Long Enshrining Poems
Long Enshrining Poems. Below are the most popular long Enshrining by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Enshrining poems by poem length and keyword.
I wonder how the luster of evening,
could hush despair amidst its glow, but,
its touch upon this skin escapes me
as the light reflects a child's face, gone:
Through nightfall's sail, eyes weep in private
while the rain flows intermittently,
it spills...like dying stars along the roadside
until this body is drenched in cold yearning.
Within gloss of dew, cotton candy days are recalled
enshrining laughter on Barnum Bailey fairs-
then, jelly-smudges circle her girlish mouth,
a wiggle on a red bike's new handle zigzagging away
where flavors of revelry linger, still...still.
And now, dusk creates another empty place
inside more holes in a pinpoint of ebon clouds,
that I am left alone
without a voice... choked by reality's pinch
when early dawn trickles in beats---
and singing myself to slumber
no one hears a Rockabye's wail, except...
Written 9/14/2018
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Shush, Did You Hear That:
Anthony Slausen's Contest
In the melancholic hour of introspection, where twilight paints the sky with sadness,
Religious souls often walk, hand in hand with righteousness,
Forsaking the tender embrace of compassion for the cold certainty of being right,
Clinging to a fragile mantle woven from threads of egotism,
As if their faith could ennoble their identity with divine approval.
In the sacred sanctuary of belief, they build altars to their own image,
Domesticated echoes of God's infinite transcendence,
Reduced to comforting whispers that mirror their desires,
Learning of the Divine as children learn of Santa Claus,
Yet allowing those notions to ossify, remaining infantile and unchallenged.
Oh, irony, as we cast aside Santa’s joyful illusions,
Maturing our visions of myth and childhood fantasy,
While our understanding of the Eternal remains in the naivety of youth,
Unprepared to confront the vast, untamed wilderness of divine transcendence.
Here, in the labyrinth of our minds, echoes of childlike perceptions resonate,
Yet the true divine is an unfathomable abyss, a dance of shadows and light,
Beyond the gilded cages of our self-fashioned sanctity,
A whisper in the wind, a flame in the depths of night.
We baptize our egos in holy waters, seeking absolution for our vanities,
Enshrining our beliefs in stone, unwilling to weather the storms
That might erode our crafted idols, revealing the raw, untempered truth,
Which asks not for our righteousness, but for the tenderness of a compassionate heart.
In this silent pilgrimage through the chambers of our soul,
We must unshackle the Divine from our limited grasp,
Allowing the boundless to flow, to mingle with the currents of our existence,
To guide us through the dark waters of humility and grace.
Let us not forget, in our zeal to be right, the gentle call of compassion,
The holy whisper that beckons us beyond ourselves,
To embrace the transient and the eternal, the darkness and the dawn,
For in that sacred embrace, we find the wondrous, ineffable face of true divinity.
Thus, in the quiet of twilight, among the shadows of our beliefs,
We are called to transcend our domesticated notions,
To embark on a journey of deeper understanding,
Where compassion and humility lead us to the heart of the Infinite,
And righteousness melts away in the light of true and boundless love.
Heart of the family when special moments are shared
Offering a warm welcome after a hectic day at work
Meaning a blissful haven to find peace and comfort
Enjoying each moment of your life with happiness
Smiling when you remember an anecdote from relatives
While you are celebrating festivities with your family
Entertaining with the late night movies and shows
Elating by hours with fun and great amusement
Transporting your mind to the days when you were a kid
Hearthy food is prepared in the kitchen with a touch of love
Obtaining the satisfaction that your dear ones are well attended
Molding a bond so strong that persists for a lifetime
Enshrining for the next generations through the years
Home Sweet Home Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Fifth Place
February 3, 2016
Before golden opportunity
(goes no argh hue mint
the way of Long John Silver)
doth fade and dwindle
not necessarily cuz the missus
did (NOT) bribe and swindle
an ambition (for nor rhyme nor reason)
arose to kindle...
Affectionate communication
employing (figurative) gambol
probably testing your patience
to decrypt me trademark ramble
essential crux of matter after
ye prune thorny verbiage,
metaphorical berry good bramble.
Methinks yar psyche slid into funk
cuz usual upbeat gregarious disposition
of late (June 26th, 2020)
analogous to reclusive monk
whose nonverbal body language
shrieks "LEAVE ME THE ƒµ©* ALONE"
lest recipient (in this case yours truly)
receives judicious suckerpunch
finding him landing - ouch
on his buttucks - kerplunk!
Nevertheless as one
mister misanthrope to another
who could pretend cavorting
as asinine make bull heave brother,
(or undergoing extreme makeover,
and stretching imagination voila
one garden variety generic beastie boy
rendered into... yup, your grandmother.
