Long Ether Poems
Long Ether Poems. Below are the most popular long Ether by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ether poems by poem length and keyword.
In my sleep I had a strange dream
Around my shoulders two wings sprouted
They whispered to me in gentle tones
“Now that you have wings,
Don’t you wish to shed your earthly existence
Like the sloughed skin of a snake
To rise high and higher
To sail beyond sunset, to fly far, far away
To soar into the seamless skies
To levitate in ether, to feel weightless
To float amid twinkling stars
To collide against constellations
To tour round as on a magic carpet
And dive into the oceanic depths of space
If you wish so, soar like a bird....
Now that you have wings,
Nothing will impede you on your way
You can ascend higher and still higher
Dancing like the flame of candle light
No shutters, no pad lock, no keys
You can mutate and shape- shift and be a falcon
There amid the galaxies, you can build a palace
Floating on clouds, you can dream in peace
With none to intrude or interrupt your calm
No laws of gravity shall pull you down
You may stay awhile in that magic kingdom
And experience how blissful it is to have a pair of wings”
I heard the wings giving a final warning
“Now that you have wings,
Spread them wide and own the sky
If you keep them folded, you’ll stay where you are
Never shall you rise even an inch higher”
~Placed First~
For Strand's (1073) Poetry Contest
12. Jan. 2022
Whispering Wings Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Chantelle Anne Cooke
Mars is showing off, Jupiter complained to Zeus.
Don’t share all your woes, Zeus said into his juice.
Jupiter is making fun of the rest of us, Mars pouted back.
Zeus rolled his eyes and said “make fun of him without tact!
That never works! Whined Mars, who is angry most of the time.
Neptune and Saturn were tired of hearing this planet whine.
Can’t you make him stop? Near-sighted Neptune to Saturn said.
How would I do it? Drop him out of the ether onto his head?
They chuckled at this and told Earth their little joke.
Earth rolled her eyes; she was sick of having nine brother folk.
I doubt that Dad cared, she said. Venus ran over to hear.
Mars was now as angry as ever, and plotting danger and fear.
Unbound from the righteous roots
of the sanctified dormant soul,
the anchorage of wayward mind is unsteady.
In the dislodging thrust
of the upwelling desires,
the untamed instincts
rush feral on the sordid trail.
The unbridled mind turns into a predator,
breaks away from the virtuosity of sanity,
chases the longing on the thought track,
made by the urge of brutal craving.
The basic instinct morphs into base entity.
Deflected from the correct course,
shown by the moral compass,
time plunges the errant existence
into the vortex of vicious storm,
breaks it down into discarded debris,
while the tune of acuity echoes unheard
in the ethical ether.
Beneath the surface of mortal perception,
heart builds the dreams it desires to foster.
Allured by the self-sought aspirations
into the darkness of unawareness,
it mutely suffers wandering
in the wilderness of wanton life.
Under the convolute layers
of the clouded mind,
at the inner depth of turmoil
the sensual heart waits to dream.
At the dawn of self-acquired consciousness,
flooded by the light of eternal truth,
it builds the innate desire
for the touch of placid perception.
Travelling on the pathway of devout life,
an inward emancipation journey,
to the sacred sanctum of realization,
the ultimate destination of liberation,
where the awakened awareness perceives
the sacrosanct meaning of existence,
in the voice of conscience.
In the endless ether wander aimlessly,
Words and images dying gracelessly
They were creations fondly reared
But on the net they disappeared.
Heartbroken and bereft,I do recall
That one did try Raphael to enthrall
In my feebly frail effort to outline
What poetry and painting do define.
The other did lightly glance at the naming of the parts,
More venereal ,rather than the military arts.
Lovingly it was my wish them to draw
To fill my reader with a sense of awe.
My one fond hope is they can truly be found
To complete the corpus of my writing round.
Should you know where they might be
What great joy that would bring to me.
As the moonlight reflected on a lake
Whomever you choose to be or make,
Your mind and heart can have a choice,
Add my consent if fair according voice.
Ether happiness is just a state of mind
Like joyful clouds gather or go with wind,
All states of mind, may also reproduce
Themselves in physical forms or use.
Unknown station, future may belong to hoards
Ready to gather up and sharpen the swords.
Fear may becomes panic. Its rhymes get witness
As exhausted love may become possessiveness.
