Long Remnant Poems
Long Remnant Poems. Below are the most popular long Remnant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Remnant poems by poem length and keyword.
avid arm-wrestling against awesome Allie
brave Billy Bouncer balks a bit at Ballet.
cocky courage cancelled, civic concentration.
during Des Moines Diamond demonstration
energetic efforts enthuse eager Eddie
facing fearless frog-legged Freddie
gracious Greta grants gorillas gratuities
harry harpoons happy harpy Helga Hanuities.
ignoring ignorant Insignificant Inglewood Iam.
juggling jockey Jacque justifies Jan’s jelly jam
keeping kangaroo kilos in Kalamazoo
linking luxurious llamas left loving the loo
marvelous Maude mixed montana’s merry moo
nevil’s nearby newts kneaded the nightly news
octagonal Oscar ostrich operates an oily ooze
practical pigeon Pete patrols Perry Parkway Poo
queluz quarrelsome questions quiver and quack
rustic remnant of Ruby respectfully resides on the rack
stellar starlight of steeple stallion stares on in the stack
twisting twosome Twiggmeister ties Terry’s Tennessee tack.
universal understanding utilizes utensils in the USA.
varigated variety of venus villians verifying
wild winsome windsurpers willing werewolf whying
‘xact ‘xperts ‘xplaining ‘xtra ‘xpenses ‘xasperatingly
young youthful yellow yaks yawning youthfully
zealous zealots zinging. zipping and zagging zestfully
My thoughts linger in the bleak expanse that surrounds my disembodied conscious and not even the pulsing epiphanies (a million lifetimes away) can bring light to the horrific darkness embedded in the remnant matter of this repented skeptic.
As the winds once shifted on the golden plains of grains horded for profit and power, so to did the opinions of laypeople and professional swirl around this once complacent arrogant mind too enamored with the process of living to notice the force of life rapidly receding like a cool drink carelessly spilled on a hot surface evaporating before the instinct to lap it up was unleashed.
Now, darkness brings light and clarity to seek out those who are groping in their own brilliance. Descending down on the sea of life hoping to light onto the thoughts of one who will not suppose nature and God are enemies, while science sits adrift in a raft with room for one, watching the worthy vessel with its unworthy passengers rock to and fro unaware of the great fall just ahead. And in the abyss finned creatures too intelligent for their own good helplessly watch because they have no hands to take the helm.
The wings fluttering above are just as useless, and back on shore the other passengers of the original ark wonder why the misguided stewards bothered saving them in the first place.
But if I could find a mind like a fresh flower obedient and open to receive this
pollinating knowledge, it might be enough to propagate the species of thought that will save billions of embodied cognitive factories from the impotent byproducts of denial: procrastination and the convenience of inconvenience.
Even now I observe changes in the political and environmental climate, and hope my
thoughts have not taken too long to drift from my history to your future.
She left the country where she was raised,
To pursue her endeavors, no longer a slave,
She climbed mountains and swam through swamp lakes,
To be relieved from all the past hurts and mistakes,
She tread upon scorpions, demolished serpent skins,
To connect with a fire that burned deep within,
She ran from the flock only to be brought back again,
To teach this new remnant how to boldly fend,
For…
Everything and anything noble and true,
Break down the borders of doubt and ridicule,
All that aspire to conquer what is right,
Sinister smiles that feed on broken appetites,
Graves that are rolling and men who control
Chants in the night intended to steal someone’s soul
Laughter of failure,A spirit in tears
This warrior princess helped many in fear.
She ripped out the thorns that lagged in her side,
To humble her heart and swallow her pride,
She drank of the water that brings bones back from the dead,
To deepen her love and renew what was in her head,
She gave with a smile and listened to their pain,
To heal those in trouble with divinity rain,
She took on a role that others despised,
To enable the weak to look up and arise,
She knew it was time to fight with all her might,
To allow the Holy Spirit to make her destiny right,
She spoke to the masses and sang to the stacks
To a beautiful melody of "I am never going back."
By: sabina Nicole
Written: To All The warriors
Bent on reprisal sword in hand
Gonzalo and friends paddle ahead
To Alcácer Do Sal where Christians
By Moors are held
Concealed by dusk
Disembarking their boat
Toward the city bravely walk
Hiding from view they observe
Moorish girls and men sport around
Dancing on the grass for Bairam fest
Dazzling among companions
Sweet loveliness beyond compare
Charming in lightness and glamour
Captured by her smile Gonzalo
Maddened with love
Rushing into the crowd snatches her, loses her
Snatches her again from the belligerent crowd
Flattered by his valorous effort
Falls in his arms tight the girl enamored
Burning with love they run
Having escaped she converts
Joining body and soul in married joy
Not meant to last
Much too much happiness
For one heart to hold
Princess bids farewell to the world.
A monk now Gonzalo
Her image in heart of his heart
Reflected in the beauty all around
Sweetness of her fragrance in the flowers
Her gaiety in all playful seek and hide
And in the bell ringing prayer
Her name Fatima
Bridge between warring sides.
Fatima by Gonzalo named is where Mary
Preceded by The Angel of Peace,
Chose to appear to three children
Lucia, Francisco and Jacinta
With signs and wonders
And the sun dancing in the sky
Witnessed by thousands
Warning of the abode of the damned
Where souls that nobody prays for
Or sacrifice for end
With a promise of peace and a request
To pray the rosary, convert, make amends
Consecrate Russia and all wars will end
Or nations will vanish from the earth.
When you hear peace sweet deceit
It’s world war three drum beat
Bent by suffering to its knees
A remnant will beg God for peace
The peace that through Mary God will give.
Written By: D. Collins 1/7/26
It doesn't matter how powerful a military is.
When there is nothing left to take or give.
Militaries will perish just like the rest of us.
Only then, will they find they weren't that tough.
There'll be no democracies or political gains.
Only remnant leftovers of the nuclear rain.
When superpowers feel they have nothing to lose.
The launching of all nukes will be the thing to do.
There will be no winners left around to brag.
Just an atmosphere of contaminated gas.
Even hiding in bunkers should be abundantly clear.
That you cannot come out for thousands of years.
A bountiful array presents itself,
From its constant electro-magnetic display.
With a spectrum of rebounding wavelengths,
And a variety of colorful todays.
This multitude of color gives us boundaries,
From the infra-red to ultra-violet.
Providing our perception with stubborn stop
Signs, as viewing beyond does not permit.
Within these limits of our vision, we're
Left with a plentiful bunch to describe.
As they are exposed through a lexicon of
Meanings, by cliche or slang rhetoric to bribe.
So while black and white are constant borders,
We go well beyond those 50 shades of grey.
With thoughts of golden parachutes and
Silver linings, granting hope to us everyday.
When the entire menu is looked upon, we've
Learned that the primary ones create most.
Whereas red and blue get used politically,
Yellow is cowardly and cautious from coast to coast.
Since there's no way to see the complete palette,
To explain all the mixtures nature has seen.
Rest assured that the fusion & various combinations,
Leaves a remnant of beauty and envy that's green.
Silently I slide toward the evening
during the day everyone sees the strong woman
Struggling to hold back tears
Thoughts that buzz, threaten and disturb
The capricious, unprepared pain
sneaking around me on all sides
Spreads its poison, one small drop at a time
as salt in an open wound
My fortress,
prevents anyone from intruding
Don't take away the little remnant of myself
As my the tears ebbed away
I wrote a note in the wind
"I loved you - it wasn't enough
- rest in peace my love"
23.10.22
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
A Note In The Wind Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
3rd place in the contest
Seasons pass away little by little
time moves hour by hour
Within your branches, your hearth of leaves
I wait in patience, moment by moment
years turn decades, nurtured in hope
rolling in your epochs of excitement
murmuring in your sighs of endowment
Yes, at last... the first acorn is born
nestled in your sturdy arms, I hang on
a mighty code etched within my heart
a passionate life packed within my soul
an embedded oak weaves silver dreams.
all compressed, and then I fall...
My shell wailing the hit, hardness of a thud
No shade , no comfort, no more birdsongs
On a ground of dirt laid a bushel of acorns
Scattered hither and thither, broken wreckage
remnant memories of sweet honeybees
hammock swinging close to our boughs
Is this our graveyard?
cries of siblings dissipate in crisp air.
No, please let me live once more.
woodpecker's beak I travel unknown lands
a solitary tree, ..a scampering squirrel
swashed in a lake , strewed amid grass
random winds of luck to a mossy rabbit hole.
Seasons pass away little by little.
time moves hour by hour.
Life sprouts a tiny shoot, a thread like root
I wait in patience, moment by moment
years turn decades, a strong oak stands to tell
an acorn rose and fell,...long story in a nutshell.
23rd April 2020
Sponsor John lawless
Contest Name The Last Acorn
Twilight tinsels
of dwindling day
flush halcyon horizon
with cinnabar satin,
sunset splendor
spins celestial strands
in formless filament
of cadenced clouds,
turning to cosmic violin,
r e v e r b e r a t i n g …
Misty milepost
overtly ordains
penultimate path
at nebulous periphery
of future obscure,
twilight tune
resounds requiem
for forlorn being,
silhouetted still
against sundown skyline
of transient radiance,
discerning destined
in cauldron of time
the final flash
of demolished day,
d i s m a n t l i n g….
Twirling tapestry
of stormy suffering,
interlacing onyx clouds,
smears unwary horizon,
transiently hued once,
marks chameleon shift
of concealed colors
of dormant desires
on convoluted canvas,
lacerates the last corner
of frail fresco
of mystified mind,
c r u m b l i n g….
Deformed shards
of splintered sky
swirl in squally pathos,
roll on dismal waves
of curled bleak clouds,
the remnant patina
of sunflower sanguinity
still sparkles
in fading flashes
of sinking sun,
drowning the montage
of derelict memory,
composes latent melody
of unsung dreams
with fossilized life’s
frail facsimile,
sequestered in spectral sonata
of sunset swansong,
r e s o n a t i n g ….
Why does my soul not conform to the social standards that society and family set before me? As if I was written as a chapter of a different book and thrown amongst the scoffers. Or am I just a remnant of a time now lost, nestled in this body, in a forlorn attempt to find sanctuary? All the whilst, having doctored more unrest.
Will none attest to my goodness? Is value no longer placed upon honesty, purity, selflessness? Or to survive do we have to lay amongst the savages, grapple and take mercilessly until we end up on top? As if success were singular, purpose myopic. Can we not welcome the success of another without being overcome with jealous rage, that sours friendships like forbidden fruit?
Is love now bought, wagered, ransomed, finite, and unconditional love labelled 'love sick'? How do we allow our own country's earth to decay to seek pleasures further afield and not sow the seeds of our own home? False idols captivate our screens, media, conversation when the greatest in this world are those that become the least, that do things without desire for merit, worth or absolution. How do we find comfort in a world where old souls, who value lost morals are deemed outcasts?
God's word is clear, albeit at times difficult.
We must choose to walk the road less travelled. We may appear the wayward wanderer, but our destination is promised, even to the least worthy. So may we as God's people lean on his grace and follow the path of goodness and truth that shall outlast the tests of time.
03.13.22