Long Vigilant Poems
Long Vigilant Poems. Below are the most popular long Vigilant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vigilant poems by poem length and keyword.
Love has been narrated in novels ,
set to music in songs and expressed in poems with various rhymes:
remembering its glories and lamenting its tragedies;
but this is the ode I've written for those true life's true heroes,
not about someone I've loved and lost,
to cherish the miracle of every breath!
And many have laid down their lives,
so that I can live free and remember the battles they fiercely fought;
and who wouldn't shout, in gratefulness, to the blazing skies?
Brave ones resting in your decorated graves,
God won't forget you when another rainbow reflects
all the beautiful colors of your flags waving, at sun-down,
over the damp grass where the little daises are blooming;
and I have brought the same flowers
that you liked to give to your darlings:
to thank you for your bravery on the incendiary fields...
thinking less of you and more of your countrymen!
Dauntless ones, you gave up your precious lives
and gone to foreign lands to be vigilant and tough,
to allow your children to live their dream
in the freest land that Humankind has ever known;
and how many envy what they hold in their palms?
They are as precious as glaring diamonds,
and as beautiful as the brilliantly rising dawn;
and be sure that they will defend their freedom at any cost...
and fight for it by marching with grace and esteem!
And how can an inspirited poet narrate all the great and sad events...
if not through the sincere voice of his heart-felt verses?
I will not invoke a muse, but a living God to inspire me;
and I won't add or take anything away for the sake of honesty!
Take heart, sorrowful writer and make the words flow with spontaneity;
honor those true life's heroes with your infallible intellect:
to eternally preserve their tenacious and noble memory...
when others repress it and lay it to an unguarded rest!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
An army in green
fields,
ever vigilant, ever
silent, ever still.
Their honor ever
their shields,
falter, they never
will.
They've fought their
fight,
served how and when
they were needed.
They've earned their
reprieve from the
harsh, glaring
light,
but their post,
after all this time,
they still haven't
ceded.
Stones, shaped to
stand and dressed in
white,
mark where they lie,
mute through the
years.
Not voiceless,
though, for there
are those who
remember their
fight;
when called on by
one such in need,
their steadfastness
appears.
Carrying on their
legacy, are those
who continue to add
to their venerated
ranks.
Some call them
soldiers, some fools
and some heroes;
some see the endless
marble formation and
give thanks.
Down the somber rows
reflective feet
tread,
seeking friends,
family, or simply to
respect those who
gave all.
Regardless of race,
gender, creed,
religion, or
homestead,
ever onward, kin
they are; ever
together they stand
tall.
Never forget why
they're in those
green fields; the
battlefields they
crossed,
the kin they left
behind, to grieve
and remember.
Regret young and old
gone too soon,
innocence and family
forever lost,
but don't begrudge
their sacrifice -
with our lives burns
their eternal ember.
He had a Trump sign on his front lawn.
I was concerned, so naturally I set fire to his house.
She told us that men cannot give birth,
Naturally, obviously I was concerned, upset,
and had her committed for reeducation.
He wore no mask in the restaurant,
deeply concerned, I had him thrown out.
Naturally we doxed him,
chanted ‘racist’ outside his home.
She refused to be vaccinated;
said they did not work.
of course I blew the whistle on her,
had her sacked.
We must stand together, and not tolerate
these ungrateful, reactionary malcontents.
Concerned citizens must be vigilant,
yet caring – as I am.
You
stood by my side
tall
unafraid
unyielding,
a tower of
strength!
You were:
my doctor
my nurse
my paramedic
my guardian angel.
Ready you were:
to oppose the invading virus
to protect me
to cure me
to save my life.
Day by day
night after night
vigilant you stood
depriving yourself:
of sleep
of food
of your family.
Little by little
your efforts paid off
the enemy retreated
I recovered.
Jubilant you were
ecstatic
shouting for joy
for
having rescued me from
death's embrace.
I left the hospital
returned home:
to my wife
to my children
to my family.
A few days later
I tried to contact you
to show my appreciation
for your many sacrifices
and
to thank you for offering me
the gift of life
alas
you were not there.
They told me you had passed
away
victim to the disease you had fought against
for to cure me.
You had left, they said
for a better world
a world,
where our Lord of love a special place
had reserved for you:
His newly declared saint!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
08 APRIL 2020
* I wrote this poem late yesterday evening -the World Day of Health- as a
tribute to all those brave men and women who have sacrificed their lives for others to live! R.I.P. blessed souls!
June 27 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Proverbs 21-24
Key Verse – Proverbs 21:31 The horse is prepared against the day of battle: but safety is of the LORD.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY SAFETY INSURER
Lord God, You are my safety Insurer
Who holds my heart in Your hand
Thank You for keeping me in Your loving justice-stand
Your wondrous work is great as You have planned
Truly, Your joy excites me in fulfilling Your biblical demand.
Lord God, You are my safety Insurer Who loves my soul in Your pleasure
Thank You for inviting me to dwell in Your kingdom’s treasure
Your honourable mercy is unlimited beyond measure
Truly, Your wisdom leads me to choices that prudently assure.
Lord God, You are my safety Insurer
Who settles my goal in Your compassion
Thank You for letting me learn with diligence based on Your instruction
Your enriching knowledge is available for my admonition
Truly, Your guidance delivers me from corruption.
Lord God, You are my safety Insurer
Who protects my testimony in Your favour
Thank You for molding me for ministerial endeavour
Your watchful eye is vigilant toward my servanthood-fervour
Truly, Your truth corrects me against deceit of worldliness’ savour.
Lord God, You are my safety Insurer
Who seals my lips in Your righteousness
Thank You for guarding me from spiritual drowsiness
Your prudent discretion is observant to my worship’s earnestness
Truly, Your admonition strikes me of my haughtiness.
Lord God, You are my safety Insurer
Who desires my all in Your fulfillment
Thank You for building me up by Your sanctifying engagement
Your pleasant counsel is strong in securing me around Your contentment
Truly, Your might pulls me from adversity’s entanglement.
Lord God, You are my safety Insurer
Who rewards my faithfulness in Your victory
Thank You for rebuking me of my doubt, folly and worry
Your perfect promise is precious against darts of misery
Truly, Your satisfaction surrounds me with blissful heavenly territory.
June 27, 2027
Which kids long to hear a sweet lullabye...
when they are cuddled up in their beds,
when the vagrant moon won't shine on them to make them sigh?
Would you say they are those being loved by caring parents?
Not at all...orphans with many needs do!
They have dreamed of that mellow sound
as long as they can remember, and 'though they were fearful infants,
those memories were recalled vividly by their mind;
and they are very sad and unforgettable, too...
ask them about their disappointment, you'll surely witness their tears!
Orphanages aren't great places for children to dwell in,
and frustration and anger echo within those walls of silent pain,
where the outside world cannot hear them and alleviate them...
but curious faces peek through window screens and dream!
Let's sing them a sweet lullabye, so that they can sleep
under a vigilant moon and begin weaving their dream;
let's give them a memorable night as the nightingales revere their smiles
as they mimic that melody to make their young hearts rhapsodize!
Let's sing them a sweet lullabye, not just for one night, but for many...
and would they want to turn back time and be solicitous and solitary?
March does reverberate jubilant sound
since it's my birth month with gifts that abound.
March pours down heaven's extravagant grace*
warming my heart with the Saviour's embrace.
March showers me with elegant delight
keeping my heart looks ahead to hope's sight.
March always exhibits radiant glow
ushering in my country Summer blow.
March evokes my triumphant times indeed
like graduation creed with achievement deed.
March demands my vigilant steps desired
as Christ's soldier with truth's cadence, required.
March for a cause is not arrogant stride
but marked by holy steps of divine pride.
March exudes abundant revival zest
humbling me to praise God for being blest.
March props my faith for valiant steps upward
in ministerial works, serving forward.
March on... echoes my great Commandant's voice
with my choice to follow as I rejoice.
*2 Corinthians 12:9 - And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
March 17, 2024
List in Couplet form
1st place, "DEFINE IT POETICALLY WITH A LIST" Poetry Writing Contest Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich; Judged on 3/31/2024
9th place, "Happy Birthday" Poetry Writing Premier Contest
Sponsored by Regina Mcintosh; judged on 1/5/2025
Forgotten you
As your mind collects the memories of yesterday
Forgotten You
Epiphanies tie into knotty strings of realization
That very moment. . .
You merely exist
Back then. . .those smiles
Those. . .distant laughs
Some you remember by name
Gone now maybe
Like the exhalation of the wind
Others dispersed in the world of arbitrary happening
Like leaves from falling, man-made trees
There is no doubt that they have
Forgotten you
Activate the bomb
Ignite the fuse
And you’re on next year’s history book
Never forgotten
But drained of all remaining good
That smile you gave
That happiness
The warm embrace so long ago
Salt-coated with piles of rubbish
Over last remaining mental spurts of comfort
Evil, evil, evil, evil, EVIL. . .
Always absorbed and remembered
. . .though never forgiven. . .
All good and gracious sentiments
Packed up in a box set nonchalantly in Downstair’s storage
. . .that chair with the broken leg in the corner of the room
That mangled cobweb holding a dangling, lifeless spider
A drowned sailor’s hat drifting through the current of the ocean
The single tear from a soldier’s vigilant, memory-stricken eye
The frustrating thoughts of a mute
The unchanged. . .HATED deformations
Forgotten you. . .
One soul brings to light weary, unthought-of happenings
Wedged deep into what she can only imagine
With not even a hint of understanding
. . .of the pain. . . .of the bewildering distortions
Of the ugly. . .
One soul merely vomits sickly verse after verse
As humanity embraces its downfall
The poet hangs onto her unjustifiable, forgotten. . .
Words
Wordsmiths, take heed ...
Letters of the alphabet,
By themselves are but harmless shapes
Of ink or graphite or digital information,
(Placed in ordered variations of ones and zeros),
But when combined in specific patterns and placement and propriety,
Become the most powerful weapons and tools known to humanity.
How many countless lives have been changed, worsened, improved,
Manipulated, darkened, brightened, ended, or even BEGUN,
As a result of their use by an intelligent mind and deft writing implement?
How much love, hate, kindness, vitriol, care, apathy,
Truth, hypocrisy, forgiveness, jealousy, joy, or even horror,
Has been carried to its mark by the thoughtful control
Of their placement and structure and management?
Oh, what horrible irony there is in the assumption that "words can never hurt" ...
They are, without a doubt, the most hurtful things ever created by man,
And yet their keen and acute ambiguity make them their own saviors,
And by positive application and intent,
Can be the most magnificent and wonderfully
Exquisite creations that we are capable of.
Be ever vigilant when you consider their organization and use,
For by their very nature you may be sending forth
A thoughtful work of fascination and beauty,
Or unleashing a monster of incalculable horror and venom.
WE are the bows that send the arrows forth,
WE are the guns that let loose the bullets,
WE are the catapults that let fly the burning stones,
But we are also the hands that pick the flowers,
That gently part the hair, that hold and caress with tenderness,
That encourage and help and touch and feel and explain and honor ...
ALL by the ways we form and group those individual letters of the alphabet,
ALL in the mindful ways we arrange
Those seemingly harmless little squiggles and lines ...
If we only treated words with the same care and respect and caution
That we allow weapons and miracles,
For they are easily as wonderful ...
And easily as dangerous.
Her inner knowing
kept her apart from the others
not that she was better
but she was hyper vigilant
more aware of their dangers
she sensed their meanness
being an empath
boded well
being a healer and an empath
was a double whammy
she felt more strongly than many others
She had to protect herself a bit
She was a life-long learner, inquisitive
enthusiastic about mysticism and spiritualism.
most of her relatives did not understand,
her mother thought she was odd.
her sister told her that she was crazy.
Daddy understood.
They often passed each other in their dreams
during astral travel.