Long Embarking Poems
Long Embarking Poems. Below are the most popular long Embarking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Embarking poems by poem length and keyword.
Amidst the wild's embracing arms, where verdant canopies extend,
Lies a sanctuary of serenity, where souls with nature blend.
The whispers of the ancient trees, that rustle with tales untold,
Guide us through the vibrant woods, where life’s mysteries unfold.
Footsteps softly tread the path, where countless beings have strolled,
Embarking on a timeless journey, through forest tales of old.
Every leaf, a chapter written, in the earth’s enduring book,
Bears witness to the transient moments, in every glance we took.
Dappled sunlight gently dances, through branches intertwined,
Illuminating fleeting shadows, where light and dark combine.
Feathered troubadours serenade, from perches high and free,
Composing songs of wilderness, a symphonic, natural spree.
Beneath the lush and fertile soil, secrets quietly entwine,
A network of life’s sustenance, in every root and vine.
The gentle brook tells stories, as it courses through the glen,
A melody of flowing time, that’s echoed now and then.
In the hush of the tranquil wild, where echoes softly dwell,
We find a haven to reflect, under nature’s enchanting spell.
Every breath of the whispering wind, that caresses a weary heart,
Is a reminder of unspoken bonds, that nature does impart.
In the silence of the wilderness, where eternity seems to linger,
We feel the pulse of the living earth, as if touched by a gentle finger.
Through every whisper in the wild, may we find a peaceful song,
An ode to the timeless dance, where all beings belong.
Brainstorming (For Me) Generates "Writer's Block"
Lesson obstruction,
but more so an over
whelming flood of ideas
makes dredging, conceiving
than giving birth
to an amenable notion
more difficult than grabbing,
(even a tony tiger) by the tail,
who readily admits
said titled quasi moniker
denoting onset, sans
(to experience authorial dearth)
of satisfactory acceptable theme
(first to pinpoint, than expound)
more accurate generalization
cerebral struggle
regularly visits this Earth
ling, when embarking upon
a literary creative enterprise,
thus gluttonous analogy
to swollen girth
after gorging ravenous
appetite on verge
to keel (crushing
screened iron curtain garrison)
over 'pon arduously
(belching at every
step, viz process),
while lumbering
to heavenly hearth,
(a Homeric Odyssey) filling
the dining hall with mirth,
thus, I hoop fur
ewe dear reader,
spending your time
whiz wool worth
the effort receiving insight about,
how this logophile really
haint goot much clout
to boast, (nor doth,
he...wrack his mind
to coon sitter) himself devout
lee gifted, (cuz...he aint),
nor does yours truly
make pretenses to flout
any arrogance, bombast,
conceit, et cetera,
yet avers pain
staking effort
(akin to sinking grout)
to plug up gushing geyser of
superfluous excess bursting,
competing, and exploding
beyond capacity of this lout
finding me (a
piggish porcine – person)
hogtied with no
recourse but to pout
reaching pig tailed wits end,
as pertains to this poetic scout,
who welcomes inspirational uber lyft
through swiftly tailored
harried sty hill.
MY SOUL'S JOURNEY.
Oh my mind!
Oh my mind focus on the lord Almighty.
Think about His Majesty.
Let your eyes capture him on his throne,
And show what he is like to my phone.
Oh my tongue!
Oh my tongue, my mind's eye has projected the image of the supernatural and indescribable being,
So switch your phone from mute,
And tell my whole to salute.
Sing hymns unto him until my heart wakes .
Oh my heart!
My tongue is singing your favorite hymns in line with a melodic rhythm.
So don't hesitate to wake from your dream.
Love and worship him whose image my mind's eye captured with my tongue's tune.
Join my tongue and mind to facilitate my soul's journey.
Oh my soul!
Keep embarking on the journey,and don't be weary.
Where that indescribable being of whose image my mind's eye captured is, there you have to be.
My mind, tongue and heart are there to provide escort, so don't worry.
The journey isn't easy but will be worthy.
