Long Erased Poems
Long Erased Poems. Below are the most popular long Erased by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Erased poems by poem length and keyword.
I hope you know,
realize, understand
I never meant for you to go
as the deams fade from my hand.
Some distant point in time erased
everything I planned along the line
still, it was the journey of a lifetime placed
yours forever joined to mine.
Wasn't it a ride fantastic?
weren't the escapades unmatched?
didn't we trip that light elastic?
The dreams seem long ago forgotten
slipprd passed the routines of the days unbared
and the years lived slip away like candied cotton
with every bond in the dream of us we shared.
I have dreams that still remain
and gladly have every one be intensely felt
as I would try to do them over again
with you, you alone and no one else.
Silent One
Silent One rises with the solar system dawn
Drawn by solace in the quiet morning
Riding on the gravitational waves
Through numbered stars through dark matter there
Watching zeros mix, blend into the cosmic mist
Numerically correct seen whole among black holes disguises
Into tomorrow out there in themselves as distances
On the lip, inclining on their axis, universes eclipse then passes
Back at home, outside on roaming fields
Look up with them to take the solar system in
As it folds within a timeless bending scheme
Vast sky-capes emanating mostly quiet
Silent One remains intent, contemplative, waving
Stays out there for hours on a lounge chair tending day
Sipping tea beneath the harmless trees in shade
Sits serenely by, out of sight, time slipping by
Golden sun light streaming over day
Seen are the red and yellow flowers
Green grass peeks through abundant colors glow
Moved in a gentle wind to mesmerizing horizons end
Out there between the wilderness serenity and madness
Night comes on, explores the greater cause
Stars rain down, escapes the cosmic grip
Secrets kept, only to forget them when looking to the void
Lines traced in history, erased, once enjoyed
Silent One stands alone between a zero to the left
Two at the right numerically correct
True in place, quantified, residing
One and History rewind themselves, recite the story
Not to worry. There is always more to tell
A time fast forward quickens to the One original
One will always be the Silent One and not another
Fate will lead us off the silent planet
Earth is temporarily our home
Inevitably fading away into the silence black
Like Silent One, just that
Let us just for argument sake a moment contemplate
or imagine ?
Something is amiss with the world ?
Not that it is flat still round more like
missing ?
Maybe flight MH-50 accidentally came across ?
Like it not appearing on radar or has been wipped from off the global map erased and hidden to the enquiring eye ?
Say 2 missing continent or island we have been lead to believe or view as nothing more than uncharted ocean ?
1 which was rather in fact a parallel universe or testing ground for social experimentation ?
Researching the consequences and effects of such
thing's as political upheaval , viral outbreaks and extraterrestrial visitation would have on
the human psychy in the end of worst case scenario armageddon or the apocalypse was ever to occur ?
And the 2nd an island paradise where they can start again
and still remain and stay in power, protect and keep their wealth in tact ?
Beside the vaccine and cure to every known human
disease and alternative green abundant fuel source
and neither a jail nor policeman on it ?
A paradise heaven on earth where no 1
gets sick and everyone's gets along and
thinks alike
That is still not enough and before long
begins a race between former acolytes
To see who can make it back 1st
to plant his flag in the smoldering
ashes
In order so he in fact can profess to
take his rightful true place as the new
Messiah the 2nd coming of Christ
In the grand scheme of natural things that wane
time seems ever-elusive and eternally unchained
only mankind dares to give it a name;
it eeks through history and space
marking everything in place
never moving backward in its race;
only forward in slow and hectic rhapsodies,
undoing progress with its tragedies
as human ignorance embraces all its parodies;
qualifying distinctive moments of a human race
trying foolishly to control the seconds easily erased
millennia captured in human records of time and space;
time is only measurable and blind
by the random genius of the human mind
in its self-inspired sagacity destined to find
only God creates the persistence on this rock
seconds, hours, years, generations on the clock
ever on the run, in a lifetime fared
time is nowhere yet everywhere
neither here nor there,
a mere second spent in evening prayer.
for Chantelle Cook's Time Poetry
5/27/21
At the footbridge of time...
It lies just ahead, the path worn and clear.
How many others found their way walking here?
Oak and maple to the left, leaf covered river stones on the right
and in between, the well traveled path clear in sight.
So many times in the past, I parked the car
hiked up the cliff then found the path aligned with the north star.
Getting a foothold here and another there
your hand in mine as we stepped into the clear.
Straight away we walked together, crushed the leaves where we stood
with a crunch now and then of dry, broken potential firewood.
The hill stretched up and at the top we could finally see
pathways to the footbridge just below the trees.
We hardly spoke but silently we knew
choosing to take the steps forward without a clue
This path and the footbridge standing solidly in place
helps looking back with not one step to be erased.
Like the wood used to build it lay the stepping stones
to another place across the wide expanse still unknown.
Yes, been there once, five times maybe more
yet each new venture opens brand new doors.
This time, I walk alone with memory in heart
let me begin again with another start.
Step quick, step slow
contemplating when to go
across the footbridge of the past
to the present future is all i ask.
Winds were among first to notice
Fragrant air blowing fresh breeze
Stemming from your pristine vicinity
Extolling prospects of your visit,
Announced by the birds in flight
Message circulated far and wide
Into the emerging scenic twilight
Pushing far away the opaque skies,
Cotton clouds then adorned charm
Scattered in ways of scenic art form
In orange hues peeking from blue
Amid aerial vistas painted for you,
Sprinkling rays on mosaic colors
Layers of fabric spun florid display
Anxious for you to take your step
Into this arena of majestic stage,
But all that passion suddenly erased
Prompting egress of darker motifs
When sun plunged below horizon,
Dismayed that you never showed up.
April 12, 2018
Placed first in contest 515 by Brian Strand
The pain you feel when dementia hits,
Is unlike any other pain I believe that exists,
Whether slow or at a fast pace they forget more and more,
While you're fighting to keep their memories alive but inside you mourn,
Holding onto the love while pretending not to show pain,
The alcohol erasing the memory of the entire relationship you've gained,
Until your seeing a shell of a man you once knew,
Forgetting all the love they shared with you,
The closeness you once had is completely gone,
And every fiber of your being wants to hold on,
And the pain becomes so deep you can't even reach,
And all you can do is pray for him to remember anything,
It's like talking to someone you're meeting for the first time,
All the years of love you shared are erased in their mind,
And it is if they have died right in front of your face,
And you beg God to heal him every single day,
And then you work in the same atmosphere day in and day out,
Searching for remedies, for anything that might help,
And when you see a ray of light in that darkened room,
It is the fuel that tells you not to give up so soon,
So you keep going, because you don't give up on the love,
Until you realize that this isn't enough,
Until you must sacrifice in ways you never thought you could,
Because if it was your choice you never would,
And then your told you have to heal and start over again,
And you never thought you would be single or alone in the end,
Gaza—
I was there.
I have seen the blood.
I have seen suffering
beyond words.
Israel—
the world will not forget.
Not now.
Not in time.
I saw pain
in the eyes of the people.
I saw innocence
caught in war.
I saw men
broken and killed.
I saw women
crying in fear.
I saw children
starving in silence.
Gaza today
is a place of sorrow.
A place
where humanity is questioned.
When all this suffering unfolds—
where is the world?
Israel—
what wrong
have the people of Gaza done?
How many must fall
before it ends?
America.
Europe.
You speak of human rights.
Yet your actions
tell another story.
You send support.
You send weapons.
And the suffering continues.
Blood in Gaza
falls day and night.
If Israel has a right to exist—
what of Gaza?
What of its people?
No power
is above judgment.
No nation
escapes history.
Israel—
what is not just
will never bring peace.
The blood in the Middle East
will not be forgotten.
It will return
as a question of justice.
And Gaza—
will not be erased.
TEH SKETCHES ACROSS THE NIGHT
WERE
STARS GLARE UPON THE FOLKS
THEY DANCE AND MAKE WORDS TO
THOSE THEY WISH WERE NEARER
THEY SING SONGS OF CONCERTED
WORDINGS
SONGS REHERSTED DAYS AND DAYS
THERE MUSIC IS LIVE BY
HORNS AND STRINGED INSTRUMENTS
DRUMS ARE PERCUSSIONED
ALONG WITH ELECTRIC BASS
THE AUDENCIES SMILE
AND CLAPPED TO THEY SINGERS
OF THE NIGHT
THAT TOMMORROW
SOME OF THESE MOMENTS
WILL BE ERASED
does the evil God Recuerda, have thee not to recall the words, and the steps that had been choreographed. Does he curse the evening to cause us not to be perfect: yet must we pray him away. Like gullible people who give meat offerings to the dirt god of the woods. Do we nail meat to the doors and pray ye to leave us that we might reach perfection. Might the woodwinds sing him to sleep, so that the drums startle him and he shall run scared like unprotected sheep running from the wolves. The needs of those who wish perfection, and the will of those who demand perfection, might these prayer have us as close to perfection as we need be.
'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the land
Billionaires gathered to give Trump a hand
They were there to see what programs to cut
Leaving the poor in a much deeper rut
The Rocket man Musk with funds to divert
now had the title of efficiency expert
Senior citizens worried that they'd be erased
While Musk took their SS checks to outer space
The would be Secretary of Defense loves his booze
In case we were attacked
he'd be asleep at the switch, taking a snooze
Dreaming of vodka and another six pack
The Department of health would get rid of vaccines
and childhood diseases would pick the kids clean
The man set to be in charge is a former heroine addict
Seems he'd like needles, but he sets the script