Long Speak up Poems
Long Speak up Poems. Below are the most popular long Speak up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Speak up poems by poem length and keyword.
There’s a knock at the door and it’s the devil
The time has come for me to pay for my sins.
Judgement’s been passed by my creator
Now my soul’s eternal sentence shall begin
It’s not that I didn’t know this day
was coming
And I don’t have any great last words to say
Though I do despise the circumstances
Can’t say I regret a single day
There are those who look in from the outside
As they shake their heads slowly in disgust
Thinking they know all the answers
Saying I did what I did out of lust
But they don’t know of the sorrows
That had covered the depths of my soul
No , not one of them has understanding
How loneliness had taken it's toll
Yes - I reached out while I was drowning
And to my surprise she answered my plea
I crawled into the arms of her loving
And she breathed a new life into me
So now as I am lead down hell's hallways
To pay for the things I’ve done wrong
I’ll suffer my punishment in silence
But inside my soul lives her song
You see I know what it is to be lonely
Left alone to rot by myself
Wishing for someone to save me
From dying alone on the shelf
Yes it’s true, I get it, I was married.......
and on paper that changes all the rules
But belief marriage will end one’s heartache
Is a belief held by jokers, idiots and fools
I found it better to know new love in my life
Than to drown alone in my pain
It was better to sin and find joy once again
Than to let loneliness drive me insane
So now I walk down hell's long hallways
As I say my final goodbye
I’ve no last great words to leave you with
I’ll leave those for some other guy
Who thinks perhaps he has all the answers
To life’s questions riddles and task
But often those who speak up the loudest
Are those who talk through their ass
We all face our own separate challenges
Which we must overcome in order to get by
So before you start with your judgements
Remove that plank from your eye
Open your ears and hear with your heart
And a soul which is loving and kind
See things through the eyes of your neighbor
Leave your ridiculous judgement behind
The first time a belt struck my bottom, I became haunted. Dad raised his voice. The ghost covered her bottom and pressed her back against my bedroom wall. Fear clung to my back. Dad didn't break in with a raised belt. By nine, I was too close to puberty with a sense of identity outside my parents. I could learn to speak up. Dad's threat of a spanking remained while my parents were married. The ghost persisted after I severed Dad's belt from me.
My parents divorced the same year Grandpa grew quiet. The memory of Dad's violence echoed under Grandpa's wheezes. Grandpa moved in when Dad was shoved out. I cut up Dad's belts. Mom abandoned Dad's junk on the curbside. The garbage collectors didn't get to trash Dad's stuff on Thursday morning. Grandpa was a welcome change in the former office. Mom and I didn't have to tiptoe past the door.
I was tasked with staying nearby in case Grandpa needed something. Mom told me to ignore his mumblings and to call her if he starts screaming. Grandpa's foster parents weren't nice. He had to be thankful for being fed, and their belt was his closest sibling. He remembered them the closer he got to death. He was peaceful when I was there. I like to believe it was because I was his favorite grandchild. But I couldn't ignore the ghost beside him. My ghost acknowledged him. He didn't do the same. The ghosts' dynamic refused to change. Grandpa and his ghost died. Our shared truth haunts me.
‘She’s doing excellent’ -
B-U-T,
She could speak up more,
Maybe even -
Participate
To the girl -
Something does not sit right,
She DOES participate,
So why does this teacher lie,
She can’t help but feel undermined -
Whenever she speaks in class, she is stereotyped
On the inside she cries,
On the outside she smiles -
In fear the teacher will tell another lie
Her parents notice but they don’t pry,
They empathise, because they understand why
They know if they speak -
She’ll be expelled,
And this is the best school in their town,
They don’t want to ruin her chances, to become what they couldn’t,
The daughter understands, this happened to them as well
he stopped to think about his life
when he was stranded on the desert island
was his wife-to-be someone he could be proud of?
Why had he chosen her?
She never put him first
many times, she put him last.
He thinks about her children
They ridicule him
Possibly learned this behavior from their mother
The wedding is to be in four weeks
why has it taken him so long to figure this out?
who asked whom to marry anyway?
He sits in silence, listening to the ocean lap quietly against the rocks.
Had he ever intended to marry her?
It’s the man’s job to ask, isn’t it?
How did he get roped into this situation?
Is it his mother’s fault? She is an aggressive female
Like his fiancé
Will he speak up or be lead around by another woman?
One who is as pushy and caustic as his mother?
He waves the boat on when it comes to pick him up.
Step forth
Time to speak
Take a part
Take part
Practice
Take the microphone
Step forth
Enter your arena
What you’ve been waiting for
You have the floor
and choices
Speak up?
Speak clear?
Let your face fill with cheer
In that moment
of change
your brain’s rearrange
you will like it
I promise
and will relish
the next time
you step up
Don’t become cocky
but be brave
and confident
cocksure but balanced
Bold
then settle back
and let the next voice
take over
Don’t be jealous
if they do it better
What is better?
We take turns
remember -
you learned that
in Kindergarten
We all have a part
to practice
in this life
Let us be a member
of mankind
and kind for that matter
I barely notice the horse as he walks,
his gait is so incredibly smooth,
we’ve been riding all morning on this ridge,
and have settled down into a nice groove.
My friend Joshua rides just behind me,
drinking in this Rocky Mountain scene:
cool breeze, bluebird skies, and a well-marked trail,
with sweeping views right out of a dream.
We’ve been riding for a few days now,
the trip has been nothing but sublime.
“Around the next ridge,”Joshua says,
“We’ll come upon the town of Centerline.”
The thought of a drink, a shave, and hot bath
puts a smile across my tanned face,
so we ride around a pillar of stone,
and gaze down a hill upon the small place.