It was a little Girl and a Male Greyhound Bus Driver. It was a little Girl who travelled quite frequently on a Greyhound bus from Houston, Texas to Lake Charles, Louisiana to visit her Grandparent. Being a young passenger alone, the Greyhound Bus Driver known as Mike always looked after her through her journey on his bus. Mike treated the little Girl as if it was his daughter he never had. Mike’s Wife had died and he never had any children. It was always Mike’s friendly warm hands at the Greyhound bus steering wheel and his storytelling vibes that embraced the fatherly approach from Mike, the Greyhound bus Driver. Mike was the guardian Angel to the little girl from the years then and still embarking even today. But there is a change. The little girl is all grown up into an adult woman. The little girl now adulthood never forget the caring heart that Mike had for her as a child. Admiration came a long way. Stacey was that little girl, but now has fond memories back then. Stacey spends time with Mike on Thanksgiving, Christmas and Birthdays they spend together with each other.
Stacey’s Grandmother passed some time ago, but that doesn’t stop her in her journey with Mike being like a faithful Dad in her travels from Houston to Lake Charles. Many miles shared together. Once a little Girl captured a Hound bus Driver’s heart. The watch and listen being a true story of its own. Highway miles and loving smiles.
Living is like embarking on a ship
A ship having no specific destination
A ship with no captain
No sailors
No handymen
A ship which simply has to keep sailing
Amidst the rough waters of Earth's seas!
Prone to be easily sunk
It imbibes,
In its passengers,
The feeling of uncertainty
Allowing them, though
To relax
And to hope
A little
By providing them spiritual pathways
To try to save their consciousness
After they shall shed off their bodies!
The pathways are played to the passengers
As the ship determinedly goes on its way
The pathways are played,
All the time, continuously,
Even if some prefer to listen to life's songs rather!
Life, so like a maniac,
Reaches out to the ship and pushes itself in
Baffling the passengers with its many tricks and illusions
So that they do believe in it and forget
That,
Should they try to step out of the ship,
They would fall in the waters
As,
Each passenger is meant to reach a specific harbour!
As they fall, blindly and ignorantly in the raging waters,
Life roars with laughter
Feeling so mighty
As it knows
That those who fall into its trap
Will have to start its game all over again!
I, for one, remain rooted on the deck of the ship
I have seen through life's games
And I fall not for them
Yet, it happens that I long to allow myself
To fall in those rough waters
As doubt and distrust fill my whole essence up
And I simply wonder
About the meaning and the purpose of it all!
However, each time,
The power of faith rings its bell loud in my heart
Pushing me away from the ship's edges
Why, if life does be with its ship and with its rough waters
Pray, it must surely have its own purpose
Doubt does show itself up in my soul
But then,
Is it not said that
Faith gets strengthened through doubt!
Pursuit for elusive prey
teases yours truly
into treacherous catacombs
dangerous mentally
challenging pitfalls,
sets small hairs of back
on camp creeks edge
of night, where dark shadows
evoke outer limits
of twilight zone
prompting me constantly questioning
purposefulness, qua hair raising pursuit
embarking these modern roman times
all for naught,
nonetheless I chide self
failing to heed
emotional, mental, psychological...fallout
in sum re: springing Jack in the box reflex
to sally forth and earn kudos,
asper potential Prince Valiant.
Thus situated with blank computer screen
capacious external Lenovo for myopia
(and incessant squiggly floaters to boat),
this literary glutton for punishment
feverishly fixates to plumb depths
measuring morin 10,000
leagues under the see
ming lee impossible mission
to ensnare nearly extinct
fluttering, lyfting, shutterflying...
smarts to outwit unsuspecting
beak henning quest
tendering, tasting uber victory
quivering crossbow
targeting yawping
zoological discovery - channeling
primed with taut fletched arrow
on high alert for stool pigeon
cautiously optimistic kickstarting
another futile attempt dagnabbit
experiencing prestige,
oh...and by the way...,
no animal harmed
regarding made for video poem
gamely capturing quarry scotched,
nor gruesome scene
synonymous quasi abattoir
representative bird den sum
bloodless coup deeming
endeavor par excellence.
Fingers madly scramble
to poach skittering idea
fry day most ideal
omelette ya know,
aye feel yolked to defeatism,
one after another faux
promising brainstorm egging
quickly flitting inaccessible
potential flash in frying pan
just as fast dashing
into bajillion pieces
shell shocked scrivener
scribbling lame as duck
goose laying golden egg...
dropping immediately out of sight,
maybe best resigning forlorn
inchoate never albumen,
albeit quite linguistic stretch for
(all be human success story)
prospects beyond reach
ova this wretch
New York Times
bestseller author jinxed
forever dooming yours truly
grinding poverty my ill fate.
