Long Capture Poems
Long Capture Poems. Below are the most popular long Capture by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Capture poems by poem length and keyword.
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Goree Island
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: February/2014
I see the blood
of my ancestors
that swell
in the Atlantic ocean
on
Goree Island -
The unmerciful ill winds
that fell
over my people,
in Senegal,
on that
horrific night,
brought the European's,
across the Atlantic,
to our Village -
Everything
in the world
changed forever,
and
will never be forgotten,
when the "unthinkable"
cruel acts
of slavery,
cloaked my people
like
darkness in the night -
White men
dressed in British
formal attire,
brought with them,
bullwhip's, chains, machetes,
and rifles,
to capture us.....
to ENSLAVE us!
We were brutally beaten,
and
taken to
the House of Slaves,
on Goree Island -
The malice intent
of
the British,
intensified our
suffering
at the slave house,
as they
cuffed us to
the walls,
in neck, waist,
and
ankle chains -
Days would pass,
some of us died
from
diseases,
and
starvation,
while waiting
for
the slave ship
to come
from the Americas -
The hideous inhumane
acts
by the British,
sold us
as property,
as we were
auctioned off as
commodity,
to the Americas,
during
the Atlantic Slave Trade
The mournful ness
in our helpless eyes,
spoke of horrendous fear,
as a feeling of distraught,
distress,
and despair,
clothed us
like
death -
We are innocent people
that will never
see our families again
Our homeland again -
It's unfathomable,
to see black souls in chains,
taking those final usurious
steps towards the "Door Of No
Return,"
in the House Of Slaves,
which left its ugly mark,
on the whole global earth -
Once through
the Door Of No Return,
we were sold to the Americas,
and
faced a future of
severe beatings, burnings,
hangings, lynchings,
and
rape -
To this day,
ancient spirits
of
black people,
still scream in rage
on
Goree Island,
where an untold number
of us were
slaughtered,
and
branded
before walking
through the slave door,
of
an uncertain future -
The ominous clouds
of slavery,
will
forever cast
a dark shadow,
over the
House Of Slaves,
the Door Of No Return,
and the world -
Goree Island,
in the Atlantic Ocean,
will forever
cry tears of blood,
from the souls of
black people -
Dedicated to my children who have kept my dreams alive.
LOOKING BACK
We can’t go back
To the days of yesteryear
To capture those lost feelings
With those whom we loved so dear
I am just looking back to see
Where all of my dreams first start
You know those deep seeded dreams
Buried way down deep in your heart
I’m not trying to revive a lost love
That I once had forty years ago
Or even trying to replace the twenty years
Of not seeing my grandchildren grow
There were times of much struggle
Filled with pain, fear and torture
It was the love I had for my children
That developed my strength to endure
My children only remember the 2nd set
Of twenty years that have come and gone
When they were all moving out on their own
And when all of the grandchildren came along
It’s like I was locked in a rock
Throughout those 20 to 40 years
Not able to see my grandchildren
Filled my heart with so many tears
The bitterness you feel towards me
Is understandable and really okay
My children, you all have the right
To your feelings and to feel that way
I have finally made the escape
Since that rock has split wide open
I want you all to know who I really am
I haven’t changed at all, only my situation
The gift of feelings we have in our heart
Whether right or wrong, just happen
It matters not what others may think
We should let out our own self expression
No feelings are really ever wrong
In another’s view or even our own
Our thoughts trigger our feelings inside
The feelings we have are ours alone
Looking back strengthens my heart
Reminding me I want to pass along
To all of you, just who I really am
Before my time on earth is gone
One day I hope you will realize
With you I have always been
Filling you up with that extra love
You may have noticed you’ve been given
You have all filled up
Such a big part
Of all the dreams
Living in my heart
My best friend Grace, reminded me
That our feelings are meant to be and to last
God wouldn’t put the dreams in our heart
If He didn’t plan to bring the dreams to pass
My dreams haven’t changed
I am not letting them go
They are for new adventures
With new beginnings of tomorrow
Now that I’m looking back
I’m so glad to have survived
I know now, my love for all of you
Has always kept my dreams alive
Florence McMillian (Flo)
In all honesty,
I never learned your name.
