Long Finite Poems

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


Premium Member Paradox On Lose To Gain

Exposed to Scriptures of truth declaration
My heart is settled with God’s assertion
midst paradoxes I cannot question
as they uphold faith-fortification.

Among such is “Lose to gain” proclamation---
choosing wondrous eternal direction
over ephemeral intersection:
heaven’s glory, or hell’s condemnation?

Gaining affirms triumphant transaction
amidst exercise of wise discretion
no losses for great optimization
ensuring wealth of maximized function. 

So… what is lost in gaining possession
especially when done with one’s best action?
this is no enigmatic situation
in the light of prioritization.

I praise God for divine confrontation
exposing my spiritual condition
impoverished with worthless position
as I profit in my vain production…

By the Holy Ghost’s illumination
finite mind can find sublime solution:
losing soul* brings perilous destruction  
when gaining whole world propels decision.

Thus, my spirit opts for earthly loss’ fruition
while vanquishing carnal domination
since Christ enables reconciliation
granting me everlasting life’s redemption.

*Mark 8:36 For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

February 25, 2022
3rd place, "This or That, Vol 10: "Theme Chosen: Irreconcilable Paradox
Poetry Writing Contest"
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 3/2/2022.
Form: Monorhyme


Consciousness Outside of the Body

A hush — as if the Atmosphere
Forgot its mortal Name —
And I — slipped out my finite Frame
As Dawn forsakes its Flame —

No Pulse — but some tremendous Calm
Enrobed the trembling Air —
And I beheld my “Being” — stand
Apart — yet everywhere —

The Earth — a dwindling lantern —
My Thoughts — unmoored — afloat —
They touched an unseen Architecture
The Soul keeps in its Throat —

A Corridor of Quiet — rose —
Unmapped by Flesh or Fear —
And something — tender — beckoned me —
As if it longed me near —

But then — a tether — delicate —
Drew me to Breath again —
And stitched my Spirit to its Clay
With one familiar Pain —

I carried back the Certainty
No Scholar can confine —
That Life is but the Narrow Door
To Rooms of the Divine --
Form: Lyric

Premium Member JESUS CHRIST-More Than a Super Hero

More than a superhero, certainly surpassing the best conquering knight
JESUS CHRIST*, my SAVIOR LORD is beyond utmost to highlight
Without HIM, I am nothing; yet He enhances me as struggling neophyte
HE completes my functionality's fullest by His eternal foresight!

Joy-Source midst salvation’s delight
Eternal life’s Lamp, always bright
Strength for great faith’s heavenly height
Upholder during divine fight
Soul’s fortress-Guard … all day and night.

Carrier of sins’ grievous blight
Hope-Giver along prayer-plight
Resurrection against death’s might 
Imparter of pure wisdom’s light
Sanctifier with pardon-white
Teacher-Mentor of truth and right.

Sustainer of spiritual sight
Assurance-Granter against fright
Vanquishes Devil’s fatal bite
Instructs toward service aright
Omnipotent; acts great to cite
Redeemer: Scriptures did indite.

Leader, exemplary upright
Omniscient, showing guilt’s termite
Restorer; His heart does invite
Driver toward holiness’ flight!

The more that I draw nigh to HIM sweetly, sans guilt spite
I'm sufficed and satisfied triumphantly by His love, never finite
With gratefulness' praise, I worship Him gloriously with heart contrite
Serving Him while ministering to others earnestly... as I work and write.

*John 14:6 Jesus saith…, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

A Dramatic Monologue Incorporating the forms Acrostic, Name and Monorhyme.

February 2, 2019
Edited on September 6, 2022
2nd place, "Superhero or Supervillain" Poetry Writing Premier Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Liguori; judged on 9/21/2022.

