Long Preachy Poems
Long Preachy Poems. Below are the most popular long Preachy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Preachy poems by poem length and keyword.
It was E. B. White
who famously lamented
Waking each morning
feeling prevented
from improving
his worldview experience
Or waking each morning
feeling joy
for improvements made
during views of Earth
sacred smack in Her
other wise dead head
inexperience
Or something
probably not so involved
but with the same
missing the potential
for
Waking each morning
committed to enjoy improving
my co-invested worldview
sacred health-humored
wealth of experience.
But not in a preachy
judgment way,
more of a cosmic beauty
sacred green holonic
kinda open wholeEarth systemic
sort of win/win play
More trauma-informed
by advocates
for green cooperative
deep learning non-violent communication
ecofeminist EarthTribe Day
and Transition Town Time
for restoring resilient EarthJustice.
Sense spacious silence speak
Prize primal pattern peak
Void vets vibrant vile voice
Cream clumsy changing choice
Toilsome thoughts tunnel time
Meet moist motionless mime
Feel fond fancy flavour
Opt old odd off-odours
Form fleeting formal face
Glimpse gaudy grinding grace
Face funny faulty fix
Meet most memory mix
Mull mushy momentum
Treat taut touchy tantrum
Unhinge used unseen urge
Ply preachy poignant purge
Edgy echoes ease etch
Sanguine sadness soul sketch
Impact indulgent ire
Messy moments meet mire
Languish lavish laughter
Adjourn ample after
Listening lastly lurks
Jumpy jest justly jerks
Sober sleepless soul spice
Promptly puzzles pure price
Numbing nonsense now nibs
Tasty touching time trip
Nimble nasty notions
Pace placates proportion
Time travel through twilight
Indulge instant insight
Lift lasting lustre loud
Petty plots pretty proud
Ply puzzling poison pill
Size spacious silence spill
Leon Enriquez
17 October 2018
Singapore
Prime pretty play
Dream deeper day
Live laughter loud
Prune preachy proud
See silly stay
Pick poignant pay
Love lines loiter
Mind moves matter
Verse vivid voice
Charm creates choice
Shrewd style speaks sound
Grace grows grand grounds
Mystic mind moves
Gracious gifts groove
Cryptic calm croons
Beauty brings boon
Gain groovy grip
Time tickles trip
Wise wonder works
***** question quirks
Ask apt aura
Feel fine flora
Meet millions more
Subtle soul spores
Prize poignant proof
Taste touching truth
Bright blossoms bloom
Rich rapture rooms
Taste telling times
Right ripples rhymes
Leon Enriquez
24 May 2015
Singapore
I thought it would be fun to pretend to translate
a yakuza-enka (gambler folk song) by Shintaro Katsu,
to be sung with gravelly grave seriousness.
Nobody seems to love me
Or care about my pain
My sandals are all worn out
I sleep out in the rain
I am a lonely bugger,
A blind and lowly bug
I have no home, I always roam,
I'm practically a thug.
My name is Zatoichi
My life is never peachy
I tap along and sing a song
As sad as it is preachy.
The only time I'm happy
Is when I'm betting dice
But if they try to cheat me
or fail to treat me nice
I show them quick my blind man's stick
Can flash with bloody slice
I cut them all in pieces
It's quite an awful vice.
My name is Zatoichi
My life is never peachy
I tap along and sing a song
As sad as it is preachy.
Charity starts at home
don't
we say?
Be kind to your kith and
kin
come what may.
A family's not only your
safe
haven
Tis pals your very own
roots
Water these shoots with
love
devoid of hate
So they bear you
sweeter
fruits.
Maybe you'd say that's
not so
easy
but perhaps that's coz
you just
too busy
Or your clock just don't
chime
for quality family time?
For if you can't make
time for
a letter or a hug
Then let my poem give
your
conscience a gentle tug.
And if this may sound
like a
preachy homily
Deserves much more
mention
and affection the family
If you can make time for
so
many other things
some of them not even
worthwhile
Try discover the
happiness
family brings
Just a tad modify that
routine
lifestyle.
My words in crystal clear
clarity
sing compassion is
likewise a
charity
Charity need not be for
strangers only
Find out who needs help
in
kindred and family
Ties of kinship severe not
Value the relations
you've got
Your siblings, cousins
from
your family tree
and all else that you call
family.:-x
I have met some wonderful people on SoupVille Lane.
Without this extraordinary and fantastic poetry
community, our paths may have never crossed.
I just want to let you all know (you know who
you are). Who has supported me continuously on my poetic journey.
That I don't take your support and friendship lightly.
Especially during these difficult times. Being away from family can be so sad and depressing.
