Long Entering Poems
Long Entering Poems. Below are the most popular long Entering by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Entering poems by poem length and keyword.
The summer grass of Montana waves in the heat of the noon,
Where the valley of the Little Bighorn waits beneath the silent moon;
The cottonwoods whisper along the river, the winding waters flow,
Unknowing the storm that gathers close, the impending grief and woe.
A nation of lodges spreads wide on the plain, the Sioux and Cheyenne and the brave,
Gathered in freedom to hunt and to live by the river's cool wave;
With Sitting Bull's vision of soldiers that fell like grass in the gale,
And Crazy Horse riding to shield the camp from the encroaching trail.
Down from the ridge comes the Seventh Cavalry, banners of dust in the air,
Led by the general with yellow-ringed hair, riding away from despair;
Divided the forces, the columns unlinked, marching to strike at the heart,
Believing the foe would scatter and run before the first shot could start.
The valley awakens to thunder of hooves, the crack of the repeating gun,
As Reno makes contact and crosses the river beneath the fierce afternoon sun;
The smoke rolls thick through the timbered brush, the panic and chaos arise,
And troopers retreat to the circle of wagons, amid the dust-blinded skies.
Then Custer presses the northernmost rise, seeking the flank of the camp,
Hearing the drumming of thousands of feet and the earth-shaking tramp;
Out of the coulees the warriors pour, countless as stars in the night,
A tide of resistance, fierce and unyielding, entering into the fight.
Arrows like rain blot the bright summer sky, the rifle-fire echoes around,
And riderless horses run wild through the smoke across the blood-spattered ground;
Circle by circle, the trap closes fast wholly engulfed at the foot of the sun-blasted hill,
As the sound of the shooting begins to recede and the valley grows eerily still.
On Last Stand Hill the blue uniforms fade in the dust and the heat,
A tragic collision of empires and fates, a moment of bitter defeat;
The shadows stretch long as the twilight descends, wrapping the slain in its shroud,
While the victors look out o'er the silent expanse, unbroken, defiant, and proud.
Now the grass grows green on the battlefield slope, where monuments whisper of old,
Of the stories of courage and sorrow and loss that history forever will hold;
Where the waters of Bighorn still wind through the plain,
Lies a monument carved where the spirits remain.
Entering the doorway through my heart
Following the nuance of space
Allowing expansion ~ mystery ~ and curiosity
To guide me into realms of spiritual awakening
Journeying through moments in time
Filled with opportunities
To appreciate and cherish
To express gratitude
To be connected to the forces
Of nature and humanity
Together we take flight
Guided by white hawks
Silently lifting off
Into darkened skies
Kissed by gray hues
Alighting on silken clouds
Transporting us higher
A deep inhale as gentle breezes
Tickle my earlobes and caress my soul
My heart is open ~ expanding ~ gaining insight
Exposed
My tears flow freely
I allow the pain and suffering to become me
As I focus on illumination and helping others
With embracing arms and heart alive
Calling out to our elders and animal spirits
To join in our collective dance
The soft wind carries us
We float and fly and glide
Entering the realm of light
Sunbeams vibrating at the edges of perception
A fuzzy twinkling as our eyes excite
Riding magic cloud carpets
Above ocean’s breast
Gazing down
The beauty becomes us
Gold light rays skate on undulating waves
Illuminating tide’s glimmering foam
A waltz of light and sound
Briny majesty
Luminous shafts dance and sway
In a lovers embrace
Across veridian waves
Passionately singing out
Becoming one
Our voices ~ melodies
Songs of our ancestors
Ballads from distant shores
Past and present
Reveal themselves in
Tender haunting notes
Arriving on mist’s fingertips
Hoovering close to Mother Ocean’s surface
We hear her heartbeat
Lap lap lap ... bubbles ... breath
Surface foam breaking
She appears in nature’s coat of shiny black
A regal humpback
A tranquil Goddess welcoming us
We ride upon this graceful giant
As she whispers her secrets
Feeling her slow movement
Through watery depths
Turning gently ~ moving up and down
We welcome her strength as
Turquoise tides caress us
Guided by celestial navigation .... we ride
Gazing up at the sparkling stars
We listen to the collective heartbeat of eternity
One breath
One exhale
Together
Joni, playing the jazz trumpet with your voice
Joni, who hated the music business
Joni, who was attracted to artists of all kinds
Like a moth to a roaring fire
Who in turn attracted and influenced like-minded minds
Around your flaming heart
Inviting others in, hesitantly, less it hurts too much.
