Long Fertility Poems

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


Premium Member The Mourning of Mother Earth

You, unfeeling creatures
Who call yourselves human,

You, fleeting bubbles of reason,
Accidental parasites of time,

You, filthy microbes of cancer,
Ephemera of invincible eternity,

You, who try to fill your vanity
With abominable crimes,

You, insensible butchers of animals,
Notorious destroyers of pastures,

You, contaminators of oceans,
Deleterious polluters of rivers,

You, menacing beings of harmony,
Transgressors of universal laws,

You, 
Who have deliberately put me through 
The tormenting agony of dying
By 
Strewing your treacherous dark web of
Your unworthy ambitions, all over my face,
Shadowing my generous fertility and
Rendering me sterile,

Behold,
For the time has come for you
To feel my wrath and my fury
Boiling lava over you
To flow every day,

Kneel, 
Your tiny mortal beings
In front of the immortal cosmos,  
For the shiny heavy sword of
Universal justice,
Avenger of transgressions, guardians of
The eternal laws,
Over your thoughtless heads to fall
With vengeance and rage
Decapitating most of you and
Those who would survive
Shall feel the torturing pain in 
Their hearts
For 
Uncountable years!*




© Demetrios Trifiatis
      20 March 2020


* This poem I wrote in 1985 in Montreal, Canada, when, as a co-founder of a peace movement, I was making efforts to raise consciousness to save Mother Earth.  "THE MOURNING OF MOTHER EARTH." THIS IS A STERN WARNING TO ALL OF US WHO DESTROY HER: REMEMBER, NOT MUCH TIME IS LEFT TO SAVE OUR PLANET AND OURSELVES!


Premium Member Goddess Diana Aka Artemis

She moved like no other two-legged creature.
The wolves kept their howls on reserve, watching.
She was stealthy, determined, made her way quickly.
Reeds and grasses whispered her name in low breaths.

It is the Goddess Diana, a cattail shared with Luna moth.
Luna moth had never seen such a beauty; she was exquisite.
Daughter of Jupiter, oak said to acorn. Acorn agreed to be stepped on.
Diana stepped around instead, careful to nurture nature’s smallest.

Mushroom fairies came out to dance in the moon light, 
Feeling safe now that Artemis had arrived; Greek roots you know.
We call her Diana, elves and brownies said. Name did not matter.
She was patron saint of hunting, moon, nature and fertility,
And she was magnificent!

Premium Member Growing Multicultural Comfort

Tolerance of differences
quietly lies between passive-aggressive anger,
then fear,
then active hatred,
And all the way on up to enchanting positive awe,
and then ecstatically cooperative wonder,
and then sacred multiculturing,
creolizing,
transubstantiating communion
of whole synergetic multilateral systems.

Neutral heuristic faith in Golden Rules and Ratios--
despite past warring differences,
chaotic oppositions of power
and complex appositions of potential integrity--
Lies between blind LeftBrain degenerating faith
then apathy
lapsing toward manic paranoia,
And all the way back to RightBrain with newer LeftBrain co-enchantment,
cooperatively ecstatic wonder
and then sacred Eastern nondual communion
with active Western secular non-violent ecological relationships
promoting global DNA nutrition
as communal multicultural wealth
through cooperative WinWin economic/ecological harmonies--
efficiencies short through long-term positive
with effective whole-system eco-relationality.

Gospel faith
is substance of relational things yet unseen
yet also actively hoped for,
advocated with new nutritional eyes and solidarity ears.
Good multiculturing faith is not violent bad monoculturing faithlessness,
nor blind and at-war faith
because healthy positive hopes
values
norms
ethical nurturing systems of life, not death,
are not blind
but inherited healthy v pathological sight

Back through all past DNA fertility strings
of historically regenerative
polypathic love,
grace,
cooperatively-owned EarthKarma,

EarthTribe's future green communion,
EarthJustice of past unseen ultra-nonviolent communication choices,
personal and politically not so entirely blind,
longing to restore good and tasty 2020 democratic trust.

Premium Member Earth

Two people cannot see the same way but they can teach
One another their ways. One gives up body and soul
To follow the flow of the historical woman until
He can close his eyes and glide through mountains effortlessly.
He gives up earth and he gives up air, he gives up being touched
But he forgets to give up desiring to be touched. Then
One day the sun is hot or the moon is full, he desires
Uncontrollably to be touched and flies smack
Into the mountain, never comes out the other side.

You live to prepare yourself to die. You leave behind
A wreck of strewn projects or a few icy pearls.
Incredibly you leave your voice behind saying
Over and over again the same words. You leave
Memories of yourself behind as pictures in the heads
Of people who wish you weren't dead or hadn't been alive.
They wash the pictorial body, shave it, comb your hair
The way they liked it best, cut a little here, add a little there,
Then easily, easily and kindly forget you.

