Long Firmed Poems
Long Firmed Poems. Below are the most popular long Firmed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Firmed poems by poem length and keyword.
Players in the stadium
Patient as waiting soldiers
Seek stirring to signify
Attack artillery emboldened
Provisions are messages
Loaded with fresh opening
Responses rapidly fired
Lonely's ease encroaching
Place plus time is firmed
Balaclava covered burgler
Creeps comically around corners
Salivating, smiling, eager
Tally the touches, gripped tap
Slithered fingers, swimming fish
Sock threaded leeches reach thighs
Standard restraint abolished
Meddled with moods hang resplendent
Sexy ceremony elevates
Podium of passion captures
Camera's fleeting forever embrace
31st July
Third or First
Bronze Gold high
she wrote
that she
confirmed me
meaning her
flight
i knew
because
we con
firmed
each
other
it seems
dinosaur
ages ago
before
the supposed
comet hit
wiping out
exsistance
even while
they were
digesting
suggesting
suddenly so
violently i can't
even breath
while trying to
write this but
i'm a bit of
a survivalist
but my poetry
only exists
because
of her
and
so she
becomes
more then just
a lightning strike
but the rubbing of
wood
against
flesh get
ting a spark
to at least start
a flame
where as
she has not
but i have not
shaved pubicly
(spell check tried
to correct and
suggest that
perhaps i
meant
publicly)
but i'm not
into exposing
myself unless it
is with her poetry
Form:
At the end
of the river's exhausted reach
where swamp firmed
into solid ground, there was a place
the locals used as a tip.
Broken, worn out stuff
from clean outs, hoarded
household effects finally let go,
garage junk
and the discarded leftovers
from deceased estates
were dumped there.
The place was a goldmine for boys
on the hunt for soapbox wheels
and parts or anything
that could be used to build
wonders blueprinted
on raging minds. Pipes bent
into chopper handlebars
to lend lift to a boring bike, fit outs
for tree houses, defenses for forts,
the frames for boats and airplanes
that were born in hope
but would never float or fly
beyond a backyard.
The thrill was in the making.
When the council closed the tip
and moved it miles away,
it was as if a vital organ
in the neighborhood soul had been
taken out. Boys were deprived
of the lifeblood and source
of their making. For some time,
groups would ride their bikes there
and pause before an empty space
and stare. They had no words
for their grief. Slowly, the hole
healed over though something
inside had been lost. The bounty
that was once provided by the tip
was replaced by shiny things
bought brand new from shops.
Our journey is long, so be strong,
our resolve firmed by the Om gong,
that thus thinning out the ego,
divine aligned we do no wrong.
Let love laced be the seeds we sow,
seeing God in our fiercest foe,
poised as awareness self-aware,
free from desires, our thought flow slow.
Once with the vibrant void we pair
and ego cravings we outstare,
starved of attention, it soon dies,
light of Self shines, naked and bare.
We see the truth with our own eyes,
reality mind cannot size,
completion beyond space and time,
transcendence beyond scripture’s lies.
One with oneness, we hear love’s chime,
heartbeat of God, a sublime rhyme,
a golden globe, in which we merge,
that higher peaks we may then climb.
HEAL THY SELF O WOUNDED AFRICA
(no to XENOPHOBIA).
Wake up a voice shouted
You slept like a pregnant woman
While the drum beat of my assagil sounds like trumpet
With fear and deep chill I listened
The ghost of mighty black warrior standing in shiver
As I face the Great Zulu warrior lost in fear
I saw him Shaka cry to the members of Mambers the great Gods of Africa
There before him stands the Mighty Nile in disbelief
With the Niger filled with bloods disagrees to stay calm
The Senegal and the Congo revolted with flood
The orange and the Limpopo grumble and cried as the sky shared their pains with continuous rain pour.
O you failed cried d Zambezi as she invades her neighbors with flood
A knock on my door I heard a voice shout
Speak out for Africa
It is I Kwameh Nkrumah speaking
This is a sacrilegious act echoed the Mighty Zik
When the house is not in order the cockroaches becomes violent
Cried out the anguish voice of Awolowo
From afar I saw a running giant coming with the force of a chariot
Then I heard a voice so mighty was it that the visitors chased it with fear
He a mighty figure decorated and protected by glory of stars
Stood there is burning eyes of anger
Cover in the black glasses with general pride
As curious as a questionnaire
I ventured in to the glorious illusionary scene
Standing before my trembling eyes was The General Abacha in his full stature
Like a Ligtening spark the mighty figure bent his head in shame
As I looked to behold who thou art
There before me I saw The Mighty Mandela in tears of betray
Weep no more thou wounded soul
The thunderous voice of King Sailaise shouted
In council with the great Ghaddafi as furious as
Idi Amin
Sankara frowned like a disgraced old man
While the ghost of Seda Sengho felt it lost its victories like Anthonio lost all his titles
In schock I turned as a firmed hand gently parted my hand
It was a mighty spirit with two heads
It is the heads of the great secretaries
Achebe and Giwa
Handing me a pen a paper
Written on it
Heal thyself O Africa before yesterday bleed to death.
A Brian Strand Premiere No 1224 Poetry Contest, Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Written: June 20, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Zealous
reflections
wrest my heart
humble
pitapatting
Honed
toward my ears
A thrum
glides
alone
Into a
scene
within
finger
tipped
firmed
curved
notes
Seeking each chord
of tempting harmony played
intimately in heartbeats among
the rivulets of a tempo step
Everything is felt in music
This happens as if holding
onto each note of my own life
Feeling harmonic vibrations
in deep resonating moods
of cool evenings on the patio
Crackling embers at a campfire
Voices recite songs held as would
become a tradition of simpler times of
childhood friendships grew together
Held as if we could hold onto moments
of hopes, of loves, of dreams. The stars
seemed to fall only as we looked away
Gained as one humble guitar absorbs
a night sky of improvised melodies
Each harmony found by instinct
by touch, by invisible sight
**********************
On Day One God created the Heavens and the Earth
On Day Two He firmed up the sky
On Day Three to dry land He gave birth
On day Four He created the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars we navigate by
On Day Five He created all life in the water, all the fish in the sea
On Day Six He created life on land: birds, animals, humans -- Adam and Eve
What He created next was for all life on Earth, especially for you and me
A Day of Perfect Rest, the Crown Jewel of Creation, A Day for all Eternity
So, what did He do on that Holiest of Holies, the Sabbath Day?
Why, He rested from all of His creative labors, that's plain to see
Instructing humankind to do the same, to glorify and praise Him
To bring Heaven and Earth in sync for a day, in glorious harmony
Entry in "What Did God Do on the Seventh Day" contest
Sponsored by: Curtis Moorman
POETRY IS OUR NAUTURE N'
STRIDE,(LIFE..) TO LET GO!!
EACH PEN STROKES A UNIQUE
*POWER* VIBRANTLY BLASTED
COULOR: EN~SYNCED WORDS,
JUST DIFFRENTLY EX*
PRESSED..(IMAGINABLE!!)
WE STAND ON FIRMED LAND;
FULL OF LOVE N' NOT HATE;
WE PULE N' LAUGH, BEING
SERIOUS OR JOKE AROUND:
WE'RE EQUALLY ABANDONED,
BUT AGAIN PICKED~UP BY A LOVING
HANDED STRANGER IN
STRENGTH.... AGAINST INK
SPILLED... WHERE WE ARE TRUSTED
IN LOYALTY AND GATHERED
THOUGHTS TO EXPLORE THIS
WORLD WE ONCE DESPIZED; A
MAXIMUM EXPLOSSION OF JOY
N' CHEER, ALL SEEMS SO
CLEAR ON LOVE OF THE SOUP
(*FAM..*) ATMOSPHERE*
UNITED*TING!!! INKS PENNED;
AS ONE...COME JOIN US...
THIS IS A TRIBUTE TO ALL
SOUP (*FAM..*)
WRITEN BY: SWEETHEART
CARMA 06-19-12
INSPIRED BY:
BRITTANY MaD InK CalDwELl;
PACE, G "INK-U-SCRIPT" AND;
MARLON (THE SCRIBE)...
THANK YOU DEAR POETS!!!!