I log into the soup and find laughter, inspiration, encouragement, and kindness. Just having you in my corner has meant the world to me.
Some may say friendships such is this isn't real,
I beg to differ. What is friendship?
Opening yourself up to another, being your true authentic self, I have done that with some of
you and I consider you a friend.
One thing about friendship is, you have to be
a friend to gain a friend.
Some friends go deep, and some don't,
but my (soup) friends, we have poetry in common, and I feel we are friends because of our shared love of poetry.
With that being said, is this place perfect? No
Because we have feelings and feelings get in the way.
But we should strive to be respectful no matter what. If I come off as preachy, I apologize; the things that I express, I say to myself first and foremost. Just sharing my insight and personal reflections. I know 2020 has been bad for us all.
I hope and pray, 2021 is much better. Happy New Year, my soup friends:-) Alexis
12-26-2020
Our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our skins,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright sky light.
My son
who cannot walk
nor speak his name
talks vociferously forth and with
and adding as this morning breeze
together part of Her embrace,
playful tickles
across his advocating happy Yanging face
teaching out and taking in, as possible
what and whom is impossible
for any of us to see,
whether blind as he
or sighted as we
might actually hope to be.
D is an avid scooting son
toward virgin forest greetings,
able to smell and feel morning seasons and rhythms
of days and night,
dark and persuasively gusty bright
flow of solar and lunar breezes
across our democratic EarthBound skins,
nurturing solidarity
older than concrete avenues toward cities
of overwhelming unforesting,
unraveling
tribes producing what once was nutrition,
good food more than fake food,
healthy love of gusty bright mornings
over toxic repressed-yin darks,
nightmares of climate acclimation
to separating multi-sensory linguistic pathologies.
D's life is liturgy of love
blemished only by occasional aversions to entrapment
and suffering alone
when we might become possible
to produce healthier webs of cooperative nurture
together,
Dad and D
as We.
Daranyani D,
celebrating sacred forest winds
as feminine matriarchal principles
gracing his brown naked skin.
Diversity of days and holonic nightdreams,
democratic nutritional pluralism,
principles of forest reweaving civilizations
older than cities
surrounded by fading cultures of wealth
through deforesting this EarthTribe Morning
which,
on its very best warm gusty day,
has become worthy
of concelebrating Daranyani D's
forest optimizing breezes,
liturgies of EarthTribe's
Secular Out and Sacred In
brightest elder
matriarchally principled
(0)Soul bilateral sacred brain-dance,
Elder RightBrain
Still-PolyCulturating Light-RainDance
Choreographies Sacred (0)Sum EcoPolitical
BiCameral Green-Dominant.
Just like his preachy, but basically happy, ElderDad
co-eco incarnating
our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our naked wrongs and rights,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright returning sky light.
Sometimes it is hard to know what to write or when to write when you have just about every
thought possible flowing through your head. I wonder, "Should I please the public with
how "poetic" I am or should I please You? I know what the answer is but at times I'm
worried about being liked or whether people get me. Is my belief in Your Son too far
above their heads or will they get it? Should I even worry about public opinion? Of
course I know as a follower of Christ, sharing my testimony and telling them about the
Lord is what I'm supposed to do. On the other hand, have I become to preachy and
dull? Am I shoving my beliefs down their throats? Then I realize, didn't Jesus make
himself of no reputation? Everybody thought that He was weird, blasphemous and not
qualified to tell them anything when it came to how they were living. I'm only here to do
what He wants me to do, nothing more, nothing less. If I do my part, the right people will
hear it, love it and appreciate it. All I should do, is write the word and leave all my
"rambling worries" to Him.
My stomach
and lower core rumblings
and dis-communionations
hope for some further feeding
consuming way
to not merely tolerate
but gratefully digest
what my gut
won't easily
organically appreciate
and comfortably eliminate
Can only traumatically depreciate
Has trouble resonantly ingesting
what eyes and mouth
salivate to masticate.
Chewing
swallowing massive trauma
to consumers so enlightened
and healthily empowered
we cannot bow
to southern fried chicken-wing
mighty bite makes digestive right
toxic dogma
not nature-spirited
indigenously bright
Confused by preachy facile spirits
inexperienced with deep resilient peace
digestive therapy
Not ingesting further
poison punishments
Blames
and shames
against restoring strong stomach
and deeper digestive flowing innocence
Unconditional regard
for nutritionally healthy
nurturing
natured grateful spirits
Long experienced souls
avoiding win/lose congestion
indigestion
by choosing win/win
cooperatively immaculate re-conceptions
Well chewed
and communally swallowed
bread and wine
of full-bodied
root health chakra souls
exploring neuro-sensory communion
Anticipating panentheistic
intra/inter-personally wealthy
sacred pre-inceptions.