Long Pouring Poems
Long Pouring Poems. Below are the most popular long Pouring by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pouring poems by poem length and keyword.
And this picture on the wall of my heart told a story of men giving birth among themselves in the north promiscuously...
Sipping memories from the lungs of the girl child.
They were not ashamed of the little ones watching their nakedness which howled at them mannerlessly.
We bathed the oceans again and again,
We made the sand shone like the moon,
We washed the sky daily to see clearly of what the earth has in stock for us.
We painted the earth and added more colours to the chirping rainbow.
Life became wet in our palms because we saw images and figurines of women whose shinning womb were made abnormal by men of yesterday.
And mother told of an innocent girl that killed her father, mother and brothers,
She was patted by the king for doing so,
As she told this ear breaking tale,
we saw the rain emerged from the ground instead of the lonely idle cloud that watched us through different mirrors.
They said we'll live forever on paradise,
They said there is heaven and hell,
They said evil people will be punished on the last day,
They said we will burn for thousand years,
But how could a father punish his children with fire and brimstone?
How could spirit burn in a fire?
How could we tell lie to ourselves and expect the sun not against us?
We have seen cock making love to a duck and, dog to a cat, and grandma told us it was normal.
And Father told of the miseries of the black spirit in our village streams,
How pouring of libation on the family shrine brings good wife and good harvest,
how rubbing oil and wearing palmfrond on your lips wad away demons.
he said there is a third heaven above us,
He told us why the He goat smells,
He said white ghosts do fly day time; he has seen the flashes of one of them at Benin.
After Christopher, I creed,
After Achebe I loved again
After Seghor
After Wole and Niyi' folklores,
After Habila Helon,
After Chimamanda's truths,
We'll retrace this fables with a knitted thought towards strings of our voices.
How does the patient dog eat the fattest bone now?
Does the silent cock still live for a lifetime?
Mother lied to us
Father lied to us
Grandma lied to us
Grandpa lied also
A mirage formed
Teachers lied to us
An illusion created
We are not who we are through those illusion told to us through their lips.
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent.
The song of my soul, sounds like light
fading shadows in notes of joy
serenity unfolding on the hearts of glory
where He lives – in the dewlike tears,
overwhelming sense of grace
pouring over the bruised seas, skies
flooded by prayers and praise….
The stories of God – His amazing
the tones of our praise
on the rhythms of soundless nights
skies pouring out hope, joy
blessings arising in the heat of summer
while gentling melodies, rich with light
fall like noon’s showers,
on the heavy hearts, the souls
who know He is the reason for each season
He is the love that rises from the mists,
in every soul, He is the promise, the hope
the moment we can know
love is in control…
the music, in notes of purity
rare songs who remember to hold on,
love like this is the light for every man,
love like this is beyond words
it is the plan, brought to hearts
long before the world began,
love like this is the reason I breathe
the story of a man who heard God’s plan
and came to earth, through a virgin birth,
restored each of us – by His death,
rising again, fulfilling that plan…
we can seek Him in the flowers
we can seek Him in the trees
we can seek Him in the sunlight,
on the trembling seas,
we can seek Him on the twilight
on the stars and in the moon
we can seek Him in each spring,
each summer and each autumn, too,
we can seek Him…
yet we will not find Him
without a heart that is assured
He is the way to heaven
He is the light, the way and truth
He is the life of every believer
He is the love that guides us through
He is the answer to every need
He is the prayer prayed
and the assurance believed
He is a tipping balance
who offers us His never ending peace!
Cling to Him when you feel lonely
Cling when you feel like you can’t
Cling when the way is dark with shadows
Cling when you know that you’ve failed
Cling when sins seem to haunt you
Cling when the journey is steep
Cling when all seems lost to you
Cling and just believe – He is a tipping balance
With Him, you will find the purpose of this life
With Him, you will know what it is to be free
With Him, you will be saved from outer darkness
With Him, you will be changed so you can…
let go and let God, who is only a prayer away
seek Him and let Him bless your life with His grace
let Him restore you to a place where you know love is the only way!
