Long Virtues Poems

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


Premium Member BLACK HISTORY MONTH WITHIN

Standing as a reminder
Being a Minority I am
Heritage establishes me
Created from the beginning for the world to see
Born with a purpose
Taught through education
Ancestor’s promise
Fulfill and Achieve
Their recognition my reason
Negativity is not a stop
Positivity is all ambitions go
Watch me through effort
Observe as I achieve
Just like my Forefathers did then
I am the now
Black History Month is a following
The center in believing
Odds maybe against me
I live beyond past tense
My movement spells opportunity
Advance Enterprises chance
Ready Or not here I am
Taking my place where I belong
Virtues and Values
Black History Month solid ground
My footsteps planted
Determination high
No stops calling all the shots
One can stand still, but courage to step out 
Black History Within
The Shall, Can and Will.


Premium Member Hand Made

Sweat drips from little dust covered faces in the grim back-alley factories

No time for rites of passage other than fingers nimble enough to spin and

Balance wheel spool spin and stitch regulator to their master’s instruction

	
          Anyana is not unique but one of the ‘fortunate’ ones 


Gloved hands mop up droplets of perspiration from a lace veil and seduce

A myriad of lovers before she even enters an intricate parquet dance floor 

Takes a cue from the orchestra and whirls on stilettos and rhapsodic flair


          Chantelle did not purchase her dress at the charity shop


Their stories unite as neo-liberal gangsters spin a yard on wheels of fortune

While their procession fails to trickle down moderate glimpses of hope

Some stride on the cat walk of privilege and others are scavengers in rags


          Exposed nipples are rather dissimilar but follow a different path

	
Anyana gathers her virtues and sends love across the boundary of despair

Her shoes bear no fairy tale stories when midnight strikes at the fashion

Of stolen passion from sweat shops for garments scented with perfume 


          Cause and effect cannot moderate nor gloss over amoral fabric


03rd November 2019

Premium Member Where Spineless Weasels Dwells

I find in a godless society 
versed so to speak openly correct 
truth always becomes the first casualty aborted
 
It comes under attack with twisted views 
heartless beings cursing every good value upside down 
whom use vulgar words in order to silence the true facts 

Craving acceptance pride filled bullies 
condemning souls through their wickedness of deeds 
displayed boastfully ignorant goats 

Taking away rights it is where it all begins displacing people 
stripping us into the core of sanity where hope is lost virtues 
focusing on those without sin making them feel dirty for having a choice 

A communist state of affairs under lawless acts hide stupid apes 
has now entered our modern day democracies underhanded failures 
baffoons filled with corruptions sins rotten to the core exist

Premium Member Facts Hold Virtues Intact

Pride comes before the fall 
under a tender gaze of midday's sun 
Our Sunday cross 
is being turned upside down 
incorrectly sponsored by none other than the arts council 
as it carries their logo seal of approval stamped all over it 

With groups promoting sin unholy acts attack
Abortion takes the centre staged arena 
dark nights follow anyone supporting 
such an ugly vile deed unchristian barbarism 
tearing a child from the tree of life

Blind beggars God is not with them anymore 
innocence is now plucked from the vine of the living 
condemned to death

Also un-natural against the good living is speaking out of turn 
trying to twist their sins as if born to do so deeply disturbed 
family values is the most productive role in society today 
to overshadow it against creations seed sewn treasures 

The true values we hold are held 
truth inside our mortal souls frame of mind

Born from the spirit of injustices a fire burns 
crying to the Heaven's in dread filled shame for mercies sake 
unhappy victims they become whom 
are chained by incorrect choice 
dressed down silenced good 
yet remains to speak firmly on ignorance 
in an open verdict time 
will catch up 
when the judgement bell tolls 

Numbers each and every single beast 
corrupt to the marrow 
I for one condemn this false face called liberal 
arrogant tunnel visioned traitors 
Removing our Divine King as Lord 
in our most Sacred Heart blessed 
we are protected under his Holy mantel

When You Finally Come To Stay

Dear money, I never called you evil.
I watched others curse your name
as though you were a serpent in their garden,
whispering ruin into honest ears.

But I saw you differently.
I saw them - bills paid on time,
With groceries steadying our routines,
rent settled before the landlord’s knock.

I foresee dignity in our every step,
With possibilities standing ahead in our way,
A fragrant of hope unfolding quietly,
fulfilled by a settled wallet.

So I write with clarity my strict terms,
Be stripped off every greedy strand …
And never be as a god so I would worship,
but to welcome you with understanding.

Come to me, come - my dear friend -
Sit at my table without storming or boasting,
To become a virtuous tool in my hands,
Not slippery, nor with chain on my neck.

When you come be like rain in a dry season,
To linger, and let laughter fill empty rooms.
Come in measures that will not dwindle
at the sight of every waiting bill.

Then, this is why they called you evil:
You awaken something sharper than desire.
When abundance has driven out lacking,
When the cup once dry begins to overflow.

Oblivion creeps in, letting pride within,
I dare this: to restrain you even in plenty,
To taper your presence with generosity,
And guide you toward virtues - nothing more.

O’ moolah, I never named you evil -
It’s only that you reveal what’s already hidden in man.
But come, if you must, and grow if you will;
I seek your presence, not your throne.


Rights Reserved


Below the Parapet

Some hide their heads 
below the parapet
Not challenging the times
When faced with social uplift
They fail to  rise
When we are fighting
Taking a  stand
They disappear in  the shadows
Never  to  lend a  hand
They think  they  are OK
In the scheme  of  things
But in a sudden change of fortune
Tragedy is forced on them

There are no safe grounds in crisis
When we are faced with pain
In the currency of life that confront us
Where freedom is denied
We are on the battle fields of justice
Answering ancient cries
But in nonchalant indifference
Those who hide behind the parapet
Would rather watch innocents die

Some hide behind the parapet
With no wishes or designs
To forge a new togetherness
But to pursue a selfish mind
They say that the ties that binds us
Is cast in the winds of time
When we create a consciousness
When we develop a positive mind

There is always a Judas
In each and every band
With 40 pieces of silver
Out comes their outstretched hand
For as much as we seek justice
They are used as tools
To be bought and sold 
to the highest bidder
Just for a pot of gold

There are soldiers
That blaze a trail
Not seeking self virtues
Nor personal gains
But are caught up in a movement
From which humanity gains.

Perola

My name is Pérola, born among thorns beneath steely rocks
By the great Bay, where its sons harvest fish for the government mint against their sweat
The teacher points at my eye for its vile afloat

My grandfather, a serviceman and healer
Many queues for his touch of healing hands far and wide
His sons are warriors of the land walking on his prints
They widely spoke of their virtues against my decadence
My mother's father
His poise of character lives on decades later
Mentions of his nobility in imperfect man
His daughters, my mothers, have lived in dignity and valour
Yet they disdained me an illusion of imperfection

I swim in the lake of rebel
I laugh at the trouble I germinate
Look, they are sweet as lime, hotter than Indian paper
I sit quietly at the bay where I am summoned 
Wavelike broken glasses 
Showers me, piercing every inch of my skin
I brace my agonising pain

My name is Pérola,
A stone. A precious stone.
Am not easily broken
A valuable stone. I cannot be camouflaged
I have a different story to tell
Unique in every season, both spiced and crunchy

My name is Pérola, born among thorns beneath adamantine rocks

Premium Member I Let You Pass By

Golden leaves swing with breeze merrily
Hearing cheery music written by your winds
Enjoying beamy warmth of budding sunlight
Awaiting your arrival to enter my daydream,

Your sunny rays made my misty land fertile,
Growing seeds I sowed into vibrant yields
Swaying back and forth in graceful style
Emulating movements of your smiley eyes,

There I linger where you roam in my fields
Asking you to become my jewel of serenity
Finding comfort in presence of your allure
Encouraged by your vibes emitting grandeur,

Soon as my day turns into twinkling twilight
Becoming my vision of our romantic setting,
Your whispers are heard by the starry night
Alerting me to divinity of supernal blessing,

That's when you arrive, bringing lover's joy
Possessing virtues of glamorous enterprise.
Mesmerized by your beauty I'm hypnotized, 
Frozen in place speechless, I let you pass by.

May 20, 2018
Placed first in late October 2018 contest by Brian Strand

Premium Member Freedom Or Death

 Give me Freedom or Give me Death
 Until then, Watch me Rock This Liberty Bell
 I AM the Master and Creator of my God Given Life
 I Fear No Man, No Dark, No Fire
 Matters Not, Be a King or Peasant
 All Are Created Equal, Never Stifle Ones Blessings
 I Walk in Truth that's God Ordained
 The Pursuit Of Liberty, Life, Happiness and Faith
 My Vibes Jive on Heroic
 I'm Alexander crossed with Moses
 I Fear No Death, No Evil, No Oppressing Foes
 Because Freedom is our Inheritance that's Heaven Sown
 By Spirit Reborn, Death just a Stepping Stone
 BEHOLD! The Everlasting Light Of The Great Soul
 To be Free, Dream and Express is Universal Law
 That No Body, Or Entity shall Infringe upon
 Patriot Born
 Noble and Courageous is the Honor Code,
 Brave and Chivalrous, The Golden Virtues
 I Stand Upright with Fortitude,
 Freedom Or Death, that's the Only Truth
 Land Of The Free, I Bleed Red, White and Blue
Form: Rhyme

Son of Mine

SON OF MINE

The sky darkens,
Rain gathers and descends,
Seeds planted by the farmer,
Trunks shaped by the sawyer,
Nails drove in by the hammer,
What goes around comes around,
This is the connection of life.


No man was born an adult,
Perspectives of life are many,
Let your eyes see the good vision,
Vision that brings caution,
Lest you fail oh my son,
But give light to darkness as the sun,
Let your hand grab the vital tools,
The tools that bulids a future,
A future of incorruptible nature,
Hear this Oh my son



From the clay a pot is made,
From the wood the rod is made,
The rod of correction that teaches,
That teaches the principle of life,
Life of human virtues,
Virtues that are eternal,
Let the rod abide in your heart,
And let your days be merry,
Oh,my son.
Form: Verse

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