Long Fascinates Poems
Long Fascinates Poems. Below are the most popular long Fascinates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fascinates poems by poem length and keyword.
Here I stand once again
Can't care if the words flow anymore
Nostalgic overload blows through my shell
Staring out of an old window
Where did I stand?
Head down, staring out of the old window
Teacher cleaned the blackboards as gentle winds blew
And the kind sun shone upon the trees outside
Only five at the time with no knowledge of the outside world
In such a short time, it's all changed so much
Pixels have become polygons
And VHS has become Blu-Ray
Now here I am
Pale gray skies crying down on me
Eclipsed by my failing generation
Time fascinates me so
She stands before me
Do I run? Do I stay?
I'll grasp at thin air a thousand times before I get my answer
Past, present and future all crash together
All
I
Can see
Fades away
In this darkness I
Cannot be bothered
To find out why I
Cannot breathe
Form:
MANIFESTATIONS
invisible&
yet
inside
a
tantalising
spontaneous
thrill
an
apparition
a discovery
hitherto
unknown
that draws
the eye
something
fascinates
so
movingly
&
to encourage
the
instinctive
emotions
generating
the
cathartic
dream
to revere
the
creative paths
so
volatile
&vulnerable
in
an
eccentric
rapture
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
The passing of the autumn equinox, and the end of October,
now signal everyone it is the first day in November.
The leaves of the forest are brown, red, and gold.
Trees foretell of the coming of winter’s cold.
A local coven gathers in the early morning moonlight.
They join hands and form a circle in the pre-dawn night.
These witches are here for a most festive reason.
It is the Sabbath of Samhain, the end of harvest season.
Among the witches is my red-haired beauty.
Through a flame’s soft amber light, I can barely see.
With her broom, chalice, book of shadows, and an athame,
she joins the others in calling the spirits by name.
People have the wrong idea. She is not at all bad.
This redhead doll excites me when she is sky-clad.
Although there is an autumn chill in the morning air,
none of the witches feels it, or seems to care.
At the end of the esbat, with the coming of the dawn’s light,
I hope to be spending some time with this red-haired delight.
She fascinates me so much. Everything seems right.
In the daylight or the darkness, she is a wonderful sight.
I’m mesmerized by the ocean.
Whether it’s almost silent and still
or thunderous and in turbulent motion,
I’m in awe and cannot get my fill.
The majesty of so vast a creation
overshadows each sight and sound
around me. During contemplation,
all else simply fades into the background.
Wading in its shallow, surging foam
is pleasurable, but I prefer
gazing at it from a distant cliff. When I’m home,
in my mind’s eye, the waves will stir.
I don’t have to sail the “ocean blue”
or know all the life that teems within
to be mesmerized by the magnificent view
of the ocean. Soon—I will see it again.
*"Columbus Sailed the Ocean Blue" is the title of poem by Jean Marzolo.
November 27, 2021
entered in the Wonderstruck Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
December 26, 2021
entered in A Strand (Dec 26) Poetry Contest
May 21, 2022
entered in the Fascination and Awe Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jeff Kyser
June 15, 2022
entered in the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Many years ago I stood at a
place of crossroads. I was so
young, so inexperienced and
so lacking in knowledge. Yes,
much I'd learned, but had the
the sources of my instruction
been totally correct? In youth
I had thought so, but today I
think back to that critical time.
I could have gone left or I could have gone right. I made a choice.
I walked on some more and faced another pair of crossroads which
would also have led me again down completely different pathways.
I wonder sometimes if I'd ever
have become a poet. I wonder
if I'd have stayed married to a
different partner or if I'd have
had two similar children. Would
opposite experiences have made
me very different? Would trials
have been different too? Some
of my physical trials would be
the same no doubt, but would
different circumstances cause
different reactions? I consider
the idea of parallel universes.
It fascinates me! Then again,
God alone knows the answers
to the things I consider. Along
life's road I continue, knowing
in the end, I will return to Him.
Sept. 26, 2021 for the Crossroads Contest of Kim Rodrigues
He writes to me in curly cues painting
fractals on pressed paper made of rice.
Shreds of simple stalks are beaten to
bare the smoothness of his script.
We have not known each other long
but we have known each other since
man first made fire, the poet and his
muse. His presentation fascinates
with swirls of brush or indian ink
he strokes, both deep and long,
with pleasant pressure most often.
His words though highbrow smack
of pent passions, watering palates
and earthy scents. The wanting so sweet
no reality could fill the expanse, the
oceans of prose, the mountains which
jut provocatively, daring, inviting, the cleats
of man, use pinion and hammer triumphantly
upon the bounty of breast, the thigh of night
the whimper of dawn. Poet preen for your muse
Caress the unsullied parchment whiteness
in the hollow of my neck.
First Published in Pyrokinection May 2013
Shadows are searching
My footprints nowhere
May be I am dreaming
The dream of somewhere.
Let's count with me till ten
The dream of a writer,
Imagination of a pen
I know quite curious you are
Well, try to listen me please
pretty good audience you are.
