Long Astray Poems
Long Astray Poems. Below are the most popular long Astray by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Astray poems by poem length and keyword.
At this time of year when the air's crisp and clear,
And the wind blows the leaves 'cross the ground,
They say there comes stalking, that the dead come a-walking,
And spirits and ghouls haunt the town.
When the moon shines bright you may see by it's light,
As witches on broomsticks fly by,
And the Will-o-the Wisp when the air's cool and crisp,
Tries to lead astray all passers by.
The wind in the trees is blowing the leaves,
And making a ghostly moan,
'Round the house outside warning all what betide,
Any who fail to stay home.
Stay close by the hearth if ye be faint of heart,
For the ghosts and the ghouls are at play,
till the witching hour when they lose their power,
And they must return to the grave.
Cupid Herself sings to us a love song,
hoping to infuse in hearts, love and light,
that we enter heaven, where we belong
but since demonic fear is our soul’s blight,
cold heart notices not love’s seduction,
bemused by desires, conjured by ego,
led astray by mind’s faulty deduction,
trauma bonding thus, afraid to let go.
Ego builds an imaginary script
and till this day, like a dead man walking,
we remain in ego’s vice like hold gripped,
fleeing from imaginary ghosts stalking.
Be this as it may, we can always choose,
God’s love and light as our heart’s only muse.
God’s love and light as our heart’s only muse,
dissolves false identity, we cling to
but we need to walk the path, win or lose,
being he who above cuckoo’s nest flew.
To transcend mind, we must leave thoughts behind.
It’s something even mind can understand!
Shifting into silence, where no fears bind,
we make in the vast void, our final stand.
Since it’s easy, this shift is difficult
because we are used to struggle and strife
but choosing not to follow any cult,
we allow our soul, a new lease of life.
Voids within fill, if we choose to be still,
aligning head and heart, with divine will.
Aligning head and heart, with divine will,
simply means we witness life as it flows,
feeling soma nectar within us spill,
whereupon our auric field gently glows,
imbibing God’s elixir from heaven,
which ignites feeble form with magnetism,
throbbing within body chakras seven,
illuminating this organic prism.
God eagerly waits for us to come home
but we too must likewise opt to entwine
with bliss, aligning with cosmic gong ‘Om’,
reverberating deep within our spine.
Hark! Music of the spheres takes all along!
Cupid Herself sings to us a love song!
Being happy was my wish for cynosure,
in living, I sought either fame or wealth...
having seen the results of utter foolishness;
although I claim nothing, I have everything.
No villas in Hollywood with a big screen and pool,
no ranches on the wild prairies of Southern Texas,
no suites on the Upper East Side* or Greenpoint,*
only a studio in Queens*where I write and compose.
Cynosure can enrich or even destroy someone's life,
it's a light we are attracted to, its brilliance is delusive;
and following any dream we must stay on the same path,
not diverge and go astray to find something so destructible.
Many have a cynosure for arts, others for law and science;
whatever your vocation is: follow it and be very successful,
on the contrary, the majority of us must settle for much less,
leading a normal life and raise children who'll become leaders.
Let your cynosure for contentment fill you with great delights,
learn from the wise and the smart, choose wisdom and life;
drink wine, celebrate each given moment with sheer thrill,
and despite your rank, you can't be denied the joy of living.
* Upper East Side: New York City
* Greenpoint: Brooklyn, NY
* Queens: one of the four counties
which make up NY City
Written on 6/27/2016
As darkness covers moonlit night
stubbornness of will tracks the light--
and climbs upon iced mountain top,
so near to fall, so quick flakes drop.
This sense of pride now goes astray
while new lunar moon guides the way;
and as stars circle winter- air,
I choose between hope or despair.
Beyond this pale landscape appears,
a gleaming flame till morning nears :
Aware of what such folly brings...
my heart triumphs when conceit flings:
Now I accept humility
which offers me gentility.
.............................
9/3/2019
Overcoming Mistakes
Contest of Chantelle Anne Cooke
Light skin, fair skin
All clamoured for by
Creams to the rescue
Fading creams, toning creams
All bleaching creams
Women and men, old and young
all clamouring for light skin.
Looks enhancers
creams a dozen to a penny
Melanin, so disdainful
Ebony black frowned upon;
Beauty markers haven chosen.
Women and men, old and young
All allured to the illusion that;
that beauty is in faded skin
that beauty is in toned skin
that beauty is all bleaching
Creams a dozen to a penny
Enmity with melanin;
Alas the elbows,
the knuckles and
the ankles all but
refuse to bow; shaming the rest
of the body
Patches here and there;
Skin colours so unreal.
Colour and beauty tip gone astray;
Under skin in a state of agony
Damage done is a done deal.
Real beauty is natural
Ebony skin can't be faked
Light skin is Society's call.
(Written in the year 2015)
Make me smile and feel as if I am the only one.
Turn around and leave me bitter and forsaken.
Hold me close and kiss my lips, make me feel falsely safe.
Run to her, with my taste on your lips and listen as my heart chafes.
"No woman has ever treated me better", is what you say.
If that is true, what leads your heart, body and soul astray?
Love me, leave me, lie to me, and think that I don't know.
All you are doing is making my disdain for you crescendo.
Use me, abuse me, tear me down and try to hide what you do.
For I will bide my time, foolish man, you have not the slightest clue.
Its a nice night for a stroll, crepuscular sky, with a repleted moon.
Hand in hand, we saunter through the path to your impending doom.
I lean up and gently brush my lips upon yours smelling her again.
Smiling, envisioning how you just walked into the lion's den.