Two hundred years later the wall crumbled and burned.
The ashes were spread logically across the plain,
A mathematical formula could describe the distribution.
The ashes were like seeds and from them
A thousand higher walls were made. It was lovely
To see those walls breathing imperceptibly
Shifting their glances so slowly as to go unnoticed
Behaving as if they were dead.

If I breathe, they breathe. If they are ash, so am I.
Having tried to separate myself and failed
I donate my body to science. The wall needs me
To breathe and hear. It gets my ears and lungs.
Trees need me to cast their night spells.
Are they asleep or are they dancing
A primitive fertility dance in the forest?
I choose trees because they can watch everything
From the distance of longevity.
To them I donate my soul.

Everything should be made of earth.
Earthen walls, earthen homes, earthen bodies, earthen sex.
Nothing should be made of air. Earth should inhale
And exhale air. Air should whip and caress earth.
Air should dry it out and crumble it. Earth.
Water should wet it and dissolve it. Earth.
What is the function of fire? Fire makes earth permanent
And then fire makes earth into air. Water
Makes earth into mud. Mud makes earth into homes.
Homes make earth into walls. Walls make the earth breathe.
Breathing makes the earth crumble. Crumbling
Makes the earth seed.
Form: Verse

Elixir of Live

The receptive force and reflecting availability,
regardless of how one try to conceal it altogether.
Visible forms that nature holds in eloquence,
applicable circumstance and its reference.
Perception and darker musing values testament,
when the darker hour speaks of decadent.
Oh great tomb of mysterious realm by choice,
chamber of the unmistakable voice.
The art of being awaken to the flow of eternal present,
surrender to the experience of unconditional essence.
Luminous distillation of spiritual dew,
abundant fertility becomes the magical view.
Ever expanding breath of celestial space,
reaching the garden of serene palpable place.
Giving up the persona by letting go of the mask,
recognizing without senses by stilling all mental task.
Soothing the love existence soul as secret pleasure,
making all obscurities the threshold of simple measure. 
The spectroscope reveals the colors by element in purity,
recognizes integrated particles in clarity.
The maternity at the firmament in change of gaining,
solution of heart in purest form claiming.
With the freshness in clear force and determination,
new sacred space and end of fears by affirmation.
In this living dream all rational reasons must deem, 
every tear provides a little rainbow spectrum,
that sustains the ultimate dream.
Form: Ballade


Premium Member Between the rise of dawn and the cleared dark of twilight

Between the rise of dawn and the cleared dark of twilight,
Lies a hidden season of dream, when the indulged daystar makes its nest.
Between the warmth of summer and the chill of harsh life,
Spring strings its arches of renewal and hope.
Between the unequivocal black-and-white fabric,
Mysteriously flows a grey veil of ambivalence.
Between the babel of noise and sacred silence,
Stretches a space for retreat, an island of calm.
Between birth and the fragility of age,
The season of fertility revives, in rhythms of mystery.
Between the maturity's dusk and the spilled perfume of childhood,
A season of innocence opens, a gate to the primal Eden.
Between the sin that erases and the sweet grace that heals,
Rises a time for decision, a choice between two lights.
Between vision and the pressing solid reality,
A time for prayer breaks through, a heart's murmur that prays.
Between the trembling doubt and the marriage of wonders with the world's eyes,
Lies the season of perseverance of faith, boundaries unfound.
Between love and the spiteful indifference of hate,
Awakens a predilection for mercy, a season of your warmth.
Between the despair of death and the triumphant birth of life,
Stands the clarity of heaven, a season of light, wandering fragrant.
Between the lost garden of Eden and the second coming, a celebration of resurrection,
Stands the full timbre of anticipation, wilting surreptitious expectations.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Reflections on Poetry in Tanka

thought as poetry 
past present future surreal 
pure expressions cure 
deific communing in time
softly breath stitches rare rhymes 

stillness turns wheel feel
creating cosmic garlands
recognise lyrics 
emotions eclectic ebbs
awakens colourful dreams

mirror reflections
nouns verbs adjectives adverbs 
ether air worded 
fire water earth stanzas 
carries stories converses 

stimulates seconds 
fathoms then embraces faith 
promotes perfect peace 
forms galore eastern western 
feeding fertility flames

intrinsic to life
advances awareness awed
forge fraternity 
transmuting darkness to art
wisdom deepens liberty 


