Long Crags Poems
Long Crags Poems. Below are the most popular long Crags by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crags poems by poem length and keyword.
I see the green of the desert
That overcomes the brown -
Clinging to ground and water -
And with gentle affection -
It might reveal some color
Like a yellow persuasion.
I feel the fermenting sun
Calling out the vultures
That fly with a heart of one.
I sense the black jaguar’s stare -
Eyes that have a thirst for blood
And those teeth - a gnashing lair.
I smell blood in the wind
When death captures its prey
And in birth when life tries again.
I hear the cicadas’ buzz
Drowning in humidity
As thunderheads growl above.
I spy the purple mountains
Blending in with their shadows -
Not knowing where either begin.
They tempt my spirit below
To their crags and lonely peaks -
To secret places I know.
As a weary rambler, I'm nearby and resting.
With arousing, he grasps his ecstatic settling.
His withered bones are currently lively.
It's been done multiple times formerly.
Bequests themselves with musings to meditate.
His danger is gone, and his agony is replete.
The burning sun won't be a fount of hotness.
He won't be lashed by calamitous distress.
A corona of splendid cosmic stars hedges me.
With the coziness of the moon mirrored body.
Inevitably my bewitching will be what I imply.
To assist me with the drudgery of the next workday.
My feet cannot scrutinize any fierce pebble.
Neither stump nor crags can induce him to tumble.
He says farewell to all his distress and dread.
It propounds that you may now sleep in embed.
How I crave a sight that all linger fine worldly.
Moreover, follow the flawless angels in the sky.
Slumber of this body will be a peaceful freeman.
I will never shed another tear in my life again.
You can hunt down such endless glees outside.
The ear tuned, as yet the speech snide.
Oh my God, prepare me for what is to come.
As the well runs dry, I truly hope to bore some.
Written: November 24, 2021
''W'' New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Few are blessed with albatross wings
to glide high above the toothy surf
to soothe the cliffs that yearn to sing
in granite tones of golden destiny.
Some are born with burning stumps,
prone to dream... never to shadow suns.
They cling to icy crags and siren tones,
stumbling on drunken cliffs above bloody shoals.
Others are born void of most everything...
say for pearled hearts and hungry beaks.
Gazing out toward indifferent skies,
awaiting silver miracles that drift on by...on by.
A few are never meant to breathe at all.
Briefly tumbling in the throat of violent squall.
wee flakes on glacial lakes of bluing memory
few are charmed with albatross wings.
My beloved is the vision of excellence
therefore the peoples praise him
He commands the turbulent winds
the very seas raging calms before him
He turns the earth and shapes the mountains spine
where the eagles nest amongst the crags
Nature itself exalts in his presence
in rhythmic dances of boundless joy
the threads of life resonate with his song
a symphony of perpetual gladness
Our hearts wax full of loves expressions
to draw from the depths
the purified waters of life
Come my Beloved let us partake
the table that has been prepared
which overflows with the riches
of every pleasant pursuit we can treasure
Let us follow in hot pursuit
of the designs created by and for love
the exquisite wealth which enrich's all those hearts
prepared to enter into the chambers
of ever lasting joy
All that he embraces becomes fully vibrantly alive
you are praiseworthy oh my Beloved
the strength of your arms support me
like armour your love is a shield
you are the pillars of my refuge
None can contest your brightness
as a candle is dim to the sun
nothing is hidden in the presence of your light
And so my Beloved are those compared to you
You have shared the secrets of the hidden pearls
masterful the crafting of all your gems
The treasures you have shared are beyond number
they fill every room in the house of God
held in deposit for all those loving you
I have made my search among your rooms
no one contains a flaw ...
their chambers hold the finest articles
Royal robes and majestic diadems
They are full up with treasures
not one thing is missing among them
They are all together desirable
and worthy of presentation to the King
Your promises are sure and without failure
Your words are always true
no lie can be found among them
they are as sure as the law constructed
to house the cosmos
My heart is a furnace and you
oh my Beloved are it's flame
COPYRIGHT © 2014 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
"free from conditioned belief
no agenda on our shelf
vibrant as the light of Self
life flows on all by itself”
- Unseeking Seeker
All I wish is to be my genuine self
Free of all agenda, unshackled and free,
And flowing like a winding river
Over shoals, crags and boulders,
Carving its slithering way to the destination,
Until it merges with the mighty ocean.
There’s so much freedom in my roaming.
I don’t have to put on appearances,
Or don a mask, but be original
No agenda to follow, no canons to obey
I can live listening to the gentle dictates of my soul
Guided by the inner light burning in me
Glowing like a lamp in the night
With the oil, poured to feed on.
Retain my natural state without embellishments
Experience the unadulterated joy of being me
Renewing now and then, leaving aside
Old conformities like the sloughed skin of a snake.
I don’t have any deadlines to meet.
Like a square peg in a round hole,
I don’t have to struggle to fit in,
But accepting myself as I am.
I want to travel light, never letting the weight,
Of the world hang heavy on my shoulders.
I don’t desire for any laurels or badges
I don’t wish to fall victim to the numbing
Or dumbing cravings for power, wealth or fame
Never allow any hankering that plagues the soul
And muddle the mind with a desire to see my name
Placed in the list of victors of the world.
All I wish is to build bridges between man and man
Speak the language that connects one to the other
See everything as God’s gift and thank Him for it.
Love, laugh, live and let live, cherishing myself and others!
Wild Irish sea pounds spray ashore,
its white teeth gnaw the stone down,
each tide returns, bites as before
wearing away the brown cliffs.
The wind flattens salted bluegrass,
while gulls wheel up in the sky
soaring as on an overpass
hang gliding over the crags.
Breaking waves surge up the sandstone
Falling back as white foam veils
stroking the old wounds to atone
for the endless scouring blows.
The strong swells drum through sea caverns,
blow-holes spray up in the sky
bringing cheers to seaside taverns
for the pipe, fiddle, drum songs.
Irish seals dive through kelp seaweed
silver backs, flash through foam spray,
twisting and turning at high-speed
laughing at angry sea grasps.
O Irish sea, carve deep tonight,
let your foam and surge shape me
for rugged crags are a highlight
on our weathered skin and shores.
O Irish sea, carve deep tonight,
let your foam and surge shape me
for rugged crags are a highlight
on our weathered skin and shores.
She was born straddling a pair of ruby-eyed dice
weaned on black alleys and salty blue smiles-
Wild cat coaxing greenbacks from denim-lined crags
riding hard-driving far-diving high-screaming brass-
Climbing steely mountains capped with pyrite hearts
she thanked a lost lord for tears that didn't glow in the dark-
For a time, she walked for miles along sunlit paths
which demanded pinches of patience and flakes of faith
neither of which her dream catcher could ever catch-
She died alone draped across a bent bottle cap thrown
trilobites and mad dogs marched out her Marlboro red throat-
Leaving stiletto scars on virgin faces of hope and eternity
that creamy queen of damnation with cherry-stained knees-
(2008)
Smiles and blooms have crawled away in haste;
Cool sweetness and incense of the prime
Have receded into the pothole of time
With the irritant summer and the rainy waste ;
Winter is an epitome of the silent knell --
Pale , pensive, plaintive, heavy and cold ;
Colours are all lost in the grey fold,
With the bright charm of the bygone spell ,
As she sits robed in ashen attire again ,
Streching herself with limbs wide across
The deceased crags and the patchy moss ,
Lining randomly along the sickly plain
Weary, withering, wany life and all. ..
Are thus sadly shrouded in the last fall..!
Stone Spires
Stone cathedral spires rise
Sharply
From freely flowing waters
Birthing rebirth -
Lifting up unto the eternal
A psalm
A canticle
To celebrate the seasons;
Singing celebration in Heaven's waiting ears;
Reaching down to lift up
Majestic mountain praise
Through hallowed red rock halls
With lyrics of the hawk
And meadowlark -
Walls decorated by leafy banners in many hues
Of whispering
Aspen leaves
Fluttering in perpetual praise
Robed in crystal cleansing rains;
No prodigal peaks
Sneaking away
From the thanksgiving song
As rounded stepping-stones welcome enter
To capture adoration
With stars that glitter -
Celestial fugitives -
Chanting formed
By melody
Heard from lofts of crags
Exalting,
Highland descants
Following the harmonies
Of renewing waters
Sounding then resounding,
Call and respond,
Captured then released
Vibrating through the sanctuary stones;
Worship choruses,
Breathes with the breathless
Waiting
For a cradle song,
- Vitality renewing -
In newborn cathedral strains
Rising up
On wings
Of stirring sunlight
Matins
A cosmic shimmer
Awakening
An evensong
of waning light
Eternal beating
Rhyme
And
Rhythm
Stretching up
For majesty
Into a bottomless sky
Stanzas touching winter storms
Mantras tickling stars through moonlight
Pulsing through the flowing winds
And ever wending waters.
Ascending the mountaintop, drawn to the realm eagles glide,
With unfurled wings locked on a cruise, eyes glistening in the sun,
I heave over the crest of crags, my mind, on the dizzy brow,
Pulled by the dew, the sunbath, the soft echoes of rhythmic
Pitter-patter of dew drops, and the charming panorama.
Above the clouds, glossy dew dribbles calmly, chills summer,
Warms winter. Blooming flowers bow at the whiff of the wind.
Honey jets from hives like milk from udders of pampered flocks.
On the plane, my eyes stretch to where the sky embraces the sea—
Blue with blue in lovers' hug. I soak heaven's elixir!
Earth rumbles, jostles for breath, sinking in the mire of death.
I dread... no! Dare I think of the grumble, the jostling against
One another for what is not, what drains off like rain from a rock?
On the plane, I float with the clouds, tanning in the sun.
© 2015 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi