Long Prompting Poems
Long Prompting Poems. Below are the most popular long Prompting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Prompting poems by poem length and keyword.
Back in 1964 Harry and Larry
Just couldn't agree,
Who was cuter,
Mary or Dee.
At lunch was a fight,
Kids gathered 'round;
Didn't care it weren't right--
Fists a-flying, blows raining down.
In the end, Harry'd won,
Who'd thought Mary cute;
The fighters shook hands,
It'd all been a hoot!
2014 -- Same thing happened
In back of the school:
A fistfight broke out,
It seemed really cool.
Only this time it lasted
A mere minute or two,
When police sirens sounded:
Tires squealed, men in blue.
They broke up the fight,
Took the combatants to the station;
Jailed 'em for assault overnight,
Future-imperiling incarceration.
The school did its job too,
Expelling both without a hearing,
Prompting educators' cheering--
Teenaged booing and jeering.
In 1964 boys fought hard,
Then made up and shook hands
The authorities were quiet,
No reprimands.
Fifty years later, fighting's outlawed,
Boys have no chance:
Gone is romance,
Schools look askance.
Feedback,
A poet strives for perfection, with his work intended to reflect his identity. He wrestles with procrastination as he develops each line.
Each verse provokes reactions and anticipations, prompting him to debate or revise his creations, even when favorable reviews are received.
Should I present it aloud, or let it mature and invite others to sample it? A multitude of perspectives can be influential.
Unlike a Sunday buffet, his poem is not the main course.
His work serves as an ode to his experiences, establishing him as a prolific composer.
Author's Note: To be or not to be, that is the question.
caged in form, memory erased
constrained by a fragmented mind
sensory inputs leave us dazed
to light of Self within heart blind
scriptures cajole us to explore
truth of being and so awake
by being still, making heart pure
lust and fear choosing to forsake
with head and heart poised in balance
viewing life like a lucid dream
mood and mode vibrant nonchalance
we sing a song on love’s moonbeam
in timeless time, ego recedes
we dwell in the eternal now
through our hands God performs His deeds
with each heartbeat in joy we bow
with thoughts rested, time too slows down
we recognise space is a veil
at peace within, in bliss we drown
soma nectar our preferred ale
in as ordained, our ego drops
the dead leaf falls off from the tree
the universe fades and time stops
revealing our Self, at last free
living light, shaped like a heartbeat
is who we are, outside space-time
self-existent, feeling complete
in peace it renews heart’s love chime
holy scriptures point out the way
prompting us to metamorphose
that we may see God, clear as day
whilst resting in blissful repose
What curious charge to press 'pon lover -
that he "overthinks" - therein his mistake.
When he feels fire difficult to cover,
while innocent passions keep him awake.
The only p'wr prompting hesitation
is perception -correct- that you don't feel.
Thus tortuous math, sour consternation:
Duty to realism or the ideal?
Intuition suggests looming failure,
but still, perhaps, the truth should be revealed
rather than cast to sea by a sailor.
My heart - small sacrifice- it shall be healed.
Cautious? I am - but also greatly dare.
I overthink things, dear, because I care.
15 July 2023
I wither away writhing with protest
As I toss the option to liquidate my hate
Paralyzed more often than just depressed
A language not meant to nimbly translate
As I toss the option to liquidate my hate
The richest pain begins to harvest
A language not meant to nimbly translate
While vile sadness rapes my inner sadist
The richest pain begins to harvest
Shrouded deeply in my darkest trait
While vile sadness rapes my inner sadist
Leaving it baron in its rawest state
Shrouded deeply in my darkest trait
Numbness freezes my flow of interest
Leaving it baron in its rawest state
Casual indifference is delivered unbiased
Numbness freezes my flow of interest
Prompting my defunct deflated gait
Casual indifference is delivered unbiased
When calloused logic educates the debate
Prompting my defunct deflated gait
Paralyzed more often than just depressed
When calloused logic educates the debate
I wither away writhing with protest
--4/10/2017--
Choose A Topic: Depression and Sadness
A sad Southern tale
It was a disturbing wonder
When, In the midst of a bountiful harvest
There arose a call
To weed, trim, plunder and even murder
Every east, west and northern brethren
Who drifted to feast across the southern border?
Now you know how to hack and spear your brethren
Those who stood yelling, stoop wailing
Just to see you, toe Freedom Street
Alas, after being spared from your iron shackles
Your years was spent ploughing yesterdays wrath
While farming today’s seeds of scorn
Your bountiful harvest
was resentment and hasty judgement
Never realising that you were still in bondage
brought so much bewilderment
from these awakening events
Revealing your hidden fetters
And soulless chains
unraveling the veil
Shading up your blind wills
And your fallen hopes
Now you hear that call
Deadening you unto reality
Those voices that in time past
had thundered your paths
along freedom way
now resonate with livid hatred
prompting you unto violence
even to your own kind
Alone – never lonely
His spirit with me, prompting me
Listening to the still, small voice
Lifting me, stirring love inside me
Gifting me with His sensitivity
Alone – but not lonely
He is with me, guiding me
Delighting me with His grace
Reassuring me with hope’s embrace
Silencing doubt so I feel sweet faith
Alone – but never lonely
He abides with me, inside of me
Enlightening me, instilling within
Gentleness, kindness, fruits of the spirit
Lights that complete me, mature me
Alone – though I’m not lonely
He is alive with me, sunshine to me
Reflecting peace and inspiration
Assuring me of His amazing salvation
Brightening each moment, each day
Alone – never lonely
His nature awakens my devotion
Quiets every dark emotion
Whispers peace through my soul
Erases shadows that disappoint
Alone – but never lonely
He is with me, persuading me
With conviction, belief, dedication
Promise that love will always fill me
Comfort my soul, ease every worry
Alone – I’m not lonely
Because He is with me
Alive, gifting me with His
Creativity, insight and beauty
His wonders – love so strong
Alone – No, I’m never alone
I have the One who makes my
Heart long for His presence
His light – His acceptance
The forgiveness that made me….
CHILD of the KING – One of the redeemed!
Agile music pouring out gentle quiet,
Furious sighs breaking through the soft shadows,
Beyond the moon, ebbs a beautiful riot.
Stars glistening, prompting the wind to transpose,
Reverse the dancing laughter, breathless pining,
Aching, trembling, quaking as the music slows.
Autumn’s beguiling, summer is declining,
Whispering kisses over mountain ascents,
Only God Himself could have done this signing.
Author of graceful laughter, warm precedents,
Soulful joys discovered beneath the sunshine,
Rays of glory raining down over contents.
Story of light pierces dark, the bottom line,
Father, Son and Holy Ghost, this light is mine!
A voice calls me
To feel and write
To let things be
As words now cite
Song for the wind
To blow and send
To realms unseen
To distant lands
In easy lines
A prompting urge
Brings thought made fine
In feel and surge
Insight can flash
Some message here
In plain old flesh
To forge some cheer
Rhymes come on cue
In strains laid plain
That cast what's due
To word new gains
All in due time
Feelings fling form
Unleash new rhymes
Unfurl clear norms
Plain metaphors
Converge to be
An urgent store
That love sets free
I do not need
To work so hard
Nor force new seed
To free the bard
Flow comes to me
As I see fit
Let echoes be
To move sure wit
There is a place
Beyond this world
Where time and space
In stillness swirl
God waits for us
To clearly know
To assuage thirst
To feel life's flow
Leon Enriquez
15 Feb 2014
Singapore
I'm waking up and rubbing two blinded eyes,
The crispness of the sweet-scented air in whimpering July
Rapidly spreads by a benevolent wind that pleases,
It allows me to discover by intent a sublime reality,
Which is the morning's picturesque beauty:
Does strong belief interfere with a sense of great friability?
Nature can be brutal or pleasant, and yet it can fascinate
Us, when it suddenly embraces each sense to compensate
For the discontent left by a dreamless and unrestful night;
What we hear amid those eerie shadows is the cry of a cricket!
I distinctly revoke such repulsing and unenthralling nights
As I wash their macabre images off with cold, running water;
Is a better day coming, prompting actions that don't falter?
Harm is done when pain is accepted and tomorrow frightens.
In this morning's picturesque beauty, I could lose myself
And wish that dreaming vainly detaches me from grief,
not seeing any delusional mirage on the journey to happiness;
I've expelled the vile demons that made me spew lies!