Long Ages ago Poems
Long Ages ago Poems. Below are the most popular long Ages ago by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ages ago poems by poem length and keyword.
Mine emotionally fraught days of yore
spilt presentiment tinged blood
into sucker punched battle fatigued
war weary veteran.
He (yours truly) doth
presently ramble, scrabble, and trundle
across gutted landscape
strewn with psychological potsherds.
Oppressive alienation hashtags me as outcast,
where new born babes technical abilities surpassed
scant infantile savviness (mine)
spurring notion, whereby yours truly
lived ages ago, when pace of life sedate
compared with present era in contrast.
Impossible mission to side step
cratered pock marked cerebral terrain
punctuating terra incognita courtesy disequilibrium
severely disrupting ability to function,
especially distractions issued out radio waves
regarding same Christmas songs
playing every hour.
I can't shake loose
being metaphorically entangled
cumulative detritus analogous geologic,
chronologic, and audiologic tracks laid down
since conception wrought
indelible grooves within noggin.
Risk averse demeanor
kept me hermetically sealed
against positive growth experiences
and (bully me)
not sequestered nor singled
out as token scapegoat,
whereby (wherein) psyche
relentlessly, quintessentially,
and painfully assaulted.
I too unwittingly, guiltily,
approvingly and willingly
allowed, enabled, and provided
unrepentant thugs to unleash brickbats
sticks and stones
(also Daily hurled at Georgie,
a Boxer/Dalmatian mix breed)
when our family Audubon, Pennsylvania.
Nevertheless, despite experiencing
horrendous childhood grievances,
I revere boyhood good times
a shy, (albeit rather socially withdrawn) kid
oblivious to danger
safely and securely affixed
to mother's apron strings.
Yepper, yours truly a bonafide mama's boy
severing figurative umbilical cord I could not deploy
even now as an aging baby boomer,
viz yule eyes long hair pencil necked geek,
I experience social anxiety,
when feigning hobnobbing amidst hoi polloi.
My gypsy heart is restless.....
I’ve been here too long
too long....
the fields alive with paths that lead....lead...
there, to the edge of the earth and sky
the minstrel sings that sing
of places of my dreams sing...sing...
to my gypsy heart
the unknown, untasted, untouched, untraveled is calling.....
Calling...
Ah..........
don’t bind me
don’t keep me
don’t....don't beg me to stay
don’t claim me with the promises of yesterday
today is today
I want to fly away
don’t hold me back
The gypsy in me hears voices
You cannot hear
for fear
My dear....
You have no gypsy heart
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At midnight....tonight
Yes.....tonight
I will slip out the door
hand in hand with mistress night
I will take flight
while my family sleeps
and my heart weeps
while the stars make a place
and the moon hides her face
while the night breeze carries me
I will break free...
My love,
I’ve been here too long
Too long..........
When you wake
and your heart starts to shake
For heaven's sake..
~~~ forgive me~~~~
The call of my gypsy heart
Would not be still
there was another place
another thrill
and so
against my will
these cravings to fill
I slipped away
I'm not....far...far away
Forgive me, I pray
For this gypsy heart
could no longer bear
to
stay
Eileen Manassian
I've always been fascinated by the gypsy life. My favorite Disney character is Esmeralda from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I found this pic today while looking for something else and I thought....I have to repost my gypsy heart poem from ages ago. Hope you enjoy it.
1.
The skies so seemed blue,
The sun was the only entity
My eyes knew.
The forest was hollow,
Embraced by light,
It welcomed the little heart,
With a charming smile.
There was no worry,
Of the emerging night,
The lamps were never extinguished,
The fire kept burning,
If the dark wanted to stay.
A good life indeed, so ages ago,
I now see the clouds emerge
With a laughter of cruel,
The rain showers as the darkness blooms.
The forests are now thicker,
The light refuses its doors,
It remains shrouded in mystery,
A scary place indeed.
The emerging night now scares me,
The lamp is now mine,
The flint may not induce sparks,
The fire may get extinguished,
I hope, the night leaves early.
2.
I call out with unspoken words,
The longing, the wait with no end,
But has always been met by the echoes of silence.
The wait is painful,
A play of deceit.
A dream calls out,
Leads me through its colourful hallways,
To a door of veil.
The veil is shattered,
Leaving me in a hopeless void.
But the heart never stops to dream,
Oh! Its young and innocent,
It doesn't care the treason,
As long the dream it sees.
