Long Allies Poems
Long Allies Poems. Below are the most popular long Allies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Allies poems by poem length and keyword.
I threw a penny down a wishing well
But I didn’t make a wish
I was returning a wish
I had been holding onto this penny for awhile
Thinking that my wish would return back to me
But that’s not how life works
A wish only has so much life to it
I wish it could be eternal
I wish it could last as long as time
But it doesn’t
It can’t
It won’t
Sadly my time with my wish ran out
It was a grand time
A life that I wish I could relive every day
Just once more to feel the embers before they became ash once more
Just once more to feel my pocket vibrate from a notification from a person that had a picture for their contact
Just once more to feel the pulses of our bodies merge into one as our fingers intertwine
Just once more for our planets to reside in the same solar system
But my luck ran out
The hands of time slowed down
The sand in the hourglass finally stopped trickling down
That’s when the penny started to rust
That’s when you started to look different from the day we met
You looked more in pain than you ever had
You looked beautiful as you stood there drawing out the love we shared from my veins
I don’t regret anything
I regret not being the perfect Knight in your fairytale
For a Knight dressed in black, I only slay my allies not my enemies
I hope wherever you are
Wherever you go
Whoever you meet
You’ll find a home
You’ll find warm hands and a soft shoulder to rest your head
You’ll find a heart pure, untainted by horrors and sin
I return this wish to the wishing well
Hoping that it will do you some good, as it did with me before.
Sickness depresses my spirit
And shut down the doors of the sense organs
My soul recoils within the shell of my body
My heart retreats to a solemn feast.
There is within the flesh a great void of vanity
The spirit ruminates on bizarre planes
Seeking the verity of essence and elevation
To life is indifference, death becomes a handy foe.
Life and death are allies to trickery;
For we neither could sleep nor wake
At day overcome by a sleep-in-consciousness
And night, burdened by the waking-in-slumber.
The mind conjures up blurry images
Through grim eyes veers hallucination
The head goes a spiral in nocturnal planetary
As the body on a bed of limbo is confined.
Monotonous drone of air in empty jar whirred
Round and round the head dome
Whose sinew and vigor once thrive but now
Whose nerve and wit have become vain.
In sickness the body and spirit convulsed
And brings heaven and hell to closer horizon:
The body’s nourishments are repulsed by it
The spirit retreats from life’s elevations.
The Supreme comes to the fore of reason
Above all ambitions and abundance,
Which are subject to breath; when it runs afoul,
We shall again ponder its mystery, in sickness!
I'm the darkest creature of the night, watching over marshes;
crickets fear me, making themselves invisible in grasslands.
I am harmless, merely an owl courting sister moon so lonely;
I take the nests of other birds that were devastated by squalls.
My enemies are the despicable bats that flap so vigorously.
I don't move, perched on a branch, I show them my claws...
they are a sure threat to make them move to another spot;
if they return, I'll fight to death until they decide to depart.
I am the scariest creature of the night, furred in black and gray;
this king of the wastelands, forests and plains is undefeatable;
although during the day, I hide in the hallowed trunk of an oak,
eagles constantly fly by unable to snatch me and be their prey.
Daytime keeps me from the outside world, and like bats I sleep;
many other creatures smaller than I crawl in bushes and shrubs...
such are lizards chased by snakes, but their speed is incredible.
Only in winter I am lethargic, in spring I hear frogs that croak;
of all the nocturnal fowls, I crave shadows in which frogs leap;
I can't befriend creature or man, only ants that gather crumbs.
I live in a bleak kingdom of moonbeams, of spells, of human sacrifices;
it's the mysterious realm of witches, wizards, harlots and spirits;
Lucifer is worshipped with bloody rites, virgins are slaughtered:
above God weeps unable to stop such a satanic madness!
No one hears the screams of death deep in the blazing woods,
they continue under my very glance, I alone seem powerless!
Were I a godly man, no cruelty would be done on this ground;
angels would be my allies, we'll defeat this wickedness with swords!
God made me an owl to stare and gleam through darkness;
if I started cooing, daft souls doing evil would come to their senses!
Entered in Eve Roper's contest,
" Owl Personification Form "
Written on 2/7/2016
Martin Luther King,
and other gospel reared nonviolent communications leaders,
advocated for "Beloved Communities."
An important difference between Beloved and Opulent may have to do with integrity,
intimacy,
interior grace of sacred loved place
in opulent EarthTribe enriching space.
I hope that any ego-centering and re-centering relationship of love may become embraced by warmly interdependent ecosystemic surroundings, supporting bioregionally polycultural opulence,
resonance,
expanding out into sacred green and red and blue and yellow and orange and purple and turquoise non-violent resilience.
Opulent polyculturing communities learn to minimize win/lose competitive health risks by optimizing wealthy, resilient win/win opportunities.
