Long Speaking Poems
Long Speaking Poems. Below are the most popular long Speaking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Speaking poems by poem length and keyword.
A friend corned an expression that arrested me. I had heard something similar before, but not exactly the way he said it. I have not been able to get away from the depth of its meaning. In my heart, I was saying, "Wow, I have for the longest time felt that way, but now I have words to express it. In a class that my friend was teaching, we were speaking of issues that sometimes defy comprehension and often leave us in a state of wonder and questioning. We often feel alone in an answer-free zone.
In this mystery zone, God is there, but we are challenged by life's adversities, illnesses, and by walls and roadblocks of the theological variety. In this mortal life that comprises thrills of victory and agonies of defeat, sometimes we are only consoled by the words of my friend, "Eternity is the great equalizer".
Is it just me, or do you also feel that our prayerful pursuit for answers, truth, and understanding, often fall short of genuine satisfaction.? We feel that we have a right to know the rhymes and reasons; that we deserve to understand the times and seasons; that divine healing is our portion of 'the children's bread'. We feel that our God has given us the keys to unlock such doors of mystery. So as his dear children, we do not feel any way defiant as we stand
upon what we perceive to be His promises to us.
At the same time, if God chooses to leave us in a state of, "What, why me, how come and how long, who, where, and when?", our love for the Father and submission to Him and His Sovereignty must become and or remain standard-fare.
Yes, our hearts are pure and our prayers are genuine. Yet, sometimes we are left with a sense of, "If I must drink this bitter cup, it's okay Lord, it's in your hands, and I will always keep faith with you, trusting you no matter what to the very end because you, Father, more than myself or anyone else, know what is best for me". Yes indeed, my dear friend Bob said it best. "Eternity is the great equalizer. Therein, we find closure.
05302018cjPSSent to Bob61918
'Twas high noon on Mount Horeb as Moses munched his gefilte lox.
He was lolling about taking a restful break from tending Jethro's flocks,
When he was startled out of his wits as a nearby bush burst in flames!
Now alert, he exclaimed, "What th...! Someone here is playing games!"
He was bewildered to note that the shrub wasn't being consumed by fire!
When he heard a voice calling, "Hey, you there!" he really began to perspire!
It turned out that I AM was calling him from the midst of that conflagration!
"You're on holy ground! Remove your Guccis! I'll brook no desecration!"
Moses meekly inquired, "Is it I, Lord, that you wish to confer with?"
"Yea! I've a proposition to discuss and you'll heed My words forthwith!
You, my boy, are hereby volunteered to lead My people to the Promised Land!
I've seen their misery and I need you to free them from the Pharaoh's hand!"
"But Lord, you know that I murdered a feller there and am a wanted man!
Besides, I ain't good at public speaking. Please find someone else if You can!"
"Fiddle Faddle! This magical staff will sort out your problems along the way!
I'll hear no more sass! Now hop on your ass! I'll brook no further delay!"
"A cloud by day and fire by night will guide you and I'll provide manna, sonny!
I'm confident that you can lead this motley host to the land of milk and honey!"
Their many trials and tribulations nearly drove beleaguered Moses to tears,
As the malcontented Israelites wandered about in the desert for forty years!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The soul waits in silence
for knowing comes his redemption
from God alone it will come
the fortress, rock and salvation
Oh how long do attackers batter
for feeling like leaning tottering wall
deceitful workers speaking kindly
inwardly cursing waiting for the fall
Hope within waits in silence
for faith in God won't be shaken
the one who's the mighty fortress
will never leave his own forsaken
Put your trust in this God always
this true refuge tell your whole heart
we that are lowly are a mere breath
those who trust not in riches are smart
God need only to speak once
for His power is His and His alone
one day justice will work it's purpose
as God's steadfast love will be shown
(Psalm 62(ESV)
For God alone my soul waits in silence;
from him comes my salvation.
He alone is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.
How long will all of you attack a man
to batter him,
like a leaning wall, a tottering fence?
They only plan to thrust him down from his high position.
They take pleasure in falsehood.
They bless with their mouths,
but inwardly they curse. Selah
For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.
Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us. Selah
Those of low estate are but a breath;
those of high estate are a delusion;
in the balances they go up;
they are together lighter than a breath.
Put no trust in extortion;
set no vain hopes on robbery;
if riches increase, set not your heart on them.
Once God has spoken;
twice have I heard this:
that power belongs to God,
and that to you, O Lord, belongs steadfast love.
For you will render to a man
according to his work.)
Orchard tree, spotted
outside our bedroom window -
round and green ornaments,
thrown to the ground, delicious,
in my apple-knocker* pie. lifted
off Autumnal floor, sliced with lemon, cinnamon,
and a beginner’s grin.
never gave thought to the old couple -
the tree’s provision, the hammer and nail
pounding the contoured foam
in a wood frame,
for changing baby,
onto the dresser that would become ours.
that pie and the neighbor’s salmon
(my first taste) - we were like pioneers
in Fortuna. Another neighbor
on this block of rentals,
a young couple who watched our daughter
for a millisecond,
offered up brownies -
i’d not take a bite of the apple,
metaphorically speaking,
as Eden did enough damage -
this sailor would resist the weeds,
drawn instead to the aromatic waft
coming from the oven
and the nestle of a powdered infant.
like the flawed granny apples,
our family life begins
by savoring what life brings -
it’s imperfections in others,
in us…our own sins find us.
true, we found the sky above us,
also - our knees on holy ground,
through the formidable years.
7/2/2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE
*rustic
Frozen In Time - Grave Etchings On Their Faces - Nearly Fossilized Engravings
When words are hard to find
When gravity gets in the way
Never call them wrinkles in mixed company
Lines form deep canyons over time in secret
History becomes the past as you grow older
Some words are hard to swallow
Some things are better left unsaid
Old men come from the past
Flow down the river with it into yesterday
Some things are better left unsaid
In ancient circles it is tradition
But circles under the eyes
Heads hung lower than the human race
Speak volumes
Say everything worth mentioning
Feet never touch the ground when telling stories
Loftier heights must be reached if only in futility
Worn out by time with sunken eyes cried out
Nearly fossilized, grave etchings on their faces
Dark and sinuous in their hidden messaging
Their feet never reach the ground as men remembered
At least not until tomorrow should they wake again
How can that be with all that weight of history
Heads hung lower than the human race
Time is never on your side when speaking of the past
With grave thoughts and gravity etched on their faces
You made up your mind to view the world
With different eyes —eyes recessed, eyes inundated with lustre,
Straining to catch every flight of the dancing seasons that hurled
Man and beast beyond frontiers with baluster.
You are the town-crier of our time, delivering messages printed on banners
That hail the energy of the heated earth.
What a voice you possess! So smooth and euphonious, it rings loud and clear
With the gumption of a king’s augurer, leaving behind manners
That haunt us pleasantly with bliss and mirth,
Suggesting frantically the suavity of a seer
Journalism has come to judgement, fragmented by words and the eloquence
Of time and grace. Are you not equal to the task?
The world admits you certainly are! And with supreme relevance
Your disciples are many, Dear one, flaunting the mask
Of imitation — they litter the world like tiny red beads flung and scattered
Beyond boundaries stretching from sea to coast
You are a lover of words, speaking with valour even on the arcades
Of fright, charming viewers with the powers of gathered
Attention when rainy nights and dewy mornings boast
Loudly of integrated existence of cascades
An anointed raconteur you are, reeling off tale after tale
By moonlight of cosseted playgrounds
I assume you frequented gatherings, prelapsarian, on a scale
So great that the sage spoke on select backgrounds
How do you do it?
Do you burn candles with scented tallow, and without
Need of a flint —thus reluming primitively dark alleyways?
You are the light that shines on tenebrous path and grit,
Revealing fey monsters responsible for the drought
That burned the pennants of truth posted on archways.
I never before knew an institution of mass communication
Until the bright age of running news crowned your labours
By way of a universally attended coronation
The world attributes to you the favours
Of heavens and caverns of Eudemons.
Arise, Dear One, arise and claim your special flair,
Make noise with the reeds of the Nile and dance gracefully
As you dine on stewed cinnamons
Rest assured you’re deeply blessed, Dear one with a dare;
I assure you mightily, speaking faithfully.
Out of Control
So many problems are on the rise,
We have two individuals that have
Appeared to have lost their mind,
Whoops maybe I'm speaking a little out of line.
Make your own opinions
About what's going on.
All I know is that I'm not alone;
It's like living out a reality show.
Social media is going crazy,
Every time we log on,
Someone has said something crazy.
Everyone has a problem with something,
But when it comes to government
Everyone becomes a critic.
Why can't we have an honest leader?
A person like honest Abe,
A leader with a vision,
a man whom freed the slaves.
We need leaders and believers,
To help us fix the things that are wrong.
Instead we have individuals judging each other
Based on all the wrong things they've done.
Like watching a court show,
But the judge is judging wrong.
There's only one way to make a difference,
One way to make sure that people listen;
Stand out on the PA system.
May I have your attention please,
I've got something I'd like to say;
For all of those who want to break out of the system,
This is your chance let’s form an intervention.
Forget about who's constitutionally correct,
Or whose plan sounds more direct.
The truth is we need to return to our roots,
Our nation was founded on biblical truth;
And I think it's about time we go back to living true.
In those days, when we feared the truth
not for ignorance of it within ourselves
but for the dangers posed by speaking aloud
against the prejudices of masses too well-tutored
in lies and hatred, we kept our secrets
and hid among the crowds, assuming
their rabid colorations, spewing the same
evil venom, spreading all the same lies,
pretending that the past was better
than the present, that regression
to our yesterdays, the years gone by,
could create for us, anew,
that Eden we all lost, that sanctuary
from our knowledge of the world, of evil;
and, our regained ignorance
would restore the bliss we lost
with our innocence. That, the biggest lie,
feeds our growing xenophobia --
hastens humanity's ultimate demise.
Time does not flow backwards in this universe;
and there is no "us versus them" --
we are all crowded here together
on this fragile planet, all in this together.
We must be kind, and love one another, or die.
Why schools?
We are not clear
WiseElder sighed
in desperate fear.
Why guns at school?
Where teachers try
and pine for Golden EcoRules.
We sacred pry to teach
cooperation
And in return
guns rape our secular market nation.
We strive to learn
not to waste life
what God has given
pedagogic grace love.
Why point automated guns
at schools for deep cooperative learning
how society right ought to run?
Such mown down waste
streaming out of place
assaulted from within
without health-wealth
productive face.
We are what we nourish
on the field
and in each indoor
and outdoor classroom
competing for success
without innocent Right's
cooperative prime relational
sacred co-present flourish.
Silent deep ecological/theological learning
gasping rabid claustrophobia
Fearing the worst absence of breath,
competition's violent aptic phobia.
Feed me!
silent screams voiceless Innocence
longing for a place to anxiously learn
without deeper LoseLose dissonance,
defined and refined
by aptic absence
of WinWin resonance.
Deep sacred consumers
grow internally/externally terrorist alarming
when cooperation's redemptive resilience
is bought from
and sold to highest competing performers
In society's rabid operationalizing,
awarding speaking parts
sung by Wild Western Old Farts
about history's highest and best,
most accurately aiming,
non-elite alarming,
RedPrince Southern Adolescent Charming.
Red automated assault
AntiGreen
competing monoculturation,
punishing devolution,
anti-healthy monoculturing rabid expansion
growing individually devalued,
secularized,
sometimes isolated for punishing demonization,
overpopulation
harvesting toxic anti-outdoor green classroom STEAM results.
You ask me why I live in cave
Caveman not want to be a slave
I take a chance and look around
I see that people act like clown
Your little ones you not take care
You always running here and there
You drop them off at crazy school
No discipline when they break rule
They spend their time in front of screen
You wonder why they act so mean
They don’t know sex or what is real
By age of ten know how to kill
Government tells you what to do
You give up trying to be you
Purpose of life, make more money
Hate is growing it not funny
I choose a life here in my cave
Not make a choice to be a slave
I took the chance to look around
No way I’d choose to live in town