Long Virtuosity Poems

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


Prayer For Strength

Lord help me to do

Designed me to do.

Lord help me to  walk,

Through the confines,

Of Satan's strategies,

Victoriously with virtuosity.

 

I love you Lord: I know

You are here with me.

I want to listen to self

But I know in self I

Want gain true wealth

In You or do what You

Want me to do. I have

People depending of Your

Strength working through

Little old me.

 

I need You: I am in pain.

People are making drastic,

Attempts to put shame,

To my name. People,

Are out there trying,

 To defeat me and coming,

 In droves to test me out,

 To see whether I'll fight back,

 Or let You attack.

 

Lord God in Your word

You stated" For we wrestle,

Not against flesh and blood,

But against principalities,

Against powers, against the

Rulers of the darkness

Of this world,

 Against spiritual wickedness,

 In high places.

 

Lord ,God, give me strength,

To keep on walking when

The devil tells me to watch

My back, when I already

Know that You have it.

Lord God give me strength

To keep smiling when the

Devil makes me cry.

Lord, God, give me strength,

When the devil sets a trap .

That I have to trample

Over in victory to really

Show that you live in me.

 

Shower your joy on me,

For the joy of You Lord,

Is my strength.

Lord God help me to,

Walk, run, sing, shout,

And live on in the way

You want me to live.

For me to give in the way,

You want me to give.

 

Lord, God, give me strength,

For my spiritual swag

Will not lag or drag

But have pep and

Tell others that life

In You is better than

Life itself.

 

wrote 12-11-10


"For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, 
against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." 
Ephesians 6:12

"The Lord  is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation." Psalms 118:14


"Seek the LORD and His strength; Seek His face continually." I Chronicles 16:11
Form: Rhyme


Living Under the Influence Part 3 Surrender To the Spirit

Some Christians of the Baptist persuasion
View the Holy Spirit as an optional vocation
Why do we do this? We must consider to understand
That the Holy Spirit represents the feminine woman 
And not the God head man

We must never try to minimize the Holy Spirit's role
Don't fall for that deception and give the Devil any control
We need the power of the Holy Spirit in order to withstand
The machinations of the Devil and its diabolical plans
And don't think that your credentials, your deeds nor your awards
Will ever be enough to hold up against the Enemy's sword

So stop stuttering, stop sputtering and stop quenching 
the Holy Spirit's power
Or you will never experience the living waters 
At your appointed hour

To be that which God designed you to be
You must let the Holy Spirit run the show
So that those rivers of living water 
Within you will forever flow
The Spirit is always ready to guide you
To be the best version of whom you should be
As God doesn't do mass productions
But individual works of artistry

So present yourself as a living sacrifice
Renewed and transformed
And let your reasonable service of worship
Be a commitment to which you've conformed
As God will then equip you with the instrument
That's unique to your virtuosity
Now living under the influence of the Holy Spirit
For all the world to see

One you must surrender to the Holy Spirit
To let go and let God
No longer trying to control the outcome
Letting God do His part
No don't stop critical thinking
You need to be able to comprehend
That God is God all by Himself
And we're just mere women and men
As Jesus didn't come to rearrange 
The outside trappings of your life
He came to address the inner you
And show you want it means to acquiesce and sacrifice

Two you must humble yourself so that you can now envision
What God has destined for you and not society's revision
Living under the influence of the Holy Spirit of the Lord Christ
Is to be continuously filled with the living waters 
Everyday of your Christian life

Shalom

  

"Great Pleasures awaits those who follow the path of the Earthstar,
who adhere to the laws of nature, to the real self,
who abide in the house of the harmonic mindwave" 
- the Lunar Buddha - 

The wonders of being Jewish are highlighted by an awareness of the oceanic, 
self, including a plethora of suigeneris miracles. Shabbatza.  Guided by the
messianic ideal, the buddhist convert assumes an attitude characterized by
a personalized passion for simple truth blended with a fascination with the 
sacred nature of existence. Thus cleansed of a now external confusion, the self 
feels no need to evangelize or proslyetise. Hallelujiah. 

As the celebration of Candlemass nears, the more intellectually inclined initiate 
and plan for the upcoming festivities. Being Jewish and therefore intrinsically 
drawn to the aesthetic, scientific insight and revelation form an avenue for 
personal and interpersonal transfiguration. Yogacara. Darshana. Shakuna 
Tantra.

The most religious perspective tells us of a divine energy or spark inherent in 
all humans; of a natural propensity for discovery of underlying truth, for an 
understanding of the Creator, the master builder of the cosmic scheme. 
Battacharyya.

Just as Jewish holy water runs from the springs of Hadassa, all things may 
flourishing their diversity and inequality. Outside the subjective circumference 
of comprehension, the naysayers gather and murmur among themselves, 
absorbed into doubt and contempt for that which is filled with virtue and 
virtuosity, for that which feeds and refuels the depths of the higher self. 
Bhavana.

Music tells us of an affinity with of the grace and power of the Celestial, 
the Macrocosmic, punctuated by a fascination with the infinite and accompanied 
by a sense of abiding gratitude; thereby  energized by and canonized forever in 
clusters of glimmering gematria and encomnia. Song, Starlight , Shibboleth.

Premium Member Hey, It's Cafe Jazz

Snapping fingers, a low hum in the microphone)
 Hey, It's Café Jazz/ But we ain't just sipping black coffee and snapping our fingers in polite applause/
 Talkin' Bop/ first idiom where being white wasn't the fast track to success/ Yeah, dig it/ Bop was the soundtrack/ To anxieties, to late nights, to dreams deferred/
 A nervous tremor in the rhythm/ Hard to play/ Man, you don't even KNOW. Only Bird, Diz, Miles...a constellation of cats burning bright, digging deep into a new conception in jazz/
 A new hip way/ The hard Bop LP Clifford Brown and Max Roach, Study in Brown, 1955?
Got heads blown right off/ This isn’t just music, see?/
 It's talkin' 'bout you, talkin' 'bout me/ talkin' 'bout life getting ready to take on a new form/ Be-Bop Creating a dialogue in  Blending ideas, twisting sounds, birthing a style from the after-hours jam sessions at Minton’s Playhouse, Harlem/
 Extreme virtuosity/ blistering speed/ /dissonant chords/ chordal substitutions – a vocabulary of rebellion/
 Offbeat piano action, more action, SUPA DUPA HIGH VOLTAGE, MAN! Scorching tempos mirrored the doped-up lives...the pain... the desperation...of some Bop masters/
 Even the beat poets... yeah, they copped the style/ the wicked mix of horn blowin' break-your-freakin'-neck speed, the Bop notes bleeding into their verses/ Jazz poetry on fire/
 Did Bop influence Lenny Bruce? while doin’ a A-bomb of Heroin and Marijuana in the back of the room of his late night gig/
Is you black, or is you white?/
 That question still under the skin of Jazz America/ still inching, scratching, Racism out of jazz/
 Where are the jazz lords of the in-between at?/
 What's the jazz world like today? Well, your ride is way clean, man/ got the chrome shinin', the leather gleamin'/ but… your gas tank is on E. (Silence, save for the click of the microphone being switched off)
© Tony Adamo  Create an image from this poem.

Leonardo Vs Michaelangelo

Michaelangelo: 1475-1564    Leonardo Da Vinci: 1452-1519                  


Michaelangelo is one of the most famous artists of the Italian Renaissance,
born in Caprice Italy with his mother dying when he was one month old-
His father Lodovico raised him until he had reached his adolescence,
he had always discouraged Michaelangelo from the arts, so the story was told.

Leonardo Da Vinci was the most renowned Renaissance man from Italy.
He was born out of wedlock and raised by his father and grandparents-
He received very little education but proved his fine abilities for artistry,
became an apprentice to Andrea del Verrocchio, his aptitude was apparent.

Michaelangelo painted a few masterpieces, but sculpting was his vocation,
remaining in Rome and recognized for his artistic aesthetic virtuosity-
He carved the “Pieta” a sculpture of Mary holding Jesus, a beautiful illustration,
the “Sistine Chapel” and “David” became his most refined ingenious legacy.

In the year of 1495 Leonardo was unexpectedly recognized and commissioned
to paint “The Last Supper”, the Passover taking three years to complete-
“Mona Lisa”, is the most distinguished painting giving him utmost recognition,
but this gifted artist enjoyed living a placid lifestyle, staying discreet.

An artisan challenge was made between the best renaissance designers,
a sculptor and a painter who were jealous of each other’s techniques-
superiority was raised with haste to become the greatest fresco headliner,
both gave up the challenge, moved away and never again did they speak.


"A good painter has two chief objects to paint- 
man and the intention of his soul"
-Leonardo Da Vinci


Historical Rivalry: Leonardo Da Vinci  vs. Michaelangelo

Date Written: September 3, 2016
Form: Rhyme


Unedited

We are of the ground

Electricity flows deep inside me
You cannot harness it 
Because 
I do not know it is there 
Deep with in 
And with in comes 
With everything 
Attached ti me is a soul 
Morals that govern my entire existence 
Profound Power that is indescribable 
However 
This I am doing as I am who I've become. 
Both good and bad 
I reflect the image of my own 
I follow the path of my makers 
People; in fact
Like you and like I 
We are the creators of each other 
Bonded by common grounds
The ones to which we physically walk on and live 
Bordered by the segregation of same species by of course; invisible boundarors. 
Some of which are visible 
Mostly seen through the reflections of our own
Mirrored eyes reveal truth through involuntary traits 
The same traits that make us man and woman alike 
The same traits that betray those in which we are 
Such a separation of species has been our eternally fatal tragic demise.
We weren't meant for what we truly are. 
We are intended to be much more exemplary. 
Divided by nature lessens our homogenous immaturity to the lowest level for success of any other means if found such wrongs. 
I feel something inside of me that is itching to be set free. 
It is not a monstrosity.  
More so a virtuosity that is of truth, compassion and love. 
Electricity flows withing our veins. 
We are each and every one of us are responsible for setting each other up for failure. 
We place limits upon ourselves. 
I doubt what I can become. 
We are unaware of who we truly are.
Simply because we are to afraid to release the amazing powers we all possess inside. 
You and I have electricity inside of us. 


8~21~16
Form: Didactic

- Voice of a Dalit Women

now hear the unheard cries
of dalit women plight
upper caste takes pride
humanity here despise
seeing the cruelty dies
of high caste females crucify
mercilessly their own gender 
in the name of caste blunder
mutely supporting the plunder
of dalit women, who wonder
the silence of own gender
on the sight of feminity
in the board day light
paraded naked in their own vicinity
raped, ravished and trampled
no doubt upper caste feminity
is skin deep only
else they would have fought
for their feminine right
to live life free of fright
alas! they are caste blind
to see their mutual bind
feminists too are not so kind
to raise voice against the crime
however will burn candles
and raise issue nation wide
on death of upper caste women
died enjoying night party
such feminists who glee 
in distributing pink panty
for women’s right to party
awfully ignores humiliating death
suffered by dalit women daily
story of dalit women is grim
suffers discrimination all time
as a female and a lower caste being
though struggling through adversities
if succeed to come out of the rim
aristocrat high caste vultures deem
her hopes nothing but dream
ever preying on her virtuosity
that dominates their caste superiority
arising dalit women suffers subtly
high caste people discriminating policy
based on caste as well gender inferiority
where majority prays and swears by female deity
but treat dalit women mere commodity
nation egotist in its democracy
fails to notice caste discrepancy
dalit women should now be their own saviors
pursue the legacy of Savitribai Phule and Dr. Ambedkar
be educated, be united and agitate

…raHUL
© Rahul Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Conversations With Sandstone At Khajuraho

As the sun sets over your naked postures, bringing
twilight into Kichak’s frightful mouth, and yet, still you,
all of you, continue to dance in the dusk of eternal love.
It is hard to not bear witness to
Our own inconstancy, our own transience,
etched on the ticket of a bus we are to take at midnight. 

As the digital camera freezes you in its pixelated frames,
and the heavily accented Guide builds legends of you
in our eyes, through imperfect stories made in
the edifice of a malleable past housing a broken hourglass
under the skies of collective memory.
It is hard to not bear witness to
our own inconstancy, our own transience
etched as an old love poem written for a forsaken beloved
not very long ago.

As stories seep into each other, while you continue to attempt
to fuse bodily, soulfully, into each other, how much ever,
stonily, and all of your life’s spectacles
play out in front of us slowly, very slowly.
It is hard to not see our Quotidian reflect in pieces 
of your Eternity, and your eternity played out as
a break from our mundane; else, how are we to 
fall in and out of Love again? How are we to
live, die and learn to live again?

As you visit our counted dreams with a 
casual strut of a by-walker; and trespass our delicate
dreams with stubborn virtuosity from a time
that does not even exist anymore! It is hard to not
witness you make a mockery of Time
we clutch on to so dearly; by filling the vapid timelessness of our dreams
with infinite time; the lovelessness of a half-empty bed with
infinite Love. 
In short, 

This, my dear, is just not done.

We Are of the Ground

Electricity flows deep inside me. 

You cannot harness it
Because I do not know it is there
Deep with in
And with in comes
With everything.
Attached to me is a soul
Morals that govern my entire existence
Profound power that is indescribable
However
This I am doing as I am who I've become
Both good and bad
I reflect the image of my own
I follow the path of my makers
People; in fact
Like you and I
We are the creators of each other
Bonded by common grounds
The ones which we physically walk and live upon
Bordered by the segregation of same species;
Invisible boundaries
Some of which are visible
Viable through the reflections of our own
Mirrored eyes reveal truth through involuntary traits
The same traits that make us man and woman alike
The same traits that betray those in which we are
Such a separation of species has been our eternally fatal tragic demise
We were not meant for what we truly are
We are intended to be much more exemplary
Divided by nature lessens our homogenous immaturity to the lowest level for success of any other means if found such wrongs
I feel something inside of me that is itching to be set free
It is not a monstrosity
More so a virtuosity that is of truth, compassion and love
Electricity flows withing our veins
We are,
each and every one of us,
Responsible for setting each other up for failure
We place limits upon ourselves
I doubt what I can become.
We are unaware of what we truly are
Simply because we are to afraid to release the amazing powers we all possess inside. 

You and I have electricity inside of us. 


10-05-16

And All That Jazz

From East to west enslaved in chains
To work the fields, make tracks for trains
They sang their song antiphonally
To dull their day, hide misery
Those blues notes hit in wailing tone
And words about the heavenly home

Their doleful sounds had paved the way
To blues and jazz in later day
Rhythms and chords became complex
Joplin’s ragtime was a great success
For well practiced piano on old upright
Those old time rags are still a delight

New Orleans was where it began
In ghettos for blacks with time on their hands
From morning to night they developed their skills
On trumpets, sax, it staved off their ills
Mastering their instruments with deft virtuosity
Jazzy riffs marked by smart improvisatory

The Mississipi paddle boats chugged their way
Aboard, the sounds of jazz in full sway
Entertaining, with a sense of pride
Scat singing, cross rhythms, boogie and stride
And took their art to far off places
Strutting their stuff, no airs and graces

White bands were now beginning to swing
Inclusion slowly becoming the thing
With time to go, but heading that way
In church, brilliant gospel helped them to pray
Spirituals continued to highlight their plight
Fair treatment becoming within their sight

Jazz continues to wow one and all
In different forms to really enthrall
Miles Davis and Matt Dennis both just the same
With jazz in mind, they played the same game
Blues and jazz have impacted new sounds
As popular as ever its music abounds

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