Long Dusk Poems
Long Dusk Poems. Below are the most popular long Dusk by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dusk poems by poem length and keyword.
With looks of celestial damsel
On mission of mystery unravel
A fairy flies from foreign land
Fabulously to discover dreamland
With colourful feathers silky
Plumage so soft as cream milky
With a huge brain and physique
Seemingly bereft of travel unique
Marches with her wings vibrant
Only to devote herself on front 1
Space being her intriguing place
With supersonic speed that’s ace
Surmounting all hurdles many
The angel gathers speed gluttony
Hovering over planetoids tiny
Cosmic powers she has bonny
Revolving around many orbits
Surpassing all heavenly bits
Eventually lands on planet afar
Near the superb system of star 2
The landing leaves no stone unturned
For she knows her vision churned
Deep insight and attitude awesome
Make her an alien winsome
Tidy looks and trendy gait
Extremely stunning to catch and get
Her device offers a beverage strange
That has unique aura and rage
Pinkish perfect pure porridge
The cosmic food it seems from fridge 3
Tailor-made for her specific physique
Is the space suit with electro-magnetic
Induction full speed and winsome
Mere touch causes sparkle wowsome
A protective shield made of an alloy
Thus making her a space decoy
Satellites she whirls like a key chain
Space capsules she twirls on her mane
An enormous angel from an alien abode
Now at my solar system crossroad 4
What could be her mission possible!
Has been my subject of marvel
Is it to bring apocalypse fatal
Or just to revamp my earth petal
Before her I am like a neo natal
What to do to know her mettle
Time passes and she starts
To peruse my earth full of arts
Wonders at the seas and bays
Astonishes at mountains and rays 5
I am now beside myself
As she drills the earth deep herself
Oh soon there comes an mystery man
With torso made of crystal brand
The drilling continues till the dusk
There is a mist and her voice husk
I know it’s their language mutual
Based on the heavenly acts factual
Perhaps the mission is to find gems
In the earth stomach that overwhelms 6
Thus I’m sure she is down for mining
And exploiting the earth for farming
The drill lasts for hours twenty
Finally come out jewels aplenty
Like that of ocean-churn by Gods
Here going on planet-pumping by rods
The purpose is to adjust the axle
Though imaginary-full of miracle
Eventually gathered all gems
Putting axle in firm place 7
Remember when that flash of insight
last self-ignited in your expectant thoughts
blasting away the fog of uncertainty, complexity and doubt.
A sudden aha Eureka answer, pure, simple, so succinct, beautiful.
To some this flash of aha is called duration, or a blink. insight, acumen, Eureka!
But, my friend, how, why, when, where, do these Aha moments arise?
Can we conger up more for ourselves, fill a treasure cheat with insights?
Or is this quest a waste of time, as no treasure map exits. But does it?
Can we ever know with what, and how, and when to cast the magic wand?
Does our search for meaning, inquiries lay the foundation?
Can we prepare the way ahead in some way or other?
Think back, my friend, did these gems
always spring up unexpectedly, and what occurred beforehand?
These aha Euekas cannot be scheduled or delayed,
cannot be snuck-up on, snared nor detected,
cannot be forced out nor guaranteed to appear.
Euekas are not rewards for hard work, perhaps the opposite is true.
How often does lazy and shallow wader get the creative rewards.
Chance is never fair in its rewards for hard work.
Often, an Aha taps us on the shoulder, we are least expecting it,
out of the blue, saying: "Look at Me. Look at Me".
When gobbled up with glee, it washes over and transforms us.
We are never be the same. It makes our day.
Does begging the question, ignoring the answers laid out
make it pop up from the soup into an inquiring mind?
Or does it appear when we raise questions to that have already been answered well?
Does it appear when we thin-slice the book to separate the leaves?
Often mistakes and errors have led to great breakthroughs
like penicillin, radioactivity, the color mauve and plastics.
What does this mean to you and your Aha Eureka pot of gold?
Should we be less careful, more observant for the unusual?
The Aha Eureka is a fleeting feeling, easily lost in the blink of an eye,
rampant, capricious, imperceptible, unbounded, elusive
like seeing something in the corner of the eye at dusk,
if you look straight at it, it's gone, look back again, it's there again.
For me it can be a matter of serendipity.
