Long Apex Poems
Long Apex Poems. Below are the most popular long Apex by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Apex poems by poem length and keyword.
Through the piercing silence of the night
Echoes the soul grasping sound
Of the ethereal howling of a pack of wolves
Their song is carried across the air
Over the tree tops to a place of forever
The full moon glows an aura of wonderment
Wolves wail to this celestial body in honor of it
Metaphorically, they are attempting to connect
With ideas that lie dormant in the subconscious
Just below the surface
Like undisturbed stones that nestle comfortably
In the sand upon the apex of a smooth flowing river
Always there but obstructed from view
What secrets reside within us
Waiting to be discovered?
For it is in sleep the unconscious whispers to us,
Shall we lie quietly and listen?
If you don’t cross the bridge
You will never know what’s on the other side
So, if we were not meant to eat
There would be no hunger
Therefore the subconscious must serve a purpose
Who says that logic is the only reality?
I have awakened, to feast my eyes
Upon a gigantic sphinx
Silently it observes me and smirks
A sly, cunning smile masking
Its many mysteries and knowledge
What secrets will be revealed
To me on this night if I listen?
A vast bonfire blazes, and as it cackles
The flames reach above to the star filled sky
Surrounded by spectators, I see a fox, and a coyote
As a glimmering golden hawk accompanied by
A mystical red phoenix encircle the sight, uttering
Words of wisdom, which spread over the ocean of
Canyons creating an echo in which the mountains
Respond in unison, surely there is a message here
Each brilliant star suddenly transposes itself into lines
Of letters, I gaze in awe at the wondrous words
Glittering like silver beads stretching the expanse of
The universe, all unfamiliar, yet tantalizing, languages
From ages ago, no longer spoken, however readily co-existing
Along side modern speech and thought, what may I learn
If I were to study these ancient gems of communication?
Therefore,
I am ready to fly with the essence of the night
Begin a quest into another realm
Of human awareness
Seeking out words and ideas
To bring back
For it is here that thoughts originate
A journey into the other side of myself
Where logic has no relevance
And imagination has no limitations
As the pirate who prepares to unearth
A buried treasure
Okay kill the lights
Close your eyes
Prepare for take-off
We constantly deal with poetry which puts us in a soporific state,
we sit here apathetic to the cause of studying this beautiful art-
but Poetry’s breath Ad Nauseum about love and laments is bad for a date,
oblivious to the images, while attempting to turn the key we begin to depart.
Yet the door haunts us, novels, plays, yet poetry is the apex,
of this ethereal mystery within the maelstrom that is our mind,
alas this frustration is focused upon the conundrum of poetry being complex,
is it just a condensed novel, this Herculean Task of understanding the undefined.
There are many who deem poetry obsolete but tis rather far from its nadir,
now begins the unequivocally splendid power of the imagination-
hidden by poetry from the vituperative invader,
who’ve made an egregious mistake in deeming poetry a partial differential equation.
Imagination, oh what a beauty long forgotten in the age of reason-
we’ve been given Hobson’s choice, force fed Occam’s razor, given epitome-
yet good ol’ imagination persist like an excretion,
from the eyes of the true daughter of time, Science’s proficiency.
People assume poetry is the modern day Gordian’s Knot-
well- let us assume this is Utopia, were Imagination runs wild-
as she watches her forest, a black cat surreptitiously passes a man in thought,
startled because it is Friday the thirteenth his Triskaidekaphobia- this is all rather mild-
Just the tip of the iceberg was touched upon, just the tip-
Poetry and humanity is an oleaginous affair we mix but do not blend,
Or should we, poems are nothing more than what we put in, as if to dip-
just our toes, before we plunge head first into poems so as to apprehend.
Poetry is the Sun, as you are the flowers shined upon,
given warmth of knowledge and power if you are to just reach.
Not to let Poetry in as if to catch on-
give it back in your own form of speech.
Through your own imagination feed poetry,
It hungers for your reality, though not reality-
procrastinate not- hopefully,
for your conceptions are your sanity.
