Long Fluid Poems
Long Fluid Poems. Below are the most popular long Fluid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fluid poems by poem length and keyword.
This viral curse that wears a crown.
that takes man's breath and lays him down,
that shuts his door,
his church, his town.
Heaven did not sling this bolt,
but patient waits for earth to halt,
and turn its eyes towards the hills,
towards the skies from where help comes,
from where help came when deeper curse was laid,
laid just on one man's frame.
That breath was also given up,
that chest compressed and pierced 'til fluid flowed
when head was bowed, then body bound
and laid in rich man’s tomb.
This rightful wearer of the crown still waits
to make this world his own.
Yet not with fearful covert crown,
but thorny crown for all to see,
high lifted on his mercy tree,
our saving mercy tree.
When Yang-strong Egos
like a great FirstWorld nation,
or an ecologically robust multiculturing community,
or a theologically resilient
good faith
polypathic sacred communion,
or a democratically healthy
cooperatively owned
and polyculturally managed corporation,
regenerately restore DNA-structured 8-fold universes
transubstantiating fertile infinity
slowly becomes resonantly wealthy,
Then Earth's nutritional YinFlow stage-theories
reiterate polypathic cognitive integrity
of original paradigmatic ZeroZone reweaving
for regenerating healthy blood within as wealthy words without,
yin as robustly effluent yang
RightSoul as LeftNature
convexly re-associating secular investments re-invite sacred natural history
inducting teachers and preachers, yet often deductively homeless
bicameral Right, lonely, seeing inter-relating ZeroSouls
concavely sacred eco-powering Ego's potential belonging
among reweaving ancient childhood companions,
cognitive re-creating co-operating bilateral images
re-connecting thoughts with WiseElder animistic voices
composed of memory's healthy v pathological
trusted v violating
homeless ZeroZone feelings
emerging from long lost, graciously laughing
singing
dancing
being
doing WiseElder choices
ReLearning non-sectarian life
as resilient journey
reconnecting sacred love's non-violent bottom-line standards
inviting eternal homeless fluid moments
infinite ultra-nonviolet
in-between Ego's self-conscious TaoTime
co-arising lonely co-incident identities
co-empathic
co-present
Yet mutually blind without emotive belonging,
post-millennial WinWin experience
inside/outside
sacred v secular bilaterally lonely
divine nurture v human nature, voiceless faith
in EarthTribe's not not thriving grace.
No brush will ever render true,
The fluid transparent aqueous blue,
Nor words do justice to describe,
The ebb and flow of rushing tide,
Barely stirring golden dust,
Beneath pellucid glassy thrust;
As I lie within this flow,
Each nerve caressed from head to toe,
My arms outstretched towards the sun,
The sky, the sea and I are one.
I shift my frame from high to deep,
Propel myself with eager feet,
Into the realm of Neptune's lair,
Without a thought, without a care.
I know the Sea-god will not mind,
If I intrude his watery bind;
I come not to invade his reign,
He fears no loss, and knows my gain.
Slowly, into liquid light I sink,
A sudden play of colours blink,
Forming patterns I cannot hold,
Green, vermillion, brown and gold;
Dazzling brightly on the dark
Pillars that now mark,
Lines of a lost citadel,
Laid to sleep inside a bell,
Of silent time, caressed by soft
Currents, which carry aloft
My helpless frame to scare;
Burst the blue membrane, gasp air.
That’s what she calls herself
who boasts of the longest reigning monarchy in the world,
producing a short of one to twenty Nobel Prize winners
as only two colleagues beat her to global wealth.
Her buttocks sit on the red hot coal
of the deadly pacific ring of fire.
Her cultural and innovative influence,
already clinging on global corners with their webs.
The sushi, sashimi and the tempura;
the karate, judo, sumo and ninjutsa;
the Toyota, Sony, Nintendo, canon and Panasonic,
all testaments of her hands of influence.
She’s a home to over six thousand pieces
resting on large waters to stay as one.
Three-fourth of her landscape is forests or mountains
and so industrious to make possible the Asimo.
Her short poems have been globally popularized
with almost every of her citizens literate,
while some of her streets still remain nameless.
She must have acquired lots of black cats
to reach such a height of civilization and power;
Beauty comes with teeth not quite regular,
visiting the vending machine to satisfy ones need for a beer,
possessing the largest trade center for fish in the world
but publicly blowing the nose and tearing off a gift’s wrap
converts her cool countenance into a bad mood.
She has centers for drinking and taking alcoholic shots
so also for enjoying the fluid of lactation for adults.
Ironing a shirt with a speed of light
is her special craft and yardstick for a serious competition.
Population of pets outweigh that of children;
her appetite for Basashi and expenses for the melons
invite controversy to any form of human reasoning.
Immigration then is highly regulated
to give continuity to such traditional and economic history.
The crimson fluid drops,
Pumped from his wounded heart.
