Long Suffer Poems
Long Suffer Poems. Below are the most popular long Suffer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Suffer poems by poem length and keyword.
Animals domesticated for the good of man
A civil society can understand
Despicable crimes not exaggerated
The mistreatment of animals that is tolerated
Animal horters, puppy mills cruelty so very real
How can man not understand
The plight these animals suffer should be band
Animals are found in despicable condition
Which demand man’s full recognition
Some live in such a deplorable state
Their last days in fear and wait
The crimes committed against the innocent
Faultless and guiltless they wait for deliverance
Demanding laws harsher, must be made
For animals who have persistently paid
Written April 29, 2013
What do you do
When you see through
All of the pictures that you keep on the wall
All of the people that will come to the ball
Be the light in my basement
You came in when the day went
When the moon pierced the sky
And the night wondered why
You lit up from my fright
Be the bright of my light, tonight
Give birth to my form, we mourn
That you got out of town
But you're still hanging around
To suffer just like the rest
Of us who shoot up in jest
You'll go a-holding your chest
In the mirror of a window pane
I can see their pain
Your heartache has made mine real
How do we continue to steal
From the ones without meal
Breathe fire into the steel
Confirm my reality
My invisibility
Has become surreal to me
So I litter the walls with lights
In hopes that I might
See the sun rise tonight
Moloch preys on the young
And on those who have won
Into the mystic we might
Die from losing our sight
From flaring into the sun
Staring down the barreling gun
I thought I knew them before
All the eyes on the wall
Follow without hesitation
Like faces at a train station
That keep whistling by
Not one wonders why
The world has been torn apart
Before the kids could start
To piece it back together
Could a puzzle get better
Should we re-imagine this earth
Or should we not weigh its worth
What do you do
When you're through
Counting the cattle as they go by the door
Keeping a carpet that's so thick on the floor
The notes from piano keys tap on my heart
This music reaches a sad place, a very sad place
Where tears hide and heartbeats hold painful things
My mind tries to sort out so much that hurts
Some things are stuck and rusted from the past
The rest is right here, happening right now
To acknowledge, but also to distance from
To grieve, but not get stuck in any dark hole
To keep on surviving, when that has been a theme in life
And to still know my limits, when there is much to do
To have faith in the darkness as past and present merge
I can still see, I can still be thankful and I may still rest
I watch my friend suffer and I look back on others I couldn’t save
The tears begin to fall from my flooded heart and I tell myself,
I’m cleansing once again, once again, skies will clear
I must be alright, I will be alright, peace will return again
Heidi Sands
5/5/22
Today is a day we must always commemorate…a day we remember the Holocaust…a tragic time in world history when 6 million Jewish lives were lost.
We think of the horrors they endured…if we listen we can still hear their screams…and we think of the millions of other lives lost to the brutality of the Nazi regime.
Why is it we must remember a time so horrible…a time filled with sorrow and regret? Why is it we teach about a time in the world many people would like to forget?
We remember and we teach about the Holocaust…remembering the who, what, how where and when…with the hope that by teaching the horrors…they will never happen again!
It seems fitting that this anniversary should fall today…at this exact time …on this exact date…when some people are trying to ignore the atrocities that occurred in our own country’s history and teach only what they think makes us look great.
Willing to ignore instead of learn from our country’s treatment of the Native Americans, Blacks, Japanese, LGTBQ+…anyone who thinks and acts differently…
willing to ignore what actually happened….in an attempt to rewrite our history
When I think of today and what some people are attempting to do…I am shocked…I’m ashamed…I’m appalled and my mind bounces between the words of James Baldwin and Simon Wiesenthal…
Simon Wiesenthal…a Holocaust survivor wrote:
For evil to flourish it only requires that good people do nothing….
and as I watch some of our past atrocities being forgotten or erased
I remember James Baldwin who said:
Not everything that is faced can be changed
but nothing can be changed until it is faced..
America has never been a great country…if you really look back at our history….
But by exploring and discussing our good deeds…and bad…
I imagine, one day, we could be.
Until then there will be citizens of this country…who will never fulfill their dreams….
who will continue to be mistreated and abused…
who will continue to suffer…and scream.
V.
And finally for this poem,
though not for your real life,
is the inborn curse of violence,
the stubborn need to fight.
It’s one some claim to ‘leave behind,’
but we know that’s a joke,
the evil always lurks out there,
targeting decent folk.
And the truth is these criminals
have never feared police,
since they're either in charge of them,
or strike when none are seen.
When evil comes, you’re on your own,
cops always will be late,
and if you’re not willing to fight
quite grim will be your fate,
And if you have a family
then they will suffer too,
women were not designed for war,
it all falls upon you.
I know that this seems quite unfair,
what sane man would risk death?
And countless fools preach ‘other ways,’
those fools just waste their breath,
human nature cannot be changed,
time has left little doubt,
no amount of schooling or church
drives all the evil out.
There always will be those who steal,
those who murder and rape,
no ‘progress’ can defeat this scourge,
some are just built to hate.
The only thing such people fear,
that makes their mad thoughts grim,
are those strong enough to hurt them,
those who won’t be victims.
The home-owner good with his gun,
the dad there with his kids,
evil takes pause when seeing them
sees failure if they did,
A man must be a predator,
but one cool and controlled,
so when the wolves come sniffing blood
they fear us and go cold.
It’s when we think we’re 'beyond that,'
when we give up our guns,
when the threat of force isn’t there
that we face evil ones.
It is only in such a state
that they came have free reign,
they’re held back by the threat we pose,
reptile fear of pain.
And much as we hate to think this
in there here ‘modern times’
seeing the dark truths amongst us
is what makes adult minds.
Is it to lubricate and protect my eyes from your flow?
Or do you intend to bring out my joy, sorrow, and rage?
By your stream-like flow to others, you show my grief, I know.
A parrot in your cage, with chilies of care, I engage
What do I suffer from? Migraine? Obsessed teeth? Kidney stones?
Is endometriosis the cause of your constant pour?
Owing to my old age, is there brokenness in my bones?
Has Destiny dug in me her perpetual pain bore?
On the death of my mother, at my innocence, I smiled.
I knew my dad's death well. Lo! You, like a waterfall, fell.
Does this mean that consciousness or awareness, that's hill-piled?
Together with you, I've many a tailless tale to tell...
Everyone who sheds you says, 'I got relieved of my pain".
Who in life, yet, I don't know, wants to cry again... again...
Have you ever seen a mother?
Watch her child suffer
Requesting mercy as she kneels
Trying to understand higher power's deals
Three hours later her child comes to peace
When the child is taken and declared deceased
A strong surge can be felt in her body
Hearing the words, “you were a good mommy”
It was spirituality that came into her soul
During a time when attitudes were so cold
Have you ever seen a mother?
Watch her child suffer
Giving birth was a happy time
Cuddling the creation proclaiming, “It is mine”
But trouble soon brewed
Everything was not innocent and new
Her child was different from the others
But still she was the child’s mother
Staying vigilant was the missionary duty
Hoping the best for what she called her beauty
Have you ever seen a mother?
Tend to her child when they suffer
It brings out a loving bond
That has a quiet calm
Answers do come
And internal battles are won
Since the two are not done
Whatever the plight
Pick up this granted strength giving for the fight
And use all its might
When searching for a special light
Then in the end
The truth will defend
A mother who watched her child suffer
Asking in prayer ‘should I have another?’
There is a common remedy for those who wish to sleep
They recommend to close your eyes and count imagined sheep
Just lie down and think of them lined up in single file
And count them bouncing one by one over a farmer's stile.
Sheep are very docile many hopeful sleepers find
And easily controlled by a less than wakeful mind
But yet there is a number who find the task a toll
Which does not help them sleep at all, because they lose control.
Their sheep are unco-operative: they do not jump on cue
They're likely to do other things that sheep just should not do
They play leap-frog and some hang-glide or tunnel underground
Or make the counting difficult by shuffling around.
So, many lie awake at night and hear the ticking clock
Counting down the hours as they struggle with their flock
All alone they battle long through till the morning's light
The sad and unsuccessful sleepless shepherds of the night.
Barely awake they suffer by the sleepless light of day
By night they try to slumber while their sheep cavort and play
Their woollen nerves warped, wefted, on fragile mental looms
They alternate sleep therapy with doctor’s waiting rooms.
So, if you are the fortunate and get your eight hours sleep
Be grateful for your fortune and your well disported sheep
And give a thought for others, who are not so kindly blessed
Whose sheep are so unruly and whose sleep is so distressed.
#Please_wait_a_moment
Please don't rush to here where I stand, the flames still rages, I fear you might suffer blisters,from fire you lit not, please don't ask why for I might respond with tears, these floors may flood, you need not be here to drown. Please wait, this door behind me still refuse to close, I need time and strength to pull it into its right hinges, so I can correctly turn towards your direction
Please don't trust me, I need to trust myself first , please don't love me, I need to learn again how to love myself first, please wait just this moment, I need to learn first how to wipe first my tears before I can wipe yours too, please I need to make sense of my own thoughts, my own emotions, my own feelings, for everything still rough and formless, it's a mess, you need not to witness, please wait
Please don't rush me, for I may trip a fall, and fail to stand up again, for my bones having fell more , please don't ask me too much questions for I may choke in answering some and start loosing my breath and tears mixing amid, please allow me to breath, to sigh and most to heal, so my wounds won't be contagious to you, please wait, I plea
Please walk slow towards where I stand, these rough patches around me, need a spade first to be cleared, so you be not prickled by thorns you planted not. Wait! just a moment, rush not to love me, it's all broken pieces , all bones and blood gathered on my chest, it's all still a fresh crime scene, please wait, I beg
#Poetic_Ink
Principled or vile, honorable or depraved,
we all view the same stars,
suffer the same dread.
The richest minds among us were
all once bedwetters.
The puerile erect walls like Trump’s fortification,
they imagine iron and concrete impervious to the
ghosts of culture and language,
never recognizing the absurd futility,
never once realizing their enslavement
to their own defenses.
Here we are conjoined,
the tormented with their tormentors,
the marginalized with the entitled
awash in the night long freezing rain
culminating in a new morning light
where we yearn to find new hope.
No one has reformed.
No one is converted
and yet, no one is the same.
The pages of days flip past.
We find great promise discarding
our malignancy of mind,
the dark ages we left behind.
We see a future as we climb free
from our climate of abhorrence, the
mind games of conspiracy,
though we still contend with our bigotry,
our racism, our dogmatism, paradoxically,
we also find our capacity to love unconditionally.