In a world where roads diverge,
Choices whisper, secrets surge.
Paths unfurl, uncertain, wide,
Guiding footsteps, side by side.
A fork unveiled, a moment's plea,
A crossroads laced with mystery.
Do I venture left or right?
Which direction claims the light?
The first path gleams with golden hue,
Familiarity in its view.
Well-trodden steps, a beaten trail,
Promising comfort, without fail.
The second path, a whispered breeze,
Whispering tales of untold seas.
Uncharted territories abound,
Adventure's call, a haunting sound.
A choice that holds both hope and fears,
Embarking on uncharted frontiers.
A leap of faith, a daring leap,
For where new paths unfold, dreams keep.
Yet, nostalgia tugs with gentle force,
Nudging me back to the familiar course.
To chase my dreams or play it safe,
The battle rages, heart to faith.
The forked road calls with resolute might,
A tapestry woven with depth and light.
Each path unique, a story to weave,
Where passion thrives, and fears recede.
I close my eyes, I search my soul,
Listening to whispers, becoming whole.
For in the end, it's not the road we choose,
But the lessons learned, the life we infuse.
So I take a breath, I forge ahead,
Along the path where dreams are spread.
Where roads diverge, I'll find my way,
Guided by hope, day by day.
For in this dance of choices made,
I'll learn, grow, and never fade.
And when I reach the final bend,
I'll know I've lived, not just pretend.
Where roads diverge, I'll find my song,
With every step, I'll sing along.
Embracing the journey, come what may,
For where roads diverge, I'll find my way.
for love too sometimes conflict inevitable
even with desires rested life not so simple
for we live not alone and justice must prevail
others depend upon us so we must not fail
to defend as of ability path of righteousness
outcomes as any heart open in graciousness
yet by specious reasoning wrong looks right
so to get to clarity we employ spherical sight
rotating polarities and positions and opinions
visualising with the detractor our divine union
before embarking upon any action irretrievable
we dismiss our own ego cravings inexhaustible
thereafter what will be will be
28-July-2020
Please pardon mine assertion
I dared to surmise
familiarity with me,
an avid reader and prolific writer
(mainly to appease personal pleasure)
thus upon embarking upon
reaching out, your curiosity piqued.
Daily onslaught from schoolyard
punkish bullies ace
thus, storybooks provided
haven to experience liberation
cowardice, fearfulness, insecurity
low opinion regarding base
sic selfhood writ large upon,
this then diminutive carapace,
I firmly believe stunted growth
with me hallowed face
non-verbal passive behavior
ideal fodder did grace
for carnivorous, ferocious,
incredulous, and malicious preface
to young adulthood oppressing
quiet soul as if race
sing existence qua
Wounded Knee leg uss see
(possibly trace sub bull
during fertilization,
conception, and accruing
gestation within, what
would become a ways
trill womb did) fetal wretch.
Mailer daemons choked bravery
absent courage did endear
grievous inner mission
self-starvation parents did fear,
(which evolved via gradations)
omitting first one repast to share
then two, and finally declining
sustenance into a lad opting to die
butta as a licensed practical nurse
(LPN) this then puny guy
became top priority,
and my mother resorted
to whipping high
lee nutritious concoctions
in tandem with
giving me iron injections
Subash Khanal
It was quite unexpected, our physical encounter,
Today, I have stepped into your courtyard,
And I hum along a love song.
At times,
I wandered, holding hands,
Embarking on a journey of thousands of miles,
Even today, your color blends with mine,
In your voices, mine echo,
In the rhythm of your heart, my melody resounds,
If you're hurt, I feel pain afar,
Lost in the peaks of dreams,
Perhaps, you'll be saddened.
Oh Benefactor, You, indeed, are yourself,
There's no doubt,
You are just like you, no hesitation,
Yet, the skeletons of our histories are the same,
In the excavation of our genes, the same form appears,
Which is yours,
The boundaries have made you into you,
And me into me.
Boundaries are our truths,
They won't mislead,
Boundaries are our global forms,
They won't be lowered.
In these very boundaries,
Lies another flight,
In the sky of that flight,
There won't be any limits,
We know, For the flight of the mind in the sky,
There are no boundaries.