Long Simply Poems
Long Simply Poems. Below are the most popular long Simply by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Simply poems by poem length and keyword.
Why am I convincing myself I prefer to be alone?
Why have I convinced myself I do not want to feel?
What answers I seem to give myself.
It holds no credence to my sub-consciousness.
Making myself believe all those silly little lies I tell my spirit.
The thought of forever being alone my heart cries out with the pain.
Yet my mind cries out at the thought of a forever love.
The heart it has never truly known what love is, only took dips to what it can do.
Is it the fear of losing me?
Is it the fear of simply just not knowing?
I have falsely heard those words with my own ears.
I have falsely said those words with my own lips.
Never imagining precisely what it represents.
I cannot promise my heart something I may not be able to deliver.
Why then should I give my spirit hope that it exists.
Instead I keep the key hidden so deep.
Lose its place.
Even I do not know where it lays in dormant.
There needs to be a power stronger then me.
To override my thoughts.
Causing my mentality to spark.
A strong willed Knight who can win my challenging fight.
To release my secrets, find the key.
Erase the thoughts that now are entertaining my brain.
To open my heart.
My soul.
My body.
My mind.
To help me discover.
What it all genuinely means.
Form:
...McClors rode up, and smiled quite thin,
He said,”Woman, get away from him!
You come with me now, and it will suffice.
You play more of these games, and you’ll get the knife.”
“See I’m in no mood for dumb girlish stunts—”
A blast roared out, and McClors gave a grunt.
From the back of his horse the villain did flop,
His chest torn apart from a load of buckshot.
Adam he turned while all sat there stunned,
And found the three lackies with his scatter-gun.
The horses they stomped, the lackies they blustered
Stupidly bunched in one great, big cluster.
The other barrel it was already cocked,
And Adams laid waste to the thugs with one shot!
Two died right quick, and the third man moaned,
Trapped underneath his dead mangled roan.
Adams stalked up, stared down at the man,
He said,”Listen up now, or forever be damned.
It seems strange to say it, amdist this strife,
But I’ve decided to make this woman will my wife.”
“So I’ll let you live, and run back to the town,
And tell all the people the way things are now.
This woman right here none shall disrespect,
And if I see you back here, I’ll stretch your damn neck!”
The lackie he stumbled and faltered away
Miriam had no words, nothing she could say.
Adam nodded. “I’d accept your offer,
But I think there’s a better one that I can proffer.”
“If you don’t mind a killer for a husband,
Than you and I will go to Reverend Dan,
Cause I still have a few good kith and good kin
Who wouldn’t approve of us living in sin.”
And so they went down, and so they were wed
And raced to his home, barely making it to the bed.
The mayor later stopped by, still half-rattled with fear,
And said “ ’twas all self-defense! It’s perfectly clear.”
Now Kline he lucked out with his newfound bride,
She gave him seven kids, their joy and their pride.
And as they years went by, their pasts they did fade,
Both found some peace in the life they had made.
Though still some townsfolk whispered of her,
But said nothing aloud to avoid Adam’s anger.
From that day at the ranch, till death came in time
She was known simply as: Misses Miriam Kline.
...I saw a person who blathered,
said, ‘I’m beyond morality,
good and evil are simply lies,
more people should be just like me.’
He passed it off as very smart,
and liked to quote Nietzsche a lot,
but when I saw how he behaved
it came off as a lot of rot.
The man never could give a dime,
said, ‘Leave that to the government.’
couldn’t stay faithful to a girl,
went wherever his hormones went.
Spent his time drinking or at play,
only worked enough to get by,
said, ‘Why would I think of family?
Don’t you know it’s just a big lie?’
So swept up in nihilism,
but from the outside it was clear,
he wasn’t smart or ‘beyond good,’
just mired in an endless fear.
As long as he blathered this stuff
then he didn’t have to feel bad,
didn’t have to look at his life,
or compare it to his rich dad,
Didn’t have to risk falling short,
or be the failure he feared he was,
his fancy words because his shield,
to make folks think he had ‘a cause.’
Honestly it was all BS,
his soul is every day more burned,
no one wants to call out his crap,
so from real life he still does turn.
One can do good despite the flaws,
can still stand up despite the scars,
would he try if he understood
we’re not perfect the way we are?
Is not the point in the trying?
Does not the hard work make us whole?
Real perfection may not exist,
but the concept gives us a goal.
A lighthouse by which we can steer,
a marker we can measure by,
to not keep pushing for that point
is to stagnate and slowly die.