Or rather is fancy your sanity- decide,
it will affect your observation of poetry forevermore.
It will excite-
whether you believe it to or not- you will love or abhor.
Poetry is not arduous -
just do not assume there is a secret door.
In fact poetry is quite virtuous-
Seek only what you can give poetry, I do implore.
Our lives are but a breath
so minuscule in the vastness
of time and the cosmos
that insignificance that dresses our life
is barely realized by those
seeking to define what is being self
and the paths of humanities dichotomy
desertion of all worth and depredations unconcealed
to superfluous self exaltation
its a wonder the species
has survived even to this time
a continual examination
of embedded frailties that are self defeating
but in whose apex
will surrender one’s own life
in order to preserve another’s
and not meaning the kind a government demands
also the ability to sleepwalk through life
with so few moments of clarity
that Jesus could pronounce
“Let the dead bury the dead ”
One atom alone contains enough energy
to obliterate a multitude
of cities upon its release
yet our bodies contain billions
of those little energy factories
but the amount of all that energy
in the cosmos is beyond all comprehension
I should be moving at the speed of Light
but I prefer a snails pace
Or how easily our ability to think
submits itself to ideological shackles
imposed by the self appointed masters
of the bastions of a caste system
that plagues every strata and path
and highway threading the lives of “humans”
A species so full of darkness
where the divine spark is nearly dormant
you are what I Am
Go and learn what that means
Look! You have made my days just a few;And my life’s duration is as nothing in front of you.Surely every earthling man, though standing firm, is nothing but an exhalation.
Surely in a semblance man walks about.Surely they are boisterous in vain.One piles up things and does not know who will be gathering them.
Psalms 39
COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
It was a party of fleas who dropped some tea into the sea
Created a baby that left its mommy
Now there is an elephant and donkey in the room
So, lets asked who’s the bigger ***?
A spark, a flare, lighting a camel, an affair
Puff of smoke gone, what went wrong?
Bully the pulpit, who’s the culprit
Line drawn and divided by two
A state of iron bars but let’s call it a zoo
Divided into a system of them vs you
Don’t lose your autonomy
Though everyone is still just a monkey
Collectively a swarm of angry bee’s
The brilliants of hatred and judgment
The embellishment establishment pageant
Yesteryear's of days past are today's fears
Financiers, volunteers as November nears
Comparisons, divisions of wealth’s occupations
Frictions, contradictions, comedians
Who will be the next king of the jungle?
Both proclaiming to be the blissful angel
Tis the mating seasons bestial battle
Birdies tweets all about it on the their social
Scandal! Scoundrel! Oh, look there’s a squirrel
The eternal feral quarrel circle
The apex creatures are very territorial
For the king or queen, gerrymandering
The two-party system is the grand pyramid scheme
Bunch of ***holes looking up and bunch of **** looking down
Kiss up, gallop, gossip, stirrup, who will win the crown?
In this cage, enrage, what’s on the front page?
Who’s saying what about minimum wage?
Outrage about an issue? The cockatoos will throw a horseshoe
Here, eat this grass, here, pray at mass, or don’t
They will provide an antidote
Cheer, this one is such a deer, so sincere, so clear
Ok, the political evolution will find a way to prey on the economic roadway
Confusing rat race values, turn to the news and find out who will lose
Here, oats for the goats. No, the grass is greener over there
But be aware because there is a monster troll lair
Despair not of this nightmare, the election will swear to another road
The only condition for this prince is you must kiss this toad
Bam, the payload full of taxes and other critter’s pensions
Hurry up and cooked this eagle thanksgiving is awaiting
Tis the season for the hating, frustrating, debating,
Won, the elephants and donkeys parties are one hell of celebration
After-all in this zoo, the keepers and guests are laughing at you
Updated 5/14/2019
Form:
Maleeha Soomro,mother of Barrister Fahad Malik,who was gunned down in the capital some six years ago,appealed to the Supreme Court of Pakistan to take suo motu on the murder of her son as additional and session judge is allegedly trying to give the killers relief in the case.She said that the apex court had also deleted section 7 of the Anti-Terrorism Act,1997 from the FIR.
