Long Reawaken Poems
Long Reawaken Poems. Below are the most popular long Reawaken by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reawaken poems by poem length and keyword.
To be the master of my own destiny. Ruler of my future
To walk on my own hopes to nurture
Thoughts of hopes and peace of mind
Thinking of joys that I might find
A chance to be at ease
Not just a tease
But to stand with pride
No reason to hide
From the people around
Cry without a sound
I wish upon a star
It isn't so far
That I lose sight
Get lost in the darkest night
Using hope as a light
Peering into the edge of tomorrow
No longer lost to sorrow
But lefting my head up high
I would like to fly
If but for a day
To know the right thing to say
To take away what's wrong
Been so very long
Need someone to believe
Give me some relief
Free from choices I make
Chances I take
To have sight
Live in the light
Rest from this fight
Let me see
What's to be
Face life on my own two feet
Myself I must meet
No retreat
Let me know
Help me show
My way back to light
Out from the night
Peace of mind
Is all I want to find
Set me free
So I can be
Free my head
Free me from dread
To make life grand
To understand
What I must do
To myself be true
Yet my life I must start
Reawaken my heart
To have a chance
I must take a stance
Control the negative feed
Hope is what I need
to be freed
There’s beauty in the midnight feathers of a black swan so divine,
as euphoria illuminates s t a i n e d sanctuaries~
where stars long to drown in your still train of thoughts,
for there’s a p o e m ruffling through lakes of ancient runes,
too d a r k for the blind who refuse to see beyond color,
amidst the swirl of sorcery… emanating magical wavelets of strength,
to stand out in a world of dwelling dullness..
Remember, life goes on, with or without
the veil of validation..
You’re more than a silhouette on a blank page….
I see through those scratched windows
of your sunless eyes,
where manipulative monsters
make a foolish king out of your soul,
whilst morals of yesterday’s
drown in poisoned puddles
of contaminated cruelty.
Yet we still hope celestial roots of eden
would sprout through barren grains of time,
as hostile hands weave paper petunias,
to color them in shades of shallow shadows,
which glimmer amongst salmon skies,
enveloped in airy blue lace.
Perhaps, a touch of an empath may
reawaken the light of life that has been
dimmed within the fogs
of your narcissistic ego.
Or maybe there will never be a release
nor a remedy to relieve your
lethal fangs clutching my breathless lungs,
constantly feeding me infected fruits on the
furnace of malevolent magnanimity.
But, I’m no longer the naive target that
falls victim to every shimmering knife you throw,
aiming to blind me with your crystal color coated trickeries.
So take all your weapons wielded
of manipulative mantras~
forged from the hells of insecurities.
I am not the mistress meant only to move
in motions of your designed gravity.
I am earth and fire,
more than skeleton and scent.
I am stronger than every storm I’ve sailed through,
when sinister seas screamed in angst.
One day you’ll realize my kindness
was never a weak vessel to be misused~
whenever your greediness finds the need to
steal wings for your own malicious delight.
I hang on the small
umbrella, but I fail;
a whirlwind snatches it away,
it's more violent than a hungry eagle
swooping down to catch its prey...
all is in shambles, it scares the beagle
that finds shelter in a hallway
of a decayed building nearby:
he is afraid and shakes terribly!
Melancholy was felt when misty rain
made the maples cry as wailing mothers
do for the loss of their infant child;
no eyes looked drearier, their faces
were marked by a pain hard to explain...
they were finally consoled by God
who ordered rainy clouds to unwind,
giving them the comfort they needed.
Moms take care of their kids, doing all they can
and they sacrifice much, they don't buy a dress
to fill their needs; such angels deserve admiration,
walk with them: they've walked with you always!
The melancholy of this misty rain
can never erase anything too precious to us;
all remains intact in our subconsciousness:
sorrows and joys they reawaken! we reawaken
Wings cut, flesh torn, eyes burned and blind
Heart so weary borne upon a life, some say, unkind.
Time will come and go, knowledge gained or lost;
Rivers change their flow; summers die in frost
All that’s proud and full of fury in each person’s story
Sunk beneath the fathoms of depressions veil.
We humans sought to reawaken, but did fail.
I will write a word or two about a pear that clings
Frosty morning air anew, as summer wanes.
When autumn sings I shall turn the other cheek,
Jot some mental notes and such then turn to sneak a peek,
Were it not for noise, I would not glance back
Nor halt to hear the frantic fray; to enter then this play.
Character cast, twice remove; something by each side to prove.
Lyrically lay with lantern lit, composing each and all of it
In metaphoric style; lost of wit, but never wile;
I fracture to repeat, upturned sockets sweet.
Sumptuous undertaking of loved and all beloved;
Splendor in the Eye for taking all whom I may meet.
Hoping to move and by them all be moved.
No trouble here, noble poets burning.
Turn back to the fires you're tending.
And all that you’re unlearning.
Pass up the gauntlet to those returning
No more yearning; no more ending.
Satisfied to write the wilting flowers praise;
Documenting endlessly, natures endless days.
Casual observer thus inclined
To take up simple pen - of simple mind;
Talk of flowers and butterflies flying
Then maybe the flutter of wings
Will drown the sound of dying
Each voice sings..
What is this?
A dull, yet aching feeling
Returning—so familiar
Why has it returned this night?
Is it here to stay?
Or will it simply go away,
And return full force upon my mind and soul?
This is the reality of it all,
This feeling is there because you allowed it there
It has returned as an all-too familiar foe,
Because the fact is no one cares
And yes, it is here to stay
It will never go away
It will just sleep and reawaken
Am I nothing to you?
What kind of fool am I to believe you care?
I mustn’t mean a thing
My lines you petulantly ignore
Trusting another will acknowledge for more
I want no one but you,
Is that selfish?
Is that sad?
You mean little to me,
I do not know why you think such a thing,
You mean little to nothing in my life
I have shown you countless times through my silence
And I know the others will fulfill your needs
You don’t need me
You are selfish
And you are pathetic
Can you be anymore blatant?
I’d crush you with my heart if it wasn’t already broken
Have you not tasted the flood of tears?
Will you answer me at least,
Or shall you leave me in my fears?
Do you truly wish to ignore?
The one that respects you to the core?
The one that admires your every being?
The one that sees what others are not seeing?
You cannot judge me, for you know nothing of me
You can’t crush me—only brush against me
I make it a point to close my mouth when they come
I’ve answered you enough within your conscience
And now I leave you for good
I acknowledge, I read—but nothing shall you feed
I wish now to continue my life
Without need of your dissonant light
You know me not and yet you say
You care about me—you’re blind
I’m stuck in this fantasy…
Why do I hide these feelings with despair?
Can I live with myself?
Give me your opinion—or give me a fact
Will this horror never go away?
Will it leave today?
What if I grasp the last beacon of hope?
This is the reality of it all,
This feeling is there because you allowed it there
It has returned as an all-too familiar foe,
Because the fact is no one cares
And yes, it is here to stay
It will never go away
It will just sleep and reawaken
He’s been on the lawn
Every year…for 40 years
A four foot tall plastic
Glowing, snowman
I sat with him yesterday
As he looked a bit down.
Asked “what’s up old friend?”
He sighed, slowly spoke
Asking “where are all my friends?”
“There are no angels across the street
No bells chiming down the way
I haven’t heard one Christmas carol
Or seen one silly Christmas sweater”
I hesitated to tell him
The Grinch had actually
Stolen Christmas
Or at least held its joy hostage.
He flinched when I told him
“some even take offense at you”
Because of what you symbolize,
What you stir in the hearts of children
Reawaken in the hearts of alleged adults.
My neighbors are trying to figure out
Why I was sitting on the lawn
Singing Frosty the Snowman
Loudly and somewhat off key
Our destination belongs to Jesus
There is a creed in the Kingdom of God and
Faith is the Action which is ownership before you have it!
Stretch your avenue
You have the title deed because you understand
The creed of the Kingdom of God
Through the road of life
When we all think alike, then no one is really thinking!
The road of faith paves a new path as
We bath ourselves in the performance of fiery faith!
A reflection in time reminds us of
Our capacity to deal with old problems in new ways
And to recall old ways to handle new problems if there is a need!
Indeed, the hidden potential found in every individual
Can reawaken the flexibility of innovation
Fiery faith is something we must embrace
Faith in Jesus is a road to embrace your purose!
In Him we trust as we hold on to His Word!
There is a creed in the Kingdom of God and
Faith is the Action which is ownership before you have it!
Stretch your avenue
You have the title deed because you understand
The creed of the Kingdom of God
Faith over fear
Our destination belongs to Jesus
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
Alcohol’s a drug that deludes the brain,
especially in vulnerable youth.
For it numbs hurts and emotional pain,
trading reality for a false truth.
Beer is the gateway to misery's domain,
replacing self-hate with synthesized love.
And if you're addicted and can't abstain,
confide in your friends or the Lord above.
Liquor fuels anguish, distilled from tears,
and yet, you'll pay its toll despite the price.
And when you reawaken sleeping fears,
occasional use morphs into a vice.
Many are blind to the pitfalls of drink,
unaware, they're teetering on the brink.
(Sonnet)
3/4/2017
When the Goddess of aroma
graces my caffeinated soul,
her milky quartz crown
shines in shades
of ineffable pleasures.
Invigorating arabica stars within
my senses to rise
like steamy silhouettes~
laced in seraphic
aura of lotus chastity….
If coffee personifies
the electrifying taste
of my longing soul,
will fruity scents stir,
to evoke hidden
metaphors within this
mocha heart?
I’ll sketch
decaffeinated skies
with roasted beans
of brunette bliss.
Let colors of the
golden sun splatter
harmonious hues
of cosmic sanctity.
I’ll embrace the
aromatic elixir of life,
brewed with
floral hints of faith~
allowing unfiltered
essence of
meaningless mornings,
to reawaken an undying
thirst to illuminate
fading stardust.
Quenching serenity
from granulated values,
that depict
karmic kismet
across divine rivers
flowing with
spiritual awakening.
Perhaps, with every
sip of espresso,
we indulge a scoop of
cocoa gratitude,
expressing the
inner purity,
while happiness pours
into a crystal clear cup
of constant clarity.
There the light
of cinnamon
oozes amidst the
cleansed canvas of life,
to rescript an
ethereal ingredient
that guides us back to
a realm of rosier runes,
where ego has no palette
to rest upon,
for within us dwells
an immortal barista,
concocting healing drips
from caramelized visions.
I’ll hold on to these
unexplored cravings,
while the liberty of
conscience remains~
the first ray of
warmth I inhale.
When daylight befalls like
tints of tuscan tiramisu,
let me find the strength
to lure pale pigments
of weeping wind~
I’ll be the thread
that untangles unsettling
webs wrapped in
bitter breezes,
for the king of solace
and I, will become one;
celestially intertwined,
infused in bronze ink,
as one in a million flavors.
This is for you
Yes I mean you
who craves success
and you with dwindling hope.
Let's ignite the spark tonight
when the sky's blanket is dark
and the stars are yet to be back
Let's bring back the embers
Wherever the night bids us.
Let me reawaken your spirit
to embolden that zeal
to be exhumed
from that dampened mind.
Let me bring forth the rays
you have long hidden within you.
It is never too late to start believing
It is never too late for reawakening
Before the day of reckoning
when words shall be called upon
to re-write what it had learnt.
Believe that where others have failed
you can earn yourself laurels.
(c) 2020 Muyideen Ayinla
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