Long Exhaustive Poems

Long Exhaustive Poems. Below are the most popular long Exhaustive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exhaustive poems by poem length and keyword.


The Hero At the Gates, Part Iv

IV.
The tavern-keeper approached him swiftly
and handed him an identical mask,
said,”We wouldn’t let the bastards kill you,
but to escape we will have to act fast.

“We have horse waiting outside the wall,
and take this letter, it will help you out.
It introduces you to my brother,
the Bandit Chief known as ‘Iron’ Dunlow.

“He’s a thief only to king’s and their queens,
and in truth is a quite honorable man,
it’s only the corrupt who call him fiend,
and he always could us another hand.

“You’ll find his haunt in the far northern hills,
just go quick and don’t stop until you’re there,
no hero like you should die such a death,
if the king won’t, then the people will care.”

They hustled down to the looming front gate,
still manned by his friends in the garrison,
who conveniently turned their backs to all this,
later claiming that they had seen no one.

The horses sat nearby, both packed to move,
and up on one a slight figure did sit,
it was the bar wench, dressed up for travel,
for a moment Korlan didn’t believe it

She shrugged and said,”I needed a new scene,
and I never have traveled far from home,
besides, I think, saving so many souls,
that such a hero should not be alone.”

Weapons were pressed in Korlan’s big hands,
a sword, a shield, and two curved hunting bows,
he mounted his stead, gave the folks a nod,
and with a kick, off the couple did go.

The king never found out who did the deed,
though he ordered a large, exhaustive search,
despite all his power it seemed as if
the man Korlan had vanished from the Earth.

But such was his anger that he ordered
his troubadours to curve poor Korlan’s name,
laying on him the princesses passing,
despite the Hrethwite being truly to blame.

But if you go to the taverns of Magoss,
and drink ale until the hours are late,
you’ll he the folk sing of Korlan the Wrongs,
and how this true hero held the town gate.
Form: Epic


Premium Member Qualitative's Quantitative Dilemma

Qualitative’s Quantitative Dilemma
                                                                   by Odin Roark

Numbers in checkers
Numbers in chess

Thinking beyond 2 + 2 = 4
Knowing 2 & 2 
Portends extension
Invites the mind to ponder
Knowing a concluded 4
Indubitably finite

And so it goes
This constant tug-of-war
Placing the challenging value of quality
Against the easier calculated quantity

Like the riches of a fairytale ruler
Versus the needs-fulfilled of the provincial 
One wallows in numbers for counting
While the other sees their every move
That of thinking through what constitutes
The next hour’s harvest of nourishment

Who is with the fear of losing?
The burden of fright?

Who smiles trustingly on patience?
The gift of nurturing?

If life were a board game
Which terrain would you choose?

That of hop skip and jump
The plundering of any spoils within reach
Or that which demands careful decision
Where precise positioning of tomorrow
May continue to provide all one needs
While protecting all worth dying for
That stealth-like foreshadowing gift
Answering one of history’s
Exhaustive conundrums

Must quality of long-term goals
Always be threatened by 
Quantity of short-term rewards?
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Enclosed Rhyme Sonnet: Nature's Mirror

*Image of Mirror Lake by Pixabay.

Enclosed Rhyme Sonnet: Nature's Mirror

Forget-me-not thy scent hast taste of time 
for thou art pleased thy stance ere errant cast 
thyself on tendrils secrets e'er none past
knowest thy name advance thy claim and climb.

O rose blossom beauty thy petals art
exhaustive, and as there's none to question 
thou hast looks that clear a room's impression,
thus, to heaven astir, findeth your heart.

Lily, my dearest, how befitting of
names of one who vigils cemeteries,
thy reacheth yourselves our commentaries,
tis naught ours but thine, remember thee, love.

Tis nature, reflective and revealing,
whereth layeth true for death is willing.

2022 August 17
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member God Has a Reason

God’s plan has worked beautifully. 
I now know what sixteen days of pure hell feels like.
I understand more about chronic pain, and I will have more empathy than ever before.
I had no idea this was going to be my introduction 
to my summer vacation. 
God has a plan.  It is much bigger than mine, so I cannot buck it.  
This introduction to the world of pain has been a nightmare that I hope to wake up and
walk away from. Every day I say “Tomorrow I will be pain-free.” I am so ready for that.

