Long Extols Poems
Long Extols Poems. Below are the most popular long Extols by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Extols poems by poem length and keyword.
As we search the river’s source,
It jumps the banks of our twisted past,
Set sail for the uncharted,
The pale flickering of the pole star,
The ever present circle,
Surrounding, unfolding, revealing,
Where mere words find their ending,
My being extols with creation,
As the unseen manifests,
My heart glows at the hope of promise,
Wings of protection above,
Passover and Pentecost crossing,
The sentient creatures converge,
The fluxing pulse of the Comforter,
And I marvel at the care,
That she left the Teacher’s feet for me,
Within His radiant love,
Lives the sustenance of our spirits,
Behold the divine order,
This ink is the blood of the prophets,
The words that come unbeckoned,
To every thief emboldened by grace,
To whom pardon is granted,
Pension within His magnus opus,
New senses are awakened,
All the expanse of ether alive,
The tongue of my muse proclaims,
The Logos who is Lion and Lamb,
The cloud of saints angelic,
Ever spreading the incense of prayer,
Those sown in humility,
Are the heirs of the royal bloodline,
This is the message of love:
“Tend the spark within; fear is no more”,
So hearing, I am entranced,
Imbued in spinning perpetual,
Beyond the evanescent,
Dreams coalesce in truth triumphant,
On this plane surrounding time,
Reverence is felt in shades of silence,
Communing I am aware,
Our souls form the structure of heaven,
Grafting to the woven chord,
Volition found in acquiescence,
Eyes set to the horizon,
My love drinks in a dawn without end,
The well that will not run dry,
Our longing, His signature sincere,
Washing in resurrection,
With the sign of victory christened,
The Light Incarnate burning,
Baptized by fire, our eyes perfected,
Perceiving that great storehouse,
Where moth and rust could never be known,
There every blessing returns,
In harmony transposed to healing,
Upon her visage reflects,
The Illuminate everlasting,
Burning from our countenance,
The remembrance of locusts and lies,
Latent instinct intrinsic,
Drawing us to our intended home,
Confident in obtaining,
Beatrice kneels before the I AM,
Eternal Author of time,
Whose character fills the Book of Names
Evergreen Community
Here is a tale to astound and to stretch any viewer’s fantasy and imagination…
Proudly presented by the creative people behind The Twilight Zone productions..
A loving family of a couple and their 2 daughters arrived at a guarded community…
Having sold off everything on a gamble to begin life anew in this new community…
They are out of options on how to bring up their ever rebellious elder teenaged daughter…
Who is heavily tattoed with hair hideously coloured, bubble gum chewing and bad mannered..
This new community is touted to bring about a positive turn to any family in suffering..
There are even beefy security guards to quell any dissenting teenagers from rebelling..
The leader of the commune guides and controls the flock of registered families..
Whenever there are disruptive teenagers, the whole commune meet in harmony…
They then cast their lots in colored beads, black or white, their numbers will decide for free…
Treatment for any troubled and rebellious kid, the family will be assigned a healthy tree…
The leader extols the use and love to be derived from any unmanageable teenaged mutiny…
Once treated, the love and benefits will be immense for the continual health of the commune…
So the plot thickens as our colorful teenaged girl was changed in appearance to conform..
But her rebellious and suspicious character was not a little diminished nor was she reformed…
She realised to her deepening horror the nameless dangers that are in store for kids like her..
Her unflinching love for her younger sister was ever uppermost in her mind, big sister like her..
Witness her confusion, her growing horror as she realises the depths of a sisterly betrayal…
Hear her desperate pleas and screams for help, when her family as one, turned away in denial..
Shades of the Stepford Wives, what a twist to such an incredible tale of imagination…
Little wonder in the Twilight Zone, a viewer will be lost in a world of wonder and astonishment..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBaOAUG1zr8&list=PLbxdxEWxTqX81L3NnAU3nEwvPhkT7FuRm&index=23
Heading to a cauldron in the dry sea of sands
Far afield the Sahara shores devoid of life
With an array of dexterous army riding further North
Our horses neighs as honed swords beholds Amir al-Mu'mini's hands
Death on battlefield is an honourary worth
Even the treasures of war fuels this sweet strife
To bring back silvers, gold, and pleasuring flesh
As a "Missing-Captured" for my already bloated chambers
And the crown will yield more cowries if Allah blesses
The throne, to rax few shells to the proselytes or sheik in the madrasas
Who barely tattles my fate but extols me greatly
The fogged dust on our tarsals censored vision in the brown mist
And the day mocked our sights
Yet we fought with fallen numbers till the sun left the east
To the west with blunt swords clanging defeat
While the crescent moon and rayed star decked the night
Our feral horses snorted as the numbers of our enemies diminishes
From thousands to hundreds and then tens till they are no more
Then rode us to the oasis under the night's eyes
The wind sang victorious song for us while we quench our thirst
Even when water taste like sand as we drink there was plenty to pour
In our jars for the next few day's ablution
~
Our flintlock muskets hug straight at our back
As we rode our horses with our prisoners of war
Tied with our turbans to a caravan camel
Along with ostriches, ivories, kolanuts and salts
To a waiting parade while my horsemen brandished their swords
It excited the maidens who peeped under a parasol
Their breast dangles like ripe mangos in a tree.
My father rode to me with his horsemen chanting the greatness of God
He was Clad in an ostrich's feather in his turban
He embraced me and the trumpet went amok with melodious sounds
These I've always desired - a titular prince
Worthy of all admiration in the whole of the five emirates
Love isn't just a single word
or feeling
Said to tickle an ear and
leave you reeling
Nor is love abstract and
void of care
But what one envisions and
does all year
We convey our love by
things that we do
When a loved one is hurting
we hurt too
Love is conveyed by deeds
not merely said
And connects us all with a
common thread
Love is single soul
embedded in two separate
bodies
That keeps the heart
beating for many centuries
Love isn't a feeling for a
short period
For Its care is countless and
myriad
Love is a word some find
difficult to say
But it leaves an enormous
price to pay
Love is feeling of endless
sacrifice
That can never be bought
with no price
Love is bond that binds two
souls
Its a great gift that must be
extols
Love is a shield that not
only blinds our heart from
hate
But distance our soul from
all forms of irate
Love means when one
hurts us, we forgive
Not five years later to bring
up and relive
Love takes our soul to
where it belong
for it keeps no record of
wrong
Love means to give without
asking
For it makes living on earth
basking
Love is boundless and
priceless
Its limitation is endless
Love sometimes forces on
us a ling wait
But love never delegates us
power to dictate
Love is that master key to
the door of happiness
Its the bricks that forms the
mantle of success
We don't have to agree
with each other to love
For God gave me what I
was unworthy of
What's held in your heart
your mouth will speak
So before speaking do a
mental critique
love is never idle or to be
cast in mothballs
I see love as a servant in
coveralls
In short, Love is GODS
nature in procreation
For it's the genesis of
human creation
Thieving Without Conscience
There are thieves, and there are thieves without conscience. ..
Woe to the average Malaysia, of the latter are our elected politicians....
As the US treasury did put it so succinctly that there can be no doubts...
Malaysia as a sovereign nation has been robbed in broad daylight......
By our exalted policians entrusted to uphold our country's economy and its ideals..
By blatantly treating 1MDB as a vessel for securing immense sovereign funds...
And chanelling those funds into privately owned bank accounts...
Colluding with third parties that involved of all things, a so called Arabian prince...
Makes you puke just to think how our corrupted political bigwigs hasten to band together..
Just so that they can cling on to office and indulge in more misuse of power and plunder....
A political purist extols, Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. ..
That sums up nicely the gang of thieves who somehow determines how Malaysia is doing...
Malaysia has the dubious record of being the biggest kleptocracy case in American history...
The sheer magnitud of which involves billions and billions in US currency....
Those who have been following news about the 1MDB imbroglio since a couple of years ago..
Will recall the many evasive statements and misleading answers from 1MDB the vessel...
Through which billions of funds were raised only to be mysteriously siphoned off...
Involving convulated financial transactions that moved chunks of money across nations..
Poor Malaysians, we are still saddled with corrupted politicians and their cronies...
Hoping fervently that the big brother in the US Department of Justice will invoke some miracle...
T
Memories: Friend and Foe,
collaboration with Lin Lane
"Memory is man's greatest friend and worst enemy."
~ Gilbert Parker ~
Laud precious memories when cold nights prevail
Those that fan love's flames as wintry winds wail
for upon those images, a lonely heart sets sail
if only in an interlude where grief cannot assail
Tho' behind and betwixt are storms, dark mortal seas
yet love births sweet glories, devoid of costly fees
Far more beautiful than earth is Nature and its trees
On a romantic path, in truest light, may God it please
Mourns the heart when memories are bittersweet
Each one a plunging dagger, blades of winter sleet
A mighty foe one cannot banish or cast off in defeat
for with each renewed attack, pain is wont to repeat
Memories of past failures plague sad, wounded souls
Invisible afflictions impose such pretentious tolls
Past wrongs are seared into regret's grievous roles
remaining as fair warning, which wisdom fairly extols
But there are melodious moments; dulcet thoughts
where flows trickling memories and elation imparts
rushing through veins 'til canvassed in pulsing hearts
as treasured paintings; unforgettable works de' arts
When a smile, sans apparent reason, plays upon lips
and eyes shine as though emerging from a lunar eclipse
there will arise a memory, perhaps in cursory snips
a prize to relish, delectable as wine a connoisseur sips
Robert J. Lindley and Lin Lane collaboration.
Rhyme, 12-09-2019
Note: Thank you Lin. An honor to collaborate with you
and see firsthand your fine poetic talents on blessed display..
God bless...
Hope and Faith
With my body suffering from acute pains
After a fall on a slippery floor,
With the back hitting against the footsteps
And several ribs fractured at the core
Sleep becomes utterly vain,
Conflicting thoughts and clashing concepts
Invariably invade my mind,
The days seem to be dull, dreary and long,
Hardly inner peace I can find
And only wish my course not to prolong.
But the mind, after deliberations,
Counsels me not to forsake hope,
Not to give way to emotions
Nor a dark despair to adopt
But to cherish and nurture hope
As it is the effulgent light
That keeps the spirit ever bright,
Spurs man to rise up if he falls,
To move ahead to reach his real goal
And mark his imprint in the human scroll.
Hope enshrines a positive attitude,
Helps to discern the bright side of life
Relieves man from obnoxious solitude,
Assuages his arduous daily strife
And lends a hand to restore one`s health,
The most precious gift in the world
Which no amount of treasures or wealth,
And not even the rarest of pearls,
Can retrieve for one striving for a last breath
And who maintains hope at arm`s length.
Yet a low voice deep from my inner self
Extols the the virtues of faith in the Lord
As faith in the Lord is faith in oneself
And not to think of the Lord we can`t afford;
He cares for us in ways we can`t believe,
Extends His hands to temper our downfall,
Works out wonders our pain to relieve
And showers His grace on us if we call
On Him with wilful faith and devotion
And with resolute determination.
By Krishnanand Guptar
the poor, the sick, the infirm, the abused
not one, but plenty of them, all over
a vacant sadness on each face, waiting to be enthused
the poor, the sick, the infirm, the abused
wait for a kindness from luckier ones to be rescued
do I care or even stop a second to ponder?
the poor, the sick, the infirm, the abused
not one, but plenty of them, all over
for this question, pares my insides, and I shiver
when I put myself in their place, and imagine
the pain, the angst, the helplessness, of the sufferer
for this question, pares my insides, and I shiver
with all my humbleness, I utter a prayer
and promise that this question I will reexamine
for this question, pares my insides, and I shiver
when I put myself in their place, and imagine
I want to pass the loving word for them needy souls
for they can smile and feel in life belonged
like I do with my family that fills my bowls
I want to pass the loving word for them needy souls
so they can hear the singing bird that extols
and let them live a dream they may have longed
I want to pass the loving word for them needy souls
for they can smile and feel in life belonged
if you also are tormented by this question
and an urge to see more smiles around you
then let us join hands, it is my suggestion
together we can better reduce man’s regression
if you also are tormented by this question
answer to which is now clearly overdue
if you also are tormented by this question
and an urge to see more smiles around you
What once was true can never be erased
It must remain a testament to time
In mind and heart it cannot be defaced
And to it will not cling denial's grime
To hide what was a part of history
The story of your life and heart's desire
To now pretend that it's a mystery
Will serve to burden heart and make it tire
Be not ashamed of feelings that were true
Of love you found the will so to express
What heart extols through words must shine on through
To bury truth, the harm will not redress
Be truth to self, and stand by what you write
Or lose yourself, and thus lose poet's might
Eileen Manassian
Post Script:
A poem is a living breathing entity that exits outside the poet's control. When we write, we risk being judged and that is painful, but...if we never write, we risk the judgment of our own hearts, and that is cowardice. I've deleted a poem or two here because I've been afraid of what people will say of it, particularly the sensual pieces. In the end, I've felt like I'm not true to myself when I conform to what others think of me. Have I been attacked for it? Yes! Has it hurt? Yes! Did it make me evaluate myself? Yes! Did it teach me a lesson? Yes! It taught me to be STRONGER...and stick to my guns. What we most fault in what others write is what we are struggling with ourselves. It's true. There is a fine line between being vulnerable and being wise. That fine line is the POET'S to cross, and no one else's. :)
A river dividing two disparate lands,
Perspectives so contrasting, separate they stand:
A physical land, full of logic and sense,
And one metaphysically deep and intense.
The domain of one, with logic infused,
Acknowledges facts scientifically proved.
The world thus supported is solid and sure
Enriching, evolving a knowledge most pure.
The thrill and excitement in life there is found
By knowing and seeing the patterns around
And fitting them into a construct ideal
Distinguishing all that is not and is real.
The other domain, of a mystical bent,
Extols the abstract as its highest intent.
A more philosophical view of the world
Ensures that the mind is unfettered, unfurled.
Thus freed, the emotions and spirit can range,
Imagining concepts most vibrant and strange
Excitement is born from the boundless belief
Existence is wondrous in Magic's fair fief.
The people who live in these lands so distinct
Are often unable to see how they're linked,
So rooted are their antithetical views
They scorn one another, their notions eschew.
But twining and winding the great river flows
Unmindfully carving its route as it goes,
Eroding the banks just a little each day,
Transporting a part of each realm away.
True wisdom is carried in currents downstream -
The best of both worlds: of science, of dream -
Where magic and logic can both coincide
And joyful existence from both is supplied.
August 2015