Long Actuality Poems
Long Actuality Poems. Below are the most popular long Actuality by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Actuality poems by poem length and keyword.
Why is ‘Almost Good Enough’
never what you need?
Why is ‘Clearly Not Enough’
an ounce more than you deserve?
Why is ‘Almost What You Need’
the most you’ll ever have?
Why is ‘It’s Not Only That’
the only thing that’s left?
Why is ‘In Almost Every Case’
not in any case at all?
Why is ‘In Lieu Of Everything Else’
the thing sure to be missed?
Why is ‘In Actuality’
in real terms actually not?
Why is ‘To Be Perfectly Honest With You’
the biggest lie you tell?
Why is the serious ‘Last Ditch Effort’
the one you continue to try?
Why is the ‘Absolute Final Time’
the one you repeat again?
Why is ‘Really’ not real at all
and spoken then in vain?
Why is ‘Probably’ not possible
or even close to that?
Why is the phrase ‘The Bottom Line’
the top of your agenda?
Why is the trusted ‘Old College Try’
strictly out of school?
Why is ‘Painstakingly Difficult’
the easiest thing you do?
Why is ‘No Sweat—The Deal Is Done’
so much harder than before?
Why is ‘Let’s Start At The Beginning’
the end of the debate?
Why is ‘The Last Word On The Matter’
the beginning of what comes next?
Why is ‘So What’ a euphemism
for the most important thing you do?
Why is ‘It Is What It Is’
categorically not, and never meant to be?
Why is ‘The Bull In The China Shop’
ceramic and for sale?
Why is the celebratory ‘Victory Lap’
the one taken in disgust?
Why is the magical ‘Three Point Shot’
four points more than its worth?
Why is the special ‘Love You Lost’
the only one you’ve never found?
Why is the figurative ‘Bird In Hand’
the one that flies away?
Why is ‘Bantering Back And Forth’
the silence you extol?
When will your words wrap like copper wire
to conduct the truth unrobbed
When will you cease to pander and mislead
—naked before the mob
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
Walking down a country road...
Each step a move toward serenity
In waves of light, promising
Joy that laughs through the gravely
Inspiration, the sensations
Brought to life in the heart of those
Who remember to listen…
Beyond the stones, the dust
Stories, words…
Past the memories, the charm
Into the richness of a thought
Buried beneath layers of ancient
History, hesitating, hoping…
Lingering in the whispers, the breath
Caught inside a chest
Who knows this is a walk of grace
The meaning of education, insight,
Poetry and praise, prayers
Beautiful and quiet wisdom
Smiling beyond the memories
Into the sensitivity, the assurance
Peace brought to life on the verge
Of a history, a moment
Caught in the heart
Pasted on the dreams,
Glued to the feelings
Emotional healing, willing
Each rich and vibrant emotion
To become an authentic experience
Actuality – genuine existence
Abiding in the spirit of one who listens
To the gentling of a walk…
The talk…
On a country road, a path
Toward the echo of silent hope,
The promise of a way….
Where God erases every cloud
With rainbows and grace – faith,
Seeking the heart who believes
In the restoration, salvation
Forgiveness that comes to life
Never doubting the sacrifice…
The saving of a soul
Who knows God is still in control
Walking down a country road…
Stirs to life the light
Raining down from on high,
Where Jesus, His Son, sighs…
Bringing hope and life
So we never need to die!
For the maneuvered inducement
of the compulsive being,
defined by the transmuting tenet of titular uniqueness,
configuring the personified convoluted identity,
changes in the self-devised palette of color mélange,
while the conjured chameleon furtively cocooned,
paints the shifting façade of disparaging deception.
In the ostensible enactment
of the prompted life’s incredible drama,
performance perfected in illusory one-act play,
and with the obsession of passion ostensible,
gilding the consequence crafted covertly
by metamorphic alchemic endeavor,
the surreptitious shift from one actor to another,
is an axiomatic designed drive of ambiguity.
Out of the limelight, the clandestine colors fade away
on the visage of degenerating virtual makeup,
the pallid original face morphs mystically into
the veracity mirror of fragile actuality,
replicating the real rendering of the sublime shape,
painted with the radiance of primal hue
of the unaltered distinctive disposition,
it personified once in the reflected image.
The spasm of contrived perception splits the mirror,
the shapeless shards of shattered reality
scatter as discarded debris blown away by wily air.
Metamorphosis creates the deluding creature,
an alien in its own transformed domain,
completes with the lattice of self-deceit
the contrasting paradigm of illusive shape shift.
What I love is the actuality of God
All day
Everyday
A fluid give and take
A being with God
Not just a going to church God
Not a God of scripture and things written
A living breathing every second of the day God
Call me a fool
What I love is my best friend God
My ..I am never alone God
I am accepted just as I am God
My never criticizing always forgiving
I am more than enough even though I am flawed God
My sees me as exquisite God
My hugs me at night and welcomes me into every new day God
My believes in me God
My God who is with me when I screw up and loves me just the same when I do something nice for others
Active, actual, ever here always laughing joyful God
My does not ask me to do anything nor rewards me for doing anything God
Because he loves me infinitum no matter what I do or don't do
Unconditional absolute acceptance God
Have you allowed yourself to really know him?