My soul has gone through constant torment as many have come into my life for the mere enjoyment of giving me deceit. It was a long night when I saw the rain falling from the clouds outside. As it hit the ground, I heard a voice in the dark. It was the voice of a small child. I saw her crying in the rain, tears streaming down her pale face. She was shivering and soaking wet from the pouring rain. I could not let her, a small child, suffer through the night or even for another second. I opened the door and ran to bring her into the house. I was alone that night as my family was at an event I decided not to attend. The child had long black hair with highlights of red. Her eyes were red from her crying. Her clothes were soaking wet from the rain. Immediately, I went to grab a throw for her to be warm. After that, I made her some tea as I had no hot chocolate. Kneeling before her, I gave her the mug, and she took it with a weak smile while she drank. I asked her, “Are you ok, angel.” She looked up with a smile and nodded. As I turned away to get her some food, she asked me, “Are you ok?” I could only say that I was. She replied, “You don’t look well.” “A wise girl,” I thought. I told her that I was trying to adjust to being a single man with no children and the prospect of it being always. She asks why I feel this way. I tell her about how I have seen many women deny any relationship with me as they feared I would leave them once I achieved my dreams and how I had been rejected by others who saw no value in me, for they only wanted someone to fulfill their dreams. This little girl looks up at me with tears and states, “Allah has seen your struggle and has sent you a message through me. It is not to worry, as the little girl looking at you is an angel in disguise. I am your guardian angel in disguise as your youngest daughter in the future, her name is Hope. How can it be that you are here in the past then, and how can it be that my youngest would have the named the name that I would want for my first daughter? The angel replies, “Your first daughter is named Bella Maria, your second daughter is named Faith Gianna, your third daughter is named Mindi Rose, and your two sons are named Liam and Logan.
Your dreams will come true; you only have to wait a little longer. Your enemies will be at the table that has been prepared.
In an instant, the angel was gone.
LUNAR MADNESS
His thought; desire; that driving dream he knew;
so real within his heart and living soul;
the thing he took and fed until it grew,
into the part of life that made him whole;
by doing things that people seldom do
to make it real, and reach his cherished goal!
For who but fools, whose minds are now in tune,
would take a thought, and bounce it off the moon?
If given wings; by one who's gone insane
with lunar madness, loose in universe;
his wish for life would search each hidden plane,
and seek more levels where he might immerse
in pools of knowledge, cleansing every stain,
bleached on his mind by times eternal curse!
And damp with truth, before his mind can rust,
he dries in clouds of flowing cosmic dust!
His world is silent, everywhere he goes,
and dreams he holds so dear, stare silently,
at passersby, who greet him, but he shows,
no recognition to the ones who'd be
some of the ones to take the truth he knows,
and bring him back from where he's flying free!
But don't know how to reach this paranoid,
nor find the things that make his feelings void.
It's plain for them to see, he's not all there,
but lunar madness doesn't cross their minds,
and ships of soul, don't take them anywhere;
perhaps too busy with their daily grinds
to think of flying free form any care,
and seeking many worlds of other kinds!
That he has found by leaving body still,
protected by his knowing mind, and will.
He'll watch the pouring rain, and snowflakes fall,
and bolts that light the sky, in summer storm,
to see the wisdom theree within them all,
as puzzles come together and to form
a tool to shatter down his prison wall,
that's kept him from a life that's soft and warm!
But as he sees the things before his eyes,
the other part of him still seeks, and flies
so free of chains that bind him far below;
the part behind, that's waiting for the end;
or waiting for the wisdom he will know,
return of one, his kind and loving friend;
that once set free, would only come and go,
far from the one who let it first ascend!
Not knowing once he set their powers free,
that lunar madness plagues him, constantly.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
The people of this world are like the three butterflies in front of a candle's flame.
The first one went closer and said:I know about love.
The second one touched the flame lightly with his wings and said:
I know how love's fire can burn.
The third one threw himself into the heart of the flame and was consumed.
The alone knows what true love is.
Rumi
I sit alone in a silent field of fairness,
under saffron rays kissing sunflower serenity,
among dawn's daisies and dusk's dandelions -
watching buds floating away with whisking winds.
Fate does not favour my quest to soar freely.
In a meadow of humanity's betraying breaths,
our buttercup souls become ambushed by a suffocation of sighs.
When there is no justice in spiteful judgement,
visions of Basilisk slither with a deadly gaze.
Envious eyes poisoned by potions of venom,
abuse the selfless mistress of my garden's muse -
but without Eve there would be no Adam nor Eden.
Weeping on the grave of her past self,
her fatigued spirit struggles to fight and rise.
I watch darkness ascend in springtime,
when her mind portrays a veil in the misery of mist.
I feel like a helpless flame burning in ivory wax.
Untreated wounds with time festering
into an ebony existence of self deprecation.
I can see butterfly hunters with their narcissistic nets,
chasing my imperfectly perfect empress of empathy.
Her heart hungers for a plethora of petals,
to hover from a ruby rose to lotuses of liberty,
but predatory birds like harlots and hussies,
have lured her into a withering winter colony of thorns.
Sorrow stitched her eyes closed with merlot thread,
as her sanity sits upon the edge of heaven and hell.
The Devil wears a hat with an emblem of her sins.
The bewitching conspiracy of his crimson eyes,
tempting to massacre the magnificence
of her invisible crystal wings of bronze and gold.
In a martyrdom of self-sacrifice,
love reminds her that kindness glows softly like fireflies,
as she tries to find light in a tunnel of lost thoughts.
