Long Firm Poems
Long Firm Poems. Below are the most popular long Firm by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Firm poems by poem length and keyword.
I wish I could touch the sky,
So high and high and high.
I wish I could capture the moon,
Taut and firm in my room.
I wish I could sleep on a cloud,
And sing loud and loud and loud.
I wish I could take a star,
For a joyous ride in my car.
I wish I could flow like a lake,
Forever and ever without a break.
I wish I could merrily fly,
Like a monsoon dragonfly.
I wish I could stand firm and still,
On the waters flowing through the hill.
I wish I could deftly drag,
An ocean into my bag.
I wish I could crawl like a snake,
And roll onto a small stake.
I wish I could stand on a leaf,
And make a sigh of relief.
I wish I could walk in the air,
Tip-toeing with extreme care.
I wish I could pour like rain,
To quench the Earth's thirst again and again.
I wish I could become a fairy,
And turn a desert into a prairie.
I wish I could live in such a place,
Forever; to rejoice and embrace.
Beneath the deep silence of reason hides a breathless house,
The remains of oblivion, where dreams die like shadows at evening.
My soul weaves its infinity with countless shortcomings,
Heavy shadows of darkness, left in thoughts not ennobled.
The field of the mind unfolds in unseen places among the grass,
And the old fence of stubbornness dresses in the foam of dreams,
The meaning of "important" is drowned in waters of forgetfulness,
It doesn't write its story in the book of new and bright horizons.
To cast off the yoke of reason leads to realms where the possible sings,
Brotherhood with the impossible, where the dream challenges beauty.
One spitting venom and fumes, the other blinded by impotence,
Their prison, like Love and Fate, has the eternal dance as its essence.
They harbored a purpose, sustaining the world's nature with hope,
A thread of glimmer almost seen, an echo in the storm's din,
Their cornerstone has melted like a dream in daylight.
In the murmur of a "what if," the heart beats dying - now a desolate message.
But the gates show themselves at the end of the road, when "it can't be" is not spoken,
To undiscovered worlds chains fall, through mists light is brought.
In the deepest darkness, where "no" stood firm as a king,
There burns are transformed, completing the cold of reason.
And you dig through bones when words ring unseen in the wind,
Bearing deep the knife that separates the real from a thought.
On the frail edge stretching between lucid and mystic,
That is the promised road, the path to the terrible one-of-a-kind.
Throw behind the barriers of proud superfluous knowledge,
Fly forward, the chained wing cannot be of use.
Free your being, let the spirit overcome the unnatural,
Let the world see, let the flame rise unstoppable, pure and ablaze.
In this journey, defying the limits that were,
You are a dancer in the carnival of nothingness, where everything has a meaningful reply.
Discover the world born from the abandonment of constraints,
Where genius and madness meet, in a waltz of transcendences.
Flame of life flutters, tide wanes sans reason,
Death drops shutters whilst life sinks in a pit,
The day looks dull, dark clouds when hides the sun,
Night gets moonless, cloudy and stars are no more lit.
Life's breathless breasts hide failing heart beneath
As if to mask a universal truth,
Creeping unseen, Death gnaws with gnarling teeth,
And still, the dying life dreams of her days of youth
And returns home carrying no suitcase
And leaves bare hands, all unfinished hopes hemmed,
As loveliest words get frozen on face,
And as some rarest poems may just die un-penned.
As some of life-long goals remain un-scored,
As one-sided love remains mute, wordless,
As life’s set sailed to float across un-oared
Lo, it suffers a new sentence to sail clueless,
Death cometh, two un-dotted times to dot,
To bring together two random journeys,
Sepulchral silence falls, church bells toll not,
As the air thickens and freezes, as doth chilled breeze.
And ye Life, like kids’ paper boats collapse,
Mere puddle it takes to soak it and sink,
Not a great storm to tilt as paper snaps,
Death hassles thee O Life to kiss thy own last brink.
Much maligned Death, thou art no enemy
Of Life— a darling friend of so many,
Ye walk with Life, so light thy levity,
And yet, for such largesse, ye get not a penny!
To thee Death, the morrow’s but next moment,
Thine future tied on a tenuous thread,
Ye live half-shut eyed, instant to instant,
And still, the last goodbye of thine is such a dread!
So, Death, feel thou firm as my fervent friend
Not to forget, we’re a Siamese twain,
Be my morrow till my life’s very end,
Together die shall we as one bound by a chain.
_______________________
Ode (musings) | 03.05.2012 | life, death
Note: the fourth line of each quatrain is two-syllable longer (a hexameter, with apology to Alexander Pope*).