God
Doing what we do as a doer, we tend to sway
Owing to lower ego urges thus interfering
Knowing seeing is believing, as scriptures say
Becoming by non-doing, presence free flowing
Delighting in myriad hues of love manifest
Vivifying elixir divine, magnetising our form
Transcending mind body by ceasing to resist
Imbibing waves of ineffable bliss in swarms
Resting thought, abiding in pure awareness
Emptying out consciousness contracting toxins
Going along with the flow of love in blissfulness
Dancing with joy as bliss throb within heightens
Beginning thus in pristine stillness and silence
Transitioning to fullness by bliss percolation
Scintillating is the purity of childlike innocence
Drawing in divine grace in playful celebration
22-November-2020
i remember when you saw me in the devil's tattered and torn
the flinch was the pinch and i felt the tinge at every inch
my innermost persperation was inspiring convulsing chills as a merciless foe
i remember when you saw me in the devil's forgotten and forlorn
i recall the melancholy raindrops expressing the truth through the feeble theatrics of my acidic lie
the shake was a flake so easily exposed by the obviously expressive ache
my external mannequin was so horribly frostbitten by the flop of the frigid show
i recall the most brutally honest eye talk within the very heart of the most avoidable senselessness gone terribly awry
if i had the antidote to dissolve and dissipate,
i definately would not hesitate
to burn the milky white nucleus of your incomprehensible hate
that makes me melt in your memory in an altered state of wait
a black snowflake falls, and i find myelf wanting you
a white hailstone crashes, and i see myself flaunting you
an indecisive sun teases, and i forsee myself haunting you
a disappointed moon cries itself fuseless, and in the blind stillness of this remaining actuality, I....AM....SO....STILL....LONGING....YOU!!!!
Magnetic bliss tingle
bringing about rapture
an ineffable ecstasy
as a permanent feature
Accompanying calm
a tranquil continuum
our joy ineffable
delighting in freedom
Bubbles of agitation
yet sometimes arise
as a gentle reminder
that we are far from wise
Yet for the most part
many nodes within ignited
actuality of our being-ness
is that we remain delighted
Physicality of it is clear
the Sushumna throbbing
dwelling in unending climax
an elixirous thrill vivifying
Bliss then an orientation
bestowed by grace divine
wherein we be to become
as we acceptantly align
in stillness
21-September-2020
You aren’t blind to the pain in the world
The sorrow and sadness, worry and dread
The fears that overtake hearts
And dissuade dreams from being said
You aren’t someone who ignores the facts
The arguments for reality’s doubts
The burdens of concern that cover love
And darken the light that falls across hearts
You know the truth of life’s heartbreaks
Yet you never allow this actuality to get in the way
Of your love, your light, your laughter – your insight
You still give without expectation and live
Without giving in to the suspicions of distrust
You listen to your heart and follow your dreams
You welcome friendship and kindness and feelings
You hope and believe, have faith in the tomorrows
Who bring you renewal, fresh faith and a belief
That carries you away into silent reveries of grace
You are warm and kind – with a heart that delights
In giving generously, with a hand that is open
To presenting joy with unending faith in the knowing
That LOVE is the answer to every prayer breathed
Enea, at the Scottish Court
The critics claim that this is far the worst
of all the frescoes. Enea the star? No
inkling here. Can that be James the First?
And that’s the Clyde? It looks more like the Arno.
A spartan Stuart court? Or is it Bourbon?
Less Edinburgh in feel, and more Locarno.
Whoever saw Scots courtiers in turbans?
The ceiling is salubriously embossed,
more like the Vatican of sainted Urban!
Perhaps Enea’s Latin can’t be glossed,
for no-one’s listening, that much is certain.
One wonders what the marble columns cost.
And wrapped in that red robe (looks like a curtain!),
he seems to lack all gusto, all scintilla.
For this he braved the Beauly and the Burton?
There’s nothing interesting in the villa.
Less Donatello, more like Damien Hirst.
It wasn’t worth Charybdis, much less Scylla.
Enea Receives the Laurel Crown
Not only is he with the Emperor:
he’s kneeling to receive the laurel crown.
His deeds will be preserved in tempora,
his poems printed, bound and handed down.
What more can man achieve in life than this?
While many live and love, and toil in vain,
Enea’s standing on the precipice:
rewarded for that fine, well-nurtured brain.
So why am I uneasy? Read the signs.
And eagle savages a hapless duck.
The building seems all wrong. Wrong size, wrong lines.
And what’s it meant to be? Are you not struck
to see the woman on the loggia, being raped?
Pandora’s Box is open. Hope’s escaped.
Form and Matter
It all comes down to this, don’t you agree?
The Court of Charlemagne, the Holy See –
there’s Thought and Thing: idea, reality.
We’re in the presence room, but some are free
to stroll the colonnade at liberty.
Unyielding marble throne, lapped by a sea
of flowing silk: that’s how it has to be.
Enea kneels between eternity
and actuality: the Papacy
against the Empire. Physicality
abuts against the realm of sophistry.
I try …
I do
stay busy
fill time with things that occupy
my mind and muscles
take care of Mom
write
practice guitar
clean and organize
publish
back to the studio and
music production
stay busy
busier
busiest …
but even then
every time I turn around
each place I go
each thing I do
each activity I undertake
YOU were a part of -
made it special
made it joyous
made it shine …
from opening my
pied peepers to start the day
to laying down my noggin
weary … or not
every little moment held
the magic of your smile
the energy of your gentle spirit
and the promise of a day
supplemented with
your sweet aura
and unconditional -
unqualified -
love
and no matter WHAT I do
no matter how I fill my time
that critical element of my
waking moments
is GONE
forever
and that reality slaps
me in the face a
hundred hundred times a day
and always will.
there are times
when the pain is so intense that
I wish I didn’t have a heart -
that I didn’t feel or care or need
or have the
capacity for affection -
but then I realize that I’ve just
erased everything in my
life that is worth being
alive FOR …
I miss you more
than words can express
and the hole you left in my being
can never, ever be filled
but even after your passing
you continue to teach me
this one undeniable and
unshakable actuality:
that LOVE is
by far
the greatest force in the Universe
and more timeless
more formidable
more tenacious and true
than even …
death.