Long Responded Poems
Long Responded Poems. Below are the most popular long Responded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Responded poems by poem length and keyword.
OF AN EBONY HUED MID-SUMMER NIGHT DREAM
(Apropos of We Kings, Queens, and The Fiery Furnace)
Indeed, this is a day the Lord has made:-
Considering last night’s revelation dreaming,
Waking up into this day the Lord has made,
I must enjoy and be glad for being still vertical.
Although “The Great Dream” may have been deferred,
Indeed, it has not been forgotten and deterred.
Oh, they may have murdered its dreamer, but
His and our liberation dream is immortal:-
Looking out over the horizon of our challenged life,
It is realized that we Exodus people have come a long way;
Survivors of the blood-stained shadows of horrific death:-
And we have come this far on the sojourn by faith.
Yes, we have come this far by an inherent faith—continuing
To maintain and sustain us in the present perils of our lives:-
And as African-Americans, surviving in this deemed “promise land”,
We’ve had and continue to have a special kind of relationship with God.
During our living experiences here during and after debilitating slavery,
We’ve seen, heard, felt, and responded to the Word of God in ways that
Are unique to us as an African people of God; for indeed, as chosen ones,
We’ve always been able to sing and praise God in truth and in holy spirits.
Reflecting on the truth of ourstory, it is realized that we are of a people
Whom many would have expected to have stopped singing and praying
A long time ago; yet, from generation to generation, we’ve just kept on
Singing and praising and trusting in the love of God and His redemption.
Indeed, sacred revelations continue to bring us from extermination
To exaltation, from degradation of dignity, from nobody to somebody;
With wide wondering eyes on the prize, we continue to sojourn onward
For our eyes have seen His glory as we have continued marching in His truth.
Indeed, we not only believe but know that in the savior’s favor
Life is and while our perils may endure here a little while longer,
We know that a liberating joyful stay here on earth is on the horizon
Promised by that very present help to those who live in good trouble;
Thus, let us not be exhausted nor deterred by the ghost tyranny
But with undying faith and spiritual strength, let us victoriously
Demonstrate that we are not of the children of Sisyphus’ fate;
But living reflections of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego:-
Riding a roller coaster
Propelled by life’s velocity
Governed by instincts and thought
Driven by an urge to emerge victorious
Sentience deadened to conscience
Flitting thus from desire to desire
We built an imaginary script
Of narrow ego identity
Some conquests won
We saw not unshed tears
Of mute weaker souls wasted
Owing to our callous, feral savagery
Likewise, we encountered defeat
Whereupon we steadied heart
Resolving to rise once again
Imagining ego as the doer
Our face in the mirror
Reflected pride and conceit
Beggars too began looking away
Recognising our cold, hard countenance
So it chanced to pass that by grace
One day we chose to look within
Shocked to see soul shrivelled
Lonely in our bleeding heart
We stopped the flow of time
Frozen for what seemed eternity
Crying out silently into the vast void
Wishing to be healed and feel complete
A divine voice instantly responded
Asking if our resolve was strong
To walk the talk as affirmed
In thought, word and deed
The path simple and direct
Liken it to a hop-on hop-off bus
We hop off the ego bus and choose love
Shifting consciousness from head to heart
Voice of conscience grew stronger
We dwelt not on material gain
Shifting into mindfulness
A stillness continuum
Yet love that is imbibed
Takes time for assimilation
But what matters time any more
To the one who has since vaporised
In timeless time ensconced in bliss
Empowered by a magnetic pulse
Which we may give any name
Kundalini or The Holy Spirit
Baptised in the stream
Twice born, we yet lived on
Our soul within, one with oneness
Seeing now earth life as but a lucid dream
Wherein we are being breathed by God
As He does for all sentient life forms
To fulfil our soul’s smallest wish
Now aligned with love alone
Now we do honestly confess
We know not what scriptures say
All we affirm from our life experience
Is that once we align with God’s love impulse
For each step we take, He leaps forward
Gathering us in His warm embrace
Lighting the lamp of love within
Darkness then is no more
20-January-2022
Repent and Believe Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Poem inspired by the contest prompt: 1 John 1:9 KJV - If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
Long ago, in an estuary formed by the erosion of a fjord,
There sat a piano made of petrified wood with ivy cords.
It was created by a council of beavers, which governed the waters,
Who used local flora and stones to build it, with help from the otters.
For these marine rodents had once heard a human strum a guitar,
And they wanted their own music to impress the humans from afar.
The piano's fifty-two lower keys were made of refined kyanite,
While its thirty-six raised keys were made of black hematite.
Its pedals were donated by some dories from the sea,
Who shaped them from coral plucked from a barrier reef.
As the instrument was built from aquatic and natural material,
It could stand through the torment of torrents and decay of bacteria.
When the piano was finished the beavers and otters stood proud,
And pounced on its keys, which made sounds that were only loud.
The rodents soon realized that none of them knew how to play,
The piano without fingers, so they gave up on music the very next day.
Fraught in their efforts, their hard work had been for naught,
Until a beaver found a boy squatting on a bank looking distraught.
"Why the long face, my dear child," said the beaver to the boy,
Who responded: "I've failed my parents, now I'll never know joy.
Today they bought me a beautiful baby-grand piano to celebrate,
The years of piano lessons they paid for, on my thirteenth birthday.
After seven long years of lessons and tutelage,
My ability to read notes is still way below average."
So the beaver brought the boy to what the animals had built,
To help the boy overcome his feelings of failure and guilt.
The beaver said to him then: "Play not that which you see but hear,
For music is a melodic and emotional sensation that you feel in your ears."
So the boy closed his eyes and rested his hands on the keys of gemstone,
And listened to what he heard and played the loveliest music he'd ever known.
For the boy could never read the language of music that others had wrote,
But learned he could play any sound heard, when his fingers struck the right notes.
So the boy played away to the sounds that he heard,
The current of water, and pecked songs of a bird.
As he played the animals danced with heads bobbing and nodding,
And when the boy opened his eyes he saw his parents applauding.
She didn't remember who I was
But it didn't really matter
Her eyes lit up like sunshine
Each time I entered the room
as if we were long lost friends
She'd say, "Oh! Please, sit a spell",... and I would grab a chair...
I would hand her the bag, and she would peek inside.
She wore her smile like a happy child.
Cookies !...."Oh my! My favorite kind!"
One would think it were a pot of gold.
As we chatted, she told me her about her birthday.
"December 19th!", she would remind me..
Forgetting that just the day before
we had celebrated, and even more.
She said...."Oh,..let's have a party!"
Everyone knew that this lady loved a party.
And I replied, "Of course!"
"I must be going!", she suddenly said
Said again, with a worried brow...just as she fretted the day before..
"The girls will be home from school!"
She looked around for her purse.
"I have three girls, you know,.....they will be coming home from school."
She repeated once more...."I have three daughters, you know."
I told her the girls will be fine...and that I'd like to visit a little longer.
That seemed to calm her. "Have you seen my ring?"..
She held her blue veined, withered hand high in the air for me to see.
A flash of glitter graced her finger, sparkling just like the stars in the sky.
"My husband gave it to me. It was a Valentine surprise!" she said.
"He was a rascal, you know!"
"Oh,...it's beautiful, Irene"...I responded.
"Did you know", she smiled again...."this was a Valentine surprise!"...?
"My husband gave it to me"
Finally, it was time for me to leave. I got up to say goodbye.
"Would you mind giving me a ride?" she said.
...."The girls will be coming home from school!"
I told her I would check on her girls...not to worry.
And then I told her I would be back again tomorrow..
"I have a birthday coming", she said....December l9th!! Did you know?"
Once more...I said..."Yes...we will have a party"....
"Did you see my ring?"..."My husband gave it to me on Valentines, it was a surprise!"
And I said..."It's lovely Irene....as lovely as the stars in the sky"
As lovely as Irene....
Goodnight Irene goodnight....the stars will shine brighter tonight,...
Stars always shine brighter in December........
Goodnight Irene, goodnight....
_________________________________________________________________________
Heavy and eerie silence reigned therein,
The dark rooms looking as sullen as mean,
As if they had taken serious offence
Against me who had failed in their esteem,
My heart feeling contrite was heaving tense,
To have halfway deserted my fond dream.
No one was there my inner thoughts to share,
None who so some forgiveness to me spare,
Aimless I wandered into my blank mind,
And wished I could that royal guitar find
To inveigle my heavy heart to sing:
O Fire, this poor moth that in vain wished once
To fly away, hast returned broken wing
To thee, forgive him just this one instance,
Burn away both his wings and make him lame,
Nay, consume him in thy red scorching flame.
As I wailed clue-less, my soul sinking low,
Two warm teardrops fell from above on brow.
Dark and deep clouds hung overcast on hills
That day, the gloomy woods and bare river
Awaiting in suspense with monsoon drills,
An ominous calm prevailed all over.
And soon it all shivered— land along sky,
A wild tempest blew forth O howling by,
Through pathless woods glaring its lightning teeth,
Like a raving maniac snapping chain,
Wishing to unleash hell, terrible pain
To whoso there’s on hills, whoso beneath!
And not a soul around was in the camp
To wipe dark of my heart, nor light a lamp,
I could sense: a woman lying on face—
On a carpet below the bed, clasping
Her wounded heart, and pulling hair in stress,
Blood trickling down, in utter pain, laughing
Still, bursting into a hard wringing wail,
Now, rend her bodice, now beat breasts gone frail,
And from nowhere winds roared in from windows,
The pouring rains soaked further her sorrows.
Through night the storm never did cease to rage,
Nor did my fair lady's passionate cry,
I wandered from room to room, a blind man,
Unremitting sorrows my companion,
And yet none there who could have consoled me,
As I heard the cry: ‘stay back, all is false',
Maher Ali the mad was there, no doubt,
The old tenant of this odd wailing house,
‘Tell me what’s false?' I could not help but ask,
Waiving me off was how he responded,
Repeating, ‘stay back, stay back, all is false'.
_____________________________________________
Narrative |01.04.2024|
Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali, Kshudhaarto Paashaana.
In an old vineyard
When Jesus was just a lamb
His coat eight years old
Working with the chaste Joseph
His father and guide
As the beloved Mary
Kneeled and prayed to God
In their small and humble home
A visitor came
Golden and shining brightly
Like beams of sunlight
Shooting through the home’s window
Shooting from heaven
Shooting down from the clear heights
Mary beheld him
Thinking he was her young son
Putting off his coat
With gentleness the child said
“Where is dear Jesus
My dear brother and brave twin
I want to meet him”
Mary never responded
In fearful blindness
Thinking he was a phantom
From the lightless depths
Rather than light from the heights
She seized his right arm
And tied his arm to the foot
Of the worn, torn bed
Not wishing to scare her more
He remained at peace
Not saying a single word
During this event
Jesus held an empty branch
Observing the wood
As if it were a mirror
Soon he heard Mary
Jabbering in confusion
With tears raining down
In this dim storm of wailing
Jesus heard the words
Breaking through the whirling clouds
“A phantom has come
Dressed in golden apparel
Dressed in bright lightning
Saying “Where is dear Jesus
My twin and brother
I desire to see him”
Joseph please help me”
Only Jesus saw the light
And heard the thunder
For he had wise eyes to see
And had ears to hear
He proclaimed with holy strength
“Mother, where is he
So that I may see the light
Or should I wait here
Waiting for the bright sunlight
To break through this storm”
Jesus said these words in joy
Joseph was startled
Mary wiped away her tears
They entered the house
And found the spirit at peace
Still bound to the bed
Both the parents looked at him
Then looked at Jesus
And found them to be the same
Mary walked further
And unloosed the child angel
He bowed to Mary
He and Jesus said no words
For they were brothers
They hugged with their gentle arms
Gave a holy kiss
The angel child disappeared
For he and Jesus
Became one white pearl of light
Thus the empty branch
Bloomed with delicious almonds
Bloomed with holy life
Thus this town was sanctified
Crowned with golden, shining grace
Poem based on the account from the ancient apocryphal book The Pistis Sophia, Chapter 61.
I stood on the bridge looking at the river below.
A strange-looking man came up to me and said “hello,
“Do you know where I’ll be able to find a job here?’
That is what the strange man asked me in a voice quite clear.
I said, “I don’t really know. I don‘t live very near.”
The way the man looked at me gave me a little fear.
He heard what I said, and then began to walk away.
However, I would meet that man again that same day.
The day in Wisconsin was quite hot that September.
The man I saw was heavily clothed, I remember.
I was relaxing; stretched on the grass when he appeared
the second time that day. The scenario was weird.
Not looking straight at me, he seemed to sense my presence.
He was a big man with some burgeoning corpulence.
Perspiring heavily, he would not take off his shirt.
As he spoke again, he seemed emotionally hurt.
“I haven’t held a good job in nearly forty years.”
The way this man spoke to me rekindled all my fears.
“Mind if I keep you company a little today?
I’ve been on the road a long time with no place to stay.
It’s Labor Day, the height of the carnival season.
Not one of them will give me a job for some reason.”
“What seems to be the trouble?” I asked him politely.
He said nothing. He unbuttoned his shirt quite slowly.
With his eyes closed, he would answer me somnolently.
“I hope to perspire enough, and have them all wash off.
I’ve been hoping the sun would burn me, and they’d cook off.”
With his shirt removed, he asked me if they were still there.
I responded, “Yes they are”, and could not help but stare.
Skin illustrations made their appearance everywhere.
He told me, “My appearance is enough to frighten.
So, I wear this shirt especially around children.
They follow me on the roads with curiosity.
However, they are all filled with fright when they see me.
I know this seems to you to be a very strange thing.
These things are staying on me; it all keeps on going.
I am this way all over. I hope you understand.”
He opened his fist to reveal a rose on his hand.
It looked so real; yet it was just a mere illusion.
His body was a pervasive colorful fusion.
There were all sorts of images in three dimension.
I said “They’re beautiful”. It was not my intention.
To be continued
Based on the short story "The Illustrated Man" by Ray Bradbury
Introduction: At some point of our lives, someone close to us departs off to the next
phase. We think of the good times and try not to think the bad; but sometimes it haunts us
back to how we responded in a naive way for our juvenile wishes. And sometimes we see them
in our dreams at the utmost optimism and glory. But the fact that we get to realize what
we did back then may have cherished and broken their souls in some ways, we always wonder
if we could alter the deeds that wounded their affection in our times of immaturity…And
pray that we get a second chance to do so for our next life. *the first two lines have some inspiration from another piece*
Even if our hearts were as strong as a storm, we’d still feel a little bit sad
Knowing that we’ve lost our grandfather, our friend, our dad.
For so many years, we’ve felt their presence
In so many ways, we’ve felt complete,
But truly, even if we deny – We sometimes skip a heartbeat.
Our lives are nothing but their memories and their art,
Orbiting us each day, reminding us of who we are
Where we stand and to whom we belong,
We pray and cry up oceans for them night after night
Praying to be together just one more time, in the worlds of light.
But yes you are so fortunate, that you got to leave,
You’ve made it to the greater step, I pray for us to meet.
May your soul be blessed and may it shine brighter than the sun, Again and again
‘I love you’ it’s not a lie, I may not have said it that much
But I hope you knew inside, even if I may have been unkind as such
Nothing is left for us to do but feel the tears stream down our eyes
For we, once in a while have broken their hearts with one or two lies,
Their face glows and vividly fades away from our dreams those nights
That’s when we fall, fall down to our knees, pray for we could have changed
The ways we reacted back in those days.
Thoughts of those moments, thoughts of their sorrow smile
Now makes us realize how we never cared,
For that to overcome, we treasure the good times we’ve shared,
The times we’ve heard them say “You’ve made me proud”
The times we’ve felt them lay their hands, oh so be crowned.
Their tender touch, their forgiveness
Their blessings for us and their happiness,
We pray to feel it all again
Bring it all again,
To the eternal life, after this time.
Through the hills within the woods of a mountain's slithering slopes,
A road winds its way, on which rides a car driven by a misanthrope.
Plucking from his pocket a pack of poison sticks with one hand,
To suck the smoke from a cigarette labeled with his favorite brand.
From the ashes of the cindered cylinder arises an airy sensation,
Which swirls within his head as his body suffers from oxidation.
After deciding with an apathetic puff that he'd had enough tobacco,
He flicked the cigarette through the open window with an apathetic throw.
As he drove he thought of the days to come and of his job and friends he'll see,
With the wind in his hair he happily traveled from nine at night to the morning's three.
He arrived to his destination: his parent's home for a weekend sojourn,
And in his childhood bed he drifted to sleep and awoke at eleven in the morn'.
Laughs with loved ones and home-cooked feasts had continued to unravel,
During this weekend which he ended with yet another nighttime travel.
From the suburbs of the foothills he ascended through to mountain roads,
With popping ears he picked with pinkies, producing several waxy loads.
Onward through the familiar roads which swerve along the curves of rivers,
Which pour from bleeding basins which, to below, their water is delivered.
Then, as the sun had settled its golden hue upon the wrinkles of the wooded thick,
Darkness spilled atop the forest's feathers to slather its leaves like an oil slick.
A sudden cessation of the leaves' silhouettes had slipped the sight of the distracted man,
Who, while he drove, had been lost in thought of the snacks he'd make in a frying pan.
Then, as the darkness had settled its cimmerian hue upon the naked wooded thick,
Flames spilled atop the forest's feathers which slathered its leaves like a lit oil slick.
Firetrucks battled the fire as the man stopped his car so he could walk,
Towards a volunteer fireman who stood before him to warn of the roadblock.
The man asked the firefighter what had caused the scorching of the trees,
Acres of woods burnt in smoking condensation which made the man begin to wheeze.
The firefighter responded to the man who began to trickle with sweat:
"We believe the fire was started by someone's casually flicked cigarette."
When challenged to ponder about inventory of survival-status
my mind succumbs toward sublime intellectual deconstruction
yet conquering spirit emerges to prevail with blissful glow
for triumphant testimony, exposing meaningful existence.
Analysis of faith’s wholeness
Exposes my vain worthlessness
Humbling me to seek God of grace
Completing me with love’s embrace.
When confronted vis-à-vis my understanding about the Almighty
with this vital spiritual question, "Do you really know God?
my predicament regarding the divine was then put into the crucible
an encounter that has become a milestone in my faith venture…
Faith-inquiry for the first time
Awakened my soul with blest chime
While pointed to God Who’s the way
The truth, and life I must obey.
When invited to a Bible study “to know the Lord all the more”
I declined many times being settled with my religious status
asserting that I believed in God, having been raised going to church
with parents and home, considered as good and well.
Bible study of faith-venture
By God’s prodding midst love-gesture
Did lead me to His gracious heart
And through trust, never to depart.
When I acceded to the spiritual endeavour expounding Who God is
I learned from the Scriptures His testimonies, precepts, and statutes
as well as His grace, mercy, and compassion, power and wisdom
that define and describe HIM as the Lord, and distinguish HIM as the Saviour.
Scriptures indeed exalt God’s name
Expressing what His truths proclaim
Granting me peaceful pardon peace
Thus, my skepticism did cease.
When I responded to the Holy Spirit’s gentle working
my soul received the promised life eternal offered by Jesus Christ
along His assured genuine freedom from iniquities’ condemnation
setting me toward heavenly abode along victorious journey.
Fortified faith upheld by God*
Ascends along His guiding rod
While Him I praise, thank, and worship
Serving Him through sweet partnership.
*Jude 1:25 To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.
February 10, 2022
3rd place, "Pick-A-Title, Vol 28- A Deconstruction" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 2/13/2022.