From His side, palms, and feet,
The blood crawls on the cross,
And clears the scars of sin;
And frees the heart from guilt.
On the cross, his arms open wide,
Inviting me for a warm hug.
But the face is marred, badly bruised;
His body sweats blood and water.
His hands ache, hanging from the wood;
And the wood firm, stuck to the earth.
His form is gone. Scarring!
Scared by the pain; the peace
On a face gripped by love.
Though love is harsh on him,
But saves me from the death.
Strange to love; or be loved!
Shame and pain he bears for the world
As he’s nailed for sin on the cross.
God, the father's pleased with his death,
For by it, his true love will blaze;
And the world might find in Jesus,
A friend that gave his all for all.
(John 15:13)
Copyright © 2014
Her eyes look wide and clear around
Cast there are shadows of the fog igniting night
As she sees an image on a wet neglected window pane
It holds her in contempt
Cold, damp, with sweat, shivering in fright
And nothing can save her from herself
Or the 32 fluid ounces of rain still pounding down
Outside, trying to get in is sanity
To get at her with anger in the minute
Separated in the thinnest infinity
Seen through dark matter madness
In her mind glass shatters from the past to now
Windows shake, her hands as well
Like unnerved paranoids trying to get free
Waiting for the very air to attack she sits
Like a burnt out fuse in pain
Cowering on the growling floor
Nothing but a soul can save her
Something she could never have
Or purchase at the store for currency
As the storm advances
Every rain drop must be counted
Saved for a day she can't remember
Crawling on the floor
She slithers to the window pane
Every second must be saved
Electrified and drowning in her tears
That evaporate like mist in to the void
Her mind erases every thought into the glass
Turns inside out reflecting
Enveloped by fear the rain remains
When the door bell rings
Nothing will be the same
12/15/14 entry for Carol Eastman's "Best of 2014" - Poetry Contest
I am not the name I'm called in this life
nor am I what you think you see
I am something that existed way before
the world you know came to be
I am the seed of the tree we know as the father
that created both heaven & the hells
I am a child of a mother that gave birth
to a spirit clothed in an earthly shell
I am the embodiment of what is known as eternity
so, I'll exist forevermore
I am forever a sailor on the seas of fluid life
searching for brighter sandy shores
I am what's seen when eyes are closed for the night
as you search for this lifes newest dream
I am a dream that you're having & know it not
for you're lost in the world that is seen
I am literally everything you've ever known
mirroring hidden versions of yourself
I am seen in & by your eyes everywhere
as everything is a reflection of ourselves
POTD : 12.2.26
First Placing: Standard Contest
Sponsor : JCB Brul
Daisies could not bloom bound by debt of Time
we tried to unknot ropes tied across dimes
by deeds proceeding of their own accord
songs not written by either of us unfree
as white petals fell dropping one by one
Hours of tasting, smelling, touching lost
on battlefields, in barracks when away
you had to haste with epaulettes torn
I rooted a chasing escape, sweat dripping
tied to wheat fields watching babes chaste
Bald eagles soared above winelands stolen
gulls and albatross escorted galleon laden with longing ~ South to North, winds gushing
your wishes driven by wrenching penalties
seals then oceans carried lips and knees
Your breastbone turned from an unborn world
too pregnant in fluid womb of clocks chiming
fled you from aching loss of Love’s caged raging
stoic in withholding fist of sacrifice, away you got
drowning throbbing Heart in my own bleeding
_________________________________
torrents of tears flowed
when he saw a sea dragon
beached dehydrated
for he knows that it like him
could only shed tears on land
the tears were salty
welling from bag of sea brine
in the ocean's blood
he harbored in his body
as fluid to bathe his cells
he needed to cry
but till now tears would not spill
weeping on ebb tide
to wash moribund eyes clean
and inhale with a fresh breath
he fights the current
gripping on to refusals
yet the water wins
the dragon prowls in the foam
its searing breath flares fear
one tear another
fell soft on scalded shadow
fell on dragon's eyes
sending the sand grit flying
washing the stall clean of grime
fear sinks in the tide
form of the trial changes
relief opens gate
as ocean consumes his past
dragon wings have unfolded
tears were the pivot
to beat the challenge
breaking resistance
setting sails on favored wind
on the course past the dragon
She sent me a lol on wattsapp
Please pass the ketchup
Mothership gliding in silent space
Umbilically us padded in shiny foil
Her face deflected in a fish bowl
Leaves only guessing about her thoughts
Lets dock Lets talk
Little ingots and tiny orbs
Suspended in the fluid of my sight
Just us against the world
Through the crackling and the static noise
Wincing hard to hear her voice
Her words a soggy sandwich
Pleading as my waning battery
But my head wouldnt dock with my heart
And somehow we became unwed
She was my torment, I was her duty
Her virtue was the softer call
And that became her beauty
Ive become much softer now
But it doesnt work for me at all
A completed work a naughty boy
Indifferent now to watch me fall