Long Vessel Poems
Long Vessel Poems. Below are the most popular long Vessel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vessel poems by poem length and keyword.
It keeps me coming it keeps me coming the environment surrounded by the darkness it keeps me flowing keeps me going my dark is not light
As 4 whose wrong myself
4 whose am I
I am breath energized
Light I shine effortlessly bright
I circumcised the darkness
Dark now light
So shine I bright
I stand in the darkness I am the lightness
Beneath the crevices are mine lessons
Surrounded by people covered in their own personal darkness am I the vessel so I shine
God N me cries joyous shouts mercies graces peace
So devine in Jesus mighty name so shine
Dark now light
So shine I bright
So darkness was
Alas my Father Our Father makes us LIGHT
Shine on so shine, shine, shine on now in Jesus name shine
As 4 whose wrong myself
4 whose am I
I am breath energized
Light I shine effortlessly bright
I circumcised the darkness
Dark now light
So shine I bright
So shine our light
So the darkness knows it not
9/9/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2023
Three friends they stood in the forest
Each dreaming each wishing
To be what it desired most
The first tree prayed
Dear Lord if you only made me
A beautiful vessel
To keep precious gifts alone
I would be contented with my life
The second tree lifted his branches
Worshiped and prayed
Lord If you only made out of a great boat
To carry kings and great princes of the world
The third tree prayed
Dear Lord If you only let me stand on a high hill
So that each person that looked at me gave you glory
The lord answers every prayer even that of trees
The first tree met its first woes
As it was cut shaped into a manger
For cows to enjoy salt from
The tree was sad
And complained to God
I never asked for this
But one day a man and woman
lay there child in this manger
after failing to get a home for this great son
And the tree smiled when it felt
The second tree cried
When it was molded into a fisherman's boat
Each day and night this boat wet sad
One day like that day when mandela got out of prison
The storm caught up the sea
The boat was excited that all these nothings are going to perish
Until one sleeping man
woke up stretched his arm to the seas and they calmed down
Did the tree realize
The king of kings had traveled
In its boat
The third tree was unfortunate
Its wish of staying on one hill was shattered
when this careless man cut it down
shaped it into some nothing
That was put on a tired bleeding man
who wasn't strong enough to carry it all through
As the tree smelt blood all over it cried
And cursed God
It was carried to another hill
where the bleeding man was nailed
As he shouted it is finished
Joy covered the tree
As it discovered that who ever looks to it
Their sins are forgiven
Their lives changed
And God glorified
We live in such a diverse, multicultural world
Yet I have to ask why Black History isn't taught
What is it about the black culture that mankind
Refuses to educate, elaborate, reveal, and expose
Black history is like taboo; no one wants to speak or preach
I often wonder what the men of old said about the first man in the world
Were their words dark and cold, vicious and malicious
Vindicated and warlike, or did they write about a race
That was independent and intelligent
Powerful and wise
Great and Spiritual
Excellent and Gifted in Yah's sight
I choose not to offend, but I cannot help but follow the pen
You see, I am not the master mind behind the words I write
I am just the vessel that's used to inspire, awaken and motivate
Teach and educate a culture that has forgotten how great they are
“Chasing Ghosts in Cars”
Like automata
we walk inside
winding up the stairs
it’s all mechanical
the romance
programmed
by steep degrees
in the
well-routined
we can walk
through walls
anywhere
to look out
our windows
towards the better view
each cell in the body
and mind renewed
we expurgate
the misplaced
misconceptions
of others, of ourselves
it’s fair-weather sailing
out there,
the transparent come and go
best to turn
a blind eye
a swift kiss on the cheek
make it brief
then close all
your doors
to their artful dodger hauntings
friendships and felicitations
their joyful gleaming commiserations
whole oceans
full of souls
walking and swimming
treading water
all the floating
poesies planted
mindfully fragrant
fresh bits thrown
parlayed introspection
deliciously blooded with the sharks
such hungry poets
with a well-adjusted
deep knowing
and a quiet
unthorough
understanding
of another
unknown equation
in the real world
never making
premature
judgements
outside is a risk
we all take
we write what we know
we know what we write
ghost written
in the Daily Phantom
in the gloaming fantasy
there still exist
real ghouls calling us in
hungry for kindness
burying pity for
the honesty it lacks
inside we are listing
the volume we turn up
to hear messages better
we are
listening
to cars
lyrics
we wish you
to know
to be understood
when you are
chasing ghosts
some say
they’ve gone too far
they’re too far gone away
forget-me-knots
hanging loose
chasing ghosts in cars
Machiavellians
gone astray
the naked minds
of
undressed nuns
and
sanctimonious preachers
oiling their guns
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live in cars
Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days in cars”
listing/nautical.
“Listing” is a nautical term to describe when a vessel takes on water and tilts to one side. A ship can list either to port (left) or starboard (right). By contrast, a ship is said to be “trimming” when she tips forward or backward.
I learned to swim in waters of amoeba
You shout "Regarde!" as I float to the surface
But it's far from Paris in this viscous river
Your hands of guidance turned to scoffs
Trading my pain for stacks of coins~
I no longer hear the crowds beg for mercy
Forced to nurse groupings of septic cells
My chest covered in ripples and blisters
The wet nurse of a generation of youth
Doctor, how come I must be a vessel?
Because my skirt fell above my knees
My womb is no factory of steel
All of this for more soldiers to train
For the crippling economy and labor
Why must your wealth stay tightly packed?
I will never earn my dress of white
Men of our nation will deem me impure
Forever a mandatory mother, never a wife
My body shall remain my own
Free of your legislature~
Yesterday is an empty vessel
That has sailed; forever lost at sea.
While tomorrow is on it's way
Why not live today now?
Make the best of it. It's a day of renewal.
The sun is shining through marshmallow clouds!
A chorus of birds are singing in the trees!
Flowers of spring are colorfully blooming!
The world is beautifully dressed in green.
When you open up the window of tomorrow,
Today, you'll see the garden of possibilities.
You'll see it blooming before your eyes.K
When you wake up at dawn, shut the door
To yesterday. You'll feel inspired
To take chances over being smothered
By fear of failure, or the unknown
Today, give hostages to fortune,
Regardless of consequences. Start looking
For a blueprint to build the loftiest
Of dreams, and the ladder to climb it.
Date: 04/13/2020
Written and posted: 03/28/2018
I understood you in your silence, an ocean of ice under mute stars,
where the shadows of time weigh heavily, a mountain of unspoken ash,
your struggles, heavy curtains, hide cries of a shattered heart,
shards of fallen stars, scattered on fields forgotten by the wind.
Your nights, sleepless, just broken mirrors in which you get lost,
you see yourself and no longer know who you are, a wounded soldier under a dew armor,
moving forward, for the war never sleeps, and the world demands you to be whole,
when you are merely fragments, a crystal vessel broken in silence,
an empty church, deserted by angels, with walls whispering extinguished longings.
Your scars, maps of pain on thin porcelain skin,
unspoken wounds, covered with petals of time and forgetting,
you flinch when love flies toward you, a bird scared by shadows,
unsure if the hand reaching out will caress you or bind you in chains.
Your eyes close at "I love you," echoes of broken promises,
hands that vanished into mist, voices lost in the emptiness of morning,
when you cried out, and your heart, a desert, awaited a response that never came.
But if I hadn't read the architecture of your pain, built from dried tears,
from dreams buried under slabs of cold, I wouldn't have known how to love you,
not to fix you, not to glue the pieces with the patience of a watchmaker,
but to carefully hold in my palms the broken treasures of your soul,
your withered flowers, your broken songs, smiles frozen in time,
yellowed photographs, loves carried away like smoke in the late autumn wind.
I keep them as sacred relics of a storm-beaten soul,
yet beautiful, for it knows how to love, to hope, to rise from the ashes.
You are a breathing miracle, a poem written every day,
with every step, with every wound, with every yearning that refuses to die,
and I love you not for what you were, but for what you are: a fragile light,
burning under a heavy sky, an unspoken, eternal verse of hope.
She built a sailing ship from quarried limestone.
Vacancy for about a thousand restless crows.
Year after year, "The Necessity" steadily progressed.
Twenty-four and SEVEN without yearning for prayer or rest.
She was elegant and beautiful like white virgin gold.
But years of pauper toil always demand a royal toll.
Thinning soul and hunched bones she hungrily attacked.
Through drought, whirlwinds and Devilish thunderclaps.
She placed half a carrot atop the limestone mast.
by far the brightest jewel of her black powder past.
Dragging the beating vessel 'neath seagull serenade.
A pinch of salted MEMORIES left melting in the rain.
She slowly crawled aboard... a parrot's diary in hand.
Waiting for black waters to swallow up the burning path.
"The Necessity" was launched with a bleeding of champagne.
A christening of a new constellation called the death of chronic pain.
WOW Do I Love Thee
(with apologies to EBB)
Steady girl, let us dare not partake
of a sunsets blushing kiss unfelt
the winds of change cruel fate has dealt
the length, width, and breadth of loving’s ache.
For, I too, love thee, as coated seeds
worship the warming of summer’s blush,
rejoice in memory of your touch,
lust in the dreaminess of your needs.
Let our love sanctify past passion
elevate the joy of childhood glee
by nurturing this love we fashion
cause lost saints to smile at what they see.
Lover’s in a fire glowing ashen,
death a distant vessel on God’s sea.
2/12/2016
submitted to – How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways – Poetry contest
sponsor – Mystic rose
Fragrant magick candlelight flickers hot,
blue, red flame stimulating sparks bind hands.
Tame harmony remains. "Love." While love awakes
a wanderer of my emboldened heart;
gentle wind meander blows, and gusts oppose.
I discern your quintessence in the breeze
emerging out of dust of dry humble ground
from I was formed ... a fleeting glance into
colorfulness night; for our love rhymes
of aged mirth; our unconditional surrendered
love eclipse with flickering light while honey
sips our lips. Bound by love and devotion
my soul embraces you …you cradle me close
a thirst to be near for all eternity.
A dwelling among this vessel knowing
that you are in me and I in you
bathing in the afterglow of sunset
under heavens studded with bright stars.
11/29/2019
Poetry Contest: Love Me Like You Mean It
Sponsored by: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
magick
NOUN
archaic spelling of magic.