Long Prevail Poems
Long Prevail Poems. Below are the most popular long Prevail by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Prevail poems by poem length and keyword.
** What’s Torn **
What’s been torn off or away may be
a recurring theme — of dreams or memory —
that nags, popping up unexpectedly
to recall or, for dear losses, again grieve…
The things thieved
from life — as divinely conceied,
like the Amazon forest’s trees —
don’t leave, but remain in a spectral reality…
What’s been torn away
may similarly refuse to leave —
like my calve, cut from my body, will scream,
sending phantom pain in suffered agonies…
What was seized from me on that mournful day,
— sculpted by dancing ballet for a decade,
stayed as I went from anestesized to awake
into a daytime nightmare without any escape…
When life sends us to dire places,
where hopelessness would subjugate us,
God will guard our souls and grace us
with a strength: resounding to the soul…
Left ragged, like having my health fail
in reaching goals, I will feel my heart wail
near breaking, but I refuse to let my faith pale
…believing the prayers of heaven will entail
blessings to help all God’s children prevail.
—————————
((c) s.y..eslinger 3/2024
**an addition to “On Phantom Pain” poem still in progress at this time
The theater is a brief escape
From everything routine,
Providing highs and lows and sometimes
What falls in between.
But when a show’s uplifting
It’s a magical event,
So much more than entertainment,
Time and money both well-spent.
Today I saw “Come From Away,”
Which tells, in song, the tale
Of stranded planes in Newfoundland
When kindness did prevail.
The 9/11 passengers
Descended on a town
Where locals fed and housed them,
Keeping moods from sinking down.
That tragic time’s remembered
For the sorrow and the pain
But the joy from this performance
In my thoughts will long remain.
I truly can't believe what I am really seeing.
In the shadow darkness is there a shadowed being.
Open my eyes as wide as can be, to illuminate the night.
Questioning my wavered sanity, which brings up this fight.
Is what I hear from something near, a real like human voice?
I listen in when it begins, I no longer have a choice.
I can clearly hear within my own open ears.
Pushing on my thoughts, consuming intruding fears.
If I ever catch it in the act, this fu*ker shadow that won't move an inch.
When I watch, wait and listen, my jaws they begin to tightly clench.
But deep within my mind, I know the difference of, that in which I question.
Cause in reality and in daylight I realize it's of my own invention.
I need to regain control,
Take the pills that let me know.
That its all in my head.
But it always forms itself when I'm lying in bed.
I know I heard it aloud and clear, exactly what it spoke.
The fact that I am schizo, even without the puddled choke.
It's all so mucked up, these voices sound exactly like someone I heard before.
Almost like a few of my close friends, speaking beyond a closed door.
Talking about things in demeaning words, a conversation that has intention.
But I question the reality of the whole thing, cause I know it's my dementia reflection.
I shouldn't contemplate the silence within my mind.
Cause each time I drift off in a daze, that's when I will find.
That these voices of the internal realm.
Are really just me behind the helm.
Dwell on a spell, I fell in a well, the bell wrung in hell, so I sail with ale, and smell this tale, Then tell this to quell, and as always prevail, prevail, prevail.
By Your revival’s best action
Along Your miracle-wonders beyond imagination
Molding me through Your trying, proving and polishing function…
Oh God, enable me to continue in Your ways of sanctification
While I lean on Your understanding in my everyday choice and decision!
With Your revival power of growth’s certainty
Allowing me to grab Your kingdom-investment opportunity
Teaching me to declare Your Gospel in Your authority…
Oh God, enable me to prevail prayerfully against any falsity
While I launch into Your mission-depths of eternal rewards’ security!
As You revive* my soul midst Your jubilant presence
Moving me to thank You for Your benefit-load of valuable essence
Upholding me to shine in Your righteousness’ iridescence…
Oh God, enable me to take heed to Your warnings on pride’s incense
While I listen to Your voice and wait with victorious obedience-license!
*Habakkuk 3:2 …O LORD, revive thy work in the midst of the years, in the midst of the years make known; in wrath remember mercy.
August 1, 2019
I am humble, He said
But what of being honest?, another asked.
I am gentle, He yet professed
No, what anent honesty,
That shapes one's integrity?
He was again questioned.
I am friendly, He proudly said,
Seeming to have the world by him accommodated.
No, are you uncorrupted to them,
And corrigible to all men?
The other retorted.
What got I to do with corrigibility? he queried.
For none could in any way be honest perpetually;
So we do have to compromise at times.
No, no, no, that is wrong! the other began.
Honesty is the best virtue
In which all other virtues prevail
The evidence of man's generosity.
For an honest man is an hundred times better—
Than a benevolent man in wonder.
He pays Peter in Paul's coin
And steals from a man and do it a good to another.
What if the world were only generous,
With no sign of honesty,
Would it stand it?
For it brings the worlds to a world
And peoples to a people.
But many lack this golden efficacy of life.
Yes, with it all other virtues prevail!
Throughout the world's history,
we read compelling stories
of the defending soldiers of the tenderest age;
and we can be moved to tears
by the purity of their courage:
they died on the battlefield,
never breaking their promise
or fall short of integrity...
Defending soldiers of the tenderest age as handsome
as the daffodils of the undulating fields,
nothing scares you when it comes
to protecting your motherland with that freedom:
as intrepid as the eagles in the open skies...
