Long Succeeded Poems
Long Succeeded Poems. Below are the most popular long Succeeded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Succeeded poems by poem length and keyword.
I have fought through incredible things
Trauma and all kinds of life experiences
One may think peace comes to one easy
But it doesn’t, as the years I have witnessed
Faith kept me going and my fight for survival
Staying authentic no matter what the issue is
Also what I believe in and standing by truth
All this can sound easy, but it is not always so
It is faith and the will to make it all happen
I have seen treacherous things done to others
That hit me deeply, wishing there is not cruelty
But there is a lot of it in the world out there
Unless we all try to do better still, as we can
--- I have fought and I have failed---
--- I have fought and I have succeeded ---
Up and down this road traveled in life will be
The consistency remains with who I am inside
To do the best I can through the journey I have
As we are true to ourselves, we are true to others
--- I learn the reward is to be earned ---
--- From genuine LOVE comes peace ---
*Inspired by a comment made by a true talented poet Victor Buhagiar
Heidi Sands
7/15/17
Alone In Eden
By Curtis Johnson
Though I had an amazing and awesome father, , and my husband was a most remarkable man,
still, I felt alone. Alone is not a good place to be.
Nevertheless, alone is the place I found myself.
That is, until I heard the voice of a strange one.
He seemed so wise, keen, and filled with knowledge.
I had everything I needed, plus the world’s most beautiful garden.
What more could anyone ask for?; “But why did I feel alone?”, I ask.
As he spoke to me, I soon fell for his lies as he tangled
and twisted my mind. Yes, he succeeded in convincing me that my father really did not mean what I thought he meant. I soon forgot my father’s words, and I'm not sure, but perhaps my husband was too busy to notice.
Why did I feel so alone? I offered my husband the opportunity to share, to buy, and to bite into the newfound wisdom and truth that I had become exposed to. Was I questioning the decision I had made? Was I hoping that my husband would say no? With not an air of indignity nor sound of rebuke, my husband succumbed to the offering of the stranger and me.
Immediately thereafter, the two of us felt alone, bewitched, and naked.
Indeed, our warm security blanket was replaced with the coldness of guilt.
Indeed, the stranger remained the same; and seeking to gain, he felt no pain.
By then, it was clear to us that all of my father’s plans for us were bound to change.
My father had given us choices and a will of our own, to obey, decide, and to discern. But we failed the test of trust, and a grave lesson we later learned.
My father desired that we choose the good, but in stead, we disbelieved and were deceived. My father was grieved, and he felt greatly bereaved. He loved us dearly, but had no choice but to punish and relieve us of our duties.
cj08172015
Enea's Pope! (2)
I suppose it’s common knowledge
(and not tedious, I hope!)
that two-thirds of the Sacred College
must concur to elect a pope.
With eighteen cardinals gathered,
twelve was the number to get.
They were nervous, preoccupied, lathered,
for there was no favourite yet.
Day One turned out quite indecisive,
Calindrini accomplishing five:
Enea’s vote, far from derisive –
his five kept his prospects alive.
D’Estouteville’s position was healthy,
and he lobbied for all he was worth.
It helped to be fabulously wealthy,
and promise the voters the earth.
“I don’t want to sound like a critic,”
(thus whispered d’Estouteville in private)
“but look at him – pauper, arthritic.
There’s something you need? I’ll contrive it.”
The gist of the cardinal’s sermon
was that Enea worshipped Apollo,
and was anyway almost a German,
dire consequences were certain follow.
A cardinals’ caucus at midnight
convoked by the frenchified faction
made it seem that the tertium quid might
take a piece of the Rouenais action.
D’Estouteville himself was a teller
when they voted the very next day:
they’d do better to pick Helen Keller –
one of Enea’s votes “went astray”.
Now Enea’s on nine votes, and leading:
a silence descends on the throng.
D’Estouteville is far from conceding:
this process could well be prolonged.
In silence they sit in the Sistine,
feckless, faineant, forlorn
(the chapel itself is still pristine:
Michelangelo hasn’t been born.)
A shout comes from Borgia (Rodrigo,
that’s Cesare’s father-to-be),
“I’m switching to you, mi amigo!”
That’s one of the necessary three!
And then speaks Tebaldi of Naples:
“I’ll go with Siena as well!”