Hoop fully no unpleasant memory
doth suddenly unfold
linkedin to said very old
boot (moost likely)
long deceased family member
turned to dust commingled with auld
Lang syne amidst weathered tombstones,
markedly intact skeletons absent
any flesh o'the rear
some etched with hands folded in prayer
mausoleum enshrining even in death near
(think grim reaper kingly leer)
still provoking jeer
profligate (yet prolific) paperback writer heir
housing generations ghostly forebear
comprising your family tree, once... dear
father, mother, sister, brother, et cetera
who profusely guzzled beer.
No intent to induce fury if playful banter
loosed psychological trip wire
merely harmless ambition to deliver mirth
lobs strike out as decided
by just now summoned umpire
on the ball punning away without tire
greatly flattered if literary antics inspire
ye to pen memoirs,
which become New York Times
bestseller, thus countless clamoring demands
to serve as ghostwriter hire
prompt ye with fame and fortune
before thee doth exhale last breath and expire
when moments prior,
I while impersonating a squire
wished ye a cheery bon voyage.
Oh, soundless stars like
a solid-looking, fragrant brook.
I'm standing there,
before the sunset, and
covering the golden chains
of the stars
with beaming kisses,
l like a fated chrysanthemum;
enshrining an untamed
piercing forest.
Now that the leaves turn amber brown,
Memories gather to unfold
On life's journey, its seasons’ crown;
As tomorrow rides … warmly bold.
Memories gather to unfold
When deep patience bestows time's flare
As tomorrow rides … warmly bold,
To nourish joy beyond compare.
When deep patience bestows time's flare
Enshrining brave moments …aflame,
To nourish joy beyond compare
With prayers of faith in love’s name.
Enshrining brave moments …aflame,
On life's journey, its seasons’ crown;
With prayers of faith in love’s name,
Now that the leaves turn amber brown.
Contest: What Will Tomorrow Bring
Sponsored by Eve Roper 6/24/2017
In a valley where our hands etched the moon
Through luster of nightfall’s October veil;
We shared confidences through hazed monsoon
As I rambled on, keeping each detail
Of common views…angels, books, a jazz tune
While a serenade for two charmed night’s grail,
Igniting warmth with his presence everyday…
Slowly, we knew this was destiny’s way.
Through persistent journeys, time clasped one spark
Enshrining three years graced by light above,
A pledge to remain steadfast, to embark
On endless devotion crowned by flamed love.
Again, he offered eternity’s mark,
That would seal our vow like heaven’s white dove
And my moist eyes glistened just like before,
“Dear one, fate shall lead us to evermore.”
Love Story Contest For Silent One
Form of Rhyme: Ottava Rima
Re-submitted 11/3/2017
Elder jays roam the tainted winds in herds,
Alighting upstream like most holy birds
Into the threshold of an inky night,
And journey forth with brave rafters, onwards
For lofty a view, their sweet rest’s delight.
Although clouds withdraw from a hued backdrop
This avian route, dismal, nary a flop
Under bloodstained gust surviving a dodge;
Before piteous age taints life , non-stop
With hopes to reach their own destiny’s lodge.
Yet, the valiant flock abandons a cry
Invoking hymns droning a lullaby
Through morn hours, the conception of new birth
Sends angel wings on gates of heaven’s sky…
Enshrining old jays’ flight with endless mirth!
................................
Rhyme Time With 5 Contest: For Laura Loo
10/6/2017
Checked via howmanysyllables.com, rhymezone.com
*Image of Freedom Pub
Freedom Pub
Marred fictions of emus, ostriches
dip their heads neath, were hailed
by Ancient Rome's false divination,
of individuals, whose conquest of
enshrining their implied role.
Emancipated exacters, whereto,
the subjugators of the unlearned
majority, daily context by untruths,
orientations hard-pressed, by
tainted thumbs of paperwork,
loads conveniently,
mache for obvious design.
Decaying precursors demonocracy,
aptitudes knotting promotes,
a panache promenade of quilted
quids, as characters clash with
reality quarrels, as a shoreline
of sculpted castled sands, drift to
its emptiness of their costly
noted, S.O.S.
The absence of freedom is a true
reinvention for the masses, to
rummage and further wander, its
lineage of class enumeration
liken to some zombie apocalypse,
clueless beginning.
Lo and behold, its keepers adrift,
salty surges hath rise o'er, the
fresh living waters.
2023 January 07
*HM*
Freedom Pub
~~Joe Maverick: Judged 2023 January 09
You see tis not problem let say for instance
a family to have two noble family houses
even though age, even though power, wealth and influence
what is there for people to share the schools, stations
and for example market places?.
Can they change even the nature of news through
democracy? or fast the glass?.
Let assume that the school is the country is the world,...
To be frank what have they done in the school other than
integration and brotherhood and humanity at large.
So much such that no department or methodology for
instance will expire.
I feel that this is a yonder development of the older
machinery, enshrining the status quo- though somehow
dirty today- is not as it is seen- the mission like a child
growing will deny the childhoodness if not a sometimes
mologue whims?.