Intent and planning and budgeting and cooperative design work
play mini-retreats to richly engage compassionate communication, verbal narratives, as residents feel safe in mutual transparency,
rooted in nonverbal beloved feelings, co-empathically polytheistic,
for and from wildly green wiki win/win womanist allies.
Emerging from chronically stressed, opulent pearls of indigenous wisdom, ancient sacred overwhelming waves of ecstatic emotions inspire today's interdependent opulent spell-binding synergetic experiences.
Jesus's Holy Spirit openly, quietly, shadow GoldenRules again.
Sacred experiences range from
middling win/lose images of stressed humane/divine relationships of passive mistrust;
then down through traumatic monoculturing, monotheistic, monopolistic stressed despairing lack of relationship;
and then soaring to heights of win/win beloved ego core soul centers and ecosystemic healthy and safe multicultural opulence.
An illusion of Beloved EgoPrivilege becomes mountainously hierarchical Yang from above, peak patriarchal-capitalist engorgement experience.
Meanwhile Opulent EcoParadise engages ecologically enthymematic regenerative tissues
with degenerative issues
unresolved by bipolar illusions against Yang's privileged autonomy, dominance,
like right handedness
and logical verbal mindedness
and not self-abandoned nakedness
cooperative pleasure
copassionate joy.
As I age in place
into awareness of replaceability
I bow to humbling curiosity,
Whether more anxious
or anticipating,
I remain conflicted
About predicting
a win/win global healthy climate
sustainable outcome
In which my own anthroprivileged species
grows in ecological curiosity
and theological humility
Enough for winning healthy Earth
restoring justice,
inclusive
or exclusive?
of us.
A peaceful paradise of curious promise
for resiliently wealthy
multicultural ecofeminists
of all seeing/hearing EarthMother species
AND our leftbrain dominant
StraightWhiteMale capital growing fragile
and increasingly wounded Allies
Or will this Great Green Transition
end and recycle back again
a healthier peace and justice Earth
devoid of inhumane
predative
overpopulated rabid hetero-unsapient pests?
While this winEarth/loseAnthros
heart-stopping vision fails to mention
all the further kinship species
we have already helped exterminate
and will continue to take out with us,
Still
stunned
shunned
I remain quietly hopeful
that a seventh great extinction
might never come to be
before Second Comings
Of Edenic Civility
bereft of straight either/or lined
leftbrain dominant distractions
Extractions
from right interdependent circling
spiraling feeling
abundant historical multicultural traction
for healthy democratic energy
empowering flow
and enlightened nature/spirit MultiSpecies
Worshipping
polyculturing sensory resonant pleasures
of resilient health wealthy climate paradise
Recovering
old aging wonder,
humbling
and still actively curious
how EarthMother healthy ends
And rebegins
re-ligions wealthily ever after
with Yang empowering
Yintegral enlightening balance,
Either both/and way,
humane-divine hybrid consciousness
of
merely sublime natural
sensory aware
animating spirits,
Breaths of incoming
outgoing life
as love
regeneratively prevails.
And yet
I cannot resist some attachment,
as I limp toward my own ego-recentering
ultra-nonviolet
compassioning horizon,
Rooting for this new global age
of Green Cooperative EcoNonPaternal-Privileged
already leading our nonviolent communion
toward a resiliently restorative EarthJustice Way,
A curious winning for AnthroTribe
also winning Earth GreenPeace
to health/wealth new deal Thrive.
Picture a man and a woman naked side by side,
chains wrapped loosely around their necks
attached not to each other, but to the familiar horned beast that towers over them.
To others it appears obvious they could easily abdicate, however the couple does not view the same landscape
They stay comfortably bound to the monster they recognize
what may come to their surprise
they are their own adversary and their own allies
rather than escaping habit they CHOOSE to stay enslaved
not living but surviving, one foot in the grave.
Its not that they are unable ,they know they can be free
they are just so accustomed to not being able to breathe.
They are hoping that they can illustrate their own reality,
create their own light, dreaming of freedom
whilst still believing the chains are skin tight.
Form:
Bleeding the power of a savage redcoat
Breaking the bones of weak allies.
I had hurt her for your love
As much as you loved to hurt.
By biting the face who cherished your gaze
By bleeding the blood who pumped your toxins
By singing the songs of our cries
Ripping our stem from the ground
Plucking the tiny pedals
With your dirty hands
That set our world into ablaze.
But I still rested my fate into those rusted hooks.
I remember a love
That broke my touch with fantasy.
Never have I mended it’s cracks
So I stand behind yellow lines
Just above the tracks.
You handed me a rose
But our love wasn’t any special
Just a mutual desire
A dispensable choir
and conversations with fire.
Still, I was frightened by it
The love I almost shared even more.
Poison by caution
As I cautioned with poison
To put more trust in my lust.
Craved your used tool
Of the famous rusted thrust.
But never did I want to accept it
Even with a little trust.
I do not write with resent
Nor of a claim to our time
But only a tribute to a memory you will once forget.
