Long Raul Poems
Long Raul Poems. Below are the most popular long Raul by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Raul poems by poem length and keyword.
Few years back I use to make Paintings
Mostly of landscapes
And sometimes, abstracts or portraits
The oil paintings which I use to make were such,
That anyone would have
Found them to possess and love
It was a season of Christmas and I was
Strolling, when I saw two beautiful poetry books
One on the season of Autumn and other on Christmas
It had a bunch of adorable world of poetry
So beautiful and so lovely
Printed with beautiful photos and scenes
The photo of Jesus was so enchanting
With His loving eyes spreading
The message of peace, love and humanity
One day when I was trying to draw a sketch
My brush started making on its own
A beautiful picture of Jesus
One evening, when that portrait of Jesus
Was almost complete
A Christian friend of mine saw that picture fine
He was overwhelmed with joy and love
And hugged me as if I was someone very fine
He asked me? If I can gift that portrait to a Church divine
I had felt a joy in making that beautiful portrait
But giving it for a place of shrine
Was the most wonderful feeling, one can cherish in his life time
He asked me to come with that portrait of Jesus Christ
And give that gift to his Church on Christmas Day
In the Church, where he was going to prey
I can never forget that Christmas day
While seeing that lovely portrait of Jesus
The priest blessed me with love, while tears in his eyes
I am not a Christian, but still I love Jesus
For all the kindness and love he gave to humanity
And pain and sufferings He faced for us
I still keep those two most beautiful poetry books
Like a precious treasure
And can never forget those lovely moments of sketching Jesus Christ.
Ravindra
Kanpur 29th Nov. 2009
Entered for Raul Moreno’s contest "The Deposition"
Note 1: This poem is based on my own true happenings. I am still
Keeping those poetry books published and printed in US around
1960’s and purchased by me second hand from a Magazine shop
Around 1965 as my most valuable treasure. But since a long
I am have not made any Paintings.
Note 2: Incidentally I have traced that Portrait now shining in the
care of my senior friend Mr. J F Patteson & brilliantly
preserved by him till now.
PoetrySoup …
I Was Heartily Welcomed… As I Sat At Your Table
By: Carol, Sara, Carolyn, Dane Anne, Moses, and Abel
Tim, Leon, John, Michael, Jim and Yoni
Deborah, Krista, Adeleke and Charlie
… James, The (Two) Ruben(s) and (The Quik-Composer) Raul
… and Many, Many More, I Love to Hear At Dinner-Call !
The PoetrySoup …
… It Has Member – Mushrooms
Chew and Chat Lunchrooms
Delectable Hors d'oeuvre
Every Ear-Full… Heard
Every Mouthful… Taste
Spoonful of Gourmet Grace
Voila’ Words, Don’t Waste
Simmer-Slow and Baste’
In Dug-up, Sweet Potatoes
Ripe Food for Thought Tomatoes
And Onions, That Will Make You Cry
Artichokes and Lemons that Squeeze – ‘til You Die
Garlic and Oregano Are Just Some Suggestions
And Here’s Some Mint… for Your Digestion
Parsley to Parley and Jive-Chives, Just Keep Stirring
But There’s No Clam Chowder, Shrimp, or Herring
A Dash of This… A Dash of That Seasoning
A Pinch of That and Sprinkle This Reasoning…
On The Side with the Mustard and Relish, so Fresh
Are the Cucumber-Contest and Radish Requests
And I Can’t Forgo the Tongue-in-Cheek Puns…
Your Laughter is Passed Around, like Hot-Buttered Buns !
… Poets … Are Proverbial Peas In The Pod
The Harvesters of Herbs-Heard, in The Garden of God
so... Salt and Pepper to Your Superb Style
Did You Say Cheese, Please ?... ( Full Mouth Smile !)
There’s Hot Chicken Broth, When You Are Cold
Everybody Knows… Its Good For The Soul
And All That’s On The Human Menu… It’s In There !
… Even A Mother’s … Tenderized Care
Like Campbell’s Brand… Its Umm… Umm… Good !
The Aspire – Asparagus, I Took… I Understood
So, PoetrySoup’s Cupboard is Never Bare
And There Ain’t No Bones, No Medium, Just Rare
And On The Star-Burner… Is The Savory Meat
So… Grab A Heartbeat-Bowl… and Bona Petit’…
Yes, Thank You, PoetrySoup
(You’re Up There with MoonBee’s FruitLoops !)