Addressing a press conference here on Saturday,Maleeha Soomro said that her son Barrister Fahad Malik was murdered in the capital by a mafia on Margalla Road some six years ago.The apex court had deleted section 7 of ATA,1997 from the FIR and had transferred the high profile case to a lower court where ASJ Zafar Iqbal is all set to conduct a hearing in the case.“I don’t trust ASJ Zafar Iqbal as he is taking the side of killers and can grant them bails,”she said adding that he shouldn’t hear our case which should be transferred to another judge’s court.“Lower Court Judge Zafar Iqbal has met my son’s killers. Judge Zafar Iqbal is not trusted.He should be stopped from hearing our case and the case should be transferred to another judge’s court because the lawyers of our killers are being heard in the court of Judge Zafar Iqbal till evening,” the mother alleged.
A writ petition was also filed in the Supreme Court of Pakistan and the CJP should resume hearing while the case should be monitored.Justice should be provided to the children and family of the victim,said Maleeha Soomro adding that her son Barrister Fahad Malik was brutally killed by Raja Arshad,the kingpin of the land mafia,by firing 43 bullets.
She added today(Saturday)is Fahad Malik’s birthday and she has been humiliated for six years.The judges of the Islamabad High Court remarked that this is not terrorism.She said,“I was terrified when the killer Raja Arshad escaped from the scene after the murder and was later arrested from Torkham Border.”Criminals are being facilitated by prosecuting cases in the dark of night,she said adding,“I do not want my case to be decided by an unscrupulous judge because it has happened before that the judge tried to grant him bail.If the accused is granted bail then the accused will run away.”
She appealed to the Supreme Court to monitor the case and provide justice to the children and family of Barrister Fahad Malik.
No Birthday Acknowledgement...
From thee... eldest daughter,
who need not brood,
nor does padre whoosh
to stir loess hood family feud
(hence an attempt merely
to convey melancholic mood).
Profound contrast extant between
your high achieving
life a wonderful hit parade
on the go compared tummy mellow
existence, yes rather staid,
now devoid of any parental
responsibility since years back, ye bade
farewell to yours truly
(perhaps forever), atop a jade
did apex inverse to my nadir paid
with ignoble deeds soul limb lee,
dissimilar to thee,
a young vibrant woman, unafraid
to take life by the (figurative) horns,
owning free choice (linkedin, nsync,
prevalent...) with autonomy swayed
independent lass not succor tubby paid
tummy, nor does this "sir" ask (delayed
by one day) for thee to "FAKE" express
sing nonexistent affection,
this decision...opting to evade
papa, who must accept such choice,
asper his first born, fortunately UNLIKE me
she earned top notch grade
nonetheless, this dada before he gets laid
to rest (actually most likely cremated),
whose ashes tubby scattered across favorite sites,
yourself and Shana Punim played,
which wistful nostalgia plucks heartstrings
rubbing raw thy psyche, who cannot trade
past concupiscent transgressions (emotionally
turbulent waters I did wade),
and no intent to telephone and invade,
sans audiologically your ear space,
this paternal, essential, and critical need
my psyche weighed, lamented, and encumbered
grief, nonetheless proud,
thee "star student" made
herself whip smart
by dogged academic pursuit
in tandem with ardent biological
bone a fide exemplary filleted
(within chromosomal dom) mignon,
similar, when Semitic forebears
risked frolicking under shade
of night - countless elapsed generations aid
ding random genetic dice throw begetting
Eden Liat, whose irrepressible
atavistic feral guaranteeing immortality obeyed
viz, call of the wild indomitable
animalistic hankering impossible to evade,
these genealogical ancestors actions unknowingly,
unstintingly, and unwittingly
helped forge, craft, and affect every blade
of grass, and yoked, (a chicken and egg thing)
hereditary survival of fittest
present day unchoreographed masquerade.
I lean down over
the squirming corpse to be
and remove
a chunk
of fatty flesh
and throw it
in the fire,
within seconds
it’s popping and sizzling,
filling the house
with such a sweet smell
like a burning hunk of steak,
I hear someone
retching behind me
which only adds
to the sweet aroma.
I walk over
to the one
who sought to get away,
grabbing her restraint
I drag her before the fire,
the dancing flames
shows the shear terror
on her face
with their swaying brilliance.
Stretching out
one of my fingers
I slice a line
outlining her scalp
then tear it off,
the sound
sends blissful shivers
through my body
bringing me to the brink
of losing control.
I tie the mat of hair
to my belt,
my native ancestors
would be proud.
I’m done with this one
so I step down on her throat
crushing the larynx,
her gurgling,
death rattle
washes over me,
the ecstasy of it
sends a spasm
through my body.
Slowly I turn my maleficent stare
on the two
thrashing on the couch,
crazed by the horror
of it all,
tears streaming
down their faces.
With the same finger
I cut the edges
of their eyelids
changing the tears
to streams of blood,
their wailing
is like a siren’s call
almost bursting
my eardrums,
but it sounds off key
so to fix that
I grab one by the face
squeezing until
her mouth opens,
reaching in
I snag her tongue
and stretch it out
as far as it can go
then slam her
in the bottom of the jaw
making her
bite it off,
her blood sprays
into my face.
Stepping back,
almost being pushed
by the blast
of their terror filled screams,
I raise my hands
like conducting
an orchestra
as the power
of their soul releasing howls
bathe over me.
I flex my fingers
at the apex of a crescendo
and gouge
a chunk of flesh
out of the side
of the neck
on the one with no tongue
with my right claw,
sending blood
everywhere,
speckling the room
(crypt)
There is an eagle flying
above a pure blue lake,
white head with a brown body,
and long feathers, proud and straight.
On its feet are long talons,
finest yellow you can find,
they’ll strike like a rattlesnake
if you give him a hard time.
Many critters look at him,
from the ground and from the trees,
they marvel at the eagle
and how it always flies free.
The eagle has its purpose,
and it has its normal prey,
most animals are all right
if they stay out of its way.
But rats and snakes despise it,
as they scurry in the dirt,
fear the eagle may come down
as they go about their work.
They burrow deep underground
to escapes its slashing feet,
and curse that there’s an eagle
who’s forever flying free.
Some predators don’t like him,
as they’re out hunting the weak,
since the eagle will hunt them,
diving down with a large screech.
They can’t prey on everyone
when the eagles fly up there,
have to fear for their own lives,
stick to shadows, move with care.
As long as there’s an eagle
there are places they can’t be,
they hate that something that strong
is allowed to just fly free.
Some small birds hate the eagle,
and annoy him when he flies,
you see them in small numbers,
making short, half-hearted dives.
Though they’re much like the eagle,
they’re still fearful of his strength,
the eagle just rolls his eyes,
has no need to target them.
Wonders why they don’t get it,
they are high up but don’t see
that you always need eagles
high above and flying free.
Sometimes even the eaglets
will look at these other birds,
and want to be just like them,
with the eagle finds absurd.
Why would one embrace weakness
in a world that preys on it?
The small birds all get eaten,
snakes and rats will do their bit.
They’re young and lack perspective,
eagle-eyed but they can’t see
that they were born true eaglets,
that they’re destined to fly free.
Without the eagle up there
things will quickly go berserk,
if your take out an apex
ecosystems do not work.
Too many rats and snakes crawl,
fox and coyote run amok,
killing all that they can get,
you will not find hare or duck.
Until that lake and its shores
become barren and empty,
you need that eagle up there,
and you need him to fly free.
DREAM VISITOR
DREAM VISITOR
Welcome intruder of my private world
visiting me at the twilight of my sleep
finishing with me into the deep slumber.
Satisfying me into completeness
dream visitor, you have come again
to ravish me and to make me shy.
I see your shadow, I feel your presence
about me, you live inside me, lay atop of
my nudity, arousing sensuous stimuli,
causing spontaneous imploding- and tremors.!
My senses go haywire, starting a-fire, I am now lit.
You then let me shoulder in all that you have
induced. I lie there, desire-ring nothing-
squirming in tranquility.
Upon awakening I am shy, As I appear
to you in reality, somehow you have to know.
My brain has scattered as I fold-up like a
Chinese-fan before your very eyes
I run away when I see you in the day.
Afraid that my eyes may reveal, or betray me;
You must know, you were there in spirit and it seems.
In daylight you mock me.
When your spirit visits my dreams, it is impossible
that we are not both inclined, to have arrive at this apex
same time; Are you my coitus ghost?
fulfilling me to the utmost.?
In reality, when I see you, I lose all my of my faculties.
I avoid you in the daytime too; Upon laying eyes on you.
I forget what I came to say or do. If I look at you;
Immediately sensations rush through.
The fact of the matter is, like a school-girl I am flattered
At the twilight of my sleep you enter. As you ignite and
quell fires in me, ecstatically overwhelmed- You finish me.
leaving me conquered by your rapture' visitor.
O' intruder of my slumber- O' Dream visitor of mine.
I gain control by staying busy all the day;
wanting to exhaust myself - Thus the only way to
prevent your visit, I must, and keep you beyond
the barriers of my deep slumber.
Tonight, I deeply sleep, becoming totally
in-cognizant; You will need consent.
I must not lose control of my dreams.
I cannot lose control of my dreams to
this ravenous intruder who satisfies me beyond reality.!
Tonight, your spirit will not demand my flesh-
I wild hide behind the sound wall of exhaustion.
Even though I have never known such contentment,
O’ prowess of Morpheus. O' dream intruder-
the morning after is too confounding!
I lie back as the journey of your lips begins
First, my forehead is blessed
With little kisses
To be shared with each closed eyelid
Fluttering above my lips for a moment
Your lips just brush against mine
I draw in a ragged breath
And am devoured by your mouth
Passionate conquerors
Your lips subdue mine
Claiming
Taming
Teasing
Pleasing
Exciting
And I simply give in
And just as my lips prepare to
Counter the advance
With mounting fervor
The travelers move on
Anxious to conquer new ground…
The length of my neck
Is traversed
Your lips leaving a wet trail
As they pause here and there
Letting your thirsty tongue taste
And I sigh…
As the journey continues
I keep my eyes closed tight
For I know the coming terrain
I know the path your lips will take
For it is a favorite route
First down the valley between the
Two soft mounds of my breasts
Savoring being caught in this warm passageway
That reverberates with the thundering underground tremors
Of my heart
Kisses are left all along the way
And then the ascent to the left……
Reaching the top….
Sending first a messenger to scout the apex
The tongue dutifully explores
The gathering little ridges…
Which form an ever heightening peak
And then it invites the lips to take in
The summit
Oh….the ecstasy of twin peaks being claimed
One after the other…..again and again
Multiple side trips
A favorite stopping place on the journey
Filled with thrilling sights and sounds
The journey continues…
A quick dip in the navel…
The tongue takes
Before the lips get sidetracked
Not spending time to kiss
But to hover over the curving lines
Of the waist
Moving up and down
Along the sides
The tongue at times
Marking the ground
As though sacred
On the final descent
Down….down….
To the well laid out oasis
Where there is wetness to quench…
A fountain awaits
For the travelers to unenclose the dam
At the source
Coaxing the floodgates
To release
The stream
To satisfy the thirst
With a taste of paradise…
The verdant oasis
A welcoming treat
Is thoroughly plundered
The travelers
Giddy with the find
Relishing the fruit
And then
Fully satisfied
They bid farewell
With one last kiss
Knowing
That the journey of my lips
On the terrain of your body
That journey
Is about to begin…
Eileen Manassian Ghali