If we could only have a little a bit more time,
More money, more love, maybe a better rhyme
More known or unknown thing he did not have,
We’d be truly happy. All these make us behave.
Any sequoia will watch us from higher places.
Each repressed emotion in childhood lets traces.
Cycle of life: tangled branches of every wood.
Angry may bring kind of rebel like Robin-hood
Grief may become chronic deep depression,
Envy may become jealousy, even obsession.
Sorrow looks like a robin, but what else may be?
Or sing another song, or choose another tree!
Sweet and soothing, the night is settling by now.
Shadows loaded with sleep, dull, soft and slow,
Clouds over the earth like water ready to give up.
Playing : softly, slowly, joy of love grow up:
Feelings, like the steam carried over a precipice,
So, wishful thinking carried over prejudice,
Sneaking through the trees, moon runs to here.
White lights turn off, descend and may disappear.
The overtaken, discolored, pale moon`s childhood
A hidden rhythm presides and resolves this mood
Of tonalities loaded with the hope that does not fear
New dreams crawl to the heights to fresh air.
You need a measure, if want too much without be able
Rebound for men like the expensive wine on the table.
Serotonin beyond each ill that would corruption bring,
Over dose brings neuroses, or subjective suffering.
If the feelings` denominator can flood the cognitive,
Try keep smiling: in good transfer as dough can live
Resilient like the seasons`colors and scent of the leaves
Enjoy the joy of the others under the unknown eaves.
Under the veil of night, where the flames dance like ancient spirits,
And the clouds float like ethereal dreams across the mysterious sky,
Gaze deep into the fire, enveloped by secret shadows,
And when the inner voices begin to whisper, surrender to them, without fear.
Like a celestial flame burning under the eye of the magical moon,
Your desires stir, and your soul heeds the ancestral call,
Do not ask if these please the gods hidden among the stars,
For in that hesitation, your soul will collapse like a crumbled temple.
In the clarity of the sacred fire, your profound essence reflects,
The inner voices, like whispers from another realm, reveal the truth,
Do not fall prey to imposing doubts, do not retreat before the shadows,
For only through this surrender can you rediscover your divine self.
The clouds drift, ever-changing, like the dreaming spirits of the heavens,
In them, unknown lands and forgotten dreams take shape,
But the flames of your soul, stable and mystical, offer answers,
The inner voices are guides through the labyrinth of your cosmic truth.
Do not ask if you are pleasing to the heavens or the gods beyond,
Just listen to the pure call of your heart ignited by desire,
For in this listening, you rediscover the archetypal truth,
And free yourself from inner ruins, reborn like a phoenix from ash.
In this mystical dance of fire and clouds, your destiny unfolds,
Surrender to the inner voices is a journey through sacred realms,
Each whisper, a falling star bearing the light of knowledge,
And melancholy becomes the gateway to your ancient wisdom.
Under the enigmatic light of the moon, in the deep silence of the ether,
Do not fear your inner light, but embrace it as a divine relic,
For only in the sacred listening of your soul,
Can you transcend the world's ruins and rediscover the mystical essence of your being.
(Original poem)
Frozen ripples of moments
When in the hued horizon the crimson sun rose
I saw you flash across my dew latticed meadow
Chromatic glare of dawn flushed your satin face
On flow of time the ripples of my moments froze.
The glint of your seraphic eyes glistened on me
Filled the void of my yearning with your grace
Before like a spritely butterfly you could fly away
Leaving me in the debris of crumbled ecstasy.
On the wings of desire my heart soared up high
Floated across the silver-lined clouds of dismay
Dreams behind portals of rainbow I won’t close
Until my yearning could fly in your sapphire sky.
Whenever I’d plunge in the deep abyss of blue
The fleeting glow of your face I’d seek to view
Through the grey haze of despair it’d take me to
The sunburst horizon where I’d surely find you.
Posted : February 23, 2020
(Updated poem)
The sunburst dawn’s flaming film
flushed your flamboyant face,
as the horizon turned to golden fresco
in my dew crowned meadow,
you flittered like a butterfly,
my yearning poised on frozen time.
Before you could fly away far
with the fragrance of my fervor,
leaving me in the debris of ecstasy,
I suffused my soul sensitive
with the ether of your enticing lure,
flowing from the fringe of your eyes.
