Long Culminate Poems
Long Culminate Poems. Below are the most popular long Culminate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Culminate poems by poem length and keyword.
When our neighbor bought our country estate
One where daddy had worked with his might
Cutting down trees to heat the house at night
Where we slept without fright in a peaceful state
A place where we grew a garden without blight
And cows grazed the green pasture gaining weight
Also there was plenty of food upon our plate
And I struggled to do my school work right
Day after day everything was great
One day mom saw my brother the inmate at first light
On the chain gang, and the guard wasn't polite
Mom sent me to give him smokes wrapped lightweight
I hate with this story thoughts of me you'll rewrite
Life hands out hard lessons, seems to culminate
Life goes on steered by ordinary fate
But at times there are lustrous crystals so bright
Back to the beginning, we sold our farm estate
Life lived in peaceful childhood now uptight
Teen years hit, my body, soul, spirit took flight
Our neighbor burned the house, my mind did berate
How could he burn down the house our delight
Even though he bought on the sly at cut rate
Not wanting my dad to know who took the bait
Gone ~ our home, land turned to turkey farm outright
Based on some fact and some fiction...Life in a nutshell!
It was an old run down farm not an estate and we were poverty level only did not know it.
Contest: Enclosed Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Date written: March o3, 2019
Not sure about enclosed rhyme except that it is suppose to have this scheme:
ABBA....I switched through out to keep it interesting..
A Multitude of Notions
Subsonic phonic interference with my ailing mind
Bubonic pneumonic incoherence at the passing of these times
Hedonic tonic maladherence to the rules of constructed rhyme
Neurotic moronic disappearance of the complex and defined
Palentology and mysogony make for an unpleasant combination
Archeology and phenomenology predate the current conversation
Numerology and autonomy form a starstruck invocation
Epistemology and ideology culminate in complex connotations
Radiant cosmological constellations inspire wonder and awe
Gradient chronological extrapolations graphing out what all of this is for
Salient anatomical combinations leave the post surgical patient raw
Valiant ethological consternations distinguish the greedy from the poor
Astounded by the notion of another concept to illustrate
Confounded by the commotion of the latest political debate
Impounded by devotion to the church, leaders and state
Resounded by emotion as it begins to culminate
Anthropomorphic projections by an unusual mind
Isomorphic reflections on the state of all mankind
Nonmetaphoric infections that keep you humble and refined
Heteromorphic injections that leave you perpetually unkind
Illuminated thought forms streaming down from a twighlight sky
Communicated societal norms leaves the question firmly stated as why?
Automated technological reforms leaves the humans passing by
Captivated innocence is reborn as each man prepares to die
Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025
O, Villanelle Villanelle! Thou who rhymes
so well with “little bell,”—whose lines amount
to nineteen, a prime that works every time.
Thy two refrains permit no theft or crime,
yet throughout the end-rhymes repeat and count;
O, Villanelle Villanelle,—Thou who rhymes!
Rain or shine, in calm or tempestuous climes,
thy song swells and falls of its own account
to nineteen, a prime that works every time.
Thy grandioso tempos build and climb,
then culminate in the ending's dismount;
O, Villanelle Villanelle,—Thou who rhymes!
Thy strict form is not for all paradigms;
for everything's transacted less discount
by nineteen, a prime that works every time.
And when refrains together go sometimes,
thy chords take on a sound that's paramount;
O, Villanelle Villanelle,—Thou who rhymes
to nineteen, a prime that works every time!
And when refrains together go sometimes,
thine chords take on a sound that's paramount;
O, Villanelle Villanelle,—Thou who rhymes
to nineteen, a prime that works every time!
Written: September 11, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Don't fret, dear; let's wend off the strife,
Candor your winsome grace—embrace life.
With a smile—arouse your inner fire,
Ignite the magic; cater glamour to inspire.
Revamp your vibes—yield them to radiate,
With the incitement of compassion, illuminate.
Empower the night to be a canvas for our dance,
Culminate in a symphony of romance.
Desultory whispers—replenish the air,
As diaphanous souls entwine in a rhythm so rare.
The night comes alive with a dulcet melody,
As love's symphony apes, lights shine merrily.
Our souls are in a dalliance—a longing dance,
Bodies squirming, hearts fluttering, stance.
With every toast, zeal will appear,
Early dawdles are the dulcet music we hear.
As a beacon, your smile paves the way,
Honing my grasp, velvety as tunes, light as spray.
The sky is our gossamer, and the stars our harbinger,
As we swirl and spin to the beat of a cosmic arbiter.
Hearts mellifluously carol a saccharine song,
as the opulent moon dances and bears us along.
Every tread, every nudge, every glance,
Speaks volumes of passion in a pastiche dance.
Once again, dear, let's ravel in the heavenly night,
Bosom compassion; wend our spirits; bear flight.
A sumptuous moment, no quest to pretend,
Our hearts will carol—until the seraglio trend.
Seeing the spring flowers
with colors so intense and alive,
makes me praise their Creator even more;
amazed and breathless,
unable to find any imperfection
in all that lies under the infinite sky!
By the winding path, under a fluttering willow tree,
I sit down and begin my contemplation...
by admiring a beauty never seen,
hidden from me, who is too far from perfect!
If roses are prettier than teasels,
they, too, are plants that serve a true purpose;
and if the witch-hazels have only yellow flowers,
are they less valuable or useful than
the dandelions with notched leaves?
Wouldn't the jacarandas provide them shade
in those steaming afternoons, or shelter them when
an unexpected storm arrives?
