Long Shelter Poems
Long Shelter Poems. Below are the most popular long Shelter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shelter poems by poem length and keyword.
you perm and prime you shun;
You polish up your own stone;
You talk trash and jive;
You shine of uncertainty;
While yet you continually promise me;
Heller Shelter relish tones;
Cut my landline telephone;
Imprison me where you say I belong;
give me plenty of accreditation;
Concrete placement prevarication;
Who is my judge, where is my jury;
Placement on "HOLD" it's my mister-minor, huh!!
What is this a joke,
And just what is a JUKE JOint?
Fancy dancer, Chicago headliner;
Broken deflated football from Lincoln/Omaha Nebraska;
What is thing call "the CORN HUSKERS"
By chance the populace can remember
Bob Gibson, Robert Boozer who...
Maybe Gabriel Union who...
And just where is this place
What is this space that home to about 400 million
From the hood I understood, from Tech High I held my pride;
In the ghetto was that fellow teachers said He ain't gonna amount to nothing
1970's Black power you perm and prime you shun;
In the ghetto inner city polish up your stone;
Speaking Swahili you talkN trash and jive;
Politically correct master target you shine of uncertainty;
While yet you continually unpromising me;
Heller Shelter relish tones, still haten Deacon Jones?;
Cut my landline telephone on Facebook unfriend me;
Imprison me with closed eyes and mediocrity
Where do you say I belong, not here son...
git on, get gone;
give me plenty of accreditation;
Concrete placement prevarication;
Who is my judge, where is my jury;
Placement on "HOLD" it's my mister-minor, huh!!
What is this a joke,
Your life's been revoked,
Even Lucifer wants you gone
Too much heat for him, ha ha!!
Chicago's the best...
Nebraska (what) is next...
So stop playing over and over again
Curtis Mayfield and pull on the WINANS
yet I still feel even in trouble times then the best decade was the 1970's
A BROTHERLY LOVE VERSE TO MY BROTHER Freddie Robinson Jr. a brotherly dedication
8/16/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
The Genesis touch fills me with delight,
And there was no night that stars did not shine,
Before sin hides the glow from our sight,
Weak minds, rob the length of allotted time.
A gateway prevails into the formless earth,
Wasteful insurgency covers the surface.
To shelter from the storm of Gods wrath,
Time elapse, found probabilities in space.
Engrafted state conceit everything that grows,
Intrigue holds the light for a little moment,
And the danger presented doesn't always shows,
the secret of Satan’s influence and comment.
While the youth of beauty gradually decay
And changed the day into shades of gloom,
Every particle of inch went vile and stray,
From the dimness of equals hides perfection.
The outward decline, begun in Genesis
When all things shrunk in the shrouding mist,
Closed doors came upon the lovely bliss,
And chase light from Eden’s innocent crest.
Spiraling joy parted quickly into a chasm,
Creation made the dry dust unveil tears,
Immortality turned into sweat and retribution,
Soon, the pain would swallow the toil of years.
The erring child raise up hope and began
The potentials pursuit of things, once evade,
Soften grace watered the plot of land,
God looked with sorrow upon things he made.
Men hear cherubim’s beaten wings near
Fear sure and sap the remaining strength,
Tranquillity rise and flatten upon the air
Like death, paradise wreath leaves the earth.
When I consider everything, Genesis had given
Temptation unveil the failure twice befell,
In death, conceived truth we know of heaven,
And all on earth would need to know to avoid hell.
Now darkness becomes a source of strength,
There is night, and emblem of humanity’s might,
Break through the clouds with weaker breath,
And the Ark appeared triumphant in radiant light.
A dove on the wing flies swiftly over the waters
Life knew the return of seed time and harvest,
Ours was the day, to see the beauty of flowers
While we may live in hope to attain the best.
a hush beneath the hum of the world,
carved by paw or claw or time’s quiet insistence.
A hollow stitched in earth’s dark under breath,
where roots dangle like forgotten chandeliers
and the soil holds its secrets close.
It is a cradle of stillness,
a sanctuary shaped from necessity —
warmth scraped from cold,
shelter borrowed from silence.
Here, light does not trespass,
only the sound of breath and heartbeat,
slow and deliberate
as moss growing in shadow.
A burrow is not escape—
it is a return.
To the below, the before,
to the tender memory
of being hidden and whole.
"Ho is you, okay?"
I ask myself most days.
Where warmth is scraped and silence learned,
Where my hidden heart has grown.
A world beneath the trampling feet,
Where the shadows feel like you.
This place was made from quiet need,
Not weakness, not despair.
But the soft and urgent way we bleed,
When safety lives down there.
This is not retreat from pain,
But a shelter drawn from stone.
A space where sorrow has a name,
And I can sit with it alone.
No, a burrow is not escape—
It’s the memory of being whole.
"Ho is you, ok?"
The dark still wants to know.
To the tender place, to the old terrain,
To the hush that holds my soul.
As Creativity and Beauty Flee
With every sense alerted — keen,
We’ll take turns to champion
The Watch…
To discover where Creativity and Beauty
Flee — when necessary —
For shelter from poor intentions or injury,
To be shielded and camouflaged — hidden.
We’ll discern clues to follow their flights —
Like hints seen in patterns of wing-prints
left across the sky…
By looking closely —
Listening…We’ll scan
Seas and mountainsides — where
owls hoot, scaring frogs to dive
away from danger into rippling waters…
As we wait to catch sight of the places
Where Creativity and Beauty disappear,
We languish, needing their inspiration near.
We filled the winds calling out chapters
of book of Genesis verses,
But nothing stirring returned.
We tired in our waiting as
All of life came to feel inert,
Except for Time, which kept melting
Empty hours into lost days.
Blessedly, we did catch onto Dreams again
While nodding off often
During our watching…And with them, visions
Rose anew with eager energy and passion
To write, teach, compose, paint, parent,
And reverently love
What we have and know
That neither evades nor flees ~
While Creativity and Beauty still tower
Where they always have been:
Awaiting us within
The hush and hold of Divine Grace…
—————————————————————————
art & poetry (c) sally young eslinger 10/23-29/2023
Thanks be to God—
I have grown old and twisted with all my living;
my limbs gnarled and arthritic,
my skin rough, sometimes peeling,
turning dark beneath the sun.
Bunions and corns decorate my feet.
What a life I have lived!
In my youth, young natives sat on tender grasses at my feet;
i sheltered them in coolness,
i listened to their vows of love.
Months later, they returned to me holding the joy of new life.
I rocked their papoose in my arms,
the wind sighing lullabies through my evergreen hair
making the silver moss, hanging on my tresses, sway.
I saw them leave before the growing strength of new settlers,
weeping as they walked away from this beloved land.
A wealthy man settled the grounds where I spread my roots;
I grew and wrapped my arms around the home he built.
I was young then, strong and full of vigor;
I was the watchman at the door.
I enjoyed many years with the family,
playing with the children,
giving shade and shelter.
Early one morning, the sounds of war disturbed my sleep;
all day the battle raged.
Cannon balls ripped through my flesh;
I heard the anguished screams.
When the sun set,
the ground beneath my feet was littered
with the broken bodies of men,
dead and dying,
soldiers uniformed in both blue and gray.
Our beautiful home was nearly destroyed,
our land ravaged.
If men could only learn, as I know,
to respect and care for one another.
As time passed, my limbs healed,
through scarred, just as my heart is scarred.
Generations have come and gone,
each one passing close to my heart in fleeting succession,
but I live on.
Age shows on my body, yet I cling more tightly,
stretching deep into the ground, sucking the earth's sweet nourishment.
My arms droop low, hanging heavy with sad and happy memories.
I do not want to leave this dear, fair earth,
the tears of heaven fall,
trickling down,
bathing me in dewy sadness.
A thousand years is not enough.
Copyright, August 22, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
“ Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91:1,NIV
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I Trust Him, He will lead my way
I Love Him, He will not fail
I Know Him, He will keep me safe
I Praise Him, I feel peace within
In weakness, I ask for strength
In despair, I ask for hope
In pain, I ask for relief
In fear, I ask for His presence
I focus on Him, when in doubt
I wait on Him, for guidance
I surrender wishes to His will
I have faith on Him, I believe
Through His kindness, I see
Through His grace, I breathe
Through His glory, I feel
In His holy shadow, I live
(Eileen)
Your heavy heart is weary, worn
Bloody and bruised, it’s fiercely torn
To Loneliness, a vow you've sworn
To dwell in night without a morn
Come inside
To live and love, you've lost your will
Of sorrow’s cup you've had your fill
Desire’s longing, quiet…still
Heart frozen by rejection’s chill
Come inside
Chorus
Come inside my life, feel now the fire
Come inside my heart, dip in desire
Come inside my soul, to love aspire
Come inside my mind, let me inspire
(Richard)
Let love’s essence, flow through your veins
Experience true peace again
Live in a world devoid of pain
Find shelter from the pouring rain
Come inside
To live and love, you'll know the thrill
Of blissful cup, you'll drink your fill
Desire quenched, within my will
In the calm, let your heart be still
Come inside
(Eileen)
Chorus
Come inside my life, feel now the fire
Come inside my heart, dip in desire
Come inside my soul, to love aspire
Come inside my mind, let me inspire
Refrain
Come
Come
Come inside my body, come inside
Come and dip inside my pleasure’s tide
Come inside my body, come inside
Come glide into heaven, come abide
Come
Come
Come…..I N S I D E
Eileen Manassian Ghali with last two stanzas added by Richard Lamoureux. :) :) :) Thanks, Richard, for thinking it could be lengthier and adding your own personal touch. Love collabing with you. :)
Banshee
The sky is empty, apart from a crescent moon, all is black.
Another night, a single star was my only light to show me the way.
No why, just do; a chance we must never take back,
Or we will break apart all that which we want, while we wait.
For we are singular in our shared goals.
One soul, then two souls, then one soul once more.
In a mind so empty of love, I hide inside a hole,
Not knowing that the last has come; the time of the fall.
In heart shaped tears we disappear
And all that remains is the corpse that I am.
Without the fear of loss, we would have nothing left to fear
And without those feelings, I would never give a damn.
Heartless or blessed with a need to find love?
A curse or a blessing?
A cure or a drug?
Time is definitive, decisions are not.
One path leads us forward,
The other path is a dead end where we must stop.
No shelter from the future of what could become us.
Destiny or fate? I have suffered too much.
Life is no box of chocolates,
It is alcohol.
We take life by the hand so happily,
While time only ever ends for us…so what do we know?
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
Poor Ruby Hummer looks confused,
searching for her favorite feeder.
It was right there when it last was used,
in September, in the cedar.
Above the Bee-balm and Lobelia,
in my pollinator garden,
so sorry, Ruby, yes I feel ya,
and I truly beg your pardon.
I’m late this May, you came so soon
from your Yucatan vacation.
2000 miles from your lagoon,
a miraculous migration.
500 miles without a stop
o’er the Gulf, you must be famished.
A marvel that you didn’t drop,
and now your feeder’s vanished!
Just last week we had some snow,
a freakish mid-May specter.
Please be patient, please don’t go,
I’ll brew you up some nectar.
Meanwhile, check the Columbines
while I go and fetch the feeder.
And don’t forget your Trumpet Vines
that wind behind the cedar.
Come grace my garden, cheer my heart,
you’re my favorite garden guest.
It’s time to fatten up and start
to build the family nest.
Here nest materials, soft and pliable,
give shelter from the storms.
Next Spring I will be more reliable,
I’ll institute reforms.
June 2020
Garden Contest sponsored by Constance La France
He slept in his car
in a park not to far
from where he lived
homeless, no food
making a way the best he knew
attended college
a degree or two
nevertheless lost everything
went down the fast hill
until one-day
he was handed a bag
he reached inside and laughed
food for the soul
oh no, it was a lot of money
wrapped in some foil
the person had left
as he hollered out
thank you, thank you
with a loud shout
as he stayed in this place
all elated, wide awaken
he invested in some land
helped other homeless
and did all that he can
he stands up tall
he shopped at the mall
a good meal, a great bed
as he laid his head
he purchased this home
and a nice car too
as he praised God
and cried out repeatedly
now he is this billionaire
as he is prosperous
he opened up a homeless shelter
for all homeless to stay in
now, he lives life
once again, he continues to pray
remembering those hard times
from day today
now he sleeps peacefully
plenty of meals to choose
working out at the gym
he has a great business
manages, and hires the homeless too
all of the co-workers
receives a bonus each year
from homeless to a billionaire
he supports and really cares
in his previous life before he became homeless
he was selfish and mean
to all of his family and his teams
now he is humble
realizes what he's become
that was not a dream
as he replied
now the old life was placed aside
from homeless to a billionaire.