Long Gates Poems
Long Gates Poems. Below are the most popular long Gates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gates poems by poem length and keyword.
I hold three magic rocks in my hand.
Rolling them over and over and over.
Leaving this reality behind, far behind.
Scars, and broken promises from impotent beings who do not have love, and respect.
A derange fantasy of God, and his power.
To rid of this deceit, and addiction.
False spoken words of truth, and grace.
Abandon the three magic rocks for it will not bring luck a voice says to me.
A loving soul will surrender at God's throne, and mercy.
To sing glory in the heaven on Judgement Day.
A march, and protest of victory over the enemy.
The saints will rise, and the sinners will fall.
The beautiful doves soaring in the sky, the golden gates will open, and God's unconditional love, and acceptance into his kingdom will reign, and be preserved forever.
The three magic rocks were not meant to adorned, and cherished, but to have a prosperous, and righteous life.
Zen Tango
Nothing could and should take command
If you think you need the punishment
Let love get the better you watch the light gun fire
Ahoy deep in the skallow of Todd
Your trip in the ethereal all murky with fog
Surprise the laughter makes us a believer of something different
Just fine like a good bottle of wine if it's free
Mafia black with a crimson glow
I couldn't talk where was my free will
Through jungles of monkeys who show you your path
Back from the swamps i'am sure i'll never turn back
Aware of the maybes and what if's and some highway of life
Wait one distracted minute after the other
When it takes over you got to run for cover
My best days of life taking on a challenge
My worse days of life simply caring
You see something that's not there
But the background was finely drawn, dogmatic intrepid oblique
I was sergeant stink I couldn't think the other way I could only think of keep this distraction until it sunk through my skin right to the bone
I did it all for to get that feeling so I could check the box
I am not a robot
Citizen Skin
It's you it's me It's all around us
It's Poisoned you with goodness
Significant to have a measure in your soul
Could this be freedom
The ignorance of denial the rejection of society
Man made comfort started with the shape of a rock
Expectation zero years fall memories never made
Except when you broke your own law
Abandon all hope those who pass through these gates
See what makes us great get pissed on everyday
What is obvious is oblivious what is honest is how you will be seen
Make the family work you can't go back
So no regrets no discount truth's no packages that are labeled
For your glory
Mostly labelled for your head to create a cost of your own free will
No sentimental regards to those smoking companies
To the Government who cashed in on addiction
The freedom to have no voice the freedom to live invisible
Look in front of you and tell me whats yours
All your life signed over to these whores
Shout as loud as you can people have tried
They purposely give you it for free.
Then wait and remove the carpet from your feet
Then freedom is worn on a soldiers
New pair of socks
Central Park looks Beautiful When you’re In Love
Central Park without the gates of heaven screens;
It’s heavenly, a poet daring to dream
Harps and golden crowns of evenly bliss paradise
Twilight, nylons and panels in the park;
Where Lover dreams come true with sparks;
Behold the beauty, behold a lover.
Poetic, artistic, romantic, trees and sky liners
Central Park the gates of heaven in clear view;
It’s heavenly yet powerful; Poets dreams
Cristal, Ruby, Diamond, Sapphire Pearl or gold
Or just chilling its tares amongst the weeds
Strolling or experiencing it’s where lovers meet;
Colorful hot air balloons circle the park
Bollywood again and again after dark
I am heaven and I am not welcome here now
and I know it will take some time until I am again
i'm unsure if my gates will ever open wide enough for you to slip through
though you can stare at them
locked
for as long as you please
even though it makes my mouth dry and my blood rush like rapids, running south
you can watch them glow in the dim light of my mother's living room
unsure if it's divinity or smooth slick along the bars
like black ice ready to toss a car to the wolves at a moments notice
on a school run
I wish I wasn't your very own girl
your kiss felt everywhere but my lips
your eyes burning through the same soft ready flesh to my tongue
hot, wet and heavy where it sits in my mouth
I have never see this heaven,
all I am to you
open your heart and show me if I am so very important, or at least let my cold hands scratch at the back door without reprimand
you've spread me thin like butter, soft and left on the side for too long
you've nailed me down with gentleness
and yet despite all this
my insides all out for you
the unnatural purity of the whole ordeal
your worship (the very worship that churns my insides and makes bile rise, sickly sweet in my throat)
i'm still unsure of who sits behind your eyes,
a man, a master
a dog tied to a street lamp shivering in the cold
snarling
desperate
hungry
Form:
A Frenchmen’s Hell Nothing More
David J Walker
No father
Please I pled
It was only a dream
Nothing more
About mesquit trees
Turning themselves into mustang ponies
Nothing more
Running wild and free on a drunkards horizon
A prairie’s floor
The fences strengthened
The three gates tightened
hanging
post to post to post
Nothing more
Now
About the horse’s corral
a few paces from the barn
You could see
It was only me
Painting curses in Spanish because I knew
The obscene verses Could be far worse
Because the Mustangs could read them
And laugh at my bad Spanish grammar
Still
They got the picture
Nothing more
to the story except
It’s why I stayed awake past midnight
And snapped the bullwhip ever so often
Cracking a warning into a southwest wind
Blowing warm its warning in naked numbness
Nothing more
Except, father
The mustangs might win the fight and send
The souls of our stallions into a Frenchmen’s Hell
falsely claiming the birthright of the foal
A bleak sight
In starlight
The dark night before
The next daylight slowly begins
Folding into a new beginning
Hiding the various meanings of freedom
demanding variant forms to consider
as if daybreak was the dawn
of another committee meeting
But father
In the dream, I become the thief in the night
Steeling a Mustang away from its herd
Calling it my own
He hates me and I know
he always will
He loves the way I ride like no other
as if in stride
With the wind and then
steal the will of the condemned
Sending us both to a Frenchmen’s hell
Just as well
Father
Just as well
Moving on is such a sweet affair
When the going seems harder and harder,
Yet the trail may be hard here and there
For those not seasoned in the faith.
