Long Dimensions Poems
Long Dimensions Poems. Below are the most popular long Dimensions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dimensions poems by poem length and keyword.
To say one has loved
but lost...is to say one
has never loved; for
love is a wonderful
stigmata – an indelible
pressed upon the heart
of eternity, out-shinning
all lesser lights, even
those of heaven’s brilliant
while implosive stars –
love not only standing the
tests of time, but those
lesions of dimensions
separating hearts from
their immortal soul-bodies
boastful science stumble
over while poets
loyally reveal –
One does not simply love
but, in fact, becomes love –
the Pure Substance and Will
of God seamlessly woven
throughout His Creation,
a stitch never dropped
nor hole ever manifest
needing mending….
The scientist may assert there is no God,
While the sunset fields bloom goldenrod;
Yet, report of mystery dimensions unseen,
And multiverse based on vibrating strings!
But real proof of God rests in the heart.
If faith is genuine, He will never depart;
Like a return of cherry blooms each spring,
And as each Sunday morn heralds the King!
Science and our God can coexist in harmony,
Since anyhow, that's the way it seems to be,
Like nightingale senses the time for dreams,
And buttercups seem to thrive on sunbeams!
A big bang once came with a very big boom,
And is still scattering rose petals of June!
A red, red apple yet has traces of the fire,
That could've ended in pointless quagmire.
The devout perceive that miracles are real,
And they love God with much fervor and zeal,
Sweeter than the honey of the very first bee,
When the warm August sun had shone goldenly!
As to the long clash of science and such fervor,
Longingly, a blend of the two will gain favor,
And for all creation, will find reason plausible-
Without God, the magic wouldn't be possible!
Lake previous poetic effort,
sans spiritus mundi, converse
sing a boot unfamiliar thread,
and ignored common
sense ne'er re: hearse
sing, asper William Butler Yeats,
aye went off deep end, perhaps
provoked at least une nurse
sis sear re: literary unlicensed violation,
and additionally one emphatic curse,
where mine poe whet
tick feet did immerse
for the methamphetamine time acid,
(I said to myself), why traverse
pointlessly imagining something worse
tread about, i.e. say...tripping
along head over heels, yet
nagging notion would not disperse
venturing blithely writing
plunging into terra incognita parallel
universe a "multiverse"
herewith also Ark
chew woolly Noah intent
for yours truly to drown while purse
sue wing abstract notion,
viz domain of science fiction,
never intermittently intersperse
sing following lines with "HELP, I need
somebody...", nor deliberately submerge
readers within a mini sea course
of confusion, but I feel confounded
gripped, lured...and will gladly reimburse,
should delving over my head diverse
if eyeing breadth, length, scope...
beyond realm of mom and pop verse
a tile theoretical physicists,
who casually identify ten dimensions
— eleven including time, nor averse
slithering thru worm holes
such more'n flight of fancy seems perverse,
whereat numberless whirled
wide webs presents obverse
to accepted paradigm reverse
sing scientific tenets describing
quarks, plus portal bellow much
room (See Alice in Wonderland) disperse
sing notions, where exodus
into alternate self contained
separate cosmological infinitesimal channels
far more exciting than reality television!
In the daylight hours, I spend my time
So high on a perch, in a lofty pine
Where I fluff and comb my pretty plumes
And wait for the rise of the silver moon
I bob and weave on the top of the tree
Watching my world, in dimensions of three
My golden eyes fixed, on the fallen leaves
As I wait for the night, so patiently
At the set of sun, and the rise of moon
In the Croatan forest, near Camp Le Jeune
With a piercing screech, I take to the sky
On the wind, with silent wings, I fly
Over forest and swamps, on a winter night
Dipping and swaying like a wind-blown kite
In search of a rabbit, a rat or a bat
Until I find one, there's no turning back
Over Emerald Isle, and wind-swept dunes
I fly, so freely, beneath a silver moon
For miles along the Atlantic shore
Engrossed in the din of the ocean's roar
I hear from a distance, the stir of a hare
And see her dining, on sea grasses there
Her nibbling nose, like a lure, to my eyes
As I, with the speed of lightning, fly
Then swooping straight down, without a sound
I wrap my talons, so tightly around
The slow, soft beat, of a dying heart
As bits of fur, fly away in the dark
A Great Horned Owl, I'm a bird of prey
With the wind at my back, I make my way
With the chill of winter, a melt on my breast
I return triumphantly to my nest.
~~~
For contest sponsored by Eve Roper
Owls Personification
Placed: 2nd
Written: February 12, 2016
Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada
When I woke up today, it was kind of tough.
Yawn!
I stretched and I tossed, sunk back down to think about stuff.
My imagination was still dreaming, as it was waking up from sleep.
As I thought about what I would like to do today, and also, what is expected of me.
Whether there was good weather out there, or not, was the temperature low or high from the heat.
Was the thermometer covered with icicles?
SssssZZZZssssss!
Could you fry an egg on the street?
Don't tread on me!
Would I want to build a military sandcastle base?
Or a cool igloo palace place?
Maybe I will build a pit and throw up upon it, a mound of leaves?
(Oh I see), with mud down my face, does that sound like me?
I could build a mountain to ascend, or descend, a fort to defend, sword in hand, (Pretend.)
Whatever the case may be, I could really get into it, fit through it on my hands and knees!
Oh yes, now I am waking up. The simple things atmosphere brings, feelings and those things that are very dear to me. There's something about this Earth, that feels like something more, something important, so I think,
Nature's emotions, I feel are like a painting to my senses, full of fragrances and color, offering variety and dimensions.
