Long Persisting Poems
Long Persisting Poems. Below are the most popular long Persisting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Persisting poems by poem length and keyword.
Why am I missing you in Wyomissing
In Wyomissing where WiFi waves warp Whitman's words
I'm wiki-wishing scrolling through digitized déjà vu
Mississippi .mp3s Mississauga .gifs Missy Elliott remixes
Mishmash of missed misplaced hyperlinks missing persons
Y-chromosomes yearning in Wyomissing DNA double-helix twisting
Your LOLs a lyric lipslock softly #hissing history rewriting
From Issigeac to Missouri's twisted Twitter feed Insta-stories fleeting
Absence makes the heart grow fonder indeed™ (patent pending).
Persisting thoughts insistent as pop-up ads spam in the place where I lived
Roaming data plans streaming memes gone mad mad libs mad love
Enlisting Siri Alexa cosmic GPS Googling "how to forget ex"
To where your heart might choose to compress decompress or stay perplexed
In Wyomissing I sigh and I sit bit by bit byte by byte
Sky vast as the cloud no storage limit limit does not exist
Committing to journey's jumbled algorithm rhythmic logarithm
To find you love my heart's lost rhythm arrhythmia of the soul
Dismissing doubts like spam keep on insisting
Our love's a flame forever resisting
Extinguishing persisting through trials by fire(wall)
Never desisting crossing all area codes morse codes zip codes
Twisting paths and listless constellations celestial navigation
I'll travel far ignoring Terms & Conditions contractual obligations
Transmitting love my heart's submitting committing omitting
To find you no more words omitting remitting or permitting
So here I am in Wyomissing's embrace interface about-face
Memories of kisses a lingering trace copy-paste ctrl+z can't erase
From Mississippi to Issigeac's charm disarm false alarm
I'll roam the world semantics disarm semantic fields semantic yields
But as I search for truth's revelation information overload
A twist so dark beyond explanation quantum entanglement implodes
In my quest I find a terse text next perplexed hex
From you my love "New phone who dis" Dismissed missed kissed-off list.
In Wyomissing where dreams unravel travel advisory
I learned the truth your heart's new travel Marvel universe multiverse
My heart now shattered can't keep dismissing missing hissing
Y R U ghosting me in Wyomissing Existing in digital abyss sing
Y am I missing U in Wyomissing?
For Silent One's - Mamma Poetry Contest
Where is the love, Mamma?
Through broken Louvre blinds, you're ever watching
Rosary beads clicking prayers on repeat mode, uttering
Your plethora of Faith keeps me steadily striving
Though, frustrated when peace will be arriving.
Under cover of the midnight moon, hookers seducing
Shady men with illicit wares aggressively peddling
Of changing our situation, I'm forever idealizing.
Enduring every day's trauma, just surviving.
Seeking direction from above, when is enough enough?
Tell me, Mamma ~ Where is the love?
Collective immorality still existing.
A ticking clock morality meekly resisting
Corruption, greed, and deceit still abounding
This life where goodness seems to be drowning.
A depraved degradation of insanity still insisting,
Death, broken hearts, crime persisting
In the chaos, qualms never ceasing.
lawlessness above the muck and mire rising
At the kerbside, a holy man piously preaching
Should I turn my cheek, still beseeching
Amidst their plundering and their leeching?
NO !!
Enough is Enough ~ Where is the Love?
Beyond-repair abhorrence, I'm escaping.
Fervently, I'm hoping and praying.
Please God, Mamma, be safe while I'm gone
I'll be back for you before long
In the eerie darkness, emotions imploding
Sirens blaring, with the sound of guns exploding
My shallow breath quickening, turning back with throat thickening
All the while, I'm screaming
Where is the love?
Back through this hellhole, I'm rapidly racing
All through the panic, still hoping and praying
Please God, Mamma ~ Be Safe, Be Safe, Be Safe
Neon blue-red lights flickering and flashing.
Through my open front door, I'm madly dashing.
Looming through the haze, I hear them saying.
'Sorry, Miss, yet another random shooting
Your Mamma just got caught in the cross-firing.'
The last thing I hear is my own voice crying.
MAMMA ~ THERE IS NO LOVE! THERE IS NO LOVE!
I am the greatest adventurer the world will ever know,
Just take my hand and off we'll go.
I have been to the mines of Moira,
To the very center of paranoia.
I have been to London and France,
I highly recommend it if you get the chance.
I have been on crime cases that would make your skin crawl,
I have spoken Elvin, Dwarfish, and with a Southern drawl.