In God’s time. Not mine.
In God’s way. Not mine.
A reminder that I am not in charge here.
That I have no say in the when or where of it at all.
I am helpless, a minion, fighting exhaustion and lack of sleep due to pain and pills.

My exhaustive efforts have in no way brought me the relief 
I thought they might.
I have used creams, salves, ointments, and I have been 
on fourteen different medications
diagnosed by seven different doctors or nurse practitioners.    

God has a reason.
I sure wonder what it is….
And when will it be satisfied?

Another Day Another Accursed Blank Screen

Another Day...Another Accursed Blank Screen

Ma wink'n and blink'n
     mind nod yet awake,
     nor insights keen,
asper ho hum usual, this
     (day-glo bull leave
     me you) after noon,
     (October thirtieth
     two thousand and eight teen),

mine myopic brown
     marbled occipital orbs
     fixate upon a
     lone blinking cursor -
     hooping such intense stare
     will magically glean
a divine comedy,
     or even mediocre

     shaky spear writ tragedy, none
     the less letting thoughts
     glom (cess) pool like
     into some elusive essence,
     finding me madly chasing
     (feebly, lamely, queerly
     and ridiculously
     likened to a teen

age paramour) intriguing,
     nattering, and wordlessly
     spellbinding notion
     all the way to Abilene,
     perhaps metamorphosing
    into a topnotch 
     poem (ska lean),
swiftly tailored harried

     style even out rivaling
     the best newsy
     Lake Woebegone fabulist
     (formerly Nordic European)
scribes, that juiced might earn
     me some crisp 
     legal tender green,
yet impetus to write,

     NOT predicated on ram
     ping up checking account,
     which primary queen
tis essential money source
     of mine to pay bills
     appears extremely lean,
and thus apologize if
     any hint of desperation

     (PULL EASE pledge to
     Matthew Scott Harris charity)
     seeps extemporaneously typing
     this poetic expression,
     when financial resources
     picked bone dry clean,
and me fanciful
     thoughts cannot help

     wishing for miraculous
     intervention tub bring,
     a raft of smiley faces
     tomb eye gentle mien
such as receiving
     an anonymous bajillion
     dollars donated (tummy)
     from tennis scene legend

     (in her own mind)
     aery Billy Jean
King, whose near
     exhaustive earnings -
     at least compared
     to thy germane mein kampf
     (accrued during - her mist
     starry re:us horse sing around)

     straw berry fields
     forever hay day
     with tangerine trees, 
     and marmalade skies
     completing tennis 
     (tense) backdrop against
     engendered match with 
     the late Bobby Riggs.
Form: Lyric


Premium Member reheating nachos

Peter (my bf) and I are keeping it modest, practicing the art of the small things. Among our repertoire of pleasures are simple conversations, after long, exhaustive school days, in non-technical language.

Shall we wax poetic-ish?

Ever, my heart had blazed as if branded by fire.

Then love finally arrived to sweetly quench that unseen, smoldering blaze..

Fate, for a while, like scissors, came between us.
But having thus far proceeded, I did sorely miss the confections of closeness.

So, I shamelessly plotted to conjure sordid-reunions.

You may damn the force of my weaknesses and think me devilish,
but I am, after all, a living, female thing.

Do I relive that awful trauma? No, living in the past is like reheating nachos.
No one wants that.

Or do we? We take so many pictures, now-a-days.
Are we sore afraid of losing our yesterdays?
.
.
Songs for this:
matters of the heart by lovlaine
Oh Honey! (I Love You) by Peach Tree Rascals
Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz

Premium Member Rambling Advice To My Kids

Plunged onto this planet 
Seemingly from outer space 

Your list of desires will be long 
Your list of needs will be short

Boil it down to the basics 
We all need to be seen and heard 
In order to be who we are meant to be 
Not the version someone else wants us to be 

Allow yourself to tune into your soul
Knowing who you are puts puzzle pieces into place
Then you can decide on your own essential building blocks 

Some ideas for how to cobble together the mosaic of your life:
Never stop learning 
Question your assumptions 
Continually be curious 
Be willing to change your mind with new information 
Admit when you are wrong 
Be kind to yourself and others 
Listen more than you talk, you can learn something from every person you meet 

