Long Conceivable Poems
Long Conceivable Poems. Below are the most popular long Conceivable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conceivable poems by poem length and keyword.
I've rented a room with a view
of a freshwater lake with a hue
Nature's deepest sparkling blue …
I've rented a room with a view
of a garden with every conceivable flower
whose scents grow more fragrant each hour
I've rented a room with a view
of stunning alabaster palaces
engraved with exquisite chalices
I've rented a room with a view
of a forest deep and enchanted
where gold and blue macaws are planted
In each room I've rented's a view
that elicits many an ah and an ooh
Yet I'd trade the whole lot of these views
~ for one more evening, my angel, with you
Our wants and needs
are a conceivable state of mind
where peace and tranquility saturate
like water, flowing to the shore
whether or not this desire is reached
spans the length of time
as a cherished goal
tethered to our soul
this dream that lies within
is unattainable...until
our dislikes are burned away
like so much rot
tossed into the flames of purification
and blown away
with the winds of our frailties
that flicker like fireflies
in the dark space of our heart
could that this flicker
become a bright sun
washing its beams across us
lighting our darkness
turning desire into reality
and heal our eternal illusion
dressed as a wandering wish
9/26/22
contest Desire and Aversion
sponsor Unseeking Seeker
may we wish that this flicker
Just when I thought, I was alone and so lost,
You came to live inside my heart, and paid for me the greatest cost,
Of all, and since then You never left my side no matter what I have done,
Or what in my life I've chosen to do.In my soul you shine like the sun
You're the the most wonderful thing that happened to me.You make me whole,
Without You to guide me I would be now in an empty darkened hole,
Without You by my side, this life would be so worthless and very mean,
Without You, my world would be so cruel and empty and so coldly grim.
I know that there's nobody like Him in the whole world, you see
He touches my heart and my soul,everyday, in every conceivable way,
He's made everything for me so completely brand-new, you see,
His sweet love fills the emptiness of my sinful soul, He sets me free.
His love is the greatest therapeutic healer that every man should know,
And without His Love and Grace there wouldn't be, any love left to show.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
November,19,2014
God was so pleased with his six days of creation
The seventh day He declared a day of rest
Bound to have some heavenly
Well-deserved relaxation
As soon as He woke up
He brewed a cup of java and
Set up his most comfy Adirondack chair
On his fluffiest favorite cloud
And so on this seventh day
A most magnificent morning unfolded
Watching from every conceivable angle
One glorious sunrise after another
By noon for Sunday brunch
God challenged his angels to make
The tallest fruit salad unimaginable
For a rendez-vous on the Hawaiian islands
The first summer games
Were held that very afternoon
Playful racing with dolphins
And swimming in the seven seas
Then dusk began to fall
All were cordially invited to board
The fabulous celestial party bus
For a ‘round the world premiere trip
Westbound capturing one endless sunset
For hours and hours of a colorful joyride
Ending with a final detour to the north
For a late night aurora borealis show
AP: 3rd place 2020
In our family circus
children old enough to be left alone
without a babysitter.
Can find lots of interesting ways
to have fun.
And this makes for a happy house hold.
But when parents return home,
They can't help noticing something is different.
It’s to quiet
and the kids didn't meet them at the door.
Act one starts like this.
All right! All of you get in here right now!
Who did this?
No matter how many kids you have.
You’ll always have one extra,
the one you can't see.
The one kids always blame
and he answers to the name of
(Not Me!)
Your kids make it plain as the crayon
writing on the living room wall.
the house is a mess,
the refrigerator is wide open,
the pudding and Popsicle are gone.
The dog is covered in shaving cream.
Kids being kids can get in trouble
In every conceivable way.
As your kids stand in front of you,
you can count the halos in the room.
And so, you repeat the question
I said who did this?
They sound like angels.
One at a time you hear
your children innocently say not me.
But as usual the first kid to speak up,
knows who did it.
You pull your little tattletale to the side,
and pay no attention as they start to cry.
Ratting out the little kid that you can't see.
The one kids blame
who answers to the name
(Not Me!)
Again no joy awaits me
after having known
how fate sways thoughts
and makes one surrender quickly
without any words of regret;
can one be persuaded with a threat?
