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Long Divines Poems

Long Divines Poems. Below are the most popular long Divines by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Divines poems by poem length and keyword.

Why Gods Always Live Alone

It is so lonely
having all time
and only spaciousness 
to themselves.

Bored with Other
after so many millennia
planning future events
to finally get even for ungrateful behavior 
that pissed them off
when they were even younger
in their co-evolving relationships
as not each Other.

Time lies dead in their competing hands
yet dynamic in their displaced designs
for emerging future climate changes,
great transitions,
spaces and places to regenerate a more cooperative atmosphere
among these co-arising Gods
of Energy and Air,
Water and Soil,
Fire 
and Golden AnthroDivine Elixirs.

To drink this beverage of Timeless Gods and Goddesses
is to travel through time Their bilateral Selves
aware of fear as Other godless fear
of Their own Elder divine relationships
transactions

Selecting
Gods of political MonoTheistic Correctness
with Capital-Infested Designs 
for self-perpetuating
lost humane development 
and wealthy mind
healing EarthBody design
for future multicultural millennia

Future therapeutic chapters
in our collective ReGeneration Story 
of Passion/Pleasure
intimate GodNesses.

A lonely lovely story,
from panentheistic perspective 
of polyculturally communing gods and goddesses.

All that loving grace of healthy integrity,
yet so few dreams in which to unload
their rich full-octaved color
and inspiraling fluency 
of Me/We
humane divines
severed/sacred 
double-side divides

EarthGrace 
re-stimulating AnthroLovely gratitude;
such steady-state resonant bliss
vexing passionate struggles to erupt outside
inside timeless dramatic elation
without climaxing end

All alone,
hiding monolithic divested blame
without exclusively Self-invested 
merely human 
shamefully ungodly 
dispassionately unpleasant 
desecrated lesser Others

ReTexting hate-filled UnTruth scriptures
as if anger/fear bipolar prescriptions
while ting toxins
on His Golden MonoPolistic Throne.

culturegodhappinesshearthumanity

Form: Political Verse

7:13

7:13
The coldness came quickly
The darkness began to spread
Violent tongues were lashing
Evil fingers pointed at innocence
Thanks and forgiveness had been forgotten
O' DEAR HEAVENLY FATHER, how might we stop this
TIC, TIC, TIC, TOC
The sand is moving fastly
It flew right past us
Good numbers dwindled
While evil ones surpassed us
Evilness had its way
Somehow Lucifer had been invited
Such an evil sight to see
People were broken and divided
The good were being highly tested
Evilness had blanketed the skies
Barely any light was able to squeeze on by
Darkness almost consumed us all
Fewer followers under the HIGHEST ORDER
Many had switched to darkness
O' HEAVENLY DIVINE, how do we make it through this
Can you please come down and save us
The dark clouds split apart very, very quickly
Wicked became even more wicked
The Sand is running out its gone so swiftly
Purest whisper spoken into my ear
Saying, Psalm 91, feel while you are here
It will help until I AM near
The HIGHEST ORDER of MESSENGERS arrived
They carefully flew through all of the fire
Entering in Satans playground of Sin
For One Last Spit Trial
The DIVINES TRUMPET has been sounded
GOD gave His final warning
Satan did not descend
Holding his head high in evil sin
GOD'S once most powerful in HIS ORDER
ALMIGHTY DIVINE, in the sands of Time
The Glass only holds One pebble
HOLY ORDER of The DIVINE
Sang in Time
In such Beautiful Harmony and Rhythm
Satan's once large Empire
Began to Crumble and Sour
DIVINE & SUPERNATURAL POWERS
SEVEN:THIRTEEN
Divided All into two separate files
The Pure and Wicked no longer smothered together 
Evil Thirteens, paired, and had to stare into the Windows of the Innocent Sevens
TIC, TIC, TOC
Began the two Infinity Clocks
GOD swang down his hammer
GOD'S FOREVER GLASS IS A BALANCING ACT
LOVE BINDS ITSELF TOGETHER
ALWAYS & FOREVER, AMEN.

bibleconflictfaithgodheaven

Form: Free verse

Immaterial Soul
A sprout abundant of immortal hope,
a search of a pulse of love in his heart,
an empty threat vivid in a man of a dying soul,
as the echoes in his heart race to slay him whole.
Hope arrives within stone’s throw.

