Long Call forth Poems
Long Call forth Poems. Below are the most popular long Call forth by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Call forth poems by poem length and keyword.
Sixty plus, and counting,
Still running from my life:
Child, athlete, writer, warrior,
Master Teacher, mother, wife.
Still pondering the age-old question,
"Who am I?"
Am I what I do? What I have? Where I work?
Or, are these just my alibis?
Who looks out longingly
from my tired, tear washed eyes?
Am I what I own? Where I've been? Who I've loved?
Or, are these just my alibis?
Does my body define me?
Am I only flesh and blood?
Or, am I composed of each fleeting moment,
Comprised of sweetness, truth and love?
Once, long ago, in a precognitive dream,
I heard God's resonating voice whispering to me,
"You are Eternal, Immortal, and nothing can hurt you."
So, am I cosmic lights and spirit? Am I the path I seek?
Once, long ago, out of body,
I reveled in a sheath of cosmic light,
Knowing the truth of my own Oneness
And the ecstasy of dimensions in transcending flight.
"I Am that I AM." said the Most High God.
Can it really be so starkly simple,
To speak our truth and declare our Beingness,
And all of Life our sacred temple?
I am all possibility, one with my Source.
Powerful, omniscient: an unwavering creative Force.
By my focus and intention, I look deeply into Sri Yantra.
and I become who I choose to be.
By simply deciding to, I call forth the essence of me.
Chula Fleming© 5/22/2015
"Magdalenes and Eves"
Pin the tale on the donkey
there’s something in the way She moves
a harlot by any other name, pages of
Magdalenes and Eves
the ruin of every good world of righteous man
opened doors and gates to new universal territories
before and always will
and freedom was still kept tight
before the flood birthed doves and peace
She stood for what She was worth
bartered, maligned and misunderstood
but a vessel just the same as a floating ark
the screams of newborns doused in innocence
quiet all the senseless noise and call forth
the reason for Her thorny existence -
without the harlot there is no life at all;
a rose by any other name
except that;
all Gods are birthed
from a Woman
and that God is found
within the runes
Candide Diderot. ‘25
I Soar the night
so dark it shimmers,
and spear through time
in the cold of the winter
Morphing through wind
I play in the dust,
prey on the weak
and draw them with lust
I speak to the dead
and call forth a spell,
a force of power
man cannot quell
Stray in the light
and close to a cross,
or praying some night
I WILL find you lost
Have garlic on hand
and wreath your neck,
or hungered some night
I might bite you yet
Ivy rose is my name
and I’m thirsting for blood,
my desire in your veins
will soon mouth to floods
Beguiled to lust
I will bequeath,
that your juice will flow
as my fangs unsheathe
I stalk the streets
in a purple cape,
and walk in a darkness
no creature can escape
Drawn to mirrors
I am cursed in glass,
but I look through the ages
and no image does pass
Walking to death
I look to the light,
dreaming someday
to resurrect in life
O Spirit of Earth
I imagine you in all things
Alive in the sparkle of ocean, lake and stream
In misty veils that hang on dawn like lavender dreams
Spirit of Earth I’ve seen your breath arise
in secret places where clouds are formed
I’ve heard your silvery laughter as another stream is born
In magical forests that call forth flowers and leaves
In opal skies that cycle clouds to rebirth every Spring
Sweet Spirit of Earth lying in banks of blue flowers
Wonder, dream, and delight –these are your words
Words that bid new mountains rise,
convoluting deep confessions, like spells in violet eyes
in dark realms is your Spirit waiting to arise.
Like a collage of beauty- Spirit of Earth
with all your unknown mysteries
Your wisdom of renewal flowing through all things
Death is your slumber of symphonies unsung
Spirit of Earth in dreaming sleep,
awaken your miracles – remain forever young
For Nature Contest
You are the totem, simply told,
In man and mountain lore
Pillared tall, your spirit thrives
Where myths and legends soar –
Among the ravens where they fly,
With creed held fast in hand,
You speak the language of the earth;
You sound the depths of man
And grasp the wisdom of the pearl
Fashioned in the sea,
Calling for the conch to voice
The truth you know to be –
A monolith of latitudes,
With grace not undermined,
Lamenting as the deaf and dumb
Are handled by the blind,
You wear the scars of battles waged
Across the centuries
And grant the bearer of your wounds
The marks of history –
Where now you stand, you now arise
To face the rising tide;
You see the quiet burning sun;
You hear the ocean’s cry
Raise now your silent, muted voice!
