Long Wins Poems
Long Wins Poems. Below are the most popular long Wins by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wins poems by poem length and keyword.
Speaking of peace
is at least not acting for further violence.
To speak about peace
with integrity
and power
is to speak peacefully,
confluently,
affluently and effluently,
from a position of heuristic left
and appreciative right
self/other integral inquiry.
Courageous wins
and curious wins
through co-empathic rediscovery,
all healthy souls are One, co-passioning
all souls are on our wealthy privileged/impoverished way
toward ZeroZone truths
with not not zero-sum ways.
To speak about world peace
without climate restoring justice,
is to re-cast Earth
as our impoverished unprivileged slave,
properly raped
and fracked
and drilled for plunder
wealthing without healthing
those of kleptocratic satiated anthro-centric privilege.
To speak about peace
with integrity
and power
is to speak peacefully,
win/win confluently,
from a position of healthy heuristic
and wealthy appreciative
inquiry.
May 17 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on 2Chronicles 25-27
Key Verse – 2Chronicles 25:9 …And the man of God answered, The LORD is able to give thee much more than this.
FAITH IN GOD WHO IS ABLE TO GIVE US MUCH MORE
God is able to give us much more by His generosity
As we trust Him with faith’s certainty
Since He can fill our souls to conquer spiritual poverty
Toward maturity and productivity, not leaving us empty.
God is able to give us much more by His provision
As we pray to Him with faith’s conviction and vision
Since He can satisfy our hearts from guilt-caused oppression
Toward contentment because of His compassion.
God is able to give us much more by His abundance
As we seek Him with faith’s perseverance
Since He can protect our stewardship against ignorance
Toward fruitfulness along our labour’s endurance.
God is able to give us much more by His divine wealthiness
As we depend on Him with faith’s steadfastness
Since He can supply our need to smite hopelessness
Toward thanksgiving for His answer to our prayer in His timeliness.
God is able to give us much more by His heavenly treasure
As we abide in Him with faith’s strength around His enclosure
Since He can reward our obedience beyond measure
Toward commendation that wins over challenging pressure.
God is able to give us much more by His blessing
As we praise Him with faith’s reinforcing
Since He can uphold our commitment to overcome cursing
Toward profitability in our ministerial pressing.
God is able to give us much more by His favour
As we serve Him with faith’s sweet savour
Since He can sweeten our devotion by His fellowship’s flavour
Toward triumph as we worship Him along His love’s fervour.
May 17, 2025
Hello day! I'm ready for you
Show me what you got
Try to put a kink in my armour
Just gimme your best shot
Go ahead I dare you, pal
Nothing can put me down
See this grin across my kisser
No way you can make it a frown
I really don't got no negatives
So how'd like dem apples
It won't do you no damn good
I'm a toughie for you ta grapple
You thought you had me yesterday
But I rebounded real quick
So don't you try ta mess with me
A fight is what makes me tick
My happiness is here to stay today
I feel it in me bones
Happiness wins another round
So you won't be hearing no moans!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Life isn't fair, as we would wish it to be under the clear sky,
And perhaps this is the first truth that silently touches our souls.
Some are born with more luck, love, or unknown riches,
While others fight with every step for a fragment of peace.
But that doesn't mean you're cut off from another universe,
Or that you're lost on the paths of the world, less valuable.
You're not a failure just because someone else arrived faster,
You're not less beautiful because someone else easily wins hearts.
You're not less worthy because someone else got the job,
The praise, or the smile you sought in others' eyes.
Stop the torment of watching others' lives as a spectacle,
Forgetting how to breathe, how to feel the rhythm of your own being.
You think you're lost, but you're just comparing your true reality
With others' moments of glory, a game of illusions and shadows.
Look up, you're still here, still trying to grow,
Even when it's quiet, when the applause is absent.
Your small steps still have weight and purpose in your universe,
Your slow days are still full of meaning and sense.
If today all you did was survive,
That's still a victory, a song of hope murmuring within you.
You don't have to prove your worth by running faster,
You're free to take the time you need, to rest, to find yourself.
You're free to be proud of the path you've walked, even if no one sees it.
This life may not be fair, but it is yours, in its pure essence.
And that is truly something beautiful, a gem hidden in the soul,
A truth that shines beyond the edges of the world.
if you question answers why answer questions
half the truth equals the whole lie
if you can't take it with you why leave it all behind
time takes time
wishful thinking leads to harsh realities
constant daydreams awaken into nightmares
a warm smile can heat a cold heart
time takes time
hesitate to procrastinate
hurry up to slow it down
fast as a snail's pace
patience wins the race
square it till its round
be early late
time takes time
yesterday was the future
tomorrow is now
today is the past
be first last
fast is slow
stop is go
seconds creep by
minutes slide
hours fly
years blow
time takes time
watches don't say
clocks don't tell
the roster crow's night to day
the moon lights
the sun shades
leaving stays
to forgive is divine but vengeance is the Lord's
a penny for your thoughts and you get what you pay for
constant entertainment makes life a bore
why buy love when the world's a whore
seldom comes
always goes
never is forever
forever is never
generations skip
eras pass
occasions last
instance blink
a phase stinks
age slips
time takes time
if your down for the count will you measure up
is seeing is believing can the blind have faith
why is the ocean saline if it's the salt of the earth
how does silence sound so loud
time takes time
Form:
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I tapped my keyboard, my eyes bleary
As I tried to write a novel that was no bore
I looked for inspiration, how to avoid clichés temptation
I’d write about rejuvenation—hope for the lonely lass Lenore—
An epic tale of a maiden born anew named Lenore—
A blockbuster for evermore.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
“I have writer’s block, Mr. Raven, perhaps thou might be a maven.
Though you be ghastly grim and ancient wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me can a modern writer craft prose that’s not a bore?”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“My idea that just can't lose, a crippled, homeless guy who likes booze
He’ll rise to fame and glory but I worry on some phrases in this story.
This and more I plan I’d write but the DEI staff might fight
On the plot’s blood and gore that tells life’s authentic core
Where from zero to hero, he’ll wins the fair Lenore
Wins her love forevermore!
The Raven looked pained and croaked "Nevermore!"
Then, the air got denser, this bird was a woke censor
A ghastly leftist bird who drifted over my parquet floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “who appointed thee—to impoverish my vocabulary
Give me respite – let me write my way the story of Lenore;
Don’t dilute my novel to be a crashing bore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
Is it possible nowadays to write a novel at all?
Can I earn more than zero, if I include a macho hero
A macho hero to clasp a demented maiden who won't be sore--
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore?”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the underworld’s dark shore!
“Don’t use ‘dark” said the Raven, “use BIPOC instead” as he continued sitting
On the pallid bust of Obama just above my chamber door;
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out my body that lies contorted on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
Medieval times
A time of splendour
With gallant Knights
Ladies so slender
Jousting tournaments
The ladies all squeal
Exploding of hoofs
The clash of steel
Enter the Black Knight
To a round of jeers
The White Knight enters
To resounding cheers
First pass no foul
They try it once more
The Knight in White
Slumps to the floor
They carry him off
And tend to his wounds
A Blue Knight appears
The ladies all swoon
The maidens favourite
Known far and wide
Lord Richard of Leeds
His lance by his side
They ready for battle
Shields are in place
Masks of armour
Covering their face
Towards each other
They gallop full speed
Lances held high
The snorting of steeds
The Black Knight falls
The hero wins out
Blue Knight celebrates
Victory in the joust
Approaching the King
Horse and rider bow
The people go wild
Allegiance they vow
Medieval times
Hail to the King
Jousting tournaments
What glory they bring
Summer nights in Centerville, sleeping on the top bunk bed;
A transistor radio playing low, lying right there near my head.
The Big Red Machine was in their prime; those boys could sure play ball;
I fell asleep every night listening to the play-by-play of Joe Nuxhall.
I entered my life of puberty with Charlie Hustle running to first;
Davey Concepcion turning two and Joe Morgan with a speedy burst.
Johnny Bench throwing out would be stealers, Pedro Borbon with a bending curve;
All happening on the summer of my first kiss – once I finally worked up the nerve.
With Tommy sleeping in the bed below – nary a care in the world,
George Foster launched an enormous shot while I tried to figure out the girls.
Jack Billingham was striking them out – an apt metaphor for my chances,
As I fantasized about dating girls while two bases Ken Griffey advances.
Tony Perez was still strapping them on; Don Gullet piled up some wins;
Cesar Geronimo owned center field while my hormones multiplied within.
Coming of age in Centerville, back in nineteen seventy-four,
Meant listening to the Cincinnati Reds while thinking about the girl next door.
Criminals feel they deserve whatever they desire
Morality isn’t relevant, its ruthlessness that they admire
Society owes them, it robbed their rightful portion
Criminologists describe this as cognitive distortion.
Elliot’s manifesto said he wanted to fit in,
Cast out, rejected, just couldn’t win
He wrote that women couldn’t see his value, his core
So, he killed six, and had plans to kill more
A man saw a pretty nurse, asked her to dance
“Mbarek," she said, "you don’t stand a chance."
He beat her down, was happy to confess
It was his right; she could have said yes.
A teen tried to shake hands with Josh, But Josh said no
Teen shot Josh dead, if not friend, he’s a foe
My guess is that the kid felt disrespected
Only right that Josh’s arrogance be corrected
A Muslim told a reporter: maybe the BBC
A hijab on each woman is his right to be free
A tank top is an offense in God’s sight
And telling you what to wear is his right
You might think, that’s not so bad
But his wish-list has hands cut, seems kind of rad.
Some believe healthcare’s a right, housing too
Free college where you wonder where four years flew
But nothing is free, someone bears the cost
Freedom’s precious, grab too much, it’s lost
Entitled to hate, but not when words become acts
Seek the truth, but don’t invent your own facts
Some manipulate, they like to control
Your body not enough, they want also your soul
Their freedom must end, where your freedom begins
It’s every generation’s war, fight or no one wins.
Stars watch me in my sleep
Sleep in the endless deep
Deep dark swallows my soul
Soul beaten in the dark so full
Full of nothing, just a simple void
Void wins, my light destroyed
Destroyed light but not my wisdom
Wisdom gives greater clarity than any other system
System gone, but not my understanding
Understanding now, void has no standing
Standing with no body, lack of power
Power is mine at the most important hour
Hour past, now the stars are gone
Gone no longer the day has been drawn
Drawn to obscure the night that still remains
Remains but only the body that a spirit feigns
Feigns life and power that never existed
Existed only the watching stars that, for me, assisted