Long Geometrical Poems
Long Geometrical Poems. Below are the most popular long Geometrical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Geometrical poems by poem length and keyword.
Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud,
Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud,
Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand,
Golden frame of a sea cradled land.
Fishing village, atmospheric hub,
Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub,
Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall,
Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool.
Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge,
Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge,
Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill,
Buzzards soar and wise hares are still.
Tin mine engine house, towering stack,
Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back,
White clay peak, geometrical and sleek,
Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep.
Moor-land, open, untamed, granite strewn,
Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune,
Tor and beacon, barrow and mound,
You’re in God’s own country,
When you walk this ground.
Start from a place of respect and love.
Prepare for flight, be the dove.
Get ready the questions you wish to find.
With intention breath in deeply. And understand
This will blow your mind.
You will be shot to somewhere else.
A familiar place. A land of elves.
A fractal expanse beyond space and time.
A place where all is entwined and combined.
A place that is unlimited potential.
A geometrical place, quite the spectical.
The most amazing things you've ever seen.
Way beyond your wildest dreams.
A place unfortunately you will soon forget.
Like sand slipping through your fingers, unable to net.
All the wisdom you have gleaned.
The big picture, the entire scene.
The part you play, and your place.
Your purpose here all your days.
Infinitely small, yet infinitely needed.
Yes you matter. Your role must be completed.
We are all just but a piece.
All connected, and will never cease.
We are all here trying to discover
What we are. Till then love one another.
Lend a hand, a kind word, and a hug.
When we do this we all rise up.
And when one falls, we all fall too.
We are one- this much is true.
We are all just another reflection.
Of each other, and at one time perfection.
Let us all find our way back.
To the source of what we now lack.
The light, the love,
Compassion and understanding.
What we were before this experience
Of life and learning.
Quyted (to depart from) your arms is an urge I have held on to
Qwerty language got me typing away with you for no clue (reason)
Quenched in your disqualifying love affair
Tired of being your nightmare twyer and your dream catcher afire
Tripping out because I puffed on my drug of desire - the cigarette of regret and its outrageous results
Trapezoids get paranoid at the sight of your circular ways...triangle angles has shaped your geometrical appearance, your symmetrical awareness
I d-don't mean t-to intrude your without-a-trace personal space
Intrigued to see you have moved on with your life's really rapid race
I don't think perfectionists are normal...nor are pacifists to battle friend grounds, going up and down a bomb-packed wall
Damaged drastically by your dismay days and its highest degrees...lowering my confidence levels inedibly
Do note this - I love your hatred and you hate my love
Dandelions grow where my lily pads float and it doesn't make any logical sense at all...so I hand you a bouquet of stars and forget-me-nots and forgive-me-pleases
Empathic emperors are crowned as clever Kings in my town of undefeated honor and elegant dignity
Empower me with the Haar's breeze for the time being and squander our time like children, chasing around each other at the park and playing following the leader...
Empty your pockets of moonjoy and let it sprinkle upon me spacious, splendid sunrises and I'll be the leader and you the follower this time forth and forevermore
And I utter risk-taking words of bipolar weather (emotions and the changing effects)
Alienated ambition strikes me on stage with brave potentials and talents alike that is the opposite of stage fright altogether
Adorn me with blissful blessings that are of the highest quality and will make all crowds tremor with respectful fear
Rouge roses you tossed at my timid tombstone (doing away with shyness)...now I'm bleeding out Crimson, a vermillion vengefulness you spat at me
Remitting relief grief upon me, the Haar's blasted breeze oh so wretched breeze once at ease...Dona Nobis Pachem please...
In seventeen sixty nine a child was born
in Corsica, Genoa's former vassal state.
Prior to his birth, his land had been war-torn,
Paoli's resistance did his birth predate.
At school, his geometrical talent was inborn,
and he was tutored by none other than Laplace.
For his accent, his peers at school laughed him to scorn,
but fortune would elevate him from grass to grace.
With his much older heartthrob he tied the knot;
much to the chagrin of his own dear family.
For the heart of Josephine he relentlessly fought,
and at Chateau de Malmaison they lived happily.
Later he would choose a military career
that would take him beyond the Corsican frontier.
France's revolution saw to his glorious rise,
when at Toulon, he took royalists by surprise.
To Egypt he led a dual expedition
of a military and scientific mission.
To France he returned and sacked the directory,
taking charge of the affairs of state and treasury.
Europe did contend with him in seven coalitions;
at Austerlitz he subjugated two nations,
at Marengo, Austria on her bended knees fell,
at Jena-Auerstadt, Prussia to victory bade farewell.
