Long Arranges Poems
Long Arranges Poems. Below are the most popular long Arranges by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Arranges poems by poem length and keyword.
Trembling in the silence of a fresh snowfall, awaiting the struggle of laughter and tears, the beautiful that comes from stars shadowed by flakes so gentle they seem to speak silence into the spirit – like the voice of a vision, preaching peace ~ quote by poet
Secreted beneath the gentle fragments, shivering,
Blown in piles, demanding as January’s piercing light,
Silence caressing the stones, the oaks, the pines,
In glistening reflections, hearts possessed,
By the indigo skies who are burning with grace,
Speckled with sensations, amazement –
Sweltering in the 12 degree rays, where moments
Tend to breath in the crispness and release brilliance,
In waves, wisdom from the hunger
Ravenous appetites, awaiting the colors of light,
Friendly aromas of souls, newly blooming,
Emitting sounds that go on, unnoticed, echoes,
Vibrations trembling in soothing sighs…
Melodious blessings, ranging from hearts to insights,
Lifting the nights on wings of angels,
Promising the heavens to release the broken hearts,
Send comfort to the earth in the form of snow,
Who breathes a quiet truth, silence…
Beaming from the tender scales, shavings of ice,
Glittery and crisp, crumbling into moments,
When the laughing sun kisses the blanketed ridges,
Stirring the scene so that only the blurry vision,
Squinted from eyes who remember –
On the snow covered land there is plenty to glimpse,
But only the blinded eyes can truly remember,
How the sparkling snow seemed to shudder and shake,
In silence… deciding just how significant
How consuming is the silence of a shadow,
Reflected on the land whose bathed in fresh white,
The frosty sheen of hope breathing its lasting glance,
Over the peaceful promise of this kind and graceful spectacle,
Commotion in brilliance, awakening the spirit,
With a wonderful white home where the fires crack,
Popping so that even the wood can feel the flames traveling,
Deep into the bones, risking tragedy…
To be lauded by the sensations of Winter’s amazing,
Winter chasing the dreams, the belief, the faded hope…
For those silhouettes who follow the moon,
Ride the stars and twinkle like the deathlike grief,
Who arranges for even the darkness to be plucked from the earth,
By the fresh fallen flurries who break away the brittle,
Soothing souls so that they’re sanctified by the sentimental.
In last night's movie, a young writer
and an older, married with children French woman
fall in love. They did not meet during a village massacre
and money is no object, Manhattan
the place I was priced out of. But after everything has happened
she cannot leave her children, not even for love, because of love,
the love that brooks no serendipity.
Here, in my family, love is taken for granted
except when it's withdrawn and then even the trees lose all meaning,
familiarity. Now it is almost dawn:
this and that must get done in committee or alone.
Don't reach, go slow as the day will allow.
But that's not what I came to say.
Perfect rest v. having a destiny.
A complete breakdown in self-discipline.
It begins by saying nothing I do matters under the eye of eternity.
Hamlet x 5 centuries.
Add to that all the science--chemistry, physics--calculus and music
I don't know. I have sat next to, at weddings,
brain surgeons and robot engineers. I hit the street
choosing a church on Fifth Ave. or Trinity Cemetery, walking the
heartless city.
In the subsequent late night movie, a wealthy
altruistic doctor arranges for the murder
of his neurotic concubine. His guilt provides us
with an opportunity to consider
the concepts of faith and forgiveness, that all will be well in the end
after a period of meaningless suffering.
In this way the seasons have been circulating for eons via convexity.
I don't know what I'm doing but I'm doing it anyway.
You trust in genetics, God, prosthetics or prayer, whatever
gets you to the morning. That's when the sun,
a billion trillion nuclear detonations per second
warms your bones.
You may remember an old lover who's gone before
or continues to exist on another plane, in another ecstasy.
Having installed a new toilet seat
and made a few philanthropic donations
I can kick back tonight and watch movies, right?
Not. I'm ridding myself of another addiction
like illegal drugs via caloric restrictions
getting enough sleep for two people or more
and reading none of the dry words in books from the library.
When there's nothing to do, when I'm bored or dreary
I'll sit still and watch from the window, I'll wait
for the weather to change, which it will.