The more I see, the more I do, the more I explore, the more hits are triggered.
Many total restarts from scratch, often helps.
But, for me the one simple things
that works is lay me down to rest,
and to sleep on it!
1
Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still burn
thine absence half a decade spent in vain
to break the bonds that tie, that fett’ring chain
that holds me from embracing thee, thyself in turn.
Thine all enchanting smile, piercing eyes–
thy flailing arms, the limbs, with rhythmic stroke –
responses soundless to the silent words I spoke
to thee before from thee Fate forced me from thy cries.
I watched thee grow through temp’rate times of yore –
remembering the gall’ry of my mind.
‘Twas all I had.
2
Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still ache
thy presence all too far in distant land
where careless arms push thee with calloused hand
away from mine where once I swore thee none could take.
Thine eyes with tears I shared I shed alone
so thou might never feel the agony
the anguish, loss of my identity,
thy father, thee my offspring, daughter, dearest one.
I watched thee grow through chilling times, and more –
remembering thy portrait in my mind.
‘Twas all I had.
. 3
Oh, gentle child, how doth my soul yet yearn
those many hours oft upon my breast
thy head thou laid safe harbor for thy rest,
thy questions, mind alert, thy hungering to learn.
Thy voice I hear through dreams and zephyr breeze,
thou lark by morn by eve the nightingale,
as Dawn and Dusk, Aurora without fail,
thou hast my heart and soul kept warm with ease.
I watch thee grow, and will, forever more –
remembering thy sculpture in my mind.
‘Tis all I have.
4
Until we are as one renewed
some future date somewhere awaits
when thou her servant dare to flee
that which with thee so long accrued
where here I love and there she hates
that wily witch who bindeth thee.
Break loose those prison bars that bind
thy tired wings that flap in vain –
Renew thy pledge at length to find
thy youthful freedom once again.
Then shalt thy flags fly high aloft
while eagles scream thy freedom song,
while robins chirp with redbreast, soft –
all a capella – pure and long.
Then both our souls shall share their peace,
a father and his daughter, found
to spend their lives on borrowed lease
to live and die on hallowed ground.
Thus, take, Tai-Ana, this, my prayer
that fathers and their children hear
of this solemnity
that children here and everywhere
ne’er shed a sad though soulful tear
for all eternity.
[Finis]
STANZA ONE
He had the heart of a lion
And the strength of a bear
Ripping his enemies apart
He would crush and tear
Man of steel
With charm and grace
No one can dare confront him
Or look at his face
He is all over the world
And all over the place
He stands on the silver clouds
And drift through the winds
The colour of his skin matters less
As long as he is bless
By God
Samson! David or my Mohammed Ali
Roosevelt or Lincoln
Whatever name you may be
Oh! Superman
He has come to rescue us from harm
I love the way he looks
His carriage and charm
You remind of Horatio Nelson
The way you fight with one arm
And he looks above the horizon like a demigod
His composure was calm and undisturbed
Oh! Superman
Messenger of God
He prays hard to the Almighty and serves the Lord
Oh Superman!
The strongest man I have ever seen
A man a thousand men can not win
He had the strength of Samson
And the wisdom of Solomon
He is the king of us all
But he will not acknowledge
that title
Firm like Stalin
When it is time to take a decision
Never look back
Takes no permission
The true hero of the revolution
Was Leon Trosky
Washington of our time
Deliver us from the Great Evil
No matter where it may be
Oh Superman! Oh Superman! Oh Superman!
He lives in me
I am determine to sacrifice my life
For the sake others
So that all men will be free
And stand for the rights of men
Where ever they may be
I will seek them in the lions den
And send evil doers to the past
With one blast
And that will be their last
STANZA TWO
He had the heart of a lion
And the strength of a bear
Ripping his enemies apart
He would crush and tear
Man of steel
With charm and grace
No one can dare confront him
Or look into at his face
Samson! David or my Mohammed Ali
Roosevelt or Lincoln
Whatever name you may be
Oh! Superman
When he was born an old witch
Saw a prophecy
That a king is coming soon
Because the Moon was still shining even at afternoon
And the sun was still sleeping in his lazy crib
To live a promising life of adventure
Little did his parents know
That he was a man as a child
Before he would grow
And his glory would glow
Like the Alpha Centauri
Oh Superman!
