Long Abyss Poems
Long Abyss Poems. Below are the most popular long Abyss by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Abyss poems by poem length and keyword.
solemn bay
falling teardrops like rain
from grey clouds of bane
thunder rolls across the soulless bay
lightning strikes a hearts shudder
down
down
down
sinks the pleasure tide
a place where
destressed waves toss and turn
against the up and down
the to and fro
chaos lurks
then shouts out to have its say
solemn bay
a place where
ships become shipwrecks
tighter
tighter
twists the sailors knots
till they become tattered and frayed
treasure sinks to a mighty depth
then
into the abyss drowns silver and gold
solemn bay
a place where
out of the gloom birds fly by
singing a cheerless nighttime song
where
a blackbird sings along
solemn bay
a place where
dreams of a warming sun
is a reality of cold and grey
and out of the hollow the hurricane blows
a frenzy chaos of confusion
coming up from the undertow
~
Crystallized moon beams,
fractured light of endless desires
shimmer on you as our eyes meet
beneath a canopy of gemstone brilliance
Pearl buttons glisten as fingers touch
and your smile grants permission,
leaving me breathless
Serenity of the night serenades
our hearts in silent yearnings
Your skin, sweet of perfumed nectar
scents the evening in aromatic siftings
A sultry sigh floats wispily to the heavens
as we lay entwined on feathery grass
exploring each other amidst whispering winds
City lights twinkle, reflections on the bay,
unaware of our love, our moment
Leaves trickle to earth like tiny wings
as I gaze upon your silhouette,
mysterious against this velvet sky
Still beauty falls like summer rain
drenching my sight with you
A full moon stares down smiling,
happily enchanted by our movements
The distant horizon mirrors us,
lingering upward at your charm,
feeling every pulsation of affection
Blissfully seeking deeper meaning as
you gaze down in hypnotic peering
Harmonic exhales sing in a sensual duet,
echoing through tree lined vistas
Increasing in tempo, you fall to my lips
dampened by melodic rapture
Fevered vibrations rhythmically sway,
while constellations dance,
effervescent patterns on an ebony abyss
A shooting star trails your murmured gasp,
comets collide within, intensely exploding,
illuminating our endless dreams
Simultaneous sensations glisten,
ecstasy quivers in stardust sprinkling
on our hearts as the evening blushes
in the shade of love
~
Last year, time ended in a waterfall:
it crashed into yet another abyss,
desperate to grab onto an
intangible hope for air.
Last year, time ended like a sunset:
known and predictable,
a Godly sphere
looping. Omnipotent.
Last year, time ended beside a snowman:
a melting smile of understanding,
a misplaced coal tooth, carrot nose bent
against the inevitable heats of Spring.
Calendar pages fold like a lightbulb’s flash,
and watches tick like a child’s attention;
decades drift like flotsam lost, waving,
and jetsam surveying, searching,
for a cork to stop the ages from passing
again through fingers
wrinkling.
Someone stuck in the tunnel
dug in the desolate desert of deprivation,
doesn’t know what conceived in notion
constitutes the rationale of the thing
people of perception define
as the art of living, etched by elusive mirage,
in the free ambit of lively sunshine,
flooding the oasis of sanguinity.
Survival struggle pushes desperately
the languished life into the dark abyss,
breaks the fragile frame of the fleeting future,
the shards are thrown as the moments unlived,
in the debris of abject rejection,
unable to rise from the clasping chasm,
even if arduously tried.
Failing to find the escape route in the dark,
can’t kindle the candle of hope
to light up the unseen elusive end
of the gloomy tunnel of time,
but survival instinct lingers within bleak confine,
motivates to crawl frenziedly to the illusive future.
The meadow of florid translucent mind,
clear of convoluted shadows of confusion,
cast by the jagged thicket of ambiguity,
glows in the transit of fleeting moments,
rippling in the cascade of time,
latticed with the momentary luster
of the passing rays of sunset spectrum.
The sensitive passion, sparkling secretly
with the sequins of ever transient euphoria,
configures with evanescent radiance of certainty
the undeniable rational context of perception,
conveying everything has time to come and go,
for time stops for no one.
THE ULTIMATE FREEDOM
Walking the life up the steep hill path,
the prying eyes glued to the sparkling rocks
that conceals some pristine crystals of diamond,
I spend all my time to search, unearth and possess.
On the top of the blue hill a palace I see,
its beauty allures me with its golden shine.
The soaring wings of desire grows indomitably,
take me flying there craving to enter and occupy.
Through the enticing portals I fly inside,
the palace instantly turns into a golden cage,
and I lose the expanse of the open sky I adore,
as my freedom fades away to the mirage of nothing.
In the waterfront nearby, from behind the bars
I see raindrops on the cradle of the lotus leaves,
glistening in joy as they dance free in the breeze,
unattached to the embrace of the beguiling green.
As I take an introspective flight deep within me
the bird called desire morphs to detached dew drops,
happily shimmering on the petals of the serene soul,
the golden cage disappears with the melted mirage.
In dark abyss of obsessive chase for the transients
the journey ends, and as the unsighted light appears,
a new voyage begins from nothing to something ecstatic,
and from something to nirvana, the ultimate freedom.
