Long Shone Poems
Long Shone Poems. Below are the most popular long Shone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shone poems by poem length and keyword.
And this picture on the wall of my heart told a story of men giving birth among themselves in the north promiscuously...
Sipping memories from the lungs of the girl child.
They were not ashamed of the little ones watching their nakedness which howled at them mannerlessly.
We bathed the oceans again and again,
We made the sand shone like the moon,
We washed the sky daily to see clearly of what the earth has in stock for us.
We painted the earth and added more colours to the chirping rainbow.
Life became wet in our palms because we saw images and figurines of women whose shinning womb were made abnormal by men of yesterday.
And mother told of an innocent girl that killed her father, mother and brothers,
She was patted by the king for doing so,
As she told this ear breaking tale,
we saw the rain emerged from the ground instead of the lonely idle cloud that watched us through different mirrors.
They said we'll live forever on paradise,
They said there is heaven and hell,
They said evil people will be punished on the last day,
They said we will burn for thousand years,
But how could a father punish his children with fire and brimstone?
How could spirit burn in a fire?
How could we tell lie to ourselves and expect the sun not against us?
We have seen cock making love to a duck and, dog to a cat, and grandma told us it was normal.
And Father told of the miseries of the black spirit in our village streams,
How pouring of libation on the family shrine brings good wife and good harvest,
how rubbing oil and wearing palmfrond on your lips wad away demons.
he said there is a third heaven above us,
He told us why the He goat smells,
He said white ghosts do fly day time; he has seen the flashes of one of them at Benin.
After Christopher, I creed,
After Achebe I loved again
After Seghor
After Wole and Niyi' folklores,
After Habila Helon,
After Chimamanda's truths,
We'll retrace this fables with a knitted thought towards strings of our voices.
How does the patient dog eat the fattest bone now?
Does the silent cock still live for a lifetime?
Mother lied to us
Father lied to us
Grandma lied to us
Grandpa lied also
A mirage formed
Teachers lied to us
An illusion created
We are not who we are through those illusion told to us through their lips.
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent.
In this time the cloth is unwoven, the threads laid bare.
Most of the dung removed, cleared, given no fare.
Massive steel plates hold back the uninvited from boarding the train.
Going and coming returning from far, how special the precious Saved Ones are!
Not as many by count, as expected to be, go only the accepted glorified in He.
The One by name Jesus Christ is He, by birth our Savior, God’s only Son.
The rapture has started transformation begun!
“Multitudes Missing” is what is said both of the living and of the dead.
Glory shone at the uniting above as Jesus ascended taking the Throne.
Angels and Saints at the table were there, celebrating the beginning
As promised by some, in the Book it is written the time has come.
To those uninvited still sinning below Tribulation unending they endure
Because death is not given for the unforgiven there is no cure.
Now that The Holy Spirit is gone replaced by the unholy one.
Three and one half years his reign will be before his anointment as
King of the land, then after another one half and three
From his throne he gathers his forces to make his stand.
In Jerusalem, after the Temple’s complete, is the place Armageddon has come.
Many the forces pressing the land foul and dirty sinners are they.
Angels from above sweet music they play, as their swords slash, many they slay.
The rest are all gathered sorted like sheep the wicked on the left and thrown into the deep
Where welcomed by him unholy for sure cured not forever burning in hell.
Be it certain, known for sure, Jesus has returned all hail the King.
For a thousand years he will reign all living forever no sickness or pain.
He is my God the only pure one born of a mortal, Spirit raised, God’s Son.
On the cross our sin debt He paid glory forever so easily gained
Not by good works impossible to do only in accepting as Savior, our Lord, King.
In living and doing such a small little thing why do so many risk certain despair?
Is it that we tangled in our lives, mundane as they are, have little care
For those less willing the truth to be know spread the message they must be shown!
Think now of forever the price they bear become an ambassador in Jesus’ name!
Hot is the pit with its flame burning bright engulfing a loved one what a terrible sight.
The time is at hand the cloth becoming bare; Jesus is the answer show you dare.
I was a classic 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air, in mint condition, admiral and white.
My owner had other beautiful, classic cars, like stars sparkling into twilight.
My owner loved his old cars, saying 'they don't make them like they used to;'
And I enjoyed getting out upon the open road, to show him what I could do.
My fellow cars and I saw lots of sunny days, in bliss freedom of the flowers,
Traveling the length and breadth of this land, in the clasp of jeweled hours.
Flighty friends and I recalled 'good old days,' in rosy sunset times of finally,
Laughing and talking our memories in darkness, as moon shone, indefinably.
