Long Any(a) Poems
Long Any(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Any(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Any(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
‘Ossi’, what Western side likes them to call,
East returning complements with ‘pushy’,
No more stands there the brick-and-mortar wall,
Love’s lost still in old animosity.
The wall o’er a decade and half back fell,
Yet, an iron curtain still them divide,
Minds cannot meet over the wall of pride,
Hurt heart and prejudice can’t that gulf scale.
‘I’d rather a spouse from a foreign shore
‘Bring than one from behind iron curtain,’
Felt one from across the long secured door,
Deep and wide does divide decades of pain.
Here lingers a dislike, there disdain old,
What venom brethren nurse for each other!
An open war has turned into one cold,
Togetherness in search of fair tether!
‘Too hot’ for us these women from the West,
‘Hard to please, pushy, far too material,
‘Everything about them seems commercial,
‘From old world do we come and too modest’.
‘Too darn dense be these people from the East,
‘Lacking any a style whatsoever,
‘Forever on a bargain-hunting heist,
‘Let them savour their old odious flavour’.
Wall was felled to enable two-way flow,
Heads still finds it hard to communicate,
Bridges and trains, mutual dialogue to grow,
Yet, hard it is distanced hearts to placate.
Love and passion when at a premium come
In too short a period of years fifteen,
Old prejudices play a harder drum,
Not easy 'tis long-closed closets to clean.
World has its Kashmir, long-gulfed Koreas too,
And torn-apart people elsewhere a few,
A healer great, mighty teacher is time,
If not today, morrows may sing in rhyme.
______________________________________________________
The Berlin Wall came down some 15 years back on 9th November1989. But the iron curtain continues to divide the two people that history separated. Only two per cent of marriages every year are between the East and the West Berliners, which under normal conditions should have brought together one-third to half of the couples in a city its size. Yet, they are 12 times more likely to marry foreigners. After the wall fell, there came the euphoria only to die soon. A lingering dislike persists between the two sides. Yet, in all fairness 15 years is too short a period to mitigate the wounds inflicted by 60 years of separation. Time, let us hope, will prove a great healer that it is.
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Happenings | 01.11.04 |
I ask you, “Where might we go:
A land to, or a land fro;
Let the land like a river flow.
Leave yourself behind, and dare,
Dare to know Thoreau.”
Ahh, how the day is
The simplest of all revolutions.
The sun, bright - cannot be missed--
Once departed without ever departing; now
Obvious after lunar-evolution.
The plotting and seeking,
Groping and the hoping:
Blindly in the night
Seeing that which is apart from sight.
But now.
Now, we must depart
To meet our journey…
*Sigh*
See how the sun has risen to set.
Come so far without movement
Tell me: does it regress?
Or is it perhaps, progress.
Disregard my laughter;
For who is the fool?
The fool, or he who follows..
The room takes shape
Darkness illuminates
Like light cracking drapes,
Bare or not, it stimulates..
A stairwell brings inquisition,
Beckoning steps toward the next
And the next and the rest!
Ah yes, the rest,
As many interpretations as a note.
II
See the equations before you,
Like onions-- keep your eyes peeled.
Wryly dancing around thy head.
Stall you tears; fears be shed
Forget the illusion
And any a delusion.
Logic and feeling rotate to portray
This sage's mental ballet.
Voodoo of the mental juju,
With "x2 +y2 = 1" as the tutu.
Confidence in that knowledge
Shall blend solemn passage
For the minute hand is spinning,
The hour hand a'twirling
Let us make haste for:
There was never any
Now will there ever exist
Any time to lay to waste!
Approach the stairs,
Harken that specter-stare!
Alas, in the dark; notice be absolved.
Yonder face far from sight's resolve
Dare to describe it!
A head with shade as pigment
Dark & rich like the night
Translucent in sight.
Eyes leer like pearl
(Allow peace to unfurl)
A face serving witness:
Purely as a pittance
Dread not the shade;
Light astounds from dark's fade
Virgil kept Dante from Oblivion
With true, epic passion
Do not think that face: death
Quotidian rhythm is life's breath.
