Long Coronal Poems
Long Coronal Poems. Below are the most popular long Coronal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Coronal poems by poem length and keyword.
When God spoke, "Let there be light,"
Nature's response was the Sun.
And in the farthest fringes
of dark space, galaxies spun.
Darkness concentrates shadows,
nothing is quite what it seems.
For yesterday's promises,
were scribbled on dying dreams.
Sol's golden rays of sunlight,
imbues magic to the Day.
And colors cottony clouds,
as Dawn chases Night away.
The Sun's coronal aura,
harbors hope's eternal spark.
And illuminating Day,
golden sunbeams pierce the dark.
We are creatures of sunlight,
that's why we love it so much.
And when basking in its rays,
our hearts revel in its touch.
in life i see
selfish people
as the most
wicked people
in this world
look around you
and tell me
if am lieing
a selfish man
never care
never have feeling
never have emotion
for others and
the worst leaders
u can have
is a selfish leaders
a contry with
selfish leaders
is equal to a dead
or failed contry,
in life I see
i asked too many question
why africans have a hard life
why we must fight too hard
to have basic need of life
while we have all it takes
to live beyond porverty
so many people
say to me dont
even worry or think about it
cos it will always be this
hard life way and can never change
but i disagree becos
i see my people
with a fighting spirit of survival
i see my people
pushing too close
to the promise land
but what i dont see
is a leader
i mean i dont
see a moses
to get my people
out of egpty(poverty)........
in life I see
all i see is selfish leaders
leaders that are
on a mission without a vission
leaveing the people with confussion
that why u see
all u see in africa today
also with the underground
work of the coronal masters
is funny how a blessed continent
like africa will be the
laughing stock
of the so called intelligent human
why on the street of africa
there are more poverty
than u can ever imagine
i always ask why?
also i wonder if there is a true leader without a selfish intrest in africa
why too many cry of the poor in africa
if we have true leaders
i also always ask
why the heartless
black politicians fail to understand
that the voice of the people
is the voice of GOD
why are they so blind to see the dieing talent....(youngblood)
that can help to improve
the living standard of africa
is funny cos i see
change comeiing soon
is funny that someone will ask how?
my reply to this fellow is simple the egyptians u see today
soon u shall see them no more
a metaphor
simple means that
in few years to come(no matter how long) the selfish leaders u see today will never exit no more it will be a history to my unborn kids.....
you doubt me then why is change the constant thing in life, GOD BLESS U,GOD BLESS AFRICA, PEACE.
3.
Or down yet another city street,
This Way down that grand Hiway,
That Third Eye opened:
Random patches of dandelion manifest,
Climbing the overgrown commons by the road;
Disappearing out of sight -
By the cracked, sun-blanched sidewalk;
Golden and deep emerald green dandelion
Over the smog-choked horizon.
Humanity on the brink,
Sliding down that proverbial 'slippery slope" -
To the proverbial abyss of our insouciance, to
Our bourgeois folly, infernal cruelty fed by witless greed,
The more mundane, mere surface of all things, as they may be.
But again, surely, this can't be all that is: So mean, so toxic.
Refreshed, one looks again, looks with eyes wide open with
New Saving Knowledge.
Now the patches of dandelion seem even more startlingly
Alive and vibrant.
They seem, somehow, almost "more real than real".
Illumined, they appear hyper-real, dazzlingly brilliant,
Appear preternatural, mesmerisingly coronal, and
Opulent, yet as though man-made, like ethereal origami,
Like the sun itself, another Saving "Point of Navigation" to
the Hidden Infinite Divine Source behind all things mundane.
*****
"Jesus said [to Judas Iscariot], 'Come and I will teach you ...
about a great realm and a boundlessness whose measure no angelic
race has comprehended. In it is the great Invisible Spirit ...'"
--- The Gospel of Judas 10: 1 - 5
"God is one's very 'own'. It is the eternal relationship. One realizes Him in
direct proportion to the intensity of one's feelings for Him. Don't be afraid.
Always remember that somebody is protecting you."
"He who is really anxious to cross the ocean of the material world will somehow break his bonds. No one can entangle him."
--- The Holy Mother, Sri Saradamani Devi, the divine consort of
Sri Ramakrishna
"Mary [Magdalene] said [to Jesus Christ], 'Lord, is there a place which [lacks truth]? The Lord said, "The place where I am not!'"
--- From the Dialogue of the Savior
"God is a dyer. As the good dyes, which are called 'true', dissolve with
the things dyed in them, so it is with those whom God has dyed. Since his dyes are immortal, they are immortal by means of his colors."
--- From the Gospel of Philip
(i.m. Kathleen Shaw)
The flower face of the sun bloomed on you,
the corona of light
easing the passage, caressing you.
Catwalking on the bright side of life;
the false jollity, aching to laugh.
Embraces, your body in a bowl of arms,
brave waves, the last goodbye.
My own desperate clutching, as if
I were a tree sucking at the sky.
The delicate frosting on my birthday cake -
a sugary irony.
How quickly the coronal of anniversary flowers
became a wreath.
Choking on the three hundred miles
to your resting place,
the car eating the road.
Tension-riddled, the family squabbles
snapped at the air.
Alone in the pristine, starched hotel room,
propped between pillow and sheet,
stiff as rigor mortis,
my eyes ploughing a newspaper,
thoughts turned introvert and febrile.
A white envelope holding the small silver gift
of your necklace, an oyster cradling its pearl.
Your gold ring playing its warmth
on my finger, thin and white,
the September sun shining in it.
A passion flower clinging to its wire hoop,
sweating out the fragrance of late summer.
Defiant and slightly shocking in my bright patchwork skirt;
a vibrant rainbow flying in the black leer of the cortège.
Your husband
easing the great weight of his grief with valium.
The voice of the vicar carrying,
stentorian, across the echoing expanse of church.
In your diaphanous dress you were a bride
embracing your bouquet -
the mourning arum's white head bowed.
Fine linen shrouding the table, pink curls of salmon,
water glasses floating their tiny icebergs.
Plumbing the depths of your wardrobe,
the outfits hanging limp as fish.
The room gasping in late sunlight,
heady with your Florentyna perfume and oxygen cylinders,
the light lying glassy and quiet.
Your loving memorabilia yielding to damp autumn earth.
My eyes opening to your immortality. An immortal truth.
“Ascension Bleeding”
In the Time of Great Sadness
a thunderous calling
resounds to
The All
Individually
like puzzle pieces
they are slowly
Connected
energetically
the truth experienced
no need for explanation
Internally
From within
they are for once truly feeling
the strange familiarity
of a childhood’s innocence
a once loved but lost
distant story
spreads its
new loving warmth
an alien thought,
this new conceptual
Being -
"They" transform to "Thee"
in this, their collective dream
Become Strong
as
The One
All Understanding
and holding a sceptre
bejewelled with
the hearts and minds
of each other
Love, Respect, Integrity
day by day
from within
the silence of fear
gradually
Becomes Sanctuary
The Time of Great Sadness
disappears
their hearts and minds
slowly unfurl like a
glistening
multi coloured
thousand petalled lotus
Knowledge Arrives
freed
from the clench fisted
Hearts and Minds of Man
in an eternal
formless spectrum of
Ultra Violet
Light
permeating all
from inside
the unified stem
outwards received
It has come from within
The One
is
Borne Again
Some kind
of
strange awakening
Ascension
is unexpectedly
delivered and worn
by that which is not seen
arriving not through
the type of clouds
they were all expecting
the robes
flowing over
and around
The Unexpected Crown
Coronal
Breath Taking
Feet bare, not walking
Ascension Bleeding
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Written: July 6th, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
*****************
Line of inquiry: fact or fiction? what does it mean in actuality, to be touched by spirit?
Syncing retains aurous, aglow affection,
Restore it, and be sure it fosters motivation.
Mountain spiral dynamics and wet reflection,
Glancing up at the stars, for ormolu connection.
My visceral Gaia is where you now dwell,
I am in the wisteria vicinity of your sacrum.
Given karma in our minds, let it beat as a drum,
Severed up and down, then split into shells.
Both male and female, Earth and heaven,
Oh, the saga of time we bore this burden.
Reinstate this vivisection, and complete the link!
Pouring myself into you is just what I think.
Tonight, I drew your kundalini awakening action,
Coronal crown does not lend to construction.
With this eye, I grasp the alabaster overcome,
The following day, as if it had already come.
A holy snake acts as a trumpet to our ears,
He wrangled himself into a marmoreal tip.
We also received our Pashmina chemistry strip,
What have we grown, crafting musical fears?
The water spring will quench my thirst,
I will recall the soliloquy, amethyst, of past burst.
The Sanskrit plexus will be toggled then,
With sapphire sepals pouring from heaven.
I will join the marigold glory with love,
Ancient Phoenix unleashes dark torques.
That it will uncover its solivagant way to storks,
Bringing seraphic peace to mankind from above.
Would you still love me
if I never tore you apart
Took off your face paint
Got under your skin
Looked behind those hazel eyes
Put you back together again
better than before
say you didn’t snore
Lie true my teeth
catching these words falling through my mind
Would you still love me if I never thought deep
Seen outside the cosmos
went back and forth through time
put it into rhyme
Walked across the face of the sun
dug into its core
Came back to earth in a coronal mass ejection
blacking out cities
sowing fields with magnetism
Would you still love me without my indignation
to question god
Why he needed man
was there even a plan
Tell him human intelligence is driving us mad
how I see an abstract shape of eternity
From my perspective
one where we never die
So would you still love me if I wasn’t a poet
No, you would tell me I’m a pain!
for going with the grain
not speaking out, or freaking out
Bowing my head, whilst closing my mind
pretending I’m blind
You love a man not a poet
I love you too
because unlike this
you just don’t crow it