Long Participating Poems
Long Participating Poems. Below are the most popular long Participating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Participating poems by poem length and keyword.
What happened yesterday
Can change today.
When a person understands
His" her" capacity
He "she" can not see borders
To enter some world competitions
Where racism and injustice
Are not principal choices.
Power of beauty and wealth,
Some daughters of some poor in the Competition with some daughters
Of some rich people.
Yesterday when I saw you in miss universe,
I said,"wow! Yeah, they are there
To show their beauties
As other races. "
Participating in such
Universal competition,
It is not an easy task.
From local competition to national,
From National competition
To universal competition.
To have a miss universe title.
Yesterday,
When I heard about black American women
Who won miss America and miss USA
Another black african woman who won
Miss South Africa and miss universe.
Their wins encouraged
More black women in the world
Who were discouraged
By injustice, tribalism,
Regionalism,
Corruption and
Racism in some countries.
Power of beauty and wealth,
A beautiful woman that a man saw yesterday
Can stick in his mind for some years.
Men know what they want,
It is hard to change their choices.
White man marry a beautiful black woman
" or white woman"
A black man marry a beautiful white woman
" or black woman."
Men like the beautiful flowers ...
It is their nature.
Beauty women are like beautiful
blue, black, red, rose, orange, yellow,
white, khaki, chocolate, green flowers
Every man has his favorite coulours.
Power of beauty and wealth,
The style of beautiful women of yesterday
Differ to the style of beautiful women of today
But their attractions don't change in the eyes of men.
Beauty of a woman is
A strongest magnate
Which attracts,
And captures
Millions of men
But
The wealth of a woman
Is a silent
Missile
Which terrify trillions
Of world men.
Majority men are arrogants and
They hate to be dominated
By any woman.
This piece of poetry portraying some truth,
Naked truth about small matters with
Some solutions.
Majority rich women of yesterday
Were so arrogants and
Those of these days
are still very arrogants.
Marriage of two arrogants...
Man and woman
Can not last,
Unless one of them bound.
May 5/2023
Writting for contest sponsored by
Constance la France
Theme: YESTERDAY
A Saturday morning in June on a sunny day,
three hundred villagers were in the town square today.
For two hours, all the children, each man and his wife,
made a choice amongst themselves to sacrifice a life
While the grass was growing green with the flowers in bloom,
one person in town would soon be encountering doom.
Some big piles of stones were gathered up by every boy;
Bobby Martin, the Jones boys, and Dickie Delacroy.
As mixed conversations percolated all around,
Mr. Summers and the black box were soon to be found.
This object was very old and showed much splintering,
after being used many years for this offering
Mr. Summers asked the town for a new edition.
They turned him down, not wanting to break with tradition.
With much of the ritual forgotten and not clear,
little slips of paper were placed in the box each year
Old Man Warner, the senior citizen living here
said to Mr. Adams who was standing very near:
“Seventy-seven years I’ve been participating
in this lottery for which everyone is waiting!
I tell you there’s no other way; it’s needed in June.
We sacrifice life for the corn to be heavy soon”.
Mr. Summers called by name, heads of each family;
all in alphabetical order from A to Z.
Every head of household chose individually;
beginning with Adams, and ending with Zanini.
When every man had a slip of paper in his hand,
“Open up” said Mr. Summers with modest demand.
“The paper with a black pencil mark will indicate
its holder is the sacrifice we all designate”
Along came Bill Hutchinson’s wife Tessie running late;
shocked to see her husband holding the paper of fate.
Mr. Summers asked “How many in the family?
Bill replied “Five. Three children, my wife Tessie, and me.”
Mr. Summers took the slip and put in four blanks more;
back into the black box after opening its door.
Then each of the Hutchinsons was told to reach inside.
The one holding the paper with the mark would decide.
Mr. Summers checked the papers and said with his voice:
“We have our sacrifice! Tessie Hutchinson’s our choice!”
“It isn’t fair!” Yelled Tessie, crying loud and frantic.
The people grabbed stones with Tessie running in panic.
