Long Enormity Poems
Long Enormity Poems. Below are the most popular long Enormity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enormity poems by poem length and keyword.
Inside an old library of things uncountable
clippings, extracts, jottings, and snippets.
‘things’
nothing can be
excluded
yes the air is musty, thickly clothed,
muffled and club fingered,
incidentals are listed
on the cuff of the half-remembered.
Mind dust wafts from one place to another.
Orts of loss, tittle, and trifles. A library
in pieces.
A fine looking woman approaches
she has an armful of books.
Maybe she works here
or maybe she works only
in this moment.
Behind her
things begin to fall off shelves.
“Don’t worry.”
She is Scottish and actually says
“dinna fash yersel.”
An old Celtic grandma peeps out of her eyes.
The enormity of every-thing
pecks and probes.
She places more books
on the reading table.
The thought of a ‘reading table’
amuses.
Outside the library the world is simplifying.
A fresh sky begins to write
in a language only spoken of
in empty rooms.
It’s a braw uncluttered daylight
that greets awakening eyes.
If I had the magic wand in my hand
Oh smugly before God I will stand
and proclaim that if only for a day
I finally get to do things my way.
I’ll undo all He verily so far has done
and see that love reigns, hate gone,
One world living as one in harmony
made not of tribes and nations many.
I’ll shrink the enormity of the heavens,
In His name forbid to wield any weapons,
Make the scorching deserts a sanctuary
since wilderness doesn’t seem necessary.
I’ll rewind the time to the days of yore
and reset it to the simpler state as before,
Make man gentler and content to the core
For what I have seen, I can see no more.
But wait, I can wish this magic wand forever
to use day after day -- now isn’t that clever?
Work out a treaty between God and the Devil
and hope good and evil to each other be civil.
~03/17/23
~Contest: Writing Challenge 'M' words
~Sponsor: Constance La France.
I’ve wondered if, when it’s raining,
If the Lord is weeping?
I’ve wondered if the thunder…
Is God’s voice – in all its enormity.
I’ve wondered if, when my heart is breaking,
If the Lord can see…
Beyond all my tears and fears,
Into the moment when I’ll find relief.
I’ve wondered if, when night comes,
If the Lord blinks in the sky,
When those stars twinkle and glow,
Flickering in shadows as the wind puffs.
I’ve wondered if, when I’m breaking,
If the Lord can see through the sorrow,
Into the soul, where I’m aching –
Reassuring me that, in time, He will reconcile.
I’ve wondered if, when the story ends,
If the Lord takes up His pen,
Writing a new beginning, a new opening
For a tale that will never close.
I’ve wondered if, when there is a sunset,
If the Lord has taken to painting,
Beyond the seas and the mountains,
Across the waves, through the pines and laurels.
I’ve wondered if, when hope seems gone,
If the Lord reminds us – He’s alive,
And, just when we want to give up, He stirs…
A gentle that reassures there is love, sweetest love.
These ragged shards of breath, catching in my lungs with grasping fingers of jagged glass
Howling tormented wolves in my mind, clawing and shredding the last remnants of the last
Desperate attempts to live, temerarious in the quest to quench their thirst with blood
Monsters lurk in the shadows of my eyes, hungry for my conscious suffering
No rest, no peace, no sleep for sinners, servants to a greater ill, mindless revolutions of pain
Spinning endlessly in space, reaching for a cold and distant sun without the light of lies
A frozen, broken waste stretches in the expanse of my eyes, terror stalking ceaselessly
In every hidden juncture of the labyrinth of my mind, dark embodiments of hatred, shame, and anger
My eyelids are weighted, crusted in the sands of the blazing desert of my soul
Scraping away my retina with every blink, gasp, choke for air, smothering and breathless
Into infinity I carry loneliness, alone, unwept, unsung, swept into the vast waters of time
Drowning in the enormity of insignificance I wait, sleepless.
Glass Ceiling
Crouched here in the corner of the ceiling
watching myself – fighting to endure –
I stifle tears, for I am but his essence
growing dimmer as his color pales.
He struggles to make sense of life – in death.
Whereas I struggled to make sense of death – in life.
I watched him weep at the passing of others
who would not find time for him.
I tried to touch him, to reach him,
to let him know that we were not alone,
that we had each other. I think he felt it – once-
then pulled away with a shiver.
He – We – were so much more than memory,
so much more than tissue, and sinew, and pain.
We Were, dammit! Even now, as he struggles
to decide our fate we still – Are.
None but me have know the all of him,
his deepest fear, the enormity of his love,
his loneliness amid the crowds,
his presence among the lonely.
I have always been there for him – in spirit,
had his back, echoed his spiritual song,
directed his eyes toward the sunrise
of a troubling night’s trepidation.
We were the best of what we are
so I am saddened. Not by his imminent death,
but by the inevitable separation of
the animator from the animation.
10/12/2016
submitted to – Personification – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Lewis Raynes
Chelsea FC Takes Abramovich's Fall
Europe is responsible for the war,
not CFC...who is taking the fall.
US played the devil's advocate de facto,
Putin turn deaf hears, no word from NATO.
Perpetual and cruel hatred longering,
UK government shy from stopping the warmongering
Saudi government from owning Newcastle.
CFC sanctioned at the slightest chance without hassle
and employees suffer another man's sanctions.
Who's responsible for these calamitous situations?
Who's coming after Putin in this debacle we all see?
Cowards will rather attack the fatherless CFC
Double-standard and sheer hypocrisy
Only highlights United Kingdoms' enemity.
Innocent staffs can't fathom the enormity
of the sanctions backed by stern actions,
melted daily by the government organizations
No one to save the innocent Chelsea,
Not Bates, not Roman, not the NHS nor Halsey
abandoned by father Roman who is on the run,
forcing the father to disown his own son,
leaving the Blues feeling blue,
and looking a shadow of themselves like a lone fool.
Europe is responsible for the war, not CFC.
Hope this is all father justice sees.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright©16th March, 2022.
Inside a library of things uncountable,
clippings, extracts, jottings, and snippets
gather words out of nothing.
Mind dust wafts.
A woman approaches with an armful
of my early, roughly cobbled poems.
behind her, unwritten books
begin to fall off bookless shelve.
“Don’t worry” she says,
she is Scottish and actually says:
“dinna fash yersel.”
An old Celtic grandma peeps out of her eyes.
The enormity of everything
overcomes the moment.
She places the fragmented scribblings
in an untidy pile upon a small reading table.
The thought of a ‘reading table’
amuses me;
she smiles while the rest of her vanishes.
After reading all the table had to offer,
I leave the building empty-handed.
Outside, a mackerel sky
begins to rewrite some passing clouds,
Like myself,
it is constantly editing and revising
its reality
the way a bowl fish does
when it swims full circle.
In the land of finite, measurable calculus of existence,
You are a silhouette of mystique, esoteric obscurity,
A symbol ambiguous, living among realm of precision,
Unreachable to quotidian and simplistic enumeration,
Unamenable to honoring bounds of constrained world;
Yet, allured in metaphors, much alike a pretty woman,
Serenaded by poetic adulation in verses of fascination.
We invoke you when enormity we can’t comprehend
Being clueless of its reach or whether its journey ends:
Numbers uncountable, we postulate, seek your vicinity,
Universe we can’t grasp, we claim, expands infinitely,
Time propelling future, we surmise, ticks into eternity,
Whether space or distance you’re un-fathomed entity;
Oh! Infinity, the truth is, we can’t clasp your immensity.
Why, O, why you chase the unknown and the elusive?
Such a dry emotion to be everlasting without feelings!
Being eternal or endless ~offers not a beloved meaning
Unless you can be sensual, evermore of love romantic
Or the vows tolling forever in unbreakable relationships
Or timelessly striving to create treasures of memories
Or a paradise on earth blooming heavenly, perpetually.
Oh! Infinity, be laudable as can be, to instincts of poetry
But, remain true to self ~unknowable, nebulous intrigue.
November 22, 2021
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 8 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Of Infinity
Alone, yet not completely alone, drifting in the labyrinth of my thoughts,
The tiny fingers of my soul reaching through the void,
Yearning for the solace of your guiding hand, a lighthouse in the stormy sea of my mind.
So I dash, swift as a shadow through the tangled woods,
Legs straining under the weight of dread, like Atlas bearing the heavens.
Each step, a Herculean struggle, each breath, a battle against unseen titans,
Bearing the enormity of relentless fears, ancient phantoms that haunt every move.
Every turn in this sylvan maze echoes with my yearning,
The once enchanting allure of nature now a distant memory, lost in the mists of time.
The once cheerful woods now wear a veil of melancholy,
Unveiling a strange and haunting portrait, as if painted by the ghosts of forgotten dreams.
As twilight's fingers gently caress the land,
An awareness of your restless quest rises like a whisper in the wind.
Your frantic search, a mirror of mine, reflecting our shared solitude,
Impelling me to embrace patience and calm, like a monk in silent meditation.
"Take courage," whispers the wind, an ancient and wise voice,
A beacon in the enveloping night, guiding me through the darkness.
Strength found in stillness, calm in chaos, like the eye of a storm,
A plea, a promise, a resilient resolve, echoing through the vast expanse of my soul.
In this mystical dance of shadows and light, I find a strange solace,
For though we wander lost and alone, our spirits are intertwined,
Bound by an invisible thread, woven from the essence of our deepest desires.
And in this shared journey, we find not just each other, but also a part of ourselves,
Lost and now found, in the endless labyrinth of our intertwined destinies.
Something stirring, twisting, darkening in my mind
I wake to see myself through the faded windows of time
Still in this place of cold metal and stone
For too long now it seems that’s all I have ever known
So now I lie down and wait for tomorrow’s next big fight
Knowing in my heart an end to an Almost Endless Night
Crowded, Shrouded faces everywhere
Eyes growing cold from nothing left to share
Shackled down by the weight of their own enormity
Without Grace from the one their souls twist to deformity
But to those that believe a new dawn springs light
And an endowment of strength to challenge this Almost Endless Night
For a life unbecoming a man such as me.
A family awaits him patiently to see what he will be.
No longer wishing the road that desire brought him down.
Wants of the flesh give way to Gods, a harder road is found
A multitude of apologies never uttered to this plight
And never again shall I go down into this almost endless night
Exiting, vexing my mind screams freedom
In my minds eye I see the banner of Gods kingdom
Knowing that now all the prophesies ring true
Of freeing all the captives, the door I go through
Will take me now from this lands painful blight
And enter me now into the Sun of his never ending light.