Long Stevenson Poems
Long Stevenson Poems. Below are the most popular long Stevenson by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stevenson poems by poem length and keyword.
The piano tuner
there used to be a greengrocer on the ground floor
except for potatoes, there was not much call for
another vegetable, the shop closed a piano tuner rented
the space and partly white-washed the windows
he didn't like to be seen by passers-by
I sat on the gate into our yard pretending to be a cowboy
when he asked me to help him in the shop, yes, I was glad
to help got boring being a cowboy
He sat me on a piano stool, opened up my fly, began
playing with my innocent , with his right hand he
wanked himself, I was too petrified in fear I didn't
run away; when he ejaculated, he dried himself with a hanky
in his pocket and, in a brusque manner, told me to leave
Outside, it took me a while to realize this man was a pig
but I was too ashamed to tell anyone and instead went
up to our flat opened a book by Robert Louis Stevenson
and began reading about islands and bright light
Felt like We are all Diverse but the Same in the Lord-March 5 2020 Tobymac Deep Hits Tour
This is the day the LORD has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.
I was sitting by the main stage 15 seats in front of me and eleven seats to the left of me for you see the stages shaped like a letter "T" and had a catwalk out and first on stage We Are Messages singing some their Greatest Hits after that was Ryan Stevenson followed by Jordan Feliz Aaron Cove .
I yet felt like We are all diverse but the Same in the Lord
We Are Messengers spiritually Knock Me Down Point to You©
Love Play Video Magnify Maybe It's Okay Power©
Cochren & Co.took me back to Church (Take Me Back) One Day©
Aaron Cole Motions THERE FOR ME©
My Year One More Day Right on Time©
Ryan Stevenson With Lifted Hands The Gospel©
No Matter What God Give Us a Baby Sister/Crocodile/Apples and Hallelujah©
Amadeo (Still My God) in the Eye of the Storm©
Jordan Feliz The River Glorify©
Faith Beloved Changed©
Witness©
I yet felt like We are all diverse but the Same in the Lord
Part 1...
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
a true story
It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.
Robert Louis Stevenson
Beneath the lofty canopy of ancient white oaks,
luminous beams of moonlight were dancing.
Their rhythmic cadence observed by amber eyes,
a pack of hunters, roaming the woodlands.
Myriads of stars were quickly fading from view
as ashen skies paled to blue across the horizon.
Dawn bathed the land in soft morning light,
embellishing the rolling hills. A new day was born.
The first rays of sunlight gilded droplets of dew,
and upon beds of moss, night creatures slept.
March 8, 2022
Form I - Imagism - New Poem Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Life of a golden child, where I began to fight for my life.
I started to fight, to search and find my problems
But you see , I was once a seed, a truly human being that was sadly & hurt and abused by just an enemy.
Why me? And others will never understand my pain, my vein, your vein. We all bleed the same damn things so I'm no different from anybody else.
I may talk way differently, comprehend way differently than others may think or see, but you see that's the golden child in me.
I'm just a different type of breed
Shh I need you to listen understand me
The world had planted seeds of disease feeding there inter piece, but you see
It's them vs greed not them vs me
Peace is really all that we need someone to talk to even if we don't believe I had my worst times, hard times moments I couldn't breathe
It became nights when I cried my big self to sleep ,
But have you ever felt like this before?
Had to stop onna side of the road and take a break from what this world had going on
Mhmh they told me to just write a poem , but my feelings and thoughts come from my heart so ATM it's a song . The Golden child
Will forever be my poem remember you are an golden child so you have to stay strong
Might not be there to catch you when you fall but remember Makayla stevenson bc my voice will always be along
Thank you
In an old-time real-book-with-pages feel in his day,
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote 'Treasure Island',
in his own inimitable way,
and tho' I know I may be wrong,
he could not have been pulling Long John Silver's leg,
as John would not have had a leg to stand on,
for, with his crutch (plus parrot), and I quote,
'He had still a foot in either camp.'
is that which, in 1883, Stevenson of Silver wrote.
Was it black (spot) humour to write of Long John so,
as I dearly need to know,
and it clearly goes to show,
we need much more input,
with that said, putting my best one forward,
it begs the question, 'What's afoot?'
Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap
but by the seeds that you plant.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
A HANDFUL OF SEEDS-RLS
Plenipotentiary plea,
A handful of seeds; on bent knee.
Tilling the soil of the deceased,
As the sun rises in the East.
Before elements feed the seeds,
Praising Christ, plucking up the weeds,
Taking the win against the beast,
As the sun rises in the East.
Smiles, friendships, with sweat and tears,
Sprinkled with hope, warmth pioneers.
Thinking of Christ, helping the least,
As the sun rises in the East.
Prizing the kids, right from the start.
Rich, full of life ~ they are the heart.
All that are Christ’s will join the feast,
As the sun rises in the East.
The life I was once gave
made me the strong, wise woman I am today.
I am Makayla Stevenson, and you will know my name.
Through storms that tried to break me,
I learned how to dance inside the rain.
Every scar became a lesson,
every loss became my gain.
I was built from silent battles
no one else could truly see,
yet I carried every burden
and still became me.
I am Makayla Stevenson, and you will know my name,
not from whispers in the darkness
but from the fire I became.
I turned pain into power,
tears into gold,
and wrote my own story
before the world was told.
I am a living testimony
proof that God still heals,
still restores broken hearts,
and turns wounds into something real.
I say Iam a living testimony,
shaped by faith, not fear,
and every step I take today
is proof that God was here.
I am Makayla stevenson
no longer bound by yesterday—
just the child who found the strength
to finally break free.
Remember this poem
Remember my testimony...
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
We seek ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ my friends -
That dawn should find us every day
Some ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ on our way.
The ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ sleep ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ and take ¦¦¦¦¦ rest.
The ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ priest and people slumber ¦¦¦¦¦
We ¦¦¦ are early ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ far and near.
So peacefully their rest they take,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ first awake!
- Strong heart! ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ seek the day;
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
A thousand seekers seek the light.
(Blackout of Stout Marches Lead To Certain Ends by Robert Louis Stevenson)
"I find my peace in Jesus' name"
"In the eye of the storm" waiting
Wondering when's the next battle
When a chat turns to tittle-tattle
I hope never again, pray, then
"I find my peace in Jesus' name"
I know, "when the storm is raging"
I can come to You in prayer
You will answer, take away every care
"When my flesh is failing", its then
"I find my peace in Jesus' name"
Praise and honor go just to Him
"He lets me rest in green meadows"
In my mind a gentle breeze blows
Satan no longer my soul claims
"I find my peace in Jesus' name"
"In The Eye Of The Storm" Ryan Stevenson
My great-grandfather had amassed extensive knowledge.
If anyone knew politics, he was the man.
He was a graduate of an Ivy League college.
He was a three-time supporter of William Jennings Bryan.
My grandfather continued the family legacy.
I had to consider him knowledgeable among men.
He closely followed domestic and foreign policy.
He voted for the likes of Al Smith and Alf Landon.
My father was quite interested in politics also.
The old man firmly believed in a stable world order.
It seemed there was not a thing he did not know.
His votes went to Adlai Stevenson and Barry Goldwater.
I had an uncle who knew all about politics.
In his lifetime, there was much money he would earn.
He was aware of all the angles and the tricks.
He supported candidates Hubert Humphrey and George McGovern.
I have a cousin who thinks he knows it all.
Great political knowledge is what he claims to possess.
He believes that in this world, he stands quite tall.
He cast his ballots for Bob Dole and Mike Dukakis.
With the candidate to receive my vote, I am not certain.
I am the middle ground between the hawk and the dove.
When I step inside the machine and close the curtain,
I will pull the lever that says “none of the above”.
Submitted to PoetrySoup February 27, 2011