They all caught up with her in the middle of a field,
and stoned her to death without any apparent yield!
Based on the short story "The Lottery" by the late Shirley Jackson
April 25 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on 2Chronicles 23-25
*2 Chronicles 25:8 But if thou wilt go, do it, be strong for the battle: God shall make thee fall before the enemy: for God hath power to help, and to cast down.
Lord God, You Are My Power
Lord God, You are my Power against temptations of worldly reign
Thank You for being my Guide toward Your will, devoid of sinful strain
Surely, You’re my Foundation Who braces me upon holiness-terrain
While I minister to others along tender mercy’s gain.
Lord God, You are my Power against snares of feebleness
Thank You for being my Commander along paths of holiness
Surely, You’re my Master Who deserves my praise-earnestness
While I rejoice with singing midst spirited worshipfulness.
Lord God, You are my Power against attacks of corruption
Thank You for being my King Whom I submit to with full devotion
Surely, You’re my Lord Who controls me by Your compassion
While I serve You, participating in Your great commission.
Lord God, You are my Power against threats of sorrows
Thank You for being my Leader toward hopeful tomorrows
Surely, You’re my Protector Who shields me from doubt-arrows
While I fulfill stewardship roles despite challenges’ furrows.
Lord God, You are my Power against issues of controversy
Thank You for being my Wisdom along truth-fervency
Surely, You’re my Teacher Who instills Scriptures’ inerrancy
While I pursue discipleship with Your doctrines’ consistency.
Lord God, You are my Power against guilt of shallow commitment
Thank You for being my Anchor, propping servanthood engagement
Surely, You’re my Captain Who directs toward kingdom advancement
While I share the Gospel midst soulwinning involvement.
Lord God, You are my Power* against hurts of misery
Thank You for being my Listener for my prayer victory
Surely, You’re my Supplier Who provides with Your resources’ dowry
While I trust Your assurance fully, always faithful throughout history.
April 25, 2023
Poem of the Day (POTD), April 26, 2023
This is featured in the book, Reflections on the Important Things (500+ poems on important life subjects such as nature, faith, mental health, romance, in memoriam, and humor. Paperback – November 15, 2023) by Arczis Web Technologies (Author), PoetrySoup (Author)
They all sit there lined up in a row
Not knowing when exactly when to go
Decisions are made on the image they are looking for
As the applicants mumble at the door.
Mommas got cash
Let those pass
The Agent said
Wondering if they knew how to play dead underneath the bed.
Here comes another one
Participating in the audition after getting some sun
Shez a factor the agent said and could be a fine actor
Take a picture with her in blood
And bet you bottom dollar she is not going to be a dud.
Two more come in
Being a sweet photogenic twin
And having what it takes to win
A prize which is the opportunity to hear some more lies
Maybe this is just something
Like a guy giving them a ring.
Pick up the phone
“I am alone,” she could say
About this selection process for a scene to roll in the hay
During this time when they know she is out of money
And reality states they are only there to be called honey
Having the only worry being ‘if tomorrow is going to be sunny’.
When asked to defend
Its for the men
They do state
Hoping a date will turn into a lifelong mate.
In this game where no one knows their name
One may ask about money
When the success is being a bunny
This is nothing new
In a profession that ends with “I Do”
Yes, no she is waiting for an answer
On whether she is the corpse of the principal dancer.
When she gets the green light to be in the dying fight
She gets pumped up with all the might
“How much should I show?”
She asks with a glow.
Just enough
the guys want to see your inside stuff.
Finally, they get cast as the damsel getting the gas
Ready to meet a monster with a dangerous tool
And not expecting to end up just body parts in a bloody pool.
It only takes a day and hopefully there will be pay
But if not, the picture taken could be considered hot.
Everything is fine if it looks good
Especially if the B movie talent has it all together underneath their hood.
Do not be worried since it’s just the character that is going to be buried
Then after weeks in the theater what will be sweeter
A shot on a magazine cover that begs for men to love her.
