Long Binds Poems
Long Binds Poems. Below are the most popular long Binds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Binds poems by poem length and keyword.
A Testament to My Loss
Beneath the scalpel's relentless song,
I faced a grief both deep and strong.
Two valleys crossed, two peaks laid bare,
My spirit trembled beneath despair.
A canvas blank, yet marked by pain,
Each scar a whisper, a loss ingrained.
The lines upon me tell their tale,
Of nights I wept, of times I failed.
The mirror shows a shadowed hue,
A broken image of someone new.
Not more, but less, my soul reduced,
A phoenix struggling, wings seduced.
In every shadow, darkness clings,
And every tear, the sorrow sings.
I made the choice to live, to be,
But sadness binds and silences me.
This weary heart with hollowed beat,
Still searches strength, though storms repeat.
Through loss, I crawl another way,
To find the dawn, though skies are gray.
For beauty hides, in what remains,
In fractured terrain and stubborn pains.
My double journey, my life undone,
A tapestry where battles spun.
Went for a walk outside my head.
The emptiness made me feel dead.
Changed my mind, went back instead.
Stayed inside and stayed in bed.
All that I have left to say.
Is I don't want to be this way.
Wondering 'bout wondering.
Why it is I'd want to stay.
Sometimes all some have to show.
Is knowing all that they do know.
The mirror of time shows every crack.
They want a break but get no slack.
The river winds, the tension binds.
It all goes out to sea.
The best that anyone can do.
Is ask if it is me.
A lonely road can't go both ways.
If you should turn around.
All that you would ever find.
Is what you never found.
The answer will not ever come.
Until you start to listen.
Then soon you'll see deep in your soul.
The message that you're missin'.
How we make family Through real love:Poem
What is the heart to do, When one falls in love with some one.
Can't say when or where , one falls in love with someone.
Every man builds his world in his own image. He has the power to choose, but no power to escape the necessity of choice.
The laws of the world didnot match with true love feelings of any person.
Like the way the clouds are stopped at a peak.
Like the waves crash at the coast.
That way a glance stops at some specific innocent beautiful face.
Beauty is not in the face.Beauty is a light in the heart.
Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes.
The laws of the world can't stop loving eyes even to see this special girl on dreams.
Come let me forget, everybody in your memory.
Remake the world in your image.
Would show you the insides of my heart if i could.
Your love runs through my blood, through my veins as your everlasting true love.
The power of love is undeniably true, can change anything and make two hearts as one.
The most important thing in the world is family and love.
Nothing is better than going home to family and eating good food and relaxing.
To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there.
In family life, love is the oil that eases friction, the cement that binds closer together, and the music that brings harmony.
Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family.
Having somewhere to go is home. Having someone to love is family. And having both is a blessing.
Being a family means you are a part of something very wonderful. It means you will love and be loved for the rest of your life.
By Miss Aliza Kashmala Kiran.
Is the ego a friend or foe?
The answer lies not in taking sides,
but in tracing the curve of its mystery.
It is the whisper that calls us to rise,
to create, to love,
to guard the tender spaces of the heart.
Yet it also shadows us—
with fear,
with comparison,
with the lonely ache of being separate.
Our task is not to silence it,
nor to let it claim the crown,
but to meet it as we would a restless friend:
listening, discerning,
guiding fire toward gentle light.
When it lifts, we soar with it;
when it binds, we breathe until it softens.
We learn humility as counterpoint,
empathy as compass,
and the dance becomes less of struggle
and more of grace.
In time, we see—
ego is neither friend nor foe,
but a companion on the road of becoming,
imperfect, transforming,
always traveling beside us.
The man in front of me is a broken one,
and my fingers are drowning in dripping glue,
in cement,
in something meant to hold things
To hold him
To hold myself and others together.
Yet he binds himself
with puppet strings, scotch tape,
and the wet breath of drugs.
Batting at my outstretched
Hands
Dodging the warmth of a true touch,
He flinches.
He bleeds- visibly
and he screams from a
starlight-lost, daydream-blinded face
that I am wrong.
He shoves daggers into my seams,
prying at my wounds.
Burning red and pulsing in purple bruise
Image of a warrior
turned blue.
while leaking he bursts open.
Pain seeping into my sobbing mouth
From his unstitched scars
So easy to tear.
He rips with his own hands
At the both of us
When he does not cover his ears and turn his back
To cradle in a seething silence
Clutching with razor blade hands
the child,
The pained,
Chained, caged pet he swallows with every breath as if I cannot
See the lump in his throat
Or feel the kicking in his chest.
But I am a mountain,
capped in the blood of a hundred storms,
and I will not cave.
Africa! Africa!!
One Mother, one heartbeat, one destiny!
Land kissed by the gods,
Womb that gave humanity its first cry!
You rise as one mighty pillar,
Your veins flowing with gold, diamonds, oil, and sacred fire.
From the Cape to Cairo, from Dakar to Djibouti,
Fifty-four nations stand as one family
One body, many beautiful limbs,
One voice rising stronger than any storm.
West, East, North, Central, South
All dance together under the same sun.
Nigeria’s thunder joins Kenya’s lion roar,
Egypt’s Nile flows into the Congo’s mighty heart,
Ghana’s gold shines beside South Africa’s rainbow,
Ethiopia’s ancient wisdom lights the path for all.
