Long Conceives Poems
Long Conceives Poems. Below are the most popular long Conceives by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conceives poems by poem length and keyword.
I died for beauty – twas my choice
To end my life this way;
In every note of her voice
Was universe at play:
Twas sparkling, shining, shimmering,
Twas elegant and bright,
In it the world was glimmering
As I then held her tight.
I died for beauty – as I did
My lifeforce to her went
And from the shackles it her freed
To live by her intent:
She needed lifeforce to be strong
And then to carry on
With universe to get along
And sing again her song.
I died for beauty, so it lives,
Is by me fertilized,
Shimmers and glimmers and conceives
And is now realized,
And though I died, what it gave birth
Was better than was I,
And now is set upon her course
To grow and multiply.
IDEA TRAPPERS
I take a semblance of a hen
A hen conceives an egg
And brings forth an egg
The conditions have to be right
Or else there could never be eggs or hens
If that be the end of a story
Even so
The hen after the pain of delivery
The hen does brood the eggs
In hunger and thirst
In patience and focus
And the fullness of time brings forth a son
Sons of chicken many stroll
Or else the story isn’t ending either
This analogy of an egg
Did come trotting in mine heart
That many a times
Elusive ideas do flicker
So does such an idea distantly faintly seem
Or else a trap of revelation waylay
As a bird afore a snare beckoning
A bird in a tinge
A forebode of a danger drifting
Looking this way and that way
And off it takes off
Even ideas too are wingy and windy
Else the story is being told
A good grasp of an idea is ideal indeed
Ideal for a capture embrace
Without grey
This is metaphorical
Hen brood eggs
And as so
An idea has to be conceived first
An idea has to be developed first
In ideal conditions
A seed will germinate
It will sprout and spur
The afore conditions is a pointer
To the futuristic vitality of a seed
And generations, perhaps
Capacity is a function of preparation
Science has it – nature abhors vacuum
And ideas to be generational
Have to face test of time
And as aforementioned
This is the said brooding of an egg by a hen
And many days fleet
In thirst and hunger
Implying determined sacrifice
For a good many
Having skipped a vital phase as it is
Seclusion it is
Or quietness let’s say
Find themselves enmeshed in quagmire
Dire frustration and loss of direction
And speeding drags the victim deeper afar
In the mire of doubts and apathy
When good ideas fall in ideal soils
Is there assurance of a generation to ensue
And vast forest there lay
And many chicken and hens perhaps…
Stream of Karnafully river flowing in calm heart
No factory dust contaminating now its bard
I'm crossing the lane of flying birds, city to city
Everyday the sky forecasts death serials without key
Police stoppage for me, staying home alive safe first
But after crossing GEC circle thought I overcome virus
Oh, the pregnant body of wind conceives nCoV-19 well
Hearing the whistle the nose smells toxic odor of corpse
No pollution now in chaste body of nature
In reliefs allotment growing up thief character
More dead skeletons mountain of earth will kiss the sky
Maybe shocking tears of the river will hold obituaries eye
17.04.2020 (Chattogram City)
O child of stone, outcast, alone,
succumbing to desire.
Inside your chest, you’re sorely pressed,
assailed by a liar.
Do not believe the tales it weaves:
the lost, untethered heart.
Though it deceives, it silent grieves
the time it spends apart.
When realized, it bitter cries
for wounds it did impart,
and scarce conceives, much less receives
the grace of a fresh start.
But when it breaks, all of that ache,
like scales, just falls away.
A flood of tears, to be drawn near,
says what no words can say.
Your Father sates, and yet He waits
for you to freely turn.
Climb in his chair, incline your ear,
and hear what your soul yearns.
Child, fall asleep to rhythms deep:
a heart that fiercely burns.
Ah, to be blessed, and find the rest
your strivings never earned!
In the quiet whispers of the night,
Underneath the soft moonlight,
Two hearts dance in silent song,
In love's embrace, they belong.
Her eyes, they shine like the stars above,
Reflecting the depths of their mutual love.
His touch, as gentle as a summer breeze,
Brings her restless heart to ease.
Their souls, entwined in a lover's knot,
In each other, they've found what they sought.
A love so deep, so pure, so true,
A love that's vibrant in every hue.
Through trials and triumphs, through joy and pain,
Their love for each other remains the same.
For in each other, they've found their home,
In love's sweet poem, their hearts do roam.
In the hush of dawn, in the morning's glow,
Their love continues to grow.
With every sunrise, with every sunset,
A love they'll never forget.
In the dance of time, in the rhythm of years,
Through laughter and through tears,
Their love stands tall, their love endures,
A love that's beautifully pure.
So here's to love, to the melody it weaves,
To the magic that it conceives.
To the journey, to the dream,
To love, forever supreme.
I have longed for you my love
as committed the tanager to sing
my yearn to hear your voice
as watercourses the mountains spring
My joy leaps like the springbok
at the thought of coming home
the beating heart within my breast
hungers for you alone
When the snow and ice melts
beneath the suns warming heat
the earth without her radiance
what I am do you complete
The blossoms in the grasslands
in errand paint their every hue
when your loves my garment
there is nothing I can't do
The desert wind drives the sand
exposes parchment there below
nothing here satisfies my thirst
till you I will fully know
Lakes reservoir water drains
their brooks plunge unto the sea
desire is my own refrain
till when you live with me
When the molten lava flows
to torch all within its reach
the fire that burns within me
the ardor that did me breach
I cannot endure without you
you are the sinews to my bones
no cadence exists in music
without the ascend of tones
All that abides around me
might as well be dead
apart from your connection
lies lifeless thoughts ahead
I want to fly into your arms
as a bird glides to her nest
enclose myself in your embrace
and to there forever rest
I see with a heart of woman
for I know no other kind
the person you are consumes me
like you no other will I find
Every treasure buried deep in earth
every symphony of notes I hear
less than what conceives your worth
its ecstasy when you are near
source Song of Solomon
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
In the gentle sway of springtime’s bloom,
Whispers emerge from winter’s gloom,
Dew-kissed petals and new-born leaves,
Nature’s promise, as she conceives.
Summer arrives with a golden gleam,
Dancing shadows and sunlit dream,
Rivers shimmer, fields are green,
Life’s full force, vibrant and unseen.
Autumn paints with a brush so wide,
A tapestry of colors, in pride,
Crimson leaves and amber hue,
A final bow, before they're through.
Then winter's touch, so cool and still,
Covers earth with a frosty chill,
Bare trees stand, in moonlit nights,
Guarding secrets, in the starry lights.
Nature’s song, in seasons four,
A melody, forevermore,
Each change, a stanza, old yet new,
A timeless tale, forever true.
This tale is most unusual; you may not know it well.
Seems Judah got himself a wife; her name’s not in the tell.
He knew her and she bore three sons: Shelah, Onan, and Er.
Now Er was first, the oldest son, and Shelah, the younger.
Then Judah found a gal for Er; yes Tamar was his wife.
But Er was wicked in God’s sight, so God then took Er’s life.
Now custom said that Onan would for Er produce a son
So he took Tamar as his wife, but wouldn’t get her done.
For each time they were intimate, ’twas said he spilled his seed.
So God now put Onan to death, for evil was his deed.
So Judah promises Tamar Shelah will be her mate,
But he is not yet old enough, so she will have to wait.
The years go by, but Judah has not done that which he should,
So Tamar takes things in her hands to make sure that he would.
She covers up her face one day and sits out by the gate.
When Judah sees her sitting there, “A prostitute! That’s great!”
So they begin to bargain for his right to do his thing;
The price, a goat, collateral: his staff and signet ring.
And so then Judah lays with her, and right off, she conceives.
And then the widow returns home, continuing to grieve.
Well, Judah wants his signet back and sends the goat as pledged,
But none can find this prostitute of whom he has alleged.
When they report she can’t be found, then Judah shrugs it off,
“Just let her keep the signet ring; if word gets out, they’ll scoff.”
It seems that in a few short months, ’twas clear she was with child.
Judah demanded she be burned, a fact that’s pretty wild.
Okay for him to sleep around, but not her in her grief,
But even as they dragged her out, she worked out her relief.
“The man who got me in this way gave me this staff and ring.”
When Judah heard, he was ashamed; he knew her not again.
“For she’s more righteous than I am; I did not give my son.”
When Tamar finally gave birth, ’twas twins she had, not one.
And when the boys were born, she named them Zerah and Perez.
In Jesus’ family tree: Perez! Yes, that’s what Matthew says.
(from Genesis 38)
With your dad idling in a box stand for huge bucks.
Over time, you're fled with mates, proving plucks.
After all, swiftly, your kids start engaging in sport.
Over the eager mass, they may trap your caring snort.
The sensitive inner voice is voraciously unhappy.
A bird in an enclosure inside a parent's bravery!
It mused with sails when tackled with the ocean.
It stood back from the nest in awe for heaven.
It draped blaze in such a way to reach the moon.
And strayed the long-appreciated rules of the boon,
Also, hypothesize what our flawed eyes might follow.
From that ugly lofty position of vehement sorrow!
For the dirt's posterity, this is precisely madness.
To confide in ocean's furls their home excess.
We are thrust in the hardness of your wings.
Anyhow, the fore divided signs of airy plings.
If you're ripe to revere those who heaved you,
Besides, all other bodies sailing by your view,
And acclaim the person who conceives you from the void.
To arise as an idiosyncratic being, yet not decoyed.
Written: February 04, 2022
Encourage Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
a seed
sacrifices itself existence
to sprout a tree
silently
a womb
conceives an embryo
silently
it's a process of creation
but, if you cut the tree
if you kill the people
it will make noise
it's a process of destruction
-(said by the wise)
o dear Junoon
love is very painful
where hate is apparently beautiful
I know
you love the entire creations
if you want to enjoy your love
tears will make an ocean;
cause some of the creations allow you
where some of them disallow you;
but you necessitate endurance all
tolerate their likings, disliking, collaring out
cause your love for the equivalent
o dear Junoon
annihilate your biased intelligence,
eradicate your prejudiced belief,
don't make the hate an apron for your eternal soul,
make your extermination the virtuous path of love
know it that-
your love is your enlightening thought
where your love will be other's God,
your love is your death
where your love will be others life,
your love is your insight
where your love will others heavenly path
yes, o dear Junoon
annihilate yourself in pure love
to make the enlightened, united path
for the next coming fellow the bright
-July 05,2019 Chattogram