Long Enigma Poems

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


MAYA-An Enigma lost


In the depths of Tadoba, 
where shadows sway,
once lived Maya,
the Tigeress, in a mystical way. 
There was an silent under tone through the forest,
As she graced with majestic stripes, 
she Ruled the land, morning and night, 
especially the moonlit jungle, 
indeed a breathtaking sight. 

But fate, may you say? 
or a merciless hunter?
had its own course, 
And took Maya's spirit, with a force. 

Her spirit still dances as a gentle breeze,
amidst the lush greenery, 
where she once roamed and reigned,
there lies a story of her courage, 
a tale to be told. 

Through her amber eyes, the forest wept, 
for Maya's journey, 
in the wilderness suddenly snapped!

Her roars echo through the rustling leaves,
For every paw print left in the dust,
Carries the betrayal of a tiger's trust.

But in the tranquility of Tadoba's sigh, Maya's spirit soars, 
refusing to die. 
In the glow of twilight, 
her memory burns bright, 
Maya lives on, in the wild.

©?Chitra Arun


Premium Member Thunder's Roaring Fury

Written: January 18, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Robert James Liguori

                **************

The skies seemed erratic with dull rage. 
A freakish breeze is beginning to gage.  
Their pompous struggle across the sea. 
Evocative of some sort of antique age. 

From distant swale, a solid hush withdrew  
As recalcitrant clouds began to brew.  
Their chatoyant bellies flashed gilded fire,  
A strong omen no sailor could misconstrue.  

Then came the foofaraw — a copious roar,  
Waves irrupt as beasts against the shore.  
A shellback cursed the tempest’s devil heart,  
Calling it a gossip bent on settling a score.  

The wind, verbose in its wilful might,  
Rebuked the cliffs through the howling night.  
Its fustian bellow is inspissated with rain  
Turned every halcyon memory into fright.  

Lightning carved a partita through the sky,  
A wild, sequacious dance that dared not die.  
Thunder replied with slippery weight,  
Thick and rolling, an aficionado reply.  

The sea spun an enigma of rising foam. 
A xenogenesis of chaos away from home.  
Even gulls, those fickle arbiters of storm.  
Quite a false peace where shades roam.  
 
Yet with the storm girlish force and might, 
Through every sanguine hope taking flight,  
A lone lantern glimmered in limpid defiance,  
A spark of courage refusing the night.  

And when dawn chose to liaise with the land,  
Its brief gold brushed the waves as a hand  
Coddling the wreckage, gentle and genteel,  
As if forgiving the storm for all it had planned.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member You are here, yet not truly, suspended between two paths

You are here, yet not truly, suspended between two paths,
That intertwine, each with a drastically different end,
Your hesitation is like a dance on a fine wire, one step towards one,
Means leaving the other behind, but do you really want,
To bear the burden of that choice for eternity, do you?
Our choices define us more than our abilities,
And by choosing, you become what you have chosen to be.
In this place, you are present, yet still absent, like a shadow,
Seeking its body, you are the one they regretted, unforgettable,
And yet, your charm has a dark side, which not everyone
Can understand or appreciate; you can have influence or recognition,
But not both, for you either define something or are defined.
Within you lies an unexplored universe, a cosmos of choices,
Past and future, where stars are decisions, constellations,
The paths you have chosen or will choose, each step a point,
Of light or shadow, and yet, you are captive in this stream,
Of consciousness, where reality and dream intertwine in a
Complex tapestry of desires and fears, regrets and hopes.
Here, in this moment, you are an enigma, an endless story,
Written on the pages of time, a thought flowing like a river,
Through the contorted landscape of your mind, seeking answers,
In the echoes of your choices, while your soul navigates,
Through the tumultuous seas of existence, seeking a harbor of certainty,
A place where you can anchor and say: "This is who I am. This is my choice."
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Making Sense of It All

Please help me in my confusion 
Come to my rescue 

Do not leave me sitting all alone
On this lonely beach of abandonment 

Help me my brothers
Help me  my compatriots

Help me you all men of good will
To make a modicum of sense

From all disconcerting confusion around me
My country has become an enigma

Difficult to fathom and rescue
From self inflicted contradictions

We were in the abyss of despondency 
We were in dire need 

To wriggle out from Economic strangulation 
Kidnapping and banditry 

General insecurity and insurgency 
Glaring leadership failure
 
And like furious flash flood 
We trooped out with hope in our hearts

With one goal in mind
To cast our votes and make a change

Particularly the youth eager
To put their trust once more

In a system bereft of any trust
And like a Gale of disappointment

Our hope came cascading down 
To the abyss of disillusionment 

And cacophony of claims and denials
And waiting for the unseen hands of destiny 

To steer her from annihilation 
To the habitual and perpetual state of  inertia

The Palm And The Arms

Sugary and luscious things are very dear,
And are, cherished  by all --the young, old
Placid and the choleric ones as well, mere ;
So are warm smiles and the words of gold,
That more than touch,embalm and console
The lost ,cold, bold, or a  grave ruffled soul !    


It is an enigma : things sweet today or now
May turn to aversion or an unbearable aught
Once relished and held treasure all far above;
A nod may convey the true relief long sought,
Like a communion between the souls fraught
With varied feel or the foiled bearing distraught !


A peaceful palm can settle what a free cannon  
Sword, or missiles aye undo in battles and war
And the victory chaser is often left still in a stun
Like a twinkling, distant yet sure hopeful a star
Heavenly mercy, love and goodness doth beam
From an honest and true genial smile, to deem.
Form: Lyric


Premium Member Ethereal Extrapolation

past retentiveness
absurdity would not last
you or me
      idiosyncratic

riddles held not held
pain lurking
an obdurate innuendo
        bonafide

talks uttered 
not uttered by me
an acquaintance
         whimsical bearing

I can witness
concurrently
a squandering
magnetism balanced 
               voluptuousness

blurred cipher
withstanding at the egress
nevermore ingress
taught apotheosized
              in conundrum


THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived. Poem inspired by Poet Brian Strand.

Written: February 12, 2022

1st place contest winner 

A Strand (1073) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Other

Premium Member LOVELY LADIES SERIES magritte

Mostly an oddball was Magritte
here however a portrait sweet
Usually & reputably so surreal 
this 'cig girl' is so so real

Belgian Rene Magritte
whose paintings were so neat
Full of stilled enigmatic
in scenesso idiosyncratic

Rene Magritte so surrealiste
was also a moraliste
His art as a dream
never reveal what they dream

Renee Magritte,an enigma in a bowler hat
I wonder what we should make of that
perhaps they are his alter ego
he never said so we'll never know

so
     banal
                yet
deadpan
absurd
             clashing
             symbols
heard
          in 
              the eye
           where
imagery
is
                  all
Form: Clerihew

Premium Member Perplexing Truths

The enigma of space elicits awe,
and my soul seeks clarity of being.
For I see God's splendor, naked and raw,
in the relevance of what I'm seeing.

Eternity's lit by an ancient light;
a cosmic glow still visible today.
And gazing at trillions of lights at night:
I marvel at the stars, so far away.

Man treads upon the earth with timid feet;
afraid of what may lie beyond the grave.
For religion tends to taste bitter-sweet
making one feel like a religious slave.

A Christian doesn't question God's existence,
yet wonders why non-Christian souls don't count.
And thus, long-held truths confront resistance;
in identifying sins to surmount.

Twinkling lights piercing the darkness console
me, when the universe boggles my mind.
And viewing the cosmos comforts my soul,
for bathed in creation's light, faith roams blind.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member A Poet's Lament Recited

PERPETUAL POEMS
A poem is never merely still born,
It has its creator's eyes,ears and nose
Yet,unique it lives  a life of its own
Independent,well able to stand alone;
On others it can,influence,affect
Energise,direct or initiate
A response,unforseen and immediate
Or lie dormant,yet not dead,but waiting;
Watered by another's mutual bond
resurrected,to live again,again.
A WORDS WORTH
I recite and read aloud,
wander, lonely as a cloud,
then emulate and create
as memory stimulates;
Swim against poetry's tide
therein,an enigma hide,
perhaps,a step too far,with
Tennyson,crossing the bar;
I dream on Will's sonnet verse,
figuratively,sweet and terse,
lazing life away,with songs
compared to a summer's day.

To conjure an opening line
ever,remembered,as mine.
A POETS PROGRESS
Through a personal lens I think,then write
Perspective's gaze alters,from night to night,
As blotting paper,absorbs impressions
Of poetry's learned and unlearned lessons;
my anthology,my journey's log book
From mainstream or the back lanes I took,
An emphasis upon a favoured form.
Those endeavours which I,on reflection mourn;
I change,I alter or perhaps stand still
In retrospective of a fogotten will,
And yet,driven by this creative itch,
Each day,I,this word tapestry must stitch.

Listen to me read these poems on youtube under the name ichthyschiro
Form: Bio

Premium Member Vbt Practice 5 of 112

Tantra being the path of energy
To facilitate divine connectivity
Triad from gross to subtle to emptiness 
Are three basic tools for getting to oneness

Eventually no path higher or lower
Although some are faster and others slower
Essentially divine reality omnipresent 
It depends upon how we choose to be sentient 

Taking theoretical knowledge of chakras as a given
We may embark upon the offered suggestion
So plunging into technique number five
Vibrancy in stillness that makes us jive

Employing imagination along with our breath
Breath silent descends via Sushumna in stealth
Where at root in supreme glory resides the Para Shakti
Empathetic to our trepidation smiles in loving geniality 

The practice involves cessation of breath as prana 
Surrendering in wonderment to behold the divine enigma
Content as a child in the lap of the divine mother
We know not where it takes us for the bliss shower

There then being upon our part no striving
For at the Muladhara itself we feel the pulse vivifing
We rest all vicarious knowing of chakras & nadis 
Each cell within our form holding the divine in entirety 

Para Shakti illumines the Sushumna with her radiance
Each chakra in its own right Shiva in full brilliance 
We thus rest as Shakti decides imbibing the divine elixir
For who are we to suggest any imagined vector

As far as subtlety goes the Sushumna too has layers
Revealing invisible conduits depending upon our prayer
Unfathomable is the ultimate divine mystery
Yet each coordinate perfect for divine connectivity 

27-August-2020
Form: Rhyme

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