Soon the check will come
And it will be done
Once the payment goes through and she tells the one man in her life “I do”
Show Riders Have A Horse,
And They Love to Do A Course.
When They Are Done,
They Wait Around to See If They Have Won.
Blue, Red, Green, or Yellow,
Show Riders Are So Mellow.
Later in The Barn Giving the Horse A Bath,
Show Riders Are There Having A Laugh.
You See Show Riders Are Good at This Historical Game,
Where No One Is Supposed to Complain.
Building Trust Is A Major Feat,
And Showing It Off Is Truly Sweet.
Show Riders Are A Special Troop,
With Emphasis on Being A Supportive Group.
So, In A World of Hate,
Let’s Get Something Straight.
When Exhibiting Horsemanship, It Isn’t the Check,
Instead It Is the Lesson in Respect.
So, Let Those with Egos In,
And Let Them Win.
For When They Go on A Power Play,
The Show Rider Will Say,
Do Not Forget to Visit the Show Office to Pay.
One Day They May Reflect,
And Say Heck,
Those Show Riders Know What They Are Doing,
And Will Forget About Using Words Like Suing.
For It Should Be Known About the Show Rider,
They Are Not Liars.
Show Riders Stand by The Truth Never Needing for Their Voice to Hit the Roof.
In All True Honesty the Show Rider Does Not Need to Know What to Do with The Bute.
Instead the Show Rider Should Always Have Time to Look Cute,
With the Main Goal to Relax Those in The Business Suit.
So, The Next Time the Show Rider Is in The Ring,
They Will Look Up at The Queen Sitting with The King.
Reminding Them They Are Participating in This Thing,
Where Horses Have Magical Wings.
Everyone Will Clap with Class,
Acknowledging the Beauty of The Vision from The Past,
When There Was No Need for Gas.
At the Proper Time Show Riders Will Meet the Royals,
Proving No One In the Industry Is Spoiled.
The Show Rider Will Hear the Remark About Princess Anne,
Not Being A Fan.
Instead She Was the One Creating Such a British Buzz,
When She Showed Her Olympic Equestrian Love.
So, Sit Back Letting Those Who Count Their Strides,
To Handle Those Who Lied and Took Bribes.
Since It Is the Show Rider’s World That Will Make Them Confess,
Giving the Show Rider the Opportunity to Nicely Say We Need to Take Care of This Mess.
With the World Getting Colder and Some of Us Getting Older,
It Is Time for The Show Rider to Be Bolder,
So, We Can Finally Close This “Nasty Angry Folder”
Why do I miss your voice? Is it because it’s one I should, and want to hear, or am I being selfish, thinking I’m entitled by length of my years. Or is the answer within? A heart still beating, sheltering a place unaware of the distance, now existing between staying in touch decided by conscious thought. Created not by choice, but by situations we have had to face, and choices made because of them. Never explained to each other fully, at the time they occurred, or over the years, for clarity and understanding. The nature of man contributes to the lack of willingness between two voices. Putting on airs, to impress a woman, not comfortable just being himself, not revealing all, in his mind, To avoid loss of respect, and not wanting to appear weak, risking her condemnation. Not realizing this only guarantees in her eyes, he will, thus dropping the ball, from programmed ignorance. Personally, I can only hope there is help from above. I certainly need it, for the rest of this day and not just for one Holy Week on the Christian calendar, when long ago, the story goes, kindness and portrayed weakness, by another led to the ultimate price he had to pay. My errors have contributed to no longer hearing voices, once they seemed automatic and accessible without effort. Now, if I hear those voices again,now distant, unforced tears will flow, inside a cleansing vibration imparting a warm glow. Knowing something has changed beyond my control. Wouldn’t it be like all the holidays rolled into one, if our cell numbers were dialed, a few words spoken, from past residents of hearts, seemingly long ago. Emotional baggage could be left intentionally at the turnstile, lost for the chance for a new time and day. When two voices, not just one, now felt free to say, how was your day?Wouldn’t spirits lift unexpectedly? By a gesture not seemingly to hard, even after time has passed? It could be the start of something, I would come to realize, a man could actually be stronger and feel better, by embracing, and revealing,his weaker side, and putting kindness into play. Then others could would? consider, participating as a second voice, reversing reluctance and finding a way, to demonstrate any time in life, two voices reinvented, could mean, and actually be, better then one.
