Long Crossing over Poems
Long Crossing over Poems. Below are the most popular long Crossing over by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crossing over poems by poem length and keyword.
today too,
i am walking on a way that has no end
crossing over the threshold of skepticism
though i do not know exactly what i am looking for
water flows along the river
clouds scatter blown by the wind
seasons change their color with passing time
because i held a word ‘life’ tightly in my hand
i went with time hanging on the swinging pendulum
and as time flows the weight of life changed on each occasion
the word ‘life’ unknowingly slipped away
from my hand now stands on the roadside, dyed red
in the evening glow while gazing at; not today, not tomorrow
but miserable yesterdays.
Driving along
What's that I smell
The daily delight
Of the latest roadkill
From raccoons to possums
In this flattened cuisine
As vultures take lunches
On this finest of dining
Call us the critter getters
Crossing over our paths
Taking them out
As they scurry this way and that
From Bambi to Thumper
And all their forest friends
It does make you wonder
Who you'll run into next
We'll even take out the curious
Who wander on
To that portion of blacktop
To see what's going on
From teetotaling turtles
To slithering snakes
There's not a creature out there
That we won't pancake
So check out the roadkill
If there's still twitch after the thump
Hurry in back
And toss it into the trunk
Because down in the South
There ain't no one can say
That any of us country folk
Let a thing go to waste
Below the Mason Dixon line
If it's fresh enough
We'll take it home ya'll
And have it for lunch
As long as it's fried
There ain't a thing
With cheese grits on the side
That we won't eat
Freely You taught her, healed, saved from the tomb,
Miraculous blessings; you opened her womb
Free in Your promise to her, so enduring,
As meekly she brought You her ills, Your hands curing.
Freely she brought You her sorrows and tears,
You listened to her, crossing over the years.
You saw and collected the tears that we'd cried,
You brought beauty for ashes, those tears were all dried.
Freely You lived, Freely You died,
You saved us such pain when You bridged the divide.
You gave her a life through Your sweet healing breath.
You conquered her illness defeating cruel death.
Freely You sit at the right hand of God,
Yet walking among us, through trials we trod.
Gifts of life! Ransoms You paid at the cross,
Joyful our gains at Your pains and Your loss.
Freely, our King You'll return on White Steed
Together we'll fly to You, free, O' indeed!
And she with her children, and grandbabies too
Will worship and praise you rejoicing!
THANK YOU!!!
"If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed."
John 8:36
A seed carried by the wind, because it is spring,
thrusts out her tiny face from the soil where
she has landed in one moonless chilling night.
Her cherished desire had been buried
under the frozen hard wintry earth.
Now, surrounded by the clear and bright dewdrops
in the touch of gentle sunlight, as a red gorgeous flower
faced to the sky, it is in beautiful bloom on the tip of slender stem.
When the time of extravagance for the flower passes,
it fades away as a scentless corolla, and when time
buries the colorless petals in the forgotten star
on the other side of the moon, the flower returns
to the shaded corner where the wind stands still.
The face of earth is, before knowingly,
filled with glares of the scorching sun.
The flower, must, therefore, live through the days
under the burning sun as a leaf with never quenching thirst,
after climbing so many high and steep peaks,
after crossing over the lots of difficult ranges,
reddened in the glow of the setting sun,
becoming the piece of fallen withered leaf,
that rolls on the shriveling plains as a lonely wanderer.