I have traveled the world and have seen what only a few can imagine,
I have visited times of great plague and came back without a single contagion.
I have been to the great city of Oz,
Over and over I have fought for the rebel's cause.
I have sailed from sea to shining sea,
I have been imprisoned, I have been set free.
I have been to the Emerald Isle,
Been paddled on a throne across the River Nile.
I have battled fallen angels and demons by the ton,
Never giving a second thought to safety, never feeling an inkling to run.
I have met fantastic creatures far and wide,
With a few persisting I should be there bride.
I have fallen in love by the light of the moon,
I have had death promised to me sooner than soon.
I have given in to the monster within,
I have loved women, I have loved men.
I have learned how to be docile, I have learned to be a fighter,
I have learned when to loosen the rope, when to make it tighter.
I have learned when to die, and when to kill,
When to yell, and when my tongue should be still.
I have lived by lakes,
And felt winter's first snowflake.
I have lived in castles and in shacks,
I have fought the law and fallen through the cracks.
I have lived in mansions on hills,
I have watched flowers bloom on naked window sills.
I have traveled to planets people didn't know exist,
I have accomplished every single item on my bucket list.
I have visited the moons of Jupiter and Mars,
I have suffered both physical and emotional scars.
How have I done these impossible things you ask,
It was far too easy a task.
I simply opened a book and broke its spine,
Closed off the noise of the world, and opened my mind.
Tonight there is no telling where I will go or what I may see,
But you are more than welcome to come with me!
Although a withered tree possesses a charm of its own,
aside from elegance, what should this old man do,
because not even possess a taste of ordinary
but he is the man of base, the incarnation of disgust.
If wrinkled face covered with ugly age spots,
clumsy shaking hands with swollen finger joints,
mucus filled clogged throat with foul breath,
arched stiff body with fetid body odor,
are all for the aged, with what shall we distinguish the means of life.
If the point where the word beauty no longer bears any meaning
to an old man anymore is the place for him to roam
stepping on the rays of the setting sun with remorse,
he should, if not all the truth, at least sustain empty mind
in his stiffening body, rather then spread bad breath in the air,
that may be caused from the curse he made to the world,
piles and piles of bad mouths he made to harm others,
and ill wishes he made from envies toward neighbors with his
small but destructive tongue, rotted and gives off the stinking odor?
The offensive odor from the body
may also be the same as of the foul breath, because it caused
from contaminants polluting the body from taking a bath jumping into any water
if he sees one on the roadside.
If there is an easy way out or shortcut,
did not give any consideration but, instantaneously,
took this easy way.
If he finds an empty space,
not even a moment of thought, rushed to there,
sat, laid and rolled over to enjoy the space of his own.
Since wrong cannot last long
he shouldn’t see, hear or speak anymore
but leave the world without an apprehension of others.
Nevertheless, what shall the old man do!
Because life is a cycle of retribution
and is the reason he is still breathing.
And because he is breathing, he undergoes never-ending torture
suffocated by his own body odor that became an intolerable reek,
groaning for persisting pain twisting stiffened body,
while he continues seeing, hearing and mumbling.
I can’t breathe
still in my shackles
no chance to escape my isolation
cries of anguish emancipated
from an awareness that is unfree
the stain is but human made
a long history of human trade
Humanity dehumanised
and put to shame..
I can’t breathe
air is not for free
I have to pay the fee
the earth does not to me belong
It is not my right of birth
as if my breed had done something wrong!
for water, I have to dig wells and pits
as I am denied rivers, lakes and seas..
what shall I do to stay alive?
peel my skin!
for you to admire my drive?!
How would I,
hate, contempt, intolerance.. survive?!
I can’t breathe
deep are my roots
my heart, a mine of diamond
why don’t you see my immense wealth?!
why do you still confiscate my breath?!
and deprive my six and five
of a mundane dream and desire
of being decent and upright
why I have to pay a disastrous price?
my own flesh and blood a sacrifice!
I can’t breathe
Humanity still can’t breathe
a “house divided”
souls of shades moaning under sins weight
a sacred “eternal Truth” deafened
unfree souls kept pending
a body bleeding
a severe infection persisting
In need of breath, Love and Trust
I need to seal my chest bruises, heal my tortured soul
and regain my Oneness
my cause is just.
I can’t breathe
Long ago, a man named human had a dream
the emancipation spirit into his mind remained seared
“Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness”
in the promised Earth with a mine of Justice
“Justice, a reality for all of God’s children”..
