Long Shout Poems
Long Shout Poems. Below are the most popular long Shout by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shout poems by poem length and keyword.
My worst fear occurred and I did slip and clamber,
With people watching my statements of thunder,
But I did shout my attributions of collectivity grand,
Until they understood not to tremor my shaky hand.
It was not thought to be bad, hurtful or piercingly sharp,
Rather it was analogous with a soft melodious harp,
So it took me all my intelligent mind and heart eager,
To reduce their mutterings down to that of a wager.
No longer were they disgusted at my renouncing distance,
Nor did they stage a joust in bold, contentious resistance,
But they asked about my qualifications and experience,
That my spirit did swell in cultures kind convergence.
20/6/2016
God is our Comforter, securing our redemption
Indeed upholding us while transforming us toward new creation
Constantly guarding our souls by His protection so mighty
So we can comfort the hopeless while sharing salvation security.
God is our Comforter, filling us with His mercy
Indeed answering us in our prayer-fervency
Constantly calming our hearts by His peace-seal
So we can comfort the struggling ones toward trust’s zeal.
God is our Comforter, pouring to us His grace
Indeed strengthening us through His straightening brace
Constantly arming our faith by His truth against lies’ shout
So we can comfort the afflicted with His promises of no doubt.
God is our Comforter, serving as our light
Indeed guiding us to do what is right
Constantly meeting our needs by His provision
So we can comfort the needy, showing true compassion.
God is our Comforter, rebuking our idleness
Indeed leading us toward usefulness
Constantly rebuking our selfishness that is vain
So we can comfort the discouraged, not for vested interest’s gain.
God is our Comforter, honouring our commitment
Indeed enabling us for ministerial church involvement
Constantly empowering our grateful and jubilant worship
So we can comfort the weary that they continue in their stewardship.
God is our Comforter*, bringing to us revival
Indeed ushering us to His altar for spiritual upheaval
Constantly inspiring our devotion with His love victoriously
So we can comfort the brethren through our obedience earnestly.
*John 14:26 But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.
March 7, 2021
Is Seeing Believing?
Written: by Miracle Man
7/17/2017
Those things I know, to these, I readily attest,
And thought repetition hasn’t made them so.
Sometimes others may ponder if true or guessed,
While internally, The Holy Spirit has let me know.
The Devil may suggest it’s what you think you saw,
Trying upon reflection, to plant the seed of doubt.;
Suddenly from some listener, emerges a big guffaw,
Leaving me leaky eyed and with a silent shout;
I recount daily the Miracle that God has done
During Sudden Cardiac Arrest; in telling others
Sometimes they come up with some rational reason for it happening.
God is good & I’m blessed.
Tom
Wen I was jest a litl boy
An a pensil was mi toy
I likd to rit poms
An did mi best … homs
As a teenager
I began to revolt
I got an attitude
To the man I was rude
My writing was crude
I experimented
Adults were demented
I took a position
Refused to listen
This poetic young buck
Didn’t give a flying …
As a young adult, spreading my poetic wings,
I wanted to be free;
Free of inhibitions -
Free of rules and regulations –
Impress with my prodigious vocabulary
Attack sex, love, morals and politics on scented sheets
I had an urge to explore the fascinating new and majestic universe
And my poems were free to be as free as me
As I matured and mellowed out
No longer harboring the need to shout
My poems once again found their rhyme
And I returned back to a younger time
Full circle, I find my journey spent
Every step of the way being heaven sent
THE HUNGER WITHIN
Deep within I feel this hunger
So eat, I must, and then no longer
Crave for food but grow much stronger
Make this hunger ease.
But the pangs; the pain, it lingers
Although I feast and lick my fingers
Food from all the kindly bringers
Won’t stop this hunger tease!
What to do I now must wonder
All the pantries I shall plunder
And if it be I make a blunder
Will this hunger cease?
[ O’ Cupid, ‘Help!’, you Love Factotum
Shout “ahoy, Nil Desperandum
You’ll starve no more, ad infinitum”
Quell this hunger, please! ]
True it be I have no lover
Just one I want, I want no other
If food be this there’s none above her
My hunger to appease!
(The Fg 81.5.8)
I'm heading down that long tiresome road
Have a six string I never have to reload.
Blazing my way before my star burns out
And yes I may hold you near
Don't ask me to hold you dear
But I'll sure take another beer
Making my six string shout
Sometimes making it cry
Be rocking till I die
Just don't ask me why
Somewhere someone may dream of me
Even though with them I may never be
Memories, of the towns I have left behind.
Echoes of regret never let enter my mind
Love ain't that easily defined
Thousands of screaming people still hear them in my head.
I will be rocking them till long after I'm dead
One town is the same as another
Still call people I don't know my brother.
Sometimes while making my guitar scream
The smile ain't as easy at it may seem
Where will I lay my head tonight.
And Who's lover am I going have to fight
Rocking along the highway
Life sometimes leaves me with nothing to say
Some sexy momma just wants me for a day
And for a hot blooded country boy like me
Everything looked ok as far as I could see
Just couldn't let that be.
Feeling the city heat.
Smiling at all those I meet
Standing there in front of that crowd
Made sure my six string was good and loud
Left them people wanting more
But I'd done left the floor
And then I'm on that tiresome road once again
And I can't remember all them towns I've been
But someday maybe
You can be my baby
I can tell you now, tomorrow I'll b on that tiresome highway
And you won't be going my way
Getting it while the getting is good
Just so it's understood
I hear that highway a calling me
And that's the way it is always going to be
Playing my six string till my star crashes and burns
Living off whatever I may earn
Playing that damn thing till I die.
Don't bother asking me why
The lonesome highway may be long
But at the end I'll be singing you my song
Six string always loud
My heads up in a cloud
Tell me whoever tries to takes my place
Their going to have to bow out in disgrace
Cause no one can make one sound like me
No one you'll ever see
This six string in my hand
Playing lead in my own band
Cause
Even after I'm dead
Them six stings, will still be playing in my head
At the foot of the mountain lies a wide verdant plain
With rich flowing breasts tend its enchanting brethren
A cuddly care that nature does, in collaboration with men
Catered to those gallant souls, nurturing the best it can
Every morning, when sunshine unfolds its resounding grace
Charming horses in auspicious race, dock their tails, all in graze
Glorious creatures they are when viewed near and afar
Precious stone-like muzzles adorned, each shines like ritzy car
Glossy fur is prominent, from withers, poll to forelock crane
The sophisticated look they have while galloping in any range
When the sun grows brighter in the middle of the day
Cowboys with their hats and chaps shout, hurray!
They run to check their rides before they saddle with glee
Patting stifle, gaskin, hock down to fetlock ‘though they’re jerky
Thorough inspection of hoof, coronet and frog they do and peek
And see if shoes are fixed, they’re good luck charms, shown in kicks
Stallions or mares, palomino, topaz… horses in any color and kind
Riding like a roller-coaster on their withers to their croup is so fine!
How I wish I can go with those cowboys in their pony-trekking
I want to be their horsewoman as they’ll be all my prince charming.
Oct. 17, 2016 1.40pm
Copyright2016Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Ninth Place
Contest: Horses
Judged: 10/30/2016
Sponsor: Poet Shadow Hamilton
Surrounded by snakes,
Makes me feel disgraced
As the words of iniquity pour out of their mouths
It makes me want rage and shout
For they know the things i have told them,
And yet they take it serious not
So in silence i shall abandon them
For they make my blood boil deep and hot
Men adorned in more jewelry and embellishment
Than most women
They mock their very nature ....
A trend for the ending
So alone i keep my eyes open and my tongue keen
For they are the ones stuck in the in between
My days there will pass like dust
And soon there childish voices will hush
Yes it's true, ive had enough
The Dark Destroyer
Part I
The void arrives
Sucks you in and down
Into the nothingness
Only darkness breathes
Life out of focus
It seems all is lost
Panic stricken, then
Realisation hits
Aware that it’s here
The Dark Destroyer!
The void door closes
No strength to fight
You succumb, averse
No one understands
It’s a lonely battle
Inside your own head
Trapped, Defeated
Part II
Defeated – not dead!
Many a battle
Still to overcome
Take action, right now!
Shout loud, ‘they’ will hear
The void door re-opens
Join forces, unite
With ‘they’ who can help
‘They’ will stand by you
Guide you, comfort you
Give positive light.
It’s a classic duel
Of light verses dark
Who wins in the end?
It’s you who decides!
(The Torre Vela is a prominent castle tower
at the "prow" of the Alhambra Palace, and
dominates the Spanish city of Granada.)
My lame-ass lips can't even draw
McDonalds milkshake through a straw:
and if I must
run for the bus,
I take an oxygen inhaler.
You like your house? I rent a trailer.
But yell it through the loudest-hailer:
I kissed Leila!
Some lucky guy looks like George Clooney,
while I resemble Mickey Rooney.
I'm such a shmuck,
if vampires suck,
then call me Vlad the (Bad) Impaler!
I guard my dough? Like a drunken sailor.
But study this at Yale, or Baylor:
I kissed Leila!
I'll never win that Golden Globe
for lounging in a silken robe
like Errol Flynn,
appearing in
a bedroom scene with young Liz Taylor:
my books won't sell like Norman Mailer:
my jokes are rustier and staler
than ol' Jed Clampett's cotton baler:
I'm a no-mark, lamester, loser, failer.
But shout it from the Torre Vela:
I kissed Leila!