Long Aspiration Poems
Long Aspiration Poems. Below are the most popular long Aspiration by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aspiration poems by poem length and keyword.
"melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams " (by poet)
a gift from my father - on the first day of college,
"Golden Treasury"...A book of poetry...
the first poem I read... "She Walks In Beauty".
I carried that book throughout my life, even when I stopped reading poems...
even when poetry wasn't the priority any more,
Instead I looked at recipe-books - how to improve my culinary skills,
and became almost a champion chef in a few months.
Wordsworth and Browning were far away from my thoughts,
Coleridge? Oh No! Porphyria's Lover, and Ancient Mariner...
did not exist in my world of reality!
how many glorious summers went by ~ how many frosty winters ~
Delicious food, excellent company,
chasing after active children, stressing about job-opportunities,
exotic travels, grandiose entertainment ...
had time for every little trivial thing in the world...but no time for
the book my father imagined his daughter would embrace the most!
then one miraculous day...when even my father gradually forgot
the girl who used to blossom in the world of words, and poetry....
I found my precious friend collecting dust,
neglected, discarded, in the corner of a shelf.. couldn't believe it was waiting for me with a beating heart ~
each and every page came alive with a magical touch ~
still my name clearly visible, handwritten with my father's calligraphic dexterity !
almost shaking to spot my long-lost treasure, I cried!
overwhelmed with emotions, tears fell!
as if a candle burnt and melted.
every drop of tears brought back the lavender memories ~
of an exhilarating past... my passions, my yearnings,
tender dreams of lilac hues never attained, the abandoned path I was supposed to tread ...
a path strewn with lyrics and verses, ballads and
sonnets like blazing auburn leaves of autumn ~
now shockingly empty and despairingly barren.
the forgotten aspirations and never-met goals...the tremendous sense of loss,
of crushing heart-break, of torturous frustration,
all flooded in!
many lonely years have gone by!
melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams
ultimately my first love has returned !
First Place
May 15, 2021
Inspired by “ He gave her a book” contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
The train, halted under the shade of sacred hill
They flowed out, and, wandered here and there
holding big, small, colorful, old and new packs of belongings
To, find comfortable chests and knees
some carelessly slept on un-desiring places,
but many there stood still
to face the misty, white clouded sky beyond the ridge,
Perceived their feet had reached
the starting point of adventurous tramp
Men, women, young and old with little ones
crept forward Just like a bunchy row of ants
filled with amazement; some stood, and watched
the vivid green forest canopy and flowering ferns
swinging in the frosty breeze!!
The minds filled with compassion, harmony
and respect each other
By murmurous chanting, that oozed into their veins
in the morning twilight
Tenderness of beams brighten the white dresses
of devotees
Time passed slowly
And the far valley down, a string of people moving upwards
on the zigzagged narrow path
Surrounded by thick green vegetation which
being the habitat of bees, birds, butterflies and
variety of big and small animals
Oozy willows dropping pearl like cold water drops
But few of moving people put a glance
at the phenomenon!
What a peregrination, having a cool gust thrill
which each body and its soul begird
The strenuous walk will bring to a halt at the noble foot print
Some managed to reach the desired end
but some could not attain the will
they stopped hopelessly, stepped down
with forsaken aspiration
those who topped the hill, huddle together
engaged customary rituals,
The eco of the ringing bell spread over the chilled atmosphere
through hill tops, forest, and the moving folks
Excitement broke out
Devotees squeezed catch a glimpse of sunshine!
The sun appeared slowly with a trembling smile
through the glistening horizon
Sunshine! Miraculously radiated across the mountain range,
forest canopy and everything
open to tender beams of light
What a huge strength,
Noble hopes and wishes
fulfilled the pilgrimage!
J.Weerakkody
(This poem is about pilgrims who climb the summit of breezy sacred mountain of Sripada, the holy mountain of Sri Lanka, where suppose to be emblematized the footprint of Lord Buddha. After worshiping the sacred footprints the devotees anxiously watch the panoramic maiden sun rise over the sacred mountain. The poem is vividly realized descriptions of nature.)
