Long Banishes Poems
Long Banishes Poems. Below are the most popular long Banishes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Banishes poems by poem length and keyword.
Beneath heavy eyelids woven from the shadows of the night,
In the gardens of silence, time whispers questions through the ages,
Why, amidst walls frailly built from the silk of longing,
Do I incessantly love the slender thread, hope that sways on the crest of the waves?
Truth and the art of living, a Möbius strip of fine happenings,
Wrap around the heart, in places where fate writes its novel,
Justice, the forgotten phoenix, rising from the ashes of a bewildered world,
Her visage – a mirror in which we behold an eternal reflection of lost freedom.
Emotional imprisonment, a fortress we alone have chosen, unseen builders,
In the camps of our own conscience where all thoughts are damned,
Hope, the alchemist turning the lead of our days into the gold of dreams
Invites us into a dizzying dance, where yesterday is forgotten and tomorrow floats, adrift.
Swiftly, the moments tick and slice fervently through a life that seeks measure,
We hurry to carve ephemeral monuments in the cumbersome – our unwritten burden,
Life is but a moment walking along the weakened rope of 'now', across the abyss,
Simple beings, guitar strings hanging from its chords, we vibrate to the touch of destiny.
Waiting, this lost art, carved in the temples of patience,
Teaches us that each day is a pact with uncertainty,
Through life's labyrinth, we are both Theseus and the Minotaur – our unconfessed duality,
The calendar of the soul full of torn pages, waiting only for that "now" written in the stars.
And comes the long-beloved moment, the promise of the final act in the ancient play of existence,
The breeze that banishes the demons of impotence, feeding the true hunger – that of the spirit, not the Ego,
We run, feeling how our soles burn on the scorching ground of realities that grant no pardon,
In our fervent chase after the justice that has vanished in the shattered pieces of our scattered luck.
The storm of thoughts inundates us, each drop – a life,
And we, modern Don Quixotes, battle the windmills of the moment,
While destiny weaves its webs, we sew patches upon souls,
Life flows, and its end – an unwritten poem, a sweet melancholy, eternally preserved.
I know a lady so fair,
And her talents and beyond compare.
In twilights where eerie silences dance and play,
She echoes life with serene melody of those who cross her way.
Her eyes, like stars, shine bright and clear,
Her smile, a ray of sunshine, which banishes fear.
With grace, she moves, like a sultana in her reign,
Her words, a balm, that soothes the soul's pain.
Her art, a masterpiece, leaves all in awe,
Her skill, a wonder, that none could draw.
Her beauty, a gift, that none could bear,
Her voice, a melody, that charms the ear.
I know a lady so fair,
The epitome of grace, divinity, allure and flair.
Today I awoke in a new place.
My drawing of the curtain shades
revealed the rays of Summer’s Sun
peering at me through the leaves.
O what a glorious sight it was
It filled my soul with such delight
To think that this is the same sun
that lit the world when time began.
I then recalled that I was formed
by the same One who made the sun.
The connection I felt with the sun
harks back to when we both began.
The fact that life needs light to grow,
that trees and flowers in sunlight bloom
and that the sun banishes gloom,
points to a time when things began.
We expect day to follow night
Like lost souls trapped, we look for light.
And when at last the first rays appear
We’re filled with hope for brighter days.
Creation’s light still brightly shines
reflecting our Creator’s love.
When we connect with God’s dear Son
We’ll find our lives have just begun.
The ancient forest breathes a
timeless song,
A brilliant flame within the
quiet night,
Where roots and ancient
rivers drift along.
The towering sequoias touch
the sky,
A burning and eternal
beacon light,
As silent, golden eagles soar
on high.
The mountain peaks arise in
frozen grace,
Are guiding stars forever
shining bright,
A wild and completely
untouched space.
The whispering of wind
begins to fade,
A captivating truth within our
sight,
A secret world within the
quite glade.
The silver morning dew
begins to gleam,
A sudden flash of inspiration
flight,
Across the surface of a
winding stream.
The velvet moss adorns the
dampened stone,
A heavy warmth that
banishes the fright,
Where gentle forest
creatures walk alone.
The autumn leaves of amber
slowly fall,
A golden shield of armor
gleaming bright,
Obeying winters quiet,
freezing call.
The ocean waves crash hard
against the shore,
A steady path that leads us
to the right,
A deep and echoing, eternal
roar.
The desert sands shift under
heavy heat,
A sudden burst of
unexpected might,
Where scorching winds and
endless horizons meet.
The meadow blooms with
petals soft and bright,
A lovely form of ultimate
delight,
A tapestry of color and of
light.
The thunder rumbles in the
heavy air,
A driving force that shatters
through the plight,
A sudden display of power
grand and rare.
The canyon walls reveal the
passage of time,
A glowing spark that makes
the darkness white,
A rugged beauty steep and
quite sublime.
The winter snow descends
without a sound,
A crystal crown that
glimmered in the sight,
And blankets all the cold and
frozen ground.
The violent river carves the
rocky stone,
A soaring bird that takes its
final flight,
A power that belongs to it
alone.
The summer sun warms up
the open field,
A constant hope that makes
the future bright,
Where nature's hidden
wonders are revealed.
The cycle of the earth will
never cease,
A guiding hand that keeps
the balance right,
And leaves the quiet world in
perfect peace.
Swallowed in the deepest recesses of the night
enveloping me in satin folds, so dark, so lonely.
The emptiness I see emanates from within me.
Like moonless nights that swallow the sun in ebon darkness,
it seeps from my pores blinding me
the loneliness ever reaching for me.
Then like the colors of a brilliance cut diamond
the darkness breaks and morning splendor appears.
It is you who banishes the clouds.
It is you who's radiance illuminates my soul.
It is you who warms me with your beautiful light.
It is you who whispers gentle secrets into my ear.
It is you who makes me smile.
It is you who gives me hope.
It is you who helps me live again.
It is you.
It is you;
until, you are no more.
Without explanation, without reason, without comment
you have cast me back into the darkness, into the loneliness
into the pain of never ending night;
Now, but, to await the ending of time in its final mercy.
Never more to again know such emptiness and boundless sorrow.
Finally to realize the comfort of ever lasting sleep,
never to dream again, never to feel the agony,
as my soul writhes and withers in my grave.
11/21/2024
Why all these many thing's
Shine and smell like bedazzled
diamond's inside a plush pottered bowl
containing fresh picked petal
perfumery
That banishes every spec of rustic
dust clinging desperately onto a
swinging chandelier
Hanging resplendent in a castle
greeting banquet hall so everyone
can see
Or it's exhibition library decked out
with many bound leather book's and
cigar lounging chair's
That make the hair's upon one's neck
elasticate snap back with deadly
electric shock infusion wonderment met
Have and both provide oh so so many
pretty thing's all bar none
But the final answers to where
they initially came from or what
they actually mean
To those precious lucky few who
throughout the ages have stood
before and witnessed
These such treasured priceless piece's
and work's of classic artistry
Stowed away and closeted inside private
collection's unlike in a public viewing gallery
So not the many but very few will
ever see neither it the light of day
All of these so many pretty thing's
Hidden so the whole wide world will
never see
The realm of faith is a sacred space
and dwellers there must self, abase.
There, spiritual laws govern sphere,
and perfect trust banishes fear.
God is the ruler of the realm
therefore His actions overwhelm.
The things that happen in this sphere
do not to natural laws adhere.
The kind of faith this realm demands
can only be had from God’s hands.
Each one receives a small measure
which grows when its use gives pleasure.
Faith treats as substance promised things
and on the not-yet firmly clings.
It acts upon the Word of God
and delights always to give Him laud.
Faith caused a man born blind to see
and helped Peter to walk on the sea.
Because of their faith, many were healed
and God’s saints wear faith as a shield.