Forever friends were like feeling family, in the floral days of fuchsia's reign;
When flitting, green butterflies fanned for long, and falcons flew like a train.
I lived in the house of pleasant shadows, which didn't have many windows;
For it was one huge room without a view, like a path without the primrose.
Sparkling summer sauntered in silently, creating such scenes on my street!
Silken clouds roamed, when Sam ran his errands. Traveling was ever a treat.
Neighbors made admiring noises about me, going off on rides in neon night.
We cars were the toast of the neighborhood, nice nostalgia, in a golden light!
Clown orchids had ceased performing, in gone days of purple, beard orchids.
Now their summer relative had the holy ghost, like bliss from many sources.
Mask flowers held beautiful mystery, in alluring hues of pink, cream and red;
Like sweet secrets of moonlit shadows, and violet dreams after going to bed.
Once, Sam and I were cruising Sunset Highway, for it was my turn that day;
While dear friends waited in the cool, quiet of home, for their chance to play.
I felt a sudden impact on my left, and I knew I was hurt! There was damage;
But if not for Sam's expert driving, we might not have been able to manage!
This had happened to me times before. Such is to be expected in a long life.
As ever, friend Sam was my Superman, my mechanic in times of cruel strife.
My convalescence didn't seem so long, as I laughed about old days with pals.
When streets were not very busy, and many listened to front porch musicales.
For we were darling, daring trailblazers, quaint old paving way for all modern,
Leaving lingering feelings of fond nostalgia, like lovely fall leaves which yearn!
“10And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. 11It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal. 12It had a great, high wall with twelve gates, and with twelve angels at the gates. On the gates were written the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. 16The city was laid out like a square, as long as it was wide. He measured the city with the rod and found it to be 12,000 stadia in length, and as wide and high as it is long. 17He measured its wall and it was 144 cubits thick, by man's measurement, which the angel was using. 18The wall was made of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as pure as glass. 19The foundations of the city walls were decorated with every kind of precious stone. The first foundation was jasper, the second sapphire, the third chalcedony, the fourth emerald, 20the fifth sardonyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, and the twelfth amethyst.21The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate made of a single pearl. The great street of the city was of pure gold, like transparent glass. 27Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life.” Rev 21:10-12;16-21; 27
There’s a place for us
In heaven’s glory land above
Mansions of mercy
Golden streets paved with love
Living waters sweet
Fruits grown for our healing
The pathway’s narrow
Requires God’s special sealing
There’s a place for us
Made of diamonds and emeralds
Japser, sapphires; every precious stone
Twelve gates of large pearls
No pain or heartache
Just joy and peace reign
Our loving Saviour is King
His kingdom forever will sustain
There’s a place for us
God planned long, long ago
A palatial,‘holy city’
With a sparkling river that flows
We are His children
Heirs to His throne
Each one will receive
His own rightful crown
There’s a place for us
It’s not just a dream
Revelation describes it
Enlightened with God’s glory beams
I plan to be there—
By His sweet mercy and grace
I want to meet you there too
With our Lord face to face.
2008-2012 Copyright Maureen LeFanue
Ben and Cora Green had seven children, like calendar pages turning;
Each one born on a different weekday, like mango sun, forever burning.
Zoe was pretty, with big eyes and dimples, while Leah loved dancing,
Yet, Bill was sort of a pessimist; like when mystic trouble is glancing.
Edward had a zeal for jogging, while Ruth ran many errands for free.
James always had a part time job. Pete was all sunshine, very happy.
Fun barbecues attracted friends, to lawns of families and red flowers;
When fluff, sleepy clouds wandered, during deep green, golden hours.
Hues of fall leaves were fawning, when flying on crisp air, like family;
Visiting the days of fuming flora, of cool chrysanthemums, so pretty!
The Greens lived in a house of calendars, as mystic prisms flash color;
The life sundered into separate hues, like in gardens of blissful wonder.
Saffron sun shone on their street, as they smiled at people they'd meet;
When silver willows whispered surrender, to warm breezes, of no retreat.
Neighbors were a part of noon memoirs. Shadows were national heroes,
In ruddy times of heat and desperation! In the heyday of burgundy rose.
'Lady Leigh' irises sizzled in red, with the fruity beauty of 'pineapple lily,'
While insects snacked on 'goldfish' plants, beneath pink clouds, so frilly!
'Starfish' flowers had big highs and lows, in strawberry days of summer;
While 'Peruvian apple' cacti bloomed, on a single, dark night of slumber.
The Green children conveyed nostalgia for joyful childhood, into old age;
As colorful fall remembers summer just left, so flower strewn and sage!
Zoe grew up to be a model, while Leah became a famous ballet dancer.
Bill became a happier TV weatherman, for after rain, sun is the answer!
Edward later ran in marathons, and Ruth founded a charity organization.
James worked hard for conservation, as Pete, a clown, toured the nation.
Like the smiles that charm each seven day week, as a teal world waltzes;
Or like satiny peace of pearl moon charm, when the purple world pauses!
'Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
And the child who is born on the Sabbath Day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.'
A new dawn,
Unveiled hopes and surreal ecstatic.
The smiles on their faces,
Heralded news,
The folks were delighted.
It was worth every ounce of struggle.
Though, a dilemma.
Afraid of separation.
Yet, desperate to experience the journey.
The ambience compelled me.
I was finally seen off,
I was on a voyage to satisfy nature's balance.
Now I learned the way of flying.
They had fed me once, now the tables had turned.
The man I was had been called a coward.
They celebrated my bravery now.
Decorated badges shone and made them proud.
I lost one and two things to earn it.
Was it really worth it?
The grasp of my anxiety grew.
On a bright sunny day,
I was summoned by a great war.
The fallen heroes' cries haunted me,
They never let me close my eyes.
Though I dodged death,
My mates did not.
When consciousness returned.
A stream of blood filled my sight.
Decapitated bodies, blasted arms,
Eyes bulging out of their sockets,
The fallen were the luckiest.
One who lived was burning in hell.
Men begged me to put an end to their agony.
Our eyes shed blood,
Tears dried out.
I wished to shoot my brains out too.
The nefarious haunted site was too much to bear.
"I couldn't" I cried ....
A bullet shell dropped beside me.
I had killed my own man, or had I helped him?
His heart wide opened, and my shank.
My shin mangled, my eardrums burst.
"Medic! Medic! Medic!"
A few men rushed and took me away.
I only saw them talking but heard no word.
Certainly they would cut it.
The pain fainted me right away.
A chunk of metal cost me a leg.
What would a hurt man do?
Run away to his folks.
So did I.
The smile on their faces now faded.
They hardly talked about their dream again.
Blames encompassed a loop.
Still celebrated as a hero.
The shell-shock and vivid imagery of the war,
Ran through my mind every now and then.
I never slept again.
Trapped inside a war I had never waged.
It had now changed my periphery of life.
I despised it.
The fallen were the luckiest.
I couldn't even stand on my own.
I barely opened my mouth, only to be fed.
There it hangs, my greatest achievement,
So the folks claimed.
Why did I live in guilt then?
Was it to hide my sins,
Or to make me feel proud?
The barrage of questions and bullets,
Never left my conscience.
I may have quit the war,
It still ran inside my head.
GHOST MIRRORS
Ghostly images captured within the prism of reflected light,
Ethereal waves rippling against reality’s framed surface
Of the translucent, as phantom hands press, slamming at
The fragile glass of dualities deadened zone of existence!
A sudden shimmering, in the beguiling mirror of illusions,
As in the icy eerie chill of this frozen man made pool of
Optical delusions, something within shifted and moved!
Disembodiment's outcasts to incisions resistance, cut at
The bitter edge of the graves stone marker, are these
Silhouette shadow beings, trapped within clarities maze
Of solid crystal!
Black sheets haunted, hidden behind the spiritual mirrors
Of religion, encasement's prison of soulless mists, a vaporous
Cage without iron bars, nor steels reinforcement, these are
The lost or damnation's cursed unto the light of salvation!
What skeletal keys can unlock these dimensional doorway,
And just where is the keyhole to fit, this illusionary anomaly?
At the shutters sudden flash, in ethereal creature slides
Across the screen of realities review mirror, a dark
Hauntings presence that alluding the neck eyes detection!
A dead man’s situation lies exposed, by the elemental
Reflection of lights retraction, hidden beneath the graveyards
Bones of the unsolved murder!
Within the winds of the whistling breeze, hear the unruffled
Cries of fates lost children, crying out for justices guiding
Light to save them, from the disembodied hands of their
Tormentors!
Running children of the ethereal night, whom rage in
Vengeance, against the glass prism of shattered light,
Weeping in devastation's despair, for their loss of life eternal!
At the flashing neon point of no return, the devils forsaken
Sake at the tempered glass of realism, clamoring to be
Recognized for once existing!
Within the four squared frame of reality, dwells the
Infinite pool of the ethereal realm, and in its rippling
Waves, phantom faces are shone in the tormented poises
Of the after life’s jail cell, without the possibility of
Paroles final tender mercy!