Darkness settles around the heart
Of one whose light trembles on the air
As the sadness pours over the soul
Who knows a loved one has gone away
The struggle, the grief, is like a soft rain
Never letting up, just wet enough
To dampen the thoughts, the mind
All the wondering of a weeping, mourning
That never stops – it haunts and mocks
Every tear that falls, every lonely ache
Besieged by the faded call of such pain
Dread empties its sorrow into the heart
Who knows that gushing shade of black
Never remembers it is meant to find rest
Amid the hope that comes from the light
Feelings of inspiration found on the inside
Of a soul who sees that love is still alive
Dancing to the tune of memories assured
By their beauty and breath of tenderness
Drifting on the wing kissed air of silent winds
Shimmering in the sky, listening to the One
Who remembers us – our hurt – our worry
The reflections of darkness coloring us in hues
Of madness – crazy colors of the tempest
Who hisses fear through the ebony night
Petrifying dread that grows a freezing alarm
Over our hearts and souls, through our love
Which comes alive with the assurance that He
Will bind up our wounds, heal our grief
And save us from the devil who is greedy
For our pain, our anguish, our misery
The darkness that shudders with the horror
Of knowing that hatred will fight us
Try to destroy all the love, hope and faith
That live inside us to guide us and provide us
With a grace which sustains, a grace that awaits
When we simply say “I’m sorry” and let God
Work out the details of our lives, our love
The way we give and live, the way we will
Become the children that He can fill with His Spirit
He is the answer to every dark and dismal moment
He never stills the joy and He never subdues the love
He arranges for us to know Him the way we know hope
He lets us know we’re His by the way we sense Him with us
He is the Savior of the world and He is our personal Savior!
He is the miracle of all miracles, the wonder of wonders…
The light in my heart – the sparkle in my eyes
The dream that never fades – the kindness that delights
He is my entire life!
Legend Of The Black Dove (Part 10B)
"The Unknown World"......Continues
Norrington and Jenkins look around to see if they are near some volcanic
island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Captain Owens arranges a landing
party to try to get some supplies, food and water and anything else they
can find. They also take their guns for protection. Flying above the ship
are two large birds, but on a closer inspection they observe flying reptiles,
Pterodactyls: it seems they have been transported to the prehistoric times.
They decide to carry on moving towards the island. Owens, who is leading
the men, realises they have to go in, get through and out as quick as possible
through the rainforest with its strange vegetation and small animals. Moments
later they notice a Stegosaurus eating foliage. Avoiding confrontation they
walk around the trees only to encounter an Alosaurus- a flesh eater which
notices them. Growling it starts to chase after the crew. They shoot their
pistols at it. While running Jenkins falls to the ground, Norrington turns
and decoys the beast away from his friend, the other crew members help
Jenkins escape the beast's clutches. Without being noticed Norrington is
transformed into the Black Dove and is trying to lure the beast in his direction.
The other men are now on board the ship, while the Dove is playing a
dangerous game of cat and mouse with the Alosaurus. The Dove uses his
super strength and speed to jump onto the monster's back and render it
unconscious. The dinosaur slumps to the ground. Becoming John Norrington
again he rejoins his friends. Captain Owens is successful in getting fresh water
and some plants for their voyage home. The storm is approaching the Columbia
giving them another chance to return home to England. Everyone is on board,
knowing not where they will be going to next.
Will the Columbia's crew finally arrive in England?
Or will they end up in another time zone again?
The startling answer is in Part 11...."Destination Unknown"
Posted the beginning of next month (December)
November 1968: The Hunted
Got divorced couple years ago, second time
At first, I mirror myself as a low-life loser
Jack without Jill, McGee without Molly
Ossie without Harriot, Adam absent Eve
No fourth finger, gold band of respectability
Instead wagging digits of family and friends
Then discover a stimulating, singles society
Connect at cocktail lounges and corner bars
dating services, social clubs, work cafeterias
commuting club cars, once at a church social
Mindlessly, I transform into a blissful bachelor
‘til a Swedish mermaid magically materializes
Attend a Singles, Saturday eve swim fest. Stand
in shoulder deep water, arms rest on side of pool
Envision my later-this-evening date with Debbie
a waitress, Embers Dinner Club; off at midnight
Suddenly, a splash surges up from the surface
Engaging eyes and a sparkling smile follow
A melodic voice sings out of a beautiful face,
body, “Hi, my name’s JoAnne, what’s yours?”
I stutter, stumble, finally mumble, “Uh, ah, Joe.”
