Long Question Poems
Long Question Poems. Below are the most popular long Question by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Question poems by poem length and keyword.
Is it real or are you faking
it? ;
Can you testify truly
without a hit?
That it is as strong as it
seems? ;
Even in the absence of
every being;
You are poised to create a
scene;
That goes against all sins;
I could call you the mustard
seed;
But, is it worth it? ;
It is one thing to be known
for something;
And another to be firm in
acting;
The story begins with the
action;
The test;
The great test that you
can’t detest;
Your arms are tied;
Sitted in that waiting room;
And like a criminal that is
tried;
You shiver like its all going
to end in doom;
No! She must live…;
That’s what goes through
your mind;
And even a quick magic
right
now, you won’t dare to
mind;
I thought you had it in you;
I thought it was for real;
Even after all the binding;
And through all the casting;
Your mind is still in a doubt
situation;
And you run helter skelter
in search of a faster
solution;
From Church to Church;
From Temple to Temple;
And alas! From shrine to
shrine;
How then can the light
shine?
As it has finally been lost
for a
cheap fine;
The word says it’s the
evidence of
things not seen;
The assurance of things
hoped for;
A supernatural gift given to
you;
And yet your distance from
it grew;
Like both sides of a forever
widening canyon;
You once testified;
That he was crucified;
Not for nothing sake;
But for our whole spiritual
make;
A good reason for our
belief in him;
And our total submission;
Have you forgotten or are
you blinded? ;
Blinded by impatience and
greed;
And now;
The big question;
Where lays your faith?
Is he not the same as he
was in the past?
The healer, the provider, the
protector;
The I am that I am;
Where lays your faith?
An encouraging answer
would
spark up a good fate;
After all the roaming for
quick solution;
You still come back to your
place
of true solution;
Inevitable!
That’s the word;
He raised Lazarus from the
dead;
He said a word and the evil
spirits
fled;
Does that ring a bell?
I guess it does now;
And it’s clear that you once
lost
the faith;
And luckily it’s not too late;
Use the kneeler;
Make that prayer;
Have the belief;
Feel the relief;
And Alleluia
The problem is all gone;
The story of faith;
Preaching to your state;
Good or bad;
Hope it is real;
Hope it’s not fake;
Your faith;
THE NEWS
____________________________________________________________
Life Defined by Moments Blindsided
written by The Broken Hearted
Read the news today. There is blues Obituary
today. Agony in whatever we choose His life was extraordinary.
today. Is there no other way than Proud family, wife named Glory
to escape the day? Why did you have His children Edward and Tory
to end your life this way? Too many Died Monday first of July
have to question there own sanity Police give no reason why
taking your own life, is it vanity? Service will be held at one
Trying to control your own calamity? a potluck diner after it is done.
Why didn't you just converse with ________________________
somebody? Isn't that how it is
suppose to be? No one is suppose JOIN THE ARMY
to feel so alone that they end their
own life. What are we going to do A Bright Future
as society? It is paralyzing to think Awaits YOU!
of what could be, when we take to
the destruction personally. It is not ______________________
suppose to be that way. Pages ripped
away, the book is close and can't be oil change
replayed. A story over and its gone. 14.99
___________________________________________________________
POLICE BEAT
Police arrived on the scene shortly after hearing a gun shot fired on the second block of Hayes Road. A male was found deceased with a self inflicted wound to the head.
Cat in a tree on Main street. Firefighters, paramedics and officers dispatched. Cat is safe without injury.
_____________________________________________________________
WEATHER Lottery Numbers
Partly cloudy with chance of
thunderstorms. 85 degreess 6, 42, 66, 81, 89 01
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Folded away, tossed aside, no longer in view.
Nothing else printed, nothing else said about you.
We'll probably move on, we'll probably heal,
and we'll never have known what you feel.
I know I have a special purpose for my life,
I'm just struggling to answer
One question, what's my calling?
I don't know.
God I'm struggling I don't know what to do
What is it that I want to do?
I thought I knew at one point, but that plan didn't go
Like driving in a car but the air won't flow.
I know I'm your beloved son
And in me is whom you are well pleased
But sometimes I feel lost
Without a guide to point me down the right path.
Help me to see who it is I'm called be,
Who am I supposed to lead?
I don't have any answers
I pray you speak to me.
Help me hear what it is you want from me
As I begin to cry, I wish I could wipe my eyes
But tears still continue to fall from my eyes.
No matter how much I try my cheeks will never be dry
God I don't what am I supposed to do?
Pray and wait for you
I remember a few weeks back, my friend sent me a text
Saying she supports and believes in my dreams,
My parents said the same thing
So I know I'm loved and supported
By love from up above
Open my ear God I need to hear from you
What it is that I'm called to do?
Show others the light of Christ
How can I do that, when I don't even know your calling for my life?
I feel like I'm letting everyone down
I have no answers.
I want to make an impact but can't reenact my old plan
I accept that I need help, God reveal your plan.
I put my life in your hands
Please show me your perfect plan
And I will be the best me that I can
I give you full control,
Help me get my life under control.
I know I'll find my place you always make a way
No matter what path I take you will make everything okay
I have chosen to follow only in your ways
And read your word for the rest of my days.
I'm not in this on my own there's no way,
I can't make it traveling my own way
I need help, I need advice.
I know you'll never leave my side
No need for me to duck and hide.
You're glued to me, more like me to you
After all, everything I will ever need is found in you.
My old nature has been tossed out,
I'm a new man with a new plan
Reequipped and reset
Now I'm ready for the next step.
Get a vision, create a path,
Time for me to get my life back on track.
I know I have a special calling on my life
To share the light of Jesus Christ
What's your calling for my life?
I don't know what's my calling?
What if you were an inhabitant of a world
Where there's no hate, greed, jealousy, envy, and pride;
And one is not enraged by the prosperity of another?
What if conceit and enmity are erased from the course of history,
And malignity is perpetually swallowed in the deepest of pits,
Sinking to rise no more?
What if your subconscious ideate a world
Filled with love, peace, and harmony?
What if Seven Billion human beings could live together under one canopy,
Tending to and upholding high esteem for one another
As benevolence becomes the ultimate act,
That reigns over all timelines?
What if we put aside the destructive comparisons and competitions,
And every individual follows his or her own path
While uplifting all others at the same time?
What if the promotion of individuality and self productivity,
Was the niche of every human —one to another—
And every gift and talent was equally consequential to society?
What if there was no lust for power
And political leaders as well as government officials,
Assume offices not to seek their own selfish interests
By misappropriating public funds, and embezzling state owned belongings to enrich themselves?
What if they had the sincere dedication
To ensure the welfare and security of the state and its citizens?
What if this world was a sanctuary of peace with the nonexistence of violence,
Where nations were aimed at building, rather than destroying one another?
What if unity becomes a compelling force
That binds the Earth to its core,
And compassion remains the lifelong element
That keeps the Universe in motion?
What if the globe was entirely void
of racism, prejudice, discrimination, and partiality;
Where each and every human was afforded equally the same opportunity
Regardless of their race, sex, ethnicity, culture or nationality?
What if we could finally dwell in a word once dreamed of by Martin Luther King Jr.,
Where "humans will no longer be judged based on the color of their skin, but by the contents of their character"?
There is an extreme power in these questions!
But what if they were a reality, can you imagine what we could all achieve?
What if you allow that imagination to create pictures of transformations?
What if you act stepwise from these unceasing questions,
And give it a chance to become a momentous action,
To make this Planet a better Creation?
Remember when that flash of insight
last self-ignited in your expectant thoughts
blasting away the fog of uncertainty, complexity and doubt.
