Long Pay heed Poems
Long Pay heed Poems. Below are the most popular long Pay heed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pay heed poems by poem length and keyword.
I have said it before
I will say it once more
Everyone is saying
Praying
Believing in God is a must
In him you must trust
So much doubt going around
Unsure of where our lives are bound
The world cries out with no sound
War
At every door
So much fighting
Words like lightning
So frightening
Planes colliding in the sky
Why do so many have to die
Is it not time we ask why
Seems the Congress has become the view
Nothing new
People making laws in anger
They are the danger
Bringing us down
All they do is frown
Wanting to fight
So not right
We the people
We are the steeple
Think about us
No need to fuss
Faith is what you need
So pay heed
While you say believe in God, let your faith show
This i know
God is saying believe in you
Come together and be true
Put together your
People
Become the steeple
Oh how far you could go
It will start to show
Put aside your fight
It is only right
Work together as one
We are all but one people living under this sun
Together we can go so far
Reach any star
Belief
Not grief
The human tribe standing strong
Let's all sing the same song
Can't go wrong
In this world we all belong
You better pay heed to the Devil and give the man his dues
He's been around a long time now he's even made the news
Iraq, Iran, Vietnam, you name it He's been there
Katrina came in waves of pain and stripped the naked bare
Global warming, new age dawning He holds all the aces
He forms the plans of presidents, his form takes many faces
His truths are lies, unholy ties, to satiate the thirst
You'll run his race of greed an' hate and God knows He'll come first
The Reich had flown His colours, Genghis rode His steed
On Jesus flesh the cat did flail an' left His soul to bleed
A crown of thorns or Satans horns is the choice that's laid upon us
His trick is to remain unseen, as He daily walks among us
His numbers rise among us 18 and 666
They gather at the meeting place, to score the Devils fix
A house of white, a heart of black, power no one man should hold
The jury sits in chamber, shall mankind be forced to fold
Oh Tiber, father Tiber, to whom the romans pray
A child of light sits balanced on the scales of dark decay
The clarity of reason lies drowning in your sea
As nations gather armies "IN JOYOUS RAPTURE HE"
From dawn of time 'til present day, religious cradles shook
"Under every rock you'll find me" If you care to look
"Not in my name" Jesus cries as they squeeze His tortured soul
While at His feet the Devil holds his bloodstained, begging bowl
What is next? What remains, of the scraps from the Jackals table
Can Christ redeem us, or the Devil claim us, or is love indeed a fable
The moon is full, the tide is high, the wolves they walk among us
The innocent scream "The End Is Nigh" As the vultures prey upon us
Go struggle, battle if ye must your battles,
No consent need ye nod if ye should not,
You're not among them that for U-turn settles,
Let the whole world stay put whereso it sought
To be. Love, let it soil your snow white shirt,
To dance one's heart out no one needs a coach,
Love, worry not of that one-off vague hurt,
Dance, as if no one's out there you to watch.
Get up and pen your own little poem,
Whether or not world condescends to read,
Go to etch out your own distinct emblem,
Say what you must, let no one may pay heed.
So here’s that little poem, dear readers,
That knows to settle for no reverse gears.
_______________________________________________
Sonnets | 01.12.05 |
Topic: poem, poet
Poet's note: The octave here gives an impression that one is encouraged for some battle, an expedition, or do something rare. But the sestet brings the reader down, oh all this fuss to write just a poem! But think again, is it so easy to write a first poem, or even a very first love letter?
Dwell not, O soul, on yesterday,
on sorrows past and gone -
the sketch you drew so long ago,
today may be redrawn.
Dwell not upon tomorrow's wars,
nor borrow from their pain -
that energy you need today
let not your worries drain.
Dwell not, O heart, on failures past
though each one left its scar -
rich lessons you have learned have forged
the person you now are.
Dwell not upon your victories,
for those shall also pass -
let not your pride construct a shrine
to trophies made of glass.
Dwell not, O soul, on others' gain
nor envy those with much -
contentment, paired with gratitude,
brings peace no wealth can touch.
Dwell not on anyone's downfall
as though it lifted up
your own estate; we're siblings all
and drink from the same cup.
So what is left, O soul - where does
the prudent soul pay heed?
Become less of a taker
always give to those in need.
Which seeds are we to plant
upon this plot of ground we plow?
Sow seeds of love, be brave, and dwell
in the eternal now.
Written 6 Dec 2020
Balloons, bolix!
A ghostly flight…
A fight for airspace…
So much air…blowhard.
To sail the seas of America’s skies…
Look down upon the stretch of land.
It landed,
on the eyes of the Montanans.
Balloons, buffoons!
A clownish cloud
passing off a Casper-guise.
A surprise visit from Uncle Xi.
Tea cups fragile…weather balloon,
my $@#.
Balloons, BS!
Talk talk talk
of the atmosphere,
holding the rotund idol up there.
He won’t fall from his pedestal
on his own.
Balloons, asail!
Assailing, assaulting,
insulting. Assyria &
Babylon held ear
to the breakdown
of God’s people
elsewhere.