It Has Been A Pleasure Getting To Know You All
Thru Your Beautiful Expressions, Coming Straight
From Your Warm and Welcoming Hearts
God Bless You......
MoonBee
Father, I know we talk a great deal directly,
most of the time, though you send my Guardian
Angel Raul' to speak with me others. Even though
you can still hear our conversations, after all
you see all and hear all. This time however, I
really could use a one on one.
Because I have a special prayer for you.
Father, In Your Mercy: Hear My prayer
First I pray for the souls of the victims of 9/11.
Those who were in the Twin Towers, the Pentagon,
as well as those who had shown uncommon valor
aboard flight 93 who knew they were about to die.
Father, In Your Mercy: Hear my prayer
For the first responders, the Firemen and women,
Police Officers, Transit Police, Citizens and all other
first responders who ran to not away from disaster,
who sacrificed themselves to save others.
Father, In Your Mercy: Hear My Prayer
For our then President, who at the time of tragedy
was with children, reading, whom in the hours directly
after and for weeks was forced to make decisions that
only You should have to make. For the Mayor of New York
at that time, who soothed a City that witnessed one of
this Country's worst tragedies. Like the first responders
he ran toward disaster, not from it.
Father, In Your Mercy: Hear My prayer
For the Families, left behind, for the Husbands and
Wives who lost Spouses, for the Children who lost
Parents, Parents who lost Children, for all who lost
loved ones that day. Most especially Father, for the
Newborn who will never know the Love of their Parent lost.
Father, In Your Mercy: Hear My Prayer
For this Great Nation, who it's people after a decade,
still mourn it's loss. It has touched us all.
Father, In your Mercy: Hear My Prayer
Father, one last thing, I Pray for tolerance and understanding
for all the peoples of Your Earth,so that one day, we may finally
Live in Peace.
Father, In Your Mercy: Hear My Prayer
For all those who died and those who live with the memories of 9/11/2001
Copyright 2011 Rd. Pickett
Have you ever heard of Raul?
“yea he’s cool, he’s straight. Goofy’
Have you ever heard of me, I'm Raulito.
You always seem me. Not Raulito.
“don’t front, be you do what you do”
Why? Are you worth it, why should you see me.
He’s’ shallow, conceited, and horny.
If that’s what you say then I tell you that you don’t know me.
He’s the guy whose loud, outgoing, & wont shut up.
But even you, you don not know me.
He’s the guy whose nice, smart, a wholesome,
But even you. You do not know me.
You see, talk, & even touch me,
You do not know me.
You may kiss, feel, or even raise me,
You do not know me.
I am red sea deep.
And have more goals than Beckhamm.
I have secrets to keep,
& ideas to dream.
I am not what you all see,
But I am not ashamed of me .
I’m the guy that always asks why?
Where, when or how,
If you don’t believe that then just ask around.
I’m the guy that confronts the facts on a daily basis.
And to you my questions are stupid and pointless.
But to you. To you.
So I may come off as stupid and slow,
But I assure you that I have more brains than you’ll ever know.
So don’t judge me,
don’t, look, talk, see, or even hear of me and judge me.
Why? Why all of this envy
Towards me. Why me. I have nothing.
Get off me!
You don’t know….me!
I’m full of pain, anger, guilt, and sorrow,
that’s nothing to envy. If you want that take it I don’t want it.
You don’t want it.
So no act, or play is put up when my alarm wakes me up.
It is just that some skeletons,
Aren’t biodegradable,
They just wont melt away,
I can’t just walk and start all over,
I cant just run away.
So don’t judge me. Not me.
And don’t envy . Trust me.
For I am red sea deep.
and ever high as Everest.
I am the asymptote which you will try to reach and never succeed.
no one will ever catch me.
For I am red see deep
And will always be just out of your reach.
(I'm really sorry if I left your name off, but I tried to do
all the premium members I could imagine plus the
non-premiums with whom I regularly communicate.
If you are not here, I'm just not seeing you around!)