Once a friend, an enemy, a lover
Now a familiar distant stranger.
I dreamt you were more gentle on my foolish soul
Then maybe I'd fix the broken gap
That still oozes blood and sap
From my sorrow and spirted soul.
I wept today, longing surfaced beneath my breath
deepened movement surreptitiously crept forward
until it could no more be ignored or feign sleep
suppressed light seeking harmony dared to tread
my existence worries me at times for I no not
knowing pretends at pretension, a precisely folded
hat makes believe the world is sane, is it now?
Fear tramples right paths, heart renders useless
everything is something not ever nothing
armonicas evoking spirits of the dead as if to say
sheer walls of wishful thinking, insert pause
at a loss for words, she leaves behind her hand
pressed for something, taken for remembrance
fragrance lead me here, deduction and reason
allies in my war of safety, surety, aloneness
foraging for memories, both lucid and ambiguous
pin lights allowing just enough to believe
dipping into the ocean of life, I stand on the shore
of all that was of me and all that will become
of me in all ways, in all days, resting in peace
forever more.
Suppose the Enemy invades your town.
No cellphones, then: no Instagram,
no Rachel Maddow, there to break it down.
The only thing to do, if in a jam,
if lacking WhatsApp or Securicam,
is send a runner out, to warn your friends.
They’ll thank you warmly, when the danger ends.
The menace of the moment? Marathon
was under siege by eastern hordes (that’s Persian).
Victorious here, they’d soon descend upon
immortal Athens. Such a vile incursion
could not be countenanced. The better version
was beating the invader where he stood.
“Our name would live for ever, if we could!”
In one respect, the West outstrips the East.
(You think me xenophobic? Hear me out!)
To us, a king, a noble or a priest
is merely one of us: though he may shout,
he’s nothing special, has no inbuilt clout.
We don’t like tyrants. If we make a plan,
we all invest in it, as best we can.
The eastern mind, you’ll find, incurs more losses
because the mass of people, uncommitted,
does what it’s told by oligarchs and bosses.
The social ranks, compliant but not knitted,
will not withstand the enemy. They’re pitted
against free men. The Persians, soon depleted,
threw down their spears, were easily defeated.
But Athens needs to know what happened here.
The mother-culture needs our expertise:
no hoarding, boarding, fractiousness or fear.
We need a man to put our friends at ease:
who should we send? Of course! Pheidippides!
Amigo, you’re our runner: it’s you who’s
entrusted with the bearing of the news.
How many miles to Athens? Twenty-six!
Pheidippides would do it at a run.
This wasn’t boring, petty politics:
the threat is dead – democracy has won!
He disappeared into the setting sun.
The allies were apprised of Marathon’s pride:
Pheidippides, job done, exhausted, … died!
The CoOp featured Women and Families
and their Matriarchal Allies,
often LGB and/or T,
and even some curiously queerer,
but not meaner
in appropriate demeanor
regardless of habitat
and camouflage
and costume,
ready for a folksy ball,
come as you neighborhood are
at Three Sisters CoOp.
The Corn Sisters
first brought their good news gospel,
Christian straight through bisexual,
standing Yangish tall.
To conjoin the Bean Brothers and Sisters,
enslaved in wombs a bit too much longer
than their corny deep green sisters,
yet rich brown and red
and forest green ready
to sprout and reforest spiral,
devouring,
yet digesting appropriately just right,
what Corn could carry and bear,
before producing their Bean creolizing
jazzy song and dance performers;
sultry street reformers
resting on a corny stalk of Yang.
Pumpkin spreading shade Earth Allies
grow across the CoOp's neighborhood,
incorporating spiritual
and natural nutritions
to feed a hungry matriarchal-patriarchal world,
rich with integrative nutritional potential,
deep with CoOp integrity
to reweave,
reforest,
Three Sister CoOps,
wherever humanity blooms,
not bleeds so much,
as and where planted,
in and out,
up and down,
back and forth
TaoTime reweaving.
A Great Transitional bean-brother
and sister
stood to take the lunch microphone
first opened up this day
to say:
If you look at a flat picture of a three-sprout braid,
it looks like oppositional Yang and Yin
are bilaterally weaving in and out
in Hypostatic Union
universally alone.
Yet that same three-dimensional braid
when felt and looked at
from at least all three-sides,
unveils a secret wu-wei Trinity
of TaoTime,
a braid for Sacred Corn
as FatherSun,
a braid for Natural Beans
as Holonic Cooperative Flowing-Spiral Spirit,
a braid for MotherEarth
Squashed Down Folks and Species
spreading lovely shade and reforesting projects
and cooperative programs,
economically and politically discouraging competing weeds
while splattering growing psychologically complex rain
where it best absorbent falls.
But, which nutritional strand is which
depends on you,
the ecopolitical view you listen to most Yang-Yin deeply,
as written in sweetgrass braids
of each Three Sisters CoOp.