Long Repine Poems
Long Repine Poems. Below are the most popular long Repine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Repine poems by poem length and keyword.
Son of Trembling
The Sun will stop to shine
Where trapped they do recline
Where they drink and dine
Yet, search, pine and repine.
Would Humane inside him stir
To forsake malicious flair
Has he conscience ever known
To He has he ever knelt down?
Where’s his mind or his heart?
Does he have the thinking part
To heed voice of he who cry
Or pain of victims who fly??
Has he known peace or sate
From when War was his mate?
To see another in pangs of strife
Does it grant mirth to his life??
Barking Gun; ditty to his ear
Ammo. a burden worthy to bear.
Petals Of (red) Blood, his flower
For, those who cringe or cower.
Monster trembling with rage
With a trigger-crazy entourage.
He may kill, blood may spill
One day he’ll pay the Bill!
Stop, think- Trembler go Home
Prodigal Son, you’ll be welcome.
Hand of Friendship not treason
Shake while still in season....
You deserve Peace and Love,
Forgiveness from He Above
They deserve Peace and Mirth,
They don’t deserve Dearth.
Return to senses and to the fold
Get out of the Dark and the cold
Get out of the gruesome Grove
Get into the Light of Peace!
You need Him; He needs you
Divided you fall, it’s quite true.
Let mad aggression cease
Before both of you decrease!
There’s no winner with a Sabre
Or Victor with face of a cadaver
Winner of all averts an Affray
Suppressing ire on a Bad Day!
Country has trees yielding table
Sit, talk live or via the cable.
Carpenters exist to curve a chair
Sit, talk, Rebel would you dare!
• We are Poets, not Politicians. However, bear with me, oh dear Scribes, to condemn mournful events unfolding from my maternal homeland of Mozambique!
• I write with a heavy heart, despite an extended hand to dialogue in the face of the sword of Damocles menacingly hanging. Hostility and intransigence is being allowed to carry the day.
• Would I, Prometheus, (be) Unbound!
JM
06th Nov’ 2013
GENERATIONS OF FAITH
I love to see a child’s faith and hear him as he prays;
It’s such a blessing to be still and hear all that he says.
I shed a tear as there he stands to quote a poem or verse
That he has spent so many hours to practice and rehearse.
I thrill to see the teenager who stands up straight and tall
And says, “I’m going to serve the Lord and give to Him my all!”
I’m proud and glad as one goes on to college or career
Determined that he’ll live for God without a doubt or fear.
It blesses me to see a man take for himself a bride
And says by faith he’ll stay with her and keep her at his side.
The faith of proud new parents as you bring your baby there
To dedicate him to the Lord with a determined prayer
Has always made me shed a tear as I with them will pray
That God will help them raise that child in holy, righteous ways.
But the one faith I honor most is that of those whose hair
Is touched by frost of aging years and still trust in God’s care.
For in your faith I realize most that through each passing year
From infancy to teenage days to wedding time so dear,
From parenthood and family, to years of fast decline
you’ve seen the hand of God in all and never did repine.
So as I’ve watched you, precious friends, your faith has said to me
That God is ever true and good, however old we be.
I know I’m growing fast as well, and as years quickly flee
It is so hard to realize that soon your age I’ll see.
But I’ve tried to watch the faith that spans each generation’s time,
And I’ve tried from each to glean enough to make it part of mine.
And I just felt you’d like to know that your faith’s had a part
Among the faith of other folks who’ve been close to my heart.
May you continue in that faith that I’ve admired and seen
For others, too, are watching you, from you your faith to glean.
Far away from the discomfort under my skin
My soul rejoices
Recoiling at sorrows that like a pointed pin
Pricks my choices
Stealing my freedom
Drinking my peace of mind
Shoving me yonder the kingdom
Where once I lived unkind and blind
Pinned down into a sea
Of sorrow where swimming I couldn’t
And glee
Mine wouldn’t
On me smile for a while in a mile
As for company me sorrow sought
With green-eyed bile and gangrenous guile
Lumbered while I thought
Sorrow for company no bad idea
If only the chalice could free me from the dread I felt
Lydia
Couldn’t melt in gild letter spelt
In terms I felt separated me from the hollow bread
My teeth no longer could chew
As the blight, sight and plight of dread
Grew and threw
Into reverse the order
In my life I strove to build
As I considered broader
Brushstrokes sorrows could never yield
Unless I woke up
On my groggy knees stood for good
Throwing away the poisoned cup
Whose stern hood and mood
I rejected
Wishing for company sorrow I never sought
Thwarted and dejected
I got caught
Up into an insipid, colourless, tedious existence
Whose yoke and talk
My soul strove by dint of perseverance and persistence
Away to stalk and soak
Into dustbins of history
Where sorrow fragments
Of a broken life story
Lay entwined with ligaments and arguments
I no longer wanted for mine
As my benighted eyes snapped awake
No longer would I repine or whinge and whine
Because at long last I found my better life’s cake with neither further ado nor glaring mistake.
Laying brick by brick, with stickum in between.
A stone on top of another: dream quest and scene,
erected diligently, with a blueprint at the ready.
Each dot and line progression is sure and steady.
Despite storms, hurdles, and limited funding
With slow but steady aims, slanted rashly cunning,
with optimism, sharing in God's dream design.
Adversity shapes us to strive rather than repine.
God's will is a bunker, so every lesson is a brick
His word is final, and the walls of the friary are thick
Our foundation is the cornerstone of our existence
Lord God, the ruler of men, smooths the essence.
I savor being amazed; trust my full autonomy.
A heart full of hope gives way to honesty.
It's optimistic, soul-strengthening, and simple.
We stir up lies, and our ignorance is sinful.
Our love shrinks our hatred with each pulse.
It's tough to stay aside; must veins convulse?
I'm not sure what they'll do if we meet to shine.
Our passion for each other will be closer to fine.
Written: February 16, 2023
Closer To Fine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Winds rush thru the whispering pines,
To play with mantle of green;
And gossamer thread of a spider's web,
Hangs in sunlight's sheen.
Laurel leaves that crown the head,
Frame face with drops of dew;
And misty eyes with whispered sighs,
Shield lids that hide the blue.
Where maidens walk on winding path,
And elfin spirits repine;
There daisies lay and bluebirds play,
Beneath the tangled vine.
When shepherd boy pipes tunes of joy,
In meadows dipped in gold;
Music plays to sing a phrase,
To lambs that rest in the fold.
To tread upon the mountain peak,
At sunlight's fleeting noon;
And trace the sight of an eagle's flight,
As she soars o'er silver dune.
When blossoms play and sunbeams stay,
With daylight’s soft caress;
While juncos feed on honey mead,
In summer’s vibrant dress.
Where pyramids of chestnut blooms,
Fly high in yonder skies;
And clematis pine on leafy vine,
To tempt the bird that flies.
When daylight dies and twilight comes,
And nature finds her rest;
While flowers sleep and moonbeams keep,
Midnight’s timeless quest.
Sweet Rosalia was here with me
but for a year and a day
when we strolled the cliff beside the sea
to see the oceans spray
Sweet bairn of mine did laugh and clap
to see a butterfly
she reached her hand when broke the strap
fell from the cliff to die
Poor child of mine made not a peep
when fell unto the rocks
I pulled her from the watery deep
my bairn with sable locks
Such deep lament pooled off my face
she cradled in my arms
the tumble left none of a trace
the blow that did her harm
I could not bare to cover her
in mother natures brown
nor place on her the white death fleur
in cold and darkened ground
So Rosalia I did place
inside a glass top bed
forever more you'll see her face
whilst sadly she lay dead
I could not bear such deep repine
my heart could not erase
when saw the child did break my mind
wrapped in inky Seas embrace
My Deep lament would not erase
visions of my darling drowned
So I stepped unto the cold cliff face
And flung my body down
Come my sweet to silken thread,
finest twines I spin for thee.
Come to soft eternal bed,
yield unto my beck’ning plea.
Finest twines I spin for thee,
comfort grant in final hour.
Yield unto my beck’ning plea,
hunger doth my soul devour.
Comfort grant in final hour,
clothe thee in my flossy shroud.
Hunger doth my soul devour,
quick I’ll be, if I’m allowed.
Clothe thee in my flossy shroud,
tremble not beloved prey.
Quick I’ll be, if I’m allowed,
Why, my lust, must thou delay?
Tremble not beloved prey,
now I take what’s fairly mine.
Why, my lust, must thou delay?
Quiet love, without repine.
Now I take what’s fairly mine,
this is my eternal bed.
Quiet love, without repine,
spin again my silken thread.
~~~~~~
(for the Pantoum contest)
* I took some liberty with the form- in the last stanza I modified the 2nd and 4th lines from
the original ones in the first stanza- just gotta be me... *
In our father's house, you were doing fine,
but you did not want to toe the line.
Father, you said, 'give me what is mine.'
Leaving home sent a jolt of joy up your spine.
No more scenes of servants grazing kine,
or picking grapes off the vine.
Feasting on choice cuts with the chine,
sporting with women, and drinking wine,
living in a ritzy ranch on the banks of the Rhine.
You have many friends who love to dine,
but you are too naive to know that is a bad sign.
Poof-poverty pounces and pierces like a tine,
now broke, homeless, hungry, you start to pine.
To earn money, you take a job feeding swine.
At nights you lie on the streetside and whine,
thinking of the servants and how well they dine.
It is okay, you ragamuffin to regret and repine.
Get up my brother and toward home your feet incline.
The sight of you will make our father’s face shine.
UNTIL AM GONE
Until am gone before thy
knowth my value
How lonely life will
be without me
Dos't thou really created creature
To credence in immortality??
Verily belief,Belief verily
My days are numbered on earth
Until am gone thinks't me not!
For life is a misery
Repine not my bossom friend
Verily destiny shall prevail!!!
Recall our good times
and live live on
Until am gone,Miss me not!
For life is going through time
Miss me no thee enemy
For thou showeth me love
even with wickedness
"Death be not proud
Though some called thee mighty
Though some called thee dreadful
For thou art not so"
"For whom thou think'st
thou dos overthrown
Die not poore,Nor yet
canst thou kill me?"
The grave's a fine private place
But none,I think,Do there embrace
© Adedamola Quadri Adeniyi
All Right Reserved 2016.
Caught in a Cats-hat
You obviously admire the bestiality of a canine,
Hence , you probably find me rather asinine
And the confident swagger of a *****-cat
Is grossly superior to the airs of this pretensive plutocrat.
So you will , alas, never be my concubine,
Due to my propensity for the libertine,
(not to mention the table wine)
I do not have the means of an autocrat
And have only the sensibilities of a pornocrat.
Your disposition to adore the canine and the feline
Makes me feel like a philandering Philistine.
I will always be such a yellow-dog democrat
That I quite threaten to knock off your high hat.
And now for the denouement, my valentine,
For your humble blessings I repine
For the company of furry, felinous, feral Sumi-cat
I do so miss inhabiting her habitat.
g Tiberius