Long Woefully Poems
Long Woefully Poems. Below are the most popular long Woefully by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Woefully poems by poem length and keyword.
This April night, the jasmines sigh
a gentle, fragrant breath
like fallen stars, they watch the sky
envious of death
Tethered, earthbound, by their vines
how cruel, these crafty ropes
yet still they fail now to confine
the faintest of all hopes
When upon the stroke of midnight
the moon became as blood
vermillion shadows snuff the light
now outshone by a bud
A single, white, celestial bloom
with dew each petal drips
gazes at the scarlet moon
so woefully eclipsed
While stars can live for eons
star jasmines live one moon
both own the night like neon
though one is gone too soon
A blood moon, even rarer still
envies every star
a prophecy too soon fulfilled
yet leaves no lasting scar
When the last jasmine flourishes
for me, sad joy it brings
while ruby moonlight nourishes
and silver starlets sing
And how it wishes, how it yearns
to escape this earthly sphere
and twinkle down each lyric learned
to this observer here.
*written during the “blood moon” eclipse
that took place on April 14th, 2014
“It's gettin' hard to please 'em
You start to feel the rub
You know it isn't easy
Well, welcome to the club
Come on and join us in the club.”
– Joe Walsh
The marquee glares with brilliant light.
A talent takes stage to delight.
Too many hours, too long the show
Painful pressure in too hot glow.
How much more can they surely take
before they crumble and then break?
They are ever pressured for more
and always seem stressed to the core.
What more is left after they give
memories for fans to relive?
Choking on their artistic fame,
each breath becomes a burning flame.
Fraught with fear of losing the edge.
closer and closer they get to the ledge,
Woefully, they bend, twist, and crack;
pushed too far to ever come back.
Might 27 be given
to those depressively driven?
Another club’s members alive;
the ones who struggle, yet survive.
There are days when I feel so much anxiety
My heart seems to echo the screams of nervousness
My soul lingers in doubt, disillusion and despair
My mind can’t figure out how to listen to His voice
Whispering joy, hope and faith… so I have a choice
It’s during these dark moments of life…
When fear and sorrow fill me with strife
That I know a prayer is the way to express
Feelings that dim my vision, my faith, my light
With shadows of regret, sadness, distress
All of the grief that so woefully reflects
My worry and disillusion, my dread and confusion
When I finally realize the answer to my pain
Comes with the plea of a prayer to my friend
The One who blesses, hallows and sanctifies
The One who shows love even when I’m wicked
The One who allows me to bring Him my shame
As He heals me, fulfills me, satisfies my needs
With a kindness that overwhelms, a love that is
Pure and sweet, more alive than I could explain
Yes… there are days, times when I can’t pray
I don’t always know how to express my heart or soul
But I do always know He is alive and He is there for me
The comforter, the faithful One, the hope and peace
The One who I believe will free me from my fears and tears
He will guide me in the right direction, heal my heart
Relieve my worries and doubts, encourage me to shout “Victory!”
Because with Him, there is only one need that I have…
The need to praise Him, the One who saved me…
With adoration, worship that shines a light of faith…
Joy that shows up when I realize I know my Savior
He is worthy of my praise… He is worthy of my love
He is the light from above that shines hope into my soul
I praise Him with my every thought, every dream, every chance
To give a small token of appreciation to the One who I call…
My blessed Savior!
I’m so grateful for His grace!
~ DENTAL DRAMA ~
Heart leaping as a leopard, wildly.
Room spinning as a tornado, so violently!
X-Rays shoved in my mouth here and then, there.
My sweaty palms grasp the arms of the leather chair.
Plastic-masked, monsters with huge needles they come.
Making my jaw, dead and so woefully, numb.
The drama, the fear, all was for naught.
Pain from suffering was given, so blessedly sought!
February 19, 2020
2:30pm PST
"Writing is my refuge. It's where I go. It's where I find that integrity I have."
~ Charles Bartlett Johnson
Whenever my days seem long
and all my tasks turn out wrong,
And I wish the things I had not said
and feels like turning over and play dead...