A dream of a sea of stars
And their reflections in the lake
A silhouette of beauty waits,
By the lake she stands,
The lake smiles at her presence,
The wind plays with her hair,
She smiles, as our eyes meet.
A dream of passion,
One that can make a man sing the song of youth,
And one that can wither the very leaves of life.
I now look helplessly,
Into the horizon of infinity,
Everyday has now become a disappointment
When the dream doesn't ripen into reality.
3.
The Lamentations are true indeed,
They greet me in my silent hours,
I see images of a sweeter reality,
The delight of a witness,
And the sadness of the reality.
Lamentations are not easy to let go,
They are the trees of divine nectar,
Flowers of divine beauty.
A sight the eyes don't want to leave,
The eyes refuse to move
And they become at one with the trees.
But soon, the flood will come,
With a devastating step
And I, deafened by the sweet chirps,
Will perish in the water,
Carried to a land of barren life,
At which I shall stare for eternity.
Date : 23th July, 2022
the bane …
of complacency
the enemy of apathetic ids
an all-consuming blade of inspiration
you, mighty weapon
have slain the fiercest dragons of
detachment and disregard that
humanity has brought against you
and I, a knight of notation,
wield you with an authority graced to me
by a vivid imagination
and a child’s whimsical heart …
oh, I do not take your might for granted
nor underestimate your license …
I remove you from your scabbard
in deepest consideration -
your hilt, I grasp with awe
your edge, I apply in deference and fear
for the wounds I affect
are deep and lasting …
you are the Excalibur of inspiration
pulled from a stone of indifference
by the grandest of acumens and spirits
long, long ages ago …
I take up your glyphic garland
with pride and honor
and an undying respect for
the numberless warriors who came before me
and whose names are a prayer
upon these pious lips …
a prayer for you …
my pen.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, January 4, 2024
A hole in the head shooting pain trembles
nightshades coldly down the spine
a soul lost in the land of the living
carried away in darkness
flying inside dark clouds holding just a dream
Distant thunder roars lightening splitting cracks
sure as the crow flies crawling opens hells gates
dark jewels of the night
charred remains churning in a cauldron
boiling goodness tears of thoughts
Piercing screams spawning nightmares
holding a promise once made
walking in a valley amongst the dead
shadows now smile hearing animals scream
as the moon plays silver dancing light
Dreams snatched away from reality
the crow calls echoes in silence
victims of this world howling over and back
tragedy cries in their pain and suffering
eyes seeking light
whispers through the branches
a heather bleat creature of the night calls
Haunted by humans chained to the earth
awaiting shadows and sunsets
a cursed banshee wails supernatural screams
from everywhere and nowhere
Mind numbing winds passing through
a white silhouette shredded shroud
around a heart entombed
in agonies' twilight shades clouds darken
storms brewed stirring specters chase the wind
Cold rains become lost tears
the willow weeps in eternal sorrows
a lament for the dead
as the silver crescent moon smiles goodbye
Blends in clear as day after sunrise
forgotten in a valley of unrest
death bell's toll out from the past
onyx feathered crows call painful cries
Forever seeking heaven's gate now sealed
that promised choice was lost ages ago
only burning hellfires
or cold earthworms await
Written by: Liam McDaid & Kelly Deschler
Greys, Part III
Temerity, the crux of the Human Way -
We dominate what we can,
Deride the rest -
But the heart speaks in terms the tongue cannot frame,
Suggesting the worst is a part of our best
The ashen taste behind the use of insignificant powers
Tempers our pride in the midst of triumphant hours.
Beneath the greening of the summerwarmed Earth
Corruption proceeds in its slow work
Feeding the living on the fruits of its breakage
Of the form and substance of the dead.
The cold rain slanting down from leaden clouds
Softens and enlivens roots deep in the loam,
The desiccated pulp of yesterday's life
Many voices speak
In the pattering tears of the sky:
Many voices, not understood by the educated mind,
Not grasped by refined understandings:
Heard, interpreted in the dark chambers
At the center of the soul,
Where the meanings of things old as this world
Quietly abide,
Resting in the silent center -
The fertile graveyard of our primal thoughts.
The rain calls to us through its wall of grey
Addressing our Pride
Mixing truths forgotten with truths regained
The rain speaks, saying, among other things -
What are the monuments of Men
The works of their timid day?
The mountains that this Earth brought forth
In fevered fury, long ages ago
Have long outlasted the whole of your race.