Lift up your hooded eyes!
Let loose the chains that time has forged
Where truth and beauty lie –
Exalt us with your noble height!
Bestir the waking land!
Totem, in your boundless grace,
Call forth a better man –
Winter's touch 'pon the peach orchard
Gray limbs await spring's buds
Lavender beauties adorning
When deer passed their ruts
Winter's bare hold dark and dreary
Nature trapped within its spell
All buds captured in its lair
Joy could be quickly quelled
Then sunlight reaches through the gloom
Instantaneously gray removed
Warmth touches down to the sinew
Such a time now approved
Winter's peach orchard bare not barren
Spring will come and give birth
Time will call forth its forgotten
Come love dancing with mirth
Sponsor: Juli-Michelle
Contest: Winter Blues
This is written in a form which is a type of
Poulter's Measure
Syllables 8,6,8,6
Only the 6 rhyme..
I call forth pain
upon myself willingly
plunging a sharp dagger each day
into my own heart
by remembering
oh, you cannot see my hidden wounds
as I hide them well
for my scars are mine to love
but I pen grieving words of pain and loss
written with my blood
from this weeping, weeping soul
how can I not do so
and I send my tears on fluttering wings
that swirl and drift in the wind
and my wish is, oh
please land in gentle hands ...
______________________
April 24, 2023
Poetry/Verse/pain
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1542-516-24
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
I am an ugly duckling in a world of unblemished snowy swans
Whose long necks only serve to further the height from which they look down upon me.
They have picked me clean of feathers, and I am ashamed of the scarred carcass beneath.
I am a toy, forgotten at the bottom of the toy box.
Once my only joy was in making others smile, laugh, learn . . .
Until they learned there were newer and better toys than me.
I am a lush, garden pool in the desert
Beckoning with the appearance of bounty and water
But only a mirage that, upon closer inspection, is dry and barren, having been sucked dry by previous travelers.
But, I am a woman. A wife. A mother.
I am planted in the soil of my determination, fed from the light of women who came before.
My body has been ripped apart by the same force that gives it the will to live.
I can part the clouds with a whisper, or call forth chaos with a scream.
But I choose to rule my kingdom with laughter, love, and loyalty.
Because my legacy will not be defined by anything but the fruit of this, my soul.
For what is the nature of the beast
That comes with fiery breath to steal the feast
And then, upon the morrow, floods the fields
Thus rotting on the vines what summer yields
And yet with gentle tones, A subtle breeze
Can fill our hearts with joy and make us sneeze
Call forth from hidden caves a will to live
And in our joyful hearts the beast forgive
For we are but the pawns with which she plays
Her fickle nature changing with the days
At sunrise she’ll beguile us with her glow
At sunset chill our hearts with winter’s snow
She bears no malice, her moods defy our reason
For her it’s just the whimsy of a season
9/20/2021
“N” poems, New or Old Poetry Contest
Galvanizing, never scrutinized; each moment falsely tabulated;
Slanted, polarized polls, punishing spiteful pundits
Spouting, spinning lies in frantic unison squawking
Ridiculous versions of fear mongering tales,
Meant to frighten, meant to hurt,
Meant to clutch and pulverize power.
It takes only a calm, rational thinking moment
To see through the maze of their foggy logic.
Nothing they say is fact checked or based in truth.
Spinning frantic webs to catch the unwary
To call forth violence with rage filled rants,
They push disturbing diatribes, provoking mayhem..
Drumming up revolt among the weak-minded minions ,
They still cannot cloak their hurtful and murderous intent.
President Trump has called them out, laughing in their faces.
Finally unmasked and stripped of disguises
There is nowhere to run, no more hiding places.
We see you. We stare at the darkness behind your malicious eyes.
Your fake news fiction will never again deceive us with your lies.