At Borodino, Russia met her nemesis,
as her vanquished forces saw their paralysis.
At Ligny, Blucher like a beaten canine fled
with the terribly smitten forces he once led.
Portugal's sovereign lord to distant Brazil ran,
when like an invincible lord he came to his realm.
The emperor he feared, and made no military plan;
thus he paved the way for him to ascend his helm.
But despite his triumphs, his weakness was exposed.
At Rolica, his troops a major set back saw.
From Leipzig he did to Elba's island withdraw,
from whence in 1815 he returned unopposed.
Russia's wintry plains did his grand armee deplete,
making his troops vulnerable to a future defeat.
After the famous battles in which he gloried,
his great ambition at Waterloo was buried.
Magic is everywhere, but stage magicians,
have no clue, as to what it really is.
Magic built our universe.
That something so complex, as the universe,
could be born of a few elements of pure…magic.
That, intelligent organisms can grow,
from carbon and evolve; that’s magic.
A flower, bush or a tree, unfolding from a seed;
that’s magic.
Real magic; the nature of everything.
An atom, cell, molecule of DNA…magic.
The Visica Pisces in the seed of life,
gives birth to the flower of life.
Metatron’s cube is geometrical magic.
That, all that exists, is composed of numbers;
real magic.
Ideas are born of, dream magic.
Whole civilizations, are birthed into existence by…
dream magic.
Magical wonders, reflected in young eyes;
stir the emotions and captivate the senses.
Scientists…magicians…they’ve no idea,
of how real magic works.
The magic that creates all life,
is beyond known physics;
metaphysics and its comprehension’
lie in hidden realms, where human ego,
blocks science from going.
The real magicians;
those who dare to cross the line,
ego has drawn,
are persecuted and maligned by colleagues.
As magical history unfolds,
wisdom is revealed.
The same science that says:
“humans use only one third of their brain capacity”;
all too swiftly, negate the other two thirds.
Society, self-limiting;
minimizes its own knowledge;
its own magical existence.
Doubt is a game, played by fools;
while belief, is the magical wonderland,
of materializations; yet to manifest.
What exists. in the imaginations magic hat…exists. Just wave the wand of belief and produce.
Skeptitis, is an overwhelming malady.
Its swollen tendrils,
have kept the world in,
stagnation; far too long.
Belief is the only cure;
the magic of faith,
does move mountains.
I bow to
First International Star
The Iconic figure of speechless cinema.
Revolutionary Actor
creating ceremonial precedence
carrying charismatic elegance
on success of tramp character as vagrant wanderer
ensuing mockery whirling enigma.
Sweet, short silent Man acting on tricky plan
Mustache butterfly, lips pressed
Wearing bowler hat to impress
Cute cane in hand, posing as clown to stand
Cool calm, clad in cocoon of sarcasm
Always rushing in fun: Jumpy walk on right angled turn.
Geometrical movement slipping silent.
Charlie Chaplin cheerful chap
demanding deserving delightful clap.
Humorous pretty pageant
Glamorous majestic pleasant
Macrocosm of circus
Comical pose and postures
Funny witty gestures of super quality.
The Global Celebrity.
Artistic Realistic benevolence in aptitude.
Precise Perfection in plenitude.
My deep reverence
Earnest admiration and adoration
to Classic Comedian.
My emotive veneration
for presaging emblematic errand
on typical style tangling in derision.
Diplomatic Director on dauntless dogma.
I bow to
First International Star.