The universe echoes her cosmic whispers of life,
as psychedelic ink shimmers like starlight in her veins,
pouring compassion into a selfish blank canvas of hearts.
Cherry blossoms tint the air pink
and she's looking at the world through their gaze,
but knows like everything,
their fragile beauty is only momentary.
And here I sit for the thousandth time
Writing over and over the same old lines
Lost in the dark its hard to see
Im right here and I cant find me
Mirrors lie we all know that
It doesn’t see as your heart is trapped
Except now theres truth in the night
It only reflects black without the light
And death calls just beyond the door
Stealing away all that I lived for
And I find
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all
And Im so sorry for all Ive done
Haunting thoughts the tears start to run
Tracing paths down to the floor
Still wet from the time before
Ive cried and cursed all alone
Has the heart of God turned to stone
Was I placed here just as a filler
Destined to lose all to the Dealer
Was all ive done so meaningless
Down to the first girl that I kissed
And I find
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all
And does the God of man
Just sit back to watch the hourglass sand
As the desperate cries fill the air
in his heart, is there a small tear
Or do the forgotten wonder the earth
Cursed with death from their birth
Is each life just a tv screen
That flickers and fades and goes unseen
Airwaves that fill the night sky
Lonely lives that are just a lie
And I find
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all
And were all my desires just as fake
As is each breathe that I take
And was everything for nothing at all
Just a plaything as Gods little doll
Whatever the truth Im still in this moment
Afraid and alone Im still in this moment
And the truth is what I see
Whether lies or real im losing me
And the truth is what I feel
and the truth, its killing me still
And I find
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all
And all these memories come pouring out
Can I know love when I’m full of doubt
And how am I expected to be
After all that’s happened to me
Or am I deformed somewhere inside
Somewhere deep where my soul has died
And are all these reasons why
God whispers I must die
Was there a last chance I missed
Hidden behind a betraying kiss
And so….
I find
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all….
They had measured on close counts,
Before they began his dismount,
All flowers and scents were left behind,
It was only mud that came to mind,
He was a log of wood that had no use,
They were about to consign him as refuse,
They had measured on close counts,
And now had finished his dismount,
They all glumly looked at the innards of earth,
Dug apart so as to be his home and hearth,
They lowered him with care,
Some cried and other shed tears,
Such care they had never shown,
When he was alive full blown,
They left him but he could not,
In years that followed he thought,
And all thoughts were about and their's,
But he lay still there,
Not able to do much,
While lower insects ate him as such,
Twenty yards under the surface,
The earth weighed on him like a mace,
He had volumes to carry,
Every moment without delay or tarry,
In peace he had the quiet,
Under the forceful mud of his burial site,
He was largely unattended,
Only heard anniversary footsteps,
When his thought subject came tending,
There was lot of din,
As one day woke abruptly in,
He could hear the rattling and banging of hammer,
His peace was disturbed and began to stammer,
It was furious and fast,
He presumed it could not be just his nest,
But also his neighbors from first to last,
It was familiar yes very much so,
All the sound and racket on the go,
It was regular and incessant,
As if it was rain rampant,
Yes, clouds up there from above,
Were pouring over his grave,
They sounded angry and irate,
And were determined to drown all gates,
He felt secure under mud,
And there suddenly was a seeping thud,
It was really bad and water had come in tones,
His grave was all definitely drowned,
Now the water had bossed over the earth,
Pressing it hard for the inner most berth,
It was invading the twenty yards,
And approaching him fast,
And he thought will the dead also meet the flood,
The seeping thud was on the first drop,
That fell on his stomach,
He churned as eating insects scurried,
Soon train followed thud after thud,
And then it was a volley of scuds,
His cavity was being filled,
And bones getting viscid and humid,
A coolness spread through rotten carrion,
And went on to turn into a bath for the skeleton,
It bathed him till it was just soaking,
Was it he who had ascended to heaven,
Or the heavens came pouring down to meet him even.
The Superhero Frog
Once upon a time,there was a frog named
Curious George
he swam in the lily pond and slept in a
hollow log,
It was a very comfortable place for a frog,
He swam and had great fun,
He warmed himself lying in the sun,
But George was often sad,lonely,and scared,
He didn't have any friends because no one
would dare,
Just because he was different, it seemed to
him no on cared.
All the town kids wouldn't play with him,
because of his long green sticky tongue and
his green skin,
Then one day, he heard some loud shouts!
He wondered what all the fuss was about,
He hippty-hopped through a hole in the
fence,
Then he was in grass so dense,
He could just barely see the sky,
This was how he got his name he was
always asking why?
