Long Possession Poems
Long Possession Poems. Below are the most popular long Possession by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Possession poems by poem length and keyword.
Regardless of our faith, in Love we can believe,
For Love's within us all, if we choose to retrieve.
Should we choose to leave Love in a dormant state,
Then we invite into our heart the bitterness of hate.
Those who believe in the power of Love,
Radiate and spread around all the beauty of.
Those who deny Love to flourish within their heart,
Spread misery around, since it's all they can impart.
We have all been blessed with the greatest Gift,
Though some choose to away from Love, drift.
The presence of Love or not is always crystal clear
In how we treat others; how others we revere.
Love is not selfish, cruel, apathetic, unforgiving;
Does not embrace greed or a miserable way of living.
Instead, Love is selfless, compassionate, and kind,
With consideration for others a natural state of mind.
Love is not ego serving, boastful and bragging;
Doesn't tune out a guilty conscience nagging.
Instead, Love is humble, modest, and reserved;
Accountable and accepting of what's deserved.
Love is not jealous, envious, resentful, or bitter;
Nor shallow, spineless, a flip-flopping fence sitter.
Instead, Love cultivates virtue, values, and integrity,
Making real in oneself a comfortable place to be.
When, our Gift Of Love, we cultivate with care,
We then reap to scatter Love seeds everywhere,
Always hoping they'll take root in another's garden bed,
Where there's being tilled the opposite of Love, instead.
When in our hearts we grow Love, we never have to feel
Afraid that another will come along and from us, steal
What we are growing and therefore, in possession of,
Because all they can take from us is some of our Love.
Once in the thief's possession, Love can only grow,
Infiltrate and change the current seeds they sow.
So, when we give the Gift Of Love and without request,
We can know in our heart we have given the very best.
In this day and age of money taking precedence,
Love is still free to receive and to dispense.
Love cannot be bought nor can Love be sold,
Making the Gift Of Love untouchable by gold.
We need not save our Love for special times and places,
Just for special occasions and to gladden special faces,
For the magic of Love is released every time we give
And multiplies within us when the Gift Of Love we LIVE!
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2017-12-24 16:52:00 (EST)
All rights reserved.
How long will this suffrage last?
Painting the dark picture of a darkened past.
My people are supposed to be blessed,
But we are cursed in this foreign land.
My people are supposed to be royalty,
Yet we are slaves.
The seed is supposed to grow higher and higher,
But yet it withers away like a dry flower.
Just accept it, that the curse is with us,
How long will this suffrage last?
If only God’s commandments were kept,
There would be no ignorance or plague,
No death or lost identities,
No religion or slaves.
There wouldn’t be another Egypt
that would take us far away from the motherland.
How long can we survive the curse?
Will it be forever and ever?
Will our beautiful queens continue to receive pain
While baby daddies are the ones to blame?
How about the separation of our families
causing broken homes?
Is it the curse of our ancestor’s blame?
How long will we rely on this oppressive nation?
The king over us that has no regard of our struggle.
Their nation became unstoppable,
They rose higher and higher.
But my people plundered lower and lower
since the days of old, from slavery to civil rights,
And all them stories untold.
We are the tail but not the head,
We fought for our rights but we still are not equals.
How long will this curse last?
When will the shouts cry, “Free at last!”
This is the curse,
A curse where God has shamed us,
From generation to generation,
Leaving our enemies blameless,
While they steal everything we own
And make it their possession.
Our people are the creators,
Yet it is unknown.
Almost four hundred years
the plagues has risen like a swarm of locusts
Devouring the blessing because of our scattered nation.
We were like the stars in the sky shining,
Until our numbers dwindled
from the slaughter of the beast’s wrath.
If only the ancestors stayed obedient and humble,
Maybe our lives would be a blessing.
We would be living with silver and gold,
But instead we were uprooted
from the land that was promised.
My brothers and sisters wake up!
We are living in a curse.
From poverty to persecution,
Watching death catch more bodies.
