Long Reverenced Poems
Long Reverenced Poems. Below are the most popular long Reverenced by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reverenced poems by poem length and keyword.
I watched the endless procession of stalwart youth, resplendent in their panoply gathered, a
steelly passion filling resolute gait.
And I asked of them, "To what place does such noble assemblage march?"
"To the Temple of Ares, and Glory's Gate, to burn of names in Honor's book
That they may be reverenced by heroes," said they.
A thousand sundry banners danced in the morning breeze,
And the sun this day was no more radiant than hard Youth's gaze which beheld it.
Then, an eagle, portentious? burst forth from the sky's vast vault to augur their triumph!
But they could not see his tired tear, so far the distance...
And soon, unleashed, the gods of carnage with ghastly abandon sang their drunken
Practiced hymn-
Of young hearts cleft by musket or spear, "Oh, let swords, lusting, rage,
And thirsting deeply drink
As the glory of kings is yet again
By the blood of children authored.
Then walked I 'mongst the torn and sacred dead
Through a sea of gore and Glory served...and
Came upon a writhing form whom playful Death had not full claimed
As charred lips mouthed their sad entreating:
"Grant me, sir, some kind embrace, and a hand not raised in wrath-
for now I die, all dreams undone, as forlorn seas strong beckon."
And then, another broken form lied grasping a comrade's dead limp hand
Whose emptied eyes now stared afixed upon some nameless moment of Eternity,
Lifeless, cold, and sad, unknowing the touch of the lover's dying kiss
Collapsing, still, and quiet atop him...
A father stooped to lift the head of his precious shattered boy,
As with Grief's awkward tenderness his fine locks stroked,
And hoped some life to thereby confer...
And a crescendoing rumble filled the valley. For Ares laughed.
Then I saw a spectral legion and asked of their shadowed ranks-"Where do you march, of
Withered souls?"
"To the House of Death and Tears...alas, to Death and tears."
Behind them not too much afar, with the clamouring of bugles and the thunder of drums rose
once more the strident cry:"To Glory's Gate!" as in witness the Dead sighed and Ares bellowed
in his mirth...
I’ve often wondered, if it weren’t written in the Bible
Would I have done it anyway?
Would I have given the same honor to my mother and father
And faithfully reverenced God every Sabbath day?
Would I have upheld my code just as passionately
In treating others as I’ve always hoped to be?
If I hadn’t read it or been told it was proper
Would I still be praying each night on bended knee?
At the altar, was it the mouthing of written vows
That kept me loyal and faithful to my wife?
Or only for the command having been chiseled in stone
That I’ve not taken another man’s life?
As a country, why only after laws had been written
Were women finally permitted to cast a vote?
And blacks given the freedom that should never have been taken
What were we pretending back then not to know?
Some opine man to be inherently good
Believing God’s word is written upon the tablets of their souls.
If true, then why all the lying and cheating and hate crimes
And why the distinction between friends and foe?
Bump a cup full of water from the table,
And it’s no surprise when only water spills to the floor
For we intuitively know, what’s been poured in will spill out
No sane man would expect anything more.
Likewise, we are all “full of”…something
Vessels brimming with both virtue and sin.
And when life “bumps” us what spills out will surely reveal
The content of the character we hold within.
When a pickpocket meets a saint he sees pockets,
And when a saint meets a sinner, he sees God’s child.
For it’s the lens of our souls that determines our sight
And how we see others always reflects what’s inside.
So, if God wrote anew, “You’re free to do as you wish
Forget the joys of heaven, and fear not the fires of hell.
Treat all men and women as your heart sees fit
With no future rewards to gain and no sword of justice to be felt.”
If, after such a command was written, you carried on
Loving your neighbor as yourself, come what may,
The Golden Rule has already been etched upon your heart
And rest assured, you would’ve done the right thing anyway!
Form:
my life is like a string
being stitched together and coming undone
being stitched together and coming undone
my heart is like a rainstorm
the pitter-patter of my soul filled of love soliloquies unsung
filled of promises broken and repeated and rerun
and broken again
and again
my life is like a string being stitched together and coming undone
being stitched together and coming undone
filled of triumphs and awards and “Bug, I’m so proud of you”
and crushed spirits disguised as “fun” and “Am’Agyn look what you’ve done” and look who you’ve become and look what you all have forced me to be
my life is like a string being stitched together and coming undone
being stitched together and coming undone
my face is like a quilt weaved in relationship but laced in regret but reverenced with love
the smile of my mom and the rest of my dad
whose absence I swear doesn’t affect me but sometimes I wonder if with him id be less sad
if with him that first heartbreak wouldn’t have broken me and left me me feeling more alone than had
more hurt than healed
more hated than held
My life is like a string being stitched together and coming undone
Being stitched together and coming undone
and to the first boy I loved i still whisper your name in every breath
because I meant it when I said until apart does us death
My life is like a string being stitched together and coming undone
Being stitched together and coming undone
Highly decorated, often imitated, never duplicated, still and yet they say it’s luck- Am’Agyn Nae Spencer
Unforgettable, remarkable, and always “the one”
yet and still bursting at the seams, seeping with yearning, a pine that could leave you foaming at the mouth, a pain that you wouldn’t believe until it poured out
or until its weaving weakens
like a stubborn string
being stitched together and coming undone
being stitched together and coming undone
Martyer
Martyer
His main idea was not survival unless you count the spirit at the end of life. The
hatred in his heart for the people cheering and jeering left him in just one
moment of his time. A heart given to the LORD will never die but is beating now
inside the body of the christian.
The man was name of mud or even fence his name is not important but just for
this one poem call him JIM. Jim went to the ARENA against his own will and torn
inside to try to survive and live. The end of time comes to some in the form of real
life death. The crowd was silent as the MAN strode to the LION and slapped him
twice so hard the lion felt it.
The man was soon destroyed by the LION just reacting just a thing created to be
smiting
anything and anyone that bothers it. This man JIM was soon a thing of many
pieces laying there. This is called martyr when a MAN gives of himself to his own
LORD the life given unto him is now returned. This is very hard to do and seems
so odd and yet the way to Heaven is not easy for most men and the Lion would
not eat the man for food it seemed to sense that the party was now over. The
Emperor was Constantine he loved the sport and watched it endlessly not no he
did not like the persecutions but even this Constantine was unable to save the
life of JIM the martyr the christian the friend of JESUS . ROME continued in its fall
and fell from Grace but thanks be unto Constantine for making it a better place.
When Diocletian and Maximian announced their retirement in 305, the problem
posed by the Christians was unresolved and the persecution in progress. Upon
coming to power Constantine unilaterally ended all persecution in his territories,
even providing for restitution. His personal devotions, however, he offered first to
Mars and then increasingly to Apollo, reverenced as Sol Invictus.
The chief powers that are given to us with sanctifying grace are the 3 Theological Virtues
And the 7 Gifts of the Eternal Holy Spirit
The 3 Theological virtues are Faith
Hope
And Charity
Faith is a virtue by which we believe on the word of Eternal God all the truths He hs revealed
Hope is the virtue by which we firmly trust that Eternal God will give us Eternal happiness
And the means to obtain it
Charity is the virtue by which we love Eternal God above all things for His own sake
And our neighbor as ourselves for the love of Eternal God
Charity is love of Eternal God
The Charity of Eternal God is poured forth in our hearts by the Eternal Holy Spirit
Who has been given to us
The 7 Gifts of the Eternal Holy Spirit are Wisdom
Wisdom is a gift of the Eternal Holy Spiritwhich makes us able to judgerightly about them
Rather than the things of the world
Understanding a gift of the Eternal Holy Spirit which enable us to see more clearly into the mysteries of our faith
Counsel is a gift of the Eternal Holy Spirit which guides us in practical matters
Fortitude a gift of the Eternal Holy Spirit which enable us to love Eternal God no matter what stands in the way
Knowledge a gift of the Eternal Holy Spirit which makes us love Eternal God reflected in all creatures
And to praise Him in them
But yet to see the nothingness of creatures in themselves so that we will desire Eternal God alone
Piety a gift of the Eternal Holy Spirit which makes us love and reverenced Eternal God as our Eternal Father
Helps us to love all men as children of Eternal God
And brothers and sisters in Father Christ
And Fear of the Divine Lord great love and reverence for our Divine Lord
Which keeps us by offending Him by sin
We sing the song today withal our pride
For the nation who gave us our life,
Let us forgive for a day all enmities
And solely beclam their souls
Who bled freedom for us to live and peacfully die.
Let us unite today one nation not several states
One religion not casteism, one culture not classism,
Let us worship today one idol not millions we reverenced
One language not parted, one trait not fallacious
For those who bled freedom for us to bask and relish the daylight.
We sing the song today withal our pride
For those who sweated for us to gratify our hunger,
Let us praise for a day with all dignity
And give their life a day to live
For those who ploughed and gave the nation its scenic greenary.
Let us bestow with one individual not one amongst the crowd
One voice not hollers, one vision not apathetic eyes,
Let us preach today for one regime not unbiased politics
One person not any gender, one love not any protagonist
For those who honored our nation with medals and fame.
We sing the song today withal our pride
For those who penned us their creative literally works and arts,
Let us pray a spiritual rebirth with all dedication
And narrate their noble life
For those who treasured our nation with poetries, stories and fine arts.
Let us travel together with one destination and no bar
From Kutch to Churra, from the Himalaya to Nicobar
We are all martyrs, let us be blessed by the holy bathe in the Ganga
And unite the masses with the spirit of the song of our nation
For all those who deserve, let us salute for them hoisting the flag
Our Pride, Our nation, India.
Note: Dedicated to all the Indians. Happy Independence Day. (15th August, 2011)
As exemplary as a High Priest
and consecrated as a Temple's Inner Chamber.
Respected amongst his colleagues,
reverenced by His subordinates,
distinguished, honorable and set apart.
Then came the moment of Truth
like the refining fire which may burn or may purify.
A Golden Opportunity never to be seen again,
but a situation to break or to make him.