Adeleke and Amy, Andrew, Audrey, Barbara, Brian, Carol, Caroline, Carolyn,
Carrie,
Caryl, Catie, Cecil, Celene, Charles, Connie, Constance, Chris, Dane Ann,
Daniel, Danielle, Daver, David, Deb, Diamond, Doris, Dr. Ram, Highlander,
Elaine, Emily, Faleshia, Farah, Francine, Frank, Gareth, Gerard, Gert, Grace, Joyce,
H.G. Iolanda, Irma, James, Janette, Jared, Jerri, Jessica, Jimmy, Joe, John, john, Joseph,
Karen, Karla, Katherine, Kimberly, Kristen, Larry, Laura, Linda, Lynette, Mac, Margaret,
Marie, Matthew, Max, Michael, Mitch, Moonbee, Nathan, Nick, Nikko, Paula,
P.D., Phyllis, Ralph, Raul, Ravindra, Rhoda, Robb, Robert, Rueben, Samir, Sara
Sean, Sheol, Sharon, Stephanie, Tavarus, Tim, Tirzah, Travis, Virginia, and Wilma
are poets looking great
forward and
- backward -
and forward
great looking poets are
Wilma and Virginia, Travis, Tirzah, Tim, Tavarus, Stephanie, Sharon, Sheol, Sean,
Sara, Samir, Rueben, Robert, Robb, Rhoda, Ravindra, Raul, Ralph, Phyllis, P.D,
Paula, Nikko, Nick, Nathan, Moonbee, Mitch, Michael, Max, Matthew, Marie,
Margaret, Mac, Llynette, Linda, Laura, larry, Kristen, Kimberly, Katherine, Karla, Karen,
Joseph, john, John, Joe, Jimmy, Jessica, Jerri, Jared, Janette, James, Irma, Iolanda, H.G,
Joyce, Grace, Gert, Gerard, Gareth, Frank, Francine, Farah, Faleshia, Emily, Elaine,
Highlander, Dr. Ram, Doris, Diamond, Deb, David, Daver, Danielle, Daniel,
Dane Ann, Chris, Constance, Connie, Charles, Celene, Cecil, Catie, Caryl,
Carrie, Carolyn, Caroline, Carol, Brian, Barbara, Audrey, Andrew, Amy and
Adeleke
For The Palindrome Contest: Sponsored by Jared Pickett
We are more than we are…
In this pot of soup with Sharon Weimer
And a blessed berry by Karen O’Leary
Not forgetting magical mails of Vince jr. Suzadail
And the blissful barn of Michael Jordan
-A pot of soup filled with blessed berries
sent through magical mails to a blissful barn
where we all live to laugh, love and learn.
…lovely, lively: We are one,
Brian strand is a blessing to this beautiful band
and Carol Brown wears the colorful crown;
Carie Richards’ got collection of creative cards
while Kristin Reynolds’ got the noble nods
-This beautiful band wears the colourful crown,
we’ve got the creative cards that gets noble nods
We are more than we are…
In this lovely lodge with Elaine George’s
passions and the pleasant pecks of john heck;
the modest mart of Michael Degenhardt,
not forgetting the rich roses of Christie Moses
-In this lovely lodge where we share pleasant pecks,
we’ve got a modest mart filled with rich roses.
…United, ignited; we are one:
Christopher Higgins’ got the superb spins
while Joseph Spence paints with passionate pens;
Carolyn Devonshire’s got charming cheers;
And Raul Moreno gives us golden glow
-We’ve got superb spins by our passionate pens
Leaving us with charming cheers and golden glows
We are more than we are…
In this mansion lives a modern mason: Sue Mason
And an undaunted umbrella: Catherine Stella.
A colorful candy cruises with Christy Hardy
And we’ve got a glorious gear: Marycile Beer
-A modern mason holding an undaunted umbrella
And our colorful candy cruises on a glorious gear.
… With voices and virtues we’re born,
Courteous, colorful, full of fun,
Faultless, fearless… we will fear no gun
Simple soupers, super soupers… we are one
Waking up, in a light gray four poster bed.
With flowers and ribbons, painted
on the ceiling above my head.
.
Satin slippers and a robe, so soft.
A young girl, I feel when I do recall......
Those decades ago, those tender memories
that are never lost!
.
The walk down the soft, rose-colored,
carpeted stairs,
I honestly felt as a princess belonging to a
great monarchy somewhere.
Each time I glided down those circular stairs,
so rare!
.
I ate in the breakfast nook, on the most elegant
ivory wood table, I ever saw.
With a maple hutch with priceless nic nacs
and family photographs.
.
The milk was delivered to the back door.
In glass! No wax, faux de raul.
The tablecloth was always clean.
