Long Freest Poems
Long Freest Poems. Below are the most popular long Freest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Freest poems by poem length and keyword.
Even in the brightest day the darkest shadow can hide
Even in the calmest sea lurks the overpowering tide
Even in the lightest wind a storm is just a breath away
Even in the greatest love a heart can die away
Even in the hardest stone a diamond can be found
Even in the freest world we know we are still bound
Even in the greatest fear we can always win the day
Even in the greatest love a heart can die away
Even in the clearest mind were still blinded by the haze
Even in the greatest answer the question still does amaze
Even knowing our destiny we still will walk that way
Even in the greatest love a heart can die away
seeking solace under the sun
seeking refuge from your wrath
knowing that i have to go back home
under the sun i think of nothing
under the sun i go back to something
knowing that i have to go back home
it is here that i am in my freest state
it is here that i can most easily be me
knowing that i have to go home
i enjoy the feeling of just doing nothing
i enjoy the feeling of just saying nothing
knowing that i have to go back home
getting a reality check from the rapidly rising moon
getting a reality check that it is no longer noon
knowing that it is time to go back home
driving in circles around what used to be a peaceful paradise
driving in circles around what is now just an eyesore of a torture chamber
knowing that the solace i now seek everyday is more than a dozen prayers away
I’m a nice person
I’d help someone if they fell on the street
I’ve always given directions when asked
Of course I smile at strangers, it’s just polite
What do you mean a hospital was bombed today?
Anyway, my favourite artist just released a new album
I know she pollutes with her private jet but… she’s a feminist
I just don’t like to make waves, I’m a nice person
What do you mean kids were dragged from their homes and zip tied?
And I’ve heard we’re supposed to boycott or something
But I just can’t live without my coffee
And I don’t really understand why anyway
It was on the news but I turned it off, it’s just too sad
I have to protect my peace
What do you mean 72,000 confirmed dead in two years?
What do you mean 7,000 books banned in the world’s freest country?
What do you mean they’ve taken women’s ability to speak?
…
I woke up today and my fingers were wrinkled
My joints ached, my hair greyed
Faces sat below me, children, grandchildren
They asked what I did
How I helped
I don’t like to make waves
I’m a nice person
TAGORE ON
I just happened reading Rabindranath Tagore’ s poem called “The Gardener.”
The Gardener XL: An Unbelieving Smile
“……the dark rim of your eyes.
Then smile as archly as you like
when I come again.”
I am a Wheel, my blood flows inward
Of its spokes.
I am a Star,
My blood dissolves
In its Middle.
The Middle is without Time.
Here is where I am born.
Here the Poet letting Go:
Pollen, Sac, Belly
To more giving
Yes—
The weeks go on
And I contemplate the Gardener
Basing on cumulative
Bending, drawing in
Giving Magnificence
Back to the Universe
Stranded between Reason and Awe.
Tagore brings the World
In as Word/song.
With Black and white
His work became tight
As the freest gift
In specially the Light.
-Daniel de Cullá
y o u, the band-aid to my bleeding wound,
the life buoy in my ocean,
the answer to my prayers,
my shelter from the storm
the spark to my flame;
you fuel my fire
and passion!
my muse?
that's
y o u!.
what else
can I say?
I'd rather be
your willing captive
--everlastingly yours--
than the freest bird there is!
I wish to be at your mercy
my magnificent force of light, y o u.
Love has been narrated in novels ,
set to music in songs and expressed in poems with various rhymes:
remembering its glories and lamenting its tragedies;
but this is the ode I've written for those true life's true heroes,
not about someone I've loved and lost,
to cherish the miracle of every breath!
And many have laid down their lives,
so that I can live free and remember the battles they fiercely fought;
and who wouldn't shout, in gratefulness, to the blazing skies?
Brave ones resting in your decorated graves,
God won't forget you when another rainbow reflects
all the beautiful colors of your flags waving, at sun-down,
over the damp grass where the little daises are blooming;
and I have brought the same flowers
that you liked to give to your darlings:
to thank you for your bravery on the incendiary fields...
thinking less of you and more of your countrymen!
Dauntless ones, you gave up your precious lives
and gone to foreign lands to be vigilant and tough,
to allow your children to live their dream
in the freest land that Humankind has ever known;
and how many envy what they hold in their palms?
They are as precious as glaring diamonds,
and as beautiful as the brilliantly rising dawn;
and be sure that they will defend their freedom at any cost...
and fight for it by marching with grace and esteem!
And how can an inspirited poet narrate all the great and sad events...
if not through the sincere voice of his heart-felt verses?
I will not invoke a muse, but a living God to inspire me;
and I won't add or take anything away for the sake of honesty!
Take heart, sorrowful writer and make the words flow with spontaneity;
honor those true life's heroes with your infallible intellect:
to eternally preserve their tenacious and noble memory...
when others repress it and lay it to an unguarded rest!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
the Golden Gate, she sang to me
in a darkened whispered voice
El Niño crying like a spoiled child
of all the sad souls brought to her
with desperation’s choice
that flew like angels
from her transoms, wild
oh dare I hearken to that song
that pressed to tympans, sweet
a secret that commanded I impart
the answer I had sought so long
of darkened dreams, complete
and one last sleep that
plunged the ocean’s heart?
it was a day of days - the sort
that put most days to shame
as Sol daubed on the sea her Sunday best
as though to woo me and to court
my coursings for her flame
with all the sparkling
jewels upon her breast
to put to rest these passioned pains
midst such a gloried breeze
would be to deign those somber voices true
but life and loves and loss had brought
this madman to his knees
my last adventure
meant for bounding blue
so there atop the stanchions stood
one man of heartened breaths
a smile as broad as sun upon the waves
and though the bridge had sung of
sweeter dreams and grander deaths
the raw breath-stealing beauty
of that wondrous glistened sea -
the thoughts of one hereafter
where a soul could wander free
and all the joys that filled me up
like that gold, tender sea
made that the best of
blue Pacific graves …
so off I flew -
the freest of her slaves.
Love is as big as the galaxy,
No way can it be contained
Sickness and death
Cannot ebb its breath
Love's bonds mend broken hearts
Or can rip them all apart
Love's bigger than the human race
It shines in every place
In the loyal stance of a precious pet
Whose long passing hurts us even yet
Love holds the freest creatures
Whose wings led them on great quests
Flying from the far Northeast
To the warmth of the Southwest,
Love holds them to a nest
Love is bigger, love is greater of a power
Than a star
It can be seen in a purpose
No matter where we are
Created by a loving hand
A power of Light at His command
Written in poem, Painted in skies
On epitaphs and lullabies
Freedom
Degradation, demoralization
Doom, destruction, decadence
And the masses still cry ’Freedom!’
None of this even makes sense
Free to live out every feeling
Every thought and every dream
This will better life and people
Well at least, so it may seem
We should be the freest spirits
With no one to answer to
Life will give us utmost pleasure
Dare not say this isn’t true
Let us revel in denial
Let us be and let us live
No explaining, no correction
Do not force us to forgive
Tell us not of repercussions
We are living by the day
We won’t hear of consequences
If all it does is cause dismay
Freedom is what we are craving
And we get it, each his own
Whether it restricts another
Empathy will not be shown
And the more we long for freedom
The more we all become depraved
Mind the shackles of this freedom
For it wants us all enslaved.
Wendy Nipas
Why is it, this heart of mine
Filled with such joy, Feeling so fine
Can feel such overwhelming pain
I feel that joy can't come again?
That this same heart can feel
Such Sorrow
And sometimes cannot
See Tomorrow
This same old heart can feel
Such love
Or as light and free as the
Freest dove
This heart feels oh so many ways
Changing with the changing days
That it is really plain to see
This heart is life, this heart is me
This poem was written in about 1987
penned in my old poetry journal