Long Work in progress Poems

Long Work in progress Poems. Below are the most popular long Work in progress by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Work in progress poems by poem length and keyword.


Keep the Focus

From zero to fresh focus:
No fads or "hocas-pocas,"
Occult tricks, nor superstitions,
Just go to Boot-Camp not institutions.
It's not about me.
It's to take a stand, you see,
A life if convictions;
Real-life risks, no fictions,
In live with Father-God and Jesus, 
His Only Son that can free us,
Unaffected by criticisms, just in Love
With other and their dialogues; all the above
Seeing hearts heal brokenness and change
With no pretense, our focus rearrange,
Processing seriously but not redundant
With you in joy abundant!
Unseen injuries make it hard work
The fears lurk!
What is expected or appreciated,
Not just reactions with heart emaciated?
Bring closure and see a prologue
To nearing the goal, remove the "log,"
Rebound in faith, never be a snob,
Nor sarcastic or the Mob.
So keep your focus and the Power
Of the resurrected Christ in your tower.
Self-control is gain
Like waiting, it's a pain!
But keep your focus clear.
Hear God's music in your inner-ear.
Yes, we are all a-work-in-progress.
It's safe and fine to regress. 
To vulnerability and keep involved.
Healing doesn't need all problems solved.
There's no natural-born leader.
In time we can also be a feeder.
So conquest the temporal and material.
Move in rebuilding the empire
Let Jesus' Way be your pick. 
Don't be a lonely cynic
Give others the benefit of the doubt
Wear a smile, not a pout.
Banish the evil of a derailed life
The enemy tries to bring in strife
Like the striking snake it'll be too slow
For you fly high; it's too low!
So prepare for success. 
Diligently sort the mess
All the way to the end.
Sign the Pledge not to bend;
To act, rebound, giving credit and devotion.
Like a sweet perfume or lovely lotion.
In prayer and fasting let negatives go
Study the Bible's fine print and know
That the challenge and the focus brings
Support, Light and salt-quality that sings!
Can you say what you feel?
In sincerity will your friendships seal?
We will find the common ground.
Honor and respect will be found.
If there's no logic nor gentle calm,
Will we feel the Spirit's balm?
Even pillow-fights will irritate,
The time move on with fate.
Surprises will loose their fun
With that Special Someone!
So, brace yourself, focus and move.
Soon your success you will prove
With All glory given to the Lord,
Never more to be bored.
Form: Rhyme


I Once Knew a Man

I Once Knew A Man
What happened to the man I met?

The one I fell desperately in love with

The one I thought was a God send

 

He was the one who reminded me that the ruff exterior I wore

Was simply a wall of defense I’d created as a way to protect myself from hurt

He reminded me that there was a softer side to me

That there was still someone out here who was able to notice the diamond that shined within

He made me believe that he understood that the hard exterior I wore was just a role played 
in an attempt to easily navigate between the worlds I live in

 

He made me feel comfortable talking to him about anything, everything and nothing at all

Never once believing judgment was being passed or that I was being looked down upon for 
decisions made that time and maturity have now shown me differently about

 

When we hit sticking points 

He showed me that it was okay to agree to disagree

To understand and embrace the individuality within each other

Respecting the fact that we each have our own mindsets and ways of thinking

To appreciate our differences and consider them as a blessing that someone has been put in 
out lives to show us a different perspective

 

He made me realize that some of the vilest, most degrading sexual fantasies I had

Could be turned into some of the softest, most tender moments by two people who cared 
about the others needs, wants & desires

 

The man allowed my inner child, long since locked away by the realities of adult life and 
responsibility, feel that she once again had a playmate

Someone who, for just a little while every now and again, wanted to leave reality behind

And just be

 

He made me believe that I’d found the one I’d been looking for

For so long

The one who’d love me

Unconditionally

Who’d protect me from all hurt, harm and danger

Someone who would never think to allow any of those things to come to me by his words or 
actions