~ (~) The journey towards home, yes quiet the tender longing, my soul, weary, inside inside-
out in between outside all about;
given the struggle, attention... being and remaining always seemingly to be quiet-and quite
the insidious, aspiration, perfection, whereas it would lie finally;
it stands-for-me-to be-yet-incomplete... yet and still forever-transfixed;
my peace, the simple fulfillment humble fruit, gentle blessing of this hope. (~) ~
~ (~) Such it is this journey for me, struggle... greatest-ambition... my joy full and
overflowing in the day of its fruition. (~) ~
~ (~) Just like a diamond in the rough glistening-there-lying in the snowdrops; given the
honest exclusions of my soul at-times covertly divided absent-growing-evermore-futile the
original vision of it I feel now, request far more... ! (~) ~
~ (~) Love I believe forever providing abiding beside the truth telling overtly of this —
conjured up all the remnants of fallacies-as-they-are I've-come-to-see will always try to keep
the heart mind in complete denial — as grace is the only hope as well I believe delighting
thriving there amid the-space-between... . (~) ~
~ (~) For all of us, mercy, these simple treasures are-what I pray do-remain, I mean imagine
if it were the-day-that-they-wouldn't-care-to-be — oh I know yes the quiet-separation, perfect
longing, confusion-within — oh-God yes Heaven-forbid... ! (~) ~
~ (~) I mean brogue-down beaten up-chartreuse black purple handed down to me my face...
grappling-I'm not yet crippled my soul lay opened amenable amendable-willing-now-desiring
only for this one-conviction the charity of-your Mercy... .. (~) ~
~ (~) Touched by this I was also though back in the day though nary I know the way it went
my joy it left me in my hate... . (~) ~
~ (~) Consumed I became like an angry wind by someone something else, but I too believe
as well and consider it today to be ultimately by the allowance of the merciful outstretched
hand of God... .. duly abiding-by-His-word, in-Faith... .. (~) ~
~ (~) And so I offer this one exclamation to Him hoping for nothing greater or less than this
result as I say for-another-time; "Okay God, you have my attention now, I am listening... !"
(~) ~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4wojcSO9Ww&feature=related
I stand before you a bitter man, my life ruled by anger and hate with a heart full of passion
and love trying to claw it’s way to the surface through a chest of ice.
I have control over my life and all within, my problems are my own and my fists do my
talking but if you were to take that control away, you would see my tears, tears of fear that
hide in the shadows of my soul, a sign of cowardice, a sign of weakness, a sign of defeat.
I stand before you a bitter man, my life ruled by the memory of my past with a child
battered and
bruised silently crying for the help he knows he’ll never get.
I have a partner who loves and respect me, I have children who look to me as a role model
but if you were to take this family away you would see a frightened little boy who is afraid to
be alone, scared of the dark and the monsters that lurk within, unable to cope with the
pressures of life who’s only feeling of safety comes with a blanket pulled over his head.
I stand before you a bitter man, my life ruled by the aspirer to be unlike those who took an
innocent boy and twisted, tore, broke and destroyed his soul for fun with a body full of pain
and anger.
I built the fragments piece by piece from a shattered remnant, broken still but able to feel,
although not complete I pass for human but if you were to take this soul from me and watch
as the pieces fell one by one to the cold damp floor, you would not want to look back up, for
no longer would I be on the edge of sanity but flying over the line like a vulture stalking it’s
prey, were there once stood a man would now stand a monster.
I stand before you a bitter man, my life ruled by my own selfishness and ignorance of all
things I don’t understand with a desire to learn everything and a young man who’s thirst for
knowledge is unquenchable.
I have with me a answer to everything, I twist and manipulate the question until my answer
fits like the smallest of hands in a newly knitted glove and is accepted without second
thought but if you were to take that answer away from me you would see a boy lost and
confused knowing nothing outside of his own range of mind, scared to venture into the open
world out of fear it may consume him.
