Long Blue sky Poems
Long Blue sky Poems. Below are the most popular long Blue sky by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blue sky poems by poem length and keyword.
Through her window,she could see nothing in the clear blue sky.
Its deep colour was reflected in the calm waters
Of the estuary which spread out in the distance.
Even the normal busy shipping traffic
Seemed to have been lulled to sleep this hot summer afternoon.
There would usually be the sound of ships' horns
Out in the Elbe as they signalled for the lock gates to open.
Water was calm, sky was calm.
It felt to Petra that she was looking at a painting where nothing
Was really alive but only replicated in oilpaint.
The ever-growing buzz in the sky was the only indication that the scene was real.
Others had heard the sound as well.
Like hundreds of bees, but these had a special sting
The temperature was high and it was very dry
There had been no rain for some time. Now there was a rain of bombs.
Petra saw the explosions through her window before she heard them
In the distance as the skyful of B17 s unloaded their cargoes.
Petra and her little sister were terrified, struck immobile in fright.
Their window bellied in like a giant glass balloon suddenly over-inflated,
And jagged, face-ripping shards of glass snarled across the hall
And embedded themselves in the cushions of the sofa.
The woolly innards of the cushions spewed out,
Dangling lifeless from the slash-wounds.
Luckily the girls were not cut.
Suddenly, the whole area became one big fire
With air being sucked in with the force of a storm.
Fires joined together, temperatures rose to melting lead,
Wind speed picked up to hurricane levels,
Trees were hurled into the flames, furniture, cars, even people hurled in.
Fire trucks unable to get through roads blocked by rubble.
Dying by carbon monoxide poisoning
When all the air was drawn out of their basement shelters,
The shelters were filled, but few people were really alive.
And then it was over. As the exploding fireballs gradually died away,
The drone and throb of the buzzing B17s faded off
To the blue sky of the east, to torment some other part of the city.
Walls crashed to the ground, gas lines exploded, people cried and screamed,
The girls shook with terror, but the B17s had gone.
History called it 28 July 1943 - Hamburg firestorm.
Petra always called it Day of the Bees.
.. .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Debbie Guzzi's Contest Hot Time Summer in the City
We wanted to make a heavenly cake
But needed angelic ingredients
That were as far out of reach as can be
So we thought of other expedients
Like the famed store of unusual foods
Though it wasn’t around the corner
But then a melancholy light hit me
That we should seek a recent mourner
Who is akin to a newly deceased
Thus privy to a loved one in heaven
So I gently approached my grandfather
Hoping to make a mindful impression
I asked if he thought he could contact
The soul of my loving grandmother
To impart a glimpse of what they cook there
But he said that I should ask another
Making a heavenly cake like we planned
Was more trying than it first appeared
We needed to find some other way
Some way that may be more or less weird
I bravely entered a graveyard one night
With a shuddery moon full and blue
Hoping a spirit would come to my aid
With some heavenly food to pick through
But the creaking only got creepier
As each hour of that night crept by
And though frightened I got sleepier
With no ingredients to descry
Next day I dove deep in the library
About divine dishes present and passed
But couldn’t find one book apropos
So I went to the front desk and asked
The curator ventured to the attic
Where she recalled a very rare book
Aptly titled Eatin’ in Eden
With recipes for a heavenly cook
And on page one hundred fifty two
A recipe for heavenly cake
That purported the impossible
A trip to heaven to undertake
Yet most ways seemed too obnoxious
Even simply holding one’s breath
Which no matter how long it’s tried for
Is never enough for courting death
And if one died and went to heaven
How could they ever make the return
Back to earth to bake a divine cake
There was still much to this cake to learn
We flipped through every page of that book
To decipher somehow or some way
When we wondrously divined that the why
Was not where, but was plain as the day
The cake base is like a rich chocolate
Vastly deep as a moonless night sky
And while fudgy is light and airy
Certainly heavenly certified
Plus shrouded with fluffy cloud frosting
Of downy whiteness from pleasant dreams
