Long Chanced Poems
Long Chanced Poems. Below are the most popular long Chanced by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chanced poems by poem length and keyword.
Riding a roller coaster
Propelled by life’s velocity
Governed by instincts and thought
Driven by an urge to emerge victorious
Sentience deadened to conscience
Flitting thus from desire to desire
We built an imaginary script
Of narrow ego identity
Some conquests won
We saw not unshed tears
Of mute weaker souls wasted
Owing to our callous, feral savagery
Likewise, we encountered defeat
Whereupon we steadied heart
Resolving to rise once again
Imagining ego as the doer
Our face in the mirror
Reflected pride and conceit
Beggars too began looking away
Recognising our cold, hard countenance
So it chanced to pass that by grace
One day we chose to look within
Shocked to see soul shrivelled
Lonely in our bleeding heart
We stopped the flow of time
Frozen for what seemed eternity
Crying out silently into the vast void
Wishing to be healed and feel complete
A divine voice instantly responded
Asking if our resolve was strong
To walk the talk as affirmed
In thought, word and deed
The path simple and direct
Liken it to a hop-on hop-off bus
We hop off the ego bus and choose love
Shifting consciousness from head to heart
Voice of conscience grew stronger
We dwelt not on material gain
Shifting into mindfulness
A stillness continuum
Yet love that is imbibed
Takes time for assimilation
But what matters time any more
To the one who has since vaporised
In timeless time ensconced in bliss
Empowered by a magnetic pulse
Which we may give any name
Kundalini or The Holy Spirit
Baptised in the stream
Twice born, we yet lived on
Our soul within, one with oneness
Seeing now earth life as but a lucid dream
Wherein we are being breathed by God
As He does for all sentient life forms
To fulfil our soul’s smallest wish
Now aligned with love alone
Now we do honestly confess
We know not what scriptures say
All we affirm from our life experience
Is that once we align with God’s love impulse
For each step we take, He leaps forward
Gathering us in His warm embrace
Lighting the lamp of love within
Darkness then is no more
20-January-2022
Repent and Believe Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Poem inspired by the contest prompt: 1 John 1:9 KJV - If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
MY POETRY
Here's the entry !
Not for contest
but chanced to set,
doing my best.
Appreciate.
Directory !
Taking no theme
for her or him.
Nothing supreme .
Only blank film .
Biometry !
Light, strong or firm.
Thoughts sprout on arm.
Dreams shine on derm
carrying own charm.
Geometry !
Curvy or straight:
Whims going great.
May you accept
or can reject.
Gem Factory !
What's in a name ?
Words ef poem
glisten as gem.
Poetic game.
On Chemistry !
Combination :
Words ! Emotion !
Perfect fusion.
Composition.
Sweet Symmetry !
Words play random.
It's my freedom.
to feel seldom
any boredom.
It's Poetry !
Verse : Rhymes both run
each taking turn
in depth or fun :
Satisfaction.
Ella Cuthbert lived with her husband John, in an age of twinkling stars;
They had a little dog named Alfie, who loved riding in pretty, swift cars.
Alfie was loved by those who knew him, as red flowers charm adorers;
And he was the darling of their street, like rainbows, crossing borders.
The Cuthberts had many interests, and on lazy days they were content,
To rove summer streets with Alfie, wondering where blue violets went!
Friends do not go out of style, as the glittery, memory stars, flash lime.
They found fun activities for Fridays, when pearl moon began to climb.
Funky family visited feature-rich evening, in faultless days of summer;
Amidst feasibly fragrant, flambe flowers, swaying to sudden thunder.
Ella lived in a house of barking, at motley windows of Alfie excitement,
Where bluebirds and ruby butterflies met, on mysterious assignments.
Sea salt added flavor to sweet breezes, on the street of Port Goodbye;
That overlooked white sand and surf, where stars peeked, like a spy.
Nervous night and day were newlyweds, at the dawn of fading dreams.
Later filled with novelty and notions, and neighbors, amidst sunbeams.
'Mountain devils' bloomed wickedly red, in the beautiful Blue Mountains,
Aptly shaped blue puya blooms, trumpeted sunrise, near cool fountains.
Purple 'surprise lilies' were stunners, appearing abruptly the world over,
When the rare 'parsley fern' was savored, like beautiful, coming closer.
Eager Ella called Alfie one day, but was dismayed at getting no answer!
Yet, a hole under their fence said a lot, like a scented, blooming planter.
Crushed Ella and John went searching, like the spotlight of pearl moon.
