Long With attention Poems
Long With attention Poems. Below are the most popular long With attention by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long With attention poems by poem length and keyword.
What are objects?
a silly question many will say
an interruption to things of importance..
the chair is the chair..now on to my
daily schedule..uninterrupted please..
however..after much searching to
satisfy desires..pausing with the question
might be finally reconsidered..finding that
an inbred belief in objects can be rattled
with attention to experience..telling of the
frailty of of such belief..
we experience in wholes..not in chairs
claiming their independence..
the chair reconsidered shows up as
perception temporarily..then perceiving..
a walking back to the Reality which
has been quietly waiting for
recognition..
those objects we knew before the question
now appear as they always appeared
but somehow now..satisfying the desires
we had painfully pursued...
I’ve put up these walls for long
trying to appear cold and strong
And for long I’ve hardened my heart
Now tell me, isn’t that smart?
I’ve been fooled and I’ve been used
Broken, battered and abused
And I only have myself to blame
For hoping I can win that nasty game
My pain is hard to put aside
My past hard to forget
And this has been a tough long ride
Along with bitterness and regret
And when you look and smile my way
Showering me with attention
I wonder if you’re here to stay
Or it’s just my imagination?
Your sweet-loving glances
Slowly crumbles my reservation
making me believe in second chances
When you said, I’m your inspiration
My love I hope it’s not lip service
For I can’t survive another pain
The warmth of your hugs and kisses
Seems to tell me, I can be happy again
The walls I’ve put up seems to crumble
Every time you look into my eyes
And each time I fall down and stumble
you’re always there helping me rise
Thank you for teaching me how to fly
My broken heart you mend
I will forever be your sky
And always, you’re my wind
________END_________
There is another version of this poem.
The Wind's point of view.
Please take time to read my other Poem
" Wind: Loving Sky"
You might also want to check
Rain: Loving Storm and
Storm : Loving Rain ..
Appreciate you taking time to read my art everyone!
God bless us all
xoxo
I am but one now, and not another prior
Never before have I trodden this path
Never before have I lived this hour
I need not do the history or the math
If my history consisted of endless days
If my distant past revealed a different me
I'd be, not human, but divine and amazed
I would not need a savior to set me free
My purpose, built-in with destiny; set with attention
My future status will be far more than 'An also ran'
My origin was formed with precision and intention
Moreover, my past was not happenstance but planned
To a past that never was will I not CLING
My existence is not a multiple-choice test
Never upon a fantasy will I place my being
But upon much surer promises, I will rest
So, with certainty, I CLING to the image-maker
I am neither puzzled by fate nor by the lottery
I was created by one who is a promise keeper
I am nestled in the bosom of the Almighty
My mind is always running like an overflowing faucet
Like a never ending bouncing ball that someone took and tossed it
Paid for with attention that I forgot how much it costed
As my mind will sometimes lose itself and I forget just where I lost it
A mind is that a beautiful place yet it can also be very scary
As those with sight to read the mind all readers be wary
Like the venom of a beautiful plant flaunting poison berries
Poison thoughts can rot the mind and the perspective that it carries
What would it be like to explore another mind
Is it like a whimsical circus from thoughts of different kinds
Or would it be a calming stream to help leave troubles behind
Perhaps reality is an illusion conjured from the thoughts we find
As my mind sits in mental slumber
I sit in a corner and sometimes wonder
How I allowed myself to be pulled under
By my own mental blunders
Still thoughts run like a marathon with no intent of stopping
Time would steal a moment's notice while seconds continue dropping
As time sheds into the past the present continues cropping
For time is neither round nor linear but explodes the moment popping
Times combustion blinds the mind stealing that which it most wants
Memories reflecting the past with the regret that serves to haunt
The present steals the frown from the past wearing a smile that taunts
Reminding thoughts that the confidence it bears comes from the pain it flaunts
In the past, when the present seemed to be facing a downward slope
As if the foot of reality lost its traction slipping on water and soap
When falling to an inverted sky reality extends a rope
Some may call the extension luck while others call it hope
Or maybe faith, hope and luck stem from the same fibers of thought
Like time catching us in the moment thinking it is time we have caught
Reminding us of something we don't know but ought
Control what you can control for time we can not
We have handed over control
to a phantom, that insane inner voice
we name the 'ego'.
Listen not to those demanding monologues
look not to their twisted reasoning.
Do not fight with its recitations
give them no credence.
Such thoughts come
from the invasive roots of fear,
do not feed them with attention.
Don't identify with its words,
it will talk to us
as if it were our own true thoughts
yet they are not, they never ever were.
Turn your mind away
neglect and ignore
the ego's attempts to persuade
and coerce.
Our real thoughts emerge
from that space we create from silence,
there the ego holds no sway,
there its mad dialogues
can be easily expunged
with just a simple and knowing smile
of pure awareness.
insecurities got you kicking men when their down
you say you want the best for people as you watched me drown
and it went on for so long without the benefit of the doubt
when life became most serious your help was never found
and you can con yourself and put his traits down as Italian
but no one buys it mate cuz he's a moody Maid Marion
others feel accomplished with the kids and wife their married to....
but I rejected her mate while she rejected you!
and I don't believe that Rayanne was the sole hurt for Durbz
his pain pissed boys off telling him disturbing words
annoyed he was in trouble they all went and made it worse
the guilty conscience showed on the day he's in a hearse
cuz you aint got time for others 'less you're in a crowd!
when you can show how great you are so all will think you proud!
it's very different scenes in private laughing out so loud!
I'm sorry to have to say it but that's what you're all about,
you said you wished you helped him out whilst you all kept me down
you did it through the banter which profoundly spread around
when I was mocked seen different to what I am about
you were pissed off with attention my tribute found
and I'm the sort to stand alone and shout my feelings out
so you can say I'm talking shhh, repeat it oh so loud
but others that I talk too don't seem to share your doubt
it's as though your actions caused your lying words to be found out
I love my wife with claws so sharp
Tentacles sure to squeeze me tight
The fangs that sink into my heart
Consuming blood for pleasure
Keeping me alive vampire like for money
One eye positioned at the center of her head
Another one in back behind the hair
For good measure to watch me coming
And going from the past with attention to detail
A glare, like a lighthouse blinking out hope
A beacon from my giant uni-brow wife
Guiding me on to the right side of the rocks
Where crashes are inevitable up ahead
Nearer to heaven than one might expect
I know what is good but she knows better
It is best to keep ones mouth shut in front of honey
My one hump hunchback. Why not make it three
Through troubled waters she is still my wifie pooh
According to her decree and she is always creepy
Watching me from the back
Parting her hair in the middle just a little
Which is no small matter but a little scary
I don't really know her name but that's ok
She stands ten feet tall or better
Carries a machete in her iron clad hands
She is my two eyed wife with one in the front
And the other out back which is fine
So long as they both don't stare at the same time
Sometimes I'm afraid
I'm a man and men don't understand
It is better to do as she says because she is enormous
I love her because she is there
And she never misses with a knife
She is the misses and I am always in her sights
On entering the confessional we should kneel, make the sign of the Cross and say to the priest, Bless me Father; then add I confess to Almighty God and to you Father, that I have sinned
The first things we should tell the priest in the Confession are the time of your last confession, and whether he said the penance and went to Holy Communion
After telling the time of our last Confession and Communion we should confess all the mortal sins we have committed, and all the venial sins we may wish to mention
When the confessor asks us questions we must answer them truthfully and clearly
After telling our sins we should listen with attention to the advice which the confessor may think proper to give
We should end confession by saying I also accuse myself of all the sins of my past life, telling if we choose one or several of our past sins
While the priest is giving us absolution we should from our heart renew the act of contrition
What have you done oh God of my heart
with love of a man you have filled every part
there was peace here once now it is gone
I stand alone though to him I belong
Why is it always the ones that I love
never return that gift from above
Love was supposed to bring us joy
but the one I love I seem to annoy
will I find peace in the dust of death
it seems more desirable than a heart bereft
for in death is the comfort of peace
wherefore the pangs of life seeks release
no toils , no trouble , six feet below
away from the fates I have come to know
beneath pale moon and her starry sky
to you alone whose tears hear me cry
my heart and its parts were given to you
to what I have learned I have tried to be true
the pyre of desire and I walk in its flame
a prison I cannot seem to its name
conflict and strife abiding here now
in a place that had peace alongside my vow
a crimson tide has washed my soul
the seeds of desire have taken their toll
I think I need freedom if I am to live
but my heart to another it seems you would give
what good can it do him if he cannot see
the depth of the loving dwelling in me
why I ask why have you done this thing
where is the joy you hoped to him bring
this one is very long if you wish to complete the
reading please use this link as it is 777 characters
over whats allowed.......www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=448188090980
in fact I have more than several I cannot post as
they are too long for apparently those with attention
deficit disorder...
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
9I have a little drinking pot
It’s been everywhere with me
Ive used it every single day
For brewing my Rosie Lee.
I've looked after my pot
With attention and care
Its lovely brown patina
Coating inside everywhere.
It adds a certain depth
To every single brew.
Best pot care tradition, just
One of those things you do.
I’d quickly rinse my pot
Every single day
Just a cold water splash in
The approved squaddie way
Maybe just once a quarter
A quick hot water soak
Care of a man’s pot
Just isn’t any joke
Of course I wash the outside
Morning noon and night
So that it presents an exterior
Gleaming hygienically white.
I’m sat here in horror
Unhappiness and despair
Somebody’s washed my pot,
The patina’s no longer there.
The inside now is just
A gleaming joskin white
And I’ll swear on my boots
Rosie Lee just don’t taste right.
I know who went and did it
But I don’t like to say
So I’ve taken my little pot
And hidden it away..
It may take months to restore it
To its proper brewing state,
But I’ve got infinite patience
So I’ll just watch and wait
As the brown slowly builds
To cover the hideous white.
I know it can’t be much longer
Before my Rosie Lee tastes right.
You can steal my girlfriend,
Borrow everything I’ve got,
But for pity’s sake please
Don’t touch my brewing pot.