This in not an exhaustive list 
I'm still learning on the fly
The journey never ends

Know that life doesn’t need to be solved 
It evolves and will be messy along the way
Even with the setbacks just keep pushing forward
You are making progress despite the detours
Sometimes the detours derail you into your destiny 

Get out of your own way 
Follow the signs of life
Don’t push back
Once you lean into life things change 
Let the universe take over and steer
Enjoy the ride

active billionaires

Active billionaires 

We get tired of his face, which is a mirror
into his soul shows an obsession with self
has drowned his tender heart was 
in agreement with the world around him
it is about power, the dislikeable want
to be loved, to show strength is second
best to be feared when love fails 
overactive and exhaustive, he bothers
 about things that are unimportant for
for us, but of vital interest his one road 
self-centered intelligence, to be liked he
has to feign compassion for those he sees
as a loser and secretly despises
in silent moments, he senses his loss, 
but feels defeated til the  engine of his busy
life revs up, and he can throw himself into
the clamor of a life that is a mere echo of
the loss he has suffered.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Aioue - A Minimalist's Worldview

Aioue (pronounced A-wah, with no emphasis on either syllable) is a way of seeing and living in the reality of the Source of all things. The word comes from the notion that it is made up entirely of vowels, which create the least amount of conscious intervention in the breath. Breath is the very definition of consciousness on any level. It is the eternal and the temporal, residing in a one syllable word. The Hebrew word for God sounds vaguely, phonetically like breathing and keeps the tongue out of the way. Aioua has the same idea at its core and by design keeps any further human ideals out of its existence.
 
Life is (re)animated when Aioua’s name enters again into you. It is spoken with every rhythmic cycle of breathing and returns to its source when you or anything that possesses it can no longer speak it. All sentient things are eternally uttering the reality of that which it borrows its life from.  
 
One does not need an exhaustive volume of systematic theology to live in its light. There is more than enough in this simple 5 vowel English word to keep any planet fully occupied for as long as it exists. Indeed, the more we add well-meaning but short sighted philosophical meat to it in order to understand it, the more rancid and exclusive it becomes, a product of a higher functioning world more focused on amassing and weaponizing knowledge than on pure intrinsic understanding.  
 
Aioue speaks.“Use my name to live in peace with each other, but stay away from the planet of Europa”. What’s on Europa, you ask?… my point exactly. Dump your questions and don’t build a sub-culture in it’s name. Each time you come around, live and breathe and die in it. Plenty of discoveries remain in the known universe to whet your curiosity. Too many think they know better and have attempted to land on another planet looking for answers that are not to be had, and too many innocent people have suffered as a result. 
 
This primal understanding has been inside us since before the first religion was erected.
Form: Prose

10 Poems That Define Me

There might be more to me that I haven't explored yet, but of what I know, here are the 10 poems that define me:

 I Am:  A non-exhaustive list of the elements of my existence

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/i_am_1251444


 An Ode To Those Cities:  An important part of my journey through these years and the places that made me who I am

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/an_ode_to_those_cities_1252736


 The Unwritten Story:  The dilemma of my mind when I am not sure if I wish to pour my thoughts on paper or wait for some other day

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_unwritten_story_1251186


 The Perpetual Voyage:  My fantasies of a place that I imagine to be my city and that will be able to hold me

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_perpetual_voyage_1251184


 Memories of Insomnia:  I wrote it on a night when I couldn't sleep and wondered about the people I'd once known, happens often

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/memories_of_insomnia_1249676


 Memoirs:  This is about Autumn, the season I love and can relate to, because withering rebirths lives.

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/memoirs_1251430


 Paracosm:  My muse pretty much every day, of a world that I wish exists

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/paracosm_1252051


 Solitude:  My idea of a pious love that blends into me yet nourishes my solitude

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/solitude_1251645


 Rendezvous:  I wrote this one long back and it truly explains the kind of introvert I am in person, especially in love

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/rendezvous_1252258


 Elixir of Life:  A superficial peek into the thoughts that revolve in my mind when I am alone

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/elixir_of_life_1252996


10 Poems That Define Me Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Winner: First Place
Form: List

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