I didn’t need to;
The look in your eyes is your name
Like fireflies, they twinkle and glimmer your name
A name I love saying
The way you stare at me
It’s like I’m the color yellow,
And I’m painting away the grey of your world
That’s what you tell me
As my head rests in the crook of your neck, and your fingers trail up the bare of my hip
You’re yellow, and sunshine to me you say
And I’m grey like a pebble, soaking up your rays
I laugh
But grey is my favorite color I tell you
It’s the color of the skies on the days I’m tucked in your arms, because its too cold and wet to go outside
It’s the color of my favorite blanket that I keep under my bed
Its only for special occasions
When I need to cry and shake and let the dreams of the night know I’m not okay
You’re not just for special occasions though
You’re for every occasion. Every fight, every dance,
Every laugh with my head thrown back and my fingers tightening around you for purchase because laughing with you is like an ******, it breaks me, it builds me, it loves me
Even when you’re not here
I still think of you
I sit you beside me, and tell you thoughts, even when reality speeds around us, and you’re not really there
Even now I can sit you beside me
And trace the figures of your love with my eyes
Black hair, straight and deep. Sometimes short, sometimes long; I can’t choose, you’re beautiful either way
Brown eyes, deep like the dirt flowers and dreams can only sprout in, that burn like the hearts of spinning stars
Tall, and I hate it, but you always use it to your advantage to capture me tight
I lied
I love it
Long fingers, and you pluck secrets and whimpers from me like notes from a harp
God, I love them
God, I crave them
You’re my all dreams bundled into one, my opposite, my piece of the puzzle, my favorite melody, my infinite addiction
I can’t live without you
A day that goes by without you is another breath stolen from my lungs but what can I do because you’re not even real
Like Pygmalion, I’ve fallen in love with my own mind’s tortured creation and now I can love no one but you
I can stare at no one but you, and when the night falls, I can go to no one but you
To Orsino, how can you say women can’t love like men?
I’ve fallen in love with a woman and now I’m dead.
September 25, 2018
In the dark she is waiting, 200 kilos of velvet
separating one world from the other.
It was art to her, she was under no pretence,
she was an instrument, and she made the other instruments merge in a delicious unprecedented harmony.
A poet, a warrior, a lover, a sinner. She has tasted the divine and the melodramatic, to capture moments, photographs, for the use of summoning emotion and reality.
She had been hurt and she had hurt, she had walked towards hell and ran away from heaven. Beginning as a muse and then enslaving the musicians one by one with her whispy and sultry tones.
An electric keyboard breaks the mumbling, vibrato, a pause, a cheer. The drape rises and she peers from the darkness, masked by shadow to the floodlit mass in front.
The drums are brushed gently as the crowd softens to the figure emerging from the dark. Not knowing if they were permitted to break the spell or join it, the crowd pay their respect with silence.
You can almost see the phantoms she has witnessed being beckoned into her. Short linear smoky essences, touching her then being pulled inside. She saunters slowly towards the mic, eyes closed, and with both hands it becomes a sceptre. This will be a heartfelt song again.
She inhales, her belly fills, and she breathes life into the mic. Her tones slice through the thick air, soft yet with such projection and feel. The crowd can not contain themselves and let out a cheer as their eyes fill. She masterfully picks up her bass, as if resurrecting a lost love, and it sings for her.
Her hair is gone now, most of the crowd know why and they want to cry. But she holds them, captivated, and hypnotises a smile into them. They sway to her, some hold their chests as if covering some hole for fear of their hearts falling out.
This will be the last time we will feel her grace. But she will be summoned herself. The band know this. She sits, the treatment has taken it out of her. But her voice never falters. That chair will be kept alongside the drummer that loved her. Her bass will be his kryptonite. But he will keep it close anyway.
The curtain will not fall tonight, it shall remain at half mast. She will bow and we will fall at her mercy one last time. In homage, and respect. She will leave but she will never be forgot. She has trained herself into them, and she will always be singing.
The Forest
The forest never
asks where it is
it always knows the way
be like the forest
You'll find me in the forest
Beneath the silver birch tree
With ribs in weaves of primrose
And stomach in knots of heather
What beauty today
In a land such as this,
Spinning blue skies
Dizzy from twirling leaves,
Stars in the water
Shining like sunken treasure,
Loose trees shifting
And dripping warm sun down their backs,
And everything, everything alive.
What beauty today,
In this land
Like a steady stream
That trickles through the forest,
I will persevere.
Though my journey is unknown,
I know I’ll reach the ocean.
Magnificent leaves
Beautiful tall pines and oaks
Mysterious, Dark
In this wild resplendent place
ferns unfurl softly green
below bearded mossy trees
rain falls, birds call, echoing
sound of deep forest
breathing
Its wild in here
yet so peaceful
your love has made a forest out of me
You are the forest
that I'm willing to explore even at the most dangerous and darkest area.
Just to discover
your beauteous mysteries.
As the wind blows
through the desolate trees
of a forbidden forest
and the falling of the leaves
is all that can be heard
everything stands, still
there is no time
only peace
Adventure has started
you have to capture my heart,
i will be running ,
so begin the hunt.
Be careful to choose the right path,
my forest is enchanted,
you might fall into a trap.
pick a weapon for this fight,
you must be cautios,
don't let me out of your sight.
i'll be hiding somewhere far,
watch your moves,its dangerous,
i could leave you a scar.
i think you have a chance to win,
just let your mind run wild
and keep your heart clean.
Love,is like a forest,
so big, mystifying, and enchanting,
yet,so evil, dark, and dangerous.
Life,is like a tree in a forest,
one out of many but individually beautiful, with
amazing aspects,yet,ordinary, overpowering, or underwhelming.
Friendship,like a branch on the tree.
a part that makes something, different,
and wonderful,yet,differing, imperfect, and vast.
We are a part of the forest.
In the forest of hope,
One will find tranquility, prosper, and love,
In the forest of hope,
One is all and all is one.
In the forest of doubt,
One will find hostility, failure, and evil,
In the forest of doubt,
One is none and none is one.
By Aliza Kashmala Kiran
My Dear, Please understand.
You cant force your light upon him.
You might be the reason he smiles while his eyes squint and sparkle.
His laughter will certainly affirm your clever humor.
You will impress him with well-earned accomplishments.
Your impeccable wit will not go unnoticed.
He may even feel affection and empathize with your sincere words or actions.
You will undeniably allure him.
My dear, please understand.
You are truly worthy, you won't be to him.
You will choose him, he won't choose you.
He can't.
My dear, please understand.
His rejection is not a reflection of you.
His actions reflect something much bigger than you.
He is at war with demons you can't comprehend.
These demons whisper to his mind and dance on his heart.
They represent the weaknesses within him.
My dear,
You possess a servant's heart
but you are no servant of the demons that play on his.
We are all at war, you too have demons.
Demons are relentless creatures sent from the depths of Hell
they ravage and destroy our very being, if we allow.
There is no reasoning, no alliance that can be made with demons.
They will consume you from the inside.
My dear, please understand.
It's not him. It's his demons he has allowed to rule over him.
This is a solo war that can't be fought from the outside.
You cannot save him.
You cannot save him.
You cannot save him.
Only he can save himself.
And you must prioritze the war you are fighting.
You must save yourself.
My dear, please understand.
He is not the validation that you need.
His actions should not reflect your value to yourself or to him.
He is not your father's rejection.
His sweet carress will not requite the man of your past who was once not so gentle.
His affection is not sufficient in replacing the empty hole
expanded by doubt, abandonment, and anguish you sanctioned your demons
to create within yourself.
My dear,
Your tenacious nature and relentless love will not be disregarded.
Your weaknesses, the demons who dance on your heart
will surely capture the attention of his very own demons.
My dear, please understand.
If granted; the demons that consume him
will gladly consume you too.
-Ashley Johnson
I had a dream that I was a butterfly
winged iridescent; my life would flutter by
as I was dreaming a dream of a dream of
my own lepidopteron being above.
Hither and thither I flightily flitted,
or so it seemed, as illusion befitted,
with troubles, eidolons, and nebulous fears.
And thus it continued for one hundred years.
In the Nymphalidae family was I,
akin to the nebula high in the sky
with beauty Cithaerial shimmering bright
in colors that cover the spectrum of light.
Knots and shells detailed in this Hubble capture
glow in light show that can bring about rapture,
cause soulful poets to sing about gladly
(seeing a butterfly wing about madly)
or brood over sadly with soft doleful sighs
the ultimate stages before its demise.
Stargazers perceive it with scientists’ eyes
and give facts and figures astronomer-wise.
The lobes of Twin Jet PN M Two Dash Nine
expand ever outward in pinion design
from central star system, in gaseous streams
of splendorous rainbows pellucid in gleams.
The binary stars at the nebula’s heart
go round one another in luminous art,
spending a century in this rotation,
and form the wings through their stellar gyration.
But let us return to the classical theme
of the Chinese philosopher’s famous dream
(which these rhyming stanzas have sought to extol),
where I found myself playing a starring role.
Diaphanous butterfly wings had I then
in the long-lived dream that I dreamed ten by ten
decades lastingly onward in cosmic time,
as did Sleeping Beauty in legend sublime.
Yet when I awakened, no alae had I.
No longer was I slender winged butterfly,
but veritably was a human once more,
with life to engage in, encounter, explore,
or just suffer through in a sentient state.
How would I create my tellurian fate?
Still I wondered if this was ‘reality’.
Could I be a butterfly dreaming of me?
To die, perchance dream; ay, indeed that’s the rub
that makes us endure the heartache and hubbub.
For death claims all beings as part of its sum.
And in sleep of death, who knows what dreams may come?
~ Harley White
______________________________________________
Inspiration for the poem was from the article, “The wings of the butterfly ~ New Hubble image of the Twin Jet Nebula”, of August 25, 2015, on the Hubble Space Telescope Org website.
love the grey in a lazy day bridge the gap in my dreams through twisted schemes
filter through the notion of belonging mark the longing get a following
we are in this til the end my faithful friend with whom I can depend
inside I have rollercoaster emotions with the ups & downs
take a walk on the beach try to catch that frisbee way out of reach
love the longing of belonging there's a yearning hearts are turning
take a shower in the hour of power nestled in a memory come to sit next to me
Each man chooses their own destiny call it magical chemistry from when you were a memory
Rise to the occasion with soaring hearts as in some decorated mast to impart
love is basking in the jewels of renewal carry on with a song in your heart
love is the mere tenderness of the given moment from a sought after vintage smile
comfort me to the conclaves of lasting love soon you will discover a heart to unfold
many are living in mere fantasy basking in the leaves or newly fallen snow
hearts would unfold some time a go the notion of surrender
Come with me to the sea of tranquility lost in a dream feel the breeze
Tea leaves with Leonard Cohen singing basking in the vast expanse between time & space
Surrender to the moment with cadence as its following and deep heart belonging
the tender moments of belonging soaring like an eagles to parts unknown
Caress the bossom of softened decorum as we choose to be healed
the day is fast approaching and the night is far too spent
to quiver in the moment let the temporal vanish capture the longing
I sit alone above to dew left to groom a brand new view in what is left to do
give me a smile your support and your fantasies let them flourish let them unfold
Hear each passing wave rise to the occasion with the real remnants of nature
To equate laughter with forgiveness give pause to think being in the moment
one touch and one will rise with triumph in their eyes
The ability to let go and let God take over feelings to recapture prepared for the great here after...
arm me with harmony filtered through a dream give pause to breathe
Achieve your dreams to light the way of forgiveness the mere wanting to let go
Be compassionate when you learn to focus on your goals in which to unfold
like Stevie Wonder singing at your funeral learn role reversal
Choose to let go & let God each & every passing day
Follow me and I will follow you only to sacrifice and pledge my soul.
Now known only as one!
Soaring in the winds with rapid inspirations exploding one by one,
It is your final fantasy to live again!
Victim of suicide revealed by fate and conquered by the depths of love,
Life of life has just begun!
The warmest touch begs respect for the quality found deep within.
It is your final fantasy to finally begin!
Encouraged by beliefs to uphold the strength of one’s destiny,
Yet, embraced with one final and endless thought!
A kiss of pleasure obscures the kiss goodbye,
Accompanied with its warmth to pleasure your need!
It is your final fantasy to bow down for these borrows and trade.
Subtle with perfection you are as pure as a white dove.
Your desire is to never ever get lost with what you’ve caught.
Insensitive delights begin to dwell from deep within,
You burn and ache for a place to finalize where it is that you belong.
It is your final fantasy to conquer these steps in which you alone have made.
Sacrifice those objectives captured and held in your time!
Acknowledge your very own self with the quality known only by the depths inside of you!
Fly away with me, but only for a moment.
Embrace only that which enlightens the moment seized!
It is your final fantasy to touch and feel everything that you never knew.
Life is our mystery, yet we uphold its true value with our righteous dignity.
Harvest your life moment by moment,
Make it your very own prey for the little ones who never knew.
Gather the sensations and absorb life as you breathe in your every breath of air.
It is your final fantasy to indulge with the intrigued and explore all of these parts inside of
you!
Release yourself from the depths of love and find what it is that you truly seek.
Life of life has finally just begun!
Looking up and looking down but never looking all of the way around,
The loss of control is the loss that you will gain!
It is your final fantasy to whisper in the dark and to cry in plain sight.
Open minds with open hearts capture the true essence, for they completely belong!
Spirits fly and soar through life with so much energy powered with intensity’s strength.
They find the treasures you’ve always sought but have never found.
Your final fantasy is to escape your darkness and to find yourself inside of this beaming ray of
light!
The shifting of many corporeal hands move across this dead cell,
A vacuums vortex, a psychic sponge, charging this battery of
Energy called the spirit board.
Paranormal phenomenon striking plate to enter realities plane
Of existence, for the ethereal challenged in crisis, seeking the
Threshold for spontaneous release, unto our spiritual realm.
Witchery’s board of trickery left in a polarized stance it
So entices the living with its tempting whispering of lies,
Incantations gate keepers wait on the other side of evils
Door way.
Memorizing the human sensory functions into a false
Sense of harmless mystery of the unexplained, it lures
These victims ever closer to weaving its spell of the demonic.
These capture being lost unto the hypnotic effects are
Transfixed unable to hit their override switch that controls
Their mental powers of persuasion, disabled is there strength
Of will power, they belong to the Ouija now.
Clasping do all for sides of the curtain of reality, times
Displacement begins in earnest, without hesitations
Momentary loll this dead cell bursts to life.
Black magic key has been inserted within the wooden
Door way’s heart and soul, a bizarre power bank draws
Forth the energy of the spiritual lost, swinging hells
Kept wide open.
The pancetta spins out of control, smashing against
The barriers of humanity, darkened ebony light shines
Through this doorway of evil and the flickering candle
Turns to a shades greenish blue wavering in the odious
Breeze.
The voice of a thousand screams echo in sheer delight,
We have been freed at last, broken is the trance, the boards
Hypnotic effects are dashed by the light of the dawn.
Dazed in bewilderment the voyeurs are chilled to their
Very inward bones, shaking, staring in awes amazement,
Wondering if these events really happened at all.
Then within these tented walls a voice responds to their
Questioning, laughing, as if a jackal at a fresh kill site!
Foolish mortals you know not what you have done, this
Night, but I promise thee this, laughing once again,
In a demonic under tone, none shall leave this domicile
Alive.
The entry doors lock without the human touch, the
Curtain windows pull closed, a momentary stilled
Scream, then all is silent, what remains is left up
To my readers to visualize, as the final candle
Blows out!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN