Long Expansions Poems
Long Expansions Poems. Below are the most popular long Expansions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Expansions poems by poem length and keyword.
The Senior Center was a beehive of active waiting
to die.
Bingo
but not ballroom dancing.
Knitting
but not garden expansions.
Physical therapy
but not yoga
and not chi gong,
much less mindful meditations
sung in four part harmony.
The new guy,
just growing into sixty-five,
asked them
How would we like to be remembered
one hundred years from now?
That doesn't seem likely,
I know,
but perhaps more likely together
than playing Solitaire
side by side.
I would like to be remembered
as healers of The River
said a somber SeptemberGenerian woman
surrounded by ancient lady friends.
No one needed to ask why.
We all knew
what was coming downriver
for future regenerations
of thirsty toxined minds
with biodiverse bodies.
And so we found younger allies
who owned property along The River,
beginning with the railroad company,
and the Mohegans
and the Pequots,
where a Senior knew a Senior
with a well-placed daughter,
and sometimes a son
of unusual cooperative and long-term focus.
Together we planted firs
and cedars along polluted and denuded banks,
for future generations to manage,
harvest for housing
and furniture
and fiber
and possibly even coffins
waiting for memories of polluted rivers
to die.
That was one hundred years ago
we started
in this regenerative Senior Center,
and still going strong
as each year
a new incoming class
of those who finally reached sixty-five
joined our river healing project,
more recently also producing fruit trees
and berries,
flax
and hemp,
mushrooms
and nuts
and sweetgrass baskets
woven by SeptemberGenerians.
Women and a few surviving men
and some more in-between
smiling together
at the round cedar table in the back,
remembering Elder healers
of our barren land
and naked River.
If I had a billion dollars, let me tell you what I would do
I would buy a big enough rope, find Africa, throw it, and then tow it
I would tell the Klu Klux Klan "see that ocean, see that land"
I want you to row it and sow it let me beat you, let me rape you
Let me hang you until your soul escapes you
In the pages of history, I will erase you completely
Then, I will take the credit by using faces of people who look like me
I would put Saddam on my payroll and stop his expansions
I would purchase all of the prisons and turn them into marvelous mansions
I would bring back all of the kings
I would bring back Martin and Elvis too
I would resurrect Bruce Lee and pay him to teach me karate
Japanese, Vietnamese, Siamese, and kung fu
I would pay the sun to only shine over my house
Neither I nor any of my people would ever go without
I would buy back time and make it stop and go for me
Then, I would go back in time and set my people free
I could perform wonderous miracles if I had the money
All of my aspirations explored, logically and methodically
One other is above me
He is the almighty
Him and I are tight you see
He lets no one spite me
He lets no army fight me
Only he is allowed to disagree with me
It is he that has carried my load when my burdens were too heavy to bear
It is he who hath taken my hand and led me through times in despair
It is he that prepares a home for my soul
It is he that is an exception to my payroll
It is he that allowed me to have this fantasy
It is he that brought me back to reality
It is he that has nurtured my spirituality
It is he who feeds me mentally and physically
It is he that keeps me humble and true
Because he knows If I had a billion dollars what I would do
Peaceful and equitable democratic government
does not treat residents, or even non-residents,
as potentially predative property
to further grow the wealth
of those who already have too much
due to past profit histories of enslaved
and indentured
and domesticated
and commodified labor
Winner v Lower caste-preservations
falling short
of Win and Win's evolving
cooperative
caste expansions.
Democratically healthy
wealth optimizing governance
serves our most cooperatively polypathic nature-spirits
of co-arising nutrition-nurturing
eco-political healthcare properties.
We cooperatively own,
and too competitively lose,
and therefore need to more regeneratively WinWin manage
all our assets,
and those other organic mindbody parts too.
Daffodil-lit in the moon's tone,
a soft embrace,
a flocking companion in a dim evening.
Rear view of the stage show:
Shiva's Sati, burning in perfection,
wild at its peak, soft at its core;
a loss that shatters the hope in loneliness.
A curse beyond its cure,
no magic stick, no angel love;
brilliant light, blue shadow,
a lonely mansion within reflection.
A mechanical bloom bleeds to break,
shatters to grow up.
Timid expansions over its cold hold;
a firefly's guidance to heavenly intimacy.
What a gain—to become a memory-knowing well.
Departed in a moment,
shattered deeply;
manifested determination to exit.
Maybe it wasn't an illumination
that went blind.
A pure exchange of my tunes for your flames.
Miss you now,but you waned out forever.
She holds the keys
within illuminated Heart
arising from Dark Moist Beginnings
slow awakenings from cell swimmings
magnetic force is Spirit Mother
drawing waves in particle images as Sky remains canvas blue and white
for sea expansions or keel stage piercings
without Her palms and wounds Godforce is stillness waiting to create
or will not, either way ~ nothing is formed or given awake or asleep
for womb is misty moist lava to hold and release
kindling Fires of Creation or
Fires of Destruction
Sky showers new realities defining different boundaries
when Her Heart vulnerable opens
with oxygenated winds of change warm
Spirit Mother paid for Her wisdom
with persecutions, burnings at the stake
know her Love explores replenishing
is Power in artistry
or Mysteries playing
sometimes Mastery
never only the Song of Solomon
~~~~~~~~~
While watching the expansions of cities I felt too sad one day. In order to create more roofs and houses, Green fields were slaughtered to meet the passions of the builders and our politicians.
The places where there used to swing in air, the branches of dancing mustard and linseed flowers were weeping with tears in their eyes. I kept moving from one field to another and I found the same story everywhere.
At another place a small water stream was in the process of elimination and concrete pipes were laid beneath the ground to make the entire place on a level. The builders were about to celebrate a party, as their building plans were in the final stage of taking a shape. New shining houses with lots of street lights will soon be there, where Nature was spreading its smiles in the form of flowers and buds, grains and harvests, brooks and streams, orchards of Mango and guava. The old trees and wild flowers with hanging creepers and their smiling little buds would be wiped out as the old order changes giving place to new.
I thought for a moment that perhaps our new generations would never know why the beauty and music, which lurks from the yellow Mustard and purple Linseed flowers, when their crops swings and dances in the months of Fagun* (Feb. and March) inspires us to write Poems and Songs. Perhaps the new generation would be too busy in exploring new stars and planets in search of some water and air. As by that time the Earth would be empty from such blessings of Nature.
THE POEM ON SPRING WILL BE HERE VERY SOON
I am Sphinx Stone, Sun stationed statue
silent sculptured synoptic, not marble or
granite nor black tourmaline or crystal
timelines cutting cross my magnetic
magenta miracle to dissipate in dry
desert winds, my gaze unmoved
as quizzing quantum queens swirl
around a Blue Planet ascending
Sphinx Stone gathering goddess’ goodness
whilst slippery Sophi-el sprinkle sparkle
Nile evaporations down Sumerian
phantom phœnix photons
here I stare broken-nosed across vast
expansions exiting or entering dual
portal claws hot rooted into Violet Flames
of Mother Earth belying my etheric origins
Did Leo descend from helium heavens
painstakingly perfect from His tumultuous
gut with goblets of gold, goblins gyrating ?
ask you may North African secrets slither
no soiled sounds to simmer in sandy
storms or scarlet sunsets spreading
spells, silence my singular speech to
skulls of pharaohs or peasant alike
I am Sphinx Stone, my silhouette
signposted in simple or significant sigils
Saturn’s starlit sighs bypass not my
knowing aloof yet vacant stare which
agelessly gather stories of aeons
imprinting dreams of God into manifest
luminosity becoming your words on lion
bones or this ephemeral page
Sphinx Stone I see sabian riddled profiles
making prolific progress patterns filled
with steely grit, come now release
agitated ages of bygone bitters to
prick or paddle dimensions where
appled anemones sing my stare into song to
swallow swiftly sweetly slivers of sanctities
I remain Sphinx Stone stable
unsullied forevermore
One has to be aware of the wandering moon,
sometimes still caressing near the bluish noon.
Measures of days signified by the queen of night,
bowing to deities over wide water shores to all might.
Bringing forward the blessings to the forgotten dream,
providing save passage to that purpose keen.
Beyond the ideal towards enchanted goods,
where more is meant that meet all mental foods.
In service high to touch that hermitage,
where faintest stars in still, are the majestic judge.
Signs of symbols reflecting infolded spheres,
slowly revealing agents of necessities coming to years.
Turning moon time table to the perfect fit,
intimate hands that speak the voice to submit.
The waning and waxing phase through daily mansions,
nocturnal mother and her love expansions.
To cover the eyes that blear feeble illusion,
creating integrity with firm conclusion.
Sweet echo calling from many lives with omens,
melodies that sustain the purity of emotions.
References from recorded certainties with its bliss,
pensive meditation and treasures from the dark abyss.
Great Grandpa Moses first built the old shack
in the summer on nineteen twenty-three,
thrown up with big logs, hard maple and oak,
it only measured twelve feet by fifteen.
There have been two expansions since those days,
a real bathroom and a whole upper floor,
with the bunkrooms it will sleep eight people,
but gets crowded if you add any more.
It sits way back in the Northwoods forests,
in an empty corner way up in Maine,
amidst logging roads sits four hundred acres
that have for so long boasted of our name.
In the Fall months in has been the site
where we’ve taken close to one hundred deer,
one at a time, you got to follow laws,
we’ve just been doing it for many years.
And though the hunt carries its own appeal,
it’s comradery that has made this place,
all that goes on when nightfall has settled
and we sit ’round the fieldstone fireplace.
The amount of beer consumed on these grounds
may strike a rock star as very obscene,
not to mention the cards tossed fast about,
and the stories told that nobody believes.
Outside stretches a ground-level deck,
an outdoor room in the long, warmer months,
a hand-made table sits there upon it,
a good space where we often clean our guns.
The land is mostly an evergreen swath,
though forty acres cleared form a good plot,
to keep the herd big, it’s around this place
where we get them more likely than not.
Though it was deep in a small old-growth patch
where my father bagged the family’s only moose,
he’d been lucky, got a permit that year,
and shot the bull while it fed under spruce.
I’d like to say I got a deer every year,
but hunters can be well-known for their lies,
I usually get a buck every other,
those whitetails really know how to survive.
These days some of my older nephews
want to run power and wifi to the joint,
whenever they do well all roll our eyes,
they seem entirely to miss the point!
And now my boy Mose, though you be but one year,
I pray you will not become like those fools,
and grow to have may adventures here,
one day I know you will love this place too.
While academics often find
what we are looking for,
a positive correlation between intelligence
and wisdom,
Special occasional confusion
about revolutionary absence of Left with Right correlation
frightens me
Even, and unevenly,
while I am manifesting my best for love
and trust
in humanity's destiny--
Disciplined trials
experiments
proactive investigations
or chaotically dissonant OtherUnwise.
While deductive rational intelligence
develops interdependent quantities
and qualities
And apparently independent bits
of detached paradigmatic information,
Wisdom adds a co-arising ladder
of internal health knowledge
seeking external wealth intelligence
promoting conscious vocational formation
and reformation
and transformation
and unformation
and preformation,
Healthy ego analogy as wealthy ecohabitat political power,
economic energy ecology,
dynamic grace theology,
blending (creolizing, transubstantiating)
Nature with polyphonic singing ringing vibrant internal Spirit,
Humane with Divine golden rules and ratios and elixirs,
Secular with harmonic Sacred,
Health with Wealth of polypathic wisdom
Bilaterally co-gravitating information
internally absorbing
co-arising external exflowing co-present consciousness
Bicamerally valuing past loves and hates
predicating future healthy wisdom passions
more than pathological
nihilistic
foolish LeftBrain over-expansions
of Yang with Yin co-manifestations
of multicultural destinations.