Though posters offered a reward, they felt anxiety, on the edge of June.
Then woeful Ella finally uttered the words, that became a beloved rhyme;
Like when riotous spring blooms come early, sweetly ahead of their time!
After a week, Alfie was found at last, in the thrill of mockingbird evening;
When a lady chanced to read his collar, when pink stars were convening!
'Oh, where, oh, where
Has my little dog gone?
Oh, where, oh, where
Can he be?
With his ears cut short
And his tail cut long,
Oh, where, oh, where
Can he be?
Oh where, oh where
Has my little dog gone?
Oh, where, oh, where
Can he be?'
Prior to my final Masters Exam, I spent five months
in Uncle's place on study leave and once chanced to meet
my Mr. Perfect and was devastated .
No way , my ardent ardour compelled me
to fall in love :
He was my First Love.
Seeds of love were sown in two souls
to sprout .
Tender sapling of emotive urge started to grow.
Dormant yearnings formed the stem.
Roots of passion pierced the core of heart
in deep dolour.
Romance rippled on shivered nascent leaves.
I never interacted direct to Mr.Perfect
even both standing face to face.
Yet our silent world was magnificent.
Mere exchanges of glance was sufficient to tie
ethereal emotional bond.
Two soft buds in two minds shone in amorous glow.
Dreamy desires danced delight
in wobbling dilemma
thrashing on different shores through swelling urge.
Two surrendered minds being chained in social stigma
are sundered, as none had courage to defy status -quo.
In the last eve of my leave completion ,
we happened to be in a solitary park.
Eagerly I was waiting with full expectation.
He hurried to approach close to me.
I looked straight to his eyes even without blink,
with a feeling that he has overpowered his hesitance.
Eternal Time momentary took pause.
We lost worldly link.
But he couldn't utter a single syllable.
Our love sank in Destined Silence .
I had to be back on next day.
,
Dynamic reef flexion within the restless Earth
Continental drift spelled birth
once spelled Pangaea,
in early geologic time,
a supercontinent that incorporated
almost all the landmasses on Earth.
While rifling through mine
treasure trove of poems,
yours truly chanced upon
satisfactorily worded
geological event
where plate tectonics wrought
subterranean violent transformation
about a half dozen years ago.
Rust never sleeps courtesy zinc
without rhyme nor reason ye shan't
blame Neptune for unleashing
Indonesian tragic phenomena
just by his innocent wink
merely intended by regular
casual reminder
for Earthlings to think
seriously how (inhabited
linkedin chain of islands,)
yea kinda resembling a slink
key, within the ring of fire,
a large 40,000 km
(25,000 mi) horseshoe shape, -
Yukon also envision
a vague watery rink
encompassing basin of Pacific Ocean,
where e'en the subtlest plink
(no doubt unintentional), thus
absolutely necessary for inhabitants
to catch the latest
drift (albeit continental),
he gave forewarning
just days prior,
possibly relayed after
getting tipsy from overdrink,
hence warning not taken seriously,
where majority resident didst think
a practical joke got played,
yet a coterie of attentive people
accoutered in faux mink
(dressed to the nines
fur a gala fete
also taken by surprise,
no one sensed
any sudden high jink
then the cleaners),
and really the entire
population sustained strong kinship
with what they believed
tubby reasonable god
(a carry over from Greco
Roman Times font size 12),
hence could never suspect,
he would hoodwink
boy (and girl), whar
they ever wrong, come
Friday, 28 September 2018
at 17:02h military time,
or 7:02 post meridiem
an earthquake measuring 7.4
on Richter magnitude scale
leaving Indonesian island
of Sulawesi in total ruins,
from said rat fink
and additionally webbed,
wide whirling countersink
triggered a massive tsunami
razing humongous chink
essentially wiping off the map
in an eye blink,
whereat his lordship
could not be reached,
thus survivors bethink
sum - man tricks brought
watership down,
ah buoy big boon
dog gull upon his head,
boot nonetheless coon
sitter ably less of Neptune!
