Long Unpretentious Poems

Long Unpretentious Poems. Below are the most popular long Unpretentious by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unpretentious poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Fall Down On Your Knees

Fall down on knees so humble
Reverent of this awesome God
Who gave us sun and moon
Along with the shimmering stars

Fall down on knees so meek
Willing to give Him full adoration
For all that He is – love and hope
Peace that surpasses our grasp
Of what is meant by this peace
Peace that breathes tenderness

Fall down on knees so meek
Unpretentious and filled with faith
A knowing that God is so good
He brings joy, hope and love 
From His home on high, where
We will go when we die – as long
As we believe in His Son, Jesus Christ

Fall down on knees so dutiful
With prayers from hearts who know
That God above is the answer to us
Bringing love that is without conditions
Love that is alive, dancing like fire
Bringing out the good in our souls

Fall down on knees so considerate
Whispering of yearnings, needs, beliefs
That color the heart in hues of light
Soft colors so brilliant they remind
His love is like a vibrant insight
Into the heart who knows His mercy

Fall down and say a sincere prayer
Sigh with the comfort of knowing
He has come to us bringing true love
And the answer to our hope for a Savior
A King who would bring complete redemption
Jesus, the answer who will deliver us!

Fall down on knees of sincere worship
Know that God is love and Love is God
Listen to the wisdom of His gentle kiss
Blessing our lives with inspiration, a gift
Of knowing the Savior is the solution
To a sin debt that left us in the dark
Where even the sun couldn’t send it’s light

Yet, Jesus shined a hope stronger than the sun
He gave us the salvation to bring us home
Eternally, with love that fills us to overflowing
A love that is warm, wild and welcoming
Love that brings us out of the darkness
With assurance that He is the spark of grace!

Jesus is my everything! – Just have faith


Premium Member A Trail of Contrasts

My present thoughts take me to a distant past that reveals from my busied mind a trail of contrasts. There were three ladies, and I knew them during     my early childhood. There was a lady whose name I never knew, but I shall call her Miss MAYBELL.  Her demeanor befitted one truly 'holier than thou'.  Another lady from my distant past whose name was RENA, and whose
conduct and expressions portrayed her as also 'holier than thou'.  Moreover, RENA was flavored with human personality that gave clues that she was indeed a troubled soul, self-centered, and believed that others owed her three hots and a cot in addition to all the free passes she could muster.                     

What seemed troubling is that I never saw either MAYBELL or RENA smile or laugh.  On the contrary, they seemed always angry, and one did not easily place them in the same sentence with the word love.  I knew not a friend   they ever had, and I suspect if they had enemies, it was of their own creation. Although from him they never learned to love, the only source 0f noble substance that I gained from MAYBELL and RENA is that they had a strong belief in God.                                             

And then there was MARY, out of whose mouth I never heard any mention of God, whether good, bad, or non-existent. But I hasten to say that MARY was most dear and unpretentious. MARY had a heart of love and laughter.  My thoughts of MAYBELL and RENA bring nothing of a redeeming value.  On the contrary, every thought of MARY brings smiles and inspiration.

050321PS
Form: Verse

Premium Member Poetry Soup

*Image of POETRY SOUP logo/avatar.

Poetry Soup

Presence of a plethora of patron poetesses and poets, Welcome!
Openhanded optimism is offered.
Exciting endeavors of extending enrolments blessed the multitudes.
Translate and transcribe text, and transpose them and be of good cheer.
Read and review others, and be blessed.
Yearning yesterday yields today, blessed am I.

Satisfaction soothes and savors me.
Only Oneness am I true.
Universal and unpretentious am I.
People pleasing penner!

2022 August 09
*3rd Place*
POETRY SOUP BEYOND ITS NAME
~~Beata Agustin: Judged 2022 September 25
Form: Name

Premium Member Eye Of The Eye

What is that awareness by which each body-mind feels alive and becomes aware?—Unseeking Seeker

The underlying of dog-eat-dog world, 
dialogue used to defuse what’s within,
unveiling characteristics, plots and tension 
Wilty pleasures of ha ha ha’s thin skin 
the restless measured writing in prose 
adding realism with metaphor tags
Anxiety insomniacs expose egocentricities, 
loyal coterie, and owning denial lags 
In what’s plain and unembellished, ordinary, 
unpretentious loud screams heard
See me, feel me, read me, 
clinging to ink, expecting gold
Unadorned yet in an uptight hold 

Give me Kodachrome and enhance my view of life!
A brighten-filter emulsifies, nothingness’ behind  
Breathe in, pause, exhaling into wake-sleep 
I go beyond the sky and stars, the earth moon trails, 
minus space junk’s desires, cheap mind-litter
I am Artemis ll, yet I’ve no mind-space or time
Without a shell without a conch, 
I'm the propeller in a solar system
accelerating into orbital grace in a single launch
Earth appears with green auroras and zodiacal light,
A home planet, a breathtaking sight,
a sapphire hovering in velvet 
The lexicon of language, the portrayal of image,
Off the cuff spontaneous levels roaming

Aware with deep breaths and where nothing nests behind 
I seek refuge, I speak well-spoken, I’ve guidance unbroken
I make merits in holy days through alms, 
offerings in namaskar and in mantras healing verses
I maintain these days, I Am this moment 
Eye of the eye, nothing behind me coerces
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Justice Is Blind

The distinguished judge sat on the bench for many, many years.
He was highly esteemed and loved by his associates and his peers.
With great dignity he donned the robe of his honorable profession,
And with clarity and common sense made his rulings at each session.

The challenge of the law since a young attorney was his passion.
For those washed up on perilous shoals, he had great compassion.
Nervous young lawyers were blessed to have him hear their case.
He treated them with ego-boosting dignity and abundant grace.

An unpretentious county judge was all he ever aspired to be,
Upholding his solemn oath to serve the people of his community.
Dispensing justice fairly to the rich and penniless as well,
Interpreting the law as he saw it and in this he did excel!

He scrupulously observed the Constitution and the tenets it decreed,
And espoused The Golden Rule as a way to fully succeed.
He cautioned youngsters of the challenging life that lay ahead,
And to learn from mistakes and pursue productive lives instead.

His long-time and ever faithful Bailiff saw to his every need,
Taking care of all details no matter how small the deed.
Blind justice was a vision in his mind as he balanced the scale.
You see, the judge was legally blind, working with the aid of braille!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Form: Rhyme


Hi Yam Ma Min Na Muse Sing Papa

hull loo from the rip tide 'o this eastern sea board
of these united states - no always in a chord
with each other - sum give others hoard
unlike meself, an additional pray 2 zee lord
boot i - cap'n my captain crunchy kangaroo moored

by dental floss tend 2b agnostic n feel 
   charles darwin scored 
with his theory of eve a lou shun - 
   ass i attest held captive by zoological ward.

this veritable unknown taboo screw sir o'er the net
    offered his semi best
width cheers n hmm...tables for any guest
that might stop by at woods edge motley fool doth jest
   and ideally nada bee a stinging pest.

spectacular quasi moat toe skinny dipping 
like honey dripper preyed purview 
while The Idler Wheel Is Wiser than the Driver of the Screw
manned by horton, whom hears a hoo 
and Whipping Cords Will Serve You 

More than Ropes Will Ever Do
respond if the spirit doth strike
or...tell me to take a hike
along the boulevard o broken dreams
   down by the weathered nether land housed dick van dyke.

hens with roosting intuition, this stranger can c
your aura, dogma, karma, patina, persona, uvula 
   exudes the potential for glee
perhaps even for...me
ordained princess, quite rational, sensible, thoughtful, 
   unpretentious, vivacious, wise, witty, xyz...

Premium Member Realization

Who gives thoughts?
Who gives emotions?
Who detects stimulus?
Are they a result of very own perceptions and interpretations?
Do they come from incomplete information stored in memory creations?
‘Mind’ is its name
Its job is to converse ceaselessly driving one insane
Its nature is to have internal dialogue of judgments over and over again
Who is the observer of the mind?
Who can watch train of thoughts running so wild? 
Who is the driver of the train?
Who controls it?
Who can put breaks to it?
Understanding the difference between the observer and the mind, brings release
Watching thoughts float by like clouds, brings ease 
Accepting instead of suppressing, makes it unpretentious
Taking deep breaths, reduces overwhelming emotions and concerns
Being aware of the moment closes gaps between past and future
Practicing gratitude helps appreciate life and it's nature
Form: Prose

Premium Member Serenade

 
Written: February 05, 2024
            _____________________________________________

On twilit roads as dusk falls,
from rivers to towers and walls,
when lilting rhythms call,
a gleaming steed sailed.
on pearl-grey pinions, and held,
as the aroma of willow draws.
tumble toward the ground.
through warm beams.
and anodyne smell.
 
Under the mast of a rusting ship,
over a dazzling web of water and light,
I'm excited to charter out of the bay,
In a silver chariot,
on chrysolite mirrors and carried,
where cinnabar vapor entices,
float gently to the ground,
with cheerful smiles,
and sensual breath,
bright polish—sun fell,
busters grab and break boards.

And tempests rumble and thunder,
In an iron chariot, ferried,
on clods of lava, and carried,
where cinnabar vapor beguiles,
swinging unpretentious,
with savage smiles,
and smoldering breath.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member I'M Normal, Get Over It

I’m normal, get over it!

I don’t wear women’s clothes
Pout my lips or paint my toes
I don’t eat twenty cakes a week
Or do a selfie and show my cheek
I haven’t tatts all over my body
And crying all day’s not my hobby
I don’t have a fashionable label
I don’t believe all I watch on cable
I wasn’t bullied at secondary school
I don’t wear sandals and a cagoule
I never show my feminine side
My hard drive has nothing to hide
I haven’t got a flag as far as I know
I don’t like people who call me bro
I’ve never kissed a man or petted a pet
I’ve done nothing I really regret
I haven’t a beard, I like a shave
I’m perfectly normal, my name's Dave

David Cox 01/09/22
© Dave Cox  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Shelton Washington State

(do enjoy frolicking gently imaginatively)

County seat, of Mason County, 
   Washington, United States
westernmost city on Puget Sound 
   above ground sans tectonic plates

population 9,834 per 2010 census 
   end result from biological mates
maintains commission form 
   of government drafted by mandates.

Shelton served by small steamboats 
   comprising Puget Sound Mosquito Fleet 
Old Settler, Irene, Willie, City of Shelton, 
   Marian, Clara Brown, & S.G. Simpson 
   logging, farming, dairying, ranching 
   & oyster cultivation for populace to eat

Simpson Timber Company mill 
   on Puget Sound's Oakland Bay over yon
   dominates landscape of the down
   town area as essential heart beat
Shelton identifies the "Christmas 
   Tree Capital" sold by the ton.

47°12'49?N 123°6'22?W (47.213702, 
   -123.106088) coordinate bench mark
   total area of 5.9 square miles (15 km2), 
   of which 5.6 square miles (15 km2) land 

0.3 square miles (0.78 km2) (5.60%) 
   water laps with an occasional errant shark
   in a pinch captured, processed and canned
a delicacy that fin de siecle bony 
   illegal booty fined by the oceanic narc.

well nigh two and a half decades in the past
   this poet trekked across America 
   beginning in a place called Gap
Pennsylvania  - where stockpile 
   of Amish goodies barely did last
   and vanished in a gingerly snap

of fingers, which necessitated 
   sustenance when van fueled i.e. gassed
   up while myself or the other 
   driver stole a short nap
seduced to sleep by syncopated tires 

   as highway miles passed
   inching closer to youngest sister 
   via this linear transcontinental lap
destination Seattle Washington 
   indigenous iconic statue cast.

Ronald Strickland a fine companion 
(posted bulletin for traveling fine companion
at Hostelling International - Chamounix Falls Mansion
West Fairmount Park),

   and boone story teller to boot
about my age (now five decades plus nine) 
   then trying to rake in some loot
by writing about his travels, 

   yet unpretentious and not able
   to square an Apple pi circle 
   nor, calculate square a root
perhaps one day, I will surprise him 
   with a call and give him a toot.
Form: Epic

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