Long Boundaries Poems

Long Boundaries Poems. Below are the most popular long Boundaries by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boundaries poems by poem length and keyword.


21st Century Devil

How was I supposed to know,
When all I have ever known was love?
That bad doesn't only exist in the bible
And liars aren't just in stories from a long time ago.
Bad is also the nice guy from the bar that I took home.
Too focused on hell, too jaded to tell
That sex isn't evil, it's the people.
The ones with bad intentions,
The ones you never mentioned
The ones who tell people, me, what I want to hear,
Manipulating the boundaries that I had made abundantly clear.
And then I'm confused again by how I ended up here.
I gave trust until it was broken,
Followed by fake apologies to keep me hoping that they had changed.
I learned that the devil isn't horned and red,
He's the horny man who was in my bed;
The one who raped me after I'd been fed his lies.
Drunk on nothing but an illusion; devil in disguise,
In the details too.
Magick woven with intention to suspend belief
This is the devil of the 21st century.
© FJ Cartier  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member optimal object of meditation

the hermits gathered, exchanging notes
each had searched for the truth but had failed
so they conferred, sharing their heart’s emotes 
dismayed that the light within had now paled 

the first hermit’s meditation was earth
solidity we need to keep us grounded
control over matter, enhancing self-worth
yet by form bounded and by fears confounded

the second hermit mediated on water
subtler than earth, of that there is no doubt 
love stirs but feral lust remains a squatter
the path is seen but dark desires grout

the third hermit had meditated longer
the focus he maintained was fire’s power scent 
boons were bestowed, he became stronger 
yet deep in his heart, he was discontent

the fourth hermit’s prayer entwined him with air
the subtlest element, the source of life
seeds of love blossomed with aplomb and flair
but he was yet to be delivered, so sought a mid-wife

the fifth hermit’s object of contemplation was space 
containing in its infinite womb all existence
though he grew in wisdom, he saw not God’s face
between him and the creator, there was yet a distance

all hermits then decided to meet a sage said to be wise
they shared their struggles and sought his direction
on what to do that God they may here realise
establishing a permanent connection 

what follows are the words the exalted sage spoke
simply rest in silence as awareness self-aware
objects of meditation are conceptual fires we stoke
once we are empty, in-form polarities pair

rising along octaves of love we imbibe ineffable bliss
mind is instrumentalised, like any other limb
we dwell in time stretched peace where nothing is amiss
magnetic pulsations within sing to us a hymn

in timeless time, our ego-identity falls away
we then see our true Self outside of time and space
recognising we are living light we cease to sway
by our own hand thus, we invoke God’s grace

universality in individual action 
a void-centric awareness within which boundaries blur 
such a flowing orientation grants presence traction
God and we speak as one and with love concur
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sacred Revolutions

Language shapes perception

As noticing natural communications
without spiritual prejudice
nuances verbal expression,
articulation

And re-articulation,
even revolutionary sublimation,
more occasionally
win/win complex emergence
standing apart from win/lose chaos.

Past enculturation
filters historical experience
preferring predictable resonance,
conservation of unchanging paradigms,
preformed frames of reference,
over cognitive-affective dissonance,
nudging and nuancing revolutions,
emergent creolizing re-articulation,
transubstantiating elements,
positive energy,
subtle empowerment,
nuanced enlightenment,

Across double-binding boundaries
of secular conserving frames
and sacred 
liberally flowing 
paradigms.

My Existence Itself Is My Threat - Part 1

I dream of far shores where my name was meant to be carved.
I aspire to climb mountains where my flag was to be raised.
I imagine a distant land where a song calls me home.
So many ambitions—yet my existence is my greatest threat.
I was always ready for adventure,
Belonged to no land, no boundaries, no chains.
The repeated "I" meant this life was mine—
That was the plan.

Seasons passed, yet I remained bound.
Summer sweat soaked my cotton sleeves.
Monsoon rains slid off my full-length poncho.
Winter flakes brushed from my hooded jacket.
Spring winds played with my dress, yet I stood still.
I only wished to live—
Never to apologise for my existence.
But I was told: my existence was my biggest threat.

They warned me of monsters before I stepped outside.
Instead of guiding me, they taught me to wield a sword.
I longed for maps and compasses—to set sail on my own—
But was told I mustn’t go alone.
I asked only one thing: tell me the monster’s name.
Gasps echoed. Silence reigned.
They had always spoken of my protector,
Yet I had met him just the day before, promised at last my voyage.

He wasn’t mighty, nor wise—
Just another dreamer with uncertainty in his eyes.
Curious, I showed him my maps. Had he traveled before?
He laughed—"Life cannot be taught, only explored."
I asked him then, does he know the monster’s name?
He smiled, flicked my hair. "The seas we chart are foreign to such things."

(Continued in part 2)
© Pranali Vg  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Show Me God

we are here
God too then
must be near

joy and pain, oscillate
so let’s go in, within
in void of silence, wait
surrender paves the way
love beckons, we follow
bliss fills us, night and day

head and heart, with love in alignment 
essence of presence, attains balance
divine entwined, tranquil contentment 
attention softens, our soul glistens
our clear sight, Gods boundless love and light
He speaks as conscience and we listen
love enabled, when ego comes undone
boundaries blur, we be to become
luminescence of the central sun

01-July-2021

A 3-6-9 Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet

An eighteen line rhyming verse with the following rhyme scheme: (aba -  cdcefe  - ghgijiklk,) with a  syllable count of 333, 66666, 999999999
god
Form: Rhyme


-memoirs-

It’s late and dark,
In a place where the hands have lost sight of existence 
It’s a pause of panic. Butterflies are erupting elevating with frustration
I can see the thoughts float by as my heart is ticking
My body is gaining momentum but it’s anchored in my deep illusion of thought
I’ve now penetrated the inner layer of my mentality
A vivid production featuring a spectrum of genres
Act 1 scene 1: starring Anger, Jealousy and hatred
Anger is provoked by the jealousy
It has been cracked by the venom of jealousy and leaked the fragrant liquid of hatred
Venom of no antidote
They’re long lived rivals always keeping alert from their conspiracies.
And now its infected, but then comes the Sorcerer. 


Act 1 Scene 2:
Here Sorcerer begun the old rituals, started the fires of its wisdom in the thin air of 
A twinkling full moon,
The wolves’ howl and the crickets’ chirp
Melodies of love and harmony.
They soothe, motivate and make us dream,
A Dreamy mischievous night.
Your addictive body scent doesn’t abandon my nostrils.
I can smell it of my garments and feel it in my memories.
Reminisces nights of joy and love.
Where our lips have crossed the boundaries and united.
Rosy, soft lips that I can’t get enough of
The smile that can’t leave my mind, 
Thinking of you drags from hell 
Don’t know if it’s the touch of your lips, 
The feel of your skin,
Or satisfaction of lust
But its keeps me hanging waiting for the better tomorrow 

It’s my antidote for my inner demon,
My angel that creates my halo

Fog of War

Fog of War (Attrition)

        Had they forgotten nothing?
        Or perhaps remember too much.
        Amidst the air-raid siren signals.
        This is the way of our village.
        Faded ghosts and tumbling graves.
        While the overcast clouds refuse to break,
        In unison. Though our chapel is a beacon,
        It is now empty. The signals remain.
       We could hear the cries from afar.
       Crimson red light flashes across the sky.
       As we wonder, are we all going to die?
       Silent ashes, veils of ruin, displacement
       Spread like hot lava, rushing over russet
       Color stains blood on the pavement.
      The blood of the system collapses.
      Onto life without boundaries that can’t
       Be contained, regional empire tectonic 
       Shift in the fractured border line.
       Meanwhile, the reprisal intensifies.
       It’s mortified chants: time to die!
       This defiance is a persistence to annihilate,
       Their existence, a devastating conflict,
       Ominous looms in a shaded view.
       Strife ravaged, has stripped life out of
       A vacuum in this infrastructure population
       Now fleeing their homeland.
       Migrant echoes remnants of the past, now
       Haunts the present; shadows of tomorrow.
       With nothing but wounds that never fully heal.
       This place was once their residence; every scene
       Now fades into decay.
       An endemic war cycle; disturbance, systematic,
       On an unprecedented scale that persists.
       While the people suffer unforgettable years.

