Long Circulating Poems

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


My Father

I believed you when you say u watch
Me grow.
Believe u say your the first person 
In this family.
Making me look up to be you
Days to come.

Believe you say will move nations 
Won't enter into all, at least fly over
Them.
Pride profound in all my nerves
Circulating all corners , narrating to 
Every creature how it will be.

Am broken and thrown against the 
Wall.
Every time you hasten like a lion that 
Is greedy of his prey.
Counter attacking the cell phone,

Believe you say its not worthy weeping,
Weeping, weeping is all I remain with 
Whenever you approach to leave us,
Fine , your a business man.
But we are far off crucial than that.

Believe you say you will watch me grow
And its the moment 
Your leaving us  for an argent business.
You have never observed my yearly 
Celebrations.

Wonder if, I ever mattered to you.
Wonder if  I will ever know love, love 
And laughter as a united family.
                                              Pett Ezra isaac


Premium Member Fort Myers Beach written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen

The tides began to roll in, 
around four a.m, all was silent.
as the stingrays gathered, 
constantly, circulating the giant 
snails, all the while the docks 
shuttered and bounced behind, 
the pier while morning shellers, 
held on to straw hats, while grabbing 
the daily news, from vendor stands, 
bicycles lined estero entrance way, 
the gallantly, glowing red sun, begin 
to rise, the gulf of grandeur, comes clearly
into view, over looking the Caribbean Sea,
colors begin exploding, igniting painted
walk ways, swinging gates, through 
brilliant chimes, creating tropical 
melodies, where butterflies dances, 
as reptiles wink, the pink flamingos, 
dip their feathers into cool teal waters, 
while sinking beaks into soft sands.
written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Form: Naat

Spirit In the Sun

I can feel my stomach growling and my spirit crawling
The pain in my back begins to grow and my heart begins to glow
The muscles in my chest are inflated, and my adrenaline starts to swim
Bitter tasting saliva is springing up in my mouth, and it makes me want to shout. 

Take a good look at the sky above you and the ocean dancing around the wind, observe the particle from my breath moving around the mill. It’s Sunday for heaven sake and nature is crying out at your gates, the sun is rising on top of the mountain and water is bashing against the makeshift door and the people are crying out for more .I gazed upon the distance sun and the rays running above, and the subtle message that lies beneath it’s telling me that destiny will soon be complete.

Something is moving up and down in my chest spewing venom in my flesh, and the fiddles on the violin is orating a sensational melody and punctuating a familiar rhythm. The air is circulating around and the wind is moving up and down   the town with a speed that has never been witness before. Everyone gathered around embracing the mystical wind
emboldened with a sense of dignity binding  them within.

The earth worms are creating havoc in my stomach, and I can hear my
own heart murmur,  it’s starvation and hunger  and fire is burning on the church  altar. They are filling up their pots and pans and spreading out the plates on table and playing merry go around in jacket and ties and slick gowns. They are waiting on the dinner prayer before they assemble for dinner.
			
There is a strong spirit in the sun moving around the earth, it embodied elements, and has a high impact on me and you. As water drains from the moon, the sun heat the earth, the wind supplies the energy, the fire wood cook the food, and the star is your guiding light .There is spirit in the sun.
Form: Narrative

Tsunami Sex Seen

quiet waves out at sea
deeply breathing in
sweeping out to shore

a frigate bird swells
a red neck sack hoping
to attract

a young buck
ruts and rattles
antlers with a tree

the earth shakes
a slight quake making
mounds ripple as if flesh

a slug barely seen
moving leaving
a slime trail behind

away from the pack
a wolf pees on a rock
marking his spot

a natural spring trickles
into a stream into
a brook that babbles

deep underneath steam
creates pressure for 
a geyser anytime to blow

the seagulls swarm knowing
krill will surface as 
my humpedback whale swallows

as the swallows and swifts
dart and dash to catch
an insect kiss

the snapping turtle's tongue
enlarges enticing to eat
the it beyond lips

now the ground grinds 
in time and rhythm
giving in to the given

harvest of the ripening
the time of 
mowing and moaning

needing be alone but us two
pants at our knees panting
barefoot stomping grapes

our toes turned purple circle
circulating gemini sixty nine
never having our fill we'll

turn our wheel
for ad infinitum
never spilling a drop

yet undulating waves
each ever passing to
create the one that washes

all
this
away
Form: Epic

Dying Innocence

A young crow carries them-
selves meticulously, screening 
their surroundings. Too wary 
to engage with others, but 
always so observant. 

A golden jewel shines in a
parking lot corner. Tempting 
the young crow’s eyes. Their 
bill clutches on, fragile by
nature, it breaks. 

Glass shards pierces their 
tongue, blood cascades on-
to the concrete as the jewel
dismantles. Remnants of a
once pretty rock remain. 

Lackluster caws transcends to
inconspicuous woes through
menacing thunder circulating 
the floaters, ignoring their 
cries.

Drizzles of rain deafening 
continuous yelp, a dash of
salt soaking their insides,  
their shadow scatters
far away.


Doom Bleeds and Fades

freedom lies with a shattered grace
stumbling toward atomic mythology
where answers have their sins washed
brilliantly bright as suns dyeing skin off-
colors of rumors circulating planets
of the universe pulled headlong into a night
-mare riding tattooed and complaining
about recollections of severed ghosts
(hiding in a ball of fear minds cry)

out of season the earth radiates melting
enraged stupidity the penultimate prize
(summer sunday christmas chimes)

on the edge of sleep falling awake...

ring the festival of blood into session
the birth-fangs grapple with truth no longer will 
recessions bring harvests the moon is full

...and the eye is a clogged vessel full of truth
(in relative position the evening twists elaborate
dances like guitars bending the last strings...)

a painting of a brain chips and disintegrates
like words of a schizophrenic seeking the last
wisdom hidden in the bottom of a noise 
only tasted...with the throat closing vision narrows...

the fading archetype is the last opiate of inspiration
the last leader is a shill of the lord of matter dissipating
(two raindrops collide) the core of her heart is hot
like earth it is revised toward oblivion...

...follow it it is
...night brighter than calm
...lipids sinking into servitude
...no one will digest this but all
choking dry paranoia on the fringe of town

(a different verb writes in the sky a new eternity)

...we witness the madness of a faceless doctor
scratching scripts illegible to the naked lie...

conscripted as a rat before a snake fighting its shadow
diving into the blind dream we call created angels
to save our skin from weeping generations of blood...
© Alex Roth  Create an image from this poem.

Spirit In the Sun

I can feel my stomach growling and my spirit crawling
The pain in my back begins to grow and my heart begins to glow
The muscles in my chest are inflated, and my Adrenalin starts to swim
Bitter tasting saliva is springing up in my mouth, and it makes me want to shout. 

Take a good look at the sky above you and the ocean dancing around the wind, observe the particle from my breath moving around the mill. It’s Sunday for heaven sake and nature is crying out at your gates, the sun is rising on top of the mountain and water is bashing against the makeshift door and the people are crying out for more .I gazed upon the distance sun and the rays running above, and the subtle message that lies beneath it’s telling me that destiny will soon be complete.

Something is moving up and down in my chest spewing venom in my flesh, and the fiddles on the violin is orating a sensational melody and punctuating a familiar rhythm. The air is circulating around and the wind is moving up and down   the town with a speed that has never been witness before. Everyone gathered around embracing the mystical wind
emboldened with a sense of dignity binding  them within.

The earth worms are creating havoc in my stomach, and I can hear my
own heart murmur,  it’s starvation and hunger  and fire is burning on the church  altar. They are filling up their pots and pans and spreading out the plates on table and playing merry go around in jacket and ties and slick gowns. They are waiting on the dinner prayer before they assemble for dinner.
			
There is a strong spirit in the sun moving around the earth, it embodied elements, and has a high impact on me and you. As water drains from the moon, the sun heat the earth, the wind supplies the energy, the fire wood cook the food, and the star is your guiding light .There is spirit in the sun.
Form: Narrative

It Doesn'T Smell Good

An awful stench  is circulating in the air
erupting dark clouds  everywhere
Rough waves moving backward
casting doubts and hammering fear 
Muddy water gushing down the dirty stream
disrupting and shaking the core of my dream
You brought me upon this corrupted earth
To suffer, endure pain and  eat dirt
I am feeling so ashamed
I doubt if I can rebound  again
The bricks are piling on top of each other
There is no way I can get it together
The boomerang is flying around
conquering its mission and fortifying ambition
Great God of the universe
Come minister to my bleeding soul
I am living but I am not living'
I am eating but I am not eating
I am speaking but I am not speaking
The wind has come to a standstill
It is sucking up all the energy from within
The trees watches in awe saggy leaves
broken branches  patronizing everyone
They are not swaying they are silently groaning
I am standing on the broken rock
which is about to collapse
The full moon has come and gone
leaving everyone in the dark
The werewolf has resurface again
leaving its impression deep in the clay
Short roads and long roads intercepts 
And a great burden is looming over my head
The river is running dry 
And residues are evident everywhere
I am walking carefully on the side but 
But I have just slipped into the mud again.

Sounds in the woods

I stopped by the park to have a slow and easy walk; I felt the fresh air blowing in my face and a positive energy circulating around the place as nature move seductively among the trees and the birds were flying with the breeze. I looked towards the skies of hope, to remove the residue of doubt, but something deep in the woods, a presence burning among the trees sucking all the energy from me. The yellow wasp and the honeybee are standing in the wilderness, waiting for thee, they have nest everywhere so be careful when you go there. I walk the park alone looking for a quiet place to roam, but deep down in the woods are mysteries that no one understood. Nature is free, but the animals and the insects are bothering me, they come from everywhere, with long beaks, big hooves, husky voices and fearful appearances, when you come in contacts with them at nights, they give you an awful fright, hooting and bleating lurks in the woods, crying and barking bellowed through the back door; the sound in the woods tangled in the bushes are intruding on your privacy and taking away your energy. There is a party at the park, so meet me before it gets dark; the sounds are intimidating, offensive and humiliating. You have got to clear the path so that visitors can feel confident after dark. This is the path to the sea, and you must weed out the track to communicate with thee. The track in the park will lead to the woods and disburse into place with many different faces. Sounds in the woods cannot be understood; if the barriers are there, it will take you a very long time to get there. Sounds in the woods are listening to you; sounds in the woods are telling you what to do.
                                                      Trust your own heart!
Form: Prose

Premium Member Alpha's Omega Passions

EarthMother recirculates red
and dark blue blood,
through sacred veins
and springing arterials
of integrity's compassion

Healing
wounding segregated pathologies
of death avoidance
is not life gracefully danced

When we
together
see Alphas 
StraightWhiteMale dominant
through every space
in timeless now

Circulating Anthropocene
patho-atheistic parching Earth
in Alpha taste
and RightWing touch
and LeftBrain see

Omega's green capital face
and organic viscera,
MeWe Janus de-polarized
feeling dizzy
with transgendered dissonance

Traumatized
by unsecretive eyes
for not-not shared objectives

With healthy words
usurped by straight
white anthro-engoddened men
no one dare name
or look upon
without shame,
monotheistic
punishing blame

Throughout our dynamic history
of multiculturally systemic
polytheistic
iconic
sacred becoming EarthTribes
continuously open
whole systemic filled
universal felt experience

Omega's tipping point
toward integral win/win
strategic green
bi-hemispherically balancing
co-messianic Spring i
New Year transitioning intelligence

Recirculating red
and dark blue blood,
through veins
and uprising Alpha arterials
of integrity's Omega 
autumnal 
replete compassion

Wintering climate
depleted dispassion
silently waiting
next season's green
return addiction,
summer's full climax
loving life
now sadly co-defeated.

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