Long Being Poems
Long Being Poems. Below are the most popular long Being by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Being poems by poem length and keyword.
Denmark’s war
When the Germans occupied Denmark during World War 2 the old king was not dethroned
Every morning, he was seen riding in the park
Once, when his horse was spooked, by two German soldiers. he fell off his horse but got up
He dusted himself off, mounted his stead, rode on
The occupier thought his presence was good for morale, keeping the people passive
It was difficult to be a resistant fighter there was no place to hide after all Denmark is nothing more than a gigantic sandbank
The story of the king could have been written
by Hans Christian Andersen his work has been translated into my languages
We must not forget the physicist Niels Bohr who contributed to the understanding of nuclear power
There are many more names but this is not a list of great achievements
Denmark survived the war by not being overly aggressive making the enemy feel at ease
The farmers farmed, and fishermen fished so much that when peace, came they could help
Norway who faced starvation
Why can't my mind be a blank space
Be empty of all the self-hate.
Why can't my brain just not care
When I'm treated worse for wear.
All feelings do are drag you down
A rabbit hole of anger and harm
I just want to feel numb to it all
And try not to care any more.
'Why are you sad?' They ask
'Just cheer up,' they say
Wow as if I haven't tried that anyway.
As if I am not trying to be sane
When I'm down and feel depressed
It's my emotions I'm forced to repress
It's my feelings I try to hide
To avoid being called selfish for feeling almost dead inside.
I can't even tell anyone
About how I feel or I'll be left undone
So to avoid that I force myself to hide,
Hide how I feel, blank space blank mind
Being filled by the spirit of God
brings a love for those who oppose
as Christ had compassion for such
perfect love Jesus explicitly shows
To communicate with God on high
the way is opened by the avenue of prayer
this indeed is the Christians vital breath
on our knees before our Lord to share
This shows you're a child of God
one so loved by your heavenly father
bidding you to come and be saved
under His care together you will gather
According to the Lord's providential grace
causing His sun and rain being His creation
to fall on all peoples of the earth
real beauty is seen for every occasion
In this scripture, Jesus spoke with authority
when conveying the sermon on the mount
To be children of your heavenly Father
believing in Jesus having no doubt
("But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust.) Matthew 5: 44-45
this man, that man, thee man
my father stood salient before my eyes
and like Louis over Schmeling or Ali over Liston
without cheer from onlookers
who bet everything on the challenger
the cool, cool silence of anger was deafening
still, I knew love when it shined
and on this day love melted past the horizon
leaving me to wonder in sullenness–why
the participants whom I thought were just like me
in love with everything, in hate with nothing–froze
as if this were the end
this woman, that woman, thee woman
my mother lies on the floor
legs askew, arms likewise
her gaze blank, her mouth ajar
crimson flowing free from her being
and like Schmeling under Louis
or Liston under Ali she lay
victory a mere misnomer
this man, that man, thee man
I stand before my son’s eyes
and like Louis over Schmeling
or Ali over Liston I hover–my wife
the mirror image
of my mother
In the shadowed corridors of the mind, where echoes of forgotten dreams persist,
People dance through life, weaving patterns of absurdity to avoid the abyss within,
Avoiding the cold mirror of the soul, where truth waits, silent and unyielding,
For it is not in imagining figures of light that we find our true selves,
But in the brave embrace of darkness, where consciousness awakens.
The night is a canvas, vast and endless, where the whispers of the soul take form,
Each star a memory, each shadow a fear, painting the landscape of our inner world,
And yet, we flee from this sacred place, seeking refuge in the mundane and absurd,
Building castles in the air, fragile and ephemeral, to escape the depths of our being.
In the heart of this darkness, where the secrets of the soul lie hidden,
Lies a beauty untouched by the light of day, a mystic truth waiting to be known,
Here, in the silent embrace of the night, enlightenment begins,
Not in the radiance of imagined figures, but in the conscious awakening to our own shadows.
As we wander through the labyrinth of existence, the soul whispers its ancient song,
A melody of longing, of forgotten truths, of the sacred dance between light and dark,
And in this dance, we find the essence of our being, the pulse of the cosmos within us,
For it is in making the darkness conscious that we become whole, that we become true.
The journey is not one of light alone, but of the interplay of shadows and stars,
Of facing the absurdity of our fears and the beauty of our wounds,
In this twilight realm, where the soul's night meets the dawn of understanding,
We find the magic, the melancholy, the mystic truth of our existence.
In the depths of the soul's night, where the conscious and unconscious intertwine,
We become the alchemists of our own being, transforming darkness into light,
For in this sacred space, in the embrace of our own shadows,
We find enlightenment, we find the true magic of life.
My final time with God
Happened a year latter
I was staying down in Goa
With my wife
Enjoying being with her
After our reconciliation
We stayed at the Taj Mahal Goa
Living like Kings and Queen
Just for a few days
High up on a hill
Overlooking the beach
Every morning I went down to the beach
And did yoga by the water
While contemplating life
And every morning
I saw the same dog
Not just a dog
But a cosmic dog
Filled with the divine spark of God
And the dog recognized me
And spoke to me and I knew
That God was present once more
In the face of the that cosmic dog
Kindred spirit
perhaps to the cosmic cat
that had save my soul
in Berkeley so long ago
I told the dog everything
And he just looked at me
With those soulful eyes of his
And I knew he knew that I knew
That he was possessed by God
God had sent him to me
To make sure that I was on the right path
That the reconciliation that God had promoted
Was on track that I was back with my wife
And that everything was the way it should be
Again I asked God whether he was Jesus or Allah
Or Brahmin or Ganesh or Buddha
God the cosmic dog just stared at me
I finally asked him directly
Say if you are God the God of Jesus
Bark once
The Dog looked at me and barked
I said well if you are Allah bark twice
The dog barked twice
Well are you buddha then bark three times if yes
The god dog barked three times
Hmm well are you Satan
The dog growled at me
And I knew I had gone too far
Finally I was at peace
And for the next three days
The God Dog was my constant companion
And I knew God for the final time
In my life
Take your fill of my time
Does it thrill you?
Do I play every right chord in you,
Or do I dethrone your frustrations
Into raw rage?
Take your fill of my time
Does it pleasure you?
Have I breastfed your ego
With my warm, mindful nip?
I can hear my efforts drip, drip, drip
Take your fill of my time
Will it please you?
Or will it rot and dissuade you?
I feel you disengage,
Until it is I in that raw, raw rage
Take your fill of my time
Will it fail you?
The drips turn into spurts
Till it is my tears you feed on
And it hurts…
Take your fill of my time
Will I miss you?
When I have nothing left to give you
When I turn the other way
And you disregard the sweet, sweet sway
You and I will hear the drips no more
The rage will empty into the desolation
That truth can only replenish
I must unfasten myself from your tirade
To find a rant of my own, and a way
Will I regret every second of my efforts?
Can I dare breathe without my soul being drained?
Will you never learn
That all that I have lost from you
Cannot the same be gained?
So take your last sip of my time
Will it redeem my worth?
Shall I bite again into the joy I seek?
Or shall I dwindle away
Into solitude’s deep?
One slow motion jagged tear
found me after you left me here.
Its wetness still sits upon my face
as I stare at absolutely no place.
What I do live and what I dream
and all sundries fitting in between,
now struggle in a frenzied dance
passing thru, in and out, this circumstance.
My brain is mush circling a clueless groove.
Surely, I need an enlightened next move.
Calm failed to enter when you shut the door,
and life as I knew it quit being anymore.
I simply cannot find my identity.
Maybe it left with you and my clarity.
I seek to ease a primal urge to shout
at frenzied thoughts dashing about.
Perhaps I knew years had grown weeds
while I prayed for fertilized love seeds.
Perhaps I knew time long held this bleed
while I prayed true love would succeed.
Pissed off and tired, I’m not paid enough
for twenty hour days and all of this stuff.
The phone starts at seven when things have gone wrong
at three in the morning still singing their song.
Planning, correcting, resolving all things
that being in charge of our engineers brings.
Not I don’t like it, there’s no doubt I do,
it’s just I get tired when working right through.
I’ve made a few changes to soften the load
of the people whose workload I keep in my fold.
It’s early days yet and I hope I can see
the way to make changes that benefit me.
My boss is my conscience, my vision my drive,
the way I move forward, the reason I strive
is to find better ways within our Company
to help people have fun when they’re working for me.
Now money’s the God that rules Company law,
with profit the deity held up in awe.
I have to bow down to their idol I know
but there’s differing ways our devotion to show.
You can sacrifice workers, then sell your own soul
to the devil who claims all of the gold
or promise him fortunes with far more to gain
if we help all the staff to live absent from pain.
Convincing directors that following me
will help feed their need for more money to see
is an art I have mastered with skill in my years
while helping employees shed some of their fears.
Although I’m successful in feeding their greed,
the thing I am glad of is that I succeed
in making folks lives a bit better than when
they were virtual slaves to their master's pure whim.
But alas I have not reached the point where I may
reduce all the hours that I work every day.
Now this I must make my own personal goal
so I too can have fun and some time for my soul.
Ivor G Davies
Unopposed Oxymoron
This poem is light as a heavy contradicting complement
and rhymes with no correspondence of sound sharp at
the cutting horizon’s edge of melting confusing fission
Serious like a foolish jester and in trivial necessity it wants
to be chimed in disagreement discordant harmony figure
of speech silent shapeless tallies and out into central periphery
Traditional post-modern as an anchor less mooring unbound
a planar linear Oxo cube for poetry soups soaps speechless
rhetoric it says nothing’s everything all for refutation and proof
Cut as a half witted razor blade dull as laser bred dull diamond
the oxymoron in proximal distance joins divisions idiotic
intelligence bland precision in amorphous diffused clarity
I am nothing but and everything as I know to know nothing
where healthy insanity and clear normal madness when
condensed reflection and prismatic diffusion meets parting
My initial final backfiring telos in idle lazy effort’s endeavour in
rhyme and in lightness dissonant un-melodic featherless burden
is that being at different places in different times in the same
space and same moment is not an oxymoron but debatable truth
Written on 27th August in Johannesburg dateless timeless
and nowhere with a blank mind and mindful disregard