A sudden aha Eureka answer, pure, simple, so succinct, beautiful.
To some this flash of aha is called duration, or a blink. insight, acumen, Eureka!
But, my friend, how, why, when, where, do these Aha moments arise?
Can we conger up more for ourselves, fill a treasure cheat with insights?
Or is this quest a waste of time, as no treasure map exits. But does it?
Can we ever know with what, and how, and when to cast the magic wand?
Does our search for meaning, inquiries lay the foundation?
Can we prepare the way ahead in some way or other?
Think back, my friend, did these gems
always spring up unexpectedly, and what occurred beforehand?
These aha Euekas cannot be scheduled or delayed,
cannot be snuck-up on, snared nor detected,
cannot be forced out nor guaranteed to appear.
Euekas are not rewards for hard work, perhaps the opposite is true.
How often does lazy and shallow wader get the creative rewards.
Chance is never fair in its rewards for hard work.
Often, an Aha taps us on the shoulder, we are least expecting it,
out of the blue, saying: "Look at Me. Look at Me".
When gobbled up with glee, it washes over and transforms us.
We are never be the same. It makes our day.
Does begging the question, ignoring the answers laid out
make it pop up from the soup into an inquiring mind?
Or does it appear when we raise questions to that have already been answered well?
Does it appear when we thin-slice the book to separate the leaves?
Often mistakes and errors have led to great breakthroughs
like penicillin, radioactivity, the color mauve and plastics.
What does this mean to you and your Aha Eureka pot of gold?
Should we be less careful, more observant for the unusual?
The Aha Eureka is a fleeting feeling, easily lost in the blink of an eye,
rampant, capricious, imperceptible, unbounded, elusive
like seeing something in the corner of the eye at dusk,
if you look straight at it, it's gone, look back again, it's there again.
For me it can be a matter of serendipity.
The more I see, the more I do, the more I explore, the more hits are triggered.
Many total restarts from scratch, often helps.
But, for me the one simple things
that works is lay me down to rest,
and to sleep on it!
My elementary school was a box full of broken crayons.
You know, the kind that no one likes to use because they fit inside your hands like a hug that lasts three seconds too long.
Me and my classmates wore
hand-me-down smiles.
They were too big for our faces. We figured that eventually we would somehow grow into the sound of our own laughter, put on our happiness like gloves and wear our skin as if our bodies were made by Louie Vuitton, just hoping to be more than tattered pages ripped from the torso of coloring books.
More than the aftermath of two runaway trains headed to the same direction. Our parents drove their affection without insurance, and we are just head on collisions with no coverage. We got shattered windshields for eyes, and tongues made out of safely glass held together by super glue. It’s no wonder we spoke broken English.
With an entire orchestra drowning inside our throats, veins like guitar strings, our voices cracked like the self esteem of single mothers who carried us in their wombs like Molotov cocktails, and prayed that we would somehow find a way to mature into land mines
exploding underneath the feet that have trampled them for too long. These women, they dream in a language only fully understood by the tiles of an abortion clinic on a busy afternoon.
They raised us on top of broken promises made by men with grape jelly in their spines who were too busy jamming to their own
two-cent mix tape that they chose over their priceless women.
We didn’t come with a screwdriver. There is no picture on our box to show you what we should look like when this all is over.
We were just put into this world with a note that read
“Some assembly required.”
We were built inside of a neighborhood that looked as though it was slowly loosing a fist fight to cancer and kemotherapy claimed all of it’s dreams.
You see at a young age I was told that no matter how much furniture you move with a Honda Civic, it’ll never be a pick up truck
but have you ever wanted to be more than what you were made for?
Was there ever moment in your life when all you wanted was to be more than the wounded options that circumstance has nailed to your shoulders?
People question why we even have the audacity to breathe. That’s why when we walk it looks as though we are apologizing for our lungs.
But we ate not sorry for living this loudly.
It’s the only way we know how.