This is Crude Diamond Ore from a glance
already anticipating to do it at once
creating an allabi with occurrence in France
and covering all traces in utmost Brilliance
Not minding his activated self-repugnance
certainly it will give birth to wealth and public acceptance.
If Life gave him more options, he'd freelance.
But with this one opportunity, he'd like to dance.
Having no qualms; even if he disappoints his fans.
He isn't to be blamed if Life is not a balance
and success among all has no concomittance.
This is the start to his enjoyment galore
but can be forever hunted by the Law.
The heaped pressure pressing more and more,
but what the Hell! It's just one flaw.
With a blessing so raw,
attached with bountiful Harvest he never saw.
Thinking of his glory and celebration
and already holding his blessing
like a woman in lactation
yet a part of him suppresses
his whole in castigation
making him feel so useless
like a man facing castration
forcefully taking his freedom
and peace in extortion
Just about to make the decisive move,
he resisted the push and forgot about the groove
having in mind, something to prove
he signed the blank cheque without adding another "0"
Love is ultimate, but with you it was fatal.
I had lots of laughter not until I said “I love you too!”.
Number two was my certified location
b’cos I’ve always reverenced you so high
at the topmost of priorities.
Your gladness was much more than my enjoyment,
it germinated into compulsory duties I had to perform.
My pride became your belt and my shame, your underpants.
The definition of me translated to the adoration of you.
I worry to give us a balance
but you hurry to topple the equilibrium.
My life, a spreadsheet of your errands,
subjecting my feelings into a standby
to suit your taste and exhausting comfort.
But one day!
The slightest of contact with an acid
will change the litmus colour
and a continuous debt by a tenant
will abruptly render him homeless.
Your oil is used up, the engine is knocked
and the lamp has gone dark.
A heart so tender, you deserve not.
Arms once warm have been frozen to rigor motes.
My back is turned towards you
and that beauty, you’ll never see again.
Go and taste the seedlings of the city’s daughters
and the well sauced soups of its young maidens.
I’m no longer yours even if nature advocates for mercy.
Consider my sweetness and calm now as stones
mixed in dough, baked and served with vinegar.
You proclaim “I’m now a completely changed man”,
I believe you, but for the next girl.
Know this Mr. Irresistible guy,
even if you’re the last birth of all men
I’ll never again present my affections for your selfish trade.
Goodbye my past lover, I sincerely wish you well.
Hi keep me in your visage,
keep me in your sociostew
quote me in a passage
or hey, F U
themes, ideas, sonnets,
mambypamby contrivances set to words
tell me your thoughts are merely
terds. No creativity, stilitd patterns,
prose passivity and illcreated
rhytm lanterns given to pre cunni
lingual callings set to teen tonal
twitterings of **** adult annoyances
of prepostadnoidial fake frontal toe the line
godforbidugetpregnantwhileI haveuinthe
backseatofmycar,basementmotelroomparkalbeit
sanctifiedmarriagewithalloftheaccruments beguiledgiven to the EverWaiters
of sexo satisfied vagino villified vanilla wafer
wishes until the wounded wedding night cherry bursting
(yea right)
bomb blast blemishes. Keep it in in novative organ aztional
invigor ative essence to stand by yr manwomanpersonit
as statedstated by state in a reverenced supreme courted not society
given to a biased"What the hell do we do now guys/gals and inbetweens", SFHD.
Guess it and get the prize, or play our home game
as your consolation gift.
We r un evolving without the neutral notion of
core capacity locus of control and seminal socialization.
We r what we BE and all else is con
trivity. Sons/daughters noncompliant with the so be its and told u so's
do as I do keep it simple, we as boomers ahve set a style too conseropliant to
reinvent the self. youth recapitulate your entity and serve no one unless it
benefits those insufficient to a misnomer antiquated to a universal device
dead to annoyance and brevity. Unforgiving to a future promise.
All for one and one for all.
mother carey’s chickens scream
as they slide just above wave height
following our creaming wake
as we plough forwards on to night.
there is a peculiar type of silence
in that dark not dark out here at sea
more of a reverenced muted hush
as the stars break suddenly free
to pinpoint the arched non darkness
as the waves break and hiss
rolling surely around our hull
like a mother’s all embracing kiss
and the water seem to beckon me
tempt me but mange somehow to fail
night after night calling to me
as I press hard against the rail
and mother carey’s chickens
heel and glide and swerve around
joining their soulful calling
to the other oceanic sounds
and in the enclosure of the night
midway to the approaching morn
I can understand a call to dying
for it seems far too far to dawn
and the orchestra of nature still
plays its solemn unconcerned air
calling always calling
for you to join it there
there is a certain time when
the will to win that fight
seems to want to ebb away
and then suddenly first light
mother carey’s chickens salute
you’ve managed to survive
yet one more night at sea
and come through it alive
but our voyage is just started
maybe it will prove too long
and I or someone like me
will succumb to the siren song
mother carey’s chickens
role and glide and scream
dive through your sleep
to enter into your dream
it’s all part of fascination
of a life spent on the sea
as though I’m a part of nature
and that same nature’s part of me