Long Self indulgence Poems
Long Self indulgence Poems. Below are the most popular long Self indulgence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Self indulgence poems by poem length and keyword.
Are the “Things” that we have
The “things” we really need?
Are the “Things” that we want,
Out of necessity or greed?
“Things” are all the items
We are told that we must get,
Putting the naive misguided people
Deeper and deeper into debt
Told to us by big corporations
With their lying alluring ads
By a greedy society’s self-indulgence
Falling for the falseness
And ridicules new fads
THINGS,THINGS…. THINGS
And more “things”
New houses, stylish clothes
Nice cars and diamond rings.
How many “Things”
Does a person have to obtain
Before they finally realize
They are just greedy selfish and vain
That is why I keep my “Things”
Few and far between
Because the ugliness of always wanting
To me is clearly seen
My humble life is packed
With everything that I really need
And I am free of all the want
Vanity and greed
My heart and soul are full
With Love, hope and kindness
And the happiness it brings
Because I finally realized
The best things in life
Aren’t material “things”
July 17 Scripture Meditations Based on Isaiah 19-23
Key Verse – Isaiah 23:11 He stretched out his hand over the sea, he shook the kingdoms: the LORD hath given a commandment against the merchant city, to destroy the strong holds thereof.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR STRETCHING OUT YOUR HAND OVER ME
Thank You for stretching out Your hand over me and my self-righteousness
With Your salvation’s holiness
That covers my confessed sinfulness by Your forgiveness…
I give myself to Your heart-sanctifying pureness.
Thank You for stretching out Your hand over me and my self-pity
With Your mercy’s bounty
That enhances my spiritual beauty…
I entrust myself to Your soul-valuing verity.
Thank You for stretching out Your hand over me and my self-interest
With Your plan’s best
That vanquishes my esteemed pride pest…
I surrender myself to Your ambition-checking test.
Thank You for stretching out Your hand over me and my self-indulgence
With Your control’s prevalence
That subdues my complaining persistence…
I submit myself to Your faith-upholding permanence.
Thank You for stretching out Your hand over me and my self-fulfillment
With Your leadership’s engagement
That rebukes my worldly enjoyment…
I offer myself to Your sacrifice-approving bestowment.
Thank You for stretching out Your hand over me and my self-sufficiency
With Your clemency’s excellency
That halts my materialistic tendency…
I bring myself to Your contentment-satisfying constancy.
Thank You for stretching out Your hand over me and my self-exaltation
With Your humility’s function
That breaks my haughty disposition…
I yield myself to Your life-transforming perfection.
A single poppy blooms by the lake shore.
I can tell you how it came to be there.
Oh, I did not plant it, or give it care.
I knew the man who did and what it’s for.
Some men builders, others are destroyers.
Destroyers identified by this trend,
Nothingness and loneliness at life’s end.
Self-indulgence is their life’s employer.
Just such a man was the poppy planter.
A purveyor of anger, hate, and smoke.
Life revolved around just another toke.
To all God’s wisdom he did recanter.
Nothing he planted in life ever grew.
Selfish, unstable, and always unable,
To love anyone more than his own fable,
Which he spewed out incessantly on cue.
A lone poppy blooming on a lake shore.
A single flower signaling there’s hope.
God can breathe life to places remote.
Destroyers don’t win, the builder restores.
I admonish unto myself as I gaze thoughtfully at the grand flock of birds flying in circles;
It is as if they lost the current of wind that so directed them to the warm breeze
Of their winter home.
Their faulty lead so greatly mimics the threshold that I have broken on this cold November
day.
I cannot begin to explain my self-indulgence concerning quaint but ever so austere memories
Of the many realities I have beheld in my
lifetime.
While this racking of thought protrudes my mind in constant reverie,
I can’t relinquish the infallible gifts bestowed upon me graciously throughout my many trials.
Therein I find hope;
Hope that will assist me in this ferocious expedition to find the truth of my existence.
Love is alike a whisper among the deaf and a light among the blind. Many have claimed to understand it and many have claim to be apart of it but alike religion, they all seem to fall short of scripture.
Love unites us all is what they say according to the rational of those claiming to be within the grasps of these inauspicious schisms as they are coddled betwixt irony and self indulgence.
Your love is salvaged only by the reluctant anecdote of those accused and in favor of self-actualization.
Their love is not only a topic of mass hysteria brought forth by the fraudulent offspring of timeless arrogance but "love" is also a wedge between free will and the limitations prevailed by hatreds depth.
Love, is beyond the reckoning of dimensional rifts and broken spatial constructs contiguous by the darkness of man born antipathy.
This is the love you idolize and seek victory within.
This is the love you claim as a self redeeming gift.
This is the love you can only grasp tangibly and without rapport.
My love, wasn't
With whispered farewells breathed from the fiery lips of The Western Sun, She slips to that dark resting place beyond horizon’s edge as yet another grain falls forever through the glass of time- leaving me spellbound,,, held in trance of passing moment’s beauty and ever mindful of price paid to bear witness of such- for I live not under deception my days are without number.
I cast my thoughts in direction of task yet unfulfilled- living in hope the morrow shall bring more favorable end to such as I take pause to smile in moment of such self indulgence. Still,,,with intent to hurry on my way I find my spirit delightfully brightened by the waking hellos of evening stars and moonlit paths which lead to home.
Peace reigns in it’s moment of glory - suffering no loss in the memories of a well finished day- bringing thoughts of rest, the warm haven of home and glimmer of hope eternal.
8/11/12
----------------------------------------------------------
There is a small soul within every crowd
A soft voice against the senile bickering of the strong
And the small souls wish they would listen
Wish you would listen
But the ears of the majority have been stuffed with pride
The puffed up breads have come out of the oven
And the oven closes on the non-finished
They were never finished
The masterpiece was torn
They ripped off its horn as they lavished in greed
Letting the soul bleed in the cruel wreck of silent despair
As they laugh knowingly and unmercifully
And I am left to listen to the blood trickling, groveling at my feet
I am left to the weak—the strong
The purified—the gone
I do not want to ruin everything by mending
As everyone is breaking I am bending
And my throat is constricted
The air has caught wind of a little soul’s voice
Begging for acceptance. . .for love
For an ear that isn’t breaded with self-indulgence
Crusted in disgust. . .drooping the damned
I am transformed into an image of a god
For this poor, sweet, ignored soul
Lies are his god. . .listen to my words
And rot
Listen as it constricts you—as I inflict you
It is better if I had never existed
I will not be worshipped in this prison!
You are everything to me and nothing
And the cursed breads rise
Sweet scents pour into your flaring nostrils
Watering my sunset eyes
And you see me watch as they turn their minds away
A guide towards lies and sticky debris
You follow the path not caring where it leads
Hearing the voices that refuse to clear their ears
And that therefore blind them
In worry and fear
I caress your tear and swallow
Your words like a vacuum
The disposable bag is always empty with dirt
Like a hearse I drive your body away
My blackness flaring
My horn honking
As everyone is staring. . .not wanting to know what I am carrying inside
I used to sleep with depression and kiss shame on the cheek
Trying to run from all the lies, but myself was chasing me
I was drowning from all that I cried but let me tell you what one of HIS tears did for me
But, first I must rewind to my past where my thoughts were slowly choking me
I even circled a couple of dates with no lady R.I.P.
Fast forward in one months time I'm totally free, compared to about 28 years of new age slavery
I was chained to regret, opinions, debt, social media, threats, fear, pride, and of course selfishness
Alcohol got me too, I was thirsty but never quenched
In stress I was drenched
Then my speech that was meant for life became a toxic poison, so please, please, please, excuse my french
And I'm spite of getting drunk off my own self indulgence
HE still chose me as well as all of you ladies and gents
HE took my life and erased it clean, giving me a new genesis, in His love I am redeemed
I deserve absolutely nothing but in Him I have more than everything
So I preach the sermon of my testimony to all who are listening
I no longer live the life I used to breathe
I was speeding towards death, hanging myself where He died for me, and took His last earthly breath
So, He sent me a reminder text
I am next
To still waters, a firm Oak Tree
And one by one He removed the nails of persecution from my being
Therefore I sing a praise of Hallelujah and hear the voices of angels echoing
Oh what a joy it is too walk with Jesus again, my strength is planted in His roots like osmosis
He lit candles around the past of my diagnosis
So I could forever smell the scent of victory
One thing about my God, He never stops working
Over time it's something we all see, so I encourage you to sell Him first and often
I now remain present in His presence, humbling myself and emptying out all of the world I still hold
Multiplied two fold I repent
With freedom I am chained to the love of His new covenant
No matter the cross before me I remain faithfully obedient
Knowing one day all will proclaim HIM as Lord in Jesus Name
So, if you ask me what God has done in my life, these are the words I will sing
As He continues to deliver you and me
p.s. and I'ma shout it from the roof tops, better yet a mountain just in case you were wondering...
The end of days is a term
Dark enough
To make men squirm
And real enough
In a way
To make one consider
His final day…
Without regrets…who’s to say
And doing so I must look back
On what I wrought
And what I wrecked
What I built
And what I broke
What I gave
And what I took
Then the book that tallies sums
Finds me wanting
And then some
For my life
And energy
Was focused primarily
On what I wanted at the time
And self-indulgence
Seemed not a crime
To lift oneself above the throng
Seemed fitting, nothing wrong
And so I worked and earned my wage
And climbed over brothers in my rage
Having more my only gauge
My appetites were not assuaged
And more I took as if by right
And endless quest
Both day and night
Without regrets, without a care
I took far more than my share
Wealth, pleasure, and acclaim
Let my enemies
Fear my name
All these things I held in pride
And boasted to never stand aside
I thought myself a god, a king
And now face the truth
It was a worthless thing
A vanity to suppose
That fleeting riches
Even wealth untold
Could match the value
Of a single soul
Or just one breath
A solitary heartbeat
The veil between
Life and death
And now upon my end of days
I wish that I had changed my ways
And focused instead
On the sovereignty of the Lord
And humanity
Then perhaps I’d have something more
Than regrets at life’s final door
The Death of All Things...
I fall victim to my own devices
Paid the price for self indulgence
I see the dark side of the shadow because the light isn’t on my side
I’ve been to the top of the mountain
Seen things far below that no man should see
Where angels fear to tread
The fading hope and loss of belief battle me
Complacency has become my only friend
I am void of feeling in this state of resignation
I’m facing fears and I’m surrounded by my own reflections
Demons I have never overcome
Return again to haunt me
I have seen, the death of all things
From the inside looking out,
From the outside looking in,
The death of all things, one final curtain call before the fall…