March 30, 2019
UNGODLY PEOPLE BURNING IN HELL
Foolish, folly;
Ungodly people;
Calling crying from hell;
Caught in the caucus of the abyss;
No one there nor here;
Able to give a cool drink;
Ungodly people;
Never repented;
Souls not saved;
Eternal damnation;
Burning its self up forever;
Calling crying from hell;
Ungodly people;
Those fallen whom have fell;
One who do not posses wisdom;
Of behavior is described as folly;
Within their disobedient;
Man's the world wisdom is folly;
Wisdom based on only human intellect their folly
Never repented;
Souls not saved;
Eternal damnation;
Burning its self up forever;
Calling crying from hell;
Ungodly people;
Never repented, never received God's grace;
Now forever burning in this place
Ungodly people;
Burning in hell;
11/19/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
Angel rift star dust
In one hand
The sun
In the other
The moon
In the mind
The earth
In the heart
The space to comprise it all
But I have skimmed the rim of the abyss
Stood on the edge of a ledge and blew it a kiss
Took a dive from so high to enjoy the freefall
Than I stayed for a day in the heart of sheol
I got those streamlined moves timed to avoid the hate
I got those sidelined hooves signed by the eye of fate
I'm dipping diamonds in gold for the souls that you sold
I'm lifting layers of lies from the beats you baptized
Using that haptic magic
Fantastic acoustic
Let the mind drift
The heart combust
Tripping on my angel rift star dust
We Survive Instead of Burn
We waste our light just to extend a shadow passing through,
And our life's a forgotten ritual lost in the fog of a lonely dream,
We live like candles burning in the wind, our flame grown cold and blue,
We survive — beautifully blind — like angels fallen from the seam.
The madness of optimization has drained us of our blood, our mystery, our ember,
We compensate the abyss of being with bodies greased in counterfeit immortality,
We're like dead stars still shining on — spectral, strange, a fading member,
And we mistake the echo of a life for a stage lit up on burnt-out ground, in all its false reality.
Production is the new opium with which we put our deeper selves to sleep,
Performance — a beautiful illusion embroidered on a silken burial shroud,
We're compared to rivers that forget the sea, slow, without a cliff to keep,
Flowing perfectly and hollow through cold worlds of digits, untouched, unbowed.
Intensity sleeps inside us under heavy layers of consumption and haze,
We've numbed within the soul everything that burned with fire and pure melancholy,
Like forgotten gods inside their own temple, blind throughout their days,
We survive magnificently — and die with every breath, with every enmity.
But somewhere in me there still boils a magic blood, old as the world's first light,
A wild flame that refuses the chain, the number, and the silence,
It knows that to exist means to burn yourself alive — and claim what's right,
That life is not survival — it's a sacred fire, it's the burning, it's the tide.
He mourned the loss of his love, for whose support his soul’s survival had come to desperately rely: Lenore!~ the only one less judgmental of his irrational, often self-destructive, passionate nature; who had committed herself loyally to embracing and nurturing Poe's celebratory poetic genius. Oh!~his tormented heart yearned, hopelessly seeking the peace, rest, comfort, an out-of-control creative furnace kept at taunting distance. Day and night, a throng of demons haunted his pen -- and her love, his only elixir of longevity. When she perished, so in spirit did he. Lenore, who had saved his immortal psyche from the abyss, was gone...and sealed then was his fate. Let it be stated, evil he was not! Insane? No writer of worth approaches the precipice normally; one does not begin such sojourn without the consultation of unseen protagonist-stars and other intangible celestial guides. The coffin he entered, dove deeply into dank crypts far more timid shrank from while yet alive; confronted phantoms of morbid despair and oblivion; sank with them in suffocating, evermore dreadful gloom, to suffer as they on their own abysmal turfs – remiss if not to speculate: like hideous creatures many of us will face upon death -- far less armed...for, unlike he~ not knowing.
I will never love again he said how that phrase tormented my own head. Not knowing him but just a few months I hesitate if I dare to confront. I’m at war with myself do I tell him my thoughts or should I hide them inside so they don’t get caught. You see I’ve been walking a line that’s so fine. Ive fallen for a man whose heart maybe blind. I ponder is it possible that I can pretend to not care living a lie while I’m breathing his air. I tell myself put the pen down you will ruin things just wait but I don’t listen to that voice I seal my fate. Now why are you doing this to yourself everything’s fine don’t go and ruin things all of the time. But my heart is so full of words unspoken knowing that doing this it will be broken I still write. Line after line all of my feelings telling him how his smile is appealing His sheets are wet with my tears he will never know how much I hold him dear. Pages and pages of nothing but words that I feel I gave him a way out in my letter what the heck am I thinking how is this better. Would it not be less painful sticking around seeing if perhaps his heart can be found. Oh how I wish I were smarter then this. Now I just sit in my own black abyss. I folded my note and put it where it would be found and walked out the door with not much of a sound. He was shoveling the snow off his driveway and I’m thinking please please see things my way. I stole a quick kiss and said goodbye not knowing if that would be it forever and personally my own heart I severed. I backed out slowly and stopped just for that last smile on his face and nothing will ever ever take it’s place. Yes I unfortunately fell in love with this man I’m not even for sure if he would understand. Now I sit and I wait for a text that says it’s ok your crazy at times will take things day by day. Instead there’s just silence that was the the other choice that I gave. I’ve texted him afterwards Telling him I don’t want him to leave but all I can now do is just grieve. I cry for the lost I created with mearly a note and my own heart that I broke. I can say I’m sorry please forgive me I’ll walk that fine line if you need pretending to not care about you but my heart will know that’s certainly not true. So I sit and I wait and what do you think I hear nothing but the silence that I feared.
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