Ok Let's start with a simple name
Where regret ,without a single pain
Are we all still dreaming,
The dream of richy flame
Preaching for every single game
Still marathon has an end
But Laugh buddies
We are same with new claim of blame
I know each one has a collar white
Washed twice looking shiny bright
But what about the black spots
Where no one looks nor even stops
Are they are not the part of plain
Or they are simply the trash of rain
Oh sorry , I forgot
That Black spots still has a vain
Looking in to the dream
Something really fascinates me
May be it's a rush or fear of morning
A morning where no birds are chirping
Nor even a single tree is still whirling
The grandeur of doomy annoyed
Are we are building the development
Or the development building the void
Sitting on chair no one knows the fear
The sounds of death that no one can hear
Does the peace lost his identity or its name
Or the blood flowing just for the sake of fame
But
The clocked has clicked , your time is over
Please wake up the beautiful morning is still sober
Have a tea ,Dont worry for a change
Alas , the writer is still dreaming till death ,waiting for change.
LIKE A RIVER
I’ve always been captivated by water…from the raindrops that parachute out of the clouds…to the ocean and the sea…but it’s the relationship between a river and time that has always fascinated me.
It’s like I’m floating on a river of time
that sometimes seems to move slowly and other times to race…
but despite my illusions to the contrary moves forward at a slow and steady pace.
It’s a river that keeps moving whether I am sleeping or awake…
flowing from my past into my present and my future with every move I make.
Life on the river of time is lived in moments…
ephemeral, fleeting and sweet…
each present moment is the intersection of where my past and future meet.
Each present moment is a catalyst…
it’s where my hopes and dreams come from…
joining my past…made up of all those present moments I’ve left behind…
and my future…all those present moments yet to come.
I imagine that’s what fascinates me…
and why I feel so much affection….
for the inextricable bond between
the river and time connection.
Reminding me as I ride this river…
if I cherish every present moment…
knowing they’re here only for a short while…
I can look back on my past with joy…
and look to my future with a smile.
January 13 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Genesis 37-39
Key Verse – Genesis 39:23 … The LORD was with him, and that which he did, the LORD made it to prosper.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY PROSPERITY SOURCE
Lord God, You are my prosperity Source…
… Who feeds me with Your satisfaction
Thank You for fixing my life by Your sanctification
While filling me with Your peace-jubilation
Indeed fulfilling my prayer request and supplication
Lord God, You are my prosperity Source…
… Who fires me with Your uprightness-action
Thank You for framing my soul by Your reigning position
While fortifying me with Your mighty function
Indeed filtering me against pride’s destruction.
Lord God, You are my prosperity Source…
… Who finds me to abide in Your caring compassion
Thank You for forgiving my sins with Your deliverance-restoration
While fetching me by Your contentment’s instruction
Indeed fellowshipping with me midst Your inspiration.
Lord God, You are my prosperity Source…
… Who fits me within Your loving preservation
Thank You for fighting my arrogance to practice sincere submission
While facing me against my stubbornness with Your purification
Indeed freeing my rebellious attitude by Your rebuke’s unction.
Lord God, You are my prosperity Source...
... Who forms me well as Your new creation
Thank You for focusing my discernment toward Your vision
While fostering me by Your righteousness-transformation
Indeed flooding upon me Your mercy to comfort me in my desperation.
Lord God, You are my prosperity Source…
… Who fattens me with Your nutritious provision
Thank You for furthering my service by Your grace-driven commission
While fencing me around Your blessings’ favourable progression
Indeed fastening me in Your holiness to overcome wicked perversion.
Lord God, You are my prosperity Source…
… Who fascinates me with Your assured redemption
Thank You for fueling my faith for eternal fruits of spiritual production
While forbidding me to flee from worthlessness-caused frustration
Indeed furnishing me fulfillment-completion by Your omnipotent perfection.
January 13, 2023
I dare to hope and dream,
Of flowers that never fade
Of splendid and exotic creatures
All living in perfect harmony.
I dream of tranquil earthly paradise,
A keen euphoric garden of Eden,
Created by my one and true Lord.
Alas that man sinned and now
The garden of Eden is closed.
So let us together embark upon a journey,
In earnest search and ardent expectation
Of peace and love and blissful pleasure.
Let us travel down a mighty river
In a small pirogue, winding its way
Along the fern lined banks
Admiring the Cyprus and the tall pine trees.
The river turns into a valley,
Where mighty willows weep and dip
Their lower branches in the fresh icy stream.
All around, we smell the scent of flowers,
Butterflies with gossamer wings
Flit untiringly from bloom to bloom
While insects seem to have composed
A lively concert of their own.
We hear the music of the song birds,
Especially the multicolored martin pescador,
Finches practicing their fine tunes
to serenade the attractive female mate.
We spy warblers, sparrows, and orioles
Dancing from branch to branch
Or birds of prey soaring over the ancient firs
Trying to catch some unsuspecting fish
That swims beneath the calm surface
Of a smooth and tranquil lake.
Such magic moments mesmerize our senses,
As we witness the birth of day.
We find ecstasy in Our Lord's creations.
His wondrous hand enhances nature,
Fascinates our spirit with uninhibited joy
Expanding the joyous hope for all humanity.