 

Someone who’d take the time to try and understand the me that is me

Recognizing that I am a work in progress

That with each day, I take another step toward a better me

 

I knew that man

     once upon a time

I met him

And fell madly in love with him

If anyone sees him

Please tell him

I miss him dearly
© Erin Green  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Primordial Soup

It took some heavy digging and a lot of clever research.
But scientists have now explained in full detail how evolution works.
Finally it all comes together after much debate and so much time.
(To appeal to the little 'uns they even told it in rhyme).
"And from the mud-baths of primordial soup we came to be.
Rising from the currents of a ginormous boiling sea.
Once things cooled down a bit, leaving cells with room to breath,
things developed quite gradually,
as each individual body part became part of the team."
The Mouth said to the Ear:
You there! Get your Butt over here!
What the Mouth didn't yet know, however,
was that that the Butt was still processing
in some foul smelling black ether.
(Just ask Nose and he'll tell you clear as day,
that smell was nothing short of risque.)
Mouth's voice was very muffled you see,
lacking the Ear's wondrous ability
to take in sound.
You could see it for yourself if you wanted too
(still Eyeball was no where to be found).
Somewhere along the road the Head came rolling down.
He had great determination in his jaunt,
though those big gaping eye-holes were sure to haunt.
And after a two million year nap,
at long last, the Elbow and Knee Cap
came oozing their way from the horrid soup.
Once attached to Mouth and Vocal Chord, they beamed,
"Pee-YOU that reeks, if Stomach were here I'd surely turn green.
One sure develops an appetite after a billion year fast.
If someone doesn't throw me some grub I don't think I'll last!"
After such great struggle there was still so much to be done
Feet and Legs were still in a hot sweaty run
trying for a thousand years at least to find Crotch and Torso
(To make matters worse they needed Esophagus to get re-hydrated also!).
But after all that I think you will find the struggle worth it.
What great things can happen when we're all so close knit.
We're not perfect yet, as you can see, evolution is a work in progress.
Things could always improve, it just takes time to process.
One fellow man of science inquired a rough estimation
of just how long it would take to grow wings
(some bickering was involved, due to his ridiculous proposition).
The real concern is however being totally ignored,
of which I think you will be completely appalled.
It will probably take another 17 billion years,
at least, to get the Brain installed.

Sestina Style: O Wherefore Thou Is Thy Sestina Angelina?

(WORK IN PROGRESS)

O ,wherefore thou ,is thy Sestina Angelina?
she is not here ., thy love thy dove
thou angel eyes hover...oft high above
Tis thyself, a gentleman who doth wait
whilst  me dreams and longs to view her gracious gait 
I shall dwell ,tarry here in the dark
I must appeal to the day ; canst read her sonnets by dark
But , Joy ! Can hear the bells of her Villanelles.. me Angelina
Me beauty uses classical , graceful words that match her giddy gait
                          Me elegant ,enchanting dove
                           I shall remain, I shall wait

        For thou, Sestina thy Angelina sent from above                 
 I pace the earth with a weary  gait            
 Me mind wanders ; travels to heights above               
 longing for me heart,  me dove              
 whilst  me dwells,tarries, here in the dark                      
 imagining thyself  with Angelina                   
Thy Sestina , as  I , here , wait                     

                I cry, here, in the dark
                   float in thy head above
         O where, O where, is thy  turtle-dove?
                     Is she, too ,in the dark ,
                  Me angel face, Angelina ?
                     Shall I further wait?              
                I growest more weary to wait
                anticipation marks thy gait
       Still, no sign from me Sestina,Angelina!
                    I will pray to God above,
            on my knees, here, in the dark
         whilst I await the return of thy dove.    

        Alas! Hark, do I hear me dainte dove?
      Shall I run to greet her,or patiently , here, wait ?
               Shall I continue in this dark ?
  Where is she? Didst me not hear the crick of the gait?
Special Notice: Angelina not recorded here nor above!
 O , me , O me , O why, me Sestina Angelina ?!!   

