Long Pursues Poems

Long Pursues Poems. Below are the most popular long Pursues by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pursues poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Breastplates of Righteousness

My mind is as fascinated with investments and divestments
as my body is attracted to healthy and beautiful vestments,

and haunted by prospects of naked loss of home
and integral identity.

My vested interests emerge issues and concerns about nutrition,
as opposed to malnutrition.
Nutrition, whether economic or political,
pursues ecologically systemic complexity.
PolyCultural nutrition can be consumed and produced by a healthy cooperative ecosystem,
while a monoculturally disturbed and aggressive absence of balance
harmony
grace
perpetuates internal v external systemic trauma.

We would all prefer,
regardless of cultural history of our vestments,
avoiding Other's aggressive win/lose values
without win/win cooperative body-health/mind-wealth merit
as effectively democratic,
confluently inclusive,
peacefully compassionate
as possible
through clear polypathic discernment,
multiculturally resilient wellness
passion/pleasure co-invested,
economically and politically co-arising
enlightening and empowering

compelling
spacious and timeless
harmoniously cooperative wealth
overwhelmingly vested
in nondual co-arising 
mind/body
passion/pleasure climaxing
wealth/health co-infested experience

Whether the pantheistically connected mind of an ant
or polypathically EarthMother nurtured human,
whether the soulful voice of a river
or polyculturing choices of a rich forest,
or the SunFather enlightened spirit 
of EarthMother's empowering cooperative nature

My mind invests in
and divests of 
anthropocentric economic and political 
monoculturing monotheistic history

Of healthy bodies and beautiful minds
spaciously and timelessly
haunted by monoculturing prospects 
of sacred EarthMother's loveless loss,
homeless absence 
of cooperatively organic
panentheistic Gaian integrity.

EarthTribe's co-empathic 
beautifully invested mind,
fascinating co-empathic body-divestments,
where curious polypathic nature's nutrition 
cultivates spiritual-mental health diversions,
spaciously enlightened and timelessly wealthy
co-arising authentically enlightened
and integrally empowering
bicameral left/righteousness

Polypathically organic minds 
fascinated with investments and divestments
of panentheistically sacred bodies
attracted to politically healthy 
and economically wealthy
creolizing Gaian co-infestments.


Premium Member If Fantasy Were Reality

Checked by www.howmanysyllables.com> syllable_counter
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                                        If Fantasy Were Reality

                            Human mind is like a wild cheeky horse,
                           Untrained, it pursues its own wilful course
                                   Of IMAGINATION that lively brains
                               Can freely wish and afford to sustain
                                In a DREAM world of reckless REVERIE
                                  Amidst the glow of frantic fantasy.

                                    Flying on silvery wings of fancy
                               I dream being the king of my country
                           With beauties of my choice serving on me,
                             Attending to my WHIMSY wants like flees,
                               Basking in the sun in midst of the sea,
                               Inhaling freshness of the air, carefree.

                           Alas, when the dream comes to abrupt halt
                                 I feel being struck by a thunderbolt
                                       Viewing it as VISUALISATION
                                     Bordering on a HALLUCINATION
                         With the sour sense of dropping from the moon
                                   To face the realm of reality soon.

                                         If fantasy were a reality
                               There would exist no shrines of poverty
                          No climes where wicked woeful wars are waged
                                   No theatre where violence is staged,
                             But a land where blooms the flower of peace
                             Where in every soul sprouts the seed of bliss.

                                  If fantasy could endow us with grace
                              Evert poor man`s house would be a palace,
                           Man could dwell on earth many thousand years
                                  Without shedding a drop of pearly tear,
                                          Without an iota of divine fear,
                                   Decreeing earth as his very own sphere.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Anomie

Written: April 10, 2024 For Edward Ebeh Contest

“Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”

— Rumi
                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In society grasp, individuals fade, 
As group dynamics falter, satiation wane. 
Anomie is the state in which we reside,
Void of meaning, where shell may subside.

Man dwells in the domain of existence,
Longing for purpose—a tale to share once. 
He pursues punter goals, a noble quest,
To descry his sanctuary, where he can rest.

Sans clear vision—a peculiar goal to pursue,
He wanders, devoid of any discernible clue. 
A protocol to follow—a structure to defray,
He seeks a clear path to lead the way. 
 
It is in the heights—that he finds his worth, 
A divine connection, a sense of rebirth. 
In a world of mayhem, where chaos reigns,
A sense of chaos and rebellion in our veins. 

We're in an era of disorder and hopelessness,
Where a sense of alienation thrives with idleness.
Streets brimming with an air of dread and fear,
As the supremacy of law is starting to disappear.

A land ruled by untamed and careless,
Peace and order are baffling awareness.
Durkheim unveils a modern, cosmic community,
Where people or teams cease to have impunity,

Stuck in a condition of "anomie," they dwell,
Devoid of crucial social interactions, they tell.
An individual, adrift, follows a restless tide,
Planless self-empowerment with no guide. 

An aimless existence, devoid of worth, 
As delight lies in future, not in present berth.
One ought to consider their inevitable fate.
The insignificance and loneliness state.

He would undoubtedly elapse insane.
Or spirit might seek the numbing arcane.
Crisis and violence, madness untamed, 
Revolution's fire, the world inflamed.
 
In sync with events of insignificance.
Unleashed automobility, a hedonistic dance,
Individualism allure, a tempting chance, 
Grip of anomie and despair erodes at a glance.

Conspicuous consumption, a fleeting thrill,
Yet unsustainable, bear beyond, still. 
In a sphere bereft of spirit light, 
Where meaning fades—hope takes flight. 

An oddity exists in trans-political time frame,
There is no repercussion for deviance claim.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Who May We Say We Are

Name, a label, for mind-body identity,
which across past lives, we have had many,
as also gender rotation, for an experience spherical,
so this time around, now assimilating our earth life sojourn,
given pseudonym humbly confesses, there is much more to learn

Of traits and quirks and leanings determining innate reflex response,
how may we affirm validity of erst urges we now look at askance,
save that for most part we reside in thought rested vibrancy,
benediction divine, stretching bliss enriched continuum,
each enlivened node within form, our sensorium 

Our family tree has myriad branches and leaves,
yet relationships do shift with time, so what may we believe,
prismatic reflections by us seen, honoured, embraced and released
as present becomes foggy past, stored in unreliable memory
whilst tender touch vibrational holds true in continuity 

As attention oscillates between form and formlessness,
integral truth of void and manifestation is interconnectedness,
with God alone as our saviour, our heart immersed in fervent prayer
we recognise that presence of soul in body signals attachment,
so we accept what is as is, content in the bliss current

Reduced is fear and diminished is desire, yet ego pursues,
fearful doubts of failing to illumine consciousness still renew,
with Maslow’s triangle of human aspirations an accepted reality,
we wonder why it takes so long for us to choose to surrender,
dismayed at seeing pain, suffering and hearts asunder

We desire that man and nature co-exist in harmony 
treading gently on earth, lovingly, tenderly and mindfully,
all hearts in resonation with love, entwined with universal mind,
free of superstitions and narrowness, seeking Gods light,
each being radiating their unique auric hues bright

What may we say of where we live, for who are we
as we embark moment to moment on a blissful spree,
be it for the moment encased in this human material form
or as our true self pristine pure, a being of living light,
doing Gods will, by His grace, each day and night

Our name? Spirit unstained. We are That!

04-July-2021

THIS IS WHO I AM Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
me
Form: Bio

Funny resolutions of the new year

Christmas does not come alone,                                                                            It comes with the new year too,                                          
A new year invites resolutions along,             
The resolutions may be funny, old or new,                               
This year I can use bitter neem sticks,                                   
or abrasive powders for brushing teeth,                             
Tooth powder may be eggshells and bricks,                                                       I want to become a hedonist in breathe,                             
Who pursues worldly life's pleasures,                                                                   I am typically fond of eating sweets,                                                                      I want to taste different dessert serves,                                                                Like the ancient Roman king's stories,                                                           who made vomitorium in the Palatine,                                                           And wanted to make empty in the stomach,                                                         I can use hands for eating meals on anytime,                                           Meals like the fried goat's tongue and duck,      .                                                I want to play the old game dice,                                      
Which is the game of luck and tradition,                                                          Try to drink the barbaric beer with ice,                                
And sleep in the nest of grasses in position,                                                     To attract and treat every person equal,                                                               I can wear brown mask for all the days,                                                              If there is any funny resolution of will,                       .                                           I shall follow it for your satisfactory ways.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Don'T Go To Wyoming Alone

He's a versatile "man of all trades,"
pursues anything new, virtually self-made.
He's a photographer, a minister and a poet,
immerses himself totally but before you know it

he's off and running, tackling something new
He's built homes, cell towers, churches, boss of the crew.
He publishes books, serves as president of our group
If something's happening he's never out of the loop.

A proud do-it-yourselfer, he repairs whatever breaks,
services cars, saws down trees, no matter what it takes.
He took voice lessons, learned to fly a plane,
changed the course of my life, but let me explain.

He was teaching, after hours, for extra money
"I'm saving this for a big vacation, honey.
We're going to Africa, we're gonna hunt big game
for a mere eight thousand, we'll have anything you name.

At this ranch in S. Africa, the wife's a gourmet cook,
irons your clothes while hubby shows where to look."
He built me a special gun, said I could learn to shoot;
took me to the practice range, bought pricey hunting boots.

I took Mother west to Casper visiting my younger sister.
We stayed four weeks in Wyoming because Mom missed her.
Returning home to Missouri, I was surprised to see
he'd purchased a quarter-share in a Cherokee.

I didn't mind much, after initial fear had waned;
I enjoyed seeing America, flying the skies in that plane.
We moved out of St. Louis away from all the noise
built our "old folks home" with retirement as the ploy.

Another trip to Wyoming alone, without my mate
That Piper 235 is history; I returned, alas, too late.
He'd sold his beloved plane and purchased something new,
a grand New Holland tractor painted blue, with a neon hue.

Now he's mowing ten acres and grading a gravel road,
plowing up the garden, with me sharing the load.
My life changed drastically with all my options gone.
If you plan to hunt in Africa, don't go to Wyoming alone.

You must listen closely now for the most important factor,
that's how my trip to Africa eventually became a tractor.
© Cona Adams  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Soul Thirsting For God -Psalm 143

My soul cries unto the Lord my God
this is my plea from this old heart
confessing that no one's righteous
our enemy pursues me by deadly dart

Fainting within me all my hope
remember your times from of old
meditate on all of God's goodness
pursue Him as would fine gold

O my Lord give me your answer
hide not for a moment your face
my trust is in you sovereign Lord
show your way by your merciful grace

My God point out your perfect will
save my life for your name's sake
lead me always on straight path
provide preservation from that snake

Thanks for your steadfast love
so my enemies you will destroy
I am your servant humbly I bow
to you O Lord my crowning joy

(PSALM 143
'Hear my prayer, O Lord, give ear to my supplications: in thy faithfulness answer me, and in thy righteousness.
And enter not into judgment with thy servant: for in thy sight shall no man living be justified.
For the enemy hath persecuted my soul; he hath smitten my life down to the ground; he hath made me to dwell in darkness, as those that have been long dead.
Therefore is my spirit overwhelmed within me; my heart within me is desolate.
I remember the days of old; I meditate on all thy works; I muse on the work of thy hands.
I stretch forth my hands unto thee: my soul thirsteth after thee, as a thirsty land.
Hear me speedily, O Lord: my spirit faileth: hide not thy face from me, lest I be like unto them that go down into the pit.
Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust: cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; for I lift up my soul unto thee.
Deliver me, O Lord, from mine enemies: I flee unto thee to hide me.
Teach me to do thy will; for thou art my God: thy spirit is good; lead me into the land of uprightness.
Quicken me, O Lord, for thy name's sake: for thy righteousness' sake bring my soul out of trouble.
And of thy mercy cut off mine enemies, and destroy all them that afflict my soul: for I am thy servant.)

(King James Version (KJV))
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member When None Pursure You

O, Holy people Israel you are freed and redeemed
O, Holy people Israel you are freed and redeemed
This is how you worship the Lord
This is how you worship the Lord
This is how you worship the Lord
Though sacrifice and obedience
When none pursue you
None can hold you
None can mold you
For you are glory

 Holy people Israel you are freed and redeemed
O, Holy people Israel you are freed and redeemed
This is how you worship the Lord
All these things going on the wicked flee
Where no pursues of men led to be
But the righteous are bold as the lion
Stand tall marching to Zion

O, Holy people Israel you are freed and redeemed
O, Holy people Israel you are freed and redeemed
This is how you worship the Lord
This is how you worship the Lord
This is how you worship the Lord
When none pursue you
None can hold you
None can mold you
For you are glory

There in great fear where no fear was or is
For God has scattered the bones of those to the crows
Them that encamped against you God mighty shrews
And you shall fee when none pursue you
And you shall be known before you, none before you
and you shall fee when none pursue you
There's no one mightier than you