“But by the grace of God I am what I am…” 1Corinthians 15:10 of the King James Bible
Let me tell you a story…
It is neither fiction nor fantasy
since the main character is yours truly…
Anchored upon scriptural theology
my narrative highlights the Creator’s glory
against pride of carnal hypocrisy…
This is the chronicle of ministerial journey
commencing from momentous encounter at Calvary
when Jesus Christ set me free graciously
against sin’s grievous penalty by His love and mercy…
I was a freshman in our country’s premier university
and the Lord intervened, setting me toward what’s heavenly
though struggling, my spirit heeded to His call obediently
toward divine trek of precious, priceless legacy:
Gospel-sharing and teaching children Bible stories joyously…
With God’s compass directing along wondrous serenity
my spiritual adventure progressed meaningfully
as biblical stewardship reigned over my humanistic philosophy---
thus, enabled to choose what matters most vis-a-vis immortality
I left my prestigious college teaching job for full-time ministry
trusting the Saviour as my Master Who knows best for me…
Midst mission trips, reaching-out travels and volunteer tasks’ array
participating in kingdom-advancement, empowered through prayer-fervency
I am nurtured, nourished for life-building and care-giving simultaneously
allowing me to bloom in discipleship pursuits by His wisdom’s sufficiency
as an orphanage Mom, a learning center Ma’am, serving gladly
a values coach to police lady officers, giving counsel to live righteously
a writer of church newsletter, publishing goodness of the Almighty…
Now, I am still continuing with my journey, blest bountifully
sailing with the Captain of the sea safely
overcoming, by His compassion, doubt and uncertainty
soaring along faith’s flight majestically
vanquishing fear, misery and anxiety
hiking atop supplication-retreat mountains steadfastly
walking with my best Friend around intimate fellowship sweetly
ready for jubilant face-to-face triumphant worship throughout eternity.
April 23, 2022
1st place, "Form N - Narrative - New Poems; Theme: Journey" Poetry Writing Contest; Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 4/27/2022.
I laid me body stomach down atop a grassy knoll...
here at Highland Manor Apartments
earlier today Juneteenth 2022,
(a pitch perfect spring day)
with serious intent to read
seat of the pants suspense thriller
The New Comprehensive
A-Z Crossword Dictionary.
Invariably, yours truly
quickly experienced drowsiness,
succumbed to deep sleep
and dreamt being linkedin
with livingsocially off the grid
among ecological, liberal, social minded
people progressive in act, deed, and thought
versus participating in consumerist paradigm.
As a conscious conscientious counterpart
the missus shops with a conscience
and yours truly considers her price savvy
when she purchases groceries
at ALDI, Giant, LIDL, or other supermarket.
Impossible mission to adopt modus operandi,
whereby wife would entertain notion to husband
energy garnering fruits and vegetables
courtesy sweat equity
since we lack basic homesteading skills,
nor consider either of us
adequately financially solvent
to contact compatible intentional community
since requisite criteria
require a healthy monetary stash of money.
Unlikely substantial windfall will appear out of the blue,
nor grandiose wish to draw winning lottery ticket,
thus sobering truth to burnish marketable skills
finds me seek assistance
courtesy office of vocational rehabilitation in general
and counselor Donna Marchese in particular,
which most likely entails
securing training to learn Microsoft Office Applications.
More precisely, some familiarity exists
regarding understanding computer software
since admission of foolhardiness
now averred how countless golden opportunities
slipped thru these ofttimes sweaty fingers.
Though never successfully completed,
received funding back in the day from:
CETA, O(ffice) of V(ocational) R(ehabilitation)
twice before whereby
the former and/or latter program
allocated unspecified dollars
(poor Ray McNeil, the first OVR counselor,
whose tiresome love's labour's lost for naught)
in an effort to acquire gainful employment,
which in all honesty sabotaged
cause of that bugaboo severe social anxiety
more specifically diagnosed
as schizoid personality disorder;
no shame to admit mental health crisis.
