Long Definitions Poems
Long Definitions Poems. Below are the most popular long Definitions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Definitions poems by poem length and keyword.
UNDEFINED (a true story)
The morning after the total housefire, 52 years ago, when
the journalist asked the elderly man,
“How do you feel after this tragic, sudden death of your wife?”
I’d expected to hear a few sad words
in response to the intrusive question,
But his unforgettable answer changed my life,
As he stated, “I looked up ‘grief’ in the dictionary
and none of the definitions listed fit what I was feeling.”
In the on-screen, hanging silence
Created by his unexpected response,
The interview ended there, holding on to
a side shot of the old man backing away
— with his new weight from the loss
of home and wife…
As he shrugged his shoulders
While letting go a great sigh, and
To define in that last shown moment,
In universal body language,
The Un-knowing
That may wallow within us
Around our resignation to grow past difficult times,
To venture out again to
Places where things may lay as yet undefined
and, therefore, beyond control…
Where tears may for awhile be our sole recourse
To stand for the words of our sorrows
That we share kneeling in prayer for some
Divine guidance to face the further exigencies of life.
——————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 6/ 2024
.. . Expectation....Preoccupation.. Limitations. We all got these..... . . ....Perception...............Obsessions.......deceptions..... .everyone gives in to those...... ....
Possessions.. . .....Confessions.................Definitions....everyone wants those... Is this why everything seems to decompose .... There's a lesson here. I suppose .... We need to look to those that know.....learn live and adjust....and see how it goes.. Gotta remember how to trust.....instead of giving in to the sins of greed and lust........
.. .. . Expectations. ...Preoccupation .... Limitations........Everyone has some. . . ....Perceptions...obsession...........deceptions.....everyone lives with them........ ....
Possessions.. . .....Confessions............, ...Definitions.....everyone wants those... perceptions....Deception....everything seems to decompose .... There's a lesson here. I suppose ....
Need to remember our neighbor ....
Not always look at things as emotional labor.....and bad behavior....and remember to give......give love to the lord our savior.......Believe me our souls are in danger....things are gonna get stranger.. And stranger....and stranger
. . Expectations.....preoccupations ....Limitations.. Everyone has some. . . ....Perceptions....deceptions....obsessions..........everyone lives with them........ ....
Possessions.. . .....Confessions..................Definitions....everyone wants those... Is this why things decompose .... There's a lesson here. I suppose ....what do you....what do you propose ..I guess I'll have to wait and see how it goes
I speak to the skylights
of your tender soul
in formless forms
in eccentric accents
aching in aloneness...
when tragedies of footprints
remain a sculptured secret ~
like an untitled nightfall
dressed in denied definitions
avoiding the touch
of perception
for mindfulness mirrors
memories I hoard
within titanium trays
of masked melancholy…
but I long for you to wear
chronicles carved within
my cold conscience ~
a universe layered
with moulded memoirs
tell me how it feels
to be a beautiful burden
to the jinxed jewels
feasting upon
scrutinized skin of silence
skeletons of psyche ~
too complex
for concave light...
let me stay ~ stretched
in the still solitary sketch
of surrealism ...
I am not a vision
of gold and glitter
that wicked weavers
can materialize
but an unnamed sight ~
a breathing mystery
the eyes of unfelt dusk
fail to stroll through…
intoxicated on pain
~ an ecstasy etched through angst ~
to never be tamed
to never be told
July 31 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Isaiah 18-22
Key Verse – Isaiah 18:7 In that time shall the present be brought unto the LORD of hosts… to the place of the name of the LORD of hosts, the mount Zion.
