oh, divine plough that overturns kingdoms and hearts alike,
That breaks the midnight soil, turning love into a relic,
Unleashing silent groans beneath the starry canvass -
You build us and unravel us in the rhythm of a spinning sphere.
Our pairings, our bondings, walk upon the giant orbit,
Generating echoes that beat in the crystal silence of space,
And slicing the infinite shadows with every furrow.
Will the star continue to watch us,
When we, at last, dissolve into the earthly evening's darkness?