These are Her monuments, and yet
For all their strength and glory,
I -
The humble soft rain,
I -
Have washed away whole chains of them;
For I persist,
Returning and returning,
Ages but moments to me.
We can watch our glories dissolve
Stone upon stone, great edifices rise
To crumble and fall again
Forgotten and fractured, always being replaced
By other stones upon stones
Which will decay in their due turn.
Impermanence is the standard
Of human affairs
The common complaint in which everyone shares
Consider with me those things that do last,
Thoughts and emotions which fade not with the past.
you …
lay among the
sheets, as still as death itself
tho' your bosom rises-and-falls with
gentle breaths …
what do you dream, my darling?
oh surely of fancies that
shame this trembling night …
moonlight thru louvers paints you -
slices your form into porcelain
shards of luster …
I wonder, are the dark portions mine?
have you and your god avowed a
share to my madness?
or are they the stripes of your lord
given in redress to haunt me?
your eyelids quiver, dreams rolling
them forth-and-back -
please let those meanderings be of us,
when we were happy ...
do you remember?
oh, such love we shared those ages ago
far removed from the realities of
a full moon and the fiery curse that
sears my veins and marrow …
how I long to press my lips to your
eyes in waking, as then …
but that is too close - yes, far too close …
pray, what have I become, my love
that I long for blood over being?
if only you knew the monster, here -
the beast born of flesh
that considers you now in slumber -
tossing a mental coin for your love ...
or life …
please - please awaken now, my darling
drive a stake of passion through my aged heart -
hasten, lest the hungers take me over
and you perish for the sake of
this delirium ...
of the moon ...
and me.
2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 21 Poetry Contest
Mark Toney - Judge & Sponsor
October 9, 2025
still a tree
longingly with lashes,
barely seen through wrinkly lids —
a mother, a child of ages ago
yearns for a ten foot tree.
with strength of a weaker sort,
eyes still sparkle and shine
for former ways, days that blink.
bags the artificial with receipt.
turns her eyes toward Charlie Brown.
her tears shall wrap the miniscule pine,
lift its sighing boughs, kissed with ribbon’d rose.
her smile makes it stand up soldier straight.
for Christmas day she cannot wait.
12/24/2019
#In_your_Glass_house
I Asked for your name,
you gave me more than what I requested
Instead you opened your heart for me.
Your most precious part.
Minded not my intentions,
maybe in me you too saw peace.
Like a toddler, you led me in into your most fragile spaces, tenderly held my emotions with soft innocent hands, into your glass house
Somewhere not only special to you but sacred.
You trusted me, without care and fear.
A stroke to my wondering mind,
I too let loose and flowed with the orientation,
lil did I know, I will learn to be comfortable, something I relearnt ages ago.
Let off my gut, my fears and insecurities,
for your innocence eased all my stiff life bolts.
There in your glass house, everything looked perfect
Your aura, your smile, your voice and your laughter
Got mirred but those purified ornaments,
Lost to words, mesmerized by reality which still to date still refusing to surface, in disbelief!
You too perfect to digress
Too beautiful to not hypnotize
Too pure to not fall for
In your glass house,
I too wanna reside
Wanna learn
Wanna grow
And be nourished
Maybe I would shed all the pain life has saveged me with. Maybe be purified too, maybe deeper, cleansed.
In your glass house, you have welcomed me with all my flaws and scars, accepted me and showered me with nothing more than your purest form on love.
In your glass house, I feel safe, welcomed, accepted than anywhere else in the world
ever been received.
In your glass house I feel belonging
In your glass house I'm home
In your glass house I'm loved
In your glass house I'm appreciated
In your glass house I'm accepted
Cherished, celebrated, loved and stunned
Allow me too
To be your glass house
Your safe haven
Your asylum
Your fate
Your eternity
For in this house
I too don't wanna leave
I wanna be permanent
In your glass house
I wanna be native.
#Poetic_Ink
The Ancient Stone Wall
Green fields going on forever
Traveled by Romans, Celts and Brits alike
They each left their marks before they left
Walls built ages ago still stand
Made of rocks dug by hand
Carried by slaves taken from conquered peoples
Thousands of them stacked one by one
Each one a piece of art on its own
Covered by dull green moss
Ferns grow in their narrow cracks
They go on for countless miles
No one really knows who made them
Their names were lost to history
Still they are remembered
Their legacy remains in an ancient stone wall
Rocks placed with their sweat and blood
A timeless memorial to their spirit
Something that says the they were there