Joni, you grew older than your age
Joni, eternally young, for you have the voice of sincerity
And naked truth on your side.
The artist supreme.
You lasted longer on this green earth than your companion Vincent,
Your mentor Miles and the locksmith Signore Picasso, who unlocked many doors for you.
Joni, forever young
Forever in hearts who yearn to accomplish what you accomplished.
Not fame and recognition, but entering the holy of holies,
Into your inner core, where you made love to yourself.
Home is where the heart is, they say
Joni, you showed some of us the way home, and we are eternally grateful.
Joni, you laboured to express, rather than impress,
With your smattering of artistic bursts
Like a bright sun behind a cloud, unable to contain its light.
you'd awakened my senses again
forming of calm nectar giving off a ray
of colorful hues pastel pines scents
my thoughts were vague withered beneath
me while my eyes danced a certain wilderness
I suppose tamed an yet wildly moved beyond
the hidden currents of you and I why I folded
above a chafe finding an yet you were there again
just like before I'd catered to the grand posture
of the unseen snowcapped mountains beaming
throughout sunlit branches covering the forestry
tapered about warm meaningful lessons gathered
just so as I began to drift quietly entering into
soft dimensional haste your shyness of a hesitant
need to pull out away from my foundation
while nestled so neatly a tethered fit roughly
bruised an yet healed instantly forming a newness
while i eagerly welcomed your home coming feast
Thanks to these storms to which I owe the power to wield my angst like a shining sword,
For they have taught me to shake off my fears and crush them at my weary feet,
I feel a whirlwind of air entering my anxious being, freeing me from the shadows of fear,
I owe them their icy stillness, with all its deafening glory that sings harsh truths,
Mocking my shattered hopes, the ruins of dreams once believed without hesitation,
I have learned that it is better to walk alone from now on, facing solitude,
As an embodiment of destruction falling upon everything in its path, tearing through falsehood,
I smile beneath the heavy, thundering clouds, under the friction that roars unceasing lightning,
Beyond any power and force, above any suffering, I find my strength,
From where I borrow the power to stand like steel, unbending, relentless,
Forgiving no step on this path full of shadow and light, of untamed desires,
Advancing like a rainbow whose end is unseen, yet it traverses the eternal storm.
Thus, as I stand here, in the inimitable beats of my heart that sing old stories,
I find that the storms have been my teachers and guides through the labyrinth of deep disillusionments,
For they have stripped me of illusions and clothed me with sharp and pure truths,
And from the ashes of my hopes, I have risen, stronger and purer in essence,
Learning to embrace my relentless yet sincere nature, without regrets,
Moving forward with steps of iron, facing the storm, embracing my unknown destiny.
patience abound as i
awaited your arrival again
the tangible task
a gathering of yellow panzie's
blooming at my feet
as night crawled under day
the beast lie in his nature
solace a sullen haste opened
the sky while the ground rumbled
i'd wandered far off my path again
seeking redemption a sigh of relief
salvation a simple martyr
sacrificed craving his will
entering ancient territories
mine eyes focused solely on his
as blood rushed from his side
his hands limped his feet
bounded together by steal
metal fragments wooden thorns
pierce his skull in a moments glance
bloody tears stained my blouse
the beacon hue soars brightly over me
trinity landed beside me whispering
peace be with you
I OPENED A DOOR IN THE UNIVERSE
ENTERING "TIME THROUGHOUT TIME".
I WAS "WITNESSING AN OBSERVATION"OF
"EONS OF RECOLLECTIONS" ,
"ESOTERIC ANCIENT WISDOM" AND
THE UNDERSTANDING OF TIME ITSELF.
ENDLESS MOMENTS OF PAST ,
PRESENT AND FUTURE,
OVERLAPPING ONE ANOTHER WITH
"MULTIPLE DIMENTIONS OF PURE
EXSISTANCE"
INTRICATELY WOVEN TOGETHER
WITH MULTIPLE FREQUENCIES
OF TIME ITSELF , ADORNED WITH
A FASCINATINGLY ATTRACTIVE
"SPECTRUM OF EXISTENCE".
MY THOUGHTS WERE ENDLESS .
BUT THE VISION WAS CLEAR.
THE PRE EXISTENCE OF LIFE IS TIME.
A FREQUENCY OF LIGHT PASSING
THROUGH THE FREQUENCY OF TIME
CREATING AND REFLECTING AN
IMAGE OF THE SPIRITUAL BEING
REPRESENTING A MOMENT OF
EXSISTANCE .
WE ARE REPRESENTATIVES OF A
LIMITED "CAPACITY OF TIME".
EXISTENTIAL BEINGS SHAPING
THE EXSISTANCE OF TIME .
GUIDING THE FREQUENCY OF LIGHT
THROUGH THIS UNIVERSE LEADING
THE WAY AND IN SEARCH OF THE
"SPIRITUAL MEANING OF
CONSCIOUSNESS".
MEANING , "BEINGS AND BEAST
ARE THE REASON FOR TIME".
AND "TIME IS THE REASON
FOR OUR EXSISTANCE."
Michael E. Harris
09262025
All you younger folk, take heed;
Here’s advice that you will need:
Every effort to keep fit –
Diet, gym class, all of it,
Will not help you as you age
From entering that “senior” stage.
Age alone is what explains
The bulk of many aches and pains.
Joints and muscles, all agree,
Arrive with Nature’s warranty,
Which, we never comprehended,
Cannot really be extended.
When we’re young we make mistakes,
Thinking all those pains and aches
Of older people we’ll avoid
Because precautions we’ve employed.
We view our elders with contempt;
From their distress we’ll be exempt.
This, then, is a wake-up shout.
There really isn’t any doubt
That even if you treat them right,
Your mind and body won’t be quite
The same as age controls the reins
And aches and pains are what remains.
Not for a second think I've left the soup kitchen
and quite frankly, I'm tired of all the B itching.
not from those real poets who know how to write
with pen in hand or fingers on a keyboard in flight.
I'm dealing with a couple of serious family issues.
A very sick granddaughter, and it's giving me the blues
My best friend, my sister's heart is out of whack
I'm just done with AI attacks and counterattack
I haven't abandoned the site, only entering contests
and hoping Artificial Intelligence will soon be laid to rest.
Probably not. I've more important things to do for a while,
so, as Duke Beaufort likes to say... live life with a smile.
Poetry as well as writing are both gifts and labors of love.
Jesus Christ has freely bestowed upon me his gifts of
Writing and poetry. I am primarily an inspirational/
Christian poetic writer. It is plain to see poetic/
Creative writing are my passions. And one of my major
Reasons for existing on planet earth.
Using poetry/writing as part of a time capsule. In order
For any future unborn generations. May discover and
Perceive their very own literary legacy. By desiring to
Make an impact and a difference in the literary circles.
Shaping and molding younger writers, and my peers
To uncover their own goals, hopes, dreams and planes.
Writing for the both the enrichment and amusement.
Are working together. Simultaneously in prefect harmony
And Creativity. Working together hands in. "Hands across
The water and hands across the sky,"The Beatles.
Often used exclusively for spreading the good news.
And informative news of the life Saving gospel.
Courtesy of my beloved Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ is my bright and shining candlestick. He
Is my brightly shining candle light. Illuminating the
Darkness in a sin stained world!
Turning on the Lamp of his lighthouse! Guiding ships
Into their Harbor of perfect security and safety. Entering
Their Home port of operation. And welcoming their
Loved ones safely back home once more again!
He is the Sanctuary of my life. He is my BFF, my very best
Friend. In the entire world I exist in! He is my guiding
Candlelight by morning, noon and night. When things
In my life go upside down. Jesus Christ sets things
Upside right!
He has bestowed his free gift upon other Christian
Poets and writer. Who know about writing and the
Gospel of Jesus Christ. Than will be revealed to me
In my entire earthly life.
Who far surpass me in Their very own ability and
Creativity. I do not compare myself To anybody else.
For I can Never measure to their professional quality
Standards!
But Christians, everywhere through out, the world.
Are spreading the good news of the gospel of
Jesus Christ! "Turn on the light house. Turn on
The lighthouse." Leaving it on morning, noon,
And night. Who love their beloved Jesus Christ!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
July 12, 2020