I now stand before you a bitter man
With an aspiration to be greater than what I am.
Written: March 05, 2025
***********************
As the final petal droops
upon quivering leaves,
while the soul begins to decay
akin to the evening lights
fading into a coffin.
Tears flow quietly across vacant rooms,
sheltered in the hidden retreat,
of a hapless fool folly.
Aged and forsaken, an ancient blade lies
on a ragged oak table.
All around the termite-ridden
floorboards are strewn with
tattered sheets of stories.
Valiant voices of victory,
vibrate in vivid verses,
preserved with lively Ink.
Decades of disarray have faded away,
leaving behind a cherished tale,
its inked revelations whirl into a frenzy,
as I peer through the glass,
reminiscing about those golden days
when my youth overflowed with joy.
I couldn't assist but notice
the drooping scarlet dahlias.
A gleaming golden crown,
sparkling with lovely
crimson queens
rests upon the head of a forlorn exile—
and that is all that remains.
Under the relentless sun
that preys upon the flames,
how can I rise above
the crimson chaos
that encroaches at the edges,
surrounding the ghostly grave
of the poetic soul
I have lost in the quest for acclaim.
Within the weeping window,
a wild wonder reveals itself,
draped in a vivid shade of vermilion.
Amid the whispers of wayward spirits,
the flawless porcelain of our past
now bears unsightly marks.
Fractured dreams are embellished
with delicate threads, while shafts of
sunlight slices through shadowy skies.
The family fortress,
frozen in cold stone,
waits for its wary wanderer,
beckoning the illustrious
to traverse its dimly paths.
In the serene silence of slumber,
the sorrowful saga emerges.
The embrace of eternal sleep.
A chilling chronicle of the collapse
cascades in the corridors
akin to a haunting harmony.
The aspiration and avarice
ultimately overwhelmed us
As the clock chimed cheerfully
at midnight on that chilling night,
the cunning usurper brandished
a blade and brutally
broke their beings,
birthing ghosts of grim,
unspoken words to weep
behind weathered walls.
At this moment, I am
the emerald evening
of the early dawn,
The waxen white wick
that waits before their
weathered tombstone is
withered to a whisper.
Fortunate failure of fallacy and regret
Contortionist cartoonist illustrating what id like to forget
Proportions of misfortune that I have to measure then reject
Insubordinate illusions of what the deluded ones project
Brandishing bravery as a tool to confront apathy
Vanishing complacency as a fool faces his own pathology
Diminishing returns on an outstretched Hand for mediocracy
Banishing a word in fear of it infiltrating the autocracy
Wealth of a pleasurable sonnet in the afternoon light
Stealth drones hiding under the bonnet of a bomb struck down in mid-flight
Health gnomes on it to prove they won it as they instigate a fight
Shelf philosophy stacked upon it all as we look up to the blazing night
Illumination of discourse as paramount as breathing
Rumination of recourse as they segregate you for dreaming
Communication without force as non violent resistance is beaming
Aspiration for the dark horse underdog winning as its screaming
Collective remiss furrowed brows and a cocophony of injustice throughout the land
Reflective consensus, wearing dentures as the elderly reach out their hands
Introspective observations and elevations of the grand
Non-objective instigations of the weak struggling to take a stand
Voracious curiosity at the passing of a young life too soon
Loquacious luminosity at the exclamations of a full calendar moon
Tenacious furiosity of lamentations upon true doom
Mendacious propaganda that is formed from a silver spoon
A capitalist nightmare in the dark alley of dismay
A conversationalist who doesn’t care out on socialising display
The transformationalist transforming during a military parade
The educationalist performing another game of indiscernible charades
Wonder forming at the dawning of another blistering sunset
Yonder warning as this conforming crowd is whispering political unrest
Ponder the morning as the yawning wind rescinds over the subset
Sunder tawny climate warning as we disregard the youngest
Platonic solids form the basis of physical uniformity of nature
Masonic torrid storm the moment as adolescents think they are mature
Ironic Euclid geometrically far from stupid as we look for another cure
As the rarest of the chosen ones become fewer and fewer
The End
Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025
Thinking there was something going wrong,
It was situation of praise.
Something that couldn`t let black communities be on craze,
But emotionally, puts smile on the entire world face.
Urging and expanding the number of observers through unfailing phase.
On the street, I see passers who are all blacks,
They push heavy goods in their own cars.
Goods that are made out of faith.
That gives much thought of what motivations can enable their descendants create.
Though partiality have always been their fate,
Their concentration always pays them to be great.
They`ve proven the world wrong till date.
Making them that thought to be wise, now wish for a black man to be their mate.
But since yesterday is passed in haste,
Men wearing black skin have to tell them it`s late.
Because they refused to wait.
Black men live in happier days.
Decorated with perpetual age.
The aspiration which human effort can`t make.
It means a lot to tell about black genes.
Yes, in this walk with black skins.
Where we meet ourselves in fame and peace.
Black skin doesn`t show any sign of its carriers to be least.
Identifying the race of black indigenes,
Nature adores everything about black men in all regions.
Before us do we see billions of Africans and black indies,
Behind and beside us are enormous of ******* and carrebians.
Strong in their thinking faculty.
Beautiful in society.
Since black skin elaborates uniquely on beauty,
It’s really exponential concerning its potency.
Time after time, black skin is maintained in decency.
Who dares to replace the charming appearance of black skin with any bleaching colourant?
Very funny to everyone who knows about the consequence it brings.
How sad it is for they that choose to buy bleaching cream for reformat,
And to them who swallow bleaching substance as their main drinks.
I`m sorry, this can`t lay on your table a vitality dish,
This can`t provide for you the charming look of your wish.
At every point of time, the sun and the moon reveals how precious black skin protects the body from deadly infections and unfriendly weather conditions.
If black man stands in front of a mirror, the mirror opens its heart with a lively intention,
Only to praise the outstanding blink of black skin out of superimposed imagination.
Scarlet dreams burn through my thoughts
Whispering soft sensations of compassion
Soothing my heart with feelings of hope
Coloring my ideas with hues of inspiration
Belief in the moments filled with gentle
Appreciation for all that God has given me
Azure breathes of truth that promises to
Sigh through my memories to complete
Prayers that I’ve been praying throughout
History, intimately, intently, endlessly
With a sense of assurance that all will be
Blessed by the One who is eternally with me
Emerald seas purify my heart’s embrace,
Caressing me with pledges of sure faith
Vowing to bring me wisdom and strength
Securing the genuine aspiration that lives
And flows from my veins, bleeding heartfelt
Reveries of lasting feelings that feed grace
Amber sunsets brighten the dusk skies
Capturing melancholy on winds of insight
Shading the moon with flavors of life’s joy
Imagining devotions that will always provide
A sense of purpose and fidelity to the heart
Wise sparks that fire gratitude’s warmth
Lilac laces its way through the stars and moon
Quivering with delight, precious charms inside
Which move through the naked skin to entice
Gentle pleasures within, waves of confidence
Flowing through the layers of silky vibrations
Entwined with a dance of praise to the Deity
Gold gladdens the weary heart with music
Notes imprisoned in the breath of nightfall
Living on the edge of tomorrow and misting
The mountain ridges with sweetest pleasures
Silence beckoning throughout the murmuring
Sound of a melody satisfying the hungry spirit
Silvery threads of brilliant light blushing with
Clouds of mystery which intends to plead innocent
To the charges of worry that have gripped the soul
With endless pain and sorrow, misguided doubts
That leave the mind looking for the answers
Praying for the second chances God grants us
Clear, flawless rumors of angels watching over
The one who fears or regrets the past mistakes
Keeping the gospel within reach of the one who
Knows the answers are there in the prayers that
Speak to the Creator with worship and praise
Adoration that honors the One who formed us, the clay!
