Long Swift and sure Poems
Long Swift and sure Poems. Below are the most popular long Swift and sure by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swift and sure poems by poem length and keyword.
An unexplored Adventure !!!
I know what will be !!!
There is an emptiness, creating – depression – a hole
that a deep sadness fills – thoughts of it, take their toll
on an alone heart that seeks a destiny with so much more.
The choices one makes, become the hands that close a door
on all that hope was crafting of - those elusive, sublime dreams.
All that is, all that is felt, all that one sees, all that could be, it seems,
comes down to sadness, emptiness, heartache guided by the hand of fate.
Fate guides these words - these feelings, the voices of the gods do state,
that it will be the courses upon oceans, seas and all the rivers of life.
And so, as end days near, what will prevail will be blinded strife
who’s tears cut deep into the heart, like a surgeons, keen knife,
removing emotions, feelings, memories, and without a notion
as to why ?, things are in a void, at a standstill, no motion
left to carry forward, give one hope, give one a reason
from one loved- in the game of love – in this season ?
I feel like a dissipating, fading, disappearing man.
Becoming invisible as my departing hour – soon at hand –
will open a door through which – as swift and sure as it can –
all I sought will run to another, and there, alone, will I stand,
once again, with heart in hand, without hope, the dream is dead
and only photos, experiences, memories, heartache to fill my head.
I will always remember the joys, the pleasures. and all that was good,
All the walks, the talks, the adventures, all the pain, where we once stood
in the silhouette of the others shadow, the others glow, what we came to know
of the secrets that make up you and make up me, secrets that seldom show
their veiled faces to ourselves, yet we have told the other some truths
as we have come to see them, having been born in our youth.
Where has she gone ?, her beauty I have touched twice.
I have to say, if I could every day, how nice.
I will – my Dear – cherish every tender morsel !, until the end.
I will – my Dear – always be ( if nothing else ) your forever friend.
B. J. “A” 2
July 15th 2007
The sweet neck of her life came adorned with dazzling jewels of the ages;
jewels imbued with holy virtues, long before she was born.
She rose, alone, Venus veiled above a sparkling sea,
her love light flashing wherever she gazed.
As she spun her cosmic spiral, a tiger, hungry with anger and bitterness,
tore at the veil, hoping to claim victory—fire and passion.
Each time she dipped her head, trying to free herself from the ships of ancient
torments that lay anchored at her throat, the tiger roared for more,
devouring jewel upon jewel—fire upon fire, passion upon passion.
She lay, alone, her carotid adornment shortened by the tiger’s every move,
her virtues struck down until she was left grasping at a choker
‘round her throat, her life soon to end.
Then, in the billowing clouds of her torment, she saw Diana rising from the sea.
She stood on an iridescent ivory shell, her arrow poised to strike.
The tiger raged, but could not pierce the clouds.
A red fury filled with fire and passion shot from its hell-born eyes;
its massive jaws spewed hot saliva that set the sea on fire.
The sea itself cried out, “Golden Diana, make your arrow swift and sure;
the world in Venus is quickly fading.
Strike now, the tiger, and restore all aright!”
Even while the prayer was being uttered,
Diana’s aim proved its power as the arrow found the tiger’s heart.
In a flash, Venus was restored,
her long strand of jewels aglow,
the tiger at her side.
Together they stood in a deep, iridescent ivory shell
and made their way out to sea
with a wind that was sure and true.
All was set aright. All was free
as they sailed into the rising moon,
her Venus jewels lighting the way.
Written in contemplation of Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a
Pomegranate, One Second before Awakening, by Salvador Dali. (1944)
My mother taught me many lessons
First ,about the birds and the bees
Where did I come from mommy?
Oh, I found you in a barrel of Crabs.
Her lessons in decorum were priceless
Walk always with your head held high
But not so high as to drown when it rains.
bless her heart.
She was a stickler for good posture
More so when I wore a new dress
all pretty and frilly
You walk like a drunken spider on spindly legs.
Her lessons in obedience
I’ll always remember
When I say jump, just jump
Don’t ask how high.
She taught me to choose my friends
they should reflect class and dignity
True,God said Love your neighbor as yourself
but he didn’t say, walk with the riff- raff on the street.
Her description of my hair left me baffled
I thought it was always neat
Looks as if birds have been picking out your hair
To build their nests, she often said.
She taught me to be a power to be reckoned with
With words I was to hear often
I brought you into this world
And I can take you out.
To mom, silence was a golden rule
Never ask why just do as I say
Or with one slap
I will turn your face to the back of your head.
My speech was another area she paid attention to
When I spoke her comment came swift and sure
you speak as if you have a hot potato in your mouth.
Lesson on bravery left me in tears
On the day I broke my arm
Am I going to die, mommy? I asked
Yep, like a flea squashed between your fingernails.
She replied.
I still remember these lessons, and smile
I know too that she did this to help me cope
She was the best, my mother.
(Dedication: For Ann with Love.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ann of my days,
Days that fan cheer,
Cheer weaves each play,
Play that lives here.
Style wears a smile,
Smile that funds cheer,
Cheer lives each mile,
Mile where love piles.
Grace wears a face,
Face of fond light,
Light shines a trace,
Trace of fine sight.
Love shows just how,
How lovely sees,
Sees truth right now,
Now that must be.
Here in these grounds,
Grounds of time past,
Past that goes round,
Round and round fast.
There in those trace,
Trace now and here,
Here in this space,
Space beyond fear.
Swift and sure days,
Days and nights spread,
Spread with light rays,
Rays that purge dread.
Quest in full bloom,
Bloom in sweet chimes,
Chimes that fill room,
Room in sure mime.
Words loiter here,
Here with good grace,
Grace leaps to cheer,
Cheer fronts this space.
Waltz to the tune,
Tune in to bliss,
Bliss in sand dunes,
Dunes in a gist.
Rhymes in good time,
Time that distills,
Distills fond chimes,
Chimes that reveal.
Line after line,
The music floats,
Floats to define,
Define this boat.
Start ushers end,
End frames the start,
Start to prime trend,
Trend with sure heart.
Leon of my nights,
Nights that flood poise;
Poise in the light,
Light that springs voice.
Leon Enriquez
10 October 2014
Singapore
There was a slight rise,
the shooting was steady,
ambush ready,
bullets in the air,
machine gunners drawing fire,
taking risks, making dares,
and many deaths for hire,
mangled bodies piled up,
so many soldiers littered the ground,
and bombs scarred the sky,
God’s anger mounting higher,
as he watches his children die,
mothers’ voices sounding frantic,
strained,
feelings and emotions drained,
life pained.
God made a gesture of dismissal,
almost as if he wanted to give up,
there was so much violence,
spilling over in his spiritual cup.
God could barely contain his fury,
he knew that no man has ever achieved immortality,
and no man rejoiced from death,
as he watches the strong destroy,
and the weak suffer the most,
and when he tried to offer hope,
mortals turn their backs on the Holy Ghost.
God knows that he cannot launch an attack,
although it would be swift and sure,
but it would not be right,
and it would not be pure,
so the suffering humans will never endure,
as they would have God,
tried, convicted, and punished,
for their wickedness.
They will take their turn,
as they watch holiness burn,
for all the evil men churn,
and in God’s wickedness
they fail to learn.
Be Not Afraid
Life’s full of real mysteries and unending challenges,
yet, never despair, rather always be resolute and bold.
At times, some people in varied situations, always
thrive on playing to the certain fears of other people.
Sad to say, it just seems that some people want to be
“Human Creatures,” vice being polite “Human Beings.”
What to do? Do nothing. The actions of those who want
to be rude and nasty reflect the reality of who they are.
Being kind, well-mannered, and always polite does, in
fact, play positively to the “Better Angels of Our Nature.”
In the end, it all turns out to be truly a personal choice
concerning the type of person that one wants to be.
Choose wisely, I say, for the human experience is rife
with those who torment others and are always rude.
A swift and sure judgment at the end of “Life’s Run”
awaits those who are like this, and so, Be Not Afraid!
And remember that some true version of “Dante’s Inferno”
may truly await those who choose to be Human Creatures!
For them, I say, “Good Luck” dodging those hellish flames!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
November 9, 2020 (Didactic)
I stand before the Grim Reaper, unafriad and ready.
My head facing forward, my back striaght, my hands steady.
A low hum comes from the cloaked face, two lights for eyes,
His arms lift, his robe blows in the wind, his head tilts toward the skies.
His scythe comes swinging down upon my back, swift and sure.
My knees buckle from the hefty blow, my vision becomes a blur.
I stand back up, look into the face of death itself.
I say, "I do not yet know my purpose, but it isn't complete yet."
"I have faced greater fears than you before, and many more to come."
"Your power is gone, my fear removed."
The Reaper, "One day I will have you, though not today."
"Waste the gift of life, and you will welcome me."
"My real power is when you call upon me, and I do not show."
"I can only take, but you can give."
That is when I found my power over death.
He can only reap, but I can sow.
BLOOD OF GERONIMO
Great Spirit here come I in humble prayer
child of your Bedonkohe blood and line.
I raise my hands to recognize you there
and plea you recognize this heart of mine.
I know you welcome all into your light
And let my way, as through this death I go,
Be swift and sure, if bad or good or right
As certain as blood of Geronimo.
Look! Is my line not tied to what's his past?
And does this not bring us our only choice
To bide amongst the tribe from out our past?
To gather in your light, and raise one voice
Of this, our song, our voices unified
And handed down through time, where we have cried.
...............© Ron Wilson
Another very special Sonnet that just wrote itself through me...where do they come from? And how?
YOU'VE COME TO ME
You've come to me, out from the time of in between
the midnight dark and where first morning light is seen,
in all the wildest dreams of me
I never thought such love could be,
but now love takes me places I have never been;
you've come to me, from dreams that only love can know
and taken me to places only love can go,
although I thought love couldn't be
so swift and sure--you were for me;
and made my life reveal things only love can show.
you've come to me, when least I was expecting you
then made my heart believe some things it never knew,
and then you took the love of me
the love I thought could never be,
and made of me what only love can do.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa
Form:
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
You've come to me, out from the time of in between
the midnight dark and where first morning light is seen,
in all the wildest dreams of me
I never thought such love could be,
but now love takes me places I have never been;
you've come to me, from dreams that only love can know
and taken me to places only love can go,
although I thought love couldn't be
so swift and sure--you were for me;
and made my life reveal things only love can show.
you've come to me, when least I was expecting you
then made my heart believe some things it never knew,
and then you took the love of me
the love I thought could never be,
and made my life a joy, as only love can do.