Long Venial Poems
Long Venial Poems. Below are the most popular long Venial by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Venial poems by poem length and keyword.
I broke
my proper thumb
within venial borders
a shear from a bygone era
on your
tip of the iceberg
you spread a ruffle in my
bleeding shadows
we steer
the flow
on with the ebb and tideway
cutter with sawtoothed teeth
the scorn
of buoyant tethering
In a state of torpidity
5st PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: March 27, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND 1098 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived. ( Poem inspired by Poet Brian Strand Form)
PHRASIS STREAMS part 5
Inwardly afraid,perfunctory &peripheral
the how&what of our choosing,these
whispered sounds of tender lasting
moments,ever seeking a rationale.
Waiting&wondering to pursue that
inner voice or proven better way.
Such a blinkered view so innocently
implored,innate but creative,these sounds
of words around a theme of venial
mistakes and oversights which knows
no bounds.Now to reason out & uncipher
or turnabout and startover.A chrysalis
changed & completely new,ready for the
fray,never to succumb.Uppermost in
the heart,a life of a different hue each
day a new surprise,soothing selfless&
sincere a challenge ,too sublime.
from my Streams of Consciousness 2003
Listen to me recite this part phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthys chiro
This empty space waits, along a dim marsh
where paramour hides from tints of red dew,
and crackling boughs grip like a whiplash
on venial sins of passion, long the slew.
Her pace quickens to reach Eden's boulder
weighing low, chained by raked emotion
knowing not why ecstacy grips a dare;
as ravens swoop in twilight procession.
The illlicit hours reel a tempting game
venial sins genuflect without relief,
that holy stars warp in foiled cellophane
while gangrene clouds dodge like a hidden thief.
Her secret man appears, bearing moon’s core
to flame clandestine hours into moans' thrill
there, shadows quench for more of rain's downpour
as pleasure and pain mix a tyrst, fulfilled.
Gothic or Romantic Old/ New, Giorgio V.'s Contest
* Gothic Romanticism
by nette onclaud
Her being hangs on two faces of her mind,
one overlooking the essentials and joy of life
as those half-blind eyes reflect what she sees…
is it that Shadow of obsession or power’s lure
where temptation brews her world,
reeling loosely into a charcoaled hole
and onward through the never of her mind?
The other face clutches moths’ kisses
sweet its glow among dawn’s baby roses
as her heart finds kindness in giving
that flavors the potion of her sunlit dance
and onward through the never of her mind.
In agonizing braille of the dark, she crawls
regaining awareness to mold one face,
proud the shadowed one charged with venial sins…
till Michael’s Light tramples a serpent’s pounce
while baby roses lead the way,
a most graceful of all choices in her world.
and onward through the always of her mind.
..................
Anthony Slausen's Gods and Devils Contest
1/18/2015
Love Has No Reply
Love has no reply it just waits-
love has no reply - it just prays-
Love understands- as it hopes
that rage will be quelled-
That the core of your heart will
be overwhelmed-
and overruled-Disenchantments
of the venial mind-are allowable
If you never intend to exhale-
then inhalation is inevitable.
Demons seek company -
Presenting illusions to keep misery
side tracked' in sorrowful elegies
The cardinal mentation-
will automatically
tick, when your tocking and;
Tock when you are ticking.
You came here with no instructions--
Love requires no action
Does not have to reply
No matter the jargon
the meaning of "no “is the same.
Whether you wax or wane,
with wagers parlayed
invest in the" WAIT" like the yellow light
"Spread your bet-green light- keep moving
Not always smart- to bet on a sure thing.
Red light stop wait -think about
what you're thinking of doing-
win, win situation.
Prior truth is not necessary for
what is "yet to be believed"
Permanent solutions
should never be applied to a
temporary condition.
The efficaciousness of the syringe as a method in seeking answers to concepts is horribly ineffective.
Love has no reply--- No outside stimuli -
No do's or don'ts ... from the I ...
Strictly and inside Job.
Just twenty days. The mystical
Libra will turn rosette boughs into
fading auburn… nights combing
the breeze colder and quite somber ,
as if women on bare hilltops await
the arrival of men in some far oceans
when bleached summer gives way
to icicles of endurance so patient
and wives, lovers tremble in this anticipation
swaying
back and forth, balancing the cold
clutches of afternoon’s light and
destitute clouds wearing mufflers
for near or far elegies of snow.
It is grippingly delicate: I mean, watching
the changing hint of a breeze growing
paler.
Yet wiser is October rising to chip the
glow of studded stars, bit by bit, dying
in the gray of grayest sleet to bear
the tunes of venial woes. Yet, it is the cycle
when courage bides its time for amiable joy.
It is the cycle when her adolescent stage
transforms ladies into maids-in-waiting...
how much longer must the women endure
to find an armada of loved ones back home?
And the weight of contentment drips, drips
in a season fulfilling its own quest.
There are
no answers; only reflective surrender.
Contest: Waiting
Sponsor: james rogers
9/10/2015
—The Virtues I Could Not Bear—
He bore those virtues I had schooled my heart
To flout—the mercy tardive as a bell
That tolls when judgement hath already writ
Its iron sentence; and the fortitude
That, having neither warrant nor reprieve,
Still stood, as though endurance were decree.
His papers sodden, rain-black at the cuffs,
He watched the departing omnibus grow small;
Defeat had docketed him among the lost,
Yet some unlicensed morning stirred in him—
A pertinacious ember without name,
Which would not let the ruin have the last word.
A rumour traversed the town ere Truth
Had found her raiment, fastened up her throat;
By vesper it had gathered testimonial,
By night, a hundred tongues had canonised
Its falsehood. Truth came mud-foot, unadorned,
And found the lie enthroned where fact should sit.
I watched him exhaust the stratagems—
The specious plea, the venial compromise,
The facile alibi by which we varnish
Our abdications into innocence;
Till every avenue of self-release
Lay shuttered—and he chose the steeper way.
I had imagined triumph a resplendent
Heraldry, some aureate certification
Affixed to what the world elects as worthy;
His triumph was the wreckage underneath:
Each failure divested him of borrowed names,
Each rising made the ruin less his own.
Then, inexplicably, the firmament
Descended—not as vision, but as fact:
The stars lay rooting underneath our feet,
And darkness flowered upward through the stone.
I understood no doctrine, only this—
The road was not discovered. It was made.
Let Hell prolong its jurisdiction; let
The false arrive before the true, and let
Our virtues wound the very hands that bear them.
We are not promised passage, nor reprieve;
Yet where the last conceivable way is closed,
the footfall itself becomes the road.
Now Is the Time. Do Not Wait
Hogwash!
Venial and mortal sin are made up
By the Vatican,
Aligned in spiritual classification
Of neatly arrayed distinction.
Sin is sin and not
A portrait of Dante’s
Superstitious eye
And vivid imagination.
This notion that everyone
Who follows the Catholic doctrine
Will be granted everlasting life
Is meant to deceive;
And so, cover your face in shame
When the bad things you’ve done
Are exposed.
Belief in Purgatory is blasphemous.
Christ said, “I am the good shepherd.
I know my own and my own know me!”1
And Christians believe
That through Jesus’ teachings,
“All that the Father gives me, will come to me
and whoever comes to me I will never cast out!”2
There is only one unforgivable sin
On the way to eternal life;
Failure to comply will be dire,
And death can come at any time.
“Because, if you confess with your mouth
that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart
that God raised Him from the dead,
you will be saved!”3
Now is the time. Do not wait.
***
Reference:
1John 10:14 (ESV).
2John 6:37 (ESV)).
3Romans 10:9 (ESV).
Confession is the telling of our sins to a duly authorized priest, for the purpose of abstaining forgiveness
We are bound to confess our mortal sins. But it is well also to confess our venial sins.
The chief qualities of a good confession are three: it must be humble, sincere and entire.
Our confession is humble when we accuse ourselves of our sins, with a deep sense of shame and sorrow for having offended God
Confession are sincere, when we tell our sins honestly and truthfully either exaggerating nor excusing them
Confession is entire, when we tell the number and kinds of our sins and the circumstances which change their nature
If we cannot remember the number of our sins, we should tell the number as nearly as possible, and say how often we may have sinned in a day, a week or a month and how long the habit or practice lasted.
If without our fault we forget to confess our mortal sin Tour Confession is worthy, and the sin is forgiven; but it must be told on confession if it again comes to our mind
It is grievous offense willfully concealed a mortal sin in Confesasion must not only confess it, but also repeat all the sins he has committed since his last worthy confession.
The priest gives us a penance after Confession, that we may satisfy God for the temporal punishment due to our sins
The Sacrament of Penance remits the eternal punishment due to sin but does not always remit the temporal punishment which God requires as satisfaction for our sins
God requires a temporal punishment as a satisfaction for sin, to teach us the great evil of sin and to prevent us from falling again.
The chief means by which we satisfy God for the temporal punishment due to sin are: Prayer, Fasting, Almsgiving, all spiritual and corporal works of mercy, and the patient suffering of the ills of life
Spiritual works of mercy are 7: To admonish the sinner, to instruct the ignorant, to counsel the doubtful, to comfort the sorrowful, to bear wrongs patiently, to forgive all injuries, and to pray for the living and the dead.
The Chief corporal works of mercy are 7: To feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty, to cloth the naked, to ransom the captive, to harbor the harborless, to visit the sick and to bury the dead
On entering the confessional we should kneel, make the sign of the Cross and say to the priest, Bless me Father; then add I confess to Almighty God and to you Father, that I have sinned
The first things we should tell the priest in the Confession are the time of your last confession, and whether he said the penance and went to Holy Communion
After telling the time of our last Confession and Communion we should confess all the mortal sins we have committed, and all the venial sins we may wish to mention
When the confessor asks us questions we must answer them truthfully and clearly
After telling our sins we should listen with attention to the advice which the confessor may think proper to give
We should end confession by saying I also accuse myself of all the sins of my past life, telling if we choose one or several of our past sins
While the priest is giving us absolution we should from our heart renew the act of contrition