Long Discloses Poems
Long Discloses Poems. Below are the most popular long Discloses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Discloses poems by poem length and keyword.
VILLANELLES IV
She Always Grew Roses
by Michael R. Burch
a belated eulogy for my grandmother, Lillian Lee
Tell us, heart, what the season discloses.
“Too little loved by the ego in its poses,
she always grew roses.”
What the heart would embrace, the ego opposes,
fritters away, and sometimes bulldozes.
Tell us, heart, what the season discloses.
“Too little loved by the ego in its poses,
she loved nonetheless, as her legacy discloses—
she always grew roses.”
How does one repent when regret discomposes?
When the shadow of guilt, at last, interposes?
Tell us, heart, what the season discloses.
“Too little loved by the ego in its poses,
she continued to love, as her handiwork shows us,
and she always grew roses.”
Too little, too late, the grieved heart imposes
its too-patient will as the opened book recloses.
Tell us, heart, what the season discloses.
“She always grew roses.”
The opened-then-closed book is a picture album. The season is late fall because it was in my autumn years that I realized I had written poems for everyone in my family except Grandma Lee. Hopefully it is never too late to repent and correct an old wrong.
Little Sparrow
by Michael R. Burch
for my petite grandmother, Christine Ena Hurt, who couldn’t carry a note, but sang her heart out with great joy, accompanied, I have no doubt, by angels
“In praise of Love and Life we bring
this sacramental offering.”
Little sparrow of a woman, sing!
What did she have? Hardly a thing.
A roof, plain food, and a tiny gold ring.
Yet, “In praise of Love and Life we bring
this sacramental offering.”
“Hosanna!” angel choirs ring.
Little sparrow of a woman, sing!
Whence comes this praise, as angels sing
to her tuneless voice? What of Death’s sting?
Yet, “In praise of Love and Life we bring
this sacramental offering.”
Let others have their stoles and bling.
Little sparrow of a woman, sing!
“In praise of Love and Life we bring
this sacramental offering
as the harps of beaming angels ring.
Little sparrow of a woman, sing!”
Keywords/Tags: villanelle, villanelles, refrain, roses, angel, angels, sparrow, sacrament, sacramental, family, grandmother, heart, ego, season, seasons, legacy, elegy, eulogy, remember, remembrance
ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING
My husband had a restaurant
For thirty two years,
Much frustration, kitchen hell
And staff in tears.
The Oasis was a place to dine
Of note,
When exhausted, we drove down,
To the coast and surfed the waves on our boat.
He was renown,
From Limpopo, to Cape Town!
But the time had come to relax a bit,
So he could read the daily newspaper,
And actually sit!
We sold the Oasis, renovated
Our kitchen so it could be his
Own place,
And of course space,
Where I am occasionally allowed
To show my face,
But only to make dessert or taste,
And with a kiss of somewhat haste,
Retreat to let him do his
Own thing,
And enjoy an absolute kitchen
Fling!
He cooks with his hands, soul and
And heart,
And he always dresses for the part,
Be it kitchen hand, chef or
Restaurateur,
He is, and always has been an excellent,
Interpreter,
Of any recipe as far as Beijing,
In fact he can cook anything,
From any Nation, culture or creed,
He has a flair that none can
Exceed!
And looks so cute,
In his dinner suit!
It’s time to serve dinner in style,
Which takes a while,
First he lights candles, then gives
Me a hug,
Pours me wine from our silver jug,
Serves us both and eventually
Sits down.
He had previously told me to
Dress in a comfortable gown,
I guessed he had some surprise
Up his sleeve,
For it was the eve,
Of our Wedding Anniversary.
A bell rings, it’s our front door,
There stands a chauffeur and behind
Him a limousine ,
I still didn’t know what was in store.
Until, the limosine turned towards
the airport,
My husband had packed my suitcase,
And brought my passport,
We board a plane and then he
Discloses,
To me with a bunch of roses,
That we were off to Mauritius for a week,
And, gives me a kiss on each cheek.
