Long Raison Poems
Long Raison Poems. Below are the most popular long Raison by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Raison poems by poem length and keyword.
I hate the essence of you
Killing I shall not do
I will have babies a many
Teaching them my hate
Tutor them to swing the sword
You shall be beheaded
Bloody and red
Better of dead
Soon to be
I will stare into your begging eyes
As you gasp a last breath
I shall spit upon your fears
Whispering see me? I see you die
Feel my hate, the hotness of hell upon you
Your deadness I shall kick into the desert sand
There, people shall see your suffering and loss
As we dance in joy, hate is our fiesta, our raison d’etre
We love, we love to hate, if feeds us like black cancer
Now maybe your tribe shall return
You shall seek justice
Punishment
You wish to prevent my hate, the bloodshed abate
Go ahead try
Kill my babies
All of them
I shall make more, many more
My lust for hate shall create more human venom
I will fill them with the wine of my bitterness
Eternity shall be the circle... bête noir
Killing and suffering
Let all the babies die
Mine and yours
I must win, and taunt you
Hatred shall burn open the gates of hell
One day.my dream was shattered
You tossed a bouquet of flowers
At my Child's feet
He looked me in the eye
The sword passed through my soul
In shock and disbelief
As blood fed my grave
My hate faded
My life faded
My dreams died
Nothing mattered any more
My child lifted his sword
With his tongue he licked my blood
Tears became a monsoon, drowning his heart
He fell to my breast, and murmured
Dear parent
The hate must stop
I one day will dream of a child
Whom I promise you dear parent
I shall love him far more
Than I hate my enemy
I love you
I have returned to my island home . Work has brought me back this way. So much has changed since Irma passed this way. I wander the streets in utter dismay. Gone are the shops and the reefs where I use to swim and play.
They say the island never forgets their native sons and to my core I believe this true. Where ever I go people stop say ‘oh doc so good your back are you here to stay? Sadly, no is my muted reply but I will be back on that you can rely. The old office is there with new owners but I still sit at my old desk and chair. My patients return and I pray take care of their needs. Perhaps it is through them I find my raison d’exister. But for what ever the future may hold in store. My heart resides here now and for ever more.
Form:
Let he who is without vanity cast the first insult
Vain to me smacks of superficialities which
in the long run prove fragile and meaningless
You can be proud of your accomplishments
without worries of being vain
Lose your hair, lose your teeth, lose your looks,
lose your vanity
Fashion statements
Youth
Dress-up make-up
Forsooth
A little vanity never hurt anybody
Until it becomes the substance of your life
Uncouth
Raison d'être
It’s not necessarily a negative asset
conceit
conceded
vain
narcissism
self-love
self-admiration
self-regard
self-absorption...
...Is self-love really considered vanity?
Ronald Rump reasonably roasted
Remarkable – recourse retaining rickety
rambling reverence regarding “r.”
Ronald Rump
repugnant racist republican reviled -
rickettsia re:itch ruler.
Rapaciously ravaged
revered reverential rubric.
Radical ruthless renegade
rapidly riotously ripped rigged ramparts.
Refrained retaining remnant
redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
Riches rudely ruptured rooted rectified rights.
Ruckus ricocheted revenant reign.
Ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
Rambunctious rapscallions rollicked;
rendered ruinous ramifications.
Rusty razor razing revenge rented reprisal.
Rabid rectal rictus rotten
rebranded re-calibrated redoubt.
Rambunctious revolutionaries rejoiced.
Ruffians rode roughshod
routing reigning royalty.
Reiterated revetting robust recidivist rationality.
Rode Rolls Royce relentlessly
rendering rock ribbing.
Riffraff raconteur raised reactionary response.
Revisited rancorous restrictive
redlined realigned rightward rivets.
Robocop ridiculously
rubber-stamped reorganization.
Recalcitrant reactors released rapture.
Rash Russian roulette
reconnaissance raconteurs racked rubles.
Red room reflected Republican RNA.
Rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats
revoked righteous refulgent repertory.
Rapier robed robbers ransacked
reliquary resounding retaliation.
Retaliatory redcoat regnum
reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiled rapprochement
raison d'être rosily revered
rifled relics raffled.
Rookie raves ripe rackful
rubenesque reliably ranked.
Refulgent rotundity requisite
requirement re: reappointment.
Road-tested, roadworthy
redeem reapportion routed role.
Reprehensible reassignment
rapidly recognizes response.
Rife rampage removed respectability – respect.
Responsible roused restitution refuted.
Risky resultant reconnoitering
runaway railroad reverberated rivalry.
Reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirmed
redoubling ridding revitalization.
Reconfiguration realpolitik reinstated repudiation
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
Requisition required resilient reseeding republic.
Regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing.
Rare recount restoring recondite
renown reprobate Rapunzel.
Republican representatives
rejoice reclaiming reins.
In the hallowed chambers of my heart, a sanctuary of love and devotion, you reside, my family, an indelible presence that animates my very existence. You are the raison d'être of my nocturnal vigils, the catalyst of my tireless endeavors, and the symphony that orchestrates the cadence of my soul. Without you, life would be a barren expanse, a hollow echo of what could have been.
You are the reason I persevere, the beacon that illuminates the darkest recesses of uncertainty, and the haven where I find solace in the tempest's eye. Your needs, your tears, your hungers, they are the drums that beat in my chest, the rhythm that drives me forward, even when the dawn seems shrouded in darkness.
I will forever prioritize you, my beloveds, for you are the reason I don the armor of diligence, the reason I brave the trials of each new day. You are the reason I weep when the weight in of life becomes almost too much to bear, and the reason I rise, phoenix-like, from the ashes of despair.
In the quiet moments, when the world is hushed, and I am left to confront my own fragility, it is your faces that I see, your smiles that I hear, and your love that I feel, infusing me with the courage to press on. You are the reason I keep moving, the reason I stay, even when the colors of life run, and the palette of my soul is besmirched with the grime of struggle.
Know this, my dear ones, you are the reason I breathe, the reason I strive, and the reason I am. Forever and always, you will be my guiding star, my North, my South, my East, and my West. For in you, I find my raison d'être, my heartbeat, my everything.
Whether virtual or actual paths cross,
aye great thee ahoy
no fear Mademoiselle or Monsieur,
thy harried style haint cloy
rather, when embarking
on introductory acquaintance
ship, aye employ
swiftly tailored indistinguishable,
asper this wordsmith mebbe goy
or Jew, yet genealogically
thine Semitic lineage,
unknown descendants begat,
one generation after
stitched another thread,
whence warp and woof, sans dat
(moth eaten tattered wool worth
coat of arms), twas slim and/or fat
chance biologic dice throw
adumbrated me Matt,
a skinny, quirky,
and nerdy kid, who sat
alone during lunchtime
at school pained, plagued,
and pronounced with extreme,
where introversion didst agitate
chronic state of misery being alive
immobilized, hogtied, and forfeited
natural predilection
to discover and create
heterosexual relationships,
viz interpersonal experiences
re: raison to date
initial intimate rapport
(anxiety fraught) fate
full situation with a gal
giving her good grief great
(yes, twas Maryann Sage),
who understandably became irate
predicated on lack
of mine demonstrative affection
quickly becoming an unsuitable mate
though now in retrospect
(hindsight always 20/20)
a sudden resurgent spate
finds remembrance of things passed
(with her) engendering
cerebral tete a tete
rankling memories,
hence for death aye cannot wait!
Buried in the dungeon of oblivion
Was the agony that once gripped me
When I was persecuted because of my faith
As a new convert to Christianity which the Bible teaches.
Now, the memory of such phase in my life is being resurrected
While I’m engrossed watching a significant event in world history,
The Dark Ages with its gruesome horrible Inquisition Period
Exposing the “Martyrdom of the Fathers of Our Faith.”
Vividly, the images of religious persecution prevail with glorious triumph
As they present fervent devotion to the almighty sovereign God
Expressed by those illumined by the Holy Spirit and freed from sins’ shackles
Whose raison d'être was to please their supreme Creator
like what the New Testament saints did, who even asserted:
“We ought to obey God rather than men.”
With such nostalgic mood, I’m reminded of how the Lord worked in my life
When I was once under fiery trial in my young believer’s life
By the tender mercy of God along His compassionate might
I emerged victorious --- praising Him, exalting His name
Assured of my Saviour’s precious words in John 16:33:
“…In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer;
I have overcome the world.”
Thus, amidst sufferings that go along my commitment in serving God
Despite consternation belittling my sacrifices for heavenly pursuits
I’m humbled to abide in the will of my Master,
bearing in mind this Scripture’s truth:
“Yet if any man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed;
but let him glorify God on this behalf” (I Peter 4:16).
October 10, 2018
3rd place, "REMEMBERING WHAT YOU WANT TO FORGET" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Rodrigues; judged on 10/15/2018.
The wolf
When I was a child,
I dreamt of white picket fences,
And cuddling on a coach.
Long walks on a beach,
And hot chocolate on a winters’ night.
Instead three months into marriage.
I was welcome with a fist.
My dreams were scattered into nightmares of horrors and pain,
My hopes were blowing up in vain.
Although life was growing inside me.
It did not stop the pain.
More beatings and humiliation,
Leads to lies, to family, doctors and friends.
How long must I keep on?
Or my walls will crumbling down.
My wolf is not outside my house,
That blows my house down.
He lied his way inside,
And broke my guard down.
Like a pig prepared for slaughter,
He broke me piece by piece down.
His howls was just as worst as bites,
He brought his wrath down with might.
Can someone please come rescue me?
From the big bad wolf,
Whose huffs and puffs,
Blow me down.
Date: 6/08/21
Contest: Word Play Poems with Play -on-word Raison D'etre--Poetry
Sponsor: John Anderson
My beloved, you and I, an inseparable duet,
Two souls entwined in an eternal pas de deux,
Our hearts beating in tandem like two wings of a bird
Soaring effortlessly on the thermals of devotion.
We are the embodiment of fate's masterful orchestration,
Two kindred spirits predestined to converge,
Our love a sublime symphony that resonates across the firmament,
A celestial harmony that echoes through eternity.
In your eyes, my love, I behold the reflected glory of the divine,
A beauty that transcends mortality, a radiance that shines.
You are my élan vital, my raison d'être, the missing piece that makes me whole,
My forever haven, my guiding star, my soul's sweet home.
Forever and always, my love shall be the sanctuary where you find solace,
The safe haven where your heart can beat freely, wild, and unencumbered.
I love you more than words can articulate, more than the heavens are vast,
And the oceans are deep, you are the luminous essence that illuminates my existence.
My 'sillyness' hat is atop my head
As I begin this September day
Who knows where this weird mind of mine
Will take me, who's to say
Could go where no man's tread before
To the outer limits of comedy
On second thought, that's probably not it
Sylvester the Cat is my matey
Thuffering succotash! I'm totally lost
Where's my silliness gene
How could I be so simply darn careless
Silliness is a part of my scene
It defines the jester within my soul
Always been my, “raison d'être”
Betcha you didn't know I was multilingual
No telling how far that'll get ya!
Perhaps the U.N. with its many lingoes
Interpreting the countless speeches
Seems my 'silly' gene is alive and well
Returned from the outer reaches
© Jack Ellison 2013