A simple recipe of water, silt, soil and clay
Nature's potion; so powerful, so useful, so dangerous
Uncontrollable and untethered is this egalitarian mixture
Loved and loathed by human and animal
Low tide, the muddy shores of the Victorian Thames beckoned
The ragged-clothed mudlark scavenged for anything he could sell
Scrap iron, animal fat, coal, pieces of rope and canvas - the daily fayre
Few pennies for bread and beer, so cruel for the young, orphaned, homeless child
They came to Woodstock and Glastonbury with a light heart
Tens of thousands flocked to share music and the experience
Rain-turned fields of mud bound them together
They freely left muddied, smiling and uplifted
Yet, in another time the mudscape of the battlefield was the real enemy
The toxic mix of natural mud contaminated with human bi-products
Was the welcome each new trench soldier received
It oozed into the very soul of every pawn on both sides
In another place, Musgum people are at one with the earth
The simple beauty of their mud huts lingers on
Tall conical form cools the summer heat
Outside, geometrical patterns channel the monsoon rains
Elsewhere, acrid black smoke hangs over the valley like a spectre
Families live and work in squalor, slaves in all but name
A child finishes a mud brick her father moulded and her mother will bake
India’s economic miracle built in the mud hell of the poor
Strong, viscous, colourfully rich
Powerful images of mud stencils of the street
Dramatic forms of the land artist’s river mud
Subtle negative spaces in mud cloth designs
Yet in one moment, nature's art supersedes
The deadly ride of everything in the mudflow’s path
The open wound of a hillside landslide
The jigsaw pattern in sun-baked mud of a riverbed
The figurative use of mud exudes negative undertones
Worthless and polluting, it described sixteenth century people and things
Mixed with a sense of extreme, an insult it soon became
Dragged through the mud by mudslinging of others, your name becomes mud
Mud, O glorious mud
You take no sides, you give no quarter
Fluid in your journey, solid in your destiny
Eternal existence assured
Under The Loom of The Majestical Full Moon In Full Bloom
I Prostate Before Your Ethereal Altar
With Offerings of Adoration, Words and Songs Expressed
Throughout the Ages Like a Universal Mantra
In Your Lustrous Fullness I am Consumed
Beholding Your Ghostly, Geometrical Translucent Petals
Revered Celebrity, Shamanic Guide, Celebrated Ritual In the Sky
Rhythmic Influencer of Beast, Flora, Marine and Humanity, Expectorant of the Oceans' Tides
Oracle of Prophecy, Supernatural Orb Casting Transparency on Egocentric Mendacities
Graceful is your Enchanting Reprieve
Moon Bathing in Boons Of Abundance Her Recipients Receive
Anticipating Your Maiden Shakti Rituals, Deluging Gratitude Upon the Earth, Honorable Aqua Libations
Abolishing Facades and Self Induced Limitations, New Moon Mirror Affirmations Daily Recitals
Meekly Dedicated to Successfully Harvest The Bounty of Your Heavenly Culmination.
Goddess of the Night Sky, Silvery, Celestial Mystery of Incandescence Beauty
Sturmfrei, In Stillness I Cherish Thee, Fervent Selenophile, your Humble Devotee
Hail the Assigned Karmic Referee, Advocator of Calm, Adjudicator of Self Inflicted Battles
Discord Created by Illusions, Conflicted Engagements Between I and Me
Reverence Expressed In Your Rise and Set, Uttered Salutations Of Faith, Hope and Love
Embedded in a Moonstone Rosary, Dutiful Majestic Beauty, Hypnotic Silvery Medallion Gracing The Starry Tapestry.
She cleans the floor outside entrance door,
takes some rice powder in hand
deftly moving her hands
creates patterns on ground.
Circles,squares many geometrical designs
without any instruments...
Sometimes even a scenery!
Intricate designs easily created,
her skills are praiseworthy.
At times she puts dots on the ground
joins them with hands for perfection
On festivals she fills her designs with powders of different colours
Or with flowers
that takes lot of time
but she has tons of patience...
It is a pleasure to watch her work!
Check out this link to watch her at work:-
https://www.alamy.com/stock-photo/india-woman-making-rangoli-festival.html
Note : Rangoli also called kolam in South India is a tradition where women draw beautiful designs on the entrance of house every morning to welcome God inside. Big elaborate Rangoli can be seen on occasions like weddings, festivals and temples. Divine love for God pours forth as a woman draws them.
Satan tormentor of my dreams;
Deep into that darkness avalanche;
On that day my soul grew in ambers;
Lit on fire condemning---
Once upon this brilliants midnight silent;
I confess between you and me;
Both profess being ungodly;
But you no longer get my praise;
I now relinquish my chains;
Bound to hell only you not me, Satan GET THEE BEHIND ME…
I awoke and flung the HEET;
Instead I uncovered the sunshine heaven’s lined peace;
It threw its Satan’s ghost against the winds
Chaotic demons through which came sweltering, sweltering, sweltering…
They are perfumed from unseen kinds;
And the storms never shaping time;
But in the fact that it was cheeping;
Take thy static from out my heart peeping;
You warned me about the upstart;
Get out, Satan Get out;
Deep into that darkness twisting;
While I pondered, geometrical and existing;
And the downdrafts never tapping;
It was happening, just believe it-it’s happening;
Remembering many benign, crooked descents;
It threw its ghost against the disturbances;
The dynamic brought such sorrow;
Death shall bring slopes, fallen shadows;
I have dreamed further of the infernos;
I ask God this is not where I want to go;
Deep into that darkness ramping
Suddenly I see a light…
I hold on to Jesus tight;
That moment my soul grew benevolent;
I walked through HelL,
but I didn’t stay there;
Hallelujah! Heaven now awaits
4/09/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©