Captivating conversation tightens a growing knot
A troubling thought thunders through my mind
“It is already too late. This one will do you in”
In three months, JoAnne re-arranges my world
I vacate my bachelor pad, move into her house
Say good-bye to Myrtle, Julie, Cindy, Debbie
Say hello to Jo’s folks: Alice, stepfather Nolan
Marry short time thereafter in their Swiss chalet
Introduce Jo to my folks during our honeymoon
Meet endless number of new Swedish relatives:
Norman, Sigurd, Don, Jim, Dorothy, Ruth, Violet
Stop wearing same smelly shirt around house
Go back to church. Take up tennis and skiing
Change jobs from Motorola, a manufacturer
to Deloitte, bigtime professional services firm
Spend entire summer scraping, painting
JoAnne’s weathered, all-wooden house
Wonder with each scrape, stroke from a
perilous ladder position; what happened
Stunned by my supersonic-speed surrender
Today, fifty years later, my head still spins
OF ROY AND PINCH BANDITS
Claims Roy one day
to have been approached
by an angel of GOD
alleges the said angel
brought him news
news that he would pass to glory
complete with day and time...
Come the day... Roy
arranges meeting with cece..
.. his beloved siz..
Roy unable to confess..to cece..
the truth.. bout his departure
ROY goes to university next..
bids friends goodbye...
Roy goes to a stall
buys daughter five tuna fish cans..
a parting gift from a loving ROY...
Roy boards shuttle..
Roy sits next to lovely..
very lovely ladies....
Roy never one to let a pretty girl
escape untalked... says hello
girl snobs ROY.. Roy knows his end is near
decides to say last prayers..
asks GOD to send someone .. to deliver
the tuna to daughter..and his love regards
ROY is snatched sudden by deep sleep..
waves and waves of it.. ROY surrenders..
zones out.. awoken by a sharp mosquito bite..
..or is it butterfly.. looks everywhere..
lovely girl gives him a weird look..
shuttle conductor gives him a weirder look..
waves and waves of sleep swallow ROY..
Awoken by sharp bites.. many of them....
wakes.. now every ones.. giving sweet Roy..
very weird looks.. Swallowed by waves again..
bites starts... ROY keeps eyes closed.. twitching..
half asleep half awake.. distance laughs
more bites and more bites..twitching..
shuttle has reached.. ROY surprised he..
he still lives.. ROY tries to alight...
legs give way under him..
steadies himself then walks home..
ROY arrived home minus three cans of tuna..
with huge bumps to prove them biting...
after relating to us the story..
every ones burst... with stitches of laugh..
teasing ROY to death..OH... hes just met
the famous pinch bandits... Oh oh oh..
the pinch bandits
pretty girls they are
they way lay celebrities
who are too exhausted to
open their eyes.. pinch them
pinch them and again pinch mm..
and ROY day was finally come..home
Lewis K Nyaga
0239 eastafrican maritime
In the odyssey of days that mercilessly run like grains of sand,
An unseen battle is foretold that we shall wage in the shadow.
The war within our hearts, a citadel besieged by falling stars,
Where every collapse exacts from the spirit a tribute, a drop of molten gold.
Beneath the vault, the cosmic architect with thoughts of crystal,
Arranges untouched paradises, but our hands prefer to dawdle in the hourglass,
Battling with the hope that deep down longs to burst into hyacinths,
Teach us, O experience, to offer instead of an army, a choir of chosen voice.
The spell of fears is the garment we don, fling it through the wind!
Even titans carved in stone feel the shiver of lurking fears.
Each lemon seed become a tree, the hope that raises its branches to hanging gardens,
Where the seed of goodness rises to the heavens, to bind remnants of fairies in tender whispers.
Refuse yourself, O being, to lay treaties of war upon paper,
When in your palms you might hold the core of reconciliation, the sketch of a beginning.
Behold how illusions take root in your eyes, that gilded in the sun dance vividly,
Horizons drawn in skies, where stretches a greenhouse of blossoming souls, a chord of love.
It's the battlefield and the sacred hearth, a struggle of good against the very self,
Shields of silver carved in seafoam, inlaid with pearls of love.
Pawns of spirit in the cosmic game, where the queen is compassion,
And the king, a generous spirit, takes his throne in the vastness of the universe, bearer of untamed light.
Thus, with each turn of fate, in the weave of time, we embroider new destinies,
Where the spell of fear is undone, and in the chaos of the night grow fields of stars,
Thousands of lanterns, guiding man's steps to the fountains of ageless love.
In this magical tableau, we take the most sacred war, to be human, and melt it under rays of peace in guitar strings' song.
I was to be in a film during the pandemic
To deliver a public service message
From a chair
Crew re-arranges the screws of the room
Seals the blinds and sets up equipment
Makeup lady approaches me
Surgical mask binding her face
I
Being the alleged subject
Unmasked
She bends down to me
Moves her face close to mine
As if she wants to kiss me
Her lustrous black hair piled to her shoulders
Eyes of Zana dark and enchanted
Re-arranging why I thought I was here
Head tilts to all my flaws
Hands hover and hesitate
Like I’m a crystal ball coming to focus
Mesmerizing eyes
Narrow
To find my lines
Thick eyebrows rise
Before conjuring in her mind
An acceptable face
From this
“Where are you from?” I ask
“Bosnia, my sweet.”