And heavenly pressed. Mom had fresh
flowers on it, or seasonal decor.
Outside, the grass was soft like God's
carpet, so green,so summer fresh!
I loved my bare feet, running through it.
An gigantic umbrella, was there in a table
of course.
Bright golden yellow outside, inside of it a
veritable bevy of flowers.
That table so outstandingly white~
It so reflected the innocence of my very
blessed days and full starlit nights.
I did my homework in the dining room
on a polished mahogany dining room table.
Above me a sparkling crystal chandelier.
Below me, i rested on dark, thick,green
velvet cushions.
Yes, life was more than good to me.
To recall these young girlish days
with you, ah!
I do so quite happily, through a
poetic lens of time.
With you, my beloved, new poetry
family.
January 21, 2020
6:30am PST
Special acknowledgement to Robert Lindley, who
had the kindness to inform me by Soupmail of
typo errors, I had missed! Gratefully, PR xx
NOTE: I don't find the time, neither do I have much inclination, to write a great deal these
days. However, the occasional new piece gets composed, and this is one. I would like to take
this opportunity to thank everyone - Ruben, Raul, Andrew, Elaine, Patricia, Carol, Adeleke,
Krista, Trudi, Kristin, Bill, Shishir, Sami, James, Trudi and many, many others - who have
been so kind, supportive and appreciative both now and in the past. You are stars. I am in
your debt.
I know it's not the happiest piece, but it's what I have at the moment.
T.
Last Chance Saloon:
The deadbeat shuffle from Boardwalk to Boot Hill
Implores the synapse circuit of a short walk to the kill,
With one foot out of line one soon is gone
In Winter rains that fell all Summer long;
Never once did Zeus advise to pack a bag,
Only suck it up and tread the old main drag.
When first she shed her morals and her dress,
The channel burn adored her more than less,
Post-coital walks, romancing in the sun
Beat a path to living in the shadow of the gun;
As expectation always lets one down,
Rends the heart in two by softly skipping town.
From the stained-glass of an alcoholic haze
Wherein kaleidoscopic migraines snap and blaze,
The rusty barrelled gun scrapes at the head,
All the chambers full of coals and glowing red;
She resurfaces like some immortal doll,
And each bullet tastes of paracetamol.
So to raise the weary glass to mouth again,
To curse and toast her godforsaken name,
To down the medicine and down some more
And ride the bona-fide revolving bat-swing door;
Swear by saints alive to never leave this room,
No more chances left to chance in this last chance saloon.
---------------------------------! ! ! ! ! 1
! ! ! !
! ! ! !
! BARBARA ! ! BARBARA !
! LENORE ! ! SHARON !
! “ MOMMY” CAROL !
! JILL CAROLYN !
RHODA KAREN !
! CHARMA LINDA-MARIE !
LYNETTE
! MICHEAL !
! RUBEN !
! RAUL !
! ALL !
! POETS !
! !
! !
! !
!
HAPPY VALINTINE”S Day TO MY SOUP FAMILY
Now where does this Highlander start
To thank those commenter's, present and past
So many read and absorbed
Their kindness to me always lasts
Dr.Ram and Carol Brown
My African Queen 'Miss Wilma Neel's
Michael from New York City
Whose comments I internally feel
There's Andrea, the Utah babe
And Carolyn, from Florida State
Their writing I so enjoy
For their words reverberate
John Loving is such a wonderful guy
There's Sara and Doris too
Deb Radke and Sharon Ruebel our newbies
Made welcome to our literal zoo
P.D. Skat and Constance
Barbara, Iolanda and June
Francine from lovely Nanaimo
Many thanks to all of you
To Ruben, Celene and Raul
Your past writes have helped me grow
Along with so many others
You have helped my words to flow
Blimey! I better not miss out the Brits
Sarah, Brian, Sharon and June
And Anna Marie, away down in Wales
I have read in my front room
Many dudes I also have to thank
Harry Horsman the Geordie boy
The two Roberts, Dufresne and Hinshaw
Whose writings bring so much joy
There's also the bard called Peranteau
Billy the Kidster, Cecil as well
HG, Catie Lindsey and James Goff
Who marshalls his words real swell
And lastly there's the thousands of others
This character has ran out of space
Keep the ink in you pen gently flowing
Your names to me is your face
Golly! this is turning into a story
And many told by the above writing troops
As I marvel at your writing ingredients
Keep writing for this wonderful Soup
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