He had asked the pilot to please hide,
The roses, everything was so beautifully planned,
I just cried!
Happy Anniversary darling, he said.
I also had a surprise for him,
For he filled my life with such
Happiness, to the brim,
But I would keep this secret until
We arrived,
Happy Anniversary sweetheart
I replied!
Since the elderly king greatly loved music, his court esteemed it, too;
As sun and moon smile on myriad colors, during the butterfly revue.
The king was well loved and jolly, with the queen, always by his side.
He ruled with caring. Like rainbow hued peaks, where indifference died.
His glorious reign had been lengthy, and the vast kingdom prospered;
Like the kingdom of regal, red lilies, blooming regularly as clockwork.
Fabled, flighty, fall days brought friends, on the spur of rare moment,
Often from faraway kingdoms, like night, after colorful postponement.
Fragrant night fell so familiarly, in the ashen shadows of flaming day;
As family arrived feelingly from France, like the heartfelt communique.
The king lived in the house of harmony, like ruby stars dancing in sync;
And green birds sang in its courtyard, under pink, lace clouds, indistinct.
Reliable raspberry sun rose rapturously, along King's Road of old roses;
Replete with robust raven cawing, like when confiding cricket discloses.
The king's musicians gave daily recitals, like the nectarine sun, shining.
Noble courtiers attended every noon, by windows of minty ivy, twining.
The 'orchid valentine beauty' fell in love, in frilly, red petals, cashmere;
As 'crown of thorns peppermint candy,' bloomed throughout green years.
'Miss Jekyll' blooms, sought places to Hyde, since all were colored blue;
While red 'spider lily blooms' spun silk, to be adorned in something new.
One day Old King Cole called for his pipe and bowl, and his fiddlers, too;
And they played as they never had before, like pink finch's sunrise debut!
All windows were open, green leaves quivering. Songs paused in the tree.
'Twas if nature were in hushed rapture, in bygone days, far from the city!
'Old King Cole was a merry old soul.
And a merry old soul was he,
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he,
Oh there's none so rare, as can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three.'
Black tears fell from my sky today,
I can only feel it, is this blindness?
Its path of wetness burns, cold, and freezes,
In due time I hardly feel it, I can only catch it with my fingers,
Black tears rained down from my eyes,
The black things I hid under flowers came out screaming,
The flowers wilted, I still laboured to keep them blooming,
I sit in this wilderness of black, wishing this rain saves my flowers.
The whispers are back, there’s no one here to stop them coming,
“Hey, it’s us. It’s been a long time.” I cringe and hide, but this rain over me discloses,
“We knew this lull wouldn’t last. Your storms are lifelong, ink woman.” They taunt,
Ah, if only I could prove to them my new strength, but it all washed down with the black.
A porcelain pale face, glazed sheen over my eyes, I’m told,
“Pull yourself together, there’s no blame in destiny.”
If only my old friends heard them, and understood,
If only this erratic rain ceased to pour from my eyes.
My childhood pals are back, it’s one big party.
Some of them seek some action, but we’re no longer in the age of thrill,
I reason and plead, I tell them, I’m above their companionship,
“Your black tears call us forth darling , and we, if not anyone else, shall stay forever.”
“Mistakes, mistakes, tut tut tut.” My ‘friends’ have begun their chant,
Lost in their voices, I sit in my rain, but I daren’t dream of rescue,
Suddenly the tears have warmth, it’s still oozing black, but it’s home,
The sky bleeds black tears, the voices raise a cacophony. I smile. I’m home.
Black tears rained down from my eyes,
The black things I hid under flowers came out screaming,
The flowers wilted, I still laboured to keep them blooming,
I sit in this wilderness of black, wishing this rain saves my flowers.
Soul passion is not a simple task.
This is grasped as a soulful bask,
To reserve one's sound mind and soul,
To your loved ones, but not a hack.
They set down those blessed vows as rule,
In a precise scheme, that's the goal,
Since the pen-pusher by now knew,
I don't dismiss the budding role.