Nothing is imperfect and useless,
if it was created by His divine hand;
the quatrefoils are as much admirable as
the sleek nodes found elsewhere!
Climbing the rough cliffs of mountains,
brings me a step closer to serenity...
where pine groves culminate in mystery,
as the purest spring refreshes me:
whenever the scorching sun dehydrates my rough lips;
and from an elevation that opens up to an entire valley,
I'm the smallest being with a probable fragility,
and being too far from perfect:
I become aware of every defect...
to realize that nobody has an invincible aspect!
If everything that's inexplicable and beautiful
excites me...to make me immensely grateful;
why wouldn't I be astonished and be elevated by sublime joy
anytime I witness the splendor of each sunrise:
when the eagles and seagulls flap their wings a thousands times...
to savor a freedom that allows them to emit a joyful cry?
And being so mortal and too far from perfect...
it doesn't mean I must live within a limit!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
What would happen in the absence of my presence? I directed my gaze towards her, resting my head on her lap, and met her eyes. The depths of my heart would consume itself, seeking to alleviate the anguish caused by separation. Subsequently, my mind would assume control, becoming the sole arbiter of all emotional experiences. It would sense a profound sense of betrayal and transmit this message to the cells, causing them to agitate restlessly, unsure of who would facilitate the circulation of blood through the vessels. With the heart absent, the mind irrational, the cells frenzied, and the nerves severed, it would only be a matter of time before a fleeting and ominous thought infiltrated, whispering catastrophic conclusions. The heart, unable to quicken its pace to instill fear, the nervous system incapable of perceiving pain, the mind preoccupied to the point of neglect, and the cells having identified the body as their adversary – all these factors would culminate in my loss of functionality. Ultimately, in my state of non-functionality, I would cease to exist.
Sphere of love
love as form stretches into visions everywhere,
when culminate to the love of formless sphere.
The world is the dreamers rainbow for sure,
miracles happen when you don’t need them anymore.
Space is born and may esteem to might,
Lovers have the honor to take that form to light.
Concealed in subtle desires and blind,
all reasons have a time and place to find.
Undeniable wondrous mind,
ageless images reawaken more or less as magic kind.
That formless space for all to face,
internal youth by itself to embrace.
How dare to venture,
when that space will enter.
Memories from similar spheres and circumstance,
threshold and doors of happenstance.
Created by generous nature to become aware,
divine synchronicity is taken care.
Patterns, changes with no name,
disguised, transformed and yet the same.
Timeless spheres explore the mysteries of evermore,
enchanted light shines through that door.
Luminous flame in dept of dreams,
that can divert all thoughts it seems.
The poet by the window is quiet amused,
observing eyes still confused.
Form, matter, time and place did join,
the love sanctuary as realm combine.
Embracing sphere no miracle at all to see,
when souls senses that sacred temper to be free.
The sensuous act is the muse of revelation,
when lights in melodic ecstasy are the sensation.
From whence doth evil come?
It erupts from the twisted bowels of hell
it roams and wanders, recklessly
throughout the landscape of the earth
creating moral chaos and hatred
blinding the eyes of godless men.
It captures cold hearts, hearts of stone
devoid of emotion, unstable minds
delusional and corrupt, lifeless
minds that become a breeding ground
for the schemes of the devil.
Wicked thoughts and dastardly deeds
ruminate and fester and quickly culminate
intent on carrying out an open grave
of disaster and destruction.
Evil looms, then strikes in an instant
a lone young man, creeping slyly into a school
slaying young innocents with his guns
a bloodbath of hatred, poison among the lilies.
Over and over again, too many times!
A crime and a shame, blight of madness!
No more should evil overtake the land
No more should a young life be snuffed out
Let the innocent ones have their tomorrows!
May the people rise up against this evil
this wicked spirit that destroys us
and take charge, demand a change
fight the enemy with petitions and prayer
and return our land to safety and peace again.
Written on 2/19/2018
Waving ocean in sphere of attraction in time,
cosmic fields by magical ecstasy beyond, as frame.
The long before remembered by spirit consciousness,
searching reasons flow in animated references.
Shadows by gravity rotate and turn worldly possessions,
into spiritual gain and endurance confessions.
Imperfect self lost in high waves of realities,
to realize divine perfections certainties.
The bending light through water drops reflections,
no shadow from the rainbow truths conceptions.
Love of form progressing to culminate,
in love of formless residence.
Matter of intuition conceived in reason,
testing the real from the false constitution.
The attraction towards nature’s disharmony,
fields of black matter to other dark fields eternally.
The Mystic phenomenon and wise conclusion,
point’s to the lack of general to know evolution.
Righteousness and essence of soul,
provider of blessings in the bowl.
Quantum fields of longing,
deprives the heart of its freedom coming.
The shadow field follows the bodies,
a matter of truth and all false stories.
Fields of false matter revealed,
unreal constitution for more to complete.
Indifference is the board and balanced ride,
curving weight to counteract gravity side.
Beyond the field of true goodness,
the frame of grace establishes,
matter of great trueness.
The Unforetold Truth
The Truce unclaimed is yearning
The Halo surrounded is hatful
The treasure unfound is slothful
The ink unused is fading
The forces unchallenged are daring
The stakes untaken are dilapidating
The cross unbeard is rightful
The characteristics unfeatured are deriding
The Chances non-formed are regretful
What do all these culminate to produce?
The Unforetold Truth
The knowledge present in everyday felicitations and adventures reborn
The Unforetold truce present in the lie conquered and disseminated
Where there is strength in bold and overridden fear
With success in the wind.