Buried in an avalanche you
might see on "Hoarders buried alive"
back and foreground
white sheet with limited pay per view,
nonetheless sky scraping heap
(Uriah not kid) nsync with a 'U'-
shaped tube anchored securely thru
solid wood - sporting
towering, leaning, bulging, et cetera slew,
sans huge sized mounds,
this goodfella cockily rue
stirs memories while
almond joying sifting,
(comprising ream mains of outdated queue
vee cee paraphernalia, bank statements, old
fair maidens faded letters, phew
against unrequited lovely lasses
kissed by either gentile or Jew
us gal, during young manhood
confession stated, aye did accrue
now (said besmirched Casanova
wannabe across floor I did strew
said, no longer promising princess,
whose once tenderly fresh rose buds
exuded profusely courtesy ingénue
argh..., how frivolous to argue
with cowardly former self, hence
into the maw of das spouse (Sibyl)
she more than enthusiastically
masticates regarding unblossomed
(romantic opportunity) yours truly blew,
when flickr ring spark flame snuffed out
before profound love chanced to hint
of compatibility, ah... nary a blues clue
maybe best not to fantasize
going down nostalgia avenue,
but cast attention upon motley crew,
no matter I traversed
boulevard of broken dreams
(but oh this...pray lemme tell you
more on this cool spring green day)
ornamented with boughs of churrigueresque
mother nature's divinely wrought
sensational beauty procreative forces construe,
yanking fanciful thoughts back to feeding
pulpy material pages of me child's worldview
scribbled squiggly blurred lines
no doubt gifted artistic prodigies shew
did evince talent this papa doth truly value,
yet an excess of near identical curlique
leaves little breathing room, plus report
cards shows innovative smarts,
frequent affirmations this dada paid due
tee, which gushing praise
my girls never taxed for, yet both knew
this aging baby boomer father decries
being swamped with exorbitant clutter
hence effort now made to save whar grew,
some artistic embellishment and/or
intellectual award, the majority hesitantly fed
into jaw of thee missus the human flew
where hard copy quickly incinerated inducing
me to sneeze atchew!
I awake to the beautiful plaintive strains
Of a violin - then realize it’s just in my head
Just a dream - a shame to find
I’m in the hospital - same room - same bed
The monotonous ticking of the clock on the wall
Time, an indefinite progress of my existence
Time for my pills, time to call the nurse
Time not on my side, breaking down my resistance
After lunch a quick nap
Then the visiting hour I dread most of all
Seeing pity in their eyes, they wish me back
To what I was before my withdrawal
The world of music - my life - my love
The fame and fortune that once was mine
Exhilarating - Intoxicating, a wife at my side
With children sharing the Glory Divine
I lived it - I breathed it
Plucked at its very soul
The core of its existence in my hands
Like a faithful servant it played its role
I look at the painting on the wall
A feeling of Déjà vu enters it seems
I’ve seen this glade of lush green plants
And these sparkling bubbling streams
I remember drawing back watching afar
An Angel who danced in its midst
Who danced with wild abandon
Her hair that the sun had kissed
I remember wishing I could dance with her
With this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud
To watch us Dance to Love
But it’s just a painting - There’s no girl there
And I’m just a sick old man
Wallowing in my grief and sadness
Existing however best I can
What’s this I’m suddenly in the glade?
A young strong man once more
She has come for me, my Angel love
I leap - I twirl - I soar
The world I’ve left behind
Unshackled my attachments of
A hundred birds do sing out loud
To watch us Dance to Love
We dance with wild abandon
We dance without a care
With sun kissed skin our arms entwined
Wild flowers in our hair
Footnote:
We do not know for sure if my Father – who was a great violinist and classical musician, had imagined this story when he was a young man, when he chanced on a young girl dancing in the glade. It’s a story he told us many times and we loved to believe it.
I like to imagine a fitting finale to the first story, when his time came and have pictured it in this poem.
This story begins in my Poem arrangement 'Dance to Love - Part 1'
Random Chance
by Rick Rucker
Should your love life be selected by Randon Chance?
Is that any way to find True Romance?
Doesn't it mean so much more,
Than casually changing your home's decor?
Tell everyone, that you are looking,
That, for one, only, you are cooking!
In the search, enlist all your friends,
Tell them what you hope for, when the search ends,
Try all of the venues, even electronic,
Sign up for the dating sites, some quite iconic.
I personally favor this method, you see,
Because it is how my True Love found Me!
I signed up, and posted an ad,
I wrote it, and checked it, thought it not bad.
I more or less expected five to ten replies,
When I got more than two hundred, imagine my surprise!
Why did I get more than ten?
Why write to me, not other men?
Now I had a problem , what could I do?
I cancelled the service, now forlorn, and blue!
Two hundred dates, more than twenty eight a day,
Seemed a more dangerous game, than I wanted to play!
I started to try to cut down the list,
Anyone that wrote an answer whose meaning I missed,
I would quickly toss in the trash,
I would do it with feeling, even quite rash!
Finally, at the end of the quest,
I had done all I could, had done my level best!