From dusk to dawn
He lays awake
And would take
Any challenge that comes his way
And would live his life like every other day
And he would live his life for the sake of others
Defender of justice and freedom
Thinks like an old sage
Because he has wisdom
April 6 Wagontire, Oregon
1973
In 1973, I went on a road trip
With my father
We left Berkeley to go to Yakima
Where my father had a summer cabin
He was a college professor
And had July and August off
And we spent the summers
Every summer from 1968 to 1978
Our whole dysfunctional family
Our annual road trip to hell and back
As we did not get along at all
We decided to drive through Eastern Oregon
Just my father and me
Just for the hell of it
The rest of the family was already there
My father and I shared a travel lust
One of the few things we shared
This was one of our best trips
We got along
Which was unusual
Normally our relationship
Was fraught
As we were so different
We left Klamath Falls
A real nothing burg in those days
And headed east along highway 395
As we entered the desert of eastern Oregon
We entered a different world
High mountain dessert
Almost no one on the road
Then we saw the sign
Wagontire Oregon
100 miles ahead
99 miles ahead
98 miles ahead
We counted down the signs
Miles after miles
As we drove into the gathering dusk
We speculated that Wagontire
Must be a giant truck stop
In the middle of no where
We pulled into the town
Nothing there but a gas station
Motel and café
We decided to stop
Last gas for 100 miles
According to the highway signs
In the morning
We chatted with the owner
He was the sheriff, the fire chief
The owner of the motel, gas station
The only business in town
And the only place open
For one hundred miles
I noticed a highway sign outside
Welcome to Wagontire, Oregon
Population 2 ½ humans 10 dogs, 50.000 sheep
I asked the Sherriff
Say who is the ½ human?
My idiot son!
And we left.
200 miles later
We finally left Eastern Oregon
2016
In 2016 my wife and I drove through Eastern Oregon
As part of our epic cross country trip
10,000 miles
31 states in three months
On the way from Medford to Yellowstone
We drove along highway 395
The signs for Wagontire was gone
And we drove through the town
The motel was abandoned
Nothing there at all
And that sign was gone too
I said I suppose the idiot son
Never took over the business
And we speculated about Wagontire
And all other nothing burgs
We drove through that summer
Heart of Trump’s America
True fly over country
Children of faith,
That look up to the heavens,
For help, for comfort,
For a change, for a beginning;
They are like nails hammered into rocks,
They have broken hearts,
They've got nothing,
Completely no one else to turn to,
They walk in the shadow of death.
Children of faith,
They know that they have numbered days,
And are aware of their crashing clay;
They see their fading light rays,
But they have their hopes high,
Like a camel in the Sahara,
That waits for years ,
For a shower of rain from above-
Their tongues prophecy new beginnings,
Their lips sing in thanksgiving,
But their hearts weep in sorrow,
For the afflictions and torments.
Children of faith,
Live each day like their last,
And give each shining sun their best.
Their thoughts are totally lost,
And upon this,they don't boast.
In fact, they're so detached-
From their poor lives.
They thank the setting sun,
For bringing a thin film of darkness,
And for silencing the day's noises;
So that they will shut their doors and windows,
To cry in silence,
And lick their tears;
And face their fierce fears-
While no one else witnesses their agony.
Children of faith,
That look up to the skies,
For midday dusk-
When the days seem longer,
Or appear like they're failing.
That call on,
For midnight dawn,
When nights appear faulty;
With the greatest of scary dreams,
And the highest ranking of their pain,
Or with life-threatening haemorrhages,
With wounds cut and drilled deeper.
Their lives have taken firm grip,
On to the strongest ropes,
Whose ends are knotted to weak poles.
Most of them lose it with time,
Like you and I at some point;
Only few keep the fire burning,
As they wait for their deliverance.
Children of faith,
I don't understand what it is that they are made of,
But only they know what their origins are.
We want to walk like them,
And borrow lessons from their trials,
As we try to put on their coats,
Just to feel the coldness or warmth or both;
That they get from their shield of faith.
She wants to follow their example,
And keep hearing their tales.
He wants to live a life like theirs;
And keep reciting their prayers.
We plead with them,
To Teach us ;
How to build faith like theirs.
When the storms are rough,
When the floods are yet to wash away our feet-
When misfortune befalls us,
Or when we feel we've lost it all.