Fish scale sequin
Burn unit skin
Glittering in the blister
DNA altered by radiations kiss
Chromosomes twisted like transistors
Sunlight falls around the sister
She hums her prayer in the morning dew
In gardens beyond the walls
Where patients cannot crawl
To puff on cigarettes
She walks the realm of the undead
The absent minded
The ones out of body
Floating between the wards
Geriatrics and psychiatry
Pop the pills and pray for peace
Luminal states glowing in the crease
She thinks that is where God might be
She waits with the diva in sequins
Burnt to the shins
Removed of all sins
The priest left hours past
She looks into the poor girls eyes
Waits for any sign
Lightning in the sky
Iris at night
Sleep too bright
But shepherds are rarely seen
In this quiet realm
Where the only sound
Is the beat of the machines
As they pump out the last signal
Total eclipse of the heart
Gone too soon
Never to part
Words recorded on rings
In ceremony
In spring
The world turns on a string
Cosmic and stretched thin
Will they remember
The summer of loves surrender
When the girl who came from the street
Died in the heat
Journalist captures the kiss
Riot in the street
Rue Misericorde
Mercy Street
Emergency needs
Nun closes the eye
Coins for the ferryman
Cross over the river
Cross to the sea
She gives the body to time
She leaves the bedside
The sequins fall to the floor
The diva has been here before
Forty hours in the sun
Eyes burned from the light
She saw it flicker
Saw it fade
Not ready to end the phase
The shift
The drift
The moment at the door
Three times knocking
She tries to see
Who answers the door
Who waits
Who wakes
Who stays
Who suffers the silence of remaining
She waits her turn
Spinning the wheels of fate
Dancing along the periphery
Of destiny
Is she the guide
Or the obstruction
Clear the channel
Empty the cell
This is the moment no one will tell
But she remains
To gather up the dust
When the moment is rust
An Ec Dote
All carbs on the table
hunger in the bank
More or less disabled
— nothing in the tank
**
To Simmer Or Boil
Poetry important
prose lesser so
Each word a keystone
to hold or let go
Nothing redundant
no fill in the stew
The meaning dependent
— on stirrings anew
**
Access Denied
Deaf to that ear
Blind to that eye
Numb to that touch
— senses denied
**
Morning Prayer
Conviction relighting
tomorrow’s lost candle ...
Through darkness and doubt
— indecision in flames
**
‘A View From The Bridge’
Lyrical playwright
tragedy staged
Actor’s harmonic
— script to betray
**
Uncomfortable Truth
I’m not
divorced ...
I’m just not married
— anymore
**
Piercing The Veil
Hearing it
clearly
Hearing it
plain
Goodbye
is what’s spoken
For all
— you can’t say
**
Crossing Over
Being different
to be different
creates more of the same
True genius
crossing over
redefining the game
When the road
takes a fork
most commonfolk choose
With the Sage
going straight
— indecision removed
**
Ergo Sum
Embracing
what’s presented
You become
— what you know
**
Fluid Contention
Whisky’s
for drinking
Water’s
— for fighting over
**
Reverso
So often ...
the dumber you act
— the smarter you think you are
**
To Forgive
You can’t rebuild
a friendship
by ignoring
what’s destroyed
You can’t forgive
injustice
with spite and hate
— deployed
**
Mea Culpability
You don’t have to
agree with me
But you’re responsible
— for your words
**
New Clothes For The Emperor
Sounding smart
over being smart
Dilettante’s pander
— with truth on parade
**
Rising Above
Consensus
on the chopping block
Contention
in the throes
King Solomon
denuding both
Dogmatic
— he bestows
(Dreamsleep: April, 2026)
Glancing down from breathless heights,
Amidst climey sighs,
The looming colossus awakens from slumber
And stretches across Thelwalls linear skies.
The hot engines hissing steam -
Recalled from fond memories long back -
Tumbling like huffing little rain clouds
Down from the lofty metal track;
Wherein brightly painted carriages:
The publicans daughter, the verger,
The magistrate, the chief executive -
Seated first class, all habitually sat.
Swift grandiose arches, a celebration
Trumpeting the artful masons cunning devise,
Boast loudly of the great towers
Parallelogram of terrific forces:
Crossing over in giant leaping strides.
Here below, like Hercules reclining,
The stoic gates of Latchfords black fortress locks
Lift to brace against the immense swell
Far and beyond the chimming remarks
Of Greenhalls absolute, mechanically proven,
Georgian bell;
When, ensconced within a purpose-built,
Purple brick tower:
Strikes the centuries old brewery clock
On the twelfth
Of every God given hour.
