Long Ephemera Poems
Long Ephemera Poems. Below are the most popular long Ephemera by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ephemera poems by poem length and keyword.
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{There will be ‘nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.’ UN climate report warns of ‘code red for humanity.’}
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You, unfeeling creatures
Who call yourselves human,
You, fleeting bubbles of reason,
Accidental parasites of time,
You, filthy microbes of cancer,
Ephemera of invincible eternity,
You, who try to fill your vanity
With abominable crimes,
You, insensible butchers of animals,
Notorious destroyers of pastures,
You, contaminators of oceans,
Deleterious polluters of rivers,
You, menacing beings of harmony,
Transgressors of universal laws,
You,
Who deliberately have put me through
The tormenting agony of dying
By
Strewing your treacherous dark web of
Your unworthy ambitions, all over my face,
Shadowing my generous fertility and
Rendering me sterile,
Behold,
For the time has come for you
To feel my wrath and my fury
Boiling lava over you
To flow every day,
Kneel,
Your tiny mortal beings
In front of the immortal cosmos,
For the shiny heavy sword of
Universal justice,
Punisher of transgressions, guardians of
The eternal laws,
Over your thoughtless heads to fall
With vengeance and rage
Decapitating the most of you and
Those who would survive
Shall feel the torturing pain in
Their hearts
For
Uncountable years!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
11 August 2021
-
* This poem I wrote in 1985 in Montreal, Canada when, as a co-founder of a peace movement, was making efforts to raise conscientiousness to save mother earth. It was posted here on the 28th of November 2012 with the title:"The Rage of Mother Earth". Now, with minor editing, is re-posted with its original title of 1985: "THE MOURNING OF MOTHER EARTH." THIS IS A STERN WARNING TO ALL OF US WHO DESTROY HER: REMEMBER NOT MUCH TIME IS LEFT TO SAVE OUR PLANET AND OURSELVES!
-
**'Worst is yet to come': Disastrous future ahead for millions worldwide due to climate change, report warns. So it came to pass. What I dreaded back in 1985 is here, according to the UN report. The question is this: What can we do? What should we do? What we would do? LET US DO THE BEST WE CAN TO SAVE OUR EARTHLY HOME!
***I wanted to include this poem in the PoertySoup upcoming Anthology but poetrySoup says it has too many lines!
I know that I won’t forget you
Did you ever believe that I would?
What we had together was special:
Magical, and exceptionally good.
Even though it’s now over
And we have parted amicably
There is a little piece of you
That will always be a part of me.
You inhabited my life for so many years
Gave me more than I probably deserved
Your love and loyalty and devotion
Was complete and unreserved
And I, in turn, gave you everything
To make you comfortable and happy
We got along pretty well, most of the time
I loved you and you loved me.
But something changed a while back now
There was something gone amiss
I could tell by the way you greeted me
I knew by brevity of your kiss
Oh, you tried hard to hide it from me
And I wanted to believe, and I really tried
But your lies and secretiveness
You could never successfully hide.
I should have confronted you maybe,
Forced the issue, brought it to light
But what would have been the point of that:
Who would have gained from such a fight?
So I swallowed my anguish and pain
And waited for the hammer to fall
Although it took longer than I expected it to
I lived in hope it would not fall at all.
You were kind and gentle with me
I cried and you cried too
It broke my fractured heart to agree that
You had to do what you needed to do
Even then I hoped against rational hope
You’d change your mind and you would stay
However, you just kissed me one last time
Then wiped your eyes and walked away.
So I sit here with my memories
The photographs, mementos and things
All the ephemera of our relationship
Such sadness some this stuff brings
Yet remembrances of happier times, too
Can still raise an affectionate smile
So I’ll sit here looking and remembering
At least for a little while
I know I won’t forget you
It’s not something I’m willing to do
However hurt and lonely I am
I’ll always hold a candle for you
I will love you forever, no matter what
You are in my heart forever to stay
And maybe, if things don’t work out for you,
You’ll return home to me one day…
You, unfeeling creatures
Who call yourselves human,
You, fleeting bubbles of reason,
Accidental parasites of time,
You, filthy microbes of cancer,
Ephemera of invincible eternity,
You, who try to fill your vanity
With abominable crimes,
You, insensible butchers of animals,
Notorious destroyers of pastures,
You, contaminators of oceans,
Deleterious polluters of rivers,
You, menacing beings of harmony,
Transgressors of universal laws,
You,
Who deliberately have put me through
The tormenting agony of dying
By
Strewing your treacherous dark web of
Your unworthy ambitions, all over my face,
Shadowing my generous fertility and
Rendering me sterile,
Behold,
For the time has come for you
To feel my wrath and my fury
Boiling lava over you
To flow every day,
Kneel,
Your tiny mortal beings
In front of the immortal cosmos,
For the shiny heavy sword of
Universal justice,
Punisher of transgressions, guardians of
The eternal laws,
Over your thoughtless heads to fall
With vengeance and rage
Decapitating the most of you and
Those who would survive
Shall feel the torturing pain in
Their hearts
For
Uncountable years!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
20 March 2020
* This poem I wrote in 1985 in Montreal, Canada when, as a co-founder of a peace movement, was making efforts to raise conscientiousness for to save mother earth. It was posted here on the 28th of November 2012 with the title:"The Rage of Mother Earth". Now, with minor editing, is re-posted with its original title of 1985: "THE MOURNING OF MOTHER EARTH." THIS IS A STERN WARNING TO ALL OF US WHO DESTROY HER: REMEMBER NOT MUCH TIME IS LEFT TO SAVE OUR PLANET AND OURSELVES!
There was a sickly tree
In a barren clearing
In a burning country
On a mourning day.
A wild crown of branches
Haloed by concentric rings;
A rising wave of spires and spindles lashing at the air;
Prismatic infernos leaping forth from in-betweens.
The void is silent.
No voices in clouds.
And the wind is a word that trailed.
Conflagràre.
Conflagràre.
Observe that you are not yourself.
Grey fire licks the skin like lichen.
Observe that this pain is not your own.
Topple to the planar salts
Content in this purifying wisdom:
These eyes that now see;
The eyes that beheld prophecy,
They were never the eyes of me.
Go inward now, forget your breath-
My Toreador, my Hortator.
Close quietly, freed from images-
My Paranoiac, my Metanoiac.
Evaporate beneath the total might of; the depthless, unceasing majesty of
The Absolute World.
Become dust in dust sifting by in the violently churning tempests of
The Grand Cacophony.
What looms is eternity,
What spans is time,
What one string has led
Is the timeless dead,
What an opal holds;
What the water enfolds
Is the history of reality untold.
May a unit of time intone time's fate?
May a sessile whisper collapse into an ascending, crescendoing boom?
May a retrocessive second retool the rules of the seconds' worlds by drawing deep from a pool of unspooling memory?
The leaning tree still stands
On a drifting sea of sands
Casting shadows by night
That stretch away to light.
Written: August 14, 2025, for Contest Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
*******
I writhed in the womb of a necrotic hush,
a stygian silence where barghests lurk—
My slack-jawed soul, sodden with oblivion lull,
clanged against the obelisk of despair.
The wound, a molten mouth of aurora,
sizzled with sacred suction—
a fipple of fire, ineffable and fecund,
where pestilence pirouetted with puissance.
I danced—yes, I danced—
in the desiccation of my demise,
a gavotte of soulfulness,
My blood is a rubicund aria of rapture.
Alabaster bones bore the torque of truth,
Each fracture is a triptych of ephemera and flame.
I was a poltergeist of my former self,
grappling through the noosphere multivocal maze.
The stench of bygone hexes clung to lava rock,
But I, stalwart and sinewed with mettle.
careened past the clamor of puerile pabulum,
past the gossamer glamor of grief.
I was broken—yes—
but bold enough to resuscitate,
to regale the necromancy of my rebirth,
to supplant sorrow with the sacred sizzle of self.
Now I stand, an empyrean echo,
a veridical vestige of velvet versatility—
my heart, a burnished niche of noble hope,
My spirit resembles a smooth, celestial sunset.
Let the world scrutinize my scars,
They are not grotesque—they are garrulous.
They speak in tongues of alchemy and amaranthine ache,
a quixotic quiddity, a quintessence of comeback.
In the labyrinth of time, where shadows spread their dark wings,
My thoughts float like ripples on a silent river, gliding among lost dreams,
The air breathes through the mist like ghosts, dancing on the edge of the abyss,
Humanity, sleepwalking towards oblivion, between skyscrapers and shattered illusions.
With eyes closed, hearts wrapped in logos and neon ephemera,
You sing melancholy melodies on chords of clay, runes that cry out at sunset,
The skies bend under the weight of irony, under the devastating healing of silence,
Born in fields of gold, bound to the earth that breathes forgetfulness.
Rivers of hope pour into an ocean of illusions,
I feel the years pass, like pages of paper, yellowed and torn by the cold wind of consumption,
A macabre dance under the light of advertisements, choirs of digital sirens,
The sleep of reason gives birth to dreams of iron and concrete, while the heart weeps burdened.
Among the ruins of dreams, among the great cathedrals of greed,
Unfinished paintings remain, skeletons of ideas that were never reborn,
I, you, we - prisoners in our own labyrinths of illusions,
Wondering if awakening will ever find us.
Your eyes, corners of unexplored universes,
I breathe the whispers of time, buried under the dust of reality,
A world dressed in brand cloaks, in cemeteries of dreams,
And I wonder, always wonder, when we will begin to dream again – together.
The Jackal's line of demarcation ye souls' furlough for interim...
Today, cockcrows perturb in a gala thrice for thee quiescent stay,
God's Park of Ephemera, sashays the daggled the minder harks,
a chest not in to rest, of dais edicts, cudgels so contagious;
haughty wheels peddle rashly between two havocked hearts,
foisting wintry fobs of progeny pleating to let pigeons exeunt,
if bedlam trotting by pothers ye, the cob, yet calmly sings,
"Fare-thee-well, Oh snowflake in dwindle, hallow me next spring,
via crepuscules, cleaved like vacant aulas crescendo conveyance,
wholly abutting city lights, this chimney calling cannot sight!"
Jolly pedestrians twinge at our capitol! Touring a mindful chance,
Ample of verve, knowing mortuary amblers must get their fight!
"Fountains, thawing ye? Janitor, what does the blind really see?"
tryst squelch time, squirm squander squalors n' ante antiquated feet,
Jocund or beh£s belief! Ye! Behind bellicose belletrists by beggars!
When baubles full-fledged, hast consummated thee to hobnob no more,
jongleur sloshed anchors on mimes bare laid laic stoolie, loupe aims,
Headmost, request lasting breaths above broadcasting fortune n' fame,
Then fated fires the Sniper jostles from home to goad n' prod,
Ye kindred stanchion and I, skimmed, the sunset even with me...
As a lamb going for rather cutting,
She was dragging him with a chain,
Bitter than a gall and deeply suffering,
His soul was lying in a groove pain.
He - being patient in silence and deeply sad,
She - with a yoke, comprising his empty soul,
He – accusing the pain in his body and head,
She – discovering that for him it was only a role.
But he didn` t want, his prejudice could not agree
To see the failure of his house as a loneliness` tree
And he couldn`t become again that young man free,
Though, with money, he couldn`t buy his soul serenity,
The dreams and the life from his heart eternity,
And… he couldn`t save… his freedom dignity.
As a lamb going for rather cutting than living,
He - day by day was feeling as a loneliness` being,
But his partner was not observing his heart empting,
Being blinded by possessions, fortune achieving,
And, selfish, with obstinacy, his life was dragging,
And finally…. he couldn`t live anymore without dreaming.
As some lambs going for only cutting,
So many ephemera couples live together,
A painful life and their feelings` fighting,
Though fate didn`t ask to be as one for ever.
But they have money, fortune and power – increasingly,
Lies, compromises, pains and sorrows - eternally.
Form:
Ephemera
In an island berthed on the sea
Where the sun shines all round seasons
And rain does linger as a plea,
Rainbows arch the sky quite often
And present relish to the eye
In the firmament not so high.
With red, orange and yellow hues
Lined side by side with green and blue,
Indigo fringed with violet
All reflecting in rivulets,
Diffuse matchless joy to the heart,
A beauty that does stand apart.
How I would wish to grab colours
Of the rainbow just with my palm!
But deep in my mind I ponder
That its evasive, flitting charms
Are but delusive chimera
That vanish like ephemera.
The Rage of Mother Earth
(Warning those who destroy HER)
You, unfeeling creatures
Who call yourselves Human,
You, fleeting bubbles of reason,
Accidental parasites of time,
You, filthy microbes of cancer,
Ephemera of invincible eternity,
You, who try to fill your vanity
With abominable crimes,
You, insensible butchers of animals,
Notorious destroyers of pastures,
You, contaminators of oceans,
Deleterious polluters of rivers,
You, menacing beings of harmony,
Transgressors of universal laws,
You, who deliberately have put Me
Through the tormenting agony of dying
By strewing your treacherous dark web
Of your unworthy ambitions, all over my face
Shadowing my generous fertility
And rendering me sterile,
Behold!
For the time will come for you
To feel my wrath and my fury
Boiling lava over you
To flow every day,
Kneel, you tiny mortal beings
In front of the immortal cosmos
For the shiny heavy sword
Of universal justice,
Punisher of transgressions
Guardian of the eternal laws,
Over your thoughtless heads to fall
With vengeance and rage
Decapitating the most of you
And those who would survive
Will feel the torturing pain
In their hearts
For thousands of years!
© Demetrios Trifiatis