My body trembles and starts to shake, you think its because I'm cold.
No, baby its because you're going to get your recompense fourfold.
My skin melts away and fur is now where creamy flesh once resided.
Bones shift, teeth grow a blood lust ensues and your fate has been decided.
My teeth gnash into your body and soon you will be forever changed.
This is your fate, now not only our DNA but part of our souls are exchanged.
If you're strong enough to survive the bite, you'll become loup-garou like us.
You will be pack, no more lies, and cheating and no more mistrusts.
For treating me like I was your play thing, this is your punishment.
People like you have souls that are black and malignant.
Heard about the Berlin Wall
It made a rather horrid fall
It stood so tall in victory's palm
Everyone here is far from calm...
History has been made for the saddened days
Leaving no room for the crowd of joyous praise
It’s a tragedy that this wall came tumbling down
Now, they are like headless clowns with a frown
Stand tall now and get on the ball
You will not fall like the Berlin Wall
That wall got wrecked in a hurry…in a hurry…
It must have destroyed and gave many a injury
Heard about the Berlin Wall
It made a rather horrid fall
It stood so tall in victory's palm
Everyone here is far from calm...
Heard about the tragedy and chaos of it all
Makes me mad and sad as I walk this hall
Makes me think hope is little in these dark times
How many times do we have to put up with these crimes?
That strong Wall came tumbling down like the Wall of Jericho
It came down with many a mighty blow…what a shameful show
Stood so tall like a Knight in the night, shining bright with might
Delight will rise after the anguish of all will fall with a fall so contrite
Heard about the Berlin Wall
It made a rather horrid fall
It stood so tall in victory's palm
Everyone here is far from calm...
Heard about the innocent people dying, trying to get out of East Germany
Echoing their shouts, yearning about their long-loved, long-lost freedom
Wish I can mend their wounds and bring them back to life to set them free
They wanted it tremendously, can’t blame them…heard their attempts of running to safety, sounding like midnight drums…I hear their pleading hums…as the debris of the wall collapsed into the palm of oblivion that leaves our faith in humanity to useless crumbs
Prayers for the deaths of oh so many
Prayers for the restoration and plenty
Heard of the tragedy and it made me upset
Hope the men who started this attack feel regret
Heard about the Berlin Wall
It made a rather horrid fall
It stood so tall in victory's palm
Everyone here is far from calm...
Their destructive, avarice ways
Will lead them awfully astray
Well, these unpromising days
Has hardly anything better to say
To be by myself today
I am unable to find my own identity
I have acquire another self at bay
Upon numerous forms without a remedy
And I do wonder...
When was I a wholesome self to have lost it?
Did involvement wander...?
Have I a sounding completion to perfectly bleed?
As my mind ran through my lifetime's worth
My lifetime's worth ran my mind astray
Am I remembering or did memory birth?
Who I potentially am for my place in the world to stay...
We are always new when we begin to think
But we cannot discard who we once were...
Where was once the perfected me I now dream?
Have I not an advancement to rather veer?
The leaving heart grieves ever so
Where the yearning life desires unknowingly
The forgiving death bestow life with roles
Have you a life for death an identity?
First bell rings, the shuffle begins—
sunburnt stories dragged from skin.
“Write what you did,” the prompt repeats,
while I juggle rosters, forms, receipts.
They groan, they stall, they stare at air,
I sip cold coffee, feign repair.
This rite of passage, tired and true,
a paper bridge from June to school.
Pencils tap, a groan or two,
blank pages stare like skies unblue.
Some scribble tales of poolside bliss,
of yachts, of fame, of movie scripts—
a flex, a boast, a gilded lie,
too polished for a child to try.
Others barely scratch the page,
a sentence gasped, a silent cage.
Then one—misspelled, a tangled thread,
but something in it softly bled.
A whisper lost in syntax storm,
a cry disguised in fractured form.
A paper torn, the margins frayed,
each crooked line a truth conveyed.
No yacht, no beach, no firework show—
just hunger etched in undertow.
My breath halts, the room goes still,
the clamor fades, replaced by will.
This child—this voice—this silent scream,
not fiction, not a summer dream.
I read again, then once again,
each misspelled word a thread of pain.
No time for tears, no space for fear,
the path is clear, the need is near.
How do I reach, not scare away?
How do I help, not go astray?
This is the test, the sacred fight—
to see, to act, to get it right.
A dark cloud rains over me, hangs as a
mistletoe above my head
Bleeding scars are revealed as I lay my
heart upon the table
My river runs dry for fear of
being mocked
though I've tried, I have fallen
in love
A dark cloud rains over me, hangs as a
thief in the night above my head
Deep cuts of my past are revealed as I
lay bare my transgressions
My river runs dry for fear of
being mocked
though I've tried, I can not stop,
loving you I can't stop doing
A dark cloud rains over me, hangs as your
love does upon my heart
Scabs of a once healing wound, peels to
show it's damaged core for all worlds to
see I stand astray and beacon your name
My river runs dry for fear of
being mocked
though I've tried, I've noticed your visions
of romance were cruel, and all along I
played the fool
A bright light bears above me, gleaming as the
sun does on a beautiful day
Bleeding scars are now healed, Peeling
scabs are now covered. For slight perfection
bears it's name upon my soul
My river runs half for fear of
being mocked
though I've tried, and tried I have my love
for you has begun to falter.
The morning sun bears bright above me
Your eyes once like midnight fireflies no longer
light up the trenches where my heart lies
My river, now overflowing, runs with
no mocking
though I've tried and tried I have I can now say
HE WAS JUST A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION.