Long Portend Poems
Long Portend Poems. Below are the most popular long Portend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Portend poems by poem length and keyword.
Little brother, you're new to trick or treat and Halloween.
Mom says I must introduce you, so I'll describe the scene.
It's a scary night, and little children often wind up dead.
The danger is so great, even the sun hides his fiery head,
but just before he disappears in lily-livered fright,
long shadows announce, "soon begins the long and gory night".
Like I told you, power saws turn trees into gnarled stumps.
Dark outlines turn hunchback dwarves into giants with big humps.
Silhouettes lengthen, and they hideously portend
the gruesome ways in which young lives prematurely end.
Why would our mother want to send us out on All Hallow's Eve?
She would like to get rid of us, I can only believe.
In a week or two, she will forget both of our names.
She'll sell our baseball cards, remove our pictures from their frames,
and take a holiday in the islands of Tahiti.
'Twas ironic how she said, "have a good time, sweetie".
Your only concern is to hang on dearly to your life,
and avoid vampires, zombies and Jack the Ripper's knife.
When the goblins discover that you are on the loose,
they'll surely try to catch you and hang you with a noose.
Big brother, if by chance, they kill you, not me, on this stroll,
do you mind if I eat your candy corn and tootsie roll?
Into the magic, bubbling cauldron, I jumped in,
my mind, a cacophony of din.
I had thrown my life away.
So, this is how it would end -
into a boiling hell, descend?
When I was born, did fate portend
I would die without a friend
on this decisive dismal day.
Yet, this dreadful drop, my life didn't stop.
Instead, I rose back to the top,
and what did I see?
I hadn't, for a minute, drowned,
and, surprisingly, I'd found,
I was small and round,
a baby, pure and wee.
Washed away, my life of sin,
but memories, still dwelt within.
I could live my life another way.
I shouted with a happy voice -
for each decision, a different choice.
It was a time to rejoice.
It would be a brand-new day.
I would not have abandoned my friends.
My life would come to different ends,
and of the girl who gave my heart a lift,
sweet, Mary, kind and fair,
I would not leave her there
as if I didn't care.
I'd recognize God's gift.
But it was not how it did seem.
This potion gave me just a minute's dream.
and I found there is no doubt,
in life you don't know in advance,
and there is no second chance,
as boiling bubbles about me danced,
and my light went swiftly out.
In this little gust of a day
That happens by chance
To blow our way
We find ourselves framed
In reality’s loose knit making.
Indeed for a priceless moment,
we stand shaking.
Up to our knees
In confusion and doubt
Knowing not either,
Way in or out.
Full of hesitation
And its closest neighbor, fear.
Frozen in our tracks, forgetting to steer.
This, but a momentary
Pause to portend;
For we are everyone’s neighbor;
Everyone’s friend.
Like a cat
Our souls deserve and need
That long awaited stretch
Which serves to feed
Muscles soon prepared to spring
Then, like distant thunder
Our truth will ring.
Love will bring us home;
As crashing waves of time,
And sea of life expand to us
Each moment full of foam.
Embraced, caressed, and loved
For the gift it shall become,
Too much for many a weakened soul,
Yet far too few for some.
The price each day our toil paid
As we, with open arms accept,
The gifts before us laid.
there is no hush...when silent dreams can scream
and echo through the haze yesterdays
just like the thoughts that float upon a stream
are lost in lackadaisical malaise
no peace within this torrid kind of blue
- horizons that portend more of the same
then taunt with hints of calm where wishes flew
to where they hide - and no one has a name
a sultry sax weeps like the sallow trees
as tickled keys stall on a lazy chord -
a cloud sails through blown by a trumpet's breeze
and patience snares its improvised reward
all tangled in a thought that never ends
- that solo break where sanity pretends
By the raised light of Thor at rainbow’s end
on first calendar moons of Mars - a son
born of this Earth and Time, and I portend
a new renaissance age is now begun!
From first kicks in utero and gorged teat
till long foretokened days for all to see -
so begin uncertain and incomplete
the eternal bonds of futurity.
O babe in arms, beautiful child, my vow
is to mind and hold - to acquaintance seek,
to feel soft against mine your heart and brow
and kiss those sleepy lids and milky cheek.
So hearken when tiny almond eyes peep
papa’s birthday vows - vows I mean to keep.
Written: March 2001
Stroke Deliverance
When discombobulated, Hit the Restart Button,
Restart...Happened 6 July 2011,
Now the 7th Milestone,
Dr. Cooper rescued my life before we were to Daven,
Unconscious 5 hours, 105* F., was able to say "I was Yidden",
Asked "Did I recognize anyone?",
"Yes, Barbara! My wife Lovin'!",
"Teshukos", God has No needs but Desires to Overflow for Man,
As does Barbara! Who spent Day & Night at Mt. Pleasant,
Who'd have expected? An Earthquake! What's It All Portend?,
Also Massei we read, the 42 Journeys, this was surely One,
7, "Leave Well 'Nuff Alone!", Shabbos, 1,000 Mosiach yrs., B"H "Stroke's End",
Thank you Dr. Cooper, Barbara, Rav Shuch, I'm to be still Kickin'!!!
Autumn's desires
Your amber-umber eyes, penetrate me
as saffron sun sets on faces, ashen
Your suspicious mind raves with jealousy
as pumpkin winds chill our summers passion
your love transitions to winter's fashion.
Fire and ice keep flowing through your bold veins
Wild imaginations portend cold rains.
I dream of your ruby-red crimson lips
my mind won't rest until you have returned
the touches from your ginger fingertips
we can rebuild the bridges that have burned,
then, we will laugh at all the lessons learned
I think of your flowing cinnamon hair
mem'ries of our home, and you being there.
John Derek Hamilton
September 16,2017
My autumn approaches; with summer's end,
the burning embers of my aging dotage,
now sovereign, dominate and portend
the fading of Youth with my graying image.
How now, dear Lord, do I live, thrive, prevail,
succeed, and flourish in life's waning hours?
When fresh and young as the dew, all is well;
without a care in the world, the flowers
of our adolescence seem for ever!
But, with time, comes old age and senescence,
loss of strength and health and hale--to never
return but through rebirth and renascence.
So, waste not on me any tears of pity;
for my hope lies now in God's Indemnity.
As on through timeless time …
In early life Time seems to pass
Near motionless while hearts beat fast
In search of people, places, things
That beckon all the joy they bring;
At least our thoughts convince as such
And let our dreams portend as much -
A wistful, waiting, watchful time;
In middle life Time speeds to fast
With things to do that will not last -
"Important things" that prod us on
With press of time, now here, now gone.
Since Time is neither friend nor foe
It passes by as on we go -
A hurried, harried, hustling time;
In later life Time slows its pace
Revealing a time-honored face
That sees days passing day-by-day,
A routine part of Life's great play;
But Time takes all within its stride
As we endure, as we abide -
A patient, passive, pensive time;
It's Time that fools us without shame -
It calls to us, it knows our name,
And spurs us on without regard
In timely press, now soft, now hard.
Time holds us in its timeless ways
And uses up our timebound days.
Strange creatures in the night descend
Waiting for death, in winged flight.
With banshees wailing, Fates portend
Another star will shine tonight.
Dark forces now by sorcery
Decieve, and try to steal a soul.
Eternal flames of misery
Shrouding death, by hyperbole.
Starlight shines bright, clouds disappear.
Amazing Graces gently pray
Life after death, we should not fear.
The hand of reason shows the way.
Her finger points towards the sky.
The firmament shakes one star free.
Then guiding death, on wings they fly.
To live again, eternally.
6/ 22/ 2015