Long Blanch Poems
Long Blanch Poems. Below are the most popular long Blanch by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blanch poems by poem length and keyword.
Point of View or Truth?
What is your view of politics? I'm sad, but dream there's more,
though politics says rhythm's plague, rhyme's rotten to the core,
and hope seems lost that world's worth spit! Can Right say Left is wrong?
Though snowflakes have their differences, what's True sings Nature's song.
Weak fashions trend and folks mature, but Truth ignores demand!
Truth's face may blanch (cracked shells line beach), but history's the sand
whose grains on earth outnumber stars in Milky Way's facade,
and ocean waves (1) grind finer still (while politics claims God).
Yes, Truth exists beyond the pale of what we dream is true,
its harmonies acknowledge God in all we say and do.
Do fascist friendly risk Hell's Fire who label Truth fake news,
conspire to earn more pain on earth, in civil court venues?
Krakatoa Kritic #007
March 16, 2021
I have so many friends these days who want to believe that all Truth is simply one's point of view, especially political Truth, that what they want to think is as good as what anyone else thinks. So, to engage in debate is foolish! They also suggest that those who disagree with them are only attached to being right (and making them wrong)! That could be right, but what if their beliefs are flawed? How should one who hopes for Grace behave? Let me have the courage to confront a friend's perceived weakness with as much love as I can muster.
(1) "I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of Truth lay all undiscovered before me."
Isaac Newton (1642-1727)
Back to back we stand staring into the future.
The moon loves us for it is dead-eyed and alone.
Long or brief all days dwindle, while nights row us back
over that vast seas we arrived from.
Faces blur, after-mages blanch,
we both recall the same lovers -
for are we not all ‘I’?
‘You’ and ‘your’ a mere pretense of duality.
Lovers filled our own footprints,
yours came to you weeping, mine left sobbing,
our tears are formed in the same deep wells
of hope and regret.
You are seeking an horizon perhaps;
for a while you see a shadow-man
slipping underneath a sunset.
Don't follow, don't go that way,
tomorrow, if it dawns for you,
will be the gift only you can give
to I.
Man Sang" Lonely is a Man Without Love"
Tuba and french horn say...
Whump, whump, whumpah-lumpah, whump, whump!
---Engelbert Schmid-------------------------------------------
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If we were ten orders smaller we'd be the same size as atoms
One hundred trillion or so making us head to toe
If we were ten orders larger we'd be the size of a star
Then they wouldn't be so far away, and we'd go
Psychologists say we are poor weighing scale
But if we were the same size as stars could we see
How our size relates to worm, sperm, and whale?
Some small things matter... some just think they do
But think for a moment of a star-sized brain
Would intellect matter, would reason still reign?
Go the other direction, would love disappear
In a world governed only by life without tear?
If eyes don't tear science says they will freeze
If salt couldn't dissolve would love, also fear?
Life in a quantum world might have less stress
But gravitational realm leaves this beautiful mess
At least what some can see here as beauty
With an eye the size of those we now use
To see all we see and assess from the clues
That we use as the tools to assess all we see
Anthropologists tell us that our use of tools
Is one thing that separates us from the beasts
But then we observe some both great and small
Using things to do things making us look like fools
Pachyderms, monkeys, dolphins, and crows
All behave in a way that looks like they know
How to utilize what is apparent to them
And all have what we see as brains on a stem
But the cocoanut octopus has no such branch
Born with no shell it can find what it likes
To hide when it needs to and leave when it hikes
Jets to jettison, brilliant to blanch
Yet none of these question, make science, or art
So we see them as somehow somewhat inferior
Which allows us to see ourselves as superior
All the while watching our world fall apart
Is it because our metrics have become so small
That we measure our treasure in what we build tall
Instead of expanding our minds from within
Which leaves us without the right place to begin
Dread, dream of tomorrow.
O Death, shadow the move.
Sin, thy light! Blanch to borrow!
Sorrow, what to prove?
Weathervane, by lightning struck.
Are you out of luck?
Antlers, justify the buck!
Night, wind, run amok...
Anger, boil within my veins!
Justice, I invoke!
O ye prisoners, break thy chains!
Egg, devour thy yolk!
Torn open, O resting place?
Sounds like a disgrace!
Poison, best to speed thy pace!
Cone, caldera, case...
Autumnal the colored leaves.
Red run roll reprieves.
Corn stalk, indigo, thy sheaves.
He who fights believes.
Gifts of gold and silver?
O riches, where to find?
Ask the huntress! Fill? Fur.
Somewhere the sun shined...