It’s then that I sensed something not quite right,
I had been to Centerline before.
Where was the highway, the exit ramp?
What had happened to the big box stores?
And why could I see, sharp as a hawk,
when there were no glasses upon my head?
Why were my forearms smooth and muscled,
and why were loose strands of my hair dark red?
What was I even doing riding a horse?
Doctor told me to stop ten years back.
And I should be meeting my son for lunch,
then going to see his boy up at bat!
Joshua sighed,”It can take some time,
for the spirit to accept the change.
Your heart gave out in the shower this morn,
I’m afraid you’ll miss your grandson’s game.”
I turned and realized that I had not
seen this Joshua before that ride,
in fear I blurted,”Who are you man?
And why do you talk as if I’ have died?”
He just smiled, said,”You know who I am,
I’ve carried you when your legs grew weak.
And you know exactly where you are,
it’s the place your soul always did seek.
“You always did love those western tales,
even though you knew they were fantasy.
On Earth, perhaps, but I think you’ll find
that here there is nothing beyond me.
“All the questions spinning in your head
will be answered, have no fear of this.
This world that we’re in is your heaven,
and we’ve eternity to enjoy it.”
I knew at that point that I should speak up,
but couldn’t find words to put to my friend,
he just grinned, said,”There is no need to fear,
you’re going to see all of them again.”
And just like that the worry vanished,
and the only thing that was on my mind
were thoughts of that bath, whiskey, and a shave,
so we rode on down to Centerline.
The bombs wailed out
In terror they scream
Her fears come to life
He was only fourteen
A young boy whose life is gone
A mourning family whose life has changed
A murderous government supports change
Isreal lay waste to beautiful homes
Isreal crushed them with bombs
Thousands of natives crushed under stone
Yet told to move and stay calm
So they calmly meditate in prayer
They ask the world to like and share
They ask us to speak up
For citizens to be made aware
Palestine has traditional crops and culture
Isreal acts like vultures
Picking away at Palestinian land
75 years of Israeli torture
But they sing out
The mother still screams
She knows without a doubt
This is what it means to be from Palestine
Form:
I am all the people who came before me And I am all the people who will come after me
This is an ode to all of our ancestors Just because we don't all share the same blood Does not not mean that we are not one
To me inheritance Isn't just about family But communal experiences
I inherited my voice From those who were silenced but not quiet
I inherited my purpose From those who didn't get justice
I inherited my essence From ghosts Of our ancestors
I inherited the power of love A force stronger than the hatred They shoved down our throats
I inherited the strength From those who dared to go against the system
What I honour is every black life who fought, spoke and died for us And it would be a dishonour to keep quiet and not speak up
And to them I'm very thankful
And my children will inherit All of the above
An ode to our ancestors
"I'm a vessel
I'm a temple
of the Holy Spirit
I'm a vessel
taping me feel me I'm a container
a receptacle
suppository a drum
have not any disintegrating bones and dust I am not call a urn
me with sign hand mold me shaping me
until I an imaged All Father grieving me to me
until design plans tell me about plans
give me receive I be for your purpose qualifying
quality used me for thy Divine Purpose
Kneed me mold me shape me
need not leave me 5 a.m. solidify me
My flawed forgotten or broken reshaped me
Mold me He chose me He's spoken wholeness and peace
Sweet release amend bend me mold Me Hold squeeze me never leave me in
Mme concessions hold me whisper to my ears I am a blessing
Dress Your Vessel God mode me Temple of the Holy Spirit
I am a vessel sleeping me fill me your container I am the drum
You're calling me I am insured I am endowed with just a drop of your power
For the Masters use
Use me for the Masters use mode me for the Masters use
and shaped me remake me absolute Oh! Lord
I Am Your Vessel
thoughtful inciting security exposed to the Father
you and words and works
I am a vessel
I am shaping I am filled I am contained with his ever-present
I am love I am just calling I am called on to me to be God's vessel
Into thine image All Father speak up into me
you mean much to me received me
I be will purposed I qualify with quality used me for thine Divine Purpose
may not leave me Father feeling flawed forgotten or broken
You spoken to speak wholeness in my life
and peace sweet release in my life
you molded me get a hold of me
if you squeeze me never leaves me but. Still, since of your calling,
you made me your son and daughter.
I Am Your Vessel! "
6/10/22
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.2022©
I have this thing called ADHD
The H isn’t silent, I’ll help you to see
Ever since I was small, it’s lived inside me
It affects who I was, am and will be
Most people know, the layer on top
A tid bit of knowledge before the facts stop
Evaluating their lives, they tend to conclude
From the limited facts, they must have it too
But I need to speak up, I yearn to be heard
This isn’t a fad, or something I’ve learned
But rather, a voice, indecisive and quick
Listing my options, insisting, I pick
It never shuts up and will never be pleased
Off my terror and panic, it greedily feeds
Trembling with jitters, it fears the unknown
I lock in my choice, but it never moves on
Attached to my ear, I gave it a name
This relentless voice is none other than shame
Guilt and short comings, smeared in my face
A constant reminder, I’m not fit to race
The H stands for hyper, when in fact, I am tired
It refers to my brain and the way it is wired
I fidget when seated and excuse myself often
I come across rude, but my shoes must be walked in
I desperately try to absorb, process and act
I work hard to be average and display enough tact
But a fairly small task becomes a tricky ordeal
My response is to panic. It’s an everyday drill
It’s mental exhaustion, causing physical fatigue
I’m smart, but I’m slow. No patience to read
I’m resentful and sad. It seems so unfair
But these are my shoes and my shoes I must wear