I long for the pedestals of Lincoln and Donne
And Keats and Shaw and Dickens;
Such brim-full fame for rare deeds done
By a mortal from an improbable world.
How these shall be accomplished I little know
Yet the urge within still convinces me,
That I should stoically bear every misfortune’s blow
And trudge on through the iron gates of hell.
And whether in such strains the world believes
Or not, this lone soul shall move on till the crown receives.
Evolution
It’s a beautiful world…
It’s a beautiful world for us to behold.
Open your eyes; you are not yet cold.
You have only just begun.
You are yet to fall in love,
With the trees and the mountains and rivers so deep.
Evolution is calling;
Step back from the steep.
The mud is Lego, the leaves my roof.
Belief without proof.
The future,
Culture,
Soon…
Expand and multiply.
One day fly up into the sky.
Industrial sounds,
Seek to rise.
Now we stand a thousand feet tall,
We have become too lazy to walk.
We cease to go forward in an analogue world,
So digital becomes essential.
Zuckerberg stands on the shoulders of Gates,
The wealth is monumental.
Now money makes the world go around,
True love is a by-product; it is only rarely found.
We are self-aware, with pride, not care.
Kasparov moves his King into place;
We are still so unaware.
Three moves ahead, unseen as yet,
Will this be the end of all?
Time takes one thing, we can never just forget,
We live in a beautiful world.
We will rise against the machine;
We are all the rage, against the pain,
Rush humanity past a cybertronic defence.
It’s a beautiful world…today.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
Only lovers feel the pain
Smoke curtains blow
Blood on the wall dries
No one leaves tonight
He throws her out of his window
Who knew her bones were so brittle
She lands on her knees
Silent bleeding
But he is not a bad guy
He likes to test gravity
With other people’s bodies
Loud and dark
10,20 blows to the heart
Her blood breaks free
Soaking her insides
A butterfly on meth
Change is unstoppable
The rearranging of her organs
Those same old bones
Won’t stop breaking
No one hurts you in heaven
If only it existed
Within arms reach
The pearly gates open
Come Rest With Me
My Parents,
Bob and Thelma Darnell
R.I.P. 1998, 2000
God saw you getting weary,
He did what He thought best.
He put His arms around you and said,
come with Me and rest.
He opened up His Golden Gates,
on that sad day.
And with His arms around you,
you gently slipped away.
It broke our hearts to lose you,
you did not go alone.
A part of us went with you,
the day God called you home.
And with this poem, I write,
I bid you goodbye.
Rest in peace, my loving parents,
I'll see you on the other side.
Revised Edition 08/06/2021 1:24 AM (EST)
In this kingdom of fragmented gates,
I'm frustrated in being chained in a glass mansion.
The world is trying to change me,
forsaking my 'chess of life' into ruins.
I yearn to soar like an unconfined eagle,
but my talons are like frozen footsteps on glaciers.
My heart used to illuminate like the northern lights,
like a perfect portrait of a poetic sunset.
Now the unkind mind of humankind attempts to mould me,
tormenting the claws of my tiger spirit.
Upon a path of nomadic illusions,
spiritual delusions, struggle to salvage sunrise,
when the horizons are a blanket of black.
Crooning clouds resemble melancholic tones,
when twilight bleeds in burgundy blood clots.
I see seas of sorrow with an unstoppable ending,
when Satan's sighs summon a history of hurt.
His garnet eyes feel like thorns in peacock feathers,
silencing sentiments into a voiceless cocoon,
spiralling spicing moments into solitude, so I summon
my Goddess of Thunder.
The enigmatic voice of my queen of the night,
resonates in calming flawless frequencies.
Like art from abstracts of an architect,
we bathe in my pool of sentimental stars,
delicately dressed in dancing dandelions.
Each petal sparkling in a lake of rose quartz,
under a moon affair of astral rain-dreams.
If truth had a colour it would be her chocolate eyes.
Her celestial nature tells me heaven can wait.
No longer is my concrete onyx heart on fire,
as it glows like a trillion golden dragonflies.