Long Unguided Poems
Long Unguided Poems. Below are the most popular long Unguided by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unguided poems by poem length and keyword.
The curiosity of babies,
The search in their spirits,
The sojourn in their minds,
The depth in their eyes.
The curiosity of babies,
The search in their steps,
The unravelling in their findings,
The travail in their voices.
The curiosity of babies,
The trouble in their eyes,
The hurt in their gestures
The gloom in their moods.
The curiosity of babies,
The painstaking in their efforts,
They are unyielding in their journeys,
The turbulence in their pursuits.
The curiosity of babies,
The pains in their misdirection,
The scars in their unguided moments,
The losses in random places.
The curiosity of babies,
The joy in their hearts,
The merry in their voices,
The smiles on their faces.
December 15, 2022.
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 23 Poetry Contest,
Mark Toney.
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder
And it changes as the beholders get older
As it ceases thinness and becomes less colder
In the matter resident in the chamber above the shoulder
For every mistake he has suffered a smolder
And his careful reasoning has grown bolder
Oh how sure life is a moulder
I know what it is to melt at the sight
The cleavage wrapped around fabric so tight
And darkness creeps and dilutes the mind's light
Imagination takes off in unguided flight
The desirous persuasion cuffs the man's might
The beckoning conscience slowly loses the fight
One yielding and he is charred with blight
Only to wake up another victim of plight
I know what it is to stray and deem justified
Wrongs whose wrongness remain unclassified
To have excuses modified
To have exceptions fortified
But still the suffering intensified
For we reaped of defiance well defied
Our giving measure came back amplified
Why then won't we be petrified?
Heaven and earth are witnesses
That before us are ills and wellnesses
That though the choice bears offenses
It bears much good and righteousness
That any Godly man harnesses
Though the path narrows and hard-presses
No way else gloriously cloaks and dresses
K. Muitherero.
despite some consideration for the hows, whys, wherefores and whether
unguided, wandering through known universe tying things together
aged in millenniums, centuries, decades, days, hours and minutes
each one existing where all things may be true within their own limits
why, oh why have such tribulations of strife and tears befallen us?
does not the wealth of true human knowledge speak to and through all of us?
must we believe that all human foibles are prone to repetition?
beneficial ideologies should improve the human condition
avoiding pretension, apologies create their own disguises
unannounced guest from the past, guilt arrives in many shapes and sizes
we are fragile beings, unsuited to living beyond our planet
prone to greed, prejudice, long lasting grievances and truth's abandonment
often more than willing to turn into our own worst protagonist
When the rhetoric is vile and spewing forth hate
Fill my heart with love, my mouth kind words to relate
When characters are threatened by accusations
Keep my tongue from promoting the declarations
When news blares of another sniper with a gun
May my sheath, sword, and shield be your majestic Son
When I encounter neighbors burdened and in need
Grant me the blessing to give, not withhold in greed
When humankind divides by status, creed, and race
Help me pursue common ground, guide me by your grace
When conflict and confusion never seem to cease
Make me wise so that I might facilitate peace
When a brother has no one on whom to depend
Cause me to be silent, listen, and be a friend
When loneliness and despair threaten to destroy
Bring me hope, that encouragement I might employ
When I see people broken by sins frustration
Give me boldness to share knowledge of salvation
When they grapple in darkness unguided by sight
Let my life and voice become a beacon of light
When people doubt Bible truth and implication
Allow me patience for a gospel conversation
When stilled in weariness from our earthly story
Deliver heavens hope from the Lord of glory.
One day, one may go
In places we don't want to know
Just assure that your name is written
Embossed in gold shining in heaven.
Yes, I'm preaching
To the soul that's needing repair
I'm talking to all who hears His teaching
To warn a deluge will come so each life may spare.
The world is delicate right now
Rumors of Armageddon is creeping
I do hope Moscow show love somehow
So we can live a life we want for keeping.
Somehow Nostradamus has more to say
Than the Political Analyst wants to debrief
Believers of God and Peace Makers always pray
That all is well that ends well finds a relief.
I have high hope that World Leaders do good
So United Nation not bedeviled and not be unguided
That life may continue to thrive and not be booed
By Devils who want this world to be divided.
The Second Coming is here then
If you just know it in your heart
He is now intervening the affairs of men
We just have to chose our role and take our part.
Nigeria—
a land blessed with brilliance,
minds as sharp as blades,
souls burning with the fire of possibility.
But intellect, unguided,
can wander into shadows—
where drug lords reign,
scammers weave their fragile nets,
and petty thieves trade destiny for dust.
Two hundred and thirty-two million strong,
a people vast as the ocean tide.
Imagine—
if every drop of that tide turned toward light,
toward creation, invention, compassion—
what nation could rival you?
I have traveled far.
In America, I heard the complaints.
In England, the same whisper.
In South Africa, weary voices said,
“We do not want them here.”
And I asked, “But why?”
The answer was one word—
reputation.
Scripture has spoken:
“A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches.” (Proverbs 22:1)
My Nigerian brothers and sisters,
your future does not lie in gold,
nor in fleeting riches,
but in the immortal wealth of honor.
True intelligence is not deception.
It is honesty.
It is compassion.
It is humility.
Yes—life is hard.
But life’s greatness
has never been built by crime.
It is built by integrity,
by the patience to plant seeds,
and the courage to guard them
until harvest.
Nigeria,
the world waits for your rising.
The question remains—
what name will you choose to carry?
LORD, I PANTOUM
Hold me in your divine arms when it’s time to depart
Show me the light to go through the dark alley of strife,
Lord, I pantoum, my humble words flow from the heart
Give me strength to bear the pangs of tormented life.
Show me the light to go through the dark alley of strife
To reach the tranquil meadow gleaming in ethereal bliss,
Give me the strength to bear the pangs of tormented life
So I shall live in this beautiful world of yours in peace.
To reach the tranquil meadow gleaming in ethereal bliss
You’ll glow in my unguided life like the pole star, I know,
So I shall live in this beautiful world of yours in peace,
Your invisible shadow will escort me wherever I’ll go.
You’ll glow in my unguided life like the pole star, I know,
Help me discover the soul and real meaning of living anew,
Your invisible shadow will escort me wherever I’ll go
Till the end of my journey, don’t leave me I’ll tell you.
Help me discover the soul and real meaning of living anew,
Lord, I pantoum, my humble words flow from the heart,
Till the end of my journey, don’t leave me I’ll tell you
Hold me in your divine arms when it’s time to depart.
April 26, 2018.
In my hand the ink drips, commotional emotions at large , patches has failed. Nails and swords, pierce the hearing ear, fussed drops of lethal dose, push me to the edge, for adrenaline chokes my conscience, lead tracks, perforation of daunted untrampled dark corners of my mind, diffuse me from this dungeons, let the near and afar witness and preserve my presence for days have surpassed other unrecorded,
I'm poetic ink, unleash and infiltrate the soul for the present to inherit the marks, was just an ink, they said, a Lil to their knowledge, it's a force to be reckoned with, if today imparts none, Tommorow might be in vain, shallow and void, the ink drips, feed the soul for the mind is unguided and clouded by rage, assert the uncertain, pull me closer for the desire is ravenous.
Hand me the cannon, mass distraction at need, I blow the missiles my presence is not for the immediate but the wild and beastly, human essence at awe, look and listen, read and understand, this ink echoes, wisdom and intellectual, breed the inbred,
my crime would not go unpunished, spilling the ink is my servitude, don't wanna account for my silence, for I'm delegated, to empty this ink before my return, dust to dust, ash to ashes, none must pass here before bowing and acknowledging the spillage
#Poetic_Ink
I somehow missed the river in these woods
Until I heard water dripping onto heavy moss
A whisper in earthen tongues
A hymn sung in deep green
Stepping to the water, I sought a name.
I bled into color and waded into aimless conviction.
The surface interlaced my fingers—playful
The current rose to my shoulders and I felt the waves from within them
Folding around and under my arms
Tracing my back in a dance that mirrored the fluttering of my fingertips
A cool weight against my chest and rising up through my throat
A breath suspended between my lips, unsure of its direction,
Wavered
Until I fell from within like a rain cloud
I poured out as I drank in
Colorless abandon and sparkling mirth
Cloudburst and spring
I stood frictionless on her bed
Finding those softened edges that fit into mine and held me steady
But the trees whispered their scattered ramblings,
And my fingers faltered in the flow,
The earth rose to swallow the current
And the stones shed their last sorrowful rivulets
Back to the road as the fading light greyed
Unanswered and unguided
As before yet renewed
Past the the trailing reaches of the canopy,
The wind sighed at the darkening sky,
But as I left the green I smiled:
Flashes on the horizon and rumblings in the earth
Echoes of her soundless song
I think that after all the words are said
there will be nothing left inside the head
except the deadened space of life’s vacuum
smoke from an un-damped fires ash filled plume.
The muse in full restraints is led away
Its once enlightened fingers led astray
unguided as they drift on whimsy’s wont
a parched and broken wordless dried up fount.
And yet within the darkness of such dread
a longing for the words is slowly bred
seeps into the stones of crumbling wealth
enters the vacant minds with muse-like stealth.
For words must have their moment, must be said
to honor those who found their voice and led.
John G. Lawless
©12/4/2022