O ,wherefore thou is thy Sestina Angelina; she is not here .,thy love thy dove
thou angel eyes hover...oft high above; Tis thyself, a gentleman who doth wait
whilst  me dreams and longs to view her gracious gait; I shall dweel here in the 
dark .                                                                                   





                                               Copyright McCuen 2008
© Mc Mc  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sestina

Voice

It feels like a whisper 
Can you hear it (hear it)
If I use it 
Will I fear it(fear it)
Will people understand
Where im coming from
Or would they care 
And with my feelings
Would they spare 
If I choose to speak up
Will they listen
Or stab me in the back
Am I Tripping (tripping)
Im not trying to become hoarse
I just want to have a voice

I hear,I listen (listen)
I pay attention 
I am a work in progress
Doesn't make my value any less
I feel , the need to be more than me 
Sometimes when you feels there's no choice
Stop being silent
Use your voice

How will the world know
You if you never spoke
Sat quiet
And just observed
When it came to you 
Not a word
But you want everybody
To hear you out
Its not about self
No that's not what's it about 
So where do you come off
With things kept
No one knows how you felt
You kept it in
In the end we all need a friend
No need to cry 
A voice can be cracked 
But never die
We all need a chance
To let our voice be heard again

I hear,I listen (listen)
I pay attention 
I am a work in progress
Doesn't make my value any less
I feel , the need to be more than me 
Sometimes when you feels there's no choice
Stop being silent
Use your voice

This song is dedicated to the children
Yes 
Your voice equals your success
How do you expect
For your voice 
To open
Its your tool 
Its your token
Dont sit there
And complain
Be the difference
Make a change
Whether its through song
Or through pain
In the end we all will gain
Whether its in life or a job
It doesn't have to be that hard 
Go for your dreams
Live in your passion
We are the world and the future
Do your best
Yes that suits ya
You'd be surprised
What you can do
With your mind
Use your voice and brilliant ideas at the same time
You can be what you want to be in life
Just have to sacrifice
Sometimes you have to try
And you'll realize 
Being heard is a choice
Dont remain silent
Use your voice

I hear,I listen (listen)
I pay attention 
I am a work in progress
Doesn't make my value any less
I feel , the need to be more than me 
Sometimes when you feels there's no choice
Stop being silent
Use your voice

Written By: Concetta Hardnett
12/22/2015
Form: ABC


THE PERSON I WANT TO BE

Staring at my reflection in the mirror,
I can barely recognize the person I’ve become.
A stranger stares right back at me,
Boring holes with those eyes,	
As she looks into my soul and pierces it with her gaze.

A shriek so loud escapes my lips,
A lump forms in my throat and I swallow way too hard,
Fear grips my heart and I bite my lips in response,
My hands trembling, eyes wide in horror,
Heart breaking apart with every alternate beat.

Tell me, what’s there to admire in a broken being?
What’s there to love and appreciate?
There’s nothing to admire about this stranger I’ve become,
Nothing to appreciate about the countless errors that I’ve become a part of life.
There’s really nothing to love about the person I am.

But, the person I want to be?
The one I dream of, day and night?
She’s loveable, worth appreciating
An epitome of perfections,
Not a mannequin of imperfections... like me.

Then a voice so soft and clear whispers,
Whispers amidst all the chaos in my head,
It takes a moment before I hear the words,
But, finally I did.
 And it said:

Don’t say that about yourself, hold on to that string 
That binds you to your true self,
The one who’s still there, waiting to be found and loved.
You’re not broken, you’re just a work in progress,
A masterpiece waiting to be completed.
So don’t give up, keep trying,
And one day, you’ll be the person you want to be.

Let the present you dream and future you achieve,
Draw the designs and paint the canvas later on.
For now, just focus on being kind to yourself,
And let your true self shine through.
Remember, you’re not just a person,
You’re a story, still unfolding.
So keep writing your own,
And watch as it unfolds with grace.