Saints walk by faith and not by sight
in broad daylight and darkest nights.
Without faith man cannot please God
and the faithless way is very broad.
If we want to be saved from sin
we must believe and let Christ in.
And once He lives within our heart
eternal life for us will start.
No more of this or that, I am the all,
the source wherefrom arises appearance,
beyond space and time, where there is no wall,
no fear, desire or thought interference.
Among dream forms at times I do mingle,
each ego living a life of its own,
bemused by illusions, eye not single,
though their childlike heart wishes to atone.
Each divine spark is a part of the whole,
struggling and striving and searching in vain,
for that sublime light which scriptures extol,
that they may escape earth life filled with pain.
The paradox is, God and we are one ~
Nothing need be done, save coming undone
Nothing need be done, save coming undone,
that ceasing to react to fickle fate,
outpouring love and light, as does the sun,
poised in stillness we stand at heaven’s gate.
I witness all this from my vantage point,
aware of each and every vibration
but all being one, who should I anoint,
as souls drift rudderless in creation?
Be this as it may, God gives me a nudge,
reminding me that He is the doer,
gentling heart, which earlier would not budge
to serve fellow souls as a raconteur.
Dwelling in darkness and fearing the light ~
We dream on until we garner clear sight
We dream on until we garner clear sight,
which reworded means that the mists must clear,
that as the flame that banishes the night,
all demons of darkness then disappear.
God’s grace is love and love employs no force,
so waits patiently for us to awake,
yet we can, if we choose, change our life’s course,
becoming calm and tranquil like a lake.
Having penned this verse as impulsed by God,
there’s nothing more for me to do or say,
save tread mindfully, that whence heart has thawed,
the truth is beheld when we cease to sway.
I am a pillar of light, standing tall ~
No more of this or that, I am the all
The crow, a prophet in the pines,
Caws a lament, a mournful chime.
Is it winter's grip he fears,
Or a world grown cold, with unseen tears?
The curlew pipes a mournful song,
Across the marsh, where reeds are long.
A lonely call, a haunting plea,
For solace lost, across the sea.
The eagle screams, a piercing cry,
A king of clouds, with a mournful eye.
Does he see empires rise and fall,
And mourn the dreams that fade for all?
The hummingbird, a jewel in flight,
Humming whispers, lost to sight.
A frenetic dance, a blur of wings,
Does hidden sorrow pierce such things?
The linnet warbles, sweet and clear,
A melody that banishes fear.
But does it mask a heart's despair,
A hidden burden, hard to bear?
The magpie chatters, secrets kept,
In magpie whispers, slyly swept.
Does he know of joy or hidden pain,
In the stories whispered through the rain?
The owl, wise eyes that pierce the night,
Hoots a lullaby, bathed in soft light.
Is it solace offered to the soul,
Or a hunter's call, to take control?
But wait! A flash of emerald bright,
The peacock struts, a dazzling sight.
Though troubles may on others fall,
He seems to hold his head up tall.
Perhaps within their songs, we find,
A mirror to the human mind.
For joy and sorrow, hand in hand,
Are woven in this feathered land.
So let us listen to their call,
And learn from creatures, great and small.
For in their blues, we find our own,
And hearts that sing, though not alone.
“Let silence teach”, the master said
“that soul may be by God’s hand fed,
whence graced by His touch, we ascend,
on choosing to be by love led.”
Inertia cajoles us to blend
with the crowd that we may defend,
attachments to which our heart clings,
though all that begins will soon end.
Time holds its breath when our heart sings
and it is in these little things,
moments when our ego dissolves,
from our very core, soul’s light springs.
When head to heart power devolves,
the scent of love conflicts resolves,
whence thus doing nothing at all,
our true Self as God’s spark evolves.
When we see, we know and recall,
our luminous Self standing tall
and breathless beholding this sight,
we’re blown away in a bliss squall.
Wonderstruck beholding God’s light,
the flame that banishes the night,
we are at peace, feeling complete,
heart dancing with unbound delight.