That is also sweet as the sunshine
And piped with fresh rainbow hued creams
The cosmos cooks up celestial things
From the blue sky to heavenly cake
So after all that worry and work
It was in essence a breeze to make
"Bat Crazy 5"
Some say
she was batsh** crazy
life hits the windscreens
in the labyrinth of life
that way
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
an upwards inflection, “You know”,
in the Queen’s Land, "all under control"
the open palm under the shaft
moving all the way up to 5,
reflecting on the mirror rearview
she watches the eyes
of her child
dreaming of open highways
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
never once moving from 5
the left all the way up to targa 5
right hand up on the wheel
left hand down right up to 5
windows spitting emeralds
like a baphomet
the two finger salute
the other above so below
watches on
"here we go again",
the 1 above it all
watches on
as above so below
that 1's long-suffering
that way, aghast, but resolute,
that 1 has never-ending reserves
of eternal patience
and watches on
perplexed
her mind geared on
how to kill off
a spider
and his sister, next
changing lanes
easier said than done
when you're hell-bent on
Freedom
the highway sign
Happy New Year
flashes ever onwards by,
foot to the floor
left brain baffled
at forgiveness
at Christmas
long gone by
right hand on the wheel
left hand down
open palmed
shifting gears
accelerating increduality
towards the accuracy
in the justice of karma
drivers sitting on both shoulders
inside the vehicle
holding the wheel
the internal speaks
to the universe
listening
for kindness
and answers
on a lost highway
Blue Sky
nods, as if in agreement,
that 1's always amused -
but never confused, that way
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“Is it possible to switch dimensions?
There is currently no conceivable way to get to these if they exist, and they may only be possible, not actual. To travel between realities, they need to be in proximity. To be in proximity and not interact, they need to be incompatible. If it is a compatible universe you could travel to, it is already here.”
"Won’t you let me know,
if you made it home that night
Oh won’t you let me know
If our bones made it home alright..."
Glowing days that were once red-cheeked and ripe with promise,
Are narrowing like tall candles in a church window,
Tapering from the golden stand and the sturdy base,
To the glorious flame and the ever fading light.
The final birth of dreams that was once distant and cold,
Is now close, closer, ever closer.
The imminent darkened clouds of doubt, that haunt the wise,
Are now gathering close to form a ghostly shadow,
That will create a vast tempest, in a quiet place,
And a mighty torrent that will quench the firelight.
Unyielding waves of fear that are rising in the old,
Are now near, nearer, ever nearer.
To have once coveted the blue from the autumn sky,
Embraced the fallen leaves of a giant maple tree,
To have jumped into water without wondering why,
Leaped joyfully in the warm sand near the emerald sea.
Having playfully chased off the petulant sea gulls,
Broken twigs to build a fire against night’s attack,
Held tight in your strong hands the soft feathers of eagles,
And kissed a beautiful girl on the nape of the neck.
To have laughed at the tetchy clock ticking in the hall,
And smoked each distressing regret like a cigarette,
Knowing it would certainly give cancer of the soul,
The narrowing compels the pining heart to forget.
When forced to consent to the lessening of a day,
And to accept the waning of a moonlit heaven,
To wonder if the path taken was the only way,
Is to live in mortal fear inside a peaceful den.
To be ordered to find gratitude in the calming,
And to find a moments peace in the resignation,
Is not the purpose of the dancing and singing,
This game is but a trial of the imagination,
God has left the beautiful forest unattended,
There is no lesson, design or celestial rule,
To search for meaning is to invite eternal dread,
It takes a saddened, embittered mind to be that cruel.
An elegance can be found in the narrowing,
As memories line together like a pearl necklace,
And clouded moments vanish and amount to nothing,
And all are gently buried with red velvet and lace.
Love the narrowing, set in a purposeless blue sky,
Not because winter nights have become less frightening,
Or the smoldering summer days have now lost their sting,
But as there is no truth in the trumpet or the drum,
It is just a walk among the flowers of freedom.
And a laughing stroll through the narrowing of wisdom.