Again no joy awaits me
after the deceitful lines are read:
would rebellion change anything?
Which is the strongest adversary:
destiny or death? Have you fought
with one of them without falling facedown?
Again no joy awaits me
after the lonely dreams
turned into complete dust
losing all their magic,
putting an end to another dream,
to all I deemed was conceivable!
Again no joy awaits me
after the crimson evening sets sky
and ocean aglow; how lonely
is the golden dandilions' field
resembling the soft hair of Angelica,
but more sorrowful is her grieving soul!
Written on 8/3/2020
Is there a purpose for struggling,
enduring trails that could be been avoided?
What motivates an individual to surpass
any conceivable limit to build a concept?
A normal person has less cares than a genius;
no passion for art or interest in science,
so aimless is that existence
resembling a shadow passing.
A philosopher once said that,
" All legends are made by dreams,
in which their heroes are immortalized,
but their inner voices are as faint
and distant as raging waterfalls
descending steeply to splash in rivers below;
and to hear them, you must get closer enough,
until their loud sound can deafen
the ears and astonish the eyes. "
Oh, I have contemplated them in sheer surprise!
Nobody ever sees a thinker's curved back
laying on the water-splashed, cracked rock;
if civilization has betrayed his idealistic thoughts,
accusing him of insanity and prejudice:
how can dark minds be lucid enough to discern
what he sees in images of true perfection?
And he will be another outcast detested by society
for having demonstrated a superior mentality?
Go to the highest hill, amid the rugged mountains
and find him in the same spot meditating
over a glorious view that only the believers admire;
go and comfort him with a friendly hand-shake,
and amply confirm that his action wasn't a mistake,
but a challenge and a cause worth-taking.
And his testimony, that all legends are made by dreams,
is found in his prophetic and exquisite writings.
Heaven awaits the saint,
Who loves God above all
Listening for His loving call
Following without complaint
When death’s grip has come
And I go to meet God’s Son
My journey will finally be done
Then all my pain will be numb
There won’t be any worries
Finally, all tears will be gone
God’s will can lead me on
Where there’s endless mercies
Angels will be praising God
And my voice will sing along
The light of love will be strong
Grace and mercy will applaud
I know this moment will happen
When every fear will disappear
To the Savior my heart will adhere
This heaven I can only imagine
On that day, I will know true joy
Feelings beyond all my dreams
So thankful that Jesus redeems
Knowing Him who could destroy
Blessed beyond what I deserve
Heaven is a promise I yearn for
God is the one whom I adore
With Him, I need not feel concern
In heaven, I don’t have any conceivable doubt
There will be praises beyond imagining
Praises to God for all that is happening
Up there, we’ll know what life has been about
“There is no one to understand and nothing, indeed, to be understood. I have no cause and no effect. How shall I say that I am conceivable or inconceivable? I am free from disease—my form has been extinguished.”
First we believe that we are this
feeble form, this body-mind,
then dwelling in heart we sense bliss,
a pulsation divine aligned.
With bliss in permanence ingrained,
the mind is instrumentalised,
whence beyond space-time, Self unstained,
as our essence is realised.
Ego squashed, Self alone remains,
as both the dreamer and the dreamed,
so once we are freed from thought chains,
suffused with bliss, we are redeemed.
Fals self gone, karmic bondage ends,
as we yet witness flow of life,
heartbeats God’s love and light defends,
our quintessence always bliss rife.
Who ever declared they cannot?
Is a full blown, liar I promise you.
In their lives, they failed at some task.
And now?
The unmitigated gall, to drag you
into heartbreak row?
Do not buy losers' stories!
To those with fortitude and gall ~comes
a different story.
One where there was loss and
then came glory.
I have experienced this myself
and know the joys of victory.
Odds are many poets are just like me.
Not weeping over lost loves with
a handkerchief under an old tree.
But finding new love, better than
they ever dreamed would be.
Their lives exceeded their original
schemes.
They go on and envision new dreams
Their truest friends stand by them
whilst their phony friends stroll so
casually and heartlessly away.
But, dear friends, know, please.
The dreamers will out do you in
every, conceivable way and with
the greatest possible ease!
GO DREAMERS!
November 9, 2019