Long Rights and wrongs Poems
Long Rights and wrongs Poems. Below are the most popular long Rights and wrongs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rights and wrongs poems by poem length and keyword.
I need to lose my way
To assure the path I chose isn't in disarray
Too many 'Perhaps I should' kept me in dismay
And too often too much too silent I lay
The right thing I'm always trying to do
I wonder... why do I try?
The wrong thing from myself I'm trying to fool
It felt good... why do I lie?
We do not begin as whole
We are our empty shells we fill undeservingly
To be full we thought we know
I was full yet so drain I am to acknowledge... me
The wrong thing is what I need
Rightfully wrong to know what is right
Because the strongest suit can be answered weak
It is afterall a poisonous medicine in every righteous’ plight
Too often... too much... too silent I helplessly lay
'Perhaps I should'... mindlessly stray
Because both right and wrong paths is in absolute disarray
Either or neither nor... the rights and wrongs to lose a way
Things can be intimidating
within life as we grow
Treading through time
nullifying life’s hardships
prospering life’s greatness
alluring as my mindset
seeks meaningful reset
Everything is simple
yet so complex
We need to stop at times
just to take a breath
Sometimes things are sad
traumatic and painful
making you think it’s over
praying for one day more
Then life takes the ones we love
Leaving us speechless
disheartening within
hurting inept
Once in awhile life gracefully bestows wonder
Inquiring if questions are reflections on display to be blundered
Seemingly inquisitive thoughts inside with no end or regret
Things return back to the start
letting us know that we’re smaller than we think
Not having to take a look at ourselves without artificial instinct
Can’t wait for tomorrow morning day and night
Seeing your steaming allure
like a mysterious illustration
an illustrious delight
All being able to see your new vision of treasure or treason
Restitutions has always been served in discussions of pleasing
Rights and wrongs in violence against those who try to deceive you
People are puppets displayed upon life’s stage
Miniature ideals swirling amongst giants
Tranquility in awe swaying forever throughout trials and tribulations
Destruction of chaotic behavior
without temptations
Living amongst devious peers
carelessly unaware of violent relations
Lingering souls into the valley of good
wanting, needing, longing throughout
Timing is everything
undoubtedly profound
I’m staying with y’all for eternal devour
unsure of what is to come
returning from lost sanctions
while leaving you complacent
lingering around the worlds own stage set
Thanks for your time
I appreciate the kindness of your heart
depiction for your regards
and departing life's clout
Longing for the next opportunity again
shedding all happiness
leaving my own prints
Somehow Someway Someday morning or late
I’ll be here for you
inside my mindless debates
Joy
Is enthusiasm
Personified,
And enthusiasm is from enthuse,
Which is from God,
Which is important
To most, not all, and this is okay.
Because we do not have to get our
Joy
In the same way, with the same ideas,
From the same books, or thoughts,
We also cannot experience joy
In the same way.
It would be nigh onto impossible,
As we do not have the same
Backgrounds, or the same
Experiences, and certainly
Not the same families.
But wait, butterflies and
Dragonflies and flowers are
Joyful to all of us, right?
Not if you stepped on an
Angry bumble bee barefoot
While you were looking at them.
Not if you were molested in a bedroom
With them on the wall.
The same rights and wrongs have
Not happened to us.
The same writes are not going to happen
To us either, although, to be truly honest,
I am quite enthusiastic when I read a
Poem and six neonate ideas spring out of
This poet’s ideas into my waiting,
Anticipating brain!
Sometimes I can
Barely wait to
Get to my
Computer
Which is why
I try to read
Everything I
Can.
Because right now,
Even if it is only for
A year, or only
For nine months,
Which we are coming
Up to in a few days,
Writing poetry is
Currently my
Latest obsession
And it still brings
Me joy.
As soon as the joy is gone,
I will disappear and no one
Will know where, but here is the
Why.
Because I do not do things
If they do not bring me
Joy.