My heart turned into swirling cloud,
in gale of desire drifted in depression
through the arch of transient rainbow
where the dreams melted with colors,
for lasting longing to fly in your lilting sky
I will wait entranced till the end of time.
That’s when the storm of agony will abate,
and I will find you beguiled once again
across the horizon enclosed in eternal bliss,
swathing sensual sheen on your essence,
I will see it morph into a mesmeric sea,
in its enthralling depth of serenity I will sink.
October 12, 2021
Contest : Something Old Something New
Sponsor : John Lawless
Before the dawn of breath or bone, you were atoms adrift in the cosmic sea—carbon spun from dying stars, iron forged in ancient suns.
You were scattered light, forgotten dust, waiting in silence for chemistry’s kiss, until the Earth took you in her arms, and whispered: become.
Life—an emergent melody, born of order from the chaos’ hum, a fleeting pattern in entropy’s tide, glimmering bright, then fading again.
At death, the pattern breaks apart, not an end, but a transformation—the body yields to the soil, the sky, the atoms return to their cosmic roam.
Some dream of heavens and fiery hells, sculpted from hope, or fear of void—for the unknown stirs unease in minds that crave a story with meaning’s chord.
But nature’s truth is not cruel or kind, it simply is—a wondrous weave, where every death seeds new beginnings, and every star births future hearts.
So fear not the dark—it is the same vast cradle that once made you whole; you are the universe, and shall return home.
To that ether mist before we were born.
In the resplendent dawn of one seraphic spring
I saw a delicately weaved bird’s nest nestled
on the baroque bough of the magnolia tree
that was in full bloom in the backyard lawn.
Since then I saw every morning a cheery Robin
fly low in zest through the crispy fragrant air
with the wings spread to span the cerulean sky,
and descend to its nest as my songbird.
The bird of bright daylight flew with sunburst zest,
kept the secrets of avian delight in scarlet breast.
When thrushes were silent it sang to the first sunray,
the winds carried away the lyric of the dawn.
Little Robin swung on tree boughs in the surge of squall,
fluttered with rhythmic melody when rainbow appeared.
I heard the bird perched high outside my window
sing for me the sunrise song of the new day.
The charming bird dancing on the bowed branches
gave me enchanting company in the lonesome hours,
singing delightful songs that sailed in the gloomy air,
suffused my time with the ether of sensuous joy.
As I enjoyed the friendly closeness of the chirping robin
my pet cat sat by my side at the edge of the portico.
Perhaps with a built-up feeling of envy she watched me
engrossed with the little bird, unmindful of her presence.
One sunny morning I placed some corn on the porch,
found the bird fly in, hopped around to eat the grains.
My cat appeared from nowhere, pounced like lightning,
caught the robin in her sharp claws and ran away.
Sitting now by the window I miss my robin on the tree,
but in my ear still resonates the twitter of the bruised bird.
A whisper in the night
Even though
The night is mine
Like the African doe
Who hides behind
The bushes in the nighttime
In the Kigali
Every breath you take
Every step you make
Even if the moon longer rises
Or the sun goes out
I will be at your side
If you lose hope
With nothing left to cope
I will be at your side
If your life seems empty whilst others seem to have plenty
Pray to me to appear
To wipe away those tears
For I will be at your side
If you need space and time
To clear your mind
If you need to feel pain
To be reborn again
I will be at your side
If Fate brings you SAD gifts
Like seasonal affective disorders
From all known states
Or borders
Or people filled with and preaching hate
Call to me
And I will be at your side
For your life is but a brief whisper
A quick ride in my Ether
A tiny dot on my ethereal map
A made-up wheel
Created by the Babylonians and Egyptians
That can steal all you feel
So know
Your life was never made to live alone
Driven by a ticking wheel
Call to me
To atone
And I will be at your side
In a flash
Before your world turns to ash
So my Keeper of the Sacred Keys
Peter
Can welcome you home
To a wonderful land
Where you're never alone
But with all your family and beloved friends
And free spirits as all animals roam
Remember to call to me
So I can be at your side
I'm sure you know my name
For I'm also a child
A son of a God sent to guide
All things in his Ether
Which collide
Even the sinful
Who have lied
But more so
For those who souls
Who have cried
Call to me
For dear reader
Faith always provides
(C)
Copyright John Duffy