Talking About What Matters

Beauty is spoken of excluding beauty.
        We speak of poetry, apart from poetry.
       Total beauty does not exist, but do not accept ...
       Beauty is made of complementing parts
       in infinity ...
       Poetry does not express all poetry ...
       Poetry is incomplete, but it is poetry ...
       Smaller poetry is factor of the larger.
       Real talk.
       Real talk as it's
       only ... as there was only one
       dimension...
       True, it is what is established,
       and what is established may not
       be an expression of truth.
       Everything is said ... everyone knows
       of everything !
       And everyone knows that in fact
       know nothing ...
       All that is known is little ...
       Little, not everything ...
       Beauty,
       poetry,
       true ... everything for us
       It is finite.
       But it's not for the universe
       infinite ... and expanding ...
Form: Prose

Premium Member 39 Countdown

39 minutes to draw a line 
For asymmetrical life of mine. 

Against logic and common sense laws
My life’s odds graphed empirical flaws. 

It spread out in many shapes and slopes, 
Varied ‘twixt melancholy and hopes.  

Yet the ratio of joy trumps the rest
In the course of life’s composite test. 

I count on that for the greatest good 
My path for the greatest number stood. 

My constant values were absolute, 
So were the angles, right or acute. 

I figured life’s factors more or less, 
In patterns, congruent with success. 

Formula for Happy - highest stake, 
Played in proportions of give and take. 

Around Love my destiny revolved, 
The algorithm of my life - solved!

I bid adieu, sentiments apart, 
My palate’s last wish from a la carte: 

Steak dinner with a glass of fine wine
In finite timeline of 39!
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Miraculous Secrets

In space, universal static sings its 
icy songs to celestial bodies; 
their romance helps to keep the balance; 
life’s turning…turning…

In finite depths of black holes, 
are secrets that earth life can only imagine.

When souls in night-flight, 
take their tours; genius is born.  
The classrooms of infinity, 
stock atomic memory with volumes; 
a cosmic library.

Genious, like prophecy, is never recognized or 
validated in its own time.  
Einstein’s mind, spanned eons of knowledge 
on its journeys; a mind of depths unfathomed by many.

Tesla’s receptivity reached into infinity’s abyss 
and witnessed God in action,  
Lessons learned but, suppressed by the greed 
of ignorance and fools, were buried with him.

The variations of education, 
are not limited to earth’s known facts 
and if the human species ever opened its collective mind; miracles would be a daily event.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Sojourne

Sojourne

A few moments ago she floated in the womb still firmly attached to the

chord of nurture listening to heartbeats of comfort attached to couplets of repose

Rhymed and rhythmed in resounding simplicity negating dissonance still on 
                                     
                                horizons

she splashed within the nick of time ticked at her own pace made light in sight of

a wondrous world of a few lullabies some fleeting memories clarions and clarity

a couple of major and minor scales weighing up and down in the music of being

Not long after a few tones later an elegy after she mused that life is finite and too 
                                               
                                                           fugacious

We Dream of Rain Iii

We dream of rain... 
And the mystery of the gun
We bold hold and driven apart 
Kill the king when lovers depart
We dream of rain and the dark arts
Upon an endless sea, across an infinite A’merican waste…

A White House in the middle of Prussia a red square, fifty-two sons of the revolution, hundred of souls of the damned, we gather together to war on finite sands. We dream of rain under the desert sun, we hold the past, behold the last, one of these, we are the past, we look through to you. We are the last, we bold hold during the setting sun. We are the last. 

We drive engines of mechanical wyrms, steam demons that burrow through. Deep inside sand on the infinite sea. We are the first, last, and always, nine while nine hold the throne. Bitter are the ones of your enemy’s cast. We sing this song of corruption, we sing empire down. Kill the king while lovers watch. The empire is in throws, the Mericans are bold and hold the line in the sand. A black house of a distant earth. 

A white dress, the Empress of Nothing, nothing to hold. We are the last and always. We watch the red planet rise over your shoulder, we see the embers smolder. We are the kindred of the Last. Sing empire down. When lovers depart. They kill the beast in the sands where the steam of its heart bleeds. The Leviathan and of the sand and sea. Sing out our hearts, demand! Eurasia in turmoil the Blades of the One. 