One Africa!
Where Yoruba drum meets Zulu spear,
Swahili binds what Arabic and Wolof bless,
Two thousand tongues singing one chorus:
We are the children of the same Mother!
Your people ebony, copper, bronze, and gold
Warriors and weavers, herders and scholars,
Women carrying the future on their backs,
Youth painting one bright tomorrow.
Resilient as the acacia across the savannah,
Wise as the baobab standing tall from Mali to Madagascar,
Hospitable as the ancestors who open every door.
No border can divide us,
No history can break us,
No challenge can defeat us
For we are One Africa United!
Mother of humanity,
Queen of the earth’s treasures,
Cradle, crown, and future of the world
Now and forever, ONE!
Let it be so! Let it be so!! Let it be so!!!
One Africa!
This chemistry that binds us initially.
This cruel joke made by nature’s evil scientist.
A variation on limerence.
It’s really unfair when human beings find someone they care for.
And in natures mean lab they get a shot of a chemical that’s unbearable.
It makes us feel love in a way that’s not right, it’s unfair.
That extraordinarily amazing feeling one gets.
Heads high on infatuation, sometimes unable to function.
How can one think or make important decisions?
With this strange substance coursing through us.
Yet we do. We marry or move in, maybe even have a baby.
Then sometimes…
The cruelest thing is, after a year or more, we wake up
Only to find the chemical is gone, its released us
Leaving us feeling confused, hurt, or in pieces.
This isn’t the one you showed me at first?
Why would you do this? This is the worst!
We’ve knitted an elaborate sweater
To cuddle and warm us.
To keep us from the cold and keep us together.
The yarn of our lives so elaborately intertwined.
If we don’t like this anymore now, how can we unwind this?
It’s so unfair. The lengths that we must go
To unknit this garment that is now so full.
Why would you do this Nature? Your so cruel!
When love wraps around you like a rain of falling stars,
The world melts into a story of liquid amber,
That gaze, a window to unseen infinities,
Where I become the shadow dancing on the edge of time.
The thorns, crystal spiders, weave the silk of an embrace,
The fire transforms into a rainbow of embers, living warmth,
A sanctuary in the chill of the night born from darkness,
There, I lose and recreate myself with every moment.
Passersby, waves of wind, call him mad, the one who smiles,
But he, a dreamer of the world, listens to a single whispered name,
Words floating like an echo of stellar longing,
A music of spheres entwined in eternal mystery.
Love, a golden butterfly, frees the soul from its cocoon,
Binds it in the beats of a heart, a blood-red moon,
Life becomes a symphony of pulsing comets,
In the rhythm of a sky dancing in spirals of dreams.
Standing at the world’s edge, asking the deep silence,
Is this madness or the beginning of a new galaxy of understanding?
In love’s tumult, I rediscover the shape of my destiny,
And the story flows like a river of light, without end.
Our Love is Ever Changing
To Barbara with love
on our 48th anniversary
By Franklin Price
11/21/2017
Our love is ever changing
Yet somehow stays the same
As on that night in '69
When you vowed and took my name
We'd both been through some tough times
Times that could have made us cold
Yet the knot we tied still binds us
Even as we're growing old
The years we've spent together
I would not change for anything
You're as lovely as you were that night
I placed the wedding ring
That never ending sign of love
Still remains upon your hand
God in Heaven told me
I should place that wedding band
I'm so thankful that I found you
And you share this life with me
That our ever changing love is real
Not some longed for fantasy
In the deep valleys of the spirit, where dreams boil in the overflowing cup of consciousness,
I wander aimlessly, seeking countless treasures not in gold, but in scattered words.
There is no money in poetry, only echoes of emotions woven through the fine threads of time,
Like an ephemeral butterfly, flying over the green fields of my soul.
Where minds open, we touch each other beyond materiality,
Through long verses and blind gazes, we hold hands in unheard universes.
Poems are blossoming oaks in the arid lands of our mercantilism,
Their roots deeply embedded, drawing from unseen springs of suffering and joy.
No one has ever been able to buy the sensation of the first kiss of dawn's light,
Or the melancholic cooling of dusk when stars weave light into darkness.
Words are the world's tear, priceless, falling on the square cheek of paper,
Poetry is the song of birds echoing from the hidden corners of our hearts.
In the desolation of cities of gold and silver, the sounds of bullion break the silence of hope,
But in the quiet of a dimly lit room, poems throb with un-lived life.
The poet is an alchemist of emotion, turning the lead of reality into the gold of imagination,
Not for gain, but for the liberation of the spirit from the prison of mundane daily life.
The feeling of love, worries lost among the night's shadows, worth more than kings' riches,
Each verse is a whispered talisman, kept in the depths of our silence;
There is no money in poetry, but there are infinite universes,
Where words dance freely, released from the venal prisons of the world.
In the stream of consciousness, I pour my heart into endless pages,
Old experiences and forgotten yearnings flow through my pen into a river of stars,
My poems are relics of a bygone time, yet forever alive,
What perishes, what remains, in the collective memory of the soul.
We do not earn gold from metaphors, nor silver from complex rhymes,
But in the magic of words, we find the true treasure that never fades.
Poetry is an ancient spell, an eternal song that binds us to eternity,
And even if there is no money in poetry, there is the immortality of fully lived meaning.