Long Requesting Poems
Long Requesting Poems. Below are the most popular long Requesting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Requesting poems by poem length and keyword.
I am the unseen titan who stands with a height so vast. I am the bridge, the body, the threshold. In stories tales and film of some dull design. As ones passes leaving behind there shell upon there last touch of comfort opposed to the hands of grief holding on to what must change and evolve as through there perspective of the dead in there most pure and raw form seeing the very ceiling gone as if if never there. Nothing no obstruction no signs of tamper but a wide blue sky in ones raw form climb the invisible ladder, walk the phantom staircase. This escalation to our source, our home is merely a mistake. For I know what's truth for to reach the true gates one must stand upon the shore of beauty where the waves keeping coming back in a sense of requesting your return . walk on the water and progress to the very raw source of our home. For earth is the surface and heaven lies the in the solar system of the North Star the hole breaking through the black wall of space.
Swarmed by choral tunes of early birds,
Her hands mold curves into shape, touched by love
While fluid eyes hum as bands entwine.
Till weeks alight requesting for night’s quiet rest,
Yet mornings lift palms on the same shade
Pinning tiny beads embossed like rows of wreaths
Crocheted strips finally twirl in dainty pattern
The perfect mingling of straws looped in elegance;
Finally, the night before a most special ceremony
When aisles of the church prepare my young walk,
Grandma smiles tearily and hands me...
My first woven flower-girl basket.
'''' '''''''''''''
* I was told that Grandma lost her interest
in weaving when she cut her palms. After 5 years,
she began crafting when she found out I was the only
flower-girl to his son's wedding ( my uncle).
Contest: Kim Morrison's True Story
by nette onclaud
The Paths We Choose
by Edmund Siejka
When I was a young writer
I read all the greats
Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Yeats, James Joyce
And so on
I could write like them I said
So I felt good about myself
And wrote a play
In the heat of August, 1976.
Beating the lines on an old portable typewriter,
Rubber mat placed under its steel frame,
To keep from annoying the neighbors
But the walls in the East Village were thin
And next door guessed
What are you doing writing a novel?
She asked
I kept typing
And the rejections piled up
It was then I realized that I was attempting the near impossible
So I stopped.
Something came over me
I started writing again in 1992
Two unpublished novels
And inevitably
The mailman would trudge up the front steps
Lips pursed in a tight, thin line
Rejections coming in like a winter storm
I poured over each one trying to decipher their true meaning
But it was no use.
I wrote a poem in 2009
To my surprise it was accepted
Followed by an email from the editor
Requesting more of my “stuff”.
Someone recommended that I give a reading
At a local library
Start small they advised.
And so I found myself
In a crowded room of poets and strangers
When my name was finally called
I approached the podium
Determined and focused.
After reading my piece
I searched
The audience for their reaction
Waiting for the other shoe to drop.
There are monks marching to Washington
Enduring; they persevere, their perstience
long'
There actions to me echo.' Back maybe my call..
For a peoples peace day, they will arrive on the twenty eighth of Februrary before the power halls, just over a month and April will arrive..My indication is the second day.'
For requesting worldwide, that people make a call fir peace, fools days myst be put behind us, Jesus grant release, are these minks a sign of a deep desire? A world of longing, kindling this small fire.?
Anyone can mark the day i note send a card recognising peace.' Cast your worthy
Vote, have a psrty..You do not need me.'
Just a heart for change, that some
good may be.'
( invest in peace it cost so little" yet enriches
Us all )
‘can’t change your family but you are free to choose your friends’
Michael’s brother is demented and only remembers the distant past
his parents are long dead they died in a car crash at illegitimate speed
every now and then he visits their graves and leaves a Match Box car
instead of flowers and lights a joint for Peace just to annoy them a bit
illegal traffic is one of the burdens of modern society and transport
luckily for him he fathered three children who don’t know what hit them
when he is diagnosed with cancer but they promise to look after him
a fortunate story of love and the transmission of generational kindness
life’s hardships are relative and sometimes a concept of irrational thought
now it stands him in good stead to have followed a path of emotions
Michael has chosen his own relative friends at free will and he
cherishes them all in equal proportions and knows how to relate
the Liberty to decide when to give and when to receive
undeterred by strict norms and unauthorized obligations
a notion of Justice derived from virtues and a moral law
from within along fairness equity rectitude without fail
Honesty in all his endeavours as much as the very truth
to be spoken when silence and falsification where easier
unmistakeable Charity in the face of a self-righteous world
requesting nothing in return because he is privileged by birth
Communication in deeds and in words without anger or venom
because once acted or spoken it is difficult to retract a position
most of all he is only too well aware that Perspectives are contingent
as well as embedded in context but that he can craft from his own Self
he Reads Writes Feels Reasons and Stakes his claim at times Surrenders
connects what seems to be relative but does not change on his last journey
Michael’s brother does not suffer from the loss of engaging with his relatives
his parents died a pain free death at the crossroad of the reaper’s stark scythe
and his children will tell his story outlook and attitude to relatives and death
he is a blessed man and he keeps a small vial of morphine for when time calls
his compassionate wife who by law is not a relative will help with the plunger
02 November 2020
Pray hearken, Fire, to my life’s fervent urge:
Kindle thine all-consuming power, red hue,
Burn up her mortal dross sans residue,
That she into base elements can merge;
Scorch all her pains that she suffers no more,
All stumbling stones irking like an old wart,
All sufferings failing to heal her heart,
Which may live on and just as was before
That she retains, and ever tender green,
The vestiges of her earnest desire
To love me, her heaving heart’s fragrant fire
For me; and let the rest all burn off clean.
This done let her wake, a fresh life to start,
New flesh and form, and a young feeling heart.
________________________________________
Sonnets | 05.12.08 |
Poet's note: Here is a man in ardent love with his wife who has just died. She has to be cremated so that a new life is created. He is requesting Fire on a burning pyre to scorch off all of her mortal body, all her pains, except her loving heart.
War reprehensible war, with such connotations as I abhor'
Also the agents of its inception; on them be complete rejection'
Those that sow unrest, within the people's breast; bones of contention'
Sedition, false invention. Subversion seeping ; lost leaders no connection.'
The running sore of bribery; the massaging of anxiety division in society
Renewed other buzzwords, mind you.' Or perhaps you've given up?
Feel it's all just too much? As a weight bearing heavy that holds you as such
At night it awakes you, tries to mentally break you; in small inroads too
Each day requesting more dues' asked to live inside out? Helps to help'
Leading to who would Know where? Perhaps it's worth to still care?
Ignore the smiling doomsayers the convinnial conniving ritual makers
The encourages of pot banging, and various noise also hooting clanging
A paganistic bent, driving evil spirits away? In this enlightened age?
I see the dark of night; in this mess; this depressive plight'
It's been a psyops move in muted light, a relentless sicko driven fight
Yet hold the line, defend and rightly, speak out on the fear insighfully.'
My Prayer For Today
Miracle Man
10/15/2024
Before today’s sunrise I awoke feeling blessed,
ready to do bidding with some new day’s test.
In prayer, I ask you, to make me an advancer,
it's me again Lord, seeking from you an answer.
I pray, Lord I’m weak and need your strength,
that I’ll feel your nearness, not at arms length.
That those requesting prayer, I will remember,
both those unknown, and each church member.
Lord, send me to one, whose faith has grown weak,
then give me the words that you’d have me speak.
Increase my faith toward this day’s unknown,
and at my day’s end bless the seed I have sown.
From your given mission I pray I’ve not wavered,
from one who feels blessed, and highly favored.
Amen
So many needs; So many hungry; So many homeless; So many good endeavors; So many requests for help; So many fraud-based endeavors.
But what more can I do? And who do I help, and how? Who do you dismiss, and why? Do we dare say 'No' to every phone call? No way can we say 'yes' to every request. Must I also respond to other charities as well? But I already channel my giving through my church. I know not what course others may or may not take; nor do I know how others should or should not respond. But not long ago, I found a fulfilling way that works for me.
For a good while, I was asking myself, "What can they do with so little when their need is so great? Will they appreciate my little gift or will they look down on me?" I felt better when a 'Thank you' letter came to me a few weeks ago. It read, "Your generous gift of $1 in December 2017 to ..... will help continue the lifesaving care for children like 9-year old ...."
I must share with you in condensed form the reason for that letter which came from one of at least about six different organizations that I support with $1 per month. I am so very excited about the new personal missions endeavor that God placed on my heart more than a year ago. So many well-meaning charities are constantly asking for money, and for a long time, I simply said "No, I'm sorry. I give to my church and that's about all I can do". But one day I sensed that a still small voice was speaking to me that said, "You can send each organization $1 each month that they send you a letter requesting a donation. I said "Yes" to that voice that I believe was God's voice. He showed me how to do a little bit more than I was already doing, and I am a much richer man for having done so.
060521PSCtest(2nd contest entry), $ Poetry Contest, Anthony Biaanco
02132018 FB PS Contest, Your Favorite Poem Written In February, Laura Loo
~~~~GO ON... SON~~~~
At the edge of your nail
dancing of success
requesting for time and effort
from you, to have a grasp
I needs must sweat
to have endless acquire
What one acquires with one's sweat
goes endless years
My son, what sweat you've shed
to say it is enough
next steps that lies forth you
maybe the key to success
So relax not
in pursuing your dream.
~~~~ROSE~~~~
At the coastline of a stream
stood a beautiful rose
I wondered, had she a mermaid
but fresh from head to toe
without a fish tail
A thoughtless wind
tossing to and fro her attire
as a swaying kite
I moved to her
within her angelic eyes
A chime of lonelyness
Like a ringing-bell
My heart danced
singing song of infatuation
I wanted to say HI girl
Suddenly, I heard humming
Of a speedboat from afar
She smiled; is it for me?
Is the smile for me?
I thought
She moved toward the guy
and then into the boat
Anger smiled within me
the surf burst into laughing
I watched them
as they begin to go
till they vanished within empty space.