I still had twenty five that were left,
At least, with that number, a pile of letters I could heft!
I set a goal, looking back, quite naive,
To find someone, who would, my loneliness, relieve!
That might not sound that hard to do,
But I was looking for My Love Most True!
I wasn't looking for a Date,
But rather, my next Life Long Mate!
With half the applicants remaining there,
I chanced upon My Lady Fair!
Not just a feast for my eyes,
She stole my Heart, a rude surprise!
I had decided to be quite objective,
I guess my Heart didn't get that directive!
An understaterment, to say I was Smitten!
Quite Fatally, by The Love Bug, bitten!
For some time, we have been going out,
When she can't see me, I still jump and shout!
I never thought I'd be again,
The Very Happiest of Men!
Now there is but one thing to do,
To make the Fairy Tale come true.
The Hawaiian Wedding Song, Andy Williams will sing,
If I can but convince her to accept my Ring!
Chasing The American Dream Part1
The wonders of social media and its different applications ...
They allow everyone to make reconnections and link up broken communications...
Recently through the ever pervasive hphone What's app application...
Chanced upon a long lost childhood acquaintance while in primary education..
Going back 50 years or thereabouts, we were school kids so care free...
School was something we had to do going by our respective parents' decree...
Classmates were aplenty when we were that little and so carefree...
Being that many, some were invariably great company and others were on the periphery...
Now that this generation of us are all pushing 60, greying and decidedly growing old...
Facebook and What's app are some social media aids we indulge among friends so old...
Little wonder we are like scattered oats, prospering all over the globe...
Many of us are already dotting GrandParents and savoring our golden years...
A few adventurous souls have conquered distances, seas and the oceans...
They are no longer residing here in Bolehland, the motherland where they were born....
These adventurous ones are now Australians, Singaporeans and one is even in Kiwiland...
And of course, a few are living the American Dream, lapping it up in the Land of the Free...
Now, at the present moment in history, Bolehland here is far from rosy...
Our currency, thankfully it is stabilised temporarily, has fallen considerably...
The political situation is a tumultuous one with frequent spats of public bickering...
The ruling party appears less than satisfactory and perceived to be corrupted and less than worthy...
The common people, the rakyat, are understandably far from happy....
From the onslaught of removed subsidies, new taxes and heightened cost of living ...
So things are far from rosy here in Bolehland, very much unlike the fabled American Dream...
Where freedom reigns to provide golden opportunities of revelling in the American Dream...
So here's the glaring difference, Bolehland here is sliding down a slippery slope of economics...
While far beyond the horizon, the Trump administration is working towards making America Great Again...
What a difference...
Once upon a time I saw night like day
Having no fear from absence of daylight
Sun or moon, I enjoyed both in the same way
Loved the coming of stars in the twilight
Peaceful became dread like the greatest sin
Fearing not the dark but what lurks within
Hidden well from sight are those beings that wait
Existing between the folds of darkness
They are not obvious, made dark like hate
They invite the warmth to leave for coldness
Truly frightful to meet one yet sublime
Creatures of night never seen from daytime
Hardly ever felt at night, so beware
The shadows held no secrets once before
But one dreadful night, I chanced upon it
Ghost! Might sound ridiculous I admit
Yet it was as real as the moon lit dime
Glaring from the desk, like a great comic
My hearth skipped a beat for the first time
My brain urgently forwarding logic
I could not focus on its form on first sight
It stood in the gloom capturing no light
A presence which started out as a blur
Hairs stood on ends at the ghostly figure
Stillness became my only objective
Confronted by him I could not believe
The apparition was there yet not there
Seeming to take form within the darkness
Seeing through him like glass, he seemed harmless
Spirit or ghost I did not know for sure
Scared witless as I was I could not say
My only thought, how to keep him at bay
The specter was then kneeling near my feet
We stared at each other for a long time
To have seen him almost felt like a crime
As if we were never suppose to meet
I could make out his figure very clear
Sadness filled his eyes, removing my fear
It seemed to be pleading, but not with words
A Cheever ran along me like a sword
Are ghosts unable to make any sound?
He seemed ready to howl like a hound
Suddenly, a hand rose towards my face
This disturbing movement hard not to miss
My eyes strained to follow the fathom hand
As it swooped towards me, unstoppable
Ghosts can’t be stopped; it’s the law of the land
To make him gone, I felt incapable
I hid under covers for protection
Shutting my eyes from this confrontation
Uttering in my head, be gone, be gone
Until morning light chased away the dread
I never saw a ghost ever again
My conscience being as heavy as led