Ha, I sit down ruefully and I write!
When someone somewhere gets hurt
When a lively flower bites the dirt
When somewhere someone’s heart breaks
and sneaks into a corner and quietly aches...
Oh, I sit down woefully and I write!
On the wings of the wind I write
On the waves of the sea I write
I write for all to see, feel and hear,
Write I about love, hate, faith and fear...
O yeah, lo! Now thou know why I write.
~04/03/23
~Contest: Writing Challenge 'R' words
~Sponsor: Constance La France
Sometimes, I am given to wonder, why poetry
and stark reality must be torn so asunder?
Why the huge stress on a new babies cheeks?
When governments worldwide totally reek?
Why is winter weather or a flower so adored?
While all nations have food shortages that are
woefully ignored!
This is in in no way a denial that wonderful
things do exist!
Nor do I encourage writing a poem, with the shades of Oliver Twist!
Poems that have but a hint of how we actually are?
End up unread, and as unknown, as the planet Mars!
Short, and meaningless, oh yes, these are ogled and read like crazy.
Poetry that requires a pinch of thought, ends up, pushing up daisies!
11/23/2022
The vaccine is coming.
We wait
feeling the angst of the abandoned
searching the horizon
for the tip of a sail
a glimpse at a rescue.
We wait.
Each one silently shouting:
"PICK ME!" "PICK ME!"
Stoically acknowledging
those chosen before us.
Flashbacks of being the last one chosen
for a schoolyard game haunt us,
virtue shaming us to the back of the line.
We wait
as the shore drifts farther away
our grip on the float weakens
our hope lies becalmed
in the idle rhetoric
of blind vitriolic visionaries.
We wait
Hats in hand, heads down
woefully whispering:
"Please sir, may I have some more?"
John G. Lawless
12/14/2020
But, now you rest in this old room-
alone upon a carpet, worn;
surrounded by neglect and gloom-
abandoned- woefully forlorn.
What joyous times you did command!
But, now you rest in this old room-
once brought to life beneath each hand
of students in this old classroom.
For sure, upon this prized heirloom,
once nimble fingers graced your keys.
But, now you rest in this old room
where pupils played with pride to please.
Oh, old piano, no more songs
come forth from this, your dormant tomb!
Your worth- in memory belongs-
but, now you rest in this old room.
January 22, 2020
~1st Place~
Contest: Strand Choice O
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 03/24/2020
~1st Place~
Contest: Distant Refrains
Sponsor: Joseph May
Judged: 02/15/2020
Your teeth mutilate my flesh
My sinews, my muscles rotting
As you cry, “I am your master!”
As I reply, “I am your life!”
You eat me daily when you are weak
And leave me waiting when you are strong
I neither belong to you,
Nor am I separate from you
You carry me along your journeys
Like a heavy dream on your mind
And I wait for the night to come
To remind you,
Your nightmares are me
And you—fresh and scorching
From the moment you bit into me
I became all your malnourishment
And this I will always remind you:
That I am still woefully here
That I am painfully alive
And in and out of this path you tread,
Till the day you die,
You will always be mine
In the vein of protracted revenge,
The Dark Fire of night will begin.
Scorching all it touches, inducing agony.
Comes a gleeful sneer knowing death will flee.
Mournful living shadows of sheer hopelessness.
They seek their prey among the woefully depressed.
Only the prophetic story of the past foretells nightmares end.
The tomb of torturous hell will violently shake and bend.
The gates are ruptured as a very thin ray of light shines in.
And all of hells kingdom is crumbling from within.
But, which hell is described here?
Is it our own creation of this hell we fear?
It is! For as in our collective conscious, it was created.
Foretelling of this hell to others they become sedated.
Now hell is slowly being destroyed as one by one they leave.
Each found pure love from our Father as they begin to believe.
We partake in the Great sharing of Joyful Love.
It never left us, but it came into us like a dove.
So beloved, please always express your love to our sisters and brothers
For Love is our Law that brings in beauty and joy like no other.