Long Strives Poems
Long Strives Poems. Below are the most popular long Strives by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Strives poems by poem length and keyword.
Tears in my eyes
raging righteous anger
flow threw me like
high tides.
Dam walls crumbling
around me
Why can't I be free
from the fears and
anger in me?
Why can't I escape the
black abysses that
yawn to swallow me?
Impending disasters
one after and after
and after.
Why can't I be free
of my inferiorities
Searching for acceptance
that warming stimulation
of another one's compassion.
Fuming helplessly and unknowingly
countless times endless lies
weakening my strives.
Thinking it shall pass
but still it stays alive.
Oh how I pray
Oh God! Oh God!
Clear these tears from my eyes
rid me of this anger that
stays alive.
By
Jay Johnson
(Dedication: For Ann, who knows.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow your heart and listen well:
Do what you love and let it show;
All good things start when urge in-dwells;
Your musing dove inspires warm glow.
Go with the flow with inner voice;
Dare to dream big as wonder flames;
Discern and know your steadfast choice;
Sweet as a fig your primal game.
Your sure heart knows just what brings joy;
Love with passion as purpose drives;
Ask that you know your steady ploy;
Live bold action as your heart strives.
Dare to be bold with courage fond:
Look within you for inspired cues;
Let thought unfold in your own pond;
It's up to you to create you!
Live your best form each brand new day;
Focus and see a world of change;
Love is the norm that brings grand play;
Truth and beauty connects your range.
When things look bad as failure flings,
See through the dark that engulfs pain;
Cheer hides in sad: watch good times swing;
You heart will spark success again.
Learn to discern your time and space;
Be unafraid as failure comes;
Stare at concerns to yield your place;
Fear is a dread that zero sums.
Live with fond joy and dare to play;
Life is a game that you can win;
Defeat the ploy that fear portrays;
Wear well your name with faith within.
On earthly spheres right now and here,
Each man is born to a set tune;
Success is near beyond all fear;
Let work adorn what pulse attunes.
Know who you are as heart knows mind;
Walk your path well and do have fun;
Cause is a star that seeks and finds;
Result now dwells within life's pun.
Rhymes and reason follow the sun;
Do what you do with end in mind;
Sync with season and prime your run;
It's up to you to seek and find.
Keep mindset clear when things turn bad;
Love will know grace that governs each;
Keep heart sincere when sad turns mad;
Love firms your face to glimpse fond reach.
Here by your side, pure passion springs:
Here as you think a thousand deals;
Here for the ride, sure purpose brings:
Here as you link a hearty feel.
Keep doing now what your heart knows;
Keep faith and hope that lives love here;
Keep love's endow in sacred flow;
Keep poise and scope and work with cheer.
Remember well the words you say:
Encrypt your voice with pleasant poise;
Describe and dwell from play to play;
Live well your choice and thus rejoice.
Leon Enriquez
29 June 2014
Singapore
We are the home of the braves. The land of the free.
But America isn’t what it seems to be.
We are also way more fortunate than a third world country
But when we look around our people are hungry.
We are quick to find peace but yet we’re still at war.
We are so oblivious to what goes on around us but can tell what’s the super bowl score.
We are so busy telling them they’re wrong but we’re killing our selves.
Like a book shelf this American constant contradiction keeps adding on shelves.
We are promoting drugs to children and taking their lives
Our ghettoes are killing their dreams and taking their strives
We sometimes privilege the rich and punish the poor.
Then our public figures expose children to the illegal stuff leaving them w/o hope for more.
We show them alcohol but then restrict their age.
Then we beg them not to put the car in gage.
Then our government is quick to lock them up and throw away the key.
But then they want us to help them and be all that we can be.
The media only portrays the bad and rarely gives us the good.
If we can’t take ourselves seriously then who else should.
If together we stand and divided we fall.
That’s why we hunch our back and never stand tall.
If we’re big brother then what happened to our mom and dad.
Whose to tell us right from wrong and let us know that’s bad.
This country was birthed from fighting ourselves but we didn’t learn.
Its like our ship is sinking and we’re hanging on to the stern.
We try so hard to be everyone’s friend that we made an enemy.
Then we rub them the wrong way, but its really bad chemistry.
It’s this constant back and forth or up and down.
It’s the outside happiness or the sunk in frown.
It’s this American contradiction that keeps us blind.
It’s the same contradiction that doesn’t want us to expand our mind.
Its like we’re confused but we don’t care to explain.
It’s like we act on impulse and don’t even try to refrain.
We are so helpful but yet helpless.
We don’t know where to move but this is our game of chess.
We blame one man for all our problems.
Then we turn around and expect him to solve em.
We forget what hard work is and education.
We so focused on the time and meditation.
We do one thing and say something different
We need to change this contradiction in an instant.
NIQUEL MCRAE
Cobalt storms; not azure skies,
predict changing seasons.
Vague ambiance of lies,
waltz with fated reasons.
So tug upon the corners,
try to veil the smile.
Gather all ye mourners,
weep for her awhile.
He knows that she flows,
rivers channel deep.
But ocean's floor below,
caress his troubled sleep.
Golden pair; wounded dreams,
silently entreat.
Moments slide between the screams,
stranded in the heat.
She can't draw inside the lines,
of howling winds deranged.
And up ahead; ominous signs,
the highway looks so strange.
But he can hold her brave will;
in his hands so tenderly,
not even strong enough to still,
his mind she cannot free.
He is the lust to breathe and fly;
his wings stay unused,
within her voice; an angel's sigh,
but the melody, confused.
When questions birth insanity,
saline begs for more.
But he can only hear and see,
the vision behind the door.
And he will toss; and he will turn,
until his eyes are bright.
But in the loss of orgasmic burn,
the other sighs in the night.
He cannot wait; the world is open,
quiet, he leaves the bed.
Heart is faith; pulse is broken,
but his soul must be fed.
With trembling hands; he gasps to feel,
her curves and body light.
Silken strands and he must kneel,
to deliver here tonight.
He hears soft cries; for all too soon,
the other is in pain.
As his soul dies; behind the moon,
denying need again.
Have you ever had to choose,
one over the other?
And you knew that you would lose,
giving up one lover?
Life is a composition,
he strives to hear the source.
He must create; orchestrate,
passion is the force.
When you read this piece of art,
you may think me wrong.
But I've heard the rhythm of this young man's heart,
and the music keeps him strong.
As he grows closer to his wife,
it's the stuff dreams are made of.
But from now til the end of his life,
he's alive in guitar love..
I saw you welcome the sun's kiss in the tropical country.
I saw how you wished you had swings and the feeling of soaring through clear skies.
You dreamt of being your brother's kites.
I saw you cut the string and set them free.
You were so deeply young.
You wondered about rain and its touch.
You smelled of serenity and warm poetry.
I saw how you so proudly wore that red dress with white Daisies your mother bought you.
The chickens pecked at its flowers and you laughed.
I saw you running full speed into your father's arms.
He'd never let you fall.
You felt loved.
Like a child you had small doubts.
You are the girl that never chased after butterflies
You are frightened of cart wheels and shower drains.
As you grew older
You were afraid of deeper things.
Afraid to see your father's closet empty.
Your mother never hugged you.
I know you lived in a concrete home built on sand.
At times the walls came crashing and it left bruises.
You learned to resist,
Against all down falls and tumbling downs.
I saw you survive and it was beautiful.
Your father struck down on you with bone crushing words.
He no longer talks to you.
Your mother doesn't understands you
She doesn't know you.
Womanhood left you stranded.
I saw you drift into deep thought,
Disconnect from the earth.
Love felt like a different language.
You found refuge in a smile.
You put your hurt on paper.
You wanted the world to stop and admire your strengths.
You always run away.
Your voice tucked itself away in it's safe place.
Demons strangling your bravery.
You felt ashamed of becoming a woman
It took your father's love away
And like your mother he made you feel like you don't deserve respect.
You discovered womanhood in the dark. It is a cave of secrets. It is full of difficult strives and expectations. It is full of hardships and twisted inequity.
But somehow in the midst you found it breath taking.
You could never trade it.
It is the birthplace of strength and admiration.
It is the salt of the ocean and the colors of the sky.
Young girl
Learn to live unapologetically.
At times you will still find it difficult to accept your chipped edges
But you are a woman.
You'll find beauty in the scars and in everything that is broken.
Only you can tell the story.
Only you can change it.
Form:
A BLOCKBUSTER A POETRY DIVA!
Introduction please::
Through the eyes of a Spiritual Healer, sees Oblivion Dark Sunshine.
Visionary to her purpose, her life dances.
She is in search of the ultimate right; nom de plume is her name.
Her favorite flower is daffodil that blows in the wind.
Effortlessly she speaks without a written cue.
She is a poet and philosopher of the truth.
When prompted, she leaves in confidence that she can provide you
with the needed assistance you requested.
Never a task will she take that she cannot complete.
She is integrity and your virtual reality.
In the mind of her people, she is heard.
Candor is her way of administration.
Her outspokenness is loved by all that know her.
However, her honesty can hurt.
Therefore, she guards her words to be more professional.
Oblivion Dark Sunshine is a versifier, rhymester, bard, well written and there is more not said.
Her wordsmith is published and this is all known well.
We enjoy her through social media.
Her books should be on all shelves.
A Life Poet and Philosopher
A BLOCKBUSTER
Her Psalmist thumb is a gift from God.
She shares this with the world through a poetic verse.
She liberates herself from any form of poverty.
She delineates a world that is free.
Naturally, she writes about anything.
Oblivion is the sunshine to those that life vents darkness.
Strenuous are her themes, insofar as these are topics with universal meanings.
She provides dogma, philosophy of meaning and truths, to communities and neighborhoods .
With candor, she speaks outspokenly to withstand negativity.
Prolific to the cause, her name will be recognized systemically.
She thrives on esteem, truth, and self-worth.
Copiously, she strives to be heard.
Social media is her teeming vehicle.
Oblivion Dark Sunshine is a versifier, rhymester, bard, well written and there is more not said.
Her wordsmith is published and this is all known well.
We enjoy her through public mediums.
Her books are poetic instruments.
Blockbuster
Life Poet and Philosopher
Oblivion Dark Sunshine
Poetry Diva
______________________________________________________|
Verlena S. Walker
UPDATED SEPTEMBER 15, 2014!
In the absence of complication,
trials and tribulations become distant memories.
Above sapphire skies delight sanguine eyes -
inspiring forthcoming musings of the mind
Why, had the circumstances been not so
You would have listened to my frail voice
As it strives to step on life's pebbles
Merely to cross the river willed to us by God!
Pray, you would have yourself asked me
To recount to you of the many insights
That the skies bestow upon me,
Merely because your heart feels alive
Only when connected it is to the mysticism
That surrounds our bond!
More, you would have believed in me
Desiring me with the strength of an earthquake
Seeking solely to see my ocean bed flood
Ravaging lands and killing life
Merely to show to the rest of the cosmos
Of how moving me remains your sole duty!
Had there been not so many complications between us
You would have been the gorges
Ready to swallow my flooding waters
Merely to calm the unease that flows in me!
I remain mere woman
And in my gaze,
You remain my God,
Willed to me through the whispers of the skies
In the depths of the night!
Without you, the consciousness inhabiting me
Will turn into dust,
Easily blown off by gales and typhoons
While yours would roam around,
Hurt and angry at yourself
For having failed to believe that life on Earth
Could be imbibed with the sparks of the divine!
The complications are merely due to misunderstandings
And maybe to a bad timing,
Pray, simplify them:
Lower your swords, speak to me, listen to me,
Make of me your main concern,
Love me, forgive me and embrace me!
See the truth in my meaning
Understand that complications are merely ploys
Of the darkness surrounding us,
Seeking solely to foil God's plans!
My eyes seek to see their reflections in yours
When after whispering of my poetry to your soul
You shall lay, spent and worn
Wanting me to indulge in more of my art
Merely to please you!
In the absence of complication,
My hand would be yours to rule
My heart, yours to cherish
And my soul, yours to inspire!
In the absence of complication,
You would accept the position of God
That I give to you,
Wanting to see me snarl at the rest of the world
But,
Becoming all servile and submissive to you!
Just for the sake of saying "hello"
Courtesy garden variety/generic common Joe
who strives to achieve becoming
(even posthumously)
an esteemed writer likened to outstanding poe
whit – perhaps illusions
of grandeur must be reined in
courtesy horse sense and Whoa!
A short time ago today
(the ides of March 2021)
upon returning from nearest LIDL
(located at 1831 E Ridge Pike,
Royersford, Pennsylvania 19468
Latitude: 40.1845 Longitude: -75.5360),
I realized too late the opportunity
to exchange pleasant greetings
with another resident (a young man,
who shares a similar physique
to yours truly).
Preoccupied removing comestibles -
predominantly nine plastic
gallon jugs of distilled water
(tightly packed within large suitcase,
which luggage formerly
belonged to Boyce Harris - papa)
the notion occurred
(ex post facto).
Cursory aforementioned observation,
(viz forfeited interpersonal opportunity)
unexpectedly impetus awoke
regarding said unnamed bloke
(who I've seen scant
number of times before)
friendly exchange thus didst evoke
idea to craft poem,
cuz pleasant demeanor
generates figurative chain reaction
livingsocial among other
(mostly elderly) folk
here at Highland Manor
this credo to befriend others I invoke
(by Dickens) with little
or no great expectations
motivates me to risk
playing game of life no joke,
but good humor a masterstroke,
one generic American notes tis oak
kay for yours truly not to poke
intrusively, (albeit rudely
he thinks) and possibly also stoke
antipathy by ignoring
formalities of pleasantness
in either case saddle and yoke
me with unflattering
nom de plume.
Additionally I will allow
enable, and provide tolerance
if recipient of mine genuine
companionable intent
declines overture as potential
future bosom buddy
and/or sounding board,
plus will defend self
against blistering, excoriating, scathing...
metaphorical nonetheless hurtful assaults
against mine brow
will not figurative undermine
paltry self esteem, but endow
redoubled effort to risk
making acquaintance(s) and consort
with persons who cross my path
their nose in the air
trumpeting arrogance and how
never be deterred toward livingsocial
such personal promise I vow.
Cuz existence among *****sapiens
extremely intolerable prospect
particularly sharing planet
with most violent species
courtesy hoodlums wielding
deadly firearms methodically gun down
men, women and children
ratcheting grim milestone
countless dead civilians linkedin
with hazards of war zone.
Upon surrendering this self
hypnotized faux yes ("FAKE") Earthing,
I noticed nothing amiss
(which temporary state of transcendent bliss
twice daily meditation strives to attain),
ah...before you dismiss
a non "FAKE" claim lemme juiced
apprise ye with a very brief hiss
tour re:, how this generally outlandish
(long gush fellow) doth wanna kiss
hippy, cheeky and buddy
UFO's (with chess
a mon bot of errant knightly -
je ne sais quois finesse,
Oh Henri Matisse -
yea artfully add a touch of Swiss
obviously predominantly
French laced politesse),
though up pawn occasion
this lousy manque non
rook key mutant doth miss
long disused subtle social cues, cuz I still
feel asper (in) a human aberration
always felt like an outcast in an alien nation
even though born on Mars,
(a distinct honorable station),
yet resided on third rock from the sun
what seems like forever damnation
yours truly experienced abolition
against supposed invaders from outer space,
and essentially targeted, kindled,
and bullied on par like an abomination,
no surprise while attempting
to escape imponderable,
and intolerable being walled din,
and trumped "illegal" accusation
crackled, snapped, and popped with abjection,
your honor (forgot to mention
earlier got picked up mistaken as invitation
from outer space by a kid prized
as some sophisticated surveillance drone),
within an etchy sketchy section
of town, and must avoid acquisition
by mad scientists (employed by NASA),
who will undoubtedly take immediate action
and disassemble me (carefully as if dismantling
Bono fide atomic bomb), hence activation
must be established pronto against administration,
sans powerful GMO firearm, emitting disinformation
(mine defense of last resort)
will definitely signal to nemesis
furthering my aggravation,
and Putin this webbed, whirled,
and wired woebegone
wysiwyg wordsmith at risk.
Underneath our sins/ they call us sinners
Underneath our pride???underneath our happiness? Buried within society? We heard them shout?
We heard them shout at the top of their lungs. We heard them shout where we were going and when we were going there. We heard them call us “Devils.
“Devils”??How could we be devils?? We were only just alive. We didn't choose to be this way, it just happened like this. We went to the venues for confession but they only shamed us more. They shamed us for coming clean, they humiliated us, kicked us out and closed the door.
-So what now. Where will we go? It's ok, forget about it, pack your bag and put on a smile. We're leaving but we'll come back after a while. Underneath my strong assertive exterior there is a person scared that they have to go. A person that regrets ever letting the world know. A person that took advice from someone living on the same planet yet a different world .
We heard them shout at the top of their lungs. We heard them shout that sooner or later we would have to stop this sin. We heard them call us miscreants. MIscreants?? As in criminals?? What have we done to be classified as such?? As if me expressing my love through a touch is enough to make me into an animal. One deserving of being put into a kennel. Are those who love normal recipients?? Are they the ones worthy?? Does their normal make them better? Does their “holy” mean they’re greater? They shout loudly at the breaker. And their loud shouts grow prouder.
-Underneath that voice shouting lies a girl not so much girl buried within society. Slowly dying to make a break, slowly crawling to catch a breath. Underneath her happiness lies the lies that she hides from the world as she tries to be the best girl in it. Underneath her pride lies a girl that strives to reach and meet the terms of their holy but dries out and dies.
-Underneath their “HOLY”.
They call us villains.
We hear them shouting.
We bear with the pain and the shame… we pack our bags and turn our backs….desperate for the day they will understand our pain and welcome us back
I express my pain loudly yet not trying to provoke thee
They ignore my yells proudly while singing the songs of their holy