Why should we allow our culture
to encourage this laziness,
when we tell people ‘don’t improve’
we condemn them to emptiness,
A life of knowing nothing great,
of achieving nothing sublime,
this self-esteem crap they all sell
in the end is cruel and malign.
It’s the effort that makes you great,
it’s the journey that takes you far,
to realize greatness you must know:
You’re not perfect the way you are.
Keep improving.
I go here, I go there
I can go anywhere
I talk to him, I talk to her
I am confident, that's for sure
I do this, I do that
I go where the adventure is at
I work hard, I work fast
I make big bucks, cold hard cash
I found someone, we settle down
We have some kids in a quiet town
We make some friends, we have good times
We have come to know life dahling as simply divine
The kids grow up then leave the home,
we find ourselves all alone
It's not like before, when in our youth
A little bit different, and done with more couth
One of us dies, who will be the first
No matter what, the others heart will burst
"I'll take it from here". we gently say
As we say goodbye at the end of that day.
Words cannot glow where thoughts can't tell,
Work fails to show for loss that spells.
Sense profound thought that cannot reap,
Empty vain slots that die with sleep.
Hurl then strange strands that bleed and dry,
A totem stands to usher cry.
In tribe and kin plain language gels,
No curse or sin can bid farewell.
Moments of urge can stir and surge,
Let joy emerge with sacred purge.
Greet the fond feel of wisdom deep,
Old hurts can heal with good night's sleep.
Beware of cares that choke and kill,
Dare be aware of cleansing fill.
Go on your way to live and learn,
Death simply says love outlives burns.
Leon Enriquez
31 October 2015
Singapore
She hides her pain
In the shadows, warring
Filled with hope, grace
Her heart will keep praising
Life gives her trouble
Compassion silences her
Worry and fear with kindness
She is weary and frail
Yet she prays for others
Gives from her treasure chest
Of love, hope and faith
She glorifies the Savior
She is simply amazing
Cancer invades her body
Giving her nothing but grief
Yet she gives out joy
With her life – her anointing
Her faith is her guide
She is wise and so alive
With colorful inspirations
She uses her imagination
To create a beautiful peace
For those who call on her
Those who know her as friend
Confidant – wife, mother,
Grandmother and so much more…
She lights up the world
With her prayers and praise
Her giving spirit – so genuine
So generous and uplifting
Like a rose, vibrant and rich
With colors sent from heaven
Abundant and graceful
Scented with joy, hues of laughter
A feeling so sweet it feels
Like someone breathed gentleness
Through the spirit, pouring
Love over the soul
And erasing all pain or discomfort
In her presence…
There is ever a feeling
Of pleasant reflection
Despite cancer – despite strife
She holds onto the beauty and light
The joy that brings so much charm
Feelings of wonder that linger on and on
Striking flames of amazement
Which guide the heart toward the brilliance
The dance of glorious delight
That penetrates the darkest night
With love that breaks through the black
Bringing miracles of the starry sight
Discovered when the moon’s humbling pearl
Destroys all fear of the unknown
And gives the Creator His applause
With a sincere smile shining down
Radiating serenity with a silent sound
That reverberates through the one
Who knows her – this lady who ignores
All the woe cancer holds for her
Instead giving back to this world
A deep sense of appreciation for His love
She is such a pleasure to know
And I only hope she remembers
Her dance with life is like a gift
To those who know her – care for her
Those who assuredly adore her!
This or That, Vol 8 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: A Cross To Bear
November 3, 2021
Younger days, were greener days
Silver memories on the shelf
Yesterdays, in many ways
So wrapped up with myself
Saturdays, were laughing days
When time was still in wealth
Every day, that passed my way
Slipped on by in stealth
Now these days, I hang and graze
No longer pull the plough
So eyes may gaze on coming days
Not yet thrown in the towel
All those days, left in a haze
Wont come back, no how
So I say, come what may
It doesn't matter now
Any day that I can stay
No need to wear a frown
Sunny days or rainy days
Just simply hang around
Lazing days, embracing ways
To lay my trophies down
When my days, all pass away
My poems are where I'll be found
March 15 2016
Daniel Turner
Broken Nights
When the war of their words would begin at dusk and fall,
I kept watch through the broken nights with eyes turned toward the sky,
Praying that the sun would rise in haste to answer my call,
To bring its light and warmth and a guilty comfort standing by.
The darkness would wrap around me and I would find myself searching for a sign,
Through the broken nights with my thoughts fixed on an unseen altar far,
Praying that the fighting would end and the dawn of change would shine,
That perhaps it would have been better if I had been just a shadow of a star.