The Land of the Gun. Hangs heaven in the hands of the killers, as lovers depart. Law of the Land, the rule of the Gun. The law of man. We dream of rain in a righteous land. One with the Gun.  Under a righteous Son. Someday, someday, someday, Dominion! I'm living in films for the sake of Prussia. 

A Kino-Runner for the Dre-Karr, And the fifty-two daughters of the revolution is bound for treason, Turn the gold to chrome, a Gift... with nothing to lose, Stuck this side of Memphis with you in a mobile home, sing: 

Mother Prussia, Mother Prussia. The Way of the Gun. The Rights of the West. We dream of rain. And the mystery of the gun. We bold hold and driven apart 
Kill the king when lovers depart. 

We dream of rain and the setting sun. Flood lands and driven apart…

Reprise III

An ode to the sisters who show mercy…

Premium Member This Game

Heavenly bodies, heavenly beings; 
living entities unfettered by gravity.
Spinning marbles in a universal box.

God’s favorite game, 
knuckle busters are smacking planets, 
right and left and the debris reforms…
new…marbles…pee-wee dust.

Cat-eyes glow as they sail apart; agate smacks!
The “Big Bang” was…
God taking his first shot.

Heavenly bodies, heavenly beings; 
God makes no distinction between his children, 
as we humans prefer to believe.

It’s been said that, “reality is an illusion”; 
perhaps we are only marbles in the game; 
like our sibling planets.

Lost in a spinning swirl of colors; 
we roll blindly through life.  
Puries and steelies;
clacking out cosmic crescendos.

God knuckles down and shoots; 
bluesy-Earth smacks a trilite, 
Mars and chips a new crater.

Another steely sends alley Jupiter, 
smacking into its own moon and a whirling 
Io slams grasshopper Neptune from behind.

In parallel universes, we meet ourselves; 
repeating mistakes, we never win; 
a hazard of being…lesser gods.

God’s game is multi-universal 
and human perception, 
terribly finite.

The great hand, histing;
fires…Earth gets another tour of the Milky Way.
As heavenly body-clacks resound; 
all heavenly beings sustain injuries, 
that will change them.  
No one stays the same.

Perigee to apogee; 
Earth centers herself for the next attack.
Orion and his daughters laugh and applaud, 
as the last shots, miss them.
While the gibbous cheeks of dragon Sun;
Spit fire-flares in self defense.

Singed Saturn loses another precious ring.
It doesn’t matter in this game of marbles;
God plays and wins, every time; 
then collects us all, 
for another game.

Premium Member Under the mantle of night, embroidered with hidden symbols and untold secrets

Under the mantle of night, embroidered with hidden symbols and untold secrets,
The stars reflect infinite desires, like eternal jewels in the abyss,
With finite pages and ephemeral moments of intense passion,
But the thirst for reading and the ardor of loving remain infinite,
They surpass even death, our fears, and our ephemeral dreams of peace.
In the mysterious libraries of the soul, each book is a secret temple,
A finite universe, but the magic of words opens doors to infinity,
Chapters and phrases ignite sparks of wisdom, occult and profound,
Navigating with paper boats through the vast oceans of esoteric knowledge.
Bodily passions, like falling stars, briefly illuminate our universe,
Encounters veiled in halos of intensity and unspoken desires,
But the desire to love burns like a sacred fire, an eternally hidden volcano,
Living beyond the limits of time and space, touching the mystery of the infinite.
Beyond the peaceful flow of time, our eternal desires remain,
Echoes of our hopes blooming in a world of ethereal light,
In the glacial silence of the night, each dream rises like alchemical smoke,
Leaving indestructible traces of desires that will never perish, beyond reality.
Under the delicate cover of enchanting books and embraced bodies,
We find the essence of eternity, endless desires that transcend space and time,
In each turned page and in every thrill of a magical encounter,
There is a poetry of infinity, a mystical dance that unites and separates different worlds.
We read and love, planting seeds of eternity in the garden of our existence,
Each story becomes an incantation of the soul, each moment of passion a divine verse,
In a universe of desires that surpass the boundaries of death and time,
We live the magic of infinity, in the eternal lights of the stars and in the sacred written pages.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

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