Balloons, bah-humbug!
Best pay heed.
Don’t get bested.
Poke holes in the intentionality.
2/7/2023
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
"The Devil's message"
--BlossomMonyei--
I have made money a focal point
Ambition is all you'll chase
You'll work hard just to live soft
I'll weaken your faith, trusting is of no use.
Beliefs differ
I had divided the world into segments of religions.
The truth hidden, a wolf in sheep's clothing.
My deception lots will fall for.
Pleasure, Ignorance, Wealth,
They'd stand in your way of knowing the truth.
Is there anyone that won't pay heed to these desires?
The world is mine and will stay under my devilish grin.
For the saved ones
I have no power over.
But being in this world they're still in my cage.
Beware, the devil's message.
#blossommonyei
#liberiapoetry
#WeeklyContest
Liberia Poetry Association.
Voice of Liberia-VOL
I'm swinging on alcohol ,
Puffing smoke from day to dawn ,
Locomoting up steets to downtown,
Inquisitoring for that one pill .
Such pill to avail me sleep
But the doctors say they have such prescriptions .
I wake up everyday with chiliad of declinations ,
Accompanied by a storm of gazillion wishes ,
But still, this life keeps going .
I'm no longer myself no!
my gullet always craves to deglutite something ,
In the greeting of the sunlight
And the dawn of midnight
Who am i really ??
I once took a stand in life ,
Saw myself in such perfect family kind ,
But it seems to me ,i'm just against time .
I looked while my companions dying,helpless
I failed to pay heed at each funi ..
I got broken relationships,
But still i fail to fix ,
Now i got some bad habits i can't modify.
Such plane of success once booked , crushed in the middle of nowhere .
Today im here chasing this , that and the next after ,
How about this disease eating me in inches avery day ,
And still,the insomnia has no mercy for me .
I act smiley with such big belly
Wearing white teeth that speak hello tunes
But im dying ,slowly
Alone ,with nobody noticising
Who Am I,really ?
In my head there is
This evil, wicked plan
To take once was his
And show he is not a man.
This fool has nary a clue
On how to treat a lady.
His one chance he blew
By acting all shady.
This southern belle
Kicked him to the curb
And now he has his hell
Ne'er again my life he'll disturb.
A man is what I need
Not a little boy
So please pay heed.
A man to be my toy.
A man to be there
A man to help me
A man that will share
A man that will agree
A man that is a man
Who wants me for me
Who wants me in his clan
And from trouble not flee.
But he was not the man
For he was just a coward
That at trouble ran
When he was overpowered.
Glad he is gone
Glad he will not be
My new dawn
Nor the one for me.
We poets have a coven where we write our sins. Bewitched by the entirety and stringing words in beautiful threads of our own possibilities and what-ifs of the future, we fret, singularly, on a piece of paper. We hide our words between another few words that make everything seem hollow when in reality we are mellow and broken by the ghosts of our past. And the blurry waves of hope pass by our shore so we hang a little tight, even when everything gets hazed. We slip through cracks of our own imagination when the 'light at the end of the tunnel' is only an idea for the fools, we know the truth. There was never a light we broke the walls ourselves.
We love a soul and trade ours for theirs. The pages of our deepest fears are stuck with the ink made from our blood and tears. As ghastly as it sounds, it becomes our reality. Whether on paper, on a Microsoft Word file, or in the secret of Notes app- a writer always bleeds. A poet with no one to pay heed, to their words. Only understood my the gravest hearts. A single piece of parchment hidden beneath the deepest corners, lurking in the shadows of our broken bones and hurt that burnt us whole. Breathing is a sin to a tainted soul. Will it ever be okay?.. How would we know? So we form a coven where we write our worsts- the transcripts and the manuscripts sealed shut, only to be opened by fools who know what's what.
The poet in me has run out of blood
My veins are dry and full of dust, from my ashes
The weight of this stone-hearted world crushes my soul
Like an inch to death, the flowers don't have a root
There isn't a home, for my words and my wars
I wait restlessly
For fate, to do its magic
In reality.
Luminary Visions
Automatic liberty for one who has been incarcerated
Technocratic synergy that evolved to be automated
Enigmatic creativity which is overtly animated
Charismatic sensibilities that are recognised and celebrated
Amazing grace just pouring down from a twighlight sky
Stargazing at space as the question of origin comes out as a “why”?
A blazing face hot in disgrace about to suddenly die
While the grazing poor are dressed in broken lace and caught up in a politicians lie
Miscommunication at the place of education while the illiterate learn to read
Defamation of the current administration as the population articulates what it needs
Condemnation of the newest correlation that is necessary to feed
Exclamation of fascination as the people refuse to pay heed
I can see this microscopic look of fear inside your eyes
If it weren’t so clear I would tell you that there is no need to hide
But I can only add that your feelings are always justified
There’s a place for you among it all that you can always reside
Sanctuary at the latest state to take a stand
Extraordinary instances as I extend my shaking hand
Diversionary distances that remove the people from their land
Luminary images that allow the vision to remain grand
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz