Long Without Poems
Long Without Poems. Below are the most popular long Without by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Without poems by poem length and keyword.
So unbelievably alive
A man puts out his fishing net
Without even a slight breeze or breath
while he waits … on the wriggling fish
Fluctuations in the sound of seagulls
A universe for the silent man
listening, longing and living
Exquisitely flight in all the right places
how could they knows
no harm from the sharp edges
They will hunt again tomorrow
In a sky blue horizon
and a crystal clear hymn from the ocean
All develop over time, with humility
Like the waves consume along the coast
19/02/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
I live in an oasis
One formed by the power of electricity
To pump day and night
From The River.
Day and night everyone along its shores
Waters their crops and yards, gardens and fields.
In the few years I’ve lived here
I’ve planted almost 500 trees and shrubs
To transform an old alfalfa field
Into a thicket of greens
Haven for mice and snakes, birds and bees.
Every day I faithfully reroute the irrigation
So that in a week it all gets watered.
If I don’t within just a few weeks
Everything would stop growing
And within just a few months
Everything would be dead.
It’s sobering to realize how tenuous our hold
On a place is.
Without electricity this whole farming valley
Would dry up and wither away.
With electricity, coming in fact from the water itself,
It is an oasis of life, calm and green
Filled with the joy of birds and bees
Humans and their trees.
My own place in it is temporary of course
But someone will come after
To keep the pumps going
Keep the sprinklers flowing
Until they don’t
And this moment in time is forgotten
As all things must be.
(5/5/26)
Looking at the world around me
many glimpses of God I see.
Clues to His existence abound,
everywhere they can be found.
Human intelligence declares,
that man indeed God’s image bears.
Mankind’s ability to speak,
shows humans share a Divine streak.
The Divine consciousness in man
is evidence of God’s wise plan.
He implanted in man a prod,
to help him connect with his God.
The love of parents for a child
reminds of Jesus meek and mild.
The kindness that a stranger shares,
reveals a loving God who cares.
The hushed hunger in human hearts,
for meaning that in shadows darts,
points to the God whose mind instilled,
this need that only He could fill.
Man’s quest for justice and fairness,
stems from God's image which he bears.
His knowledge of the wrong and right,
reveals God’s infinite insight.
Through floods, storms, thunder, and lightning,
God shows His great power and might.
Smiling flowers and singing birds,
speak of God’s care, though without words.
The order in nature displays,
God’s wisdom and his wondrous ways.
The moon and starry hosts declare,
His sovereignty and loving care.
The brilliance of the noonday sun,
mirrors the glory of God’s Son.
The flawless flow from night to day,
reveals the pattern God did lay.
Many, the clues to God ignore,
while others nature’s clues adore.
The glimpses point the soul to God,
so mankind can his Maker laud.
Heal the haunting shallowness inside
Steal away the taunting distress so wide
Shards of the rusty chains that severely pulled me down once…
Has disappeared into ash and dust — thanks to Your response
Always waiting for what lies beneath
I can’t even breathe, can’t even breathe
Through the flames of uncertainty, uncertainty
Through the blames thrown at each other thoughtlessly
Wanting more than I get
Sick of sinking in regret
Haunting is your voice within and there’s no going back
It’s a single needle in a haystack, needle in a haystack
You pierced me with pridefulness
I’m in this horrid bewildering mess
You assume that your lies can cradle you to safety
You are doomed from the start; it won’t set you free!
You fiercefully forced me to make love to you
The healing process begins with hurting — true
It starts with you and I with or without wings
Play me like glimmering, sacred guitar strings
Shards of the rusty chains that severely pulled me down once…
Has disappeared into ash and dust — thanks to Your response
The healing process begins with hurting — true
It’s the harm and charm that you have I can’t undo
Shards of the rusty chains that severely pulled me down once…
Has disappeared into ash and dust — thanks to Your response
The healing process begins with hurting — true
It’s the weight of your embracing arms and what they do
Preface: This was written long ago and I, just by the way of surviving see things a little different these days. BUT! I am going to post it anyway. MERRY CHRISTMAS! :)
Christmas is coming and theres nothing I can do.
Its become the hardest time of year since the day that I lost you.
People hurry scurry and skidoo.
While I'm locked inside and feeling blue.
These bars upon my window, they're not made of steel.
And that you cannot see them, doesn't mean that they're not real.
I've called out in anger.
And I've called out in prayer.
But silence is the only sound that fills the empty air.
I spend christmas eve with family galore.
Then I pick up my few gifts and head out through the door.
Its strange, because I never thought that I'd become.
A sorrowful, lonely, tired old bum.
When 40 years old is still yet to come.
Destiny doesn't always play fair.
If it did, in your heart I'd know that you still care.
But I know now that someone else sits in my place.
At your dining room table all covered with lace.
So home with my empty and tired old soul.
Where ever Santa only brought me a small lump of coal.
Another lonely christmas, without a doubt.
Dear Jesus, please tell me, just what's it all about?
Was It Worth It?
Where did it go?
I knew so many that had the passion
Protests against government abuse
Refusing to live without questions
Why do men have to die in a war to conquer others?
Guns, bullets and death for an extra acre of land
All coming from the desire of one man
A man who plays God
Sending the young to fight for him
Dying for him in fields a half a world away
Did he have a choice whether to fight or not?
Why did the government send him that piece of paper?
Who decided that he was the one to go?
Did he even know that Vietnam was a country?
He left right after school
Never able to find out about life or love
Now, his blood stains a small patch of land
Worthless land on the edge of a rice paddy
What did the man in Washington gain from his death?
Did he even know the young man died?
He doesn’t care
He got his small piece of land
The five inches where the boy died
Was it worth it?
Was it worth a young man losing his life?
Ask the man in Washington
Ask the government the people elected
Ask the family who buried their son on a Tuesday
Everyone should ask of every young man killed to fight a war
Was it worth it?
I don’t know much about love
But I know one thing for sure
“Love is love” gets it all wrong.
Who and what do you love?
Because it makes all the difference.
Do you love Satan or God?
Do you love only yourself or others?
Do you love peace and freedom,
Or tyranny and mayhem?
What, who and how you love
Is more important than simply loving
Without discernment, without judgement
Because that selfish love isn’t really love
It’s just selfish lust in disguise.
And selfish lust is certainly a thing in itself,
A natural thing we all deal with,
It just isn’t love.
What is love then?
Ask yourself who do you love.
(8/20/26)
She waits for me so silently with a welcome befitting one loved unconditionally. Great waters abound, but a storm-free sea she offers me, taking away all my insecurities. Oh, what a sight to see, so awesome and friendly, so vast, so mobile, so seemingly endless. A haven away from manmade trails and all that ails, like a pillow to lay me down and rest. Oh, my soul, as I look over the horizon like a breath-taking sunset, for me she waits; she glows. Oh, the beauty and joy of knowing one is highly loved, and to see arms opened wide like gentle winds sweeping low tides to the shore. After a long sunny day, I'm feeling favored and like being touched by The Divine as I prepare for my daily recline and hover over the sea I best know. This soul of mine has learned to live peacefully with gratitude and without regrets, but never trouble-free as I face trials good for me. And now my soul feels alive like the sun as it sets and slowly slips into the sea; a sea void of hurricanes and tsunami-free. I see the beckoning of the Everlasting One and next to him, the Resurrected One. Nevermore glorious, it's the Sea of God prepared for me to live with Him eternally.
041120PoSpCtest, Slipping Soul Sunsets Into The Sea.
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Time's money, this's how it's seen by monetary agency
Wiser men have modified it saying ‘Time’s currency’
An invaluable wealth, time you should never squander
No bank can help you once for money you wander
“Time and tide wait for no man”, affirms the wise
Be keen to do everything in allotted time n’ space
Like waves, which wait for none, time will advance
By staying idle, we may never get one more chance
Each one is granted a fixed quantum of time
And each second passes with a silent chime
Those who handle time without enough caution
May later regret and can land in utter perdition
As the pendulum of time swings
Each day, to infinity, steadily wings
Time is like a diminishing bank account
Nothing can be added to the existing amount
Time wasted should be our greatest regret
It is precious and irredeemable, never forget
Before infirmities set in, earn what you can
For life on Earth has only a short span
With a knock upon my dressing room doors
I enter stage right to rapturous applause
And I sit before a white grand piano
So excited to perform
Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue
Such a treat for me to play
It would be a major coup
This masterpiece a challenge
So without further ado
A saxophone is heard
the audience sits without a word
Though excitement makes them burst into applause
Then silence
as I start to play my piano concerto
I am lost within my music
on a journey who knows where to
So please sit back ~ relax ~ and enjoy my first recital
As I venture on this journey concentration it is vital
Now at home sat in the comfort of my cosy chintz armchair
No piano can be seen ~ for there is no piano there
But deep within my mind’s eye I am reigning supreme
I am there upon that stage
I am living the dream
Written 9th October 2019
3RD PLACE
Contest: Living the Dream
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Contest: Strand Special 12
Sponsor: Brian Strand
3RD PLACE