Long Culminating Poems
Long Culminating Poems. Below are the most popular long Culminating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Culminating poems by poem length and keyword.
In a dream called passion
Ensconced in effervescent lingerings
sifting through moonlit seams
Soft flavored drippings of ecstasy
melting slowly within the fever
dancing across my skin
as your fingers trace
the outline of my deepest secrets,
mysteries lodged in seductive breaths
Sweet air murmurs in erotic whispers
Your love my opiate, addictive enchantment
Stimulated senses heightened
Sundrenched moans, silver lined
adrift on satin sighs
Floating delirious within
hallucinogenic eyes,
seducing my mind in eternal desires
Thoughts mingle in reflective desires
Trance infused emotions
cling to each nuance of mesmeric longings
Swirling smoke ringlets
penetrate whispering décolletage,
culminating in lustful motives
atop gilded sheets
immersed in our rapture,
etched in euphoria, drenched...
in a dream called passion
Good night Soupers
She enters carefully
A journey that began so long ago
Culminating on this threshold of discovery
With the turning of the knob, an old door, of peeling paint and squeaking hinge
The house, a derelict with broken shutters
Darkness, mold and gloom,...yet a pleasantness...a sense of familiarity
Floors that creak and groan
Surveying each room...gathering thoughts, sensations, emotions
Digesting the essence of stories told
Of sitting on a grandfather's knee, and hearing of this legacy
So long harbored, like faded photographs, in her heart
A glance outside the bay window
Pushing aside the cobweb laced shade
Rubbing dirt and grime from the glass, and viewing a river in the distance
A pasture overgrown with weeds
Gopher hills the only things sprouting in the yard
Flower beds empty, except for tendrils of devil grass..
Forsaken, abandoned it is today,...but she can picture it then...
She can see the geraniums in bloom as if it were yesterday
She walks the hallowed rooms imagining the family
The father coming in from the fields
Covered with the red soil that he cherished
The mother, apron clad, gathering her children
Yes....it is over there where they would sit...
Around the table, the Bible resting on the shelf
Waiting to be read by evening light
Just as the giant oak in the yard
That shouts and tussels with the wind
With deep roots which cling so intimate with the rock below
In this journey, she clings...
To things that are deeply rooted
Family, love, life, death, that which is...that which has been..
No longer are there only sepia colored stories
Stored in a shoe box on a closet shelf...
This is a journey that continues on and on...
And like the oak...it reaches deeply...searching for constancy
These are her roots...
___________________________________________________________________
Co-empathic passions
like hearts with flowers,
mothers with soft sunny spring shower days,
Develop interdependent webs
of both/and intimacy,
like bodies with loving minds
wrapped around loving partners
and cooperative vocational co-owners,
Regenerating love life
lived win/win optimally well,
like an organic ecofeminist farmer
dancing nutritional poetry in fertile field
re-membering heirloom beauties,
present cooperatively developing family,
present within seeds of future generations
and past polypathic nutrient nurturers,
enculturers of win/win multi-regenerational health.
Upon our ego deathbeds,
this great terminal either/or culminating identity event,
this both/and co-passioning quality opportunity
of left-mind's secularly embodied health
and right-mind's sacred wealth
reconnect with passionate interdependent Others
resiliently mattering most
both/and resonantly intelligent
within Earth's continuously emerging
win/win
health/wealth multiculturing opportunities,
Co-passions inviting imperatives
of flex-stretching both/and attachment
live better lives,
healthier inclusive loves.
Yet
capitalism and patriarchalism
learned by left-brain dominance
where balancing right-brain ecofeminist prominence
could better drive our co-passioning polypathic train
of historic healthing events,
In which win/lose capitalism
invites us to over-invest in ZeroSum competitions
for disempowering Other's co-passions,
rather than inviting reinvestment
in emotive connection,
ZeroSoul timeless inter-relationship
Despite epic nutritional growing years
of oxytocin both/and evolution
to relentlessly nature/spirit quest
yin-belonging
integral intimate organic connection webs,
While Yang's too-autonomous monoculturing supremacy
resists redefining wealthy people
as those healthy enough
to not need either/or left-dominant
ZeroSum ego-identified
anthropocentric predation over Others,
Building a dispassionate monoculture of either/or cognitive fundamentalism
is at radically compassionate both/and odds
with any interdependent organic multiculturing body/mind
secular-biological/sacred-ecological interdependent
EarthMothered identity.
Quietly I sit,
eyes trying to clear out the cobwebs of sleep.
Coffee, strong and dark in hand
I step silent through the yard
traversing the well worn paths I've laid,
my little dog at my side.
Footsteps fall, soft and unsteady
as I walk the perimeter of life
that is newly born and just a start to the season
and he, sniffs the air scented by the blossoms.
Red, pink, white roses slip from bud to flowers
basking in the early morning sun in sweet bouquets
warmed and watered by the humid air
following torrential rains and the chill it brought.
Pausing in strategicly placed chairs
I take it in, breathing deep the fragrance on the wind,
contemplating the years so quickly lost to time,
and the wonders I recall within their fading shadows.
How fleeting were the days, the weeks and years
now culminating here in complete satisfaction
knowing nothing can be undone
it is what it is, no redos.
Onto my lap, my dog jumps up
seeking attention from my distracted ponderances
a repetitious stroke upon his head is enough
and I am at peace with the time that is
waiting on the edge of forever.
This evening called passion
“Moonbeams now blushing ‘pon soft heavens ashen,
love flowing deeply, this evening called passion”
Ensconced in effervescent lingerings
sifting through moonlit seams
Soft flavored drippings of ecstasy
melting slowly within the fever
dancing across my skin
as your fingers trace
the outline of my deepest secrets,
mysteries lodged in seductive breaths
Your love my opiate, addictive enchantment
Stimulated senses heightened
Moon drenched quivers, silver lined
adrift on satin sighs
Floating delirious within
hypnotic eyes,
seducing my mind in eternal desires
Trance infused emotions
cling to each nuance of mesmeric longings
Swirling smoke ringlets
penetrate stardust cosmos,
culminating in sensual motions
atop gilded sheets
drenched of our rapture,
etched in euphoria
Two silhouettes entwined
on this evening called passion
Good night Soupers
Have a great weekend
See you on Monday
Prejudice, inferiority and abuse
maligned, hashtagged, and dogged
heels of peoples uprooted peoples
south of the equator, or elsewhere
whose epidermis strongly hinted
fifty plus shades of ebony.
They found themselves in debasement
within complex edifice housing
facade of equality
ofttimes receiving punishment
their sole supposed crime
accentuated, heightened, perpetrated
courtesy born swarthy complexion
even if prominent features
(think European) quite apparent.
Two hundred and thirty three months
into twenty first century
bias toward slave descendants
wracks western civilization in general,
and United States of America in particular
i.e. land of the free and the home of the brave
keynote doth ardently heard far and wide,
yet many nth generations removed
since slavery abolished
still remain shackled, especially
when men/women in blue
subject random person of color
to physical assault
frequently culminating with death
of falsely accused
whereby police person acquitted.
Day after day, week after week,
month after month... brutish and nasty
thuggish haughty uniformed cops
create deadly merciless altercations
begetting livid rage among populations
anonymous brethren beaten, shot, strangled...
ensuing hatred particularly endemic
within lower income poorer neighborhoods
where bedlam runs amok!
Treacherous drops, millions all at one time,
High and low, ferociously banging on tin rooftops
Unifying into ponds in deep crevices of grime,
Never ceasing to flood the farmers field of crops
Drenching everything in sight from daytime to nighttime
Eventually culminating with ferocious roars over mountaintops,
Raging across the sky while the flashing of electric light never stops.
Suddenly, as though by some invisible curtain,
The intoxicating, earthly aroma of rainfall gone,
Over downy clouds, blue skies decide to peek through for certain,
‘Round the treetops, chirping and singing carries on
Meanwhile the sun resumes its duty to shed its glow at dawn.
I spent all day shopping for a ruby,
it's my wife's birthstone; nothing else will do.
And I wish to find a true paragon,
though flawless rubies are scarce and few.
I'm hoping for a pigeon-blood red gem
that is as rare and unblemished as she.
And I checked each jewelry shop in town,
but that perfect jewel eluded me.
I was almost ready to give up, when
I spied a cabochon that caught my eye.
A magnificent, resplendent gemstone,
so exquisite, I couldn't pass it by.
Flickering fiery flames frozen in time,
rubies symbolize passionate feelings.
And imbue wearers with a zest for life,
granting favors in romantic dealings.
When I gave my wife the ruby, she wept
tears of joy and wrapped her arms around me.
And culminating with the sweetest kiss
fantasy morphed into reality.
(Quatrain)
07/06/2020
In Times Square, soon we'll observe a departing,
With a huge Crystal ball's culminating descent.
Millions will celebrate the New Year's starting,
While exiling, to our past, the one just spent.
With former things occupying our year departed,
Whether good, bad, of found settled in between.
They're gone, and future days, remain uncharted,
Let's endeavor to elevate beyond twenty-fourteen.
Make each day count, for something worthwhile,
Greater than observing the Sun's rising and set.
While the world about us is increasingly more vile,
Let this not determine us, adding to us, regret.
For God numbers days and discerns life's ending,
This year, let's not fill days, with wrong things.
While showing love to others, not condescending,
For judgment awaits when our death bell rings.
nHappy New Year 2015
Thick gravy mud incessantly pulling at my boots,
Sucking and squelching it’s distaste at its failure with each step I evade its clutches,
Brown hail flying in all directions ripping into flesh and taking eyes,
Ears reverberating with the excruciating din of falling shells,
Accompanied with the desperate screams of my comrades.
Like hells orchestra,
Low rumbles culminating in shrieking sopranos,
Piercing, Deafening,
It’s very lack of percussion spreads fear throughout the ranks,
Through it all there comes a sinister silence,
The true calm before the next storm,
Medics being screamed for in every direction,
Instructions being bellowed to grasp some pathetic sense of order,
In this chaotic pandemonium we push on without hope,
Following orders,
The crescendo of destruction starts again,
Louder, Angrier,
The poetic lunacy of dying in vain,
Our last moments played out like some poorly written depraved play,
Cannon fodder,
Our own remains serving as the uneven carpet of sickly maroon within our trench,
The smell so powerful that I baulk,
Eyes constantly stinging and streaming,
All my senses being flayed in unison,
This is the price we pay for your freedom,
This is the truth of what we endure,
So many deserving so much yet left with so little,
Lest we forget,
Lest we forget.
Lest we forget.