Ghostly images captured within the prism of reflected light,
Ethereal waves rippling against reality’s framed surface
Of the translucent, as phantom hands press, slamming at
The fragile glass of dualities deadened zone of existence!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
BEWARE THE MONTH OF HALLOWEEN IS COMING
“The only light from a sword have sheltered me from despair
The balance of reality and dreams, welcomes nothing to compare
Dreams were afterall the insanity of one’s desire
Made to believe moments before the awakening hour
This belongs the true origin since the fall of the humans
The curse brought from our love to cause The Ancients total domination
Moments since loved, to love to then unlove
I give to you only truth afar from lies to serve”
{Years of yore, a time somewhence atween the Holy War
A prophecy is soon to begin its outcry once more
Humanities who were forged to serve the Battalion Goddess were dying away
Prayers in blood were dis-spirited souls praying to live another day
Yet despairs to the Heavens never seem to be heard
Where forth the Battalion Goddess, where is the Goddess of Word?
The Goddess who mortals seek hope in, bears one in many prophecies
The one to lead till the end of war, to rid the Ancients of miseries
However, the DarkLord Alkzadrius, only grew ever stronger each dusk
Every other night to those who live, only promises to be last
There was then this one night, in the ruins throughout The Ancients
A brightest of light shone from a seemingly farthest of distance
Two figures emerge from beyond, one a woman and another a man
And the very might of the moment itself, have had evil dissolving into the sands
Every other minions who came in their way were vanquish
Even spells and curses cast upon the terrain had discreetly vanish
Sensing victory for the night, mortals around raise their swords and fought
Yet the battle were already won at hearts without so much a thought!
It was raining a subtle when dawn finally arrive
That day, every mortal to witness the birth had survive
Humanities rejoice in triumph to the Champions of the lands
Peace being the one hope for all time, was only just a matter of when
The prophecy remains to be true… prayers were heard
Evermore so, mortals reunited to serve once more the Goddess of Word
Every battle were won, wherever the Champions of the Word were to walk
In time, they were feared by most every minions of the Darklord
Alkaiya, the name enchanted by the people for the mistress of War
Being the one who beholds the Bow of the Word hence fore
And the Knight of the Word who has without a bearing name
Who wield the Sword of Sin where evil is nay to remain}
. *
*
*
I
am
the
star
that
shone
brightly
in the East
that night
so long ago
A heavenly light
that guided wise men
to the place where He lie
In a manger on a blanket of hay
****Christ -Immanuel - a radiant child - a gift from God****
His only son who died on a cross
for teaching us to love and
help one another
for this is
the only
way
there
Will
ever
be
peace
on
Earth
*
*
*
An eight-pointed star
Shone in the night in summer
He came from above
Not belonging to the stars
Stranger to them all
Is above the zodiac
Plundering its fate
He is from the pure greatness
A door to the heavens
Sophia prepared the flesh
For she had regret
Sabaoth sent his great light
For he was wrathful
Barbelo sent her power
For she had wisdom
Jesus the man sent himself
For he had mercy
He was laid in a manger
No room in the inn
The world hated him so much
For it was darkness
And he blinded it with light
News reached the dead king
His hair was a lion’s mare
His body a snake
His eyes were bright lightning bolts
Ruler of darkness
His mother rejected him
As a bad disgrace
He summoned all the magi
The wise foreigners
Followers of the fire
To find this small child
As the Magi were dispatched
He thought to himself
“What is the power of him
Who was born this night
Who is higher than we are?
A drop from heaven?
Whom dragons brought to a cave?
Where a child was born?”
Those magi sailed the bright sand
Ignoring the cold
The star became a lighthouse
Which led to the child
And to shepherds in pure white
They gave three blessed gifts
Gold and frankincense and myrrh
As the king waited
In silence and solitude
He realized something
Filled with jealousy and wrath
He ordered his slaves
“Extinguish this divine light
Do what is needed!”
An angel from the great star
Told the glad Joseph
“Flee to the land of Egypt
With your wife and son
To escape the flood of death
To escape the plague
The hot fire and sulphur
That killed the mature
And now will murder the young”
And so the parents
Carrying the eternal
Fled to the bare land
All the little were murdered
Rivers of blood flowed
Loud cries of pain and mourning
Flowed out their mouths
With the king in vain glory
Saying “I am God
There is no other but me!”
The sands of time fell
And so, Mary and Joseph
Returned with Jesus
The baby pronounced three words
Whom none can utter
Lest they be killed by cold stones
With knowledge we say
“Out of a pure foreign air
The light bringer came
Those ones he chose for himself
He turned them to stars
To shine in the pleroma
The kingdom of light
Which the only door to it
Being the eight-pointed star.”