Long Stain Poems
Long Stain Poems. Below are the most popular long Stain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stain poems by poem length and keyword.
The journey of a lifetime.
Life of the rhyme.
From darkness to light.
Hard was the fight.
Sitting alone at night.
So many a thought.
Answers sought.
Days so long.
Time gone wrong.
Felt I was at the end of my road.
Heavy was the load
Despair.
A heart in need of repair.
Life wasn't fair.
I knew I couldn't continue this way.
In the dark I couldn't stay.
One step at a time .
With help from some rhythm.
I let go of the fight.
Embraced the light.
I've freed myself from the past.
Life passes so fast.
Holding on to the pain.
There lies the stain.
Let it go
I know.
What's holding you down.
Don't let it make you drown.
There is strength deep inside you.
It will help you through.
From darkness to light.
Let go of the fight
Lost in your mind.
I find.
It's so hard to step over the pain.
But there is so much to gain.
It's ok to stand in the rain .
To stumble.
Grumble.
Into the pain you don't want to hold.
Be bold.
Move forward.
Toward.
Don't fret
You bet.
At times you may cry.
Things just happen, I don't know why.
But up to you to walk on by.
I feel the everpresent stillness of pain
This war is a just fight for gain
But does it matter who will reign
When my blood is only a stain?
The lives of thousands in fragments
The pool that is hatred stagnant
The war pulls them in like a magnet
We must honor their sacrifice so gallant
Who fights for the freedom of others
When oppressors seek their lives to smother
Will they return to their lovers
Or never go home to their mothers?
The soldiers of fairness and rights
Will ascend to climb to the light
Impressed in our memory is their fight
Their courage, their honor, their glory, their might
Crush the oppressors, free the enslaved
These people whose very lives have been saved
Their strength and valor never caved,
But a path, through sacrifice, has been paved.
Form:
When I groan in my sin-inflicted pain
Languishing in misery brought by disobedience-stain
Sorrowing midst fleshly triumph so void and vain…
My God offers to me His grace I’m unworthy to gain.
I draw* near to Him, placing my life into His forgiveness-domain!
When I cry for divine aid and support
Excruciating from my downfall’s discomfort
Wailing due to my worldliness and its guilt-haunting escort …
My Saviour pours His mercy for my ultimate resort.
I draw nigh to Him, laying my faith upon His strength’s fort!
When I need urgent care
Beseeching for an assured welfare
Ailing with discontentment’s scare…
My Lord presents His promises which His words declare.
I abide in Him, exposing my soul to His victorious stare!
*Psalm 73:28 But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works.
June 29, 2019
Same Old Hell
Back in the same old hell-
Back with the same old dwell.
A palace stuck in time,
A house without a rhyme.
The devil creeps ever close-
and he stabs me, so he knows-
how close I am to Death indeed,
and no matter how my poems plead-
he likes to sit and watch me bleed.
Bleed ink and dust and my old spirit;
growing lesser by the minute.
I escaped this house and dwell-
the stories I could ever tell
do haunt my head and chest and heart-
bleeding through the stain of art.
Where once was tears and fears and
sears- into my soul and stories told-
now is barren and empty and hollow
filled with nothing but the sorrow.
And now even I must be bold,
because the stories must be told.
Of fear and pain and haunting Death-
do cometh now and seeks his rest.
Inside my brain and mind and soul,
I play my part and sign my role
away to Death and his old tricks
and watch the hours slowly tick.
I roll along a dark ledge
Teetering between yesterday and oblivion
Contemplating one final sin
My ultimate act of inner hate
Do I have a choice or is it fate?
A half second away from nowhere
Feeling cool air blowing through my hair
Wishing it could blow away my despair
Lungs sucking in blackened air
Wondering if I ever mattered
Imagining blood splattered
on dappled concrete
As bones and surface meet
I flip gleefully
Imagining my relief
Heart pounding in chest
Beneath the letter held close to my breast
Within it all my sins confessed
Carefully laid out goodbyes
Written in rhymes
Thanking loved ones for the good times
Apologizing
Agonizing
Trying to explain
The coagulation in my brain
Thoughts that overrun me like a morbid freight train
Sunshine that never penetrates my rain
One pennied foot in front of the other
I roll out on the air
Wondering if anyone will care
My mind hyper aware
A feeling that someone is there
In that instant I change my mind
Rotate and look behind
There the Devil stands
I see his hateful smile
He's been whispering all the while
In his hand he holds a file
Labeled "Souls I've Taken!"
I'm both stirred and shaken
I feel my mind breaking
as I'm awaken
Mom says "get out of bed"
My eyes wide open
Thankfully not dead
Remembering what the Devil's file said
Sun shining brightly
Through my window and pain
I'm alive and sane
Not a concrete stain
I thank God I'm here
Feeling thankful
Once again!
For Shadow's contest
Written March 5th 2015
My mate Jim and I were tired of working for a boss.
We decided to buy a truck and give the 9 to 5 a toss.
We set up a little business, taking produce to the stalls.
It was just an idea we had about the time fortune calls.
We had a load of melons headed up to Jurien Bay,
They had to be at the markets bright an early next day.
Making good time, we would get there before dawn.
It had rained a tidy sky full, the road was rough and worn.
Suddenly the truck went slip slidin, we thought a flat tyre.
As we spied the scene she was sinking in a huge quagmire.
Now the burden of our troubles seemed too much to carry.
Near us was a house, we found out, belonged to Big Harry.
He was a retired farrier and a horseman dont you know it .
His reputation we heard was that of just an old poet.
Jim and I we pushed like Samson and Hercules,
All the good that did was just bury us to our knees.
Suddenly, we see a sight better than cavalry forces,
It was Big Harry leading two huge fine draught horses.
Over his arm he had slung harness and yoke and chains
Harnessing them, and there’s only the chain that remains.
“ Will ya axel take the stain? “ he asked in a shaky old voice.
“Yeah it should” I replied, so excited I was ready to rejoice.
We helped the poor feeble old man fix the chains to the truck.
Now stand back you two, there will be all sorts of flying muck.
Then he started giving orders to his two big handsome steeds.
His voice grew strong and powerful , orders were not pleads.
Words resplendent flowed, the beasts pushed to the core.
He cursed and swore an bullied them into giving a little more.
Those two beautiful horses pulled with all their might,
He shouted as the horses strained, ”it’s in a glue pot all right”
The golden horse called Ranger made a slip and nearly fell.
Big Harry let loose with language that’d make em blush in hell.
With one almighty heave the truck surged forward , higher.
It rolled up and out , free from the hold of that quagmire.
In a feeble old voice, “there ya go lads, thank Ranger n Thunder”
Folks will say he’s just an old poet, but to us he’s a bloomin wonder.
(Dedication: To the memory of my parents, RIP)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rows and rows here
As silence keeps
Soft stillness clear
In waves of sleep
Faces stare blank
In endless rows
Such file and rank
In an odd glow
Through sun and rain
Passive looks tint
Sans stress and strain
Where no sound mint
Calm desolate
Beyond mere grief
Tell of our fate
For life is brief
Embossed faint lines
In names now lost
Stain yellow shine
For death bears cost
Silence speaks well
Beyond our reach
As dead souls tell:
Can sepia teach?
Here for a while
Till journey’s end
Through tears and smiles
Just round life’s bend.
Leon Enriquez
17 January 2018
Singapore
That was Then, and This is Now
In the crypt of our loves memory, we danced so free,
Our romance, a cursed flame, burned with spectral glow.
But secrets, whispers from the damned, you see,
Now haunt this desolate heart with bitter, icy woe.
Thy deceitful touch, a venomous bite, I now know,
That hath passed from then, to now.
Thy laughter once, a haunting dirge so sweet,
Our dreams of an eternal union, pure and true.
But lies now stain the sacred vows we'd greet,
And trust, like a shattered vase, lies strewn askew.
Thy beloved promises now broken, I avow,
That hath passed from then, to now.
The poison upon thy lips, the accursed kiss still stings,
Each deceitful syllable, a phantom’s scream, tears my soul.
In the pit of despair, echoes of love's anthem rings,
Now consumed by the lies that devour it whole.
Thy pleas for moral absolution, I disallow,
That hath passed from then, to now.
As the raven of betrayal seeks to amend its weary prey,
Thy sharp talons, ripping out my heart's core.
Once deemed invincible, our love, now rent in disarray,
Drifting further apart, forevermore.
No longer shall I heed thy entreaties, in sorrow we shall bow,
That hath passed from then, to now.
Memories of our cursed love, linger in the mist,
I'll forge ahead, embracing the darkness that we sow.
For in the ruins of our buried love, lost to a fateful tryst,
The price of your betrayal, in blood, I shall bestow.
Thus, that hath been us then, and this is I now!
Such you on a voyage
You never said good bye…
Mother's dreams turn bizarre
Father's intensified sigh…
So are they stricken with age
Tremble they in your naked fear
Could you be so heartless?
Opposed your new found love
To elope was what was right
What is your love comprised of?
All wanted you to be alright
Created sorrow, for your act so less…
A she- devil, she turned out
For her love, left you Eden
To another Eden uncertain
The shock..What then? Hidden!
How do you wash every stain?
In your head conflicting thoughts pace about
Come home
Mother's calls hum...
Father's heart waiting
Help this panting…
Go home....
There are some who say there’s no redemption
and we mustn’t waste time with this deception
There’s nothing we can do but move on
and perhaps we can see another dawn
There is no absolution for our indiscretions
and our past is past no need for our confessions
They ask, “are we to blame for the stain in us?”
No type of repentance can remove this pus
These desperate people have no hope
and every day they walk the tightrope
Death smiles at each of us they say
whether you are straight or gay
No need to waste your time pretending
that there is something worth defending
They say that no amount of praying
will ever save us from displaying
The putrid stain that keeps us craving