Spot our bloodline evolved and grew,
When our souls stand, sorely renew,
Our feelings may become muddled,
With the one, we esteem for true.
Life's chore complications crumbled,
May seldom grasp its rate stumbled,
And shepherd a partner or spouse,
Too wide, gloom, and bleak shaft fumbled.
Although, we relinquish word swears,
To be prized, esteemed with obeys,
to discard each other as well,
our arduous traipse continues.
Our sound bodies are shaped well,
that's why many of us can tell,
In the sort of low dust and grime,
Into the scum of smeared lust, dull.
So, within, there is creed sublime,
Stumbles is near the end of time,
It discloses straight to our thoughts,
And unholy erects in slime.
Attempting to maintain our wrought,
Is challenging without a brought,
One should reach out to the other,
And squabbles should be held as naught.
Such misgivings may be utter,
Despite this, your tongue is tender,
Those who have shown anxiety,
have a rough time seemly hover.
Ne'er deem without proof utterly,
Or to be selfish and greedy,
Doubt is a marked first point of this,
We judge that evil eats, truly.
Don't put your faith in people's glitz,
Since he, too, is made of brain blitz,
Believe in God with all your heart,
He'll view through, stow you on the ritz.
Written: May 11, 2022
"Eternity, Time, An Open Door" is a metaphorical phrase that suggests the concept of a gateway or passageway that leads from the finite realm of Time into the infinite expanse of Eternity, implying a potential for transcendence or access to something beyond our current understanding of Time and Life.
The Year 2000 Open a Door to another millennium; it is the door to Eternity that, in Christ, continues to Open Doors giving it its true direction and authentic meaning. It discloses to our mind and our heart a far broader perspective in which to consider the future. Time is often unappreciated. It seems to disappoint man with its precariousness, its rapid flow, which makes all things futile. But if Eternity has entered Time, then time itself must be recognized as rich in value. Its inexorable flow is not a journey towards nothingness but a journey to Eternity.
In Christ Time is raised to its highest level, receiving access to Eternity, this implies that the beginning of millennium was not just a merely the next step in the course of Time, but as a stage in humanity's journey towards its definitive Destiny.
One writer says; “The real danger is not the passing of Time, but using it badly, rejecting the Eternal Life offered by Christ. The desire for life and eternal happiness must be ceaselessly reawakened in the human heart. The celebration of the Jubilee (when the year 2000 begin) is meant precisely to increase this desire, helping believers and the people of Our Time to open their hearts to an unbounded Life.”
Then we can say that in Christ Human Time was filled with the Eternity, Time, An Open Door.
Does this make sense to you?
On a cold and frosty morning I gazed across fair fields, woods and copses,
I heard a wood-lark sing a sweet song, so sweet, hairs on my neck raised,
Did I hear it earlier in the month, I thought my ears were playing tricks,
Standing in my back garden a thrush joined in with his song, a magical day.
Peering around there were tomtits hanging on the eaves of the thatched barn,
Rooks began to revisit their special trees and arrange their future nests,
A harsh loud voice, the missel-thrush rang from hedges and boughs of trees,
The missel-thrush became quiet, the hedge sparrow renewed its chirping note.
Turkey-cocks now strut their stuff they gobble and partridges begin to pair,
House-pigeons have had their young and field, crickets open their old holes,
Gnats begin to play about the insects, swarm, under weak watery sun hedges,
The stone-curlew clamors and by ponds, in wet water mead's the frogs croak.
Ravens lay their eggs and in a far off wood a green woodpecker sings loudly,
An elder treed discloses its flower buds and the catkins of the hazel grow,
Young leaves are budding on the gooseberries and currants begin to take shape,
And late February is a time where life is regenerated for another four seasons.
Winter in spite of occasional frost and frowns is now leaving for pastures new,
The voice of the turtle and the singing-bird is heard once more in our lands,
Frost and icicles hanging from high old oak trees begin to drip on hard ground,
A fox can be seen way off in a fallow field looking for nest-eggs for breakfast.
