Long Stable Poems
Long Stable Poems. Below are the most popular long Stable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stable poems by poem length and keyword.
Brace For Impact
Brace for impact with tact
and promptness
to access success
on venture or adventure
at present or in future.
Meet the challenge at any range.
Brace for impact
Act, react or interact:
Always in progress
proceeding dauntless
never to regress!
Even if to endure failure.
Work if gone wrong.
Stay stable and strong
Rectify and correct.
To be precise and perfect
Keep your head erect.
Honest approach with sporty spirit:
Victory or defeat not the criterion.
Dynamism is the countable credit.
Whatever be the environ
Calm cool or turbulent
Hopeful or despondent
Confront at every front
Face fearful fact.
Brace for impact.
Title chosen Brace For Impact
06/13/22
This or That Vol.12
Contest by Edward Ibeh
We are the managers of every situation
Citizens of a fragile nation
We are the believers of impossibilities
Despite our numerous capabilities
We run away from our responsibilities
And blame the failure of our leaders for the ruin of our cities
We are the managers
Managing the manageables
Enduring the endurables
And pushing the pushables
We are the mangers
Our wages we are hardly given
Yet we still manage to go to work
For their mistakes we have strangely forgiven
After all we must work
We are the managers
Who rarely have stable power supply
Yet we must fulfil the law of demand and supply
Maybe because we cannot fly
Proper management we do apply
We are the managers
Who despite being failed repeatedly
We hold on to our dreams persistently
Doing the same course repeatedly
Just because we will not hold the table of Mr Lecturer
Or bow to the harsh dictates of Miss/Mrs Lecturer
For to us, our dignity and future are the things that matter
We are the managers!
Yes we are the mangers!
In whose home resides hell on earth
Probably the love never came from the heart
And for the sake of morality
That exists in our community
We forever manage our incompatibility
And forever remain in an unwanted emotional unity
WE ARE THE MANAGERS…
To be continued…
ABSOL - 07032277508
I was thinking of how he would live in a farmhouse like this!
Where was the plough? And where was the stable?
Where was the desk for writing poetry?
In the wooden door? Or next to the window?
When did the mouse come out?
Would it be in the shadow of the oil lamp reading the poetry?
Or going to the yard to see roses?
Where was the rose?
Could her red be seen in the moonlight?
How much of the moonlight awakened the louse?
Did it bite? His back? Or his head?
At that time, was he writing a poem?
Writing what?
Man's man for A a that
Or Tam O Shanter?
What aroused his tender feelings like water?
Was the battle of Sherramuir?
Or Ae Fond Kiss?
How did he sing?
The Auld Lang Syne?!
Underground rivers unsettle thoughts,
feelings on stable ground.
Real estate doesn't sound as real
with thoughts of hyporheic flow
beneath our feet,
out of sight and sound.
Rivers are meant to have light on top,
transparency.
Underground flow must look more like a furtive capillary
than an upfront tributary,
bringing salvific moisture
down into and across and through
deep ecological roots of fertility.
Hypostatic unions
are contrasts between understory backgrounds
emerging into focal foreground,
like darkness of night's flowing complexities
from which light emerges each day
then fades again,
like Yang creation stories
emerging from Yin
hypostatic partnering,
hyporheic flow
deep down within ecological consciousness,
subterranean channels
feeding timeless roots
of healthy real estates,
cooperative becoming.
Brown the color of the passive ground Autumn I'm falling leaves horizontal the waist by product the leaves leave me Brown blooms with the bloom of unemployed in clouds Grands made from scratch chocolate cake taste the golden tan Brown pancake taste like hot coffee and cocoa yum I'm in pecan much and crunch right on mushroom potato soup delicious feels like synonym of dressing being in down Brown a cloud of pollution Brown the face and skin the many races Brown is a color nurturing ingrown it's the color of Mother Earth Brown so Earthly neutral Brown colors filled and pumping iron serious down-to-earth stable bility protection and supported sense of Duty and responsibilities 5th and the listing of last names I'll be around must be own wit
BROWN
10/29/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
Understand the power of the wind,
who kneels with the earth's rotation
A musical voyage in huge waves,
to a pristine destination
The longing for freedom
Still, don't expect a place without footsteps
It's a place where dreams meet,
from past and future
Although the wind cries
and its throat is sore
Dear Maria, follow your heart wherever the road may lead
But, nothing is in balance before the wind is stable
... then ... Newton's laws have been fulfilled
10.05.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
2. The Wind Cries Mary
- Jimi Hendrix - https://youtu.be/ylbRDXKSauQ
Musical Inspiration Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
4th place in the contest
earth star chakra my killick, subliminal subpersonal connects me to core of planet’s centre, spinning yet rooted in quiet mirth
absorbing misaligned energy in sturdy girth
intuits heartfelt frequency exchanges
across planetary consciousness gauges
below Gaia’s benign surfaces it modulates
where own wisdomed faith undulates
steady Will humming stable solid secure
no other anchor would I endure
awareness finely tuned filamented fibres
reaches far flung corners shadowed or
light, without single flinch fight or flight
authority with divine responsibility dear
centring my substance as an emperor does
holding disciplined foresight unseen safe
signals settled velocities where I am to walk
intentions sure of next waiting chorded port
underground star exuding strength, cohort
of ages, missioning goals it never aborts
Swish tailed Hamish, gloss black Stallion
Proud prize show hero bore blue medallion
Champion head turner tenacious steed
Lonely hoof stomper longed for a companion
Incidence of coinciding reserved to imagine
Narrow minded owners oblivious to his need
High knee haughty mare trotted by his enclosure
Temptation's waft overcame limited exposure
Hamish neighed a friend request, - she agreed
Lake rippled muscle, alpha outraged neck tossed
Winner's whinny recognised chance may be lost
Breaking barriers now became a necessary deed
Chest of windswept lake assisted stable escape
Charging through victoriously, gate swung agape
Asked lady to dance, she daringly took the lead
Dust distubed finesse surpassed usual manuevres
Hamish whispered happily, " Forever, the two of us."
Most cherished equine paradise known while freed
28th July 2020
Written for Contest: Tail End Stanza
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Nineteen months has passed since I did a step..
A step to attain one of my dreams..
Rumored as the land of "Just dime or penny"..
Talked as a land of so much strict Rules..
Rials their stable currency.
Oil their main product..
Towering modern ediffices abounds..
Architecturally design interiors..
Rich truly, as they said..
Islam the strictly followed religion..
Arabic their national language..
Riyadh, Jeddah, Maddina some of it's mainland..
Black and white the common colors of apparels..
Yet, roaming around malls..
Variant vibrant colors visibly in stalls..
Simplicity, that's what I appreciated here..
It was a barren solid land..
Almost all nationalities are here..
Finding a life; Making livelihood..
Maximizing what this country can offer...
Yet it's rules, the prohibitions..
Depresses the other life of man...
It takes away some of the joys of living..
Thus others, breaks the rules...
" incest meetings" are such as searching gold..
precious as undiscovered diamonds..
friends makes the stay here worthwhile..
Adopting and preserving the heart of humanity..
by: olive_eloi
02/10/2013
9:44pm
------------
Some kings are borne in magnificent coaches gilt with gold.
With great pomp and blare of trumpet, their procession is foretold.
Others are borne on ornate sedan chairs, clad in purple gowns.
Upon their royal brows rest elaborate, jeweled crowns.
Christ forsook such trumpery for His triumphal celebration.
Instead, He chose a lowly donkey as His means of transportation.
Thro' the streets of Jerusalem the Man of Galilee was borne;
He of royal lineage, destined to wear a crown of thorn.
Exultant crowds spread cloaks and palm fronds along the mews,
Shouting "Hosanna In the Highest!", to the herald of Good News!
This festive occasion was revealed by the Prophet Zecharia,
Who foretold that a humble donkey would bear the great Messiah!
Tho' The Prince of Peace could've sat upon a prancing Arabian steed,
Or a lavishly bespangled camel of exceptional breed,
This modest yet majestic preacher, teacher, physician,
Chose to ride a simple donkey to fulfill His earthly mission.
Tho' the Savior of humankind was in a lowly stable born,
And suffered a lifetime of ridicule, hate and scorn,
He endured trials and temptations but overcame such things,
And arose victorious o'er the grave to become the King of Kings!
Entry for Anthony Slausen's "Jesus" Contest