Long Focus Poems
Long Focus Poems. Below are the most popular long Focus by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Focus poems by poem length and keyword.
I can recall another lifetime, one where I could fly
Gazing down upon the earth, moonlight glinting in my eye
A king among the stars with a piercing call that could terrify
I was once a mighty falcon, a raptor of the sky
Soaring majestically brought exhilarating thrills
Cruising deep valleys and magnificent hills
Preparation for the hunt was how I honed my skills
The sweat and toil all worthwhile when the blood finally spills
I patiently stalked my prize below; death was now en route
My mind made up instantly, my focus absolute
Diving at breakneck speed was my key attribute
Blazing through the clouds, the Reaper’s in hot pursuit
The thrill of the hunt, an innate yearning since ancient Babylon
My prey chirped sweet melodies until he was sprung upon
I clasped him tightly within my powerful talon
His life force swiftly dispatched as his soul journeyed to Avalon
Moments after my car crash, I was overcome with visions so clear
Echoes of a life I lived before I ended up here
Memories flooded back, and down my cheek rolled a welcome tear
For this alternate existence, I once held so dear
A past life as a falcon engulfed my human brain
Vast skies were my territory, my conquered domain
I embraced the rasping wind and a deluge of torrential rain
This incredible revelation has numbed all my agonising pain
I was once quite different from the man that lies here now
I've awoken from this human dream, and I just can’t comprehend how
Fortunately, my injuries are just too severe, so it’s time to take a bow
As I long to return to those blue skies once more, that’s my dying vow
Self can focus on self so easy,
please take "me" out of that mentality to feel your heart beating,
please don't let "me" regress,
for then dear Lord, it puts "me" back to the test,
in selfless giving while all along our hearts benefit,
so is there something here we've all seemed to miss?,
the purpose you gave us for the seat of our emotions,
you have placed within us to put us in motion,
is it really self we're concentrated on?,
for the seat of emotions plays a huge part as to what really goes on,
so then in our hearts remain,
whether easily seen or strictly hidden the motive the same,
sometimes we don't even catch ourselves selfish,
until someone else "shows" all along in our hearts what's been hidden,
so than what's the difference if i choose not to pretend,
for the love to change my heart in the end,
and is that so selfish when you want the exact same thing?,
shown in sync just by different means,
God placing us together to see the reflections,
it signifies more than we can imagine,
to bring us to himself every time,
in every moment wanting us to open our eyes.
When we don't say anything
and everythings alright
I look to my lover
and will gladly take
her hand
I come out on the lovers
sides meaningful
equation: furthermore
maybe in a little while
I don't remember
exactly when when
But I know how
you got a second
a moment to spare
might I say I love you
and tell you I care
Unsure of what to say
didn't know what to do
mooping around
I thought we were through
But ah kiss from your lips
a smile as an expression
a change to normalesy
a move in the right direction
now I know the words
put'em al together
changing out yesterday
focus on tommorrow
what else can I say
no myths of sorrow
jst lover doing what lovers do
aint no lack f confience
it's me and you
At seventy-seven years-plus, my noggin is a barren landscape
that once sprouted a thick crop of chestnut brown hair.
And now, some scattered strands of grey
still sprout here and there, above a fussy hedge
edging my closely cropped terrain.
Proceed further down, and you'll find
a weathered forehead with long furrows
running in parallel horizontal worry lines.
And if you keep descending,
you will come across two bushy brows
resembling wiry bristles in disarray.
Below them, you'll find two, slightly out-of-focus eyes;
bright brown orbs, afloat in a sea of white.
Keep following the sloping curvature of my plump face,
and you'll come across a rugged,
slightly broken schnoz of a nose;
jutting out, in a hawkish sort of way.
Continue down, and you'll see a pair of crinkled lips,
wearing a smug, satisfied smile.
Lower down, you'll find a jutting chin,
dappled with stumps of yesterday's stubble.
Now, step back, and let my features sink in
as they take shape in your thoughts,
and your imagination crafts my image within your mind.
I heard that those French girls were raunchy as hell
I thought I’d go find me a young mademoiselle
I’m no work of art and I’m well past my best
But I’ve had a wash and I’ve changed my string vest
My mate said the best girls stand out in the crowds
But then he said I’ve got my head in the clouds
He said you’re so old that you might make them shriek
I said I’d be happy to just get a peek
So I bought a Kodak, its lens was quite long
To steal me a shot of a girl in a thong
My mate said that’s freaky, in fact it’s perverted
I knew he was right, I was quite disconcerted
But ladies and me, well it has been a while
A quick flash of flesh would sure make me smile
I had an idea: I would head for the sky
And focus on windows of buildings nearby
My plan didn’t work and I took not one shot
Although I had thought that I’d get quite a lot
So I’m heading home where I’ll have a cold shower
And never return to that damned eye-full tower.
I catch my breath and I hold my composure,
My head fights my heart to keep it together,
The sensitivity of my soul dangerously meets,
The connection of feeling, empathic defeat,
The dreams start to come, the survival guide,
In the darkness, showing me light,
Unfolding before my very eyes,
Bits of pieces and truth from the other side,
Hiding under a blanket through love and despair,
Trusting God's love through silent prayer,
Share my heart, yet the focus is not on me,
There Is intent behind opening up to be,
A commoness of lessons, teaching us everyday,
Showing us how to open up to love and communicate,
Shackles of judgement, self doubt, and pride,
Silence our hearts to heal and recognize,
Do I talk too much about my experiences or share too much of me,
While you sit in silence just listening,
Who is the more willing to give love the chance,
Who isn't scared of man's judgement, who opens their heart to share,
For that very moment God connects his church,
Holding them together to see all of loves worth,
To strike the enemy through the authority God gave us,
To gain loving relationships, and change the comformist,
In an atmosphere so willing to judge if views aren't the same,
Open your heart, let it bring you to change,
There Is deepness in the one willing to beat their soul,
They may need more compassion and love to be shown,
The enemy may have tricked them to make them believe,
That they were not worth the effort to try or see,
And if it has ruined them up to the point of silence,
It will stop them from sharing their heart's to bind us,
For as a whole we become stronger, as soon as we bare,
And have patience to listen, but also takes the initiative to share,
You are braver than you think, stronger than you know,
When you lay down your defenses, that's when love grows!
Craziest time in virulent living
when protest is black and white to erase
invisibility
when fueled rage overtakes urban pockets of beauty
when the ash from smoking crater anger sears
public spaces
or an insurrection unachors reason
Shifting focus from a virus, hot iron of deep confusion
Pandemic cruelty to the unprotected masses
Indelible marks of worry
Frayed threads of crazy in trenches of stand off
A nightly-news world reduced to sound bites
Are we on the right side of change?
A turnstile that thuds constraints and fury
Hard scrabble life, a gnarly tale
No sleeping bag comfort
in living, oxygen thin
with nothing left to conceal
Hope sustained in the roulette wheel of history
that breakdown is temporal
that an impasse will give voice to the suffering
that things strained heal
Even the iron-cold ground boasts transformation.
Poem revised: October 9, 2021
I listen because Sound is not dead, but living.
I listen because I hear life through a variety of sounds. Sounds shout, cry, sing, soothe, provoke, and sometimes even pause.
I don’t listen when sound is compromised, influenced, beaten, killed (to crush silence), overwhelming or even artificial. Sound is meant to be pure; it is meant to be thoughtless.
I listen to sounds that are powerful, but are inherently ignored.
I listen for those who don’t know how to listen. I listen for those who were taught to take pride in their work, that they forget to leave time to take pride in their world. Sound speaks to everybody, but very few listen. We are told to focus; focus on our work, ourselves, and on others. We are distracted by this ambient truth.
I listen to sounds in silence.
I listen because of Mother Nature’s cooing, soft sounds guiding my mind to wander and to be set free. Her pure, natural voice is a comfort for all those who take the time to listen. She is the creator of all natural sounds, residing in every living thing. She whispers and yells; she cries and laughs; she never stops speaking. Mother nature is found is silence.
I listen to sounds that are unaffected by us; the sound of an infant’s heartbeat; the sound of a mourning dove’s song; the sound of a river rushing. Pure sounds are everywhere, but are clouded by us.
I listen, but not always succeed. I am conquered by the artificial, industrial world. My mind is blurred by construction, the radio, buzzing lights, television, and all things that are fabricated by us. It is unnaturally natural to do so, and we can’t take the whole blame. The world has been transitioned into artificial headphones, muting the natural world, and barricading our ears. However, if we detach ourselves, we can listen, listen to pure sounds.
I listen because I heard the truth, and the truth has spoken to me.
Because sounds never stop; they never stop crying; they never stop laughing; they never stop speaking.
Sound will never die.
Rest and watch
Bird focus sharp;
Wonder excites
~~~~~~~~~
Moon aura bright
Sip warm tea;
Festive moon cakes
~~~~~~~~~
Mid-autumn air
Lakeside pavilion;
Moon beams dance
~~~~~~~~~
Mythic moon rise
Bamboo pines quiver;
Breeze hums softly
~~~~~~~~~
Festive splendour
Moon gate breeze;
Laughter beyond
~~~~~~~~~
Sheer magic
Moon through boughs;
Crystal night lake
~~~~~~~~~
Midnight moon streaks
Skyline romance;
Mid-autumn escapade
~~~~~~~~~
Crystal choice
Poignant poise;
Vibrant voice
~~~~~~~~~
Seize then
Know when;
Wise trend
~~~~~~~~~
Late night
Stillness spreads;
Beauty sleep
~~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
15 September 2016
Singapore
In the wake, in the rubble,
I search for who I am.
After pain’s trouble,
how well can I stand?
I’ve long sat in debris
with no clue for company.
Please, hope, talk to me
so faith might walk with me.
I need out of my head,
away from all not said.
Tired of my feelings,
I search for their ceiling,
but I only bleed ~
nothing ceases my bleed.
In the wake, in the rubble,
I search for a new face.
After so much waste
how should I craft her ???
There’s need to shape
my chipped remains
into designs aligned
to best serve my
remaining lifetime.
Shall I mold pain into wisdom,
focus my eyes truth aware
or
keep this scorched heart form
with eyes colored forlorn?