A shining star at the groove of absolute all-ness,
a crowning jewel for the kin Vincente’s,
the only appetite tis’ sole aspirer, to be one with all my family,
so shall it be my destiny found.

My greatest fear is death, the unknown timelessness of eternal life,
where confinement and salvation touch shoulders.
Immortality is a remote axiom, an alchemists’ fame of soul remembrance

A mortal’s search of Tipler’s omega point,
the last hope of salvation adjacent to this point,
tis not found but earned long as: the moral laws written on thy heart ensue.

Gilgamesh first state awed his last, the divines’ gift to he, astray,
the fountain of eternal life alludes his last state tis’ only hope is consciousness of thy neural network

Annus Miribalis hath hope for Gilgamesh’s immortal life.

So set him free. Let angles guide thy through the herculean task,
strength and honor hear of Gilgamesh’s survival, his sink in armor of humility indulgence, a chain of association whose lineage is of no close origins.

For gins today “weakness” in armor flourish as strength in fame of tomorrow.
A peerless thought patrols Gilgamesh’s talent, change the world with a breadth of “élan’ vital”

Annus Miribalis hath hope for Gilgamesh’s immortal life.

Through the looking glass of all mortals dogma,
Faith model give rise to sovereign heavenly body in one piece.
Tis thy divine decree. Sole talent forge the apples’ fruit skin,
Gilgamesh’s purpose put to bed past regret.

To unite, to end suffering and shatter all man-kinds intrinsic prisons.

Gilgamesh's journey tips the edge…

fearfeelingsgodhopelife

Form: Free verse

Seasons

Life is a series of events, changing seasons. I must search, look for the reasons. Worried about triumphs and trophies. Forgetting I'm not measured by victories; But by my growth, how I've evolved. How I survive problems not solved. I'll make mistakes, I'll learn lessons. Experience loss, overcome transgressions. I must remember that old cliche'. No destination, but a journey every day. Good times and hard times, it's all the same. Time waits for no man, no one's to blame. Always remembering, this too shall pass. Be careful while searching for greener grass. Moments are fleeting, right before my eyes; But when I'm struggling the devil lies. Contradiction, I think myself clever. Out with the bad and the good will last forever. With one breath I wish for a feeling to last. With the next, defeated, wishing another to pass
Yes, I admit I've been there. The moral of the story, what I wish to share. Is to bask in the sunlight when it shines. Cherish the warmth, thank the divines. Accept the challenges for what they're worth. A small fraction of my purpose on earth. Flowers will bloom, leaves will fall, and tides will change. People will come, people will go, and lives will rearrange. Hindsight is 20/20, I've had to be shown. What I would have missed had I not grown. If I'd given up, threw in the towel, called it quits. During the times of life that gave nothing but kicks. Looking back, it all becomes crystal clear. Those lessons I learnt; I hold so dear. What a shame it would be, seriously, a tragedy. I could have missed out on a life woven, a tapestry. If I'd not been reminded things only last for a season. If I hadn't searched, looked for the reasons.

12/7/2020
Seasons
Sponser-Edward Ibeh
Advice To The Youth

encouraginginspirationlife

Form: Lyric

She - For Whom the Snake Coils Revised

She (For Whom the Snake Coils)

Does danger dance to flutes played by your breath, 
emerge from basket’s depths to haunting tunes? 
It’s superstitious myth that weaving snake
can hypnotize and freezes victim’s feet
when cobra rises writhing like a fiend!

The woman is attracted, not to death
but life; divines snake charmers aren’t buffoons.
Snakes do not dance in time; their eyes track shake -
some hint of danger (or flute’s sway). Where’s feat
of mystic wisdom ancient shaman gleaned?

A thornless rose stares back from vase on ground;
slight nod suggests snake’s safe; bare hand slips in!
Snake’s skin feels rough, quite dry to touch (though scales
look wet); her gentle strokes provoke no hiss! 
Most snakes are shy, and few will launch attacks

(though cobras will defend their eggs!) Their backs
are where life’s mongoose strikes that ends snake’s bliss, 
ends slides through ‘Leaves of Grass’ (1) on nature’s trails.
Split tongues taste air: sweet rhyme considered win;
great metaphors quite rare but sometimes found!
 

Brian Johnston
13th of October in 2020
Poet’s Notes: 
(1) Walt Whitman’s book’s title, “Leaves of Grass,” suggests
a hidden modesty. “Leaves” refers to pages in a book
and “grass” is a word used by some as a label to describe
the work of an immature or less gifted poet.

My poem was inspired by and written for a woman friend
from college days, Michaelyn Shelly-David, who had an
unforgettable encounter with a snake charmer’s cobra
on a recent trip to India. She told me she experienced an
in-depth, intimate connection to this potentially deadly
snake as a living entity that shares our world.

journeylifelovenaturepoetry

Form: Rhyme

Golden Gates

Heavens doors shined bright on one man, When God gave him what he never said he can, 
her beauty flowed like lifes waters that rushed into his heart.
filled it like the earths oceans, 

she made his heart move with every movement of the waves motions.
Her eyes looked as if they had been stolen from the stars above, 
She over whelmed his mind becoming all he could think of...speak of.

But slowly then all at once he fell, 
led by the way she went against his jail cell, being held captive from the world he had been longing for, 
moving on from the shores of the oceans that he had heard from old lore, 

the courage in his mind and body displayed like the mane of a lion, contemplations in his mind about when or why to hope she knows you aren't lying,
but she came up first to he, she explained the passion and Love that she had saw and forever could be, 

while their presence created melodies that only the divines could describe and see, man saw what distance was placed between the Love that no one could sever, they made every day last with a flower sent with every letter that the mailman or messenger was told to deliver, 

they knew it would never end, with the Love that they started and with every touch or sigh they heard sought to re begin, 

but the beginning just only came, to the man blessed by God who was known without a name, 
she gave him a meaning, a motive that started his being, 

he woke up every morning living a life better than 
what he was dreaming, 
but thought every day 
and took it back to the beginning, 
with every X-ray 
and cat scan, 
no matter what he ate 
or how far he ran, 
Heavens doors shined bright on one man.

beautifulchristianfarewellheartlove

Form: Free verse

The Middle Children

Be it that I am doomed to walk the Earth
In fear of time - measured in mere fractions;
Starlight grants me comfort with twinkling mirth,
Lost in wakes of dread deeper than oceans.

I'd ask what it means to live over time,
of paupers; preachers; aristocrats, too - 
why lives are measured in short centuries.
For stars, it is nothing if not untrue.
A middle child with no hope to call mine;
with stately manners, I protest, "I'm fine,
doomed to be but shadows and memories."

Stardust divines our eager fingerprints
imbued on the walls of our history:
generations defined by reticence
and willful blindness to its mystery.

I'd ask what it means to swallow my fears,
of gods and kings and legends in their prime,
to carve in my heart courage that's blinding -
Like stars whose light shines long after their time.
O' Father I'll pray the rest of my years
through the funeral rites and birthday cheers,
"Grant me the stars when life stops rewinding."

With tired devotion left in my soul
I'll shatter the world to see what I'm worth -
memories that used to make me feel whole,
buried like innocence lost in childbirth.

I'll say what it means to temper my pride
to mothers and fathers, both who are lost,
Silently waiting till we come of age.
It's the ones you bring up that bear the cost. 
Tell your kids before their eyes open wide;
Before their lungs, filled with air, rise like the tide;
"Stand and face your mortality with rage!"

childrenhumanityinspirationaltimeyouth

Form: Iambic Pentameter