A rich bankers cantilever
Pushes doggedly against opposing, sheer,
Red Sandstone walls;
Again the mauve and azure rock pigeon claps...
And then...coo, coo, cooingly calls.
Dry buzzing heat blurs over
The hum of a high noons imcumbent midday;
The coup-de-gras scimitar wing stoops -
To fasten onto its slower-witted prey!
Steeped sides slipping amidst tumbling yellow
Gorse and sporadic flowers
Balk at the foreboding waters edge,
Where, over the denizens swirling bowers,
The resolute little rusting lugger,
Puffing and chugging,
relentlessly dredges and scours;
Churning the murky Eastham silts
That drab Manchester draw:
Into the vast hollowing quays
On beachless, concrete Salfords industrialized,
High-rise dockland shore.
Through the deepest part of the black
Channel
A salt grimed hulk smoothly slips...
Attached by a twisted hemp to the tugboat
That hauls the great ships.
Stirred by the bow waves
Flowing and ebbing like currents in time:
From the trough to the peak
The jettison and flotsam climbs -
Before succumbing to powerful undercurrents
Of irresistible designs!
Down an old, beaten path...
I do walk alone,
surrounded by Nature's majesty,
wrapped in its ever present glow;
the sun lights my way...brilliant beams from above.
The fallen, twisted branches on the ground,
reminders of battles nearly won, but lost;
a crumpled tree with its hollowed shell,
cries echoes of dreams and hardships
now forever ended.
The sound of rushing water pushes me ever forward...
my new destination;
the polished rocks are
the silent sentinels to the passing of time.
In the distance a small foot-bridge appears,
a crossing over;
a final look at Nature's bath...
of sky, of water, of beauty, of life.
I exclaim, "How lucky a man be in life,
when he finally sees his own old, beaten path."
Conation
Have you tilted the axis
on a new tomorrow
Have you changed with intention
— the direction of time
(The New Room: February, 2024)
Round Peg — Square Holes
The poetry of mathematics
— oxymoronic at best
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Robert The Bruce
War is won
before the first battle fought
Willful intention
the enemy caught
Decision a crossbow
empowered by choice
The spirit retracting
— a conquering voice
(Stonehenge: March, 1987)
Apate
Captive of emotion
— prisoner of deceit
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Crossing Over
Attending his own funeral
no tears were exchanged
No grieving or mourning
— but memory remained
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
In Memoriam
People won’t remember you
because of your money
The human spirit bereft
by your dollars in vain
History won’t revere you
because of your tokens
Your legacy built upon
— prescience ordained
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Blood Trail
Don’t get sucked into choosing
both sides are bad
The Left or the Right
their massages sad
The Right tries to promise
what Leftist’s sublate
Two sides to a trap
— where lies are the bait
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
“What Simple Folk Do …”
Only inside ordinary things
is the extraordinary released
Baptized new day after day
eternity unleashed
Only by embracing what’s common amongst us
as Arthur knew so well
Can we move on to where it starts
beyond heaven — beyond hell
(Memories Of Camelot: February, 2024)
Making Our Bed
The silence of death
lives in the future
Sleeping with memories
— of yesterday’s past
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Sometimes I like to go walking
In search of a quiet place
To free myself for a little while
From the entanglements of this race.
Occasionally, I find myself, running
In circles of modern-day-dreams;
Making ends meet in the fields or the streets
Is indubitably more difficult than it seems.
On the surface so simple and easy:
Do your duty and follow the crowd;
Be there on time and eventually you’ll find
Success, if you’re lucky somehow. Sometimes
I like to go walking
In search of a quiet place
Where trees grow high way up to the sky
And the winds pass gentle on my face. Still looking
Towards the illusively fading horizon ahead
Outward bound beauty beyond
Imagination’s Siren call I’m led.
Into the streets past cars and buses
Towards rivers wide with railroad trusses. Crossing over
Shore to shoreline, present to past,
Today, tomorrow, slow to fast. Following
That still small voice within, sometimes
I like to go walking now and then.