Repent and renew your mind and spirit,
Follow His commandments until you reach further,
Back to the motherland that is soon to be promised.
Get out of your ways and you will be covered.
If not, you will continue living the curse.
Form:
Whenever you feel lost
Or when you feel to reset
To look back and feel refreshed
Click the “Home” key
It’ll open the door to inner prosperity
A heart filled with joy
For there’s no place like home
When you feel like something is missing
Or you are missing something
You look through the woods and see a forest
You finally decide to run away, don’t!
Click the “insert” key
It’ll make space for a missing heart
A missing soul
Or a missing leter
Then the letter makes a word whole
No need to panic, insert!
Each time you feel you wronged someone
Or there’s something making you look or feel terrible
There’s a key called “backspace”
You can hit it way back to fix all the wrongs
All the mistakes that find you mistaken
Forgiveness is such a key, no, backspace
A sure way to fix things
Anytime you foresee danger
Trouble lingering ahead, impatiently waiting for you
You know you’ll lose it
You’ll lose her, him, them
Click on “delete”
It’s there to save you from the bad
It’s not gonna happen
It’s never gonna happen
Then you know you are safe
When you feel squashed and need to make way...
When things are compressed and you need to breathe
Take a walk and visit “space”
Bet you’ll need this guy as often
Might become great friends
Don’t be afraid, you need air
And space is there to give it to you
Sometimes, in order to go forward
One needs to reflect
See what you have, or have had
Some highlights or flashbacks
Can go a long way
You need “PrtSc”, print screen in full
To observe for you what you cannot
Through the naked eye of ignorance
Reflect, it’s a good part of moving on
One wouldn’t argue that
Now and again you could use a “tab”
From one place to another
Hop forward, this is a slow train
Why not adjust and keep the format most suitable for you
This is your life, take a tab!
Whatever life throws at you
You know you are the only one
Who is in possession of this special key
It’s a key to happiness
It’ll transport you to any place you ever want to go
It’ll give you anything you need, and want
This key has a name, like no other
“Ctrl” is the only key you can ever use whenever you want to
It’s never far from you
It’s on both your right and your left hand side
Always reachable, always available
You should try it sometimes
Life can be computerized
But what if a computer is personalized?
The Boatman’s Song 2/ Many
Urvashi’s heart was aching to hear and to see the elegance
Of the boatman, while he sing those melodies on earth
A great longing started sprouting in her bosom
To visit the earth and to listen those heart touching songs
Which like a powerful magnet were pulling her towards earth
Where flows the Ganges and lives her unseen love
To control her ever increasing desire of hearing those songs
And to see that unique boatman, who lives on earth
Urveshi tried to engage her more and more
In the courtly dances and engagements for Indra
But the more she wanted to escape, more she became enchanted
By the echoes of boatman’s songs
Which were tearing her heart and
Making her mind almost intoxicated,
By the melodies of those heavenly songs
The pleasures and comforts of heaven began to pinch her
Like the piercing thorns
Even the dance and music, which were her pride and passion
Became dull and charm less in the wake of those songs
For which she was hailed
As the best among all the Apsaras in the entire universe
Heaven seems to bring no joy and rejoicing for her any more
Her dancing steps, which were the symbols of perfection and beauty
Even started betraying her
As her own heart was no longer in her possession any more
And she found that her mind and heart
Were swept away by that unseen boatman
Sailing his boat somewhere on earth
Apsara Urveshi after finishing her dance that day
Told the God of heaven, Indra
That she perhaps can no longer perform any dance
Owing to agonies of her heart and restlessness of her mind
And her legs were not in tune with her mind to perform
A flawless dance and song by which she had captured the
Hearts of all Gods and Goddess, what to say of humans on earth
She thought and thought and found that she can only normalize
If she can hear the songs of the boatman
Singing in full throated ease on earth
The echo’s of which were hovering in her mind like clouds
And twisting her heart to see that singer sublime
Ravindra
Kanpur India 5th January 2010
* Apsara = A Nymph dancer of heaven in the court of Indra as per Hindu Mythology
* Indra = The Lord of Heaven as per Hindu mythology
* Urveshi = One of the beloved Apsaras of Indra
* Saraswati = Goddess of knowledge, music & arts
* Jungle = Forest
Once upon a time in Erin land,
the sun smiled on the people
the rains communed peacefully with thunderstorms
Erin flowed with palm wine and palm oil,
And her children drank to their fill
Oba Adeniran, was a great king,
loved by both the gods and his people.
Providence favored Oba Adeniran
Oba Adeniran had two healthy sons.
Now, Oba Adeniran must name a heir out of his two sons,
Or, he may lose the throne upon his demise.
The happy Oba had no worries.
His two sons were hale and hearty.
Omo-oba Adedayo loved his younger brother above all;
but he was nothing like his father in nature.
To him, the throne is his birthright,
So also are beautiful women and sweet wine.
Omo-oba Adegboye unlike his elder brother, was a hater of law and lover of war.
He too wanted the throne and so spilled his father's blood,
Somehow by providence, his mother and brother escaped.
He’d crossed the thin line between love and hate
Omo-oba Adedayo raged with vengeance.
He must avenge his father and reclaim his rightful throne
He rallied allies and built an army
His mother scraped her knees, and washed his feet with warm tears of love
But he won't yield to her plea for peace and truce.
It's better to forgive and rebuild, than to revenge and perish, she warned
Too late, the battle had begun.
The two princes came upon themselves
One fighting a just course and the other fighting a lost course.
He who lived by the sword, died by the sword
The good prince defeated his younger brother, and reclaimed his possession.
The queen mourned for months.
Husband and son dead, yet the throne lived
The victorious prince celebrated his victory with wine and women.
Thence, the die was cast, he must be crowned.
But then, tradition must take it's due course.
No coronation for a king who has no heir.
Omo-Oba Adedayo must beget a heir
Years upon years went bye, but no cry of a baby
Alas, Omo-oba Adedayo has a dead manhood.
A disease, his souvenir from women and Alcohol.
Now, the crown must move on, to another bloodline.
And it happened once upon a morning
Erin land awoke to see Omo-oba Adedayo’s body dangling from a tree
A deliberate escape from the shame of failure.
Till date, no one either remembers Oba Adeniran
Or any of his two foolish sons.
But then, the crown lives on, and has never been forgotten.
(This is only my opinion, only written to promote calm discussion or debate. I know nothing, am not an expert on anything. If you are easily Religiously riled, spiritually offended, do not read this. Period.)
The Devil is smart, subtle; he can control one without the controlled being remotely aware. He can appear beautiful and angelic like, surrounded by dazzling light. He is content with making some simply complacent, not believing in his existence. Complacency means that you will not consciously, prayerfully battle negative influences in the world. He doesn’t need a lot of active foot soldiers. He can make you financially secure, a weekend content church goer, as he does many, when it prevents you from deeper scrutiny and higher spiritual growth. Complacency helps him indirectly perpetuate evil influence in the world. Pop Culture: meditation is good...but meditation should not be approached and practiced as a touchy-feelgood, New-age fad. Without knowledgeable instructional understanding of mind, body, and spirit, meditation can lead to demonic possession. When one puts his mind and body into trance, if not protected properly, if not first being in the presence of God (the importance of understanding shallow meditation vs deeper meditation~ Omnipresence) one opens himself up to demonic possession. Possessed often do not know it. It’s very seldom like the movies. Psychic powers, psychic centers of the Cosmic Form, should not be stimulated unless one is totally prepared to become a priest of God, totally committed to selfless service of humanity 24/7. One should not mess with Mysticism as though it were another hobby, or simply an occasional pastime. Two scoop day or one. Subjects like Kundalini, spiritual fire for purification and transformation, should not be attempted without proper groundwork, without spiritual training – dedication involving total, complete surrender to Christ Principal (Son of God), otherwise it is tantamount to giving a 4 year old a loaded gun to play with. Am I suggesting then, that one should not Meditate? Absolutely not. And everyone starts as a novice. Psalm 19 verse 14: Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” All meditation, whether done by novice or otherwise, should begin and end in God’s presence.
I was ten, my own useless nothing
No money, no food, no toys as a child could I bring!
My only possession was my little, harmless brother
His eyes so blue reminded me of mother.....
A dark storm had struck, long ago that eve
I still remember the words "Sorry there is nothing we can retrieve.."
The house lay in ruins, mixed with stone and rocks
I cried, he cried, and I gently brushed his blonde locks!
Mum-dad lay somewhere, down-below the scattered lawn,
Oh! I still remember how they pushed us, out-safe that stormy dawn!
No one left to love-cherish, no one to simply care,
No one to pass a smile, to feel what we bear!
I had sworn that dreary night
I would be his dad and mother...
A light made my world bright,
My brother, Oh! My brother.
It did not take me long to get,
That world was thirsty for tears,
Not those of joy, of laughs or smiles
But those of your darkest fears!
The forces took us into custody
Aunt Anne owned us then
Dark, small, abode of dust
Our new room was more of a den!
But as long as she loved us
Or rather did pretend
I thought I wont make a fuss
But the trouble for my little one had to end!
I made the fire, did the dishes
Cooked the food and fed the fishes
I cleaned the bathroom and all of the mess
I adjusted, but she made me suffer- an year with only one dress!
She would scare John, my lil- snow
Made him stay up for late
No school, no games
She scraped my teddy's fate!
I knew this had to stop,
I felt the need to do..
Then an idea struck
And my eyes shone their brightest blue!
It was the same night, same storm
I dreamt of how our world had torn
A knife in my hand, I headed to the lawn,
I had to do that just for my John!
The clouds growled, the winds dwelled...
My mistress yawned, my way led!
I screwed the knife through her waist,
Twisting it for end of the wild
She turned behind, in quite a haste
I drew back, her smile was mild!
She bowed down, to my surprise
A feel of shame, did sure arise
This one thing- future did I dread
I took my brother and far I fled!
They still look for the killer
Me, it was! Oh such a thriller.
Guilt still feeds on all parts of me
But my angel sets me free!
This was MY story to mourn
I swear I could have sworn
There will, sure be one bright night,
When I will bring this crime of mine in his sight....
The cloud rained heavily on the boy, it stayed a while.
He tried to find somebody to help, but did not know the number to dial.
He stopped playing his beloved guitar,
Each dark cloud that passed him left a massive scar.
With the black cloud obstructing his view of outer space,
He was no longer able to rest in the puffy white clouds with his leg brace.
One night, a terrible feeling all over his body left him tossing and turning
A chill rolled up and down his spine, he woke up to his phone ringing and he started vomiting.
Kneeling over the toilet bowl, half asleep and fully confused,
He just knew something terrible had happened, this black cloud left this boy bruised.
The boy answered the call.
One of his good friend’s was found dead in the middle of the night they said.
His body fell against the bathroom wall and started to bawl,
He felt this coming with every toss and every turn that night.
The boy had the worst kind of blues so the boy and the girl went for a cruise
They did not know they were headed towards terrible news.
Stopped to get gas along the way
The boy started pondering if happiness is something he will ever find.
He thought his eyes must be playing a game with his mind,
He never thought he would witness a friend of his intoxicated to the point they were blind.
The boys’ friend drove head on into his most prized possession, his truck.
His optimism had already grown distant; his coat is no longer weather resistant.
The black cloud flooded his head with darkness; the boy knew it was no longer worth fighting.
The boy who was already weak from the clouds wrath,
Lost all of what was left of his hope; his mind was aiming to the most negative number in
terms of math.
The cloud rained heavily on the boy, it stayed a while.
He tried to find somebody to help, but did not know the number to dial.
The girl stayed optimistic, to this day she remained realistic.
Tries everyday to rid these clouds and help him from growing more pessimistic.
Tries hard to help him face the day and look beyond,
She is afraid of losing this boy and their extraordinary bond.
Using her knowledge and strength, she constantly tries to erase his negative mentality,
And fill that space with pieces of hopeful and positive reality.
But the cloud weighs more than he can take.
He believes the rest of his life is at stake.
I have heard promises made to me or someone else all of my life, and it's difficult for me to understand what all the promising is about.
I tell you, I do not recall ever making promises to my kids when they were growing up, and they were just fine with that. If I said it, they simply believed it; and if for some reason I came up short, they still believed in me.
Now, I understand if someone like God makes me a promise because He has the ability to keep a promise no matter the situation. If He makes a promise He never has to offer ifs, buts, or I'm sorry's, if He could not make it happen; and I think it's because He knows that, no matter what, He can stand up and deliver; and because it is absolutely impossible for Him to tell a lie.
For a good period in my life, I was in possession of what is known as 'A Promise Box'. In this box were hundreds of promises from the Bible that God has made to his children. I do not remember what happen to my promise box, but I understand the whole idea.
Now back to us humans. Why do we even bother to make promises? Why can't we simply say 'yes I will', or 'no I will not'? It should be clear that I will do all in my power and good intention to make it happen. But on the other hand, I'm only human, and I control so little of this universe and all its realities. So why should I make a promise that you will 'hold me to the fire' about if I do not keep it? Please! How about a little more space, and a lot less stressful pressure?
I will not name the brand, but I'm holding in my hand a 12oz size 'bean bag' with the imprint of a 104 worded promise entitled "Our Promise". The last
15 words of their promise: "That's why_____ can promise something you just can't get anywhere else: The perfect cup".
Well, I feel it's only proper that I close by promising you two things: We mortals will never stop making promises; nor will we ever find 'The Perfect Cup' of coffee.
04112017 PS Contest, Form P, Broken Wings
My 'theme choice' is the word, Promise
Any one can be super
Try being a hero
Let me explain
You initially lose more
Than you gain
But the strength you carry
Makes you gain
And you have no room left to complain
The outcome the Impact
The way people react makes you proud
Saving the world one person one family at a time
During these unpredictable times
Giving peace and faith
That we can still run this race
And you did it so well
With dignity and grace
We face so many things
Some never have been heard
You hold on to his Word
Have you heard
Have you seen the light
In individual eyes
To know that like bread
We still will rise
Not just in dough
We will rise eternally though
Touching lives who seemed lifeless
That kind of impact is priceless
Paving the way
For others
Sticking together sister and brothers
Loving one another more than ever
You see that is a power so clever
Levels to success
Giving your all trying your best
To impress
A world who has lost its value
Lost its way
Still empowering letting others know everything is going to be ok
We all are fighting our own battles
Shaking , breaking down
To a world that is no longer found
No longer bold
Government trying to have control
Stop take it back
Superhero you are on track
Be great be amazing
Be you , that's what the world is craving
There would be no one without another
Super
My heroes start lifting up each other
No matter what
Keep pushing keep pressing
One power that I hope would vanish is stressing
For it's a blessing to have something unique
As yourself
And for once you don't have to be anyone else
But this unique individual
Is a prized possession
Who has overcome overcame
Our Ancestors would be proud
For our voice to heard loud
Chad you and so many others have paved the way
Wakanda forever is what I'll say
Your message to the world
Is to be water then the seeds and the root
Be the stomp on the ground of a giant boot
Footprints are left
That we are honored to walk
You did more than talk
You lived out your vision
That was wise a great decision
Be the root, then be the soil
Be the water that boils
Be on fire
Be hot
It's our world
Give it all you got
The pearly gates you have been chosen
Rest in Power King
Chadwick Boseman
Written by: Concetta Hardnett
08/30/2020