"Horus in Paradise"
In dreams
I met you in Paradise
I called you
Blue Sky
You were an
Angel in disguise
Horus, White Light
feathers of fire
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
“Ten Miles High” / Roison Murphy
https://youtu.be/2B8fxZoa7w0
"It mav have been a Million years ago
The Light was kindled in the Old Dark Land
Within which the illumined Scrolls are all aglow,
That Egypt gave us with her mummified hand :
This was the secret of that subtle smile
Inscrutable upon the Sphinx's face,
Now told from sea to sea, from isle to isle ;
The revelation of the Old Dark Race ;
Theirs was the wisdom of the Bee and Bird,
Ant, Tortoise, Beaver, working human-wise ;
The ancient darkness spake with Egypt's Word ;
Hers was the primal message of the skies:
The Heavens are telling nightly of her glory,
And for all time Earth echoes her great story.
“There are more things in heaven and earth,
Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“If we shadows have offended,
think but this and all is mended,
that you have but slumber’d here,
while these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
no more yielding but a dream.”
1. Horus
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horus
2. Ancient Egypt The light of the World (Vol II)
https://www.academia.edu/36994959/ANCIENT_EGYPT_THE_LIGHT_OF_THE_WORLD_A_Work_of_Reclamation_and_Restitution_in_Twelve_Books_VOL._II
(a) Egyptian Wisdom in the Revelation of John the Divine (Page 690)
(b) The Jesus-Legend Traced in Egypt for Ten Thousand Years (Page 727 – 890)
3. Ancient Egypt The Light of the World (Vol I – II)
https://www.academia.edu/40950279/Gerald_Massey._Ancient_Egypt_-_Vols1-2
4. The Parallels Between Jesus and Horus
https://hubpages.com/religion-philosophy/forum/42035/the-parallels-between-jesus-and-horus-
5. Jesus
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jesus
6. Ennead
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ennead
7. Isis; Nephthys; Hathor
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isis
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nephthys
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hathor
Artwork / George Redhawk (legally blind)
https://mymodernmet.com/george-redhawk-gifs/
But the lover he knew this would not be enough
In such games as romance the going will get rough
And his youth had not abandoned him yet
Such failures monumental he would not so soon forget
And all had been less than this goddess on earth
No other had touched his heart so since birth
So amidst the glorious dreams of love in spring
The icy chill of doubt began to take its wing
The mirror told truths he’d never liked to hear
When faced with himself he’d rather disappear
Than bear witness to what he saw as a goon
A common ugly brute, spawned from a cartoon
With his disproportioned limbs and pessimistic hunch
Never had Ryan stood out from the bunch
His muscles had weakened from ailments past
And his metabolism sadly had deserted him too fast
His green eyes burned fiercely for his love had not gone
And sleep seldom reached him until long after dawn
Ruminating at length on the woman he desired
Wrecked his body and wracked his mind so tired
Could she ever love one as common as I?
He asked many times neath the midnight blue sky
His answer proved negative on most mornings young
And the tears had scarcely left him when the first sparrow sung
At last, the abused and depressed young pup
Decided he would go out on the town and drink up
Pounding beers with no regard for the consequences thus
Leaving him to stagger, cry, and flirt and cuss
And as sudden as the sun blooming on the skyline
The lovely Lyla was there, alone and looking quite fine
In an instant all sorrow was cleansed from his mind
And convinced him once more no greater love would he find
On that evening with conscious sobered by passion
My old friend took to speaking in a serious fashion
Only I was there to listen to his marvelous speech
Of the intensity he possessed, I know I cannot teach
With a storm gently rolling on a westward winter wind
The dark haired young man, chilled and quite pale skinned
Turned to me slowly with the look in his eye
That told I would recall this moment till I die
“Tonight,” he began, “I have chosen to wait
For this woman I love until some later date
And I shall stay to this, if months or years may pass
If that is the price of being worthy of the lass
If I must stand by and watch others lay
By her drunken side, while I have no say
And hundreds will flirt and many win a kiss
So I will remain in a life without bliss
He watched his kite,her, snap
her tail rises
in the sky
in the deep blue sky
i keep imagining of her
my eyes don't rest and lie,
my mind's eye,
of her with a bird in hand,
the one she waved off …
that i dont imagine
i keep watching her tail
so majestic
and buoyant
... as if she were dancing,
dancing
with herself,
in the deep blue sky,
her carriage
model perfect
of blemishes
with the sun shining
off her inner beauty,
she would flutter
... flutter
to the right and left,
bounce, bounce
up and down
as i continue watching,
watching ...heartbroken
for the last time,
Of life passing by,
Her,
my eyes moisten
as she distances herself
away from me
the burdens of my life
Heartaches, heartaches that
always kept suppressed in me
i say, i wish i could have stopped her flight
and see her come alive
with me,
... me with
one fleeting chance
a chance
of a snowball of goodness for once
but hoping realistically
for just that one snowflake of a chance
one little snowflake that never dropped
... i keep watching
the once beautiful kite
so lifelike, vibrant
especially her tail and direction
up in the blue sky,
a small dot now
... sucking the air out of me
as it became smaller
• i reminiscence
of the past of how our love nosedived
into an avalanche
before it started
... nosediving into sorrow and regrets
the residual of a piece of string not tying
not tying a loop...