* A needless alexandrine ends the song,
That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
- from his poem An Essay on Criticism
nestled in the lee of a thick flint wall
guys taut, grappling to hold firm
our canvas castle shook and shuddered
flimsy but somehow reassuring respite
as mountain giants prowled through the night
inside, hunched low over his stove
blue flames licking around the pan
Pops whistled a calming retort;
his gourmet dish to warm us up
bangers ‘n beans in a tin camp cup
we ate and we watched through the half closed flap
as lightning struck nearby -
so, while thunder grumbled at the drumming rain
(still in coats, with hats on heads)
we stretched out on our blow-up beds
father and son fishing had been the plan
on the shores of the lake that weekend
but different memories, caught by different lines
were shaped and set in that storm
as Pops read me ‘The Hobbit,’ all cosy snug and warm
SOLICE
Your years may be less
But your spirit's aged more
You carry the weak
And cry for the poor
Your convictions run deep
And your heart's filled with love
An angel of strength
a gift from above
You stand by your morals
Feet firm on the land
You'll not condem others
Just reach out your hand
Like a tree rooted deep
You weather the storm
Another like you
Has not yet been born
You touch the lives
Of those who cross
through your path
Give courage to those
In need of a laugh
Each time i've fallen
You've picked me back up
Helped patch my heart
when it needed to mend
I love you for always
My brother, my friend
A-s the end is drawing near,
L-et your heart be proud ever;
A-llow your life to shine,
D-ay twenty-sixth October.
I-t's time not to be ashamed,
N-or turn away from fold;
O-bey the Lord Almighty, valuing His word like gold.
M-any reasons to rejoice,
E-ternal life is on top;
N-ext is heavenly bliss,
D-on't cease, never stop.
I-t's time not to be afraid
O-f scorn and mockery;
L-et's stay solid and united
A-lthough despised by the enemy.
B-e brave and be strong
A-gainst the tribulation;
R-emain firm and steadfast
B-ecause of your conviction.
A-s the night is about over,
C-ompletely trust with no doubt;
I-t's time to faithfully follow,
N-o reason to worry
A-bout.
As taut breezes whip on a chilled evening,
I find her standing upright---relentless firm
murmuring vexedly which drain all exchanges
beyond amity. My warm glances try to uncover
how the pain of disorder all began :
Yet how unbending, even obstinate her will,
all those grates of words so stern that I and kin
endure the torment of our lacerated feelings:
O dear sister, it is hard to reconcile
your two opposing worlds--
the quarrel of your manic storms at its peak
while tangy air twirls outside the garden
like a hearth's need for clarity…we keep
our tones hushed and wait, wait until
a clear energy releases this implacable mind
from blinding yet another evening of reality:
Twilight draws near…she slips into oblivion,
peaceful, not knowing this part
of her masked entity holds her enslaved..again.
7/20/2019
John Hamilton’s Intransigence Contest
Italian octaves
Who is this Jesus? He is perfection.
He is the Key, yet He's also the Door,
ask to gain access; enter and explore.
Reflect on His names; find their connection.
How can He be both Beginning and End?
He's Lawgiver, Faithful Witness, and Judge;
also an Advocate who will not budge,
royal Sovereign, He is my loyal Friend.
He's Author of Life as well as the Word;
He's Cornerstone, Capstone and Solid Rock.
His still small Voice calmly commands His flock;
Can the Lamb of God be our Good Shepherd?
Root of David yet Seed of Abraham.
The Sacrifice who wears the High Priest's shoes,
Servant who submits; Master who subdues,
a Righteous Branch, He is the Great I Am.
He's both Gift and Giver of Salvation,
He is the Son of Man and Son of God,
divinely human without fake façade.
He is Builder, and our Firm Foundation.
Reflect on His names; find their connection.
Ask and gain access; enter to explore.
He is the Key, yet He's also the Door,
who is this Jesus? He is perfection.
April 26, 2021
contest: Tell Me, Who Do YOU Say I Am
sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
She is the Flower Amongst the Flowers
Like her fellow kind she is graceful as her petals reach for the morning sunlight
Soft and gentle in the cool morning breeze she sways
In that moment there is calmness that belies her truth
For she sheds the morning dew drops like the tears of someone you hold dear
Her long slender neck carries the heavy load which grows with time and maturity
If she had lips one would need to be cautious for she is laced with thorns
Thorns that can stab you whether wittingly or unwittingly and make you bleed
The cuts sharp and piercing and not something to be taken lightly
They will leave you in pain like a heart that has been torn
Her beginning is like most from a small acorn of a seed she begins to sprout
Only a glimpse of what she will ultimately become shows in those early days
But one day her long stem like the legs of a shapely woman will be firm and supple
Time will pass and she will outgrow many of her family
She will be more popular and hold a special place
When selected for meaning in people’s lives
Like the moods of a woman her colors are varied
And carry with them the potential for an array of emotions
The deepness of meaning representing the well of life
Sometimes half full and sometimes half empty but always refreshing
Each color part of a spectrum and the bounty of feelings it can bring
The folds of her blossom are complicated and intricate yet delicate
From a distance she stands out to your eye, her beauty catching your breath
Her shapeliness recognizable on sight like a familiar friend, relative or lover
She is the flower among flowers
She is the rose
Andreas Simic©
Yield to sure grace the soul and heart,
Opt to live cheer with peace of mind;
Urge primes true face to hurl deep start.
Joy feeds you here as space now finds,
Abide in time the pulse that woos;
Note then calm choice where dreams surge forth,
Embrace clear rhymes in all you do.
Place succinct voice as health goes north,
Embark and see the precious now;
Rise to the thrill of lovely truth,
Keep fond beauty where love endows;
Impress your will with mystic proof,
Niche a firm style in that clear sight,
Set thought worthwhile with sacred light.
Leon Enriquez
24 August 2015
Singapore