Long Far as the eye can see Poems
Long Far as the eye can see Poems. Below are the most popular long Far as the eye can see by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Far as the eye can see poems by poem length and keyword.
An Aria Beyond A Silent Dream
Just yesterday, I was dreaming some love I’ll never have
And now I’m sitting all alone, smoking… this night
Some soul within that never was mine, seems to have left
Like falling stars crying so, fading upon its dying light
It was just like a dream, a dream which began it all
A fantasy I so thought, a reality now fought
The enigmatic world of The Ancients is the world I saw
Some place where life is only to belong to the rot
I was petrified from the sights of the ungodly world
And I fear even more shall come eventually my sleep
Betrayal portrays the poison mind from the green of an emerald
And I wonder if strength can still be drawn from hearts of the weak
Its been a while since, had the befallen and the defier appear
I’m lost and very much alone atween a portal through stolen time
Though the bond of a steel may assure the undead minions to fear
Yet dependency is a weakness without the drop of faith close behind
Be it so if I should sleep in reality, I’m awaken otherwise within
And upon awakening elsewhere, it isn’t simply a hallucinatory fantasy
And as once more, I walk the path beyond ancient’s dream
I saw a world lost upon where I stand alone, in complete solitary
{With the reality world shut away, despairing never fails to end
The darken haze aloof the skies were evidence of time bearing no when
Bodies in impossible millions lay lifeless as far as the eye can see
With the essence of blood weighing upon the breath of air so free
From where I stood, the battle before seems wearily over and forgotten
With my sword at hand, I was left mortified with delusions of the tragic moment
How is it, a glitter of hope can present itself from this nightmarish hell?
Yet I knew, extraordinary from ordinary isn’t just some words to praytell
I scan the bloodshed more intensely, knowing not what I may assume to find?
And I’m not alone… as something else was heard from behind
There was a voice, voicing sadness and sorrow in solemn aria
Singing perhaps to the heavens, yearning so to be heard from afar
I trail towards the tune and saw a figure standing atop a shadowy stone
Cloaked in an armour that at once suggested swiftness, as well a necklace of bones
And seen in her hand… she held a crypted bow
Where strap over her shoulder, was as well a quiver of arrows
I shiver beneath a frozen sky of milky gray and white
and like a little rabbit whos barely grown into his coat
I linger in the forest bristling like a dry piece of wood
I was detached from my father like a youngling discomfit
I come from a prideful bush of green but its not who I am
settling down under, on a large tuft of mulch
I am the last living acorn settled no longer in the air
but when Autumn sings her song of mellifluous swell
I seem to outlast every flower of her time
Life is but a series of spurts, growths, windy dances
let it be said, " the apple doesn't fall far from the tree"
but neither does the acorn as far as the eye can see
I shiver beneath a frozen sky of milky gray and white
I'm not a blade of grass, nor an eagle, nor an elk
I am an acorn with a little french beret, …
April 17, 2020
Mother Wit
It chooses to whisper
Having endured shouting decades
Feigned listening
Maelstrom's noise
Left behind
Is but a parade
Just married tin cans
Tied to mankind's bumper
How circular the process
Sitting atop time's tree house
This place of early discoveries
Where dos and don'ts became but chaff
Covering kernels of slow growing wisdom
Where innocence washed down
Curiosity's adult fantasies
Ala clandestine Smirnoff watermelon
Now
Hearing tiny sparrows
Nesting high above
Chirping hunger pangs
Awaiting mother and worm
Below
The squirrel rustling through
Acorns
Pausing
Listening to It
While listening to itself
A smile envelops the moment
As far as the eye can see
Roof tops recede
As conifers take their rightful place
Hosting fowl and predator alike
Hoping this stand of nature's essence
Will not be a last stand
In the distance
Heavy earth moving sounds
Pause to be absorbed
Swallowed by evergreen
Rock
Life
Nature's patience
It whispers
As It knows
For all who'll hear
The ancient sound
The BCE echo for many
The Big Bang frequency for others
Peace
Tranquility
Prescience
Hears not noise
Discerns not silence
But embraces the quintessential
Everything
That
Is
Nothingness
In disguise
Dare listen
There is a beautiful little village
Down a long rainbow coloured country lane
Known to only a few
Where collective colourful characters reign
The residents of Rainbow Village
Are a creative colourful bunch
Who meet every week religiously
At the local Village Inn for Sunday lunch
Mr Red is the local policeman
He is driven and a natural born leader
Decisive, firm but fair
Authoritative while following police procedure
Policeman Red married Miss White
The villages well loved librarian
An independent calm gentle soul
A compassionate revered humanitarian
Together they have a daughter
A little girl called Pink who is ten years old
A playful ,sensitive, loving child
Adventurous and bold
Dr Brown is the villages doctor
A warm natured, comforting, reliable man
Who is married to Dr Blue the local veterinarian
A kind ,caring dependable bloke who will help anyone he can
Miss Purple is the towns local artist
Beautiful, talented and unique
Unbelievably imaginative and creative
Her colourful creativity is displayed on every cobbled street
Mr Green is Rainbow Villages resident gardener
A young man totally at one with nature and harmony
The village is abound with happy, bright colourful flora
As far as the eye can see
Mr & Mrs Orange are both school teachers
Both are optimistic, enthusiastic and love to teach
Energetic ,cheerful and passionate
Learning and education never far from their minds reach
Mr Grey , l should say Mayor Grey
Has the village and residents best interest at heart
Always calm, composed and diplomatic
Supporting locals with their creativity, colour and art
Miss Yellow runs the village general store
A lovely outgoing lady with a heart of gold
Always trying to accomodate all the residents wants and needs
Her produce is quality so be quick or it will be sold!
Mr Black is the publican of the Rainbow Inn
An intriguing powerful fellow
A somewhat mysterious man
Who is secretly and hopelessly in love with Miss Yellow
Rainbow Village is a wonderful place to reside
Full of incredible interesting and varied folk
Not always do they see eye to eye
Yet come Sunday all gather and unite over lunch and a joke
The glimmering sheen of ambers and golds opulently carpet the floor
For as far as the eye can see, the metallics delicately lace through the lane
Creating crisp autumnal scenes of ethereal imagery captured in time
The magical sight of the glistening stardust, evocative of the cooling of air
The breath taking spectacular; in all of it's glory
A visionary light that comes once in a year
Crystalline pools in the veins of the leaves, tracing the channels where the water once flowed
Fragile fractures, as the parched leaves decay and return to the earth where their magic resumes
A whole year awaits as we patiently pray for the sweet annual return of the stardust on autumn leaves
What if science ended,
Imagination took flight.
Exploration without bounds,
Mysteries of day and night.
What if the boundaries of thought,
Were not restricted by reason.
A world where all is possible,
Unfettered by the season.
Would the poets take charge,
And guide us through the veil.
With words as their weapons,
Their visions they would unveil.
No more perpetual motion,
No more laws of thermodynamics.
Only boundless imagination,
As far as the eye can see.
The scientists would be left behind,
As poets took the lead.
Their creativity unbounded,
Their thoughts were all we need.
From the smallest atom,
To the furthest star we know.
The poets would explore them all,
With unbounded spirit and flow.
Science would no longer rule,
But its legacy would live on.
In the words of the poets,
A new age would dawn.
A world of endless possibilities,
A place where dreams come true.
Where the impossible becomes real,
And the unreal becomes true.
No more equations or logic,
Only emotions and heart.
The poets would lead us forward,
And science would play its part.
For science is the foundation,
On which imagination builds.
And the poets are the architects,
Who create with their skills.
Let us embrace this new world,
Where science and poetry unite.
Where imagination reigns supreme,
And our dreams take flight.
©THE ELO TRACK POETRY
®Otieno Elvis Gikoi
You promised me a burger and a cup of tea
But you broke you solemn promise to me
No burger van as far as the eye can see
My aching tum was in dire need you see
Oh woe, oh woe, oh woe is me
You promised me a burger for my tea
Succulent meat, caramelised onions and fries
Why oh why did I fall for those lies
My mouth was watering at the very idea …
No burger van, I cried many a bitter tear
It’s grounds for divorce for you promised me
A succulent burger and a cup of tea
1st June 2015
Background info – last week we went to a 2 day blues festival - my hubby had the most wonderful burger from a van. We were going back the next day – I said I would make a picnic so we could sit in the sun outside and listen to the music on the stage in the gardens – he said don't bother with the picnic we will have a burger and a cup of tea…. The van didn’t show up
The forest's morning sunlight tip-toes through the trees
casting puzzle pieces round, oh so, carelessly;
hiding all the corner bits scattered by the breeze.
The slighter boles of ash whisper endlessly
as their upright slash of gray teases 'tween the green
while their larger cousins stand, oh so, stoically.
And, the sky far over head blues the in between
back lighting, spruce and pine, as far as the eye can see.
Man intrudes like a child, man and his machines.
Knocking down the squirrel's nest, disturbing the bee
leaving waste along the path, muddying the stream
misplaced is his disregard in that we all agree.
Oh so brashly, mankind walks through nature's domain
a misfit son, a terror, crippling while he reigns.
I look before me
In the darkness
There is a chasm
Deep as forever
Dark as ebony
Lifeless as an ancient grave
Echoes of voices
Long since faded into the blackness
Still resound from jagged walls
Still trying to find a single person to listen
Pleading for someone to hear
Begging for a person to care
Below jagged rocks
Bones of the hundred, hundred
Broken, shattered, mere pieces
Laying strewn as far as the eye can see
Souls lost to despair wander among the dead
Looking for a way out
Trying to find eternal peace
Wander through the chasm
Crying for lost lives
Wanting one chance
One ray of sun to show them the way out
The light never comes
The dark become eternally darker
And the souls
Lost through their own despair
Wandering a hopeless path
Blind to everything
Hope once lost
Never to be found
Still they search
Cutting a path
Along a railroad track
Through desert grass
With no scenery at all
Apart from passing a
barren dry oasis
Because everything else is
nothing but dunes and sand
as far as the eye can see
That and the odd bit of
desert grass
Accompanied only by the clickady
clack of a railroad soundtrack
beating metronome through
my brain
And still no station whence to stop
Still no crossroad to crossover
No conductor to click or
check i had a ticket bought
Nor even a driver aboard to
steer this direction less train
Worst of all where it's going
Where this train's journey
came from began
Or is eventually supposed to
terminate
What it's e.t.a is or even if
it is predestined to arrive at all
For all i know i just may well
be without my knowledge aboard
The land locked locomotive
equivalent
Of the unsinkable shipwreck
now infamously referred to as
simply
Titanic
And on further inspection
according to the official
passanger manifesto
This ghost train heading head long
into the most desolate of desert
Has exactly the same number
of soul's on board
As it's doomed sister ship
And come to think of it
most eerily of all is today's
date is in fact
Thursday
15 April 2012
100 year's to the day the
month the year the second on
A so called girl named
Rose and boy called Jack
apparently met
And drowned hopelessly in love
till death