Has society taken a wrong turn
Is there something we can learn,
From the viciousness printed by the press
To the sick trolls on the internet,
Who hide behind their computer screens
And post sick twisted things which are obscene,
In forms of posts and memes.
Meanwhile the media divides
With it’s xenophobic cries,
Full of hate and discriminatory
I want you to love not hate me,
Is this way to much to ask
That kindness and compassion should last
But anger and negativity is easier to muster and to feel,
Quick to rise deep inside and takes no thought,
So no intellectual reprises needed
Which is no suprise at all.
Why I ask do people think it’s ok to disrespect other people
In so many different ways
And if you met those who act in these sick displays,
Tend to be strangely normal by day,
When out of their bedrooms or their dark basements they come,
From their safe zone to carry out harassment
But interesting journalist who are often
Public school and university educated,
Have no excuse for their intellectual displacement,
Reporting and participating in fake and divisive news,
Trashing people’s reputations
And subjecting them to abuse,
As ordered by their oligarchy muse
Who shape the stories to direct and control societies views.
Where has our free and independent press gone
Seems now that ideal is truly now bygone.
The challenge for us who are not this way
Is to bring about a real change,
That steers people intellectually and spiritually away,
From the viciousness of hate,
To bring about a society where people care and share
And shine love and light there,
As an example of what's true and right
To make this future hopeful and bright,
So we can celebrate the power and the might,
Of standing up for liberty and people’s rights,
To be who and what they choose to be,
To live lives and hold beliefs in a society where they are free
And where people understand the ability
To use the internet to connect,
Learn to understand different cultures and creeds
And be able to share beliefs and become more tolerant
When they see that as one humanity,
That we are all different and yet still unique
And where we can grow spiritually,
Into to better people ultimately.
Carrying a sleeping baby.
Cleaning after a successful party.
Camping beyond mountains more mountains.
Playing trumpet on the streets of New York City.
Eating although the food supply is deeply compromised.
Flying with Democrats and Republicans, evangelicals and atheists.
Flying like a fruit fly that won’t quit mating.
Cool as a hummingbird in the stream’s wet spray.
Abstaining wholly, absent from worldly life.
Two dogs fighting but not biting hard.
Chanting as if the planet were mending.
Gourmet dining, devout prayer, loving Mary.
Evenings watching tv. Scotch and Star Trek.
Taking off Emily Dickinson’s clothes.
Meeting in the meeting house, arguing and praying.
Planning a legacy as if you knew enough to control events.
Pursuing happiness as a naturalist or humanist.
Spinning with the planet, performing the history that surrounds us.
Killing many Germans, saving many Jews.
Doing less until one thing’s done well.
Fainting from staring at candles through stained glass windows.
Morning, a billion trillion nuclear detonations per second warming your
bones.
Manipulating symbols, solving equations.
Disregarding tweets and facebook persuasions.
Sitting with a tiny Buddha near a rushing stream cutting a gorge.
Running, disciplining myself, making myself healthy.
Ingesting drugs, throwing die, drinking sludge.
Growing varicolored corn.
Participating in the cause because it’s impossible not to participate in
the effect.
Running over a chipmunk, groundhog or a skunk.
Lying face down in the emergency room facing doom.
Waking up Monday thinking Sweet Saturday! but soon remembering your
trick knee.
Turning the towering young thunder of my anger against my sons.
Regretting the callow dispassion with which I met my parents’ quietus.
Lawn mowing, leaf blowing, yapping dogs, napping old people.
No jets but a rooster mornings, cows and goats.
Al is painting an apartment. Sirma is cleaning the floors. Felix is taking
out the garbage.
Deciding tentatively I slightly prefer Heifetz’ to Oistrakh’s Sibelius.
No cedar waxwings, no chickadees, but beautiful moon!
If you’re alone as you get, why are you crying?