O, Holy people of America you are waiting
Wait, stand tall rejoice in all
That the Lord gives you still yet favor
We're not worthy we're still heathens
We have gone away from God's own natural ways
What once was right now is wrong
If you don't believe it then just keep on living


 Holy people Israel you are freed and redeemed
O, Holy people Israel you are freed and redeemed
This is how you worship the Lord
All these things going on the wicked flee
Where no pursues of men led to be
But the righteous are bold as the lion
Stand tall marching to Zion
And you shall fee when none pursue you
And you shall be known before you, none before you
and you shall fee when none pursue you
There's no one mightier than you
My brother, my sister when none pursue you

03/09/14
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
Form: Lyric

I Will Rise

From the depths of struggle, where shadows loom and hide,
I'll rise, unbroken, with a spirit that won't subside.
Like a phoenix from the ashes, I'll emerge anew,
With flames that fuel my soul, and a heart that's pure and true.

Through life's trials and tribulations, I'll find my way,
With every step, I'll rise, and chase the darkness away.
I'll stand tall and unafraid, like a mountain strong and high,
Unshaken by the winds of doubt, and the storms that pass me by.

The mountains I'll climb, the oceans I'll swim,
I'll conquer every obstacle, and rise above the din.
Through fire and rain, I'll walk, unshaken and unmoved,
For in the midst of storms, I'll find peace, and a love that's improved.

With every breath, I'll pray, and seek guidance on my way,
For strength to carry on, through life's trials and swaying.
I'll rise, like the morning sun, that chases away the night,
And brings new hope, and new light, to all that's been fought for in the fight.

Tears will dry, and disappear, like morning dew,
Problems will vanish, like mist that the sun pursues.
No sorrow, no worries, no struggle, tomorrow will bring,
For I'll rise, like dust that's lifted, by the wind's gentle wing.

My dreams will be fulfilled, my desires, all that I've prayed,
A new chapter will unfold, and the old me will be displayed.
The mockers, and the snickers, will be silenced, and shamed,
For I'll rise, like the sun, in all its glory, proclaimed.

I'll shine like diamonds, reflect light, and sparkle bright,
I'll glow like gold, refined, in the fire, and made pure, and light.
I'll be a beacon of hope, in a world that's lost its way,
A shining star, that guides others, through the darkness of each day.

I was never born to suffer, I'm a winner, through and through,
A finisher, not just a starter, a victor, with a story anew.
I'll rise, and I'll shine, and I'll make my mark,
A trailblazer, a pathfinder, with a heart that's left its spark.

Premium Member Spartan Riches

Spartan Riches
                by Odin Roark

Creation asks not for center stage

How plentiful these quiet treasures
Demanding not a price
Void of glitter 
Gaff
And loud acclaim drowning
Senses
Reason

Imagination pursues instead
Honesty’s nod
The up and down gesture
Everyday patrons volunteer
On discovering virtuosity’s subtle essence

Just as a flower needs but sunshine and moisture
So too the Van Goghs of everyday living
Patiently await man’s simple willingness
To emote with the light of a smile
Perhaps even tears
Knowing as in nature
Creative efforts spawn
Reciprocal wavelengths of appreciation
Finding respite wherever 
An honest heart and mind’s tuning fork awaits

Often

Creation senses not the obvious
Artistry’s honorific slips
Obliging a personage quest
Unaware resultant luminary trappings
Often engender insecurities
Petrifying life’s inner sanctum
That place where inception seeds the unknown
Bestows lasting memories
Where both a mother’s caress
And the brush strokes of oiled color
Add to the canvas of expectancy’s
Freely shared gifts and rewards

Too late at times

Inspiration succumbs to notoriety’s demands
Obliging a servitude to fame
Risking enslavement
Either to gilded prisons
Or the bridled razor wire of power 
Needing to gallop down a home stretch
Willingly adding to the blood-laden turf
Determined the day’s finish line
Will provide yet another carrot
To satiate the bestial appetite for superiority

Fortunately

A meaningful number
Manage to avoid a system’s pandering
Obviating trophydom’s trap
Existing solely as creation’s flow
Appeasing those whose hearts and minds
Seek but revelation of impact
A seeding of possible enlightenment
Respecting the virtue of namelessness

So goes the Spartan riches
Accumulating with anonymous authenticity
Giving it’s own reciprocal nod
Back to that which inspires creativity

All without demands

Without price
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

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