It’s looking decidedly papal,
as friends of d’Estouteville can tell!
One vote is now all that is needed,
one vote and he’s pontifex max:
one vote and he’s finally succeeded:
one vote is the one thing he lacks!
Colonna gets up from his cushion:
d’Estouteville and chums know the score:
unseemly, the shovin’ and pushin’:
they bundle him out of the door.
The spectacle can’t be called splendid.
“Enea, I’m making you pope!”
The greasy pole’s now been ascended:
It’s time for the slippery slope!
at times the soul gets clenched
in an unspeakable grief
in a demoniac grip, it chokes and wriggles
the pain of being stung by a dozen scorpions
or hacked piece by piece by an axe
tremulous grows the heart, over love that is spent
seeks in vain to revive the joy that is gone
strains to lift the veil that shrouds the soul
wrestles to come out from the desolate cave of black solitude
the more it struggles to wade through the mess
the deeper it plunges into the morass of despair
clung on talons of excruciating pain,
wailing a long wail of never being understood
the mind goes berserk
whirling and churning.
anytime the volcano might erupt,
emitting pyroclastic cloud
with the asphalt lava spilling out,
blowing life with its violent breath.
yet, have succeeded in putting on
a merry visage during day
laughs with the laughing crowd
but retires at night to the solitary cell
to release, in agonized sighs, the stifling anguish
and soak the pillow in a flood of tears
how long can one seek to hide oneself
in the cover of vapid cheerfulness…..?
why try to save the face when there is no face to lose?
sure the fig leaf will one day fall off
to stand in stark nakedness before the world aghast
April.2.2022
This or That, Vol.11.Poetry Contest
Topic-Fig Leaf
Sponsor- Edward Ibeh
I need to get a box to hold the pieces of my life together. Because they're falling out of place awfully fast. Every day I look into the mirror and ask myself, how much longer can all this possibly last?
Does it even really matter anymore?
It seems like the more I try the harder I fail.
So why not just ignore my problems?
It's so easy to pretend that they are not there.
I close my eyes and just keep running,
But where ever I go, there they wait.
Should I lose my life, or take one?
Tell me what difference would it make.
I tire of this endless struggle, especially while the consequences keep building up.
By the time it's finally over I will have succeeded
At once again royally ing up.
I stop to backtrack my fading footprints,
Looking for where I wandered off.
All I ever wanted was to be happy...
I guess happiness lies further off than I thought.
I slowly lost my faith
Joy I now believe is just a myth.
I've searched my entire life and have found nothing. Like chasing a Unicorn-
They don't exist!
You titillate my senses
Every time you stare at me,
I feel losing my balances
All gems in your eyes I see.
You possess tantalizing eyes,
Like diamonds in the sky;
Don’t attempt to look at me thrice,
You’re in love…you can’t deny.
I’m completely captivated
You know my only weakness
In your wooing you succeeded,
You’re getting my final “yes”.
As we hold each other’s hand,
Happily gliding on snow;
Kissing me all around,
Diamond remnants-all aglow.
Dec. 31, 2013 5.15pm
by Leonora G.
Fourth Place
Contest: A Diamond Remnants
Judged: 1/14/14
Sponsor: Poet Gail Angel Doyle
I will be closing the year 2013 with a romantic poem;))). Happy New Year 2014 to all! Wishing you all the best of HEALTH, LOVE, PEACE, HAPPINESS AND SUCCESS!
Distantly wandering ~ a meadow-vast lake
Refusing to let the consumption of my heart break
Icy cold tears frost over my face & cheeks
Being lost for weeks and for weeks
Broken down ambition ~ too weak to fight
Suddenly she appears like an angel in my life
Opening the reality of a bond between girls
Determined to create a relationship that unfurls
Aimlessly waiting for years for her soul
And craving the right girl to rock-n-roll
Possessing her thoughts, body, and mind
I think I found you, baby, this time
Exhausted from search and it be nothing but fight
Finally found a woman as a possible wife
Golden and glowing ~ she inhabits my body
With limitless ways to make her happy and naughty
Be responsible to care for her ~ now that she's mine
It's been an unpleasant search ~ now it is time
To live by my side in a big world of us
Off the bat we've succeeded our series of trust
To hold her naked some days through the night
In my head bursting bright sparks of light
Kissing her lips and holding her waist
Feeling her warmth ~ memorizing her taste
Protection from the unworthy who will try and take my place
So many memories to create ~ not a second to waste
Here we are - both you and I...
Yet to ask each other why.
Why, that is, our combination
May result in conversation.
The two of us - complete strangers...
Potentially abled exchangers.
Upon more magnified inspect,
Do the two of us expect
More or less of first impression?
For now, this is unknown confession.
We verbally commence the meeting...
Extend our hands in formal greeting.
A confident and firm handshake
Suggesting what we each will take
When our talk comes to its closure...
Composure, or maybe exposure?
This is set aside for now
As who, what, where, when and how
Becomes the basis of our blog...
Communication - dialogue.
Underway now - that of which...
Our information, thick and rich
Is swapped without the need to smother...
Conversing - one to the other.
Throughout its course, I play detective...
Looking into your perspective.
The further our talking is travelled,
More of which we are unravelled.
Common interests, histories...
Perceptions, other mysteries.
I get to know of you much better
In person more than a letter
Could outline our situation
With its grammar and dictation.
Of our meeting in the present,
I view these moments as pleasant.
Our mutual respect is there...
This, we are both well aware.
Without the thought to criticize
Each other, we can summarise.
Here we are now - you and I...
In warm embrace of our goodbye.
We can say we are exchangers
Now more than previous strangers.
We took the time in our attempt
To not leave anything exempt.
More a fusion than confusion...
Our departures, the conclusion
Of a strong collaboration
Succeeded in its conversation.
Every one of my five brothers
and I strive to create harmony.
Our lives are lived in parallel
yet at times we work alone.
Other times we play well together -
unity and coexistence is our goal.
A chord can bring us together
into a rich and soulful harmony.
We often seek concord in parallel
so no one is left alone;
expressive music is our end goal,
a desire shared by six brothers.
Django Reinhardt, who often played alone,
had mastery over all us brothers,
as do Los Romeros playing together,
creating a family of classical harmony.
Andrés Segovia with his ambitious goal,
worked with composer Rodrigo in parallel.
Great rock guitarists with their goal
of playing fantastic music in parallel:
Lennon, McCartney, and Harrison playing together;
the Eagles soaring in amazing harmony;
Clapton; Jimmy Page; the Allman Brothers;
or Hendrix playing incendiary solos alone.
Bring your friends, sisters and brothers
to a concert - don't come alone!
You'll meet people who have parallel
interests to your own. Dance together
as music plays. Our common goal
should be brotherhood and world harmony!
Each string of a guitar, alone
can make a melody. But harmony
exists only by functioning in parallel,
cooperatively. Let this be our goal:
for human beings to work together,
recognizing that we are all brothers.
My brothers and I aren't alone.
In parallel lives, our main goal
is to work together, making harmony.
[Sestina]
// A sestina is a non-rhyming poem consisting of six six-line stanzas and a three-line envoy. The last word of each line in stanza 1 is repeated in all of the following stanzas. The envoy contains all six repeating words. To emphasize the theme of "Six Relatives", I have also made each line exactly 6 words. Additionally, I began stanzas 1-6 with the letters of the six guitar strings: E, A, D, G, B, E. One final note: the "ambitious goal" of Andrés Segovia and Joaquín Rodrigo was to make the guitar a respected instrument in the classical repertoire. They succeeded!//
Written 16 Nov 2020
War criminals
Is Putin a war criminal if judged by the western criteria
that makes him, along with George Bush and Tony Blair
war criminals; who can forget Falluja, where thousands
of innocent people were killed in their homes in a hail
of bullets, no one thought of saving the civilians.
I think of Libya the NATO/USA/Britain reduced to a failed
state in the thirst of killing Gadhafi, the eccentric despot
who had done more to bring Libya into a modern country
than anyone else had dreamed of.
He brought water to an arid state and made it green.
There was a peace talk brokered by South Africa, were
Gadhafi offered to resign but rejected because
we wanted him dead, and we succeeded.
The western powers have now managed to make a short
war into a long one using Zelensky as a frontman.
It is Putin they want dead; nothing else matters, not
the death of thousands of civilians caught up in this mayhem.
But for NATO or Brussels risking the life of their own people
carrying out a policy that eventually will bring Europe to her
knee by hunger and frost; may they all be damned.