The Moon La Luna

At night the moon is glowing upon the landscapes and oceans..
Ocean shimmers in the dark..
Mysterious night shimmers..
Dance in the atmosphere..
Moon is full and tides are high..
Shimmering moonlight is a lovely sight.
We can feast our eyes..
Glancing upon the sky..
visions of glow in the dark..
Surrounded by darkness..
Whistling winds..
Sounds of the ocean..
High tides sings a tune of its own melody..
The stars in the sky are of abundance..
Stars dominate the night skies..
Each star has a life of its own..
A star is born..
There are only beginnings..
Endings are never..
Stars are infinite..
We are the stars..
We are infinite..
We sustain infinity..
We are eternal..
No boundaries..
No limitations exist..
Unlimited access to being infinite eternally....
Form: ABC

True Love

Author Dana Redricks
May 9, 2023

True love is like a river, Flowing, constant, and strong; It's not a fleeting feeling, that changes 
like the waves of the sea.

It's not based on what we have, or the things we may do, It's not the passing fancy, that lingers for only a few. 

True love knows no boundaries for it is forever true, it is constant, and it never fades away. True love does not come and go, like the seasons we know.

It's a constant connection, A bond that's unbreakable, True love is a perfect reflection of who God is. True love is something that is unshakable. 

True love is unconditional, It's a gift that's rare to see, It's a treasure beyond measure, that fills our hearts with glee. 

So cherish true love given, It's a rare and precious thing, True love is a constant thing in life's journey, and the joy that it often brings.

Elected Rejected

Discrediting plausibility 
by shredding their humility 
to a place of vulnerability 
devoured by inabilities 
cowardice incompetence 
showered into consciousness 
empowered causing confidence 
validation found in compliments 
a false sense of accomplishment 
resort to intense punishment 
to knock down their competitors 
who speak of truth not metaphors 
that could reverse their actual course 
see them falling through floorboards 
far from craved credited applause 
a status low as though blackballed 
on salaries always needing more 
survival gifting no rewards 
a personality to be ignored 
social skills which leave them bored 
testing humans to their core 
needing a win but cannot score 
electrical without a cord 
no plug socket or power source 
as management you were assured 
entitlement had power stored 
defensive walls they reinforced 
the canon fire rains then pours 
constant drainage of resource
when liars reign without remorse 
demonstrate through acts of war 
axing allies no friends of yours 
switching sides ending support 
backtracking and invasions fall 
forward thinking backward thoughts 
two faced fronts fights are fought
defend positions within the fort 
saving supply routes to the port 
lowered standards poor results 
lose respect face the onslaught 
enclosing can’t escape assaults
laced with disgrace of dense insults
unsatisfactory falling short 
the cost of power steeply soars 
run out of bullets fight with swords 
sticks and stones not canon balls 
back to basics of infant schools 
learning how the mighty fall 
turns out you might be a fool 
from the authority you adore 
to unemployed and lost it all 
from big and powerful to small 
once important not anymore 
once arrogant above the law 
apparently now unloveable
a tyrant silenced by rivals 
the outlaw downfall locked indoors 
freedom within the prison walls 
abusing boundaries horribly 
so far beyond authority 
explicitly and vicously 
fully of inefficiency 
faults and inability 
soulless animosity 
dethroned without the sovereignty 
lost lonely in unpopularity.
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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