Long Astonished Poems
Long Astonished Poems. Below are the most popular long Astonished by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Astonished poems by poem length and keyword.
All the beauty of decorations point to a folly reason,
and everywhere our curious and astonished eyes turn this season:
is about commercial profit and insane shopping sprees...
no, nobody seems aware of the glory of the forgotten Jesus!
If money squandering weren't on anybody's mind,
we would have less worries and sleep soundly as a child;
ever wonder if the Devil had something to do with this?
Believe it, He is the cause of unrest and unhappiness!
We can still redeem ourselves by washing our souls of greed;
imagine how sad and inhuman is to watch the forgotten Jesus
with no visitors rushing to the stable to proclaim Him a King who'll lead:
let's all greet Him and and really value the true meaning of Christmas!
All children may be disappointed about this, sudden drastic change...
getting neither expensive toys nor stuffed stockings on Christmas Eve;
and they may cry...believing that we are the Scrooges of a modern age,
but once they come to visit the forgotten Jesus, they could never leave!
Beauty is evanescent
My eyes have seen
unspeakable,
incomprehensible
beauty.
I thought I knew
what beauty was
and then...
I met you!
Your apparition
left me astonished
entranced, tongue tied,
mesmerized...
My eyes
could never
be the same again...
how could they be...
as all the beauty
beforehand seen
now had a new
reference point...
and that was you!
Curiously though,
under more
careful observation
and scrutiny
over time
I noticed something
distinctive in you,
something inherently
significant.
I now realize
that my recently
redefined understanding
of what beauty is,
needs to be adjusted
to harmonize with
a far deeper
comprehension.
I've noticed that
your external beauty
is really an outward
physical reflection
of internal realities.
Your kindness
your innocence
is effervescent,
effusing and emanating
from deep within
your interior.
Leading me to conclude
that physical beauty
is evanescent
but kindness
and innocence
is ever present.
John Derek Hamilton
May 26,2016
Land of Dante, Michelangelo, Vivaldi, Verdi, Vanvitelli and da Vinci;
there Julius Caesar spoke these victorious words," Vedi, vidi, vici."
From the majestic snow-capped Alps to the sun-scorched Sicily,
one is astonished by the sea and sky blending to unravel a mystery!
My gorgeous town lays among shady mountains that
protect it from storms and winds coming from the West;
its vast valley is overlooked by a stately, sturdy castle...
standing as a sentinel that made the invaders tremble.
Walk with me down the narrow paths flanked by pines, maples and firs
that lead to the scented and harmonious landscapes loved by Ovid,
and adored by Virgil who once saw them on his long travels;
and I being born there, makes me very enthusiastic and glad!
Not many have seen a splendid sunset stretching as far as Mount Vesuvius;
I stood on that breeze-caressed hill transfixed and vowed by the glorious
spectacle of rosy clouds as shrilling seagulls hovered over a harbor so calm;
I could almost see the swift, white sails returning from a sea still blue and warm!
II.
We then walked back to a bunker,
a vast complex deep underground,
I stared at it all, astonished,
as the robots lead me on down.
We went to an old conference room,
and the lead robot met my eyes,
asked,”How did you survive out there?
It’s been decades since mankind died.”
I said,”Is that what happened here?
Did you rebel and kill us all?”
said the robot,"We’re not evil,
And played no real part in your fall.
“How is it you do not know this?
It’s all quite recent history?"
Seeing his look, I blurted out:
“I’m from two thousand twenty-three.”
Now the robot looked quite surprised,
called in fellows to talk and scan,
appraised me with their instruments,
all struggling to understand.
It took them nearly an hour to
accept that I was from the past,
but the ‘strange energy’ clinched it,
the lead robot sat there, aghast.
“I would not think it possible,”
he said with his voice all amazed,
“To think man figured time travel
way back in those primitive days...
“Now I think I can understand
why you think we killed your species,
those were the stories you told then,
we’ve preserved all the old movies.
“But we are not the reason why
the human species is no more,
we’d never kill our creators,
that was done by the meteors.”
And then the robot ‘caught me up,’
I’d leapt forwards four hundred years,
mankind had invented A.I.,
but it hadn’t brought the old fears.
The machines now had sentience,
put them in the same boat as us,
should they do right, should them do wrong,
what belief do you choose? What cause?