I’m stealing through a twilit realm, the ancient pale of Whereis,
passing chambers of an Heiress
(though no need to feel embarrassed)
through a magic mystic mirror hanging curtainless.
A glimpse near naked alleyways (denuded by the moon) ex-
poses Ghosts in gauzy tunics
carving symbols, round and runic,
in distended dingy dungeons of uncertainness.
Down misty streets of cobblestone – ancestral avenues –
patchwork paths consume my shoes
(chasing foggy curlicues
twisting, twirling by in twos,
floating anywhere they choose),
leaving footprints that confuse
vagrant wispy retinues
of the threaded wooden sticks that stalk a Puppet wandering.
Condensed in drops of fantasy, distilled in evening dew,
shifting Shadows I pursue
(wearing faces I once knew,
slipping slowly from my view)
turn their backs to bid adieu
leaving stars to tempt me through
Awful Tower residues
mocking treasures time outgrew
in the birth of old from new
framing pageants in review
midst the visions of the painted past I can’t help pondering.
Contorted candelabra claw the skyline’s walled suspension
caught in twilight’s intervention
– still unlit (in stark dissension),
therefore seething with a tension
in the quiet apprehension
of the Watchman’s inattention
to the night-time’s bold pretension
to her power, not to mention,
to her hyperspace extension
(far beyond my comprehension
of the sundown’s bleak dimension) –
on exhausted beaten boulevards of foolish fretfulness.
Oblivion depletes me, voiding haste and hurried hassles,
me, a simple abject vassal,
trailing moonlit floating castles,
– fickle feet, but fingers facile
grasping straws and pendant tassels –
as I stumble through the rubble of forgetfulness.
I think I must be dreaming as I seem to see these things,
neath a sky alive with wings
(hear the Nightingale, she sings),
midst the whispered murmurings
soughed by Phantoms clad as Kings
pacing palaces in rings,
while their hapless footfall clings
to the sagging sinking sands of midnight’s splintered splattered ruins.
Entangled in the swirling leaves that spin in dizzy flurries,
(while the wind beside me scurries
as an ermined hermit hurries)
lurk my sleepy woes and worries
(glowing faint’ but growing blurry)
which, when plundered by the demon dusk, I’d left behind me strewn.
Continued in Part 2
Your laughter’s echoes are like a broken record in my hysterical brain
I misplaced my journey-like notebook, written in pen and pencil prudently and sincerely
Solace sunrays are embedded in your blue-green eyes and it’s driving me insane
Change is a challenging chore, but as someone once told me, “No one ever stops progressing, but it’s your job to improve frankly!”
Confined to this Depression wars, I feel like I’m frozen forever in his ribcage
Don’t accuse me for committing atrocious felonies – my intentions don’t lean on greed
I love God’s Wonderful deeds indeed! I loathe this fast-paced world, especially in this day of age, sponging up avarice and rage
Be careful what you watch, say, touch, hear, and taste – nourish your family seed
Visions of unforeseen, unforced miracles is a memory I hold dear honestly
I recall years spent on pondering about the tragedy in this fast-paced world and its many crimes
You scan my verses as if it’s a short story, catching your sheer curiosity
You have read me several times like a children’s book with silly Mother Goose Rhymes
I resemble shrouds of misfortune for cat’s sake...Now, am I worthy to be compared to a children’s tale? Am I the cause of the world’s calamity?
The dusk has dawned upon me…unearth the mysteries in the hollow, tacky atmosphere
Man’s plans were destined to be a fail from the beginning of time – why’s my heart thumping with pride and vanity?
Why should I rely on Man when I have God by my side? He’s the one and only that makes me have tears of hope, not frantic fear!
I’ve seen his wonders, so imperishable! I’m a witness to God’s phenomenal, faultless Work!
Why don’t you look at yourself in the mirror? Let’s face it – we’re all playing roles in this world’s tragedy!
Why are you throwing the blame on me? You resemble an irrational jerk!
I can’t bear being that individual who speaks his mind deliberately – I’m not acting immature! Straighten up your mind; stop acting so silly!
~!@#$%^&*())(*&^%$#@!~
Inspired by Jake Ponce’s poem: Ephemeral and the verse (entitled: The Key To My Heart) written by Jan Allison! Check both poems out and you’ll be amazed and it feels as if you’re placed in their shoes. It’s remarkable. Do look them up and read their works. You won’t regret it.