“I am somebody’s child, and I need attention, I am somebody’s child and I need affection, I am somebody’s child and I need love and devotion”, she murmured as she walked through the door. She wasn’t sure where she was going when she left the house; she wasn’t sure about the next encounter, but she walked for five hours until she reaches the border.
The speed, at which she moved, left everyone confused but she was determined to make a point just to stay alive. She did not plan a journey she just wanted to live, and hang out with the daffodils but the trap was already set before they made the bet. She could sense it from within and so she had to learn to swim; with strength in her arms and strides in her feet, she made it through the dark before the break of dawn.
They searched everywhere for her, but they could not find her, the public became aware of it and they start to build a myth. Officer Jones devised a plan to begin the search mission he knew what he had up his sleeve, because he was so hard to please. He had laid the ground work to start digging up dirt, to catch the big fish and throw them back into the ditch, the climate was right and the alibi was riding high in the sky.
The search went on for days with no sight of her abducted in the bush or held captive by the brook; it was just one of those situations where you have to keep on top of things before the universe done you in.
The cheese, and the pie, the crown and the dye were just too reveling so they had to search for another meaning, and the sky was their only hope to keep sailing on the boat and so the narrative changed to give her all the blame.
Was it a crime torn area or someone lost their way and bumped into a criminal flattering in the sky that is a one-hundred-dollar question from a village miner who could not fit the pieces together for the director or the operator.
And so, the question remains, whose back was she trying to cover? My mind wander and wander and it didn’t look like a deal that turned sour, neither was it a set up by gate to discover something before it was too late. Everything seems to be in perfect harmony with the guitar, the piano, the band and the musical director.
The great Gatsby would have won the case if Tom Buchanan had not shot him in the pool over the death of Myrtle Wilson his darling wife. "I am somebody’s child," she screamed.
...His starting point, after much hustling,
was a diner at the edge of the town,
the man who had once built massive bridges
now spent his days at work frying hash browns.
Working for a pittance, day after day,
the only place that would dare give him pay.
About three months into doing such work,
just after the breakfast rush was complete,
he saw a woman enter the diner,
with two young boys, she looked about forty.
Time had done little to Alan’s ex-wife,
Whitney was a queen, hallowed in his sight.
He tried to hide, but Whitney caught a glimpse,
a flabbergasted look clear on her face,
but he made no move to go talk with her,
and she had two kids, could not leave her place.
His heart pounded until Whitney had left,
seeing her moved over felt much worse than death.
She had proclaimed that she would stand with him
when the accusations first had been made,
but the media had taken its toll,
he had watched her resolve drain, day by day,
until the day that the verdict had come,
when he’d been locked up, then it had been done.
She’d started divorce, he didn’t contest,
it was something he could not do to her,
she’d wanted children, normal existence,
all the things that a good woman deserved.
With him in prison, that would be denied,
so he’d signed the papers, and said goodbye.
It had been simple, before he’d been freed,
when he had not had a reason to hope,
now, seeing her, with some other man’s kids,
seemed beyond his ability to cope,
a wound that wouldn’t heal, slowly bleeding,
making him question the point of being.
But the next day, when his shift was over,
and he was walking slowly for the bus,
he saw a G-wagon, and his Whitney,
and his heart started racing then because
there were no kids there, no shield she could use,
confronting this was what he could not do.
But she came forwards, her face fresh with tears,
struggling hard to keep herself composed,
until she broke down, and embraced Alan,
saying, “I’m sorry…how-how could I know?
I’m not sure how to deal with this because
I don’t know why she would do this to us!
“Now I’m left looking at a man I love,
that I abandoned, I’m ashamed it’s true…
We were so happy, but now all I see
is all the things that I’ve taken from you.
The life you deserved, that I thought we’d build,
her lies and my weakness…it’s all been killed.”
CONTINUES IN PART III.
Listen and you can hear the wind whisper
the name of a lost ship and its skipper.