Because there
Would
Be no
Point,
When I lose
Enthusiasm
It is over.
Writing
At one time
Was a big deal
For me, but I
Lost the joy,
And it was
Gone for
Nigh onto
40 years.
Obsessive compulsive?
You bet.
Joyfully so.
Thank you, dear friend, poetry, for the way you speak my thoughts.
The way they turn to harmony—without you, they're all knots.
You put words into rhythm and sing them into songs;
You weigh them on a scale and sort the rights and wrongs.
Thank you for allowing me to share what's on my mind,
For saying all the things I think; I know they aren't all kind.
Thank you for befriending me and letting me express—
All my feelings, all my sadness, especially my stress.
Thank you, dear friend, poetry, for how you comfort me;
It's like hearing my own lullaby, I like the way you sing.
No pressure to explain myself, or justify my reason;
You give me all the space I need—I visit you in season.
Thank you, dear friend, poetry, for gifting me your mask.
You've never made me take it off; you'll never even ask.
Thank you to my friend, for sharing with your heart,
For noticing when mine goes out, and helping me re-start.
The grass is so green,
so very very green,
the trees with the shadows
are glowing.
today is the day,
my very last day,
soon I will be going.
those mountains so high,
so very very high,
the glaciers as they flow
are singing.
today is the day,
my very last day,
soon I will be going.
the Sun and the moon,
night morning and noon,
with the beautiful stars
are shining
today is the day,
my very last day,
soon I will be going.
memories and thoughts,
of love and sweethearts,
the many in my life,
I would be missing,
today is the day,
my very last day,
soon I will be going.
the rights and wrongs,
learnt through prayers and songs,
that many after me
will still be learning,
……
today is the day,
my very last day,
soon I will be going.
Melancholic notes of a lone flute brush past my ears,
the night yet to settle but the sun long gone,
only a rosy pink glow shimmering behind depthless clouds.
A drizzle of rain falls gently,
ricocheting off of the wooden roofs,
running off its slanted edge,
thrumming harmonically on the stone slabs below.
How many springs has it been since you left,
I wonder as I think about us.
The rights and wrongs of our past have already begone,
yet how can I leave it all behind?
Your golden eyes, your radiant smile,
the starry love I once wished to be.
I gaze deep into my cup
watching it fill with rain,
drop by drop; inch by inch
mirroring the tears gathering in my eyes
and the growing pain.
Bittersweet memories circle me like a fire,
unable to escape.
Full of people is the world,
yet none like you will ever return.
I always tell myself that it is better to let you go,
maybe I pretend it was all a dream,
but I keep coming back,
Back to the place where we belong together.
I picture how you used to sit here,
the rays of sunlight diving through the pine trees,
picture them illuminating you as you played the flute so elegantly.
The laughs we shared, the tears we shed,
that's all gone now; memories are my everything.
So many evenings I have sat here,
losing myself in history,
reminiscing in the tunes you used to play
and in those melodies I find solace,
somewhere where the pain is not so great,
somewhere where the grief won't rip canyons in my heart.
So as I pick up your flute and begin to blow,
the first shaky notes of Dance of the Blessed Souls
rings across the countryside.
A dark angel writes in the air,
“There will be no tomorrow for you.”
Then puffs of shiny cloud ebb,
Ebony night surrounds me.
I tremble in fear.
I hover between now and never,
as if I'm traversing a rough river
on one bank: life, on the other: death.
I feel an ebbing of nothingness,
like gulping down bad breath,
or gasping in asphyxia,
between a being and non-being,
sandwiched between heaven and hell.
Which way must I go?
Lord make the right choice for me,
for I tremble in fear.
How oft had I been told,
hell is an illusion, don't believe!
Now it seems like reality and I fear.
I see my past, its rights and wrongs,
a sort of blind imbalance,
not a hair is lost.
Where is the illusion now?
Or worse is it delusion and regret,
that I could have achieved much more?
Thus I tremble in fear.
Spirals of fog surround me,
whirls of fatal mists envelop me,
a long dark tunnel with a faint light ahead.
But what lies at the end?
An ephemeral awakening or an eternal damnation?
What weapons are left for such a fight?
I can only give my soul up and pray:
O Lord, I trust in Thee.
I fear no more.
Our time has come
to turn from dance
with Owl's night-wise Medicine
Deep sultry listening
for wide empathic languages
whispering iconic myths
of syntax flowing paradigms
Reaching across Full Moon shadow
to inside passion die for outside pleasure
in contented ego/eco-flying Presence
within soaring without
Free of struggling
with letting go of anger
for AnthroCapitalized ignorance.
Frustration with our own slow to learn sense
that our best colonizing years are behind us,
if only because we prefer
to die in wealth of Full Moon's bodhisattva rebirth.
To struggle through this narrow breach
of polypathic pilgrimage
this dark MidWay Eve,
to relinquish all fear of fear
of folding
and refolding Earth's timeless synergy,
eternally felt Being Present
reconnecting regenerative tisssue
of progenitor's FullMoon Medicine issues
HumaneSelf reconceiving DivineOther
co-empathic eve of solsticing
wise dicing esteem,
Prime Ego/Eco-Elational CoIdentity.
Silent nights of peacefully resonant laughter
are not most Holy Nights,
purgation's Advent darkly waiting
opens sublime ego/eco- bipartisan therapy
of Earth Rights and Wrongs
are also Me,
WE Wide Web of Earth Tribes,
emerging from FullMoon wondrous Heaven
and NewMoon Earth
awesomely co-present
AnthroHours
and co-enlightening days
and EarthAnimated seasons
regenerating bicameral laughter
with deep co-respect
and widely Peaking Presence
Silent smiling
coherently inclusive rememory
of warm waving
co-gravitating humor
in love as life
spreading wild as moonlight
on this wise CoElational Eve.
i was listening to Levertov read
one of her poems
and as she spoke my mind drifted
her words were of those moments
when manunkind sinks its' teeth
into the bowels of the earth
rapes untold but well known
riches for itself
my mind wandered from the reading
a slow walk thru the cedar forest
of the Levant, now gone
sitting on the ocean's floor
in sunken ships, rotting
sad but it is a fate
commerce will never be denied
as the neolithic exploded
agriculture within that admixture
abundance must be moved
but the most horrifying aspect therein
it paid for a military
the wars began, humanity failed itself
the Garden's tale repeats itself
Denise proves the point
the poets' words are in themselves
moments when the rights and wrongs
suddenly appear in neural pathways
marching from the shadows
as Sherlock Holmes noted
hidden within until life demands a clue
why in Medieval times the adage
following the overthrow of a king
what should we do next, warriors sing
kill the poets comes the cry
which is why they live in no cages
they are free-range natured
to wander the land in freedom
where imagination and inspiration
lie in the most surprising places
neural pathways within
inebriated by atoms surrounding them
a liquor brewed from casks
where creativity floats in pearls
adorned in every jewel
gifts from the heavens above
where success is the sweetest
the moment it moves from the mortal
into the realms of the immortal
coming full circle
as Auden so well points out
time says nothing more than
i told you so
we were never a paradise lost
OKC 7/22
There are so much beauty out there
Perhaps within the lesser side of life
So much rights and wrongs to care
How did we learn to survive?
When there are so much beauty
Perhaps between a greater side hidden
Too much to gather for one’s reality
Have we a chain we made broken?
Faith... a lesser hope
Hope... a defining wish
Have we enough to cope?
Ae there beauty to be missed?
After so long... with that much
I cannot find myself to belong
Some world too beautiful to touch
Will I find myself too soon to begone?
So much beauty if we care
Were there a lesser self for a side of life?
Rights and wrongs are forever there
When did we learn to survive?