The weather and the bloom reminds me of a mood, especially as the climate changes season, and our feelings emerge renewed. Rejuvenating the sleepy landscape too with reason, like a phoenix's return, out of the blue.
Weather sometimes shows its spirit, like when the sun shines again after a monsoon. Telling us to no longer fear it. What else can it do?
When the wild wind blows, earth's motions sometimes shows a funny bit of attitude.
The deep space within,
fathomless,
my private universe encapsulated,
the soul shines there as countless suns
in the glowing galaxy of introspection,
timeless.
In the measure of perennial perception,
profound,
I feel my universe expand across time,
wrapping the divine insight of infinity,
enfolded in primordial entity,
absolute.
Away from the timeless dimensions,
measureless,
at the edge of the enshrined eternity,
the sense-transcending odyssey
discovers the constellation of bliss,
endless.
_____________
Posted : October 1, 2020
January 21, 2023
For Brian Strand's You Select Contest
Four characters make the fantastic team,
after cosmic rays exposure in the outer space
on an experimental probing mission,
each member acquires unique prodigious abilities.
Fantastic Reed, the leader, a virtuoso scientist
and a shape-shifter intellectual strategist,
his wife Sue, with empowered invisibility weaves
force-fields as formidable defense asset.
Her younger hot-headed brother, Johnny, the human torch,
turns into flame and a blaze in flight.
Reed’s best friend, Ben, the thing, a mutated rock-skinned
superhuman monstrous powerhouse with a tender heart.
The Fantastic Four's adventures involve
exploration of the different spatial aspects,
roaming with fortitude through dimensions,
in the uncharted regions of the universe,
from the Negative Zone to the stellar space,
facing and dealing with cosmic and evil threats,
as a family team, dynamic albeit dysfunctional,
amalgamated by interpersonal relationship and solidarity.
An iconic and long-term segment of Marvel comics,
its impact extending beyond comics into other storylines,
The Fantastic Four are more than superheroes,
they are the first family of the Marvel Universe.
Scarred and Blackened
In Tasmania’s rugged but scenic South West
Lies an ancient land of pristine wilderness
Protected by a World Heritage Listing
An eco-system a thousand years nesting
A land of Aboriginal spiritual dreamtime
Where rare native flora survives, like Pencil Pine
And fauna abound on the Button Grass plains
With rugged mountain ranges never tamed
Hunter Gatherers burned to reduce the fuel load
The protectors now heading down the wrong road
By letting the fuel build to immense dimensions
A massive fire just waiting to turn the land ashen
The spirit of storm clouds gathers up high
For the rangers this is pleasing to the eye
But alas, this building spiral of cloud is dry
Just building thunder heads in the sky
The inner circle of the clouds one big mass
Intermingle, then with violence they clash
Spewing bolts of lightning to the ground
But not a drop of precious rain to be found
A searing bolt of lightning grounds
Amid the drought-stricken pencil pines
An explosion of sparks, then flames
A fire is born the lightening to blame
Spreading quickly with the brisk westerly winds
The fire races through the dry Button grass plains
A massive cloud of smoke drifts east
Alerting the protectors to this massive beast
The call goes out for fire fighters and water bombers
As the black smoke causes concern to near-by loggers
For the fire now a catastrophic inferno
Consuming the wilderness like no tomorrow
The water bombers and man-power useless
Against this cataclysm of wild fire that has unleashed
Thousands of acres of pristine wilderness
Now blackened and scared, a nothingness
For weeks it burned, some 100,000 acres
Now tamed by remote area fire-fighters
But the scars from the fire yet to discover
A landscape that will take years to recover
Global warming, to blame many think
As this South-West area was always wet
Many years of below average rainfall
Perhaps Mother-Nature having her revenge
Hurry! Hurry!
All aboard the Cosmic Trane
Where the mind runs free and
the soul feels no pain
A location for the elevation of
humanness to the existential
realm of salvation
Galactic spiritual religiosity in the
form of rhythmic sounds
Free. Free. Running freely into
dimensions away from the third
A ride. A glorious ride of
harmonic bliss
A kiss, a sweet kiss...
So fasten and secure your headphones
and be sure not to miss
Because this is sure to be a ride
of epic proportions
Away. Far away from the chaos and
distortions
My God!
Jones will be thudding
With Tyner tinkling the keys
Oh yes, Garrison will be a 'bassing'
And Coltrane blowing like a breeze
A ride. A celestial ride out of
this world
To places and spaces where all
dreams and hopes are unfurled
O' Wise One in the sleeper for a
Song of Praise
And Afro Blue reflects on Africa
Giant Steps in the coming days
Blues Minor to Sweet Naima
I have my ticket, so you know this
means I can not stay
I just pressed play, and now I'm coasting
and floating away
The brief look from you became that dreamy cloud,
free of prejudice in silence, not as my usual mental loud.
I knew that I will find refuge in your loving harmony,
feelings when sentiment in words are lost with certainty.
The image of colorful fragrance, taste and familiarity,
trusting portal of expanding imagination and its clarity.
Enchanting third dimensions and subtle inner region,
preciousness changes the heart and sincerities legion.
The longing that discovers new wings of beauty,
when mental eye speaks that touch of selfless duty.
Dissolving virtue in that light of pure reflection,
rising waves of desire and change of sphere detection.
Dewdrops on a flower for a hungry soul and mind,
I have known you from a previous life, sort of kind.
The answer of that vision proofs itself by filling the dots,
loving promise awaken when one emancipate those karmic knots.