         _______________________
PLACED 4Th : STANDARD CONTEST
ON TANKA STRINGS
Form: Tanka

Don'T Beso Like That

"To gain his attraction, she'd dress as the love goddess
Solodubous, than she have him to produce a child
to be talk about in the world." "These ways would
teach all women how to treat their men" this spoke
Meanus of ladiuss, at the great mount of Munius,
scholars believe that Musia and Canterious were
overhearers of this conversation between the two God's.
They used their ways to do the same things.
It widely believed that Duetious believed in the God Canterious
she allowed Canterous to cast his demons into her, then she
became him, and had his offspring. This was in The land of Balletier,
were Drummious sat to speak of these things. They amplified these words
in expressions to have others listen, their prosperity came from the differences of new people,,
who they put against those who had less than them, or those who
Cantrixious had tricked into being single. 
     In Balletious, men who carry saddles
as a sign of fertility, and on days were 
they would appease Canterious, they wore
 iron honed shoes, and would race across
 the desert, only saying,"Neigh, Neigh, Neigh !" 
If those men would attract a woman, groups of
there own would throw berries and seed's on their
with the "Sandles of  Tempo", "neigh, neigh, neigh!"
 they would say until, the woman who would have
of the Claroberry tree.
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Quality Time

Quantities of time feel nothing.
Calculating, accumulating and subtracting,
days and weeks,
months and years and decades
roll past our eyes and ears
our growing and shrinking stomachs
to leave their strong and weak-grooved rings
of satiation and emaciation

I only feel and remember qualities of EarthTime 
co-arising passions and co-gravitating pleasures
or dissonant dispassionate and painful reactions
of fear about time's future survivable qualities
anger about oppressive time's past conflicts
burning hot bright volcano hatreds
adrenaline flowing flashes
uncontrollable as suppressed bliss
only completely invested, immersed,
passionately engaged within a resiliently timeless
moment of deeply resonant quality

too seldom aware of Earth's intelligent co-present 
co-passionate 
co-binary sacred/organic fertility 
of divinely humane grace
eternally synergetic dancing 
through rationally measured quantities 
of merely mortal metric times.

Sacred qualities of time's regenerate evolutions
long to feel everything belonging once again together,
beyond a foggy lapse of co-empathic solidarity

ReLigiously re-membering our golden era 
co-relational peaceful qualities
richly feeding on Earth's matriarchal placentas
when all felt now-ly timeless
and originally right
feeling healthy

nurturing trusted truths
of loving kindness
feeling qualitatively good
and warm-full beauty filled.

Perhaps here lies our deeper measure 
of time's healthiest meaning-full quality,
economically cooperative
and politically synergetic
and ecologically co-relational
EarthMother organically breeding
and sacredly feeding ecotherapy

Deep dancing
while surface surfing 
through this timeless now 
of polypathic potential win/win consciousness

Qualitative feelings positive through negative
emerging from and for and through and in and on and over each now
submerging into past speciating
branching co-passion's pleasure impressed re-memories
and dispassion's painful suppressed memories

Trees of old strong-rooted felt re-ligion
qualitatively comparing
contrasting 
our original embryonic nurturing qualities
for richer eco-political sacred health
and less EarthMother dis-organic pathology
through this eternally regenerating now

quality of TaoTime's feeling peace-full
pronoia 
win/win ego/eco-conscious co-passion.

The Fig tree

Oh sweet fig of the night
The master has cursed your day light
You stand on the desert sand
Searching the whole night for me
While courage climb up your slender tree
I have met you somewhere in thin air
As your voice floats through the atmosphere
I can hear the mummers and whispers in the breeze
And the night shadows yearning after me
but the universe has carved out the center of the heavens
with a pick axe . a power saw and a garden fork
 and the birds watch from afar in amazement
But the fig tree would not bend
it stood there planted firmly in the earth
Absorbing the energy of the whole wide world
And I watch the night vigil marched solemnly
Through the desert town and the chip monk gather
around singing an elated  song in
 solitude for a twisted fig crown
What does fig taste like?
 Strawberry and date to wet my appetite
The taste is burnt out in the sun
And honey mixed with flowers and nuts
 is appealing but only the taste is revealing
If fertility was the gift of life I would not
have made so much sacrifice
ploughing the dry thirsty ground
upon which gravity is found and
the night keeps running after me
as I searched desperately for my fig tree
Abundance and sweetness waits patiently for me
I can feel the energy floating over the Galilee sea
And the olive sprouting all around greet the fig trees
at the edge of the sea with love and dignity
Something good is going to happen to me
 And heaven and earth will flourish again
When the lions are driven out of the den
The region will be fertile  and everyone
will have a new found friend 
and taste love, peace and joy again
 despair will be blown into the sea
And courage will penetrate the fig tree
Fig will spring up everywhere
And you will have much to eat and much to share
The contention will be over, and everyone will cross over
The fig will provide nourishment for soul and it will
Teach you how to be bold
You stand there looking at me
What do I have to do with thee?
I am going to Egypt and turkey
To look for my fig tree.
Form: Narrative

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