Long Aspirant Poems
Long Aspirant Poems. Below are the most popular long Aspirant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aspirant poems by poem length and keyword.
*Image of Star of David by ClipArt.
Star of David
Ah!
These
stars, for
they all seem
to wedge the whole
nighttide tract of our perpetual sphere's vaulted ceiling, that
lingers on their ambiguous tethered strings, consumed
by a grand dark expanse beyond where imagination
lays their vast secrets, and inspirations dares a
peek, while aspirant souls ventures a quest to
scope a noble claim, and bestowed a fame but,
beware for a twinkle will cause one to blink, for 'twas
an alternate reality, one that is earthbound perchance be a
different sort of star
'twas saved, dates
from past, a gift
be his name
David,
EL
2019 May 10
*1st Place*
A Brian Strand Visual
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 March 01
Sprawling aspirant verdance vibrant,
engraves desire on the ashen sky,
spring-saturated spectral exuberance
spreads on my heart’s emerald canvas.
On the arid cinnamon ground cleaved ,
my auburn desolation pervades sly
through smoldered venation of leaves
with the evergreen hopes entwined.
The unseen tears wept in a torrent
fill the lacustrine cauldron of pathos,
forlorn life’s skeletal essence remains
erect still on the eroded mind’s brink.
The cadence of the fervent zephyr
from the yonder vale of yearning,
glides on rhapsody of lilac lagoon heart,
pulsating with the ripples of dream.
Written : March : 14, 2020
April 14, 2020
Contest : Strand No. 730, Any Theme, Any Form
Sponsor : Brian Strand
The wheel of time churns the disarray dust,
settling on the unstable shelf of my lonesome life.
In the maiming moments of painful perturbation,
truth crumbles in the cauldron of confusion chaos.
My detached mind learns to emotionally disconnect,
cultivates the aspirant ability to evade attachment.
Repulsion frees me from the bond of attraction,
acerbic aversion forms within me a citadel of apathy.
As hard times strikes my private space
the boundless walls of the castle, seemingly impassable,
foil the foray of the outer world to my inner sanctum,
a cocoon of imposed isolation in blissful insulation.
I become a lone prisoner of my making,
captive behind the sensual walls of volatile pride,
find people disappear like mist beyond the horizon,
snap the unseen interaction cords of understanding.
When time comes to travel to the twilight zone,
the instinct of self-preservation dwindles in debris,
the walls collapse with the shattered senile senses,
getting buried in the wreckage of the broken antenna.
The New Year has come wafting on the wings of winter
The high latitudinal areas of the northern hemisphere
Would be in the grip of frequent snowstorms severe
Throwing life in desolate isolation and out of gear.
The cold wave sub-zero conditions of deprivation would persist
In many sections of population for in poverty they can’t subsist
Who wouldn’t see for long the sun of subservient survival
Through the dense fog of abject abandon and rueful refusal.
The frosty winter nights would fall with wrath
Making many frigid who would seek introvert warmth.
After the winter haze clears the weather would change
The spring would develop many high pressure regions
In the lives’ atmosphere of the aspirant people
Living in the spreading mist of uncertain future climate
With the hope of clear blue sky and sunny temperate days.
They have to brace for the increasing ambient temperature
In the thermal islands in the wake of global warming true or not.
The fanatic heat waves in the summer of discontent
Could blow dust of hatred in the raging desert storm
Might sweep like nimbus cloud across the tormented humanity.
The overcast monsoon sky may fall asunder
After unpredictable cloud burst one after another
On gloomy minds plunged in the trough of depression.
They would sink in the flood brought by heavy rains
In low pressure areas where mental stress would deepen despair.
Hurricanes and tropical storms would spin on trade winds
Wreck havoc bringing misery to many
For they would make landfall on the helpless people of destiny.
The cirrus clouds would slowly clear
The low atmospheric disturbances would subside
As the autumn would arrive sailing on the northern wind
With nip in the air and prospect of bright sunny days.
The occasional gusty winds of the fall
Would blow the broken brown leaves away
The way welted thoughts of the mind
Get swept by the squalls of fast moving times.
The old year would take our agony and dreams
Across the winter to the cold folds of another New Year
And we would wait for yet another spring another time
When our lives would bloom like flowers.
January 7, 2018.
The spent year sinks in the captivating cauldron of history,
trace a fading furrow of memory in the shadow of setting sun,
etched in the realm of remote remembrance weary,
as the new months come with blooming buds of promise.