PRAISE BE TO GOD WHO INVITES US
TO BRING A PRESENT UNTO HIM
Praise be to God for inviting us to bring a present unto Him while we:
Come to Him for restoration
Confess to Him with repentance
Consecrate to Him for our reformation
Call unto Him for revival and rejuvenation
Cleave to His righteousness as His redeemed
Isaiah 19:6 Praise be to Lord for letting us
return unto Him:
Trusting His instructions
Thanking His intercessions
Testifying about His information
Triumphing along His interactions
Teaching the influence of His impact
Isaiah 20:2 Praise be to the Saviour for
speaking unto us as He:
Leads us to His love
Lets us learn His lessons
Liberates us from lawlessness
Lights us up against lamentations
Lifts us to lean on Him, since He is our life
Isaiah 21:10 Praise be to the Creator
for letting us hear His truth toward our:
Declaration of His message with devotion
Delight as we deal with His mercy’s direction
Disclosure of His miracles with due discernment
Deeds for His mandate with diligence and determination
Discussion about His magnification devoid of doubtful definitions
Isaiah 22:17 Praise be to the Holy Spirit
for carrying us away from our:
Sinfulness toward His sanctifying specialty
Shyness so we can stand by His strengthening
Slothfulness as we shine to serve by His supervision
Selfishness to stay in His satisfaction for our selflessness
Sluggard system to seek stewardship-standard by His Scriptures. Amen!
July 31, 2024
That smile with those eyes all so bright,
the transparent soul with ropes of a kite.
Grace in artful hands and that erotic tiptoe,
sensuous words of wondering so.
Blessed time to foretell by pose in act,
when all men can feel free in fact.
Hymns, ohms and dance that never cease,
flowing silk in momentums grace of peace.
Incensed air in dusk of evening sky,
with a crisp tingling sense to spy.
Deep still to observe in that gilding stream,
her innocent meaning and playful teasing seem.
Sweet temptation and its shadows flying by,
racing temperature and startled eye.
Hearing your voice from other mental shore,
all fantasy and cold sweat no more.
Like the swell of some melodic song,
the smile of truth on my lips of being wrong.
The heart in dew of youth will steal,
leaving scars remembered long ago to heal.
In that smile, choices lighten up the heart,
horizons at shores of subtle definitions art.
They see my outline, never my core
A silhouette against their expectations.
Their whispers trail behind me like shadows,
Interpretations I never authorized.
I speak in colors they refuse to see,
My words are distorted through their clouded lens.
When I reach out, they flinch from phantom claws,
Reading threats into my outstretched hands.
I am tired of this constant translation,
Of shrinking myself to fit their narrow frame.
The wild truth of me beats against my ribs,
Demanding air, demanding space to grow.
Beyond these walls of judgment and assumption
Lies a world unmarked by their definitions.
I long to shed this skin of their perception,
To step outside and breathe without their gaze.
Not exile, but freedom that I seek
To be neither monster nor myth,
But simply myself, uninterpreted,
Authentic under an open sky.????????????????
Laminate
Plastic covered up definitions lip with profound mastic.
Layered lamella formed single filed lines separating life from death;
Held onto by paper thin adhesions.
Besides bungling up a perfectly fine bollix,
Laminate single handedly took arms up touching innocency.
Scrolls of past things are looked less upon;
By inclinations vestal eye, seen glimpsing beyond chaste.
Blind alley virtual figment reality innocuously engulfed—
Suppressed complimentary service accepts multiplied donators;
Final offers pickled debacle is utter intrinsic debasement.
One lamination, under God, with liberty and justice; For all…
| Laminate | IrOniC ZiNc 12-13-15 12:59am (ct)
When tongue is silent, but muse is chanting - that's poetry.
When we write what the heart has been asking - that's poetry.
As dawn's hues glisten golden rays, in blue, bronze, orange skies,
musings mirror daydreams, so enchanting - that's poetry.
Butterflies smooch cosmos, as bees sip on dahlias nectar.
Scents of deep red roses start enhancing - that's poetry.
Clement air pleasantly overwhelms with pleasures of love,
muse becomes a bard lost in romancing - that's poetry.
Mentality turns dark when clouds spread densely like ash smoke.
Scarlet ink screams tears to stop storms advancing - that's poetry.
In shades of loneliness, thoughts reach out to our loyal moon,
beneath her moonlight we sojourn, standing - that's poetry.
A heart is healed by spoken words composed with compassion.
Poets smile when they see sad lips laughing - that's poetry.
As sands of sorrow pause, soul glows like a million fireflies.
Nature's metaphors leave our pens dancing - that's poetry.
Stale ink dehydrates and thoughts become segments of cement,
mind is a machine, where words keep jamming - that's poetry.
Daylight or night, bed, bath or driving, lyricists inspired
by sunshine, snow or when rain is lashing - that's poetry.
Word weavers scribbling sonnets, free verse and poetic prose,
forming imagery instead of ranting - that's poetry
Silent One, writes to honour Rumi, Shakespeare and Wordsworth,
In hope my words will be everlasting - that's poetry.
The Silent One
29 August 2020
An example for the Ghazal contest.
This Ghazal has a two worded refrain. Slightly different in format to previous ghazal, I posted, called 'Only the moon understands.'
This one has 14 syllables each line.
There are different definitions for a Ghazal, and different interpretations of the from.
Ghazal poetry is poetry of longing. Traditionally, the ghazal tended to focus on unattainable love, often illicit, or sometimes on metaphysical questions. But, today, the ghazal has broadened to touch many types of longing and loss.
The ghazal is a form poem that uses the art of rhyme and repetition. As it is originally a Persian form and the Indian subcontinent, the refrain and rhyme can be lost when translated to English, as is the meter.
The Statue at the Crossroads of Cloud
We were frightened, two candles left standing in a southern wind,
we wept with tears of resin that washed nothing clean beneath the sky,
and stillness ran straight through us like water through a golden sieve,
while the road dissolved under our feet like the wax of a lonely dream.
You stood there humbled before a wave the moon had melted down,
a wave that had forgotten its own shore, a horse without its snow,
you were harsh with yourself, both the judge and the jailhouse at once,
and you caved in at the foundations like an altar bitten by ivy.
Yet still you kept trying to come, the way rain keeps looking for the sea,
with your footsteps of gentle ash on the staircases of the dream,
and I tore loose from the absurd unraveling like a bird
that flies with its own wing in its mouth — I left without ever leaving.
We both stayed on as a statue, two trees grown out of silence,
our roots braided together beneath a bridge that never was,
love unfulfilled, bread held in the hand until it turned to frost,
two voiceless lovers at the crossing of an old wayside stop.
That is how the tender love ended, struck by the thorn of the years,
by the winds that snap the mast clean off before the storm arrives,
by our staying far too long at that crossroads made of cloud,
where the last definitions of love ripened into bitter fruit.
What remains is glossy disillusion and long arcades of shiver,
forgettings that grow over our faces like moss on a cold stone,
and longing — a lantern burning in a house abandoned long ago,
burning in tears and in dreams, for a guest who is never coming.
Seems like advocates for cooperatively-invested dialogue
are concerned about indoor classroom experiences
that feel a lot more like debate
or merely academic,
detached,
cold analysis of win/lose evolutionary history,
in which might proves rightwing kleptocratic victories
while lefter democratic peace voices
fade into non-violent
non-verbal communications
just among our oh-so-tolerant lefty hugging selves.
I've been talking to our Faith Formation Director
about why Unitarian-Universalist Universities
are
and are not
appropriate educational dialogue multicultures
for any faith formation,
active hope reformation,
compassionate therapy development,
climate health rather than more climate pathology.
It seems that good faith formation
precludes bad lack of trust deformation,
disinformation,
egotistic debate cultures
where winners take all
and losers run off in search of some safer classroom.
For me,
outdoor classrooms feel safer
for win/win multicultural dialogue
between nutritionally communicating allies,
consuming and producing healthy natural elements
like richer soil,
cleaner water,
better air,
balanced ego/eco-systemic climates
where distinctions between wealth and health
are held collectively for further refinement,
and not hoarded autonomously
for further isolating definitions
into either-or thinking
without sufficient emotional intelligence
for both health and wealth of feeling.
Outdoor classrooms
endorse dialogue
about how ecology and theology,
like science and sentience
outside and inside,
refine good trusting faith formation together
more left and right hemispheric
rightwing and leftwing heuristic exploration
toward in-between mutually cooperative discovery
uncovery of win/win potentialities,
Rather than all that inside classroom
business as supremely left-hemisphere academic
egocentric
anthropocentric left v right debate
about whose cold calculating weapons
are best for overpowering warm organic tools
of Earth's most polycultural producing healthy wealth.
Reforming left and right hemispheric dialogue
feels better,
naturally and spiritually,
holistically and holonically;
outside ecological relationships
forming good faith
of and for inside theological compassion.