Long Wade Poems
Long Wade Poems. Below are the most popular long Wade by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wade poems by poem length and keyword.
The 70's brought a wake-up call, embracing some needed change.
Some women with unwanted pregnancies were self-mutilating, so insane.
It seems we are now regressing like a patient who's demented.
Why would a women's right to choose now be legally circumvented?
Too many women lost their lives in a blood bath so obscene.
Botched coat hanger abortions and
other unsafe means.
Do you hear their voices?
Can you count their screams?
We have learned nothing, or so it seems.
Too many women's lives ended tragically.
Where are their death statistics?
Are we too blind to see?
God help a nation that forgets it's own history.
There it lay, lovely loose ooze on my path.
Black, sticky, stinky mud with aftermath.
I knew the feeling as feet slither in
As I grinned and grimaced with chagrin.
Squelch, squish, slurp, splutter and splat the ooze groans,
As my feet are soiled to pitch black tones.
Such a disgusting feeling with feet stuck
In the vile pile of gloppy, sloppy muck.
Through the mud up to top of thighs I wade,
But, creeping along, slow progress is made,
I sink lower down to my waist and stall.
Appalled, I squirm on my belly and crawl.
As I dragged myself up, the ooze clung on.
Any hope of staying clean was long gone.
Christmas 2025
2025.12.25
Monkey, monkey sits on the desk,
Do you witness him still surfing on the internet.
Ask him out to get some sun light,
Walk on the beach or wade in the sea.
There are so many things to see.
Broaden his mind and enjoy the sunshine.
This Christmas, the presents
Were much less than last year
Not because of being stingy,
Or love him less than what was used to be.
It was purely because ......
Strangely this year,
There was no Christmas lights,
Decorated in front of his house.
What has happened to him,
No celebration nor decoration?
Did he know that,
Everyday for the past six months,
His favourite song was the first
And the last piece of music
I play at the piano.
He was the person who introduced me,
To the world of music and encourage me to play,
Yet, he never knew nor had a chance to hear
What I play everyday.
Faith, that was all about faith.
Merry Christmas and Happy New my dear.
Good bye and good luck to you.
As the world becomes more numbing, they never saw it coming
And in just a blink of an eye their whole entire life past them by
The Judgement having now been passed few entering the narrow gate
The first may so be the last, a far better outcome than the late
For ignorance is not an excuse with all the evidence being so clear
It’s about your time and it’s use and of course to which you steer
As those choices have been made in so now in which you wade
All of the past has come due as you chose not to be made a new
As the times wane things will happen that no one can explain
Though many will continue to ignore not knowing what’s in store
They will be the late having sealed their very own fate
The ones who are headed to hell, they can’t even tell
Every step that they take is one less step needed to be taken
If the Lord doesn’t Bless then you will be forever forsaken
Now is the time to realize, now is the time to awake
For if you want to rise, it’s your disbelief you’ll have to break
A line of waves
begin their run to shore,
lifting, rising up and flaring
cobra like as if preparing
to strike, gliding forward
until the shallows down them
and they fall, deflating
to a withering crawl
up the incline of a beach,
beaten into tiny bubbles
that burst harmless at my feet.
I am safe here
beyond the lethal reach
of waves and water where,
just a short wade away,
a rip churns ready to drag
an unsuspecting soul
out to sea and far from sight,
slow thrashing limbs and time
to a still and thicken
living breath into brine.
The image troubles me
and sends my thoughts
a thousand miles
and a lifetime away
to when my uncle drowned
trying to rescue a child
swept out in a rip. He clings
to memory, the young brother
of my Mum, though I was
only eight years old.
He was twenty one.
hark!
the beach is calling my name!
there it is again!
i hear her when i clock in!
i hear her when i clock out!
i hear her in the center of my focus!
i hear here on every frickin break!
i'm telling you now, one day IMMEDIATELY after work,
i am gonna go straight to my old faithful!
i am gonna hit whatever number highway south!
i am gonna drive like the earned heart until my right foot goes to sleep!
i am gonna keep said sleeping foot on the doggone pedal like super glue stubbornness!
when i answer the beach's call, i am gonna park old faithful!
i am gonna walk ever so slowly across the beach access!
the instant my feet hit that wonderful sand, i am gonna rejoice!
the closer i get to the water, i am gonna rejoice some more!
at the first hint of the water's feeling and rehabilitative touch, i am gonna just wade!
at the point of full submergence, my attitude is gonna be....straight on up....DAMN THE WORLD!
....AND THERE YOU HAVE IT....AND BOOM....HERE I AM!
Along the road where moonbeams spill,
the gypsy wagons wander still.
Their lanterns swing like fireflies caught,
each wheel a whisper, each song a thought.
The fiddler hums a ghostly tune,
that weaves beneath the weeping moon.
A tambourine keeps time with dreams,
and horses wade through silver streams.
No map can mark the path they tread,
no stone remembers where they led.
They chase the winds, they court the skies,
with fortune shining in their eyes.
And if you chance to hear their song,
it means your heart won't rest for long.
For once you glimpse the roaming stars,
your soul will follow gypsy scars.
Blood running cold in my vain
Lost in the amber waves of grain .
Feeling so awkward walking without you
Thought at least one heart might beat true.
Day turning into night.
Going on just doesn't feel right.
Saw the light Just as it started to fade,
Into unknown tides I wade.
Lost to a dream
Now it is time to wake up, it would seem.
Cant stop running cause I'm hoping to find .
Something that was meant to be left behind.
In order to find my tomorrow Carring a heart I had to borrow .
Struggling just to find a way.
Gets harder each every day.
Would you be heading my way.
Past the stars,
Locked within invisible bars
beyond the dream state,
Beyond my very own fate,
Lies darkness only time can see past.
Yet in a heart beat time is gone so fast.
Can I someday hope for something more,
Than swinging door
Sitting there on the floor.
So many thoughts come and go.
Still you never show
Pain
rain
Standing alone in a world gone cold.
Watching the end start to unfold.
So many sights left to see.
The dreams yet to be .
Where do we go from here,
Is it to live in a world gripped in fear
Who will hold me dear.
As we slip into this void of hearts gone black.
Time is on the attack.
Beyond going back.
I really don't have a 'my story' life.
It seems to me that all that I have done, won, or lost
are due to a 'you'
that million-faced lover or foe.
I need to thank all those that stood in my way,
all who built walls of hate around me,
your story is my history.
Once my blood reacted
to the chemicals poured into words,
those poisoned letters
now taste like candy under my tongue.
I feel that person, see him or her
and long to congratulate them for taking me along
with their passion and their pain.
When a 'my story' begins to be your future,
when the past is a river crossing
we wade over together,
that might be the ending or another beginning.
The tale between the pages is ours,
and if I were a power as great as a moving pen
I would sign all your names
across my heart.
“What is the threefold flame of Christ consciousness, as it is, in its pristine essence, aglow within each of us?”
-Unseeking Seeker
The threefold flame of Christ,
It tugs at our hearts,
It reminds us of our timely sojourn,
Nothing we own of ourselves,
For all, we'll leave behind.
The threefold flame of Christ,
Interwoven into one piece,
Faith, hope and perseverance,
They bring us the promises,
They walk us into the inheritance.
We strive in a complex world,
Its mysteries are incomprehensible,
Our hands work assiduously for our desires,
We get part or all of them,
We part with them at the final call.
We are assured of a better place,
We are consoled by this promise,
Unharmed beauty resides within its walls,
Perfect peace permeates its space,
Gloom and lack do not lurk around.
The threefold flame of Christ,
Nothing more can guide our wandering hearts,
Help us wade through turbulent seas,
Keep us in uncertain times,
Rekindle our dying embers.
June 25, 2022,
Threefold Flame of Christ Poetry Contest
Unseeking Seeker