Long Cosmic Poems
Long Cosmic Poems. Below are the most popular long Cosmic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cosmic poems by poem length and keyword.
I am a faded footprint
dwelling in the abyss
of a long-forgotten masterpiece.
Sing me a lullaby
to wake me from slumber;
Lead me to the path
where only people in love go;
And I will waltz with you
Beneath the blue star.
Paint me an art of the unknown
of cosmic radiant hues,
And I will hang
a rainbow on your neck.
Write me a mystic poem
from your silent diary~
And I will transform,
from a faded footprint
to vibrant footprints
following yours.
4 July 2020
1ST PLACE
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW(4)any theme any form
Contest Judged: 7/4/2020 6:20:00 AM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand |
The Womb
Bouncing off the walls
From the womb, that sacred, secure, worm hiding place,
life’s human incubator, from which it will reach out to seek sight,
from the darkness of memories’ enormous, lost space
coming together from that place where the universes light
- cosmic consciousness – is, through life’s prisms, refracted
from its oneness into a coat of many colours reflected
into many dimensions, spread out as a person,
the personality we see in the mirror of reflection
-- that living entity, some parent’s son -
or in the mirrors, in the many faces that come before us,
is the life that comes to shed its light, it’s dark,
it’s gray and all else that exists in its every day,
that at times, is light, is bright or very stark.
From this life I see ?, but only see a spiral
- like that of a hypnotist’s wheel
or that form from the twilight zone -
going round and round until nothing.
Drawing one into, what never moves, it’s centre,
it’s illusion, it’s reality, a reality without height,
without any width , without any depth.
Its reality is to go around and around and around
like an album of various performers, on a turn table.
The essence, it’s life, the needle that flows across the surface,
grooved on its energy, now spent, as it, at end goes
nowhere, no further as it skips, jumps back a bit,
goes forth for a bit in static noise, in shades of gray,
on black vinyl to the very end and that my friend
is all that is left of my light of lights and that of my life.
Star Wars Lullaby
Sing to the skies a Star Wars lullaby
Stay clear of the pentagram and other unkind signs
That sway out there on waves of outer space
Fly to foreign planets, riding like a rhymer
Alive! Sailing on a solar wind in peace through time
Take guitar in hand, euphoric in the moment
With the other hand hold laser gun with beams of light
To fight the Imperial forces gathering
What will it be?
A rhymer knows just what to do and think
Should you shoot them?
Maybe wave a torch or magic wand
Strum them to death with music?
Lull them off to sleep with artistry and good looks?
A geek stumbles on the scene, thick black rimmed glasses on
Falls on cosmic tapestries to entice the enemy
He offers alternate solutions for the unwanted company
Extends his half eaten sandwich made of tuna
To the evil forces who reject his fishy lunch
And Darth Vader wants a ham…of course
Geeks read Tolkien to improve their minds
And prefer that to the dark side of the force
It would be an optical illusion to think otherwise
With or without geek glasses
Escaping on a wave of music at the speed of light
Is the clear choice to avoid a fight
The void is there, like a brother, to fill in noise and needs
Put out the torch and let the babies sleep
Rock the evil empire to its knees with lullabies and bombs
Set them on rockets to the deep beyond
Send them to oblivion with a song
Created on 11/14/14 for Cyndi MacMillan’s
“A WORD COLLAGE FOR CHAN HURST” Poetry Contest
Words used in poem: Euphoric, Star Wars, Tolkien, Guitar, Pentagram, Optical, Artistry, Brother, Geek, Torch, Alive, Rhymer
Take pity upon me, for my heart knows love unyet my hands feel not her skin.
My eyes gaze upon the starlit night sky, natural cosmic diamonds whose beauty is nothing compared to hers within.
We meet briefly every month, for those hours our hands entwine.
The night is paused and all is frozen, the nights stars forever continue to shine.
Woe is us for our lives can never merge, know that my love is with you and our light shines bright.
Dark are my days until those hours of light, when thy smile eclipses the beauty of a million nights of starlight.
When lives come together our book is written, who can know what story our love will write.
To say love is blind is to have never understood it, such madness and passion encapsulates thy sight.
We see such beauty when in love, our eyes are not blind as all colours can be seen.
My story is written and paths have been taken, my life is filled with tales of what could have been.
In the deep silence of my thoughts, where ideas float like leaves on a silver lake,
I feel my political opinions dancing on the edge of a dream of anarchy,
Not the anarchy of men with bombs and faces hidden in shadows, but that pure freedom,
Where control melts like snow under the spring sun, a place without chains and commands.
I wonder, in this stream of consciousness that flows like an endless river,
Why man dares to be master over other men, an unnatural mission,
For there is no job more unsuitable than to lead, to dictate,
And not one in a million has the grace for it, and even fewer those who ardently seek power.
I see how the desire for control rises like a storm over the fragile plains of the soul,
And how those who crave golden thrones are often the least suited to occupy them,
For true power is not measured in commands, but in the silent understanding of freedom,
In that anarchy of the heart where each finds their path without treading on the steps of others.
In this imagined world, where control vanishes like smoke in the clear morning,
People find their place not through imposition, but through the natural communion of spirits,
A symphony of souls singing together without a conductor, in cosmic harmony,
Where no one is master over another, but each is master of themselves, in a dance of freedom.
And perhaps one day, when the chains of control crumble under the weight of their own futility,
We will see how the world transforms into a realm of limitless possibilities,
Where each step is guided not by force, but by the inner desire to explore the infinite,
And then, in that blessed anarchy, we will discover our true nature.
The Warmth of Our True Love
The warmth of our true love is forever,
As we walk hand-in-hand in God’s bright light.
Our love is God’s gift and shall leave us never.
We know dear one our love always feels right,
As we savor all of this emotion;
As we walk hand-in-hand in God’s bright light.
Our desire is a magical potion
Of heavenly force and cosmic power,
As we savor all of this emotion.
This is our love’s ecstasy and the hour,
We find our destiny and feel God’s hand
Of heavenly force and cosmic power.
Love is God’s music in His angelic band;
Its divine nature touches our souls true.
We find our destiny and feel God’s hand.
God’s love for us binds us like cosmic glue;
Its divine nature touches our souls true.
The warmth of our true love is forever;
Our love is God’s gift and shall leave us never.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
July 23, 2015 (Terzanelle)
Elon Musk at 54
Under the sapphire sky, at fifty-four enchanted dawns,
a dreamer weaves his path among constellations of desires,
from the ashes of Pretoria, an ancestral fire ignites, calling us
to Mars, where stars weave promises of light.
With the hands of an alchemist and the soul of a wandering poet, he breaks the boundaries
of the old world, his mind cutting through dogmas like a silver sword,
sculpting new horizons, endlessly asking "Why?",
and the sky answers him with its deep silence, rockets dancing
where gravity loses its spell, and dreams fly free.
Tesla vibrates under his fingers like a harp of lightning,
an electric pulse traverses the universe, while Neuralink whispers:
"The mind is an epic code, and the world is an endless canvas."
On X, his voice thunders like an echo from the depths, a laugh and a cry,
fighting the shadows of bureaucracy, the dogmas that would pin him down.
No chain can bind him, nor fear of the infinite void,
he is a pilgrim of the cosmos, with a soul of fire that burns
with the desire to see beyond the horizon, to make humanity
multiplanetary, not just dust scattered in the cosmic wind.
At fifty-four stellar spirals, with eyes set upon the universe,
Musk becomes a beacon for those who dare to secretly dream,
from chaos and doubt, he builds a road to the future,
always asking "Why not now?" under the eternal sky of dreams.
Cube Girl
(Based on the same titled short story by me. It is not a true story so don’t be alarmed.)
I’m 19 and a woman in space
Meandering out for centuries
I fear there’s no way back
For sure I didn't get here alone
Most view me as a girl. They do not matter.
They have long since vanished in the winds of time
And with them all their kind
Folding them neatly into the fabric of existence
And kissing them good-bye
My sojourn out here eclipsed all other matters
Disconcerting things I can’t explain
Like being imprisoned as a cold dark cube
Is what I became, Is what I am
Who gets themselves in such a state?
This prevailing condition of not being myself
Preoccupies the immediacy of the moment
I must have fallen to sleep to turn into such a thing
My Breasts are hard. My nipples are soft but sore
But everything about me and within me is metallic
I have no interest in men or women or so I thought
My lower extremities are in a fever
In a liquefied state forever.
I must be coming down with something.
There is no training for such girl things out here I think
If there is anything to be done
It should be to keep myself occupied and quiet
No need to panic in deep space when in a cube state
Or is it cube shape?
Activities, hobbies, come to mind, to keep me sane.
Feelings keep me on edge out in the ends of space
Once there was a computer that made me feel at ease
It kept me balanced, at peace, like family
But then, there is no proof
I must have dreamed up humanity and machines
Perhaps I've always been a product of the stars
They gave me birth
I am their only child
Cosmic bodies rolling on the void
Not of this or any other world
I am cube girl
Life is diverse.
A multi-seeking mess.
The particle, the wave.
All at the same time.
The unity is the disunity.
The Big Brother black hole
At the center of it all,
Silently howling for more.
Where does it all go?
The grinding of wills.
A quiet simmer.
The tension in the laughter.
The release of joy.
The exhilaration of touch,
Skin to skin.
Planets smashing into each other.
Voices crashing,
Like tectonic plates beneath us.
The smile that wants to frown.
The joke that was never told.
Brand spanking new planets to mold.
As we watch space fold,
Dancing soul to soul,
In common cosmic reverence.
Upon her last sighs, she narrates cosmic
sagas flowing within poetic veins.
She still remembers
those idyllic evenings,
engrossed in raining confessions,
influenced by her shipwrecked heart,
expressing scarlet
sentiments that sail in silence,
across unruffled ink-stained waves,
amidst the endless oceans between
their untouched silhouettes.
Her every desire to reunite and
cast away midnight blues,
float within perfumed love notes
written by the silky seashore,
placed in crystalline bottles
of timeless lyrics,
that shall be carried through
estuaries that lead her
to his sacred island
with everlasting roses~
where pearlized shells reflect
saline left as tropical memories
of tomorrow with him by
her sun-kissed innocence.