But that was a question for another day,
For right now, he had to be on his way,
He hippity-hopped out on to the sidewalk,
He could hear some people talk,
But he just had to see,
What all the commotion could possibly,
possibly be,
Then he saw a little boy and girl playing ball
in the street,
They were not paying any attention to cars
or trucks they could meet,
An old rickety truck,with wobbly wheels,
bouncing springs, steam pouring from the
radiator spout,
went bouncing and wobbling down the street
with a clatter and bang,
the driver beep his horn happily along to his
song as he sang,
The kids and driver didn't hear the warning
shouts of
LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT!
George saw what was happening and quick
as a flash,
He hippity-hopped to the edge of the
sidewalk in a mad dash,
Then he stuck out his looooooonnnnnnnnng
sticky green tongue
as fffffffffffaaaaaaaaarrrr as he could,
He wrapped it around that boy and girl right
where they stood,
not enough space see my page,part 2 for the
rest of the story...
k river
8/12/14
Death dreaming
Playfully I kicked the round object.
The round object did not object.
It rolled and rolled and rolled,
While on and on I lazily strolled.
Suddenly I stopped with untold dread,
As I indeed beheld someone’s head.
A lifeless skull lifelessly gazing at me,
A fleshless face silently talking to me.
Around me human bones lay scattered,
Remains of a community forever shattered.
Bones once delivered alive at birth,
Came to life again but in certain death,
Each bone narrating its own story,
In horrific details all too gory.
I could see the picture all clear and plain,
A vivid portrait of human death and pain.
Guns suddenly barked piercing golden silence.
Silence destroyed was replaced by violence.
Cries of pain and anguish rang in my ear,
Terrified eyes darting in total fear.
Men and women no more living treasure,
As they were butchered for mere pleasure.
Beautiful and innocent but most scared,
Children and babies were not spared.
Pregnant mothers viciously cut open,
Their unborn left to wither away in the open.
I could smell the flowing warm blood,
Which soon turned into a cold flood.
The alarm clock suddenly let out a sharp scream.
Alarmed I woke up from a terrifying dream.
Cold sweat pouring from every single pore,
As if chased by the most ferocious foe.
My hand fumbled for the remote control,
To watch events I do not control.
My pounding heart stopped with untold dread.
As I indeed beheld numerous heads,
Lifeless skulls painfully gazing at the world,
Lifeless faces silently talking to the world.
All over human bodies lay scattered,
Remains of communities forever shattered.
This time I was not just dreaming,
What I was watching was somewhere happening.
But this world is for all to live in peace.
Citizens of one world we can live in peace.
All of us destined for prosperity and peace.
Why then hatred that hates peace?
Why the brutality that shatters peace?
Why then selfishness that denies peace?
Why the raping that abuses peace?
Why senseless killing that kills our peace?
Why violence that violates the right to peace?
Why the genocide that wipes away peace?
Immediately I stood up to fight for peace,
Forever the unarmed soldier of peace.
You, what shall you choose but in peace,
Will it be violence or will it be peace?
Come join me in the battle for peace.
Peter Marimi
Courage is not having the strength to go on; it is going on when you don’t have the strength. –Theodore Roosevelt (1858-1919), 26th President of the United States
A year of heartbreak, soundless as the stars
who glitter, surreal, remembering
while we make our wishes, feel the darkness
surrounding, gentling at best…
the beautiful kiss of a lonely death,
fatalities sitting in heaven,
never listening to the falling rain,
all the clouds, the edges of each shadow,
forbidding my heart this feeling, so insane…
hurricane helene, with her deafening embrace
left hearts without the rhythm
of hope that quiets the soul,
when the thunder leaves its witness
to the darkness’ demonic twist,
the unending silence from a storm, the risk
imagine a world standing still,
awkward without her joyful voice,
darkened by fears, tears, and despair,
all the dismay that comes to those
who witness the heavens pouring out
not only the flow of rain,
but the waters so explosive
they are truly a hurricane – hurricane Helene
writing her story on our land,
fighting the mountains,
filling lives with her shouts,
seeking to break us,
with her screams and her roar,
as she raises our waters,
our creeks and our rivers,
brings mudslides that change us forever…
oh, what a story she’ll write in her journal
about the day she touched down
on this quiet, quaint home – Western North Carolina
no, we’ll never be the same…
there will always be a hesitation
when the rain begins,
an anxious foreboding,
apprehension of what might become
another Helene, another hurricane,
another rain who silences every soul
with the breath of a tempest
so out of control….
oh, my, what a tale these mountains could expose,
a story of darkness, a story of dread,
a story of fear that is filled with regrets…
how we will remember Helene
I believe… is the storm who reminded
we must always seek
the One who created us to believe,
without His protection,
we’re a people without any peace,
we’re a people without hope or grace,
we’re a people who life will replace,
with death, darkness, disgrace,
all the reasons that storms rage,
all the reasons that we have to abide…
in the love of the Father,
the hope of the light,
the peace of God’s Son,
who will heal those of us,
who’ve been touched
by the storm who taught us…
we must never give up!