I let out a sigh and nod in affirmation,
Ready to become that person I dream of,
One who's brave and strong,
Thoughtful and beautiful,
A being of grace,
A beacon of hope,
A resilient soul that shines brightly.

I’ll pick up the pieces of my shattered heart,
And mend them with love and care.
I’ll rewrite my story,
And make it a masterpiece.
I’ll become the person I want to be,
A person who’s worthy of love and admiration,
And I’ll prove to myself that I can overcome anything.

Premium Member Breadcrumbs

I leave little Breadcrumbs...
Scattered here and there...
Sometimes left as obvious
Sometimes left without a care.

Clues to what I think about
Clues to where I've been
Clues to where I used to live
Clues to former sins.

Clues to all the things I love
Clues to the one's I used to love
Clues to what I dream about
Clues to what I think is High Above.

Clues to my hidden "Inner" self
That no one ever gets to see
Clues to help you understand
Both the Best and Worst of "me."

And so if you follow these little breadcrumbs
They'll lead you straight down my path to see
You'll come to understand what I am all about
You'll begin to understand what makes up "me."

You'll be able to see what's on the inside
Of the outside of what others perceive
You'll really get to know and love
All of the special things that are unique to what is "me."

I am not a simple person
I am not easy to understand
I am deeper than the oceans
I am made of many grains of sand.

I like to fly above the clouds
I like to sail across the seas
I like to feel my inner fire's flames burn bright
Fanned by the fuels of life's strong breeze.

I like to grow things from the earth
I like to plant knowledge from wisdom's seeds
I want to know the wheres and whys and whens
For what drives our Karmic Zen.

I have a love for beautiful things
Both current and from Eras long before
I am not afraid to try anything
I am not afraid to step through any door.

I am a work in progress
I keep growing and changing every day
I am not the kind of person
To always stay the same.

I have a thirst for music
I have a love of all earthly sounds
I have a hunger for a larger life
That supercedes these earthly bounds.

I have a desire to love and be loved
To feel that Passion from within
To someday meet the one who will complete me
Who will love me to my end.

And so if you follow my little Breadcrumbs
You could become a part of my life
You could end up being my lifelong friend
Or we could fall in love and be husband and wife.

(December 26, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved,
Form: Lyric

Delhi

19 million people, waking up in the morning,
going about their lives, from one corner to 
another, jumping on one route and reaching
another. Delhi, you beautiful beautiful city, 
I hear you carry, within, a soul so old that 
you age with time. Oh Delhi, you beautiful
mistake. 

19 million people, 573 sq. mi long city, 
so many lives, so many dreams. Delhi, you
infuriating mess. Ask anyone they'll have a
story to tell, of a time not known to you, a 
time not understood by me but a thousand 
people willing to stop and listen along with 
their daily cup of tea. 

Everyone in here experiences this city in a
way that quite differently do align, and they 
are definitely unconnected to mine. Mine 
starts with a gate, number 7 it seems,
a chamber block with III written on it and a
floor to see what is unseen. Oh Delhi,
you are so full of mysteries. 

On the 7th floor fire exit, you can see the 
glory of this city in one place. If you look at
the expanse, I swear you can fly. From the 
magnificence that is the Raisina Hill, running 
along the Parliament and the tricolored 
beauty of India gate. Hold on, wait for a 
moment. Absorb the lights, the Grandeur
and move one. 

The chilly breeze, often takes you with it to 
the never ending work in progress that is 
Pragati Maidan which literally translates 
to “progress grounds” and to the ruins of 
the Old fort, which once was the residence 
of the huge empire, resonates the losses 
and the gains.

The 7th floor fire exit captures the beauty 
that is Delhi, but it also takes you on a 
journey to the gems lost in time. If you look
around, you'll see the Jawaharlal Nehru 
Stadium, sitting on the high chair, looking 
down at the city. If you go a little further, 
you'll find the Lotus temple.

Right there, just there, stop and think. Look
beyond the temple and you'll find yourself.
You'll see where you've reached and the
place where you started from. Delhi, you are 
the reason for my suffering and the reason 
for my contentment.

There are 19 million people in this city and
the 7th floor, Chamber block III is my place
of solace.

Work In Progress

She!
Intimated by guilt broken by perplexity
Waiting for the love her life but until then,
committed to memories of forlorn moments
Threading on the joy rides of halcyon days.

 
Her! 
Heart of a woman in the depths solitude 
Plunged and played by people she called friends
Lonely soul tormented even by happy melodies
In her emptiness void her soul forever shivers.

 
He!
Four and half years in self enclosed walls
Loosing very essence of youthful love in a rage
Finally tumbled down the walls of solitude blind
Enclosed soul spirited away into the blues

 
Man!
Living in the love of the common people
Somewhere in the back streets of the slums
Upholding the dream of becoming a hero
With nothing more than hope and love from above.

 
Woman! 
Years upon years of sitting at lecture rooms
Graduated with a class but no pass for a job
You know the norm of the day
If it’s not in she won’t be on board
Keep calm hold onto your faith
God is at work .

 
You! 
Balancing ambition with conscience
On the road less traveled.
A tapestry of soul breaking fortuity
That eyes the very core of your maturity.
The start ups ,the gigs and realities you quest,
Gradually you will get there .

 
I
In my simple form in rolling waves
Light hearted or heavy ladened
With poetry or with spoken words
Even in my nothingness and in my woes
I will forever defy the cryptic void of silence.

 
She will smile .
Her heart will find home .
Man will find love .
She will be a wife ,A woman of dignity.
His dreams will come true.
Hold on to you faith and let’s go and get it,
Everything we’ve been dreaming.
God have our backs

 
We!
We are a work In progress
There will be fails but we will never regress
Steady and gradually we will evolve
In love and in laughter all the pain will dissolve
In due time when we are done,

 

They will thread here to see
From far and near they will travel over the seas
The atheist will sing hallelujah
The doubters will lurk in their disbelief
Our tales will be history
Our memories will be legacies
For we are a work in progress; Winners
within.
© Kofi Amed   Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Dissecting the Declaration of Independence

Dissect is a no-nonsense word, meaning to cut up, to cut open, to examine in detail.  My first recalled encounter with dissecting took place in my high school biology class where we dissected a frog.  That was more than 50 years ago, and I suspect that frog dissecting is no longer allowed. But a reexamination( a dissecting) of The Declaration of Independence is providing me an even greater appreciation for the determination of our forefathers to be liberated and free at all cost.                                                                                                

Were I to fully dissect the Declaration of Independence there would be multiple parts of the examination.  I will, therefore, be brief in exploring a few noteworthy aspects of the declaration.

In as much as their belief in equality was limited and selective, let it suffice to say that 'equality beliefs' was a work in progress.  But there can be no denial, history revisionists notwithstanding, that they were firm in their beliefs about Truth, Creator, Supreme Judge, God-Entitlements, and Divine Endowments.

243 years ago, thirteen colonies represented by 54 men declared their independence from Great Britain, the most powerful nation on earth.  They had very little military power but were energized with purpose and unity.  Clearly, the weapons of their warfare were not carnal but mighty through God.  They were neither fearless nor fools but very courageous.                              

They had no illusions of grandeur nor delusions of haloes, but their cause was just, their pursuit was righteous, and their reliance and dependency were upon The Supreme Judge of the world. With a trusting heart full of steam, never impeded by things they did not comprehend, impelled by a cause,
and pushing forward full speed ahead, they were 'all in'.  There was no doubt about their commitment as expressed in their own words in the last sentence, "And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor".
06282019cj
Form: Prose

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