Leave that Specter
Come, follow your mentor.
See how he fades;
And you nearly bowed, scathed.
Now ascend the stairs,
To who knows where...
Go, before the clock begins
And forsake no secular reins
Buy the ticket. Take the ride.
Quite simply, It seems
Sunken jewels always gleam
Depart into the unknown
No need for any asylum
I
As things do return home like a refrain,
On way back from a country tour were we,
A leisurely long trip—my kin and me,
And met a quaint character on the train,
As I recall, in his late life, nigh vain,
His dress and demeanour indicative,
And we at sea the way he seemed to talk,
His deportment and dialogue of proud cock,
Who discoursed on any a theme on earth,
A Muslim sure from far, not a native,
Listening to him was, not his tale’s worth,
Yea, something sure was there that was not sane.
The Goddess of Learning and Destiny
Seemed to have blessed him— of ports so many,
Who said, forces were at work in the world
Far too secretly, underground, unheard:
Russians, say, have advanced closer to us,
Brit policies have been inauspicious,
Feuds among our leaders have come to head,
Confused and suspicious who see things red.
And flourished our newly formed friend in train
With phony smile: What might cause further pain—
More things happen under and ‘pon this earth
Than reported are as the news of worth.
The home-bound birds like us that had not seen
The world he had, struck were dumb with wonder,
What with his quotes on science, his comments
On Vedas, verses of Persian poets.
Our young ears, untutored to this knowledge,
Caused our admiring bone to turn attuned,
Sure, a magnet, occult power, an astral
Body some sort doubtless has him inspired,
We listened to him with keenest of ears,
Devout mind, he’d our heart all enraptured.
The train reaching a railhead, we waited
In a retiring room, tired and jaded,
As change of train weighed when heavy on eyes.
‘Train's running late', when someone made us wise,
Our wise man then set out a tale to spin,
And our sleep said goodbye with a wry grin!
____________________________________________
Narrative |01.04.2024|
Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali: Kshudhaarto Paashaana, divided in I to XIII parts, largely in blank verse that lapses into rhymes along with its twists and turns. The story is known to have happened during Tagore’s stay at Shaahibaug palace in Ahmadabad, the nearby river Sabarmati becoming river Suista in the story.
Come, O sorrows and be my waking call,
Be to my life of joys a bit of blight,
Upon a hard day's work a short respite,
Be pleasant autumn before barren fall.
Come with dark clouds of rain with silver line,
Soften my joys, set me for looming pain,
Show Buddha smile with subtle smirk so fine
That takes mid-path hailing both sun and rain.
Life’s no undiluted desert of grey grief
Devoid of any a cool breeze of joy,
If too smooth gets ride to a far off cliff,
Thrills get short like a child’s joy of new toy.
Come O sorrows, come as my surprise treat,
An unknown thrill there’s in getting way-lost,
Let even reaching right come at some cost,
After sour taste water tastes somewhat sweet.
Come that my cup of joy fills up a full,
He that hath felt no grief feeleth no joy,
Come to make my joys and sorrows equal,
Be my welcome guest, shy nor ever coy.
And O Sorrows, not just that ye visit,
Dig unto me deeper carves that would last,
So that when joys come more of them can fit,
Capacities have I for both so vast.
And O thou, I well know: in this dual world,
The dancing duals dance in such a way,
They become two balanced wings of a bird,
Twain of life like dark and light, night and day.
Come, waver not; help me sail through life’s sea,
Let waves of joy and sorrow therein clash,
Let it but one seamless continuum be,
As twain thou hast but one soul, dual flesh.
Come to complete my lifelong melody,
Make one whole my truncated joy and bliss,
And conclude my unfinished symphony,
Come to give me a life-sustaining kiss.
If people equate thee with a dark cloud,
Worry not, for I know: there’s no rainbow
Without clouds, discard that guilt-covered shroud,
Soon as a storm subsides, peace does follow.
Two hearts that come together in sorrows
Stay united for long with stronger ties,
And love cleansed with mutual tears farther goes,
Joy and sorrows are no adversaries.
Joy and grief birds be roosting on same tree,
And never known to get separated,
I know, when one wishes to visit me,
The other’s just asleep right in my bed.
________________________________________
Musings | 15.10.15 | ode
Chuka Nnabuife: Nwoke Na Mma
(Ab? p?r? iche maka mmemme ncheta ?gb?gba ah? iri ise nke Sa Chuka Nnab?ife)
Izunna Okafor dere ab? a
A s? na mma nwoke b? mpempe akw?kw?
Mana nke ah? b? maka nd? ?j? akw?kw?
Maka na onye g?t? akw?kw?, ma o kwegh? ya
Mgbe ah?, ? s? ka ? ga bute ego
Maka na ? kpazie ya aka n'?n?, ? s? na ego b? mma nwoke
?f?d? s?kwa na ogologo imi b? mma nwoke
Mana nke ah? b? maka nd? j?tara ?n? ha
Onye lechaa onwe ya n'enyo, h? na ? d? ka isi mkpi
Mgbe ah?, o cheta na ogologo imi b? mma nwoke
Maka na ya onwe ya b? ?s? ohu imi
Nd? ?ka s?kwa na mma nwoke b? n'af? ?n?
N'ihi na ha onwe d?ka ihu mm??
Ego kwàrà ha, ogologo imi erugh?kwa ha aka.
Ha wee ghàdozie aka n'af? ?n?
We kwubezie na af? ?n? b? mma nwoke
N'ime ihe nd? a niile
Nke b? eziokwu b? na ?ha obodo maara mm?? ka ukwu
Maka na e jigh? nkume elele isi kara aka
Ngàla nwa ebuli b? n'ihe chi ya jiri g?z?e
Mana ka m mme ka ? mara
O nwere otu nwoke nwere ihe nd? a niile
? b? maaz? Chuka Nnab?ufe
? b?gh? naan? na ? g?r? akw?kw?
Kama ogologo imi ya ha ka nke ele
Af? ?n? ya hakwa ka nke ag?
Mpe mpe akw? na-esi juputakwara n'akpa ya
Maka na a s? onye ji ya ruru ab??, ya gwuru
Lekene nwoke na mma
? b? ogologo o toro ka ?n? nkw?
Ka ? b?z? ?t?t? akara chi jiri g?zie ya
Nd? be any?, a na-eked? oke ji n'az? ?ba?
? ch?? ya n'?gba mb?, ? h? ya
? ch?? ya n'ise ihe, ? h? mkp?s? aka ya
? nwaa ya n'egwu, ? h? na ? b? keleke
? ch?zie ya n'ihe odide, ? h? na ya na Achebe b? ofu nne
?r? mgbasa ozi b?z?kwaara ya mmiri ?ñ?ñ?
Af? ?ma ya na-akp? n'ala ka nne eke
? b? nwoke maara ezi okwu
?g?g? isi b?kwaara uhie ?n?
Oge ?b?la, ihu na-at? ya am? ka ?k?r? nnewi
Maka na ? gh?tara n'elu ?wa d?ka ah?a otu
N'ihi ya keduz? ihe mmad? na-echegburu onwe ya.
Nd? be any?, keduz? ebe any? ga-ebido wee g?s?ba
? b? nd? o mere eme ka ? b? nd? ? ka na-eme eme
? b? na nd? o buru p?ta ?wa
Ka ? b? na nd? ? r?taara onwe ya
N'eziokwu, a d?gh? ama ?garanya n'af? nto
Maka na oke ji n'abala ad?gh? az? ihu ?ba
Maaz? Chuka b? oke nwoke
Ka m ka gbado ya ebe a maka mgbe ?z?
Maka na oke mm?? n?kar?a n'?gb?
?m??kp? ekenye ya ?t?
©Izunna Okafor, 2018
__________________
O what ye have been doing here?
I’ve been watching my life pass by.
Just that and nothing else?
Why, is not it enough?
_________________
O man, ye just cannot afford to be
A mute pair of banks on meditation
Forever watching the river flow by,
Nor yet a stone getting grounded as sand,
Ye better watch this life of yours pass by
And try, be part of its perennial flow.
You’ve twenty-four hours a day and enough--
Nearly one and a half thousand moments,
Each with potential possibilities,
This life’s no distant goal, it’s here and now.
O never think that thy life’s joy lies far,
Far off ‘pon finishing a given deed,
But ponder, true joy and bliss lies right here
Wait not for that moment thy deed is done,
It is in the adventure of journey,
Not just in reaching the destination.
And yet, indulging in fancy dreams of
Destinations and thy goals duly scored,
Ye tend to forget very life to live,
Forget to give the due deserved by life.
Alas, we mankind has this bad habit
To turn all of the life unto habit,
To turn love unto mere relationship,
And that in turn unto material thing,
Thoughts go in grooves of habit to get lame,
We fancy giving our feelings a name,
And try to fit moments to timetable,
To put on life on to a much-paved way
Rather than make a newly carved walkway
Our own, turn vibrant life into habit.
But why oh why should a man be like this?
Perhaps, he tries to insure all the life
And make it secured sans any a strife,
And sleep sound, assured like Kumbhakarna
Unmindful, he makes life a commodity.
What he likes he postpones for all his life,
And goes on doing what he never likes…
Till one day comes his life’s late, late evening,
Not having ever stood oh face to face
With what’s his life. Full of regrets he dies.
__________________
O Time, O Death, don’t ye scare,
In invincible thee,
Undefeated dwells me,
O ye better beware.
_____________________
Reflections |25.12.2024|Blank verse, life, time,
No man's too small to hoist a helping hand,
Nor any a deed too small if well-meant,
Nor a task too tough for a noble end,
Mind can if means can't make a mighty dent.
A journey of a daunting task off shore
Begins with but a single step forward,
‘Drop by drop filleth lakes’ is no vain lore,
An ounce of action… oft have we this heard.
Many a learned man knows this truth well,
But rather than help he spins hyper hypes.
Intention matters more, how a squirrel
Strove to earn mythical laurels and stripes,
So goes a tiny squirrel's tallest lore,
Silent did she work building a barrage—
An episode from an epic of yore,
So sang sage Valmiki of ancient age.
A folktale, an aside from Ramayana:
Rama's spouse abducted was to an isle—
Confined to a far off spot by Ravana,
That came camouflaged in a monk's fair guile.
When lured and mislead by a golden deer,
That too was the demon's bewitching guile,
In stealth when cried out, ‘O Lakshman, my dear',
And destiny unfolded in a while.
In Rama's voice the wily demon cried,
And Sita beseeched Lakshman, forcing him
To render help; what followed, a bad dream,
For, Ravan waited hiding in monk's hide.
The search began thence in woods and deep vales,
Hilly terrains, meadows and leas and dales,
And they came searching to where ends the land,
An ocean spread forth, looking like no friend.
Hanuman, Rama's key aid, a legend,
To whom no task too big was, such was he,
Then volunteered to leap across the land
To luring Lanka, a land across sea.
And returned soon with hopeful but sad tale:
Captive Sita’s safe in Ravan's red hands,
Who, in no mood peace parleys to avail,
Oh had to be dealt with on Lankan sands.
________________________________________
Originally Ramayana was written in Sanskrit by Valmiki, a sage who was a fierce bandit in his early life.
Epic | 06.04.13 |
Continued in Part II
Tis Tornado season
As it's dark and cloudy
Lighting strikes down
Weather alerts sounds
Tornado Watches
Be watchful
For tis the season
Tornados come
Be always Prepared
To take Shelter
Then Alerts Sounded
Tornado in sight
Touched and grounded
Tornado's whips through towns
People.. go to where Shelter is found
Some Tornados are ever so fast
Doesn't give any a chance
Be always prepared.. take shelter
But then some Tornado's are slow
Allowing a person get shelter..
When tis time to go
Be always prepared.. take shelter
But in both cases
Nothing tho is left
where ever Tornado goes
but just the ground tis left to show
Reminds me..
Of Now.. the season
Of the End times
Be Watchful
Be Always Prepared
Come to Jesus-- Take Shelter
For the Day of Lord
Trumpets will sound
Jesus shall come..
Be always prepared
Fast as Lighting strikes
Across the sky's
From the East to West
As Jesus comes
Whomsoever
Belongs to Him
Shall meet with Him
In the Clouds
Live Eternally
Forever with Him
(Jesus is our Shelter)
Be Prepared
To be with our Lord
When day He comes
Be always watchful
Knowing..
(With Jesus You have Eternal Shelter)
Now tis Endtimes
Time is at Hand
Tis the Season
Come to Jesus Christ
Receive Eternal Life
Knowing...
(For Jesus is Our Shelter)
Where is your Shelter?
In these End-times
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There are many of us... whom are Tornado Chasers
Just like there is many of us... whom are Witnesses for Christ
Whole purpose is to Save Souls
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Please Pray... for all those whom is going through the disasterous times of Tornadoes..
Recently.. Tornadoes devastation.. taken place in many states..
Pray for all of them and their Familys..
Form:
I recall, to our life when she came—
In early nineties one unknown day,
Few did know for long years: who she was—
Her mission, and what she wished to do,
And someone called it an Info Age:
Internet, e-mails and e-media—
Some of them more social than are ants,
In tone and temper unfairly free—
And info-knowledge spread sans limit,
But in just two decades we feel drowned.
Overload of info, opinions:
Social sites tweeting, tubes, sundry sites,
Searching sites, kindling books, what not apps,
Bits and bytes gagging us over board!
An ocean of Info, every shade,
Informing less and confusing more,
Now telling, and contradicting then;
But time was we had next to nothing.
Bits, bytes, nor statistics info is,
Nor info knowledge is— never was.
News nigh fake, more of views than are news,
Far from truth, confuse more than give clues,
Verified by none but someone's whim,
Twenty four by seven, news and news!
Ignorance a maiden of pure bliss,
No one has questioned camouflaged views,
Neut media morphing unto sour dream,
Even views are now of varied hues—
Fruits of a fertile mind, partial pen,
Better was bliss of ignorant Zen!
Ere, soul of Info to inform was.
And inform it sure did without doubt,
Today it seems to drown us in doubt,
I doubt if the curious little bird,
Even if ravenous hungry is,
I f any a worm would ever catch!
Time was when info an asset was,
And people hungered for a bare byte.
From heaps of husk and shells, piles of chaff,
It is hard today to garner grain.
Maiden sure she’s no doubt, no more shy,
Like peels of onions she hides nigh!
______________________________________________________
Happenings | 16.03.2017 |
Poet’s note: This piece is not a typical ode. It is nine syllabic three feet anapaest, and largely a blank verse.
Water flows from the silent dam
With a crying noise of joy to slam
The awaiting shouts of closed mouth
Skydiving eyes in prayers closed northsouth
The running around of hurray hurrying
Hot food feeds the cup holder
Up and down the street is the cardholder
To settle for true love and light
Having endure fear and pure fright
The pleasing moon that caused the day worrying
Nothing is so little to count on in life
Not simple, but not all strife
There is a point she breathes to die
That heart's beats really go awry
Making a twist seems unexpected
Weak cry and loyal smile give you voice
In motion never stable
Static not and ever brittle
But never got any a planned choice
Growing cute bites from urges recollected
As you pass from young to old
Embrace the love diced won in fold
Friends like family you shall adore
Before any of you is no more
Yes, memory alone will do the needful
Unity and conflict may beguile
Let frown and peace smile
To the fate hailing faith for test
Which could be for the best
Designing thy purpose-- beautiful
The hastening problem you can't stop
Must not by chance get to drop
To smuggle, steal or shatter
Persisting memory does matter
The one rolling eyes won't see
Each cycle, everyday does grow short
The gold ever more frail
Till the last one, do comport
The trying patience on the final rail
For easy sailing on the white troubling sea
Happy birthday to the one loving romance
That each and everyone got
In no real gothic second chance
The one anyone could quote
How time wanders not coming by
As you are naming what mattered
The glory of God will not be shattered
Grow forward forever to finding living
So interesting in all thy thanksgiving
Buying time to imparting before death says bye