i keep looking up into the sky
my mind oscillating, correlating
i see, clearly
her inner beauty capturing me
even from a distance
and now how ... i'm resigned to watching
so sadden
life unravel,
how can this be
or is that the line ... unraveling
again, how can this be
... the kite kept
distancing itself
fluttering itself ...
further away ...
just like myself
... the wind howling
its sharp teeth of injustice, life
grabbing me
i guess
i guess i was bad, unworthy
For her
for i hear ...
voices in my head
the once little birds in her hand crying,
crying
for not finding warmth
i hear a snap
is that for real?
i look,
in the deep blue sky
turning over, turning shades of red
she's gone
and the voice of cruelty just laughing
just laughing at me
for there is an absence, now
of that little tail fluttering
with goodness,
with unattainable borders
that i missed and missed
connie pachecho
3/3/17
I stand on the highway of hope getting ready for the train to go on a trip to the mountain sphere, the passengers are pouring in, the seats are filling up, and everyone is in a mad rush. What on earth is going on? The passengers have been here before the break of dawn and excitement is all over the lawn. The cities and towns are flooded with lights and everyone has made an early sacrifice, smiles and laughter are everywhere and the people have nothing to fear. The highway of hope is taking me to the show, you can get an all-inclusive ticket wherever you go; you have a ticket for the train ride, the theatre, restaurant, cinema, the football games or just to go jogging up the lane. You have tickets to go shopping or to work out at the gym; there is a bus and a train for everything and there is one reserved only for music, singing and dancing. You can ride the bus or train any time of the day and your mornings and evening will never waste away, every ticket you buy will contribute to the blue sky and your donations will not die. Meet me at the highway of hope and I will show you where to go, the mood has change and joy is spreading everywhere. If you have nothing to do, put some snack in a bag and join the picnic train, and view all the terrain. The goal is to make a million in an hour and leave the sorrows in the showers. You will have something formidable to look forward to at the end of the day and your burdens and stress will surely roll away. Come with me to the highway of hope and join, the campaign fundraising train .Every ticket you buy will raise my ambition; every train you ride will elevate you to the sky, the numbers are growing and the passengers are swelling and my life has just begun. I have five-dollar tickets, ten-dollar ticket, a thousand- dollar tickets and any money tickets. There is a bus and train for every price and someone to show you how to roll the dice. If you don’t want to ride the train, the bus will do the same; a hundred bus and a hundred train is parked up on the highway of hope in every state so buy your tickets and join the masquerade. The goal is to make a hundred and fifty million dollars a day in the all inclusive bus and train ride on the highway of hope in all the fifty states so join the fundraising effort before it's too late.
Meet me on the highway of hope anytime of the day and don't delay.
I'm here to take the lower approach
To what I was ordained to coach.
I'm no Preacher,
But He did put me here to teach you.
I'm not inveighing;
I'm just saying
That the only way through life is by praying.
Everyone seems to want to be a sinful conformer,
While the depths of hell get fuller and warmer.
Death and time, still succeeding the former.
See I'm a Poet
And as a person who does believe,
I perceive what others have forgotten to see.
Prosecuted not by we,
But by the persons my ancestors plotted to be.
And now I find myself trying
To figure out why you'll think I'm lying
When I reveal that what is born today,
Tomorrow will be dying.
I've seen many "joyous" christians
Everyday on thier knees crying.
Repentant of the sins Flesh had them denying.
Unwilling to make the bed
They chose to lie in.
Well predict your life on what your perceptions have been prying.
Forgetful of the One who can take
The dreariest,
Weariest,
Rainy, that drains me
Weather
And turn it into something
Sunny,
Bright,
And lovely
To make things better.
Kinda like unchanging youth
Resting on the skin like morning dew.
Now don't prosecute me for my truthful depiction.
Grinning at me with an afflicted conviction.
I'm just tryna pull you in my direction
And get you ready for the next resurrection.
Cause there will be one
Right under the blue sky:
The return of the Son!
And I can't wait.
Fate...is what Faith...is real
That crucifix around ya neck,
That's not the real deal.
It might be real steel,
But it didn't bless you with that real good meal
You ate last night.
Look at it like this:
People subdue to materialism
Thru a metaphysical way of
Praising Him.
But a faithful Christian gets blessed
Despite of "we," "she," "her," and "them"
Because in His word, He stressed:
"Blessed is the man that walks not in
the cousel of the ungodly, nor stands in
the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of
the scornful; but his delight is in the law of the Lord"
And that is blessed.
Read the book of Psalms if you need to hear the rest.
I'm not disdaining any reproach,
Like I warned you before,
I'm only here to coach
With the soul purpose to reproach,
Your processes with the lessons
And confessions
My Father had laid upon me
With CAREFUL discretion.
So to you from me:
Be Blessed, Be Faithful, and Be Ready
Broken...shattered...and scattered...these are the pieces to my life. A puzzle with no picture to look back on. Fragments of memories that form a story...A story that has long ended...As I lay on what is to be my bed I stare at the ceiling, and can only imagine what will come next. I try to close my eyes for a moment of peace, but my head is like a jackhammer on the streets of New York City...So much NOISE! WILL IT EVER END?! I'm sorry...I did not mean to blow up like that...Sometimes I wonder if I am the hero...or I am the villian. Do I make people smile, or do I make people frown? Although Robin Hood was both villian and hero, but Robin Hood was doing a bad thing for a right reason. Agh! Why am I cursed to be so numb! I can only feel the hatred I have for myself! Curse the people who created this monster...I have hurt so many, but I am the one who is hurt most. I apologize again...I am rambling nonsense. I just hate how everyday it is the same thing. The same people, the same school, the same job, and when you move on...It is the same. Same people new faces. The world is a boring place....If I was to "live life to the fullest" sooner or later life to the fullest will also become boring. Now that is saying I survive all that I do. In a way the world is also broken. The world is divided...Race...Gender...Politics...Religion. Always fighting for something... As I lay on my bed, and look through the window to see the blue sky, and cotton candy clouds I can't even raise a smile. I raise my hand up to reach for the sky, but I pull back. The world is never going to change...You are the one who has to change. You have to be the one to complete the puzzle. You can be the one to overcome all of the obstacles in your path. You are the one to glue the broken pieces, but once you have fallen into the dark pit of depression it's hard to get out. It is a fighting stuggle just to climb up...If you are alone...the fight is more like a war. Not only do you lose the will to fight, but also your sanity. It amazes me how I have not completely lost my mind. Although as the time progresses...I fear the worst for my humanity...I have tried fighting for so long...I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE! WHO EVEN AM I ANYMORE? THE SOUND OF THE DRUMS BEATS HEAVY IN MY HEAD! I CAN NOT STAND THIS PAIN ANYMORE! I AM NOT A TOY YOU CAN FIX! I am broken...shattered....and scattered...