Long Bastions Poems
Long Bastions Poems. Below are the most popular long Bastions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bastions poems by poem length and keyword.
Riding Wild Unto The Sun like a Night Light
with the Sword of Swords for the Last Knight,
Full Speed Into Valleys of Chivalry
Golden Helmet and Shield, here comes the Holy Cavalier
Trodding on Lucid Cavalry
Archetype Vangelis Defying Gravity,
Ascending Ethers from the Wild West, Northbound
Fire Wielding, Shaffron, Crinnets and Crown
Gallant and Free, moving Swiftly in Nobility
Into Halls Of Legendry and Infinity,
Cloudbound to breach Summits and Ranks
Armored with Ankhs and Sage,
Gryphon Crest on the Chest, Chanting Psalms Of Eternity
Mentally, Physically, Spiritually in Full Rigidity,
Blazing Untamed in Astro Luminosity
Crossing Thresholds of Astral Plains, to bring Cosmic Rain, in Cosmic Ferocity
Solar Glowing like Opal Stones
Blitzing like Drumfire, like Wild Stallions Of Old
Headstrong, Into the Heart to Reach for Stars
and Ignite the Sacred Flame into Bonfires,
Ever-Valiant, Ever-Forth in Heroic Strides
The Mantra, for The Bastions Enterprise
Into the Realms of the Soul for the Illusive Grail and Stone
and claim the Victory over Misery and Flesh and Bone,
where Legends are Born and Phoenix Fly
there Tales Echo of Battlecries,
and The Valiant is reminded in Repose, of Tales Of Ghosts
and Walks Into the Hills Of Zion, The Last Of Caballeros
They offer no rope nor traction.
Following a prolonged icy tongue-blast.
A slow slide into the greasy crevasse.
Where lie soul-stiffening white jackets.
There seem to be infinite oceans of infinite critics.
Vast deserts without an oasis of empathy.
Powers that be will steal the last of the cherries.
Leaving mountains of bluish pits and pluming death.
Drunk clowns are juggling our happiness.
Squirting flowers filled with ink and lye.
To cloak the last bastions of gilded sanity,
To poison any goodness in our lives.
So, what are the children of silence to do?
Sit in their blackness and lick a sticky candy dish.
Surrender the ghost of a million to appease a few.
Or come out swinging in the light-with fiery fists.
Beyond bright garish flashes of neon lights,
blaring music and drunken barroom fights,
it's my wish to find tranquility and solitude
within a realm where the moon is red-hued.
I'd gladly wander a crimson moonlit path,
far away from this world's uncivilized wrath.
Where warblers sing lullabies to me at night
while I watch a hungry owl take wing in flight.
Myriads of stars will be shimmering in the sky,
and in complete contentment I will peacefully lie.
As a red moon rising hovers far above my head,
I'll be sheltered without need of worry or dread.
In a quiet sanctuary of tall evergreen trees
I'd welcome the evening's cool flowing breeze.
With a blanket spread on meadowed grounds,
I'd revel with joy at Nature's awesome sounds,
like the trills of doves giving their mating call
and the muffled rumble of a distant waterfall.
There are no bastions here, nor fortified fences.
In this meditative place I can liberate my senses.
I'll be one with my surroundings, totally at ease,
as if I'm floating on calm waves of unruffled seas.
Far from cacophony that offends an idyllic repose,
beneath a sanguine moon, where no one else goes.
Buttonhole Daisy
by Odin Roark
My city bud and I
How we love the long walks
Daisy beneath my chin
Tucked securely in a buttonhole
Me with discovery in my eye
Maneuvering ever changing trail signs
We walk these precipitous canyons
This forest without trees
‘cause that’s what a New Yorker does
and if nature be your thing
you take it with you
My feet tread upon sidewalk and road
Concrete and asphalt
Candy wrappers and dog doings
As safely harnessed in
Daisy wriggles for joy
Knowing it’s only for a day
But it’s her bucket list
Together we drink in
Vast canyons of rock and nesting pitches
Forged atop dry beds
Where once flowers and soil aired freely
Fowl and beast danced in synchronous survival
Unaware evolution’s drumbeat was creating
Esplanades of another kind
Here where once crept moccasin-feet
Ever conscious of disturbing precious surroundings
Remain but a buried imprint beneath
Urban scree and mountainous bastions
Afternoon brings overhead sunshine
Peeking into the ravines
Where ant-like motion smothers the surface
Scurrying left and right
Many going nowhere
Still the light reaches us
Warming our journey
Through dens and caves of onlookers
Perhaps wondering as well
Where did all the trees go?
By nightfall
Daisy begins to droop her head
A long day taking in so much
Has left little room for the jungle
That darkness of a city’s life
Where red and blue lights flash incessantly
Alternating with sirens
And blasts of police car Urp Urps
Giving habitual warning
Don’t attack
Don’t hit
Don’t fire
Don’t exercise evolution’s beast-like modernity
By sunrise
We arrive back at our own brownstone cave
Where sitting next to the vase of her kin
Waiting a turn to take their first time walk
Their last time remembrance
Where something besides captivity in a vase
Will fill their final hours
I take a very droopy daisy from my buttonhole
Lay her to rest beneath another page of my diary
Lift the pen to record our day
Smile at the other daisies
Knowing their bucket list will be filled as well
And begin my daily entry
She loves me
She loves me not
She loves me…
Entering the castle and an evil fog enveloped me
As on the bastions of the fortress I roamed.
