Long Changeless Poems
Long Changeless Poems. Below are the most popular long Changeless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Changeless poems by poem length and keyword.
It's waking up to a chaotic morning
not expecting the end of everything
built with passion to last for generations,
it's facing a challenge harder than others,
whispering to ourselves
this frightening and changeless reality,
" All empires crumble and fall,
no writing on the faded wall,
no place was safer than home's tranquility;
there we were protected by our parents. "
A family trusting in God
will know no fear, it stands
in unity; it's bond is made of iron,
the stronger the fortress,
the happier is its livelihood:
how lovely is to watch the logs burn!
All empires crumble and fall,
it took layers upon layers,
to build them and seconds
to destroy them in violent rage;
envy for someone's achievement is cruel,
he has worked hard for his good image!
This nation is being ruined by violence,
no law is obeyed, thugs stick to defiance;
a fearless leader must put an end to all,
although all empires crumble and fall!
(“Before the Door”, 2023, original encaustic)
Our Changeless Nature
Within all the changes of this life
All the particulars of who we are
What we do and know, and don’t know,
Is something that isn’t a thing
Isn’t caused and conditioned
Thus changeless and permanent.
There is only one way to know this nature
And that is for ourselves,
Once it has been pointed out for us,
And this pointing out can come in ten thousand ways
From pedantic philosophy
To poetic allusion
All pointing to the illusion
Of all we think is real.
Eventually this pointing out
Doesn’t depend on an external other
But comes from our own awareness
Like a sun dawning within
Illuminating everything we see,
And everything we see,
Being a projection of this awareness,
Reminds us who we really are.
Everyone, from beggar to king is the same
In carrying a shell we call our self
A shell we cherish and serve
In sad charade of our real self,
But this charade is only sad to the false self
Sad and boring or delightful and charming,
Even enlightening, it makes no difference
Because it is still always false.
To our true self,
Changeless and permanent,
There is only awareness, patient and dispassionate
Without coming or going
Learning or forgetting
And yet still we have these false selves
Striving to become
Something other than we have always been.
Eventually, in the end or along the way
We come to see
Only a fool would wish to be something other
Than they truly are
And in this moment
They know they are no fool
Nor can pretend to be one any more.
If there is no free nature
Then what’s the point
We being slaves to this or that
Blown endlessly by a wind
Of causes and conditions,
But if we have a free nature
Then it’s all good, this play of Life
Just sometimes seen through the wrong end
Of the lens.
(7/21/25)
My essence rises beyond hills or feathers gliding,
deepened by silence immense…
where in peak of light anointed through soul – union;
the grail of non-resistance widens through
some boundless path, a haloed center; drifting on
a meditative space unmapped by this world:
I am at risk of a swarming flight into nothingness...
shapeless, changeless: there's no finality
in this total release, only a blaze of discernment
greeting the god within,
that in the absence of mind’s overtures
an inner sanctuary divine wraps me, quiet
while I become nothing but whole.
..........................
Brian's Choice K Contest
"Another day, another dollar;
a day late and a dollar short."
Here summer comes early.
Mostly, it never really leaves.
Here there are fresh-faced
children -- but they will change.
Boys will ripen to close
copies of their fathers --
those many sullen somber
silent men. Girls will mimic
still their mothers, aging
early in summers' petulant,
pervasive, potent green.
Here hopeless men will not
expose, in words, their griefs --
since there will always be only
the harsh monotony of each
tomorrow's changeless green.
Around sun-reddened weary necks
hang heavy burdens, weighty worries
never lessened, the endless summer's
cruel paradox: how such paucity
of hopeful human spirit festers
in the midst of profligate abundance,
this all-enveloping, overgrowing green.
15.4
“You are not the body
You do not have a body
You neither do nor enjoy
You are Awareness only--the timeless Witness
You are free
Go in happiness”
15.5
“Attachment and aversion
are attributes of the mind
You are not the mind
You are Consciousness itself--
changeless, undivided, free
Go in happiness”
~~~~~~~~~~~
The verse is simple but its import deep
We read it again until its message does seep
Signalling that we surrender all we think we know
And begin experiencing life afresh in stillness slow
Not only this but who is the experiencer
If we be a witness then who is the doer
If we be not the body then we are also not the mind
We are not the identity going through the grind
Provisionally considering this hypothesis as a possibility
We try to find a way to determine its authenticity
The method is easy if we choose by simply rotating polarity
Of the mind body construct in easy geniality
Strange as though it may sound the truth is confirmed
In deep meditation the formlessness of our awareness is discerned
We are as one with the Universe in the boundless ocean of oneness
Although when back to duality we do feel separateness
Yes we are the witness as observing simply looking
At images upon earth wherein we too are breathing
In but not of the world we are at nonchalant ease
Allowing the Divine to unfold life as It does please
We are as such unfettered & free flowing
Unclingingly embracing-imbibing-releasing
Along with this orientation comes a continuum of bliss
We feel aligned and centred within with nothing amiss
Momentum of our past may yet bring about some oscillation
We witness that too in undiminished elation
We are indeed both happy as well as free
With childlike exuberance going about in glee
In continuity
16-December-2020
With presumptions, not truth
Searching through our youth
We thought the crystal world would splinter
Into iridescent fragments
And spin us dizzily far into space
to face what might be emptiness
So naively formed, was innocence
We vainly sought with logic's eyes,
a dream to make us come alive
From thoughts we shaped from small cocoons
We leaned against the wind
and let it scoop us up too high
reshape our words, and let them fly
We hoped to toss them where they could
and resolve the problems of the world
....
From all the thoughts we sought to claim
Were we so ignorant of what is real?
What determines how stars will swing
Or how an eagle's wing, remote and sure
Can bring strange longing to the mind
Where power beyond the known is ours
to seek and find and come of age
How long we stood, and now remember
How changeless is a planet's power
Glimmering in search of answers
And still not wringing the answers from the slightest sound
.........
Unfair and changeless time: forerunner of fright...
why do your hasty minutes refuse to slow down
as the oscillating pendulum of the ticking clock?
oh,time,accelerate our vigor: let us catch on!
When we are positively young and extremely strong;
when we physical beauty,and search for glory:
we don't notice how
time is spent or spaced out!
When we have strenght and demonstrate aggressiveness;
when we display pride and eagerness:
living seems much too beautiful!
And we wouldn't want to miss the excitement,
but wouldn't wish to know any sorrow...
to bring it to mind later: it's so unthinkable!
Unfair and changeless time: brutal and wise...
why do you race without visibility?
Just when we are into the age of exploring arousal;
when we permit our passions control us:
to prove women our masculinity!
Oh,time, we emit a need for stillness,
sentiment and contentment...
for wanting this satiable accomplshment!
And it shouldn't matter if after we'll be
deprive of any,or all!
“You may say that I’m a dreamer”,
With such presumption in my youth
Beyond school age, yet hardly saged
I hoped to use my wits to change the world…
I dreamed I would…I dreamed I could…
I declared to fight, what seemed so right
With eager zeal, I leaned so hard against the wind
The breeze just caught my spouted words
And tossed them where it would
I feared my crystal world would splinter
Would shatter without my spin...
"Never knowing who to cling to,
when the rain set in”
But that was then…
So naively in my eagerness
I hoped to see a world at peace
Hoping my dreams would come alive
From thoughts I shaped on winsome days
Imagining, ….if you please …"It doesn't have to be that way!"
But now with logic’s eyes, I do recall, and tears well up....and fall
my tears well up ....and fall....
How changeless is a planet
Glimmering in search of answers
And still not wringing answers from the slightest sound
And words I held, with vigorous shape
And hopes expressed, my look for guidance…
Are uttered now, by younger voices…
“I’m dreamin’ again, like I’ve always done, and way down low, I know”…
my tears well up.....and fall.....
“My words like silent raindrops fell,
and echoed in the wells of silence”
my tears well up......and fall.....
~
_________________________________________________________________
Inspired by Tracie's Contest: "Sing A Song"
Lyrics From John Lenno--“Imagine”
Elton John--“Candle in the Wind”
Jim Croce--“It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way”
Norah Jones--“The Prettiest Thing”
Simon and Garfunkle-- “Sound of Silence”
The Nature of Reality,
Or limitless sphere of space
Manifest in all possible experience,
Is by nature beyond experience
Since in this space there is ultimately
Nothing to grasp, and no grasper.
Sure, we can describe it,
But that is based on either hearsay
Or a direct realization beyond description,
Like trying to describe honey
To someone who has never known sweetness.
With the kicker being that we
Have always been the honeybee.
And so people talk, poets sing, and sages
Converse with the wind or simply grin.
The effect is everyone
Ends up hearing what they want to hear,
Each of us only able to hear
What we are ready to hear,
And even then we may only be ready for a hint
Of what will one day be obvious.
The Nature of Reality
Is unchanging, and so is always
What it has and will be,
And yet we change within this empty sphere,
Like a caterpillar, consuming voraciously
Until we are ready for our metamorphosis.
(9/27/25)
The Lies of Divorce
The truth of facts,
lost over time,
by the deceit of repetitive
misstatements...
also known as; lies.
He put me on the ground.
He yelled at me.
Yet, I am the one at fault.
Our daughter believes,
all she was taught,
at the foot and knee of a mirror.
The greater the enhanced
recognition of his implied power,
the overall tolerance
for things spoken incorrectly
at first,
while drifting into
complete darkness at whim.
He took his son's blanket,
in the parking lot and laughed.
He took his crayons,
and threw them into the fire.
Just to watch the colors,
melt and burn together,
while the screams of the innocent,
sang...
The depths of your unconscious actions,
are only ever so much lower,
nearly unmeasured.
Hate was your mantra,
a game played with the lives of our children,
still echoing into their patterns,
set to be changeless.
The truth ever grows in a place,
watered daily, and given prayer.
The form of which takes hope,
to a new realm,
that can not be shattered,
or stolen.
The jig you follow,
up and down, a puppet on a string,
for a darker thing.
I pity your displacement,
of what is important,
to the world...
inclusive of all that has life,
and will continue to breathe.
Let me read this to you...
as I know that will fire the flame.
Let me speak it clearly,
so there is no shame.
I forgive you.