Conscience And Surviving
(*Shadow/Blitz poetry should be read rapidly)
Clear the air
Clear of conscience
Conscience causes confusion
Conscience derails dreams
Dreams fail to fit the occasion
Dreams will melt
Melt unrealistic margins
Melt them with fire
Fire will purify
Fire burns fast
Fast through flaming houses
Fast over high dry grasses
Grasses continue and turn green
Grasses grow giant lawns
Lawns become giants
Lawns climb mountains
Mountains stay still as they can
Mountains do not leap
Leap over oceans
Leap to the stars
Stars wink out secrets
Stars tell scary stories
Stories of violent creation
Stories about the hidden dark
Dark takes over
Dark creates night
Night drinks in power
Night consumes the alter ego
Ego shrinks to such depths as man
Ego bathes in the light of day
Day discloses realities intent
Day takes the sun to happy places
Places in the heart
Places rich in passion
Passion recognized by everyone
Passion born from the burning sun
Sun that reaches every soul
Sun takes solace from shade
Shade has no shadow of its own
Shade belongs to trees
Trees treat sun and shade the same
Trees have leaves and religious beliefs
Beliefs in nature
Beliefs is little creatures
Creatures come and go
Creatures know surviving
Surviving peacefully
Surviving gently
Gently
Peacefully
"Road to Lovejoy - Piano for the Self Taught" (Part 1)
Liberation
of a sort
head out the car window
hair blowin’ in the breeze
I can hear the Crickets chirping
in the chilly winter freeze
I’m smiling
it’s good to be alive
until the old man shouts
“Hoi!
pull your head in a
truck’s coming!”
Right hand holding
the wheel steady
reaches over the gear stick
across me
no seatbelts back then
in the old Austin
winds up the window
a roll your own ***
hangs out the side of
his mouth
the Kimberly is a moving
gas chamber
I’m breathing it all in,
holding my paper bag
carsick from the fags
along a very long flat road
it’s seems like we’ve been driving
forever, all those Cane Toads jumping
across the “NO SPEEDING - ROOS CROSSING!” Zone,
We’re moving West not South
Erinmore roll your own
he licks then spits out.
“Count the roadposts”,
he barks out the corner of his
mouth, “that’ll be interesting”.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
there’s a Roo lying on the side
of the road in the dark,
the highbeam discloses it’s been
bleeding, intestines lying ripe
with blowflies and a Red Belly Black
by it’s side
“eating it’s gizzards”, I surmise
I swallow and cringe,
the word makes me think
of Frilly Lizards, throwing up and
I’m praying it’s gone to Roo Heaven.
8, 9, 10, 11,
before too long
I’m sleeping.
This, he’s commanded,
to keep me from barfing.
(Lovejoy-Burton/2017 Dec)
EVE
Never say “I don’t love you”
When you just mean give me space
Because it hurts me so much
Like a dagger in my heart
Never Say “”I don’t care”
When you just mean you hate it
Because I need to know,
Promise I’ll never do it again
Never say I Miss you
When you are far
The fact is
I want to be exactly where you are
Never say “Come here”
When you just mean, prove my love
Because if I fail, I can’t blame distance
Men are comprises of peculiar elements
Our mind is the abode for knowledge
That holds the truth and the lies
Our mind is the residence of our will and desire
We don’t like to be fool
Because we don’t play with feelings
We fall in love but hate to be dictated
We have our own plans and tactics
And we don’t stop until we reach success
We don’t lie when
We hide ourselves beyond what you see
Or discloses the antecedents of our past relationships
We just hate remembering heartaches
Cause we are also the casualty of failures
We maybe objective
And could become ruthless
But touch us once and we will gradually melts
You can name our nature
Beastly
Brutal
Evil and
Divine
You can call us everything that you wanted
But I tell you honey
That the realms of our nature
Is tamed with your passion
That behind our glory is your love
That the truth of our being
Is your existence
That the vows that you committed
Is the life that we long to live…