Fear gripped me as I fell faint on my knee.
Men lay dead on the hillside as horses' mouths foamed.
The bloody battle was won it seemed,
Bounty purloined but at what a price.
Yet in my ears I could still hear how soldiers screamed,
No riches could make them happy nor life suffice.
The fog dissipated and a vortex took me down
Inside the castle's dark and hideous caves,
Chained to the wall was the skeleton of a clown,
While on the rack I heard the groans of condemned knaves.
Tears in my eyes, I was momentarily blinded
I lost my way in the putrid alleys of the castle
I fell and for a while was truly winded,
As a pair of hands picked me up without further hassle.
The kitchen was warm and full of savoury smells
A robust man offered me scones and a cup of hot tea.
From far off I heard the peals of joyous bells
"Be careful of ghosts," he laughed with obvious glee.
F Fight to win a just and equal deal
R Rights demand today, and do not kneel!
E Equal in demand for means to live
E Equal in demand that leaders give
L Liberty to seek and speak the truth
E Energy to fight all the uncouth
B Bastions of belief that change will come
A Adamance for all to gain not some
N Nation first, and not a party’s greed
O Onslaught in the streets of those in need
N Narrative of choice is Freedom’s voice
T Time, a witness of the people’s pain
O Objects of the ones who pocket gain
D Duty sold for bribes of highest price
A Actor-leaders play with lives like dice
Y Young and old! Bring back the Golden Age
Eileen Manassian
Bliss renews like our breath, slow and steady,
gripping us in all-time meditation,
wherein feeling both tranquil and heady,
aware of the magnetic pulsation,
we do nothing while we’re being transformed,
prayerful gratitude our attitude,
that as last bastions of darkness are stormed,
cognisant of our soul’s infinitude,
we watch patterns of old being erased,
lower mind being instrumentalised,
leaving presence wonderstruck and amazed,
truth of singularity realised.
With fullness in emptiness now the norm ~
We surrender to God’s benign bliss storm
We surrender to God’s benign bliss storm,
caused when polarities in form mingle,
where all we do is to the pulse conform,
as in stillness our eye becomes single,
with ego spawned delusion peeled away,
we entwine with the dweller of our heart,
moment by moment and day after day,
deeming all souls as one and none apart,
all this enabled without any fuss,
where even as life flows on by itself,
at peace and at ease aboard God’s bliss bus,
in time recognising the light of Self.
The reality that is, transcends time ~
The heartbeat of Self mirrors bliss beat’s chime
The heartbeat of Self mirrors bliss beat’s chime,
emanating from God Himself of course
being realm of heaven where we so climb,
effortlessly without employing force,
that thus beholding Self as living light,
we see we’re made in the image of God,
so to that extent the scriptures are right,
though to reach there our heart must be first thawed,
letting go of each conditioned belief
and completely relinquishing desire,
that in this manner, turning a new leaf,
we transform as the very cosmic fire.
Consciousness has deemed that we are ready ~
Bliss renews like our breath, slow and steady
Crispy leaves curl from aged to fetal
As time pronounces every petal done.
A moment in the lasting breath of summer,
When beauty flicks from every flower flung.
A burst of color paints our eye
Across the newly frosted sky,
Beneath a showering rain of leaves.
Then summers gone, and nature grieves.
Within our aging gardens a whispered crunching
Meets our ear, as leaves become
Nature’s cornflake breakfast
Quickly eaten, disappear.
Footfalls briskly whisk the hours away
Every breath carried by a northern wind away.
Within their reach small creatures teach us
Lessons Mother Nature seeks to tell.
The squirrels are first to read her poem so well,
Dancing to the wind and songs that tell of
Long cold days, with nothing left to eat
And so they hurry-scurry, shoring bastions to the beat.
Sparrows shiver on wires now,
Still-life vignettes hung, with frosted edges blurred.
Listening to the winter’s whistling howl
They know by way of instinct what’s inferred.
Hearts are sleepy-silent in the shortened hours,
Resisting natures shift to stiffen flowers.
We watch the season drowsy change
as daylight sinks in slow demise.
Fall, so like the lowered lids
Of closing eyes.
The final frontier?
So much to take in
clutter and congestion
upon this revolving earth
and yet
so little left of green forests,
settled in by buildings and humanity
ramparts on the left
bastions, bridges, barricades
highways on the right
with little remaining in between.
Spaces in the middle
along the edges
down the valleys
across the fields
there from up on the mountains
stretching and tugging at time
exonerating a moment of creation
securing futures unseen
living the dream of being
waylaid by man and history and change.
Space opens
closes off the planets
shuts out the stars
drifts off into the distance
where meteors and asteroids race
to escape the boundaries
to elongate the outer margins
to expand the realms of reality
to endure
beyond the hand of man.
Unceasingly there is evil and malice in this world,
Waiting for the perfect chance to betray and corrupt.
Even in golden days, when all dwell in happiness and light
Will there be denizens of the night and of deep dark places
Where light is shunned and hope goes to suffer a torturous demise.
But as long as evil broods and waits in contempt of all,
So will there be champions of good and pioneers of virtue,
Seeking out the cruel shadows of the night and besieging their foul strongholds.
For in the days of darkness when hope has failed all,
And dread lords stand tall and pool their might
To spoil the land with filth and decay,
So will stand bastions of valor who defend the helpless,
And maintain unflagging morals in the face of wrath and despair.