Now, it is high time I won back my right
and freedom I could breathe
I have a mission beyond what you see of my skin
let me breathe and unveil the beauty within
I Can’t Breathe
A song of a poet
as peace deserted my mind
and ache resided in my heart
My words that couldn’t remain silent
flowed to reach your Hearts.
* My humble work is a voice I couldn't suppress and I wanted to share with my dear fellow poets and friends on Poetrysoup in the contest sponsored by Richard Lamoureux but couldn't compose it in time.
June 17 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Psalms 21-25
Key Verse – Psalms 21:13 Be thou exalted, LORD, in thine own strength: so will we sing and praise thy power.
FAITH IN GOD WHO IS EXALTED
God is exalted through His strength He manifests daily
As He presents His might to us tremendously
Indeed assuring our faith of His presence wondrously
With His providence and protection always guarding us ceaselessly.
God is exalted through His granted eternaI salvation
As He reminds us not to lose our joy because of transgression
Indeed upholding our faith by Christ’s sacrifice for our regeneration
With His bruises and wounds for our forgiveness and justification.
God is exalted through His power of great accomplishment
As He highlights His miracles against our doubt-filled discontentment
Indeed driving our faith toward heavenly achievement
With His instruction and admonition for great commission-fulfillment.
God is exalted through His praise-propelled revival
As He inspires when discouraged at our earthly survival
Indeed enabling our faith to please Him, persisting for His approval
With His favour and fervour to prepare us for Christ’s arrival.
God is exalted through His offered restoration so refreshing
As He meets us to commune with Him in His nourishing
Indeed refining our faith while listening to our prayer, never rushing
With His enlightening wisdom and correcting counsel worth cherishing.
God is exalted through His blessings of abundance
As He warns us against shallow service out of fleshly compliance
Indeed increasing our faith to cling to His ready guidance
With His Word of hope and cheer, transforming us to shine in His brilliance.
God is exalted through His peace and calmness
As He secures us while labouring in His kingdom’s business
Indeed settling our faith around His fellowship’s closeness
With His commendation and rewards to us by His loving kindness.
June 17, 2025
Growth,
For the growth of African global economy
Many African governments thought to have financial
bank which can be financing
most African mega-projects
as they don't have decisions
or holding shares in MFI bank
It seems as some western banks
failed them with fake promises
when they needed some financials
for many projects.
Growth,
They asked for the reform of MFI bank so that
African representatives may put their money
To hold shares for benefits
of fifty four African countries.
The African mega-projects which many leaders
Focus on now are
- expounding Barrage Inga in Congo river to supply electricity in almost twenty African countries.
- And modern railways from Capetown
" South Africa to Cairo " Egypt.
Growth,
Many African leaders are persisting with
the point of the reform of governments
systems as some western leaders
still thinking of neo-colonisation
whenever African matters
are discussing in many international summits.
All fifty four African countries are independent
but they don't have representatives
in the United nations security
council which is highly unlikely.
Growth,
Many African countries could be growing economically
by now but there is a stumbling block in World
oparating system.
Some Africans leaders pushed the agender
of New financial architecture where governance
and decisions are not in the hands of few people.
New financial transaction taxe at global
level whereby all the Countries will be paying
And the resources must not be controled
by the World Bank and MFI bank as
African leaders don't have final say in those institutions
So they wish an other institution of Equals.
Growth,
African youths put much pressure
on the senior African leaders to leave powers
as they seemed not working well.
Then many African leaders came out of their silence
in the recent international summits
of " Russia and France"
Thoughts about how to be adequate flow through my mind like relentless waves,
Persisting in their demands as they echo my name,
This world, a wild beast that cannot be tamed.
The weight is immense and unyieldingly harsh,
Weakening my once tested stature,
Turning me into another Atlas,
Bearing a suffering that knows no cure.
How much longer can I endure this trial?
Feeling so inherently insecure,
My life shrouded in obscurity,
Am I destined to hold on, chained by destiny?
I fear that my strength will wane,
For if I falter, I’ll drown in my sorrows,
Seeking solace in bottles of emptiness,
Quenching my unquenchable thirst,
Fooling myself with tomorrows that softly whisper sweet lies.
I must not let go, for some depend on me like Apollos in celestial dance,
I yearn for strength, for inspiration to borrow,
To continue bearing this heavy, unrelenting yoke.
In a world tangled in the net of doubt,
I carry the burden like a tree bent by merciless winds,
Branches outstretched like the arms of an invisible titan,
Each leaf, a hope waving in the winds of change.
My thoughts dash through oceans of pressure,
Where the waves of ambition crash against the rocks of reality,
Their foam, a mist of confusion and fear,
Yet beneath the surface, currents still carry dreams bound in resolve.
I often wonder if the ground beneath my feet is solid,
Or if I will fall, a shooting star, into the abyss of misfortune,
Working silently under the weight of the world,
I find strength in the eyes of those who stake their hopes on me.
Though the path is overgrown with long, dark shadows,
The inner light still flickers, fragile but tenacious,
Finding solace in the unsung songs of the future,
An unwritten poem, a symphony of possibilities.
Thus, I keep walking this melancholic and mystical journey,
A solitary sentinel of my own thoughts,
Crushed under the weight of relentless trials,
Yet always hoping for the strength to endure one more day.
Tower, buzz and scurry
Oh great resilient city
Ahoy!
Alive. Scramble bustle earth's
ethnicities
On lurid quests--
A pendulum of tantric turmoil and
Blessed harmony
Quixotic city--brash,
Sangfroid merotomized and
Chrematistic--metro nonpareil.
See a myriad melange of
Tortured splenetic
Souls and great spirits
Noble and soothfast
Great city, your hecatombs
Of underground trains
Roar scream in
Hodge-podge graffiti attire
Fat fuming brattling buses
Grunt their huffpuffs,
And nervous cars scissorcut
Impatiently betwixt tarred and
Cemented streets
August and capacious
Ferruminated grey glass and steel
Towers--Aeeries in obeisance to the
Heavens, erupt in anabasis at the azure
Pearly welkin,
Humming diapasons of marvelous
Melismatic tunes
A gallimaufry of cacaphony and
Sweet sounds--the
Great Metropolis persistently
Thrives.
Streets adorned with sylph fashion
Models, conute churls, street
recrement--dazed and forgotten men,
Enticing shuck and jive
Blandishing street vendors,
Natty brujo business gentry
With their helotry on a
Ferris wheel of daily
Triumphs and defeats and
Cheeky mendicants
Shuffle along allegro vivace
Howling chorus songs amidst a
Torrent of raining dollars and
Coins floating in the skies over
The brazen metropolis.
Snuffling restaurants like hives
Humbuzz the grandiloquence,
Pithy slang and sententious
Persiflage of the day.
A truly syncratic parley
Of passions sentient
Of crimes basilic
Of arts sacerdotal and gratuitous
Of fashions arabesque and outre
Of plays frivolous and profound
Of music sericeous and truculent
Of money pursuits solonic
Of loves ascendant and descentdant
Of rejections mournful and joyous
An e'er persisting cha-cha-cha and
Boogie-woogie of the fierce
Bustling bubbling bold city,
Pendulumming pandaemoniums and
Resolutions, day
Upon pertinatious day.
David John Hart 2003 USA
We are born into a world of sublimated madness, calculated with the precision of a broken clock,
amid the shattered stained glass of desolate factories, where the echo of emptiness reverberates,
in taverns where silence bears the weight of invisible lead,
in battles that start with fists and end with echoes of gunshots and fatal stabbings.
We are born in hospitals that seem like temples of suffering, where treatment is an inaccessible luxury,
under lawyers who demand impossible tributes, encouraging guilt as a way out,
in a country where cells are crowded and asylums closed, lost souls without refuge,
in a land where crowds raise madmen onto pedestals of fake gold.
We are progeny of the dawn shadows, destined to bear the imprint of darkness,
where dreams cling like spiderwebs in the corners of a forgotten world,
where every smile is pearled coal in the burned flames of memory,
where silence is an echo of an undeciphered past, sneaking between heartbeats.
We are born into a world unraveling like the fabric of an old tapestry, yet persisting in its illusion,
under skies laced with shooting stars, comets of unfulfilled desires,
among hopes that shatter into shards of light, blooming in dark corners,
under the weight of a crushing truth, breaking the wings of unremembered dreams.
We fade away in a world that dances on the edge of a deep abyss, a waltz of silent despair,
under the moon slipping between clouds of unease, a pale torch in the night,
and we dream, we dream of a day when we will be reborn, like a mystical tree, in the eternal forests of our soul.
And yet, in the shadow of pain, we seek sparks of meaning,
catching ephemeral glints from dust and cosmic silences,
from every sunrise, we recall the fallen leaves of hope,
for we are born and fade,
in a world full of wounds, singing the longing for a hidden world, murmuring unfinished poems.