The wind’s name is Favonius, winged god
His sotto voce is but a whimper.
Gentle breeze doth tell of China Clipper
Bound back toward London by English shipper
Lost from sight ten days out of Adelaide
for all those involved a real fear gripper.
Fast Lammermuir was used in the tea trade,
Built by W. Pile’s Company twas then made
Clipper’s capacity a thousand tons
With errant compass windjammer now strayed
Off course by three degrees vessel now runs,
till Mate’s use of sextant now captain stuns
Ocean current is also a surprise
This phenomenon Captain Bell now shuns
The current wants to go counter clockwise
Loss of ship’s control is what this implies
Sails unable to give pull to the right
though steersman at wheel with strength vainly tries
Lammermuir was in a terrible fight
Not turning right was a dangerous plight
All hands on deck knew their situation
Hard battle continued both day and night
Exactly where was their lost location
Question captain sought with much vexation
Average speed of Jammer was fifteen knots
Get back on course or it’s their damnation
No welcome sight of other ships or yachts
Current’s tying captain’s stomach in knots
Break free now or else certain death will come
Possibility gives worrisome thoughts.
New day same latitude they’d started from
A three hundred mile circle left all numb
From circling current they couldn’t break free
Trying all things they refused to succumb.
Lighten ship over the side went the tea
Sails pulled harder still that wasn’t the key
Rear stern chaser was next without effect
Flying, scared lady raced over the sea
Caught fast in a maelstrom of no escape
Swirling in circles of concentric shape
Ever decreasing circumference toward hole
Ever increasing speed toward yawing gape
West wind speaks no more of piteous sight
Wraps wings to cover eyes from ship’s bad plight
Finis, finis, Lammermuir sails no more
Ending day ends in blanket of black night.
Distance To London From Adelaide is:
10110 miles / 16270.47 km / 8785.35 nautical miles
Distance To Shanghai From Adelaide is:
4706 miles / 7573.57 km / 4089.4 nautical miles
Ladies and gentlemen,
Let’s take a moment to reflect on what happened in Venezuela. In the blink of an eye, everyone became a **multimillionaire**—not because the economy was thriving, but because hyperinflation piled up so much worthless money, people could barely carry it. Piles of cash with no real value. It’s a harsh reminder that money itself is not an asset if it can be manipulated to the point of collapse.
So, **where do you put your money?** This is the burning question in today’s uncertain economic climate. We’ve seen trillions wiped out of the stock market, and people are starting to worry. With central banks printing money and stock markets artificially inflated, where do you go to preserve your wealth? What is truly an **asset**?
An asset is something that holds value over time. But to understand how long your asset will last, you need to know two things: its value and the cost to maintain it. The reality is, if you’re holding onto an asset that requires too much upkeep, or worse—its value is tied to a depreciating currency—its lifespan will be cut short.
**Look at what’s happening right now.** The stock market, once soaring, is starting to falter. The markets are high, but we all know the **Feds** are coming. The next **FOMC** meeting will likely bring changes, and many are anticipating interest rates to be cut. We’ve already seen **50 bps points** pinned from previous CPI data, but the big question remains—what’s going to happen with rising geopolitical tensions in the **Middle East**, upcoming elections, and Japan’s interest rates, which have been low for so long?
This brings me to a crucial point: the **acquisition of the right assets.** In uncertain times like these, it’s not about following the herd into the stock market or real estate. It’s about finding assets that will **survive and thrive**. And I believe we’re going to start seeing a shift. We might witness **America considering Bitcoin** as a part of its reserve. Think about it: decentralized, free from the manipulation of central banks, and capped in supply.
Ladies and gentlemen, as we navigate this economic landscape, remember: **it’s not about chasing inflated markets or relying on printed money**. It’s about securing assets that have true value and can withstand the tests of time and turmoil. The future belongs to those who understand this fundamental truth.
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