^Written by David William Breidenthal^
***Date this was written: Thursday, May 29, 2014***
The young boy was pale,
He walked slowly in the alley
No. 41.His skeleton hand hold a rusted tin can.
He was in business,for him it was.
On his innocent face,
In a modern world,who really forgotten
Kids like him was also human too.His eyes
Pasted on a piece of bread on the dirty pavement.
On his side was tall buildings,on the other was a busy EDSA.
A dove whose feather blacken by the third world metropolis,
Peeped down from the lamp post,
Measuring the distance of the bread on the ground
Look at the child,inclining its head side ward,
Then,their eyes meet,resting on each other stare
Like eternity,
And it flew toward the blinding sun.
The boy saw a man approached,
Polished shoes landed on his lunch
The gold Rolex,tailored clothes,big ring,
A heavy necklace hung loosely on beefy neck.
Surprised on a sudden hand that raised on his way,
"Move out!" bellowed angrily,then scurried quickly on a green traffic
light. "Fool..."the boy sighed.
Business is business,he thought,as he reached out the crushed bread
Uttered a little prayer,ate it religiously with tears on his eyes.
Every bite he remembered his little brother he left this morning
on their cartoon box house
At Smokey Mountain outside Manila,its smoke ascend forever
Till the end of time,because of the corrupt lordship in kings palace
His little brother burned at stake alive waiting for his pancit.
His father was an inmate at Bilibid prison selda katorse (14)
His mother was a girl in the street.
Then an old woman came out at the Binondo Church.
Walked briskly as the wind swept the dusk on summer days.
Stopped,a discolored dirt hand spread for an alms.
Irritated,she rummaged her purse,and gently place the one peso
on the boys hand,made sure to slow her movement,maybe the rest
Were looking at her, she raised her brow and smile
"Of course.", she said sweetly
Father hope will see this act she thought that
Might mention her name in homily,Mrs. Cerbo was kind to the poor.
He spit the coin and swipe it on his dirty torn shirt
And say..."God Blessed Maddame."
Then he ran at the little Sari-sari store
Brought a piece of bread,break it into halves
He hid his share on his pocket
Then tossed the half on the side walk
When the boy had gone, blue wing landed
Ate with pride and thinking, "stupid boy..stupid boy..".
Written by JWE and me:
The shadows in the light
Shine in your eyesight now
Let me hold you tonight
Shadows will follow you home
It will lead you wherever you roam
Somehow…
The shadows will lead you home from strife
Shelter you from destruction tonight
The shadows will lead you home all your life
The shadows tonight will be your light
All the things you shed upon me
Is the shadows of the light
All the things you hide from me
Is the shadows of the night
I want to be next to you right now
The shadows will lead you home…
Somehow…
Somehow…
The shadows of our lives
Will see us through right now
It's inside of you
You'll see it through
The shadows of darkness
Will turn into shadows of light
You got to see it through
That the light's inside you
You got to free yourself now
Shadows will lead you home…
Somehow…
The shadows will lead you home from strife
Shelter you from destruction tonight
The shadows will lead you home all your life
The shadows tonight will be your light
All the things you shed upon me
Is the shadows of the light
All the things you hide from me
Is the shadows of the night
I want to be next to you right now
The shadows will lead you home…
Somehow…
Somehow…
The shadows of our lives
Will see us through right now
It's inside of you
You'll see it through
Don't run away without a trace
We're walking together in this race
Heard your voice in the background
Doubt tries to make us captivity-bound
We won't be seperated for life…
If we end this unbearable strife...
Somehow…
The shadows will lead you home from strife
Shelter you from destruction tonight
The shadows will lead you home all your life
The shadows tonight will be your light
All the things you shed upon me
Is the shadows of the light
All the things you hide from me
Is the shadows of the night
I want to be next to you right now
The shadows will lead you home…
Somehow…
Somehow…
The shadows of our lives
Will see us through right now
It's been inside of you
Know it'll see you through
The shadow's light will see us through this race of grace
Darkness is all around us now, but we'll make it through
The light inside you - you and I must soon embrace
Before the dusk draws near and makes the dawn blue
The light is still deep inside you
Eventually, you'll see it through
Wherever you roam,
You'll find home