Dark fire, bloom and blossom!
O belladonna, brain!
Pain within us, play possum!
Downward, my disdain...
Winter's chill lingers still
Frigid ground remains barren till
Longing for sun's beams to spill
Break then blanch the icy seal
Fuel, burgeoning life to distill
Thawing channels for flora to fill
Defrosted mounds for birds to drill
Opening porous seams for cisterns to lap and swill
Dew droplets and enfilading streams to rill
Warm cloak to fondle every blade; caress every accompanying frill
Incubate flowering dale and shroud towering hill
Ingratiating every fertile strand; energizing every fodder mill
Illuminate every vapid recess; accentuate every scenic still
Enlighten every fertile heart that under it's footstool doth kneel
“feeling not thinking, soul with love linking ~
we attained God consciousness unblinking”
I've been told that I wear my heart on my sleeve
that I try too hard to love others
that I open my heart up to pain because I try
and try again to help others and to love those
that some people consider unloveable
But my question for those that criticize me is
"Why don't you?"
How can you see all the pain around you and do
nothing? or turn your back to what you see each day?
How can you not reach out?
Homelessness, addiction, cancer, food insecurity,
inflation rising so fast that many people can not keep up,
healthcare costs so high that sometimes the choice
is care or food? How can I turn my back when
I have plenty, yet blanch at a $50 co-pay?
Love one another is a command that I hear often,
yet I don't see many people trying to do it
I do love others, and I try every day to show God's love
to those that feel unloved and when I find someone else trying,
I can feel our souls link and my heart sighs
Jack and Jill went up the hill
Not on a whim but petty frill
Jack led Jill to a corroded still
Jill thought the vat was an abandoned grill
Jack promised Jill a fresh thrill
Jack cooked up a brew to blanch her chill
Jack took a sip but Jill had her fill
Jack pledging fealty on one knee did kneel
Jill fearing that Jack was ill
Threw him prone on a nearby anthill
When the stings reached his hardened quill
Jack jumped up and let out a squeal
Jill dazed from her purse pulled a Viagra pill
Through Jack's clamped lips it's contents did drill
Now horny and burning, Jack rode Jill bareback down the hill
Helios, open darkened shutters Night did seal;
Nyx's opaque, drawn shades one by one peel.
With prehensile fingers grip your enlightened quill,
Selene's pale orb with luminescent lines reel.
With gilded parasol twirl your flaming wheel,
Until enjoined sparks into tinted rays congeal.
In saffron waves, blanch horizon's, window seal.
On spindled beam, spin golden threads from creel,
Sheaves of golden flax span o'er ethereal hill.
Branching, with sonic beam pearly plains drill,
Until azure streams deep reservoir does fill.
With torch, burnt-orange meringue on puffy clouds spill,
then into earth's grainy purview with vigor steal.
With tempera, egg wash the Sky's blank stencil,
then with magnified lens illumine the scenic still.
Plunging downward, into denser troughs truncated waves swill.
Onto earth's jade footstool, solemnly kneel,
Drawing from vassal's, residual til.
Amber blades with brighter finish instill,
With waxy gloss the folio cover frill.
Shivering sullen, silent all the time.
Suffering, wisdom, alone and sublime.
Where, O my oracle, shall I begin?
Blanch, light of Sin, nickel, cadmium, tin.
Hollow are hearts in the hill-towns, and why?
Dreams are a mystery passing us by!
Doom, thy coworker. O death, say a word.
Quartered by each third for flipping, old bird?
Tremendous temper-fount, volcanic fire!
Crater, thy rim is a pinnacled spire!
As for springtime, low are the levels and wet.
Red run regret, roundabout but well set...
Wily raccoon, the coyote, thy peer;
Sent us a message to grind in the gear.
O love, thy caresses have hope on the wing!
Solemnity, siren's song, arm in a sling.
Weathervane, point. Pain, agony, anoint.
Lightning, thy bolts do the dead man appoint.
Rare metal substances, deep in the ground?
Sound may surround what the looking-glass found.
Foundation, deep in the ocean's body?
Flickering firelight reflected by sea.
Young master, time will secure what you seek!
Poets and prophets through boneyards will creak...
Zenith below and white-capped with the snow.
Stern as a blow thrown by giants? Then go!
Dun desert air from all moisture set loose.
Forest, refuse what thy gods do not use.
Dithering dervishes, dole and duress.
Grim gambrel gangrel, gill, gauntlets to guess.
Heaven and Hell, have you seen me? Well, when?
Foxfire and frankincense burned on the fen...