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (24) ,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor is Brian Strand
August 18, 2020
Where are you going to direct me if I'm not with you?
What I fear is the root of my most profound agony.
I'm scared as I'm always compelled to pursue.
I've run out of excuses to be emotional and scary.
And on the mantel, candles have been set to provide shade.
Overcast our movements with an unfathomable shade of darkness
Despite my distress and stiffness, I chose to stay with you, not fade.
I cherished the eternal depths of your being a lover and kindness.
The throb continues to pound me, and my heart continues to race.
When we're not together, I feel an emptiness in my heart.
My wish is that we should have parted way before we embrace.
It's been ages since I've felt this thoughtful zest.
The utter denigration of memories
To find an aspiration where none is apparent.
Several moral tales emerge from exploited reveries.
My merit is similar to that of a sacrificial victim pigeon, errant.
Any rose petals could have fallen to the floor in that corner.
Spread similar to a river, elaborate on flows.
Giggles are alive and well, bringing some much-needed light warner.
Rather than flowers, thorns sprouted from the rose.
My heart was tearing itself apart as I screamed in agony.
In my heart, there is no longer space for anything but suffering.
There is no way for you to return to your set point of insanity.
You'd been waiting in line for too long hovering.
My pet bird took off into the trees.
I'm sick of seeing me having to leave.
It's the only thing that's obvious; a vulnerability exposed by the breeze.
Although the pain is momentary, it takes years to evolve.
I crave the contentment and peace you are lacking.
Do you prefer what I imply? Nothing specific you aim to?"
I'm not sure I trust what you're saying.
Not much is left in my body except bones and your fluency too.
All that remains are these revolting, dirty, sickening tremors in my limbs.
I can't even evolve any closer because I'm trapped in the past.
Every day is a hollow one for me; you can only satisfy my whims.
It's impossible to ignore you because you're so lovely ever to last.
Allowing you to suffer has made my life grumpy.
Writing Prompt - Ache - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Written April 23, 2021
I know you know what happened the year we graduated. Just like everything else, it trickled down the grape vine. We were seniors when SHE said she wanted a blue dress for prom. SHE wanted to teach disabled children, an aspiration that came from her love for a baby cousin who had cerebral palsy. SHE and I had art class together our seats adjacent to each other. Her poorly done imitation of a Frida Khalo masterpiece was praised for the effort behind it. That morning I was on my way to school, I had seen a picture of her on facebook from the night before. SHE had attended fright fest, and looked like she had an incredible time. I was on the bus during my morning commute when I saw her on again off again boyfriend. He and I were practically strangers, but I could see he was having a rough day. He had bags under his eyes, ‘probably one of those off times’, I thought. During my first period class SHE hadn't come in yet, probably getting breakfast. My principal called a senior meeting on the loud speakers, the girl next to me rolled her eyes while applying a third layer of lip gloss and mentioned something about senior dues. I sighed as I stood up, as if the world were on my shoulders. I made my way to the auditorium, losing my cohort on the way down. I slouched in the back of the auditorium with my baggy hoodie pulled up to hide my face,I felt myself nodding off. I was always sleepy, and tired of something. “Alyssa committed suicide over the weekend.” I felt a shock come over me, my tears fell as sobs racked my body and the loudest silence overtook my mind. SHE had committed suicide. SHE who had wanted a blue dress, SHE who had gone to fright fest the night before in a green hoodie and posted a smiling photo on facebook.SHE was graduating in less than 7 months and had only lived sixteen years. SHE had easily become a WAS. SHE was the wails that bounced on the walls of the pink girl's bathroom months after it happened, SHE was the boy screaming in the hallway during my math class for her to come back. Eventually SHE was just an auditorium in silence while her parents walked across the stage for her, and the graduating class drowned in their tears. SHE was just a folded cap and gown and a middle school photo in a high school yearbook.