She says in a forest accent
I try to impress
“Your family brought you here from the war?”
She gives little hint
“Mmmm
Something yes like that.”
My face gets heavier with her colors and creams
“May I ask your name?”
“Merjem.”
“Beautiful.” I accidentally say out loud
My face cringes
I’ve caused her more work and trouble
Lifted from her pallet to this payday canvas
“Remain still.” She hushes
From behind her covered self-portrait
I think of candlelight dinners with her at midnight
At a downtown café in a cobblestone alley
Knee to knee under a white-clothed table
Old fairy books leather in our fingers
Devouring my poems
Hanging her paintings
She is wet to the cup of my lips
Toast of my hands
Those eyes
My only purpose for living
If only the mask could drop from her face
If only I was detached
If only we were 20 years ago
If only I was 30 pounds thinner
If only we weren’t all sick and scared
If only these microphones and cameras weren’t here
If only we could recall past lives
If only the end could begin anew
But I knew
I had always always loved her
Someday.
Years End !
A New Year's Beginning !
As two thousand and nine reached out to it's end,
a beautiful Oriental Flower, - could she be my Friend ?
November and December gave wing, showed me promise.
New Years Eve gave birth to a New Year, the promise
of, seemed to give way to the promise of 's, demise
What did I see ?, What did I know ?, was I not wise ?
In the early hours of two thousand and ten,
did it become clear ?, the message she did send,
would it show ?, the promise of, would end in pain
and life would revert to what it was, once again.
This body of mine, my mind, my arms knew only air
as this beautiful Oriental Flower, this Lady fair
did leave me alone, into the darkness, my dreams to stare
at the future, into it's heart and all that it would never bring -
the joyous lyrics, the lively tunes never to sing.
I knew - in pain and disappointment - it might never be
yet, in the worlds of hope, desire, expectations I still want to see
their essence give birth to a future full of realized dreams,
dreams that - because of much - die a thousand deaths, it seems
in the mind of this indigent, disabled old man
who thought - at life, happiness and love - could try his hand,
just one more time before life ends in changes
that take us back and then - maybe ?, - ahead,
but for this moment, here I am, alone instead
pen in hand - words and fate - which arranges
what will fill and with what ?, all life's changes
as moments walk passed all the memories of the effulgence
my Oriental beauty radiated upon this tired old soul
as her - I thought, I believed, me she wanted to know.
Like Christmas day, where there lay no snow,
I am left with a feeling that there is something missing,
yet her beautiful lips, her soul I still want to be kissing.
And now I feel I have been kissing it all good bye.
B J "A" 2
January 1st 2010
Years End !
A New Year's Beginning
As two thousand and nine reached out to it's end,
a beautiful Oriental Flower, - could she be my Friend ?
November and December gave wing, showed me promise.
New Years Eve gave birth to a New Year, the promise
of, seemed to give way to the promise of 's, demise
What did I see ?, What did I know ?, was I not wise ?
In the early hours of two thousand and ten,
did it become clear ?, the message she did send,
would it show ?, the promise of, would end in pain
and life would revert to what it was, once again.
This body of mine, my mind, my arms knew only air
as this beautiful Oriental Flower, this Lady fair
did leave me alone, into the darkness, my dreams to stare
at the future, into it's heart and all that it would never bring -
the joyous lyrics, the lively tunes never to sing.
I knew - in pain and disappointment - it might never be
yet, in the worlds of hope, desire, expectations I still want to see
their essence give birth to a future full of realized dreams,
dreams that - because of much - die a thousand deaths, it seems
in the mind of this indigent, disabled old man
who thought - at life, happiness and love - could try his hand,
just one more time before life ends in changes
that take us back and then - maybe ?, - ahead,
but for this moment, here I am, alone instead
pen in hand - words and fate - which arranges
what will fill and with what ?, all life's changes
as moments walk passed all the memories of the effulgence
my Oriental beauty radiated upon this tired old soul
as her - I thought, I believed, me she wanted to know.
Like Christmas day, where there lay no snow,
I am left with a feeling that there is something missing,
yet her beautiful lips, her soul I still want to be kissing.
And now I feel I have been kissing it all good bye.
B J "A" 2
January 1st 2010