Defending soldiers as true as warriors,
you push forward with the victorious thought
of becoming nothing more
than the boldest soldiers:
seeing the smokey sky blast;
rescuing the wounded and closing the eyes
of the fallen ones bleeding on the burned grass...
If I were younger, and I had the same resistance,
I would fight with the indomitable spirit you own;
but my contribution is merely sympathetic words on paper,
which one of you will read on your return
to the homeland when all wait on you united in fond prayer:
with ribbons on trees and flags in their hands....
Defending soldiers of the tenderest age,
all past heroes had one special trait:
the persistance and will to prevail,
and the final victory on their breath;
when everything else seemed to fail,
an indisputable faith prevented another threat...
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Brendan ain’t ‘Able’
The teacher preached that we are all ‘different but similar and
love should prevail’ as the ruler came down in seven lashes
on the bare bottom in mathematical precision and so the pattern
was formed in bright red strikes and strides for creativity shelled
Two canes plus three canes had equalled one cane for Brendan lost in
the world of artistry fantasy mild mellowed dreams anticipation of
cruelty abandoned for a more equal world of compassion and kindness
Diversity does not mean we all have to die by the hand of the sword
But the ground rules were laid the nucleus centred the core enshrined
on the altar of learning of fear and conditioning the human condition
Surely Cain had been forgiven while Brendan was not just so able
What a premise to believe all need to be governed by rules and by fear
Brendan himself became governor received medals and glory on the
killing fields of purple hearts while his rainbow receded smouldered
in ashes and blood scripted the fiction that wars must be waged on
others infidels and the weak and the meek who simply don’t learn
Anarchy has been misunderstood for the chaos projected bedevilled
by the teachers and soldiers whose bayonet is the ruler the wooden
spoon for the worst form of governance inflicted by the concept that
we as the people and People could never know best are derided as sheep
Who says it is utopia that we cannot govern ourselves one step at the time
inch by inch like the face on the weapon that had patterned his cheeks
‘Rule thyself not thy neighbour’ let us stand up and rebel oppose the
dominion of dominant forces overthrow the rule and the ruler and live
10th March 2017
The winds of change, they softly call,
A whisper through the trees so tall.
The stars align, the earth takes heed,
New paths arise for hearts in need.
The dawn breaks through with hues of gold,
A story waiting to unfold.
Each step a chance, each breath a guide,
The journey blooms where dreams reside.
Though shadows linger, doubts may play,
The light within will find its way.
For in each soul, a spark does gleam,
A fire fueled by hope and dream.
So walk the road, no matter how long,
And write your tale, both brave and strong.
The winds of change will lift your sail,
And carry you where dreams prevail.
and like those eight-track tapes
my praise is on repeat
I worship my God constantly
my faith in Him concrete
my praise is on repeat
It continuously flows
my praise is on repeat
to exalt the God
I love and know
life has more troubles than triumphs
more losses than wins
yet I will still praise my God
again, again and again
my praise is on repeat
It continuously flows
my praise is on repeat
to exalt the God
I love and know
there's power in my praise
It has the ability to transform
there's power in my worship
It's a godly weapon that can conform
and produce a godly response
from the Holy One
In the face of my enemies
for me God will get it done
God's in control
It all belongs to Him
for it's His will that'll prevail
In the end
my praise is on repeat
It continuously flows
my praise is on repeat
to exalt the God
I love and know
I don't need to see the victory
my praise will produce positive results
the battle will be won
for by God my situation was touched
my praise is on repeat
It continuously flows
my praise is on repeat
to exalt the God
I love and know
my praise is on repeat
I constantly declare
that the almighty God for me
Is always there
I honor Him. I worship Him
my praise is His alone
my veneration to God
the One to whom I atone
my praise is on repeat
It will continuously surge
my praise is on repeat
let the Holy Spirit in me
now emerge
my praise is on repeat .
It continuously flows
my praise is on repeat
to exalt the God
I love and know
God is in control
It all belongs to Him
for its His will that'll prevail
In the very end
my praises on repeat.
It continuously flows
my praise is on repeat
to exalt the God
I love and know
my praise is on repeat
It continuously flows
my praise is on repeat
to exalt the God
I love and know
Simple Step In Beauty
Passion flower towers at the crown of a radical Hippies’ heart revolution in waiting
blossoms for such longing deep sensual trust freedom justice compassion to prevail
Opens closes unlatches the moment past future spins memories for contemplating
of what to hold dear whom where and when cycles keep spinning on dialectical scale
From root to blossom up towards down from equality empowerment and social exclusion
love can be synthesized smelt scented with fragrance aroma communal power infused
When ‘Passiflora’ is lived and ‘ en-lived’ ‘en-storied’ to the meaning essence’s restitution
condensed ‘ad integrum’ oozing emotion reason strength determination dis-confused
I am a dreamer idealist so my favourite flower recycles in truth and all magic seasons
it grows and weaves amorous bouquets bunches and hunches inter-webbed branches
No strings no inequality no tyranny of hierarchy attached no spider web of treason
marque demarcate marginalize but complement resolve hypocrisy oppositional tranches
My flower reaches for nature for fusion not terror domination colonisation of minds
wishes to swift and sift gently the torments thunders blunders ring in winds of change
make love and not wars intercourses in slow rhyming rhythm in place and overall time
If we all cherished this flower we ‘d be more peaceful and turn anger to guardian’s ‘ange’
08th August
ABAB CDCE EFEF GHGH