As Janus opens for me the door to the new beginning,
after my time crosses the corridor of the worn-out year,
I’d weave unseen dreams in the tapestry of future ensuing,
the unsung songs I’d fondly sing in cycles of new seasons.
My children who’ve grown aspirant wings of freedom,
have flown away to the seamless sky they have chosen.
In the new year I’d do whatever it takes for them to return
to the longing nest I’ve woven for them in my heart.
In my earnest pledge in the new year I solemnly resolve,
I’d kindle the candles of affection and care in my hearth.
The dreams eluding me in the years that have gone by,
I wish to fulfill before they’re abandoned in the wrap of time.
Restive young mind sunk in an urge of expression
mounted the romantic wings of a roaming butterfly,
flew in the garden touching the flowers of passion
the flight wrote poems with the air on the blue sky.
The aspirant mind adrift in secret search for an anchor
found the life with everything in the sight and sought,
built a ship for the life at sea to float and feel secure
the cruise couldn’t chart poems for the sailor forgot.
The reflecting senile mind in a dire desire to be alive
travels to the past across the present and the future,
plucks the memories not yet stale for time to wipe
and plants the sapling of poems for you to nurture.
December 8, 2017.
I
Anisha Dutta
Are you crazy?
Are you lazy?
Are you drowsy
In your dark days?
I am dynamic.
I am energetic.
I am optimistic
To confront darkness.
Are you bewildered?
Are you puzzled?
Are you confused
When life is dark?
I am aspirant.
I am confident.
I am competent
To overcome ill luck.
Are you morbid?
Are you aggrieved?
Are you scared
Surrendering as a slave?
I am the soldier.
I am born fighter.
I am the warrior
Even brave in the grave.
Must Be Read Contest
Sponsor Silent One
Fifth place in contest
FIFA WORLD CUP
What’s up! FIFA world cup! Most exciting game,
always claiming international fame.
Top players wining legendary name.
Kick the ball, kick- kick: Snaps taken click-click.
Some trying to play trick, some on hatrick.
Cheerful spectators on fun and frolic.
Expert players playing terrible tough.
Extreme tension, temperament rough.
Can’t assess whether effort is less or enough.
Players and spectators both in worry.
What to come up at the end of story?
Playing in world cup demands glory.
Red or yellow card: Penalty, Foul or Corner.
Despair of opponent or rejoice of supporter.
Victory or defeat does not really matter.
Nothing to lose, hence not to get upset.
Participants in World Cup are grand great.
Winner will be decided by chance or fate.
World- wide enthusiasm, each player in merit.
Coordination on team work is the right credit.
Above all, aspirant zeal is the sporting spirit.
2018 World cup! Final contestants: Croatia and France.
Eagle eyes of world-wide viewers watching performance.
With wonderful world cup which lucky team will dance?
Grand Finale! Game over! Field front all quiet clear.
Series of matches: Splendid Superb Spectacular.
Song of victory sung in symphony in French vernacular.
07/15/18
HM
'STRAND PICK G' Contest by Brian Strand
Sports
Sports!
Enjoy.
It is fun.
Cheerful. Joyous.
Nothing to worry.
Victory or Defeat
is not the criterion.
Play games gaily in glory.
Do not get upset, never to lose.
Aspirant zeal is your sporting spirit.
05/22/17
Sports Shorts Contest by Joseph Soper
Once there was an Egyptian girl who applied for a job. She was not given a job because of her appearance. She changed her appearance and went somewhere else. But she didn't get a job because of her age. She thought of borrowing some money from a friend and bought some new good clothes. Then she applied again in a farther place where there are jobs available. Her application was rejected again. She thought of converting to a different religion so she can easily find a job. She did. She applied anew, but her application was not accepted.
She didn't give up. She is not a religious person, but believes there is a God of humans and that the God exists to help humans help themselves.
One day, she went to a job fair. Seeing her credentials by some employers present, they were enthusiastic of hiring her. One entry was shown there on her papers that she is an ex-convict. And they changed their minds.
She is already leaving the fair when one young lady greeted her and said, "Why do you look so sad?"
The Egyptian girl showed her papers to the young lady and said, "I was not hired because of my previous undesirable record."
The young lady asked again, "Do they know the real story why you were incarcerated for commiting such an offense?"
The Egyptian girl replied, "No, they don't. Just be good to yourself and to everybody! Someday, the God of humans will award you with something better... much better than you wish for. Good luck to you in your journey and in all your endeavors in life!"