Sometimes it was only one night of chaos passing through,
Other times it pressed down heavy as eternity itself upon my chest,
On the outside the mask of perfection remained flawless to the view,
But inside me a universe was collapsing without rest.
At every conflict subtle cracks would tear apart the silence of the room,
When compromise would come it felt like tasting heaven for a fleeting breath,
But when the dance of discord would begin again in the gloom,
I saw a painful hell reflected in their weeping eyes beneath.
Their voices were a storm of forbidden words that found their way to me,
Reaching me despite my desperate wish to hear nothing and be deaf,
And I felt that all of this unbearable weight so heavy,
Would have been easier to carry if I simply had not been left.
At every reconciliation my soul would take a lighter flight and soar,
And when the blizzard between two hearts renewed its rage and spite,
I watched a tableau so real and painful to the core,
Wondering if for them it would have been wiser to erase me from their sight.
I prayed to the traveling stars above the broken nights and tears,
To bring them joy and ease their old and aching wounds to rest,
To heal and let the heart vibrate more gently through the years,
And not to find in one another reasons to shatter what is best.
And I hoped that the broken nights from new pieces would weave their thread,
To become whole again and reclaim the quiet on the pillow of time,
That galaxies would be born from the warmth of a harmonious end instead,
In a world where battles melt into a gentle and forgiving twilight sublime.
Here in my suburban acre of Ohio;
I feel the generations,
the hungarians, the irish and germans,
the dutch, the blacks, the shawnee.
We are not a melting pot,
we are birds and critters brought here
by wild, wild winds.
I am a grackle
with my own grackle language,
I expect you who live in the same tree with me
have your own way
of making a home in this land.
Heartland is the root we share,
The root is lazy days in PJ’s.
Hectic mini-van school runs,
sweats for Walmart and yelling at stuff.
One dress tie for special occasions.
Most of us are not poor or rich,
Most of us about nothing much.
We don’t love our guns,
we simply keep them
in case those who don’t understand
want to mess with what we’ve earned.
My neighbor is a mourning dove,
Her son is a possum that loves to play
video games from dawn to dusk.
My pal is a rooster, a gnarly-handed poet,
don’t ask him to write anything
he might think those fighting words.
I like being a grackle, but I married an anhinga
from Florida.
She is adjusting.
In the garden, The Christ did pray
For strength ardent to bear pain's stay.
Gethsemane, the Master kneels
To ask to be with fond appeal.
His close aides lie in heavy sleep;
The Christ now cries in pain so deep.
The soldiers come to seize the king;
Judas now sums betrayal fling.
A kiss laid sound to tell on him;
Jesus is bound with scornful whim.
Then off they go to a mock trial;
Conspire to show with sure denial.
From high priest to Pontius Pilate;
An impromptu in vile charade.
Death sentence flawed in power play
As Roman law primes unjust stay.
Scourged to appease the crowd's frenzy;
The Christ was seized with mad cruelty.
Thirty lashes upon the flesh;
A mocking clash of bloodied mesh.
Crowned with thorns plucked from marine haunts;
Pierced mortal tucked with painful taunts.
Then the mocked king is forced to walk;
Heavy cross stings the burdened stalk.
The route is long with steps uphill;
The Christ bears strong with humble will.
Three times He falls, and feels the whip;
Cruel soldiers all who torments heap.
On and on He bears the wood cross
To death's alley, to sure recourse.
Along the way, The Christ meets those
Who did display the pains and ghost.
Golgotha's space, nails are driven,
The cross is raised in cruel action.
The Son of Man prays for mankind,
To save the damned that evil signs.
Two thousand years have come and gone;
The Christ did peer to times forgone.
Good Friday psalm to each and all,
We must not harm but heed love's call.
Love frames a law: "Who harms, must heal." --
Law without flaw, it's heaven's will.
The way ahead is beyond hate;
Let love break bread as grace now plates.
The Living Christ offers to each
Love's fine reprise: Love each to each.
The message comes to one and all;
Love is the sum of love that calls.
Go deeper still to know and see:
The Christ that wills love and beauty.
Grace sets you free to know your place,
To simply be love's happy face.
Heed this story just to be clear;
Join the lovely way to love's cheer.
Follow your heart and it will show
The steady art that true love knows!
Let love bring light to live and learn;
Let peace bring sight for grace soothes yearn.
Leon Enriquez
18 Apr 2014, (on Good Friday)
Singapore