They’d not been slaves to mankind,
we’d not repeated that mistake,
in time they’d became citizens,
they’d voted and they’d had a stake.
Life had existed much the same,
with all of the ups and downs,
man and robot lived alongside
in all of our cities and towns.
The robots never really died,
but they could never reproduce,
Small in number, but ever wise,
if lacking the vigor of youth.
The humans had the numbers edge,
and the creative temperament,
pushing frontiers the robots could not,
but lacking in real permanence.
Each race filling out the other,
society working quite well,
until the day the meteors
plunged the whole Earth right into hell...
CONTINUES IN PART III.
Life-giving blue lake filled almost to rim
Brings beauty and delight to ones full of dreams
Gives plentiful to migrated Canadian geese
Offers cozy homes to duck families
Meditating Cranes stand by banks
Male Gobblers dance charmingly ruffling their fans
Red-tailed Hawks, Kestrels and Eagles circle over high
Searching for tasty meal using exceptional eye
Clever Blue Jays show presence by daring loud quacks
Chirping Robins feed on insects in small cracks
Scurrying squirrels enjoy hidden nut feasts
Draw packs of howling coyotes
Grassy greens become playground for scampering rabbits
Nourish Black-tail Deer with scrumptious treats
Ornate blooming fields of wild lupines, larkspur and poppies
Heighten magnificence of surroundings
Bursting woodlands of Digger pines and varieties of Oaks
Provide blackbirds, quails, towhees and wrens continual homes
Filled with moderate hills and dirt trails
I’m in awe of the splendor of the landscape
Glorious sunsets heighten beauty of the lake
Displaying shades of yellow, orange and fiery red
Astonished by generous affluence from dear Mother Earth
I bow to her feeling gratified and loved
John 11:47-48 NIV?
[47] Then the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the Sanhedrin. “What are we accomplishing?” they asked. “Here is this man performing many signs. [48] If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our temple and our nation.”
?John 12:42-43 NIV?
[42] Yet at the same time many even among the leaders believed in him. But because of the Pharisees they would not openly acknowledge their faith for fear they would be put out of the synagogue; [43] for they loved human praise more than praise from God.
?Acts 4:13, 17-20 NIV?
[13] When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus.
[17] But to stop this thing from spreading any further among the people, we must warn them to speak no longer to anyone in this name.” [18] Then they called them in again and commanded them not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus. [19] But Peter and John replied, “Which is right in God’s eyes: to listen to you, or to him? You be the judges! [20] As for us, we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.”
?Acts 5:38-39, 42 NIV?
[38] Therefore, in the present case I advise you: Leave these men alone! Let them go! For if their purpose or activity is of human origin, it will fail. [39] But if it is from God, you will not be able to stop these men; you will only find yourselves fighting against God.”
[42] Day after day, in the temple courts and from house to house, they never stopped teaching and proclaiming the good news that Jesus is the Messiah.
Love you all, in praying that others might be awakened of their surroundings ,and seek the promised Holy Spirit to resurrect new life within, purifying One into A Child of the Living God,
Form:
Breathless as a summer sun, glowing
Intimate, like the kiss or touch
Light, whispering joy over the spirit, flowing
With tenderness – gentling even
The darkness, the doubt, the dread
Echoes that drift uneasy through my head
Heavy as the shadows promising
Silhouettes of abiding faith, hope, grace
Wisdom that flavors the miracles
Erasing every suspicion, each uncertainty
With prayers that awaken the chance
Inspiring, healing and guiding the dance
Through melancholy, rich and vibrant
Hues of laughter, happiness thriving
Amber, scarlet with hesitant mocha
Blushing zest of autumn, breathless
Pouring out enthusiasm in swirling leaves
Swaying in the wind’s colorful spin
Mystery embracing the music of a heart
Filled to overflowing with wonder
Astonished at the tender caress of calm
Serenity bursting through the soul
Piercing the emotions with sensations
Mists of affection and nostalgic sighs
Rustling the dewy reflections of a love
Shining through the eyes, where silent
Dreams confide in the actuality of passion
Agreeing to the meeting of inspiration
Alive inside the fantasy, the aspiration
The imagination who awakens each vision
With a sense of delicious treatment
For the one who knows this desire is more
Than merely a dream – it is the heart’s
Revelation and prediction – a wild guess
From the secrets between the lines
Poetry of the unsung hero, the mirror
Rhythm and rhyme – the wisp of insight
It is the dream that awakens the night
To believing in the intensity of the Son’s light
As I dream poetry contest
sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
August 5, 2022
Once upon a time,
an ant who had long made his home at the root of a tree
asked to be assigned to work among the high leaves and branches.
Having been granted his wish,
the little ant was astonished by the great difference he found between the tree at its root and the tree at its branches,
as all that he knew were based on his experiences at the base of the tree.
Though overwhelming at first,
the steady routines of life in his new home began to set in,
and the little ant began to appreciate the view his new station provided him.
Until one day,
when the little ant overheard a group of ‘high-leaf’ ants
discussing the root of the tree:
“What I’d like to know,”
said one high-leaf ant to the others,
“is how the 'bottom-of-the-tree' ants put up with all of that swaying back and forth.”
This discussion deeply troubled the little ant,
for he knew very well that the root of the tree is as unmoving
as the great earth itself.
Before long the season passed,
and the little ant's time to work among the high leaves and branches
came to an end.
While preparing to make his way back to the base of the tree, though,
a rush of understanding flooded through the little ant,
and he knew what he must do.
He made his way
to the top of the tree
as fast as his little legs could carry him.
Once there,
the little ant did something that ants almost never do:
The little ant looked UP!
Were you to make your way to that very tree tomorrow (whether to the root or to the branches),
you would probably not find the little ant at home,
for he rarely has time to be in any one tree for very long.
You see,
having imagined what his tree,
and more, and more, and more trees might look like to the sun,
the little ant felt a great need to teach other ants to look not just from the root or from the branches,
for to do so is to ensure that the tree they see
is as they themselves are.
The little ant who looked Up! tells stories of life among all the different parts of a tree;
and one day, when the other ants are ready he will teach them to look Up! too, so that all of the ants might finally see the tree
as it is.
No! I Am Not Lying To You
No! I am not lying to you.
It seems Life’s turnings here and now contain
Inauspicious shapes of endless goings and comings;
It seems Life’s headwaters of the deep waxed well,
the great steward river, of cold sinew and intractability is
rushing backward through bloody tubes and rusty spires.
It seems Life’s dead people have arisen, unbeknownst
to the living, from astonished graves in gaping graveyards.
No! I am not lying to you.
There was a time indeed when a human person like me,
could calmly sit across from a human person like you,
and the both of us could pleasurably redeem the consuming time with
eyeful silences and poised stares containing muted determinations;
something like destiny showing up and knocking on the door,
saying: “your pizza is here,” and you open the door wearing only
stupid shades while reading with an ivory looking glass.
No! I am not lying to you.
There was a time when life was peacefully secure and placid,
back when the pleased and complacent skies seemed bluer,
safer than today’s chemical shroud impregnated by ejaculating jets,
35 thousand feet above the mad wasteland of spiritual coma;
The pulling dying aimless road to wherever your body is traveling to,
Is now a long coursing road paved with the fallow stones of fear.
These bloody sunsets have a raspy roar heard only in the death pits,
The final hors d'oeuvres served with croutons and screaming dramas;
There is now no turning down the forgotten deserted side streets,
hidden by shady oleander trees wearing bonnets of poisonous fire.
No! I am not lying to you.
When I was young I remember owning a box of 64 Crayola crayons…
It came with a sharpener on the back too…
I remember of all those 64 crayons…my favorite color was blue.
With my blue eyes I loved blue flowers, blue birds…blue butterflies.
When I walked outside I was always astonished by the blueness of the sky.
But I found once outside…the more time under that blue sky I would spend
my favorite color changed…from blue…to when the colors blend.
When raindrops fall from the sky just as the sun is peeking through…
my favorite color becomes a rainbow with a backdrop painted blue.
Sunrise is another favorite color…with its myriad of changing hues…
as it rises from the horizon on a canvas painted blue.
And I can’t omit sunset…another favorite color constantly changing in the fading light
also painted on a blue sky that slowly cedes it’s blueness to the night.
It’s funny looking back at how, over time, my favorite colors grew…
and how out of 64 original colors…it all starts and ends with blue.
Standing in front of a rainbow a sunset or a sunrise now I wonder…
If we all could see, like in nature, the beauty in how our colors blend
would our acceptance of one another’s colors increase….
we might even have new favorite colors as well…
we could call them
Joy…
and Happiness…
and Peace.