Long Giants Poems
Long Giants Poems. Below are the most popular long Giants by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Giants poems by poem length and keyword.
When sonnets rhyme with sound, full-throated and deep,
with dulcet bars of bliss sweetly echoing;
how inspired songs, so happily sung, make thee weep
within thine sacred, and most inward, being?
Such work of genius the divine inspires,
sublimely expressed are those notes profound,
that through the ages spark Avalon's sacred pyres,
and lift the lover's heart to realms heaven-bound.
But what Muse's audience can giants know,
tap powers bane, and forces pro-elliptic;
or with mind, bolts of inspired lightning throw,
work miracles through godlings hypo-manic?
These strange, rare, bizarre, beautiful, dark minds,
are lightning struck from supernatural kinds!
Sacred Gratitude
Rockin and Rollin inside my soul
Beckoning musical notes float within me
My heart surrenders and opens
Expanding
When the world outside dances in tension
Feeling bleak and unforgiving
I am grateful to receive
Simple nuances of pure magic
Breathing into my being
Allowing a journey to the place
Between here and now
Standing in dense forest
I approach one of the gentle giants
Her redwood bark burned and blackened
Fires and history tattooing her skin
Fury red growth emerging
Her new coat of velvet delight
Limey baby branches
Make their way to the air
Thirsty for light
A deep hollow near her base
Where I can walk inside
Blackness..soft spongy bark
Touches my fingertips
A dreamy pause
Almost silent
An internal space
Quiet gratitude as I look up.. up..up
Hundreds of feet to a circle of light
Glimmering above
Sunlight trickles in
Kissing my eyelids
Diamond dust reveals
Her burnt underbelly
I stretch my arms up high above me
Sliding them into the sleeves
Of her gigantic branches
As I become her
Arms...limbs full...stretch.. radiating
Rising up ...my head tall
Viewing nature’s mesmerizing tapestry
Woven yellows and greens
Meadows, springs, water lapping nearby
Echoes of bird calls
A white snowy owl lands on my limb
Quiet gratitude as I see her blink
Her wise old eyes
Rotating her white feathered head
Counterclockwise so she may see
The entire circumference
Of her surroundings
Oh dear owl
Sister of the universe
I hear your silent whispers
Feed my soul with your insight and wisdom
I am grateful for your guidance
As I journey through subtleties
Of acceptance, challenge, and bliss
Arriving at compassion
For life and for others
War To End All Wars
It will be the war
On corporate polluters
The corporate polluters
Who deprive Our Children
Of clean air, clean water and clean food
These corporate polluters
Driven by ego and greed
Are relentless
In their pursuit of profits
To sustain their avaricious
Narcissistic lifestyles
*
Parents and their Children
Will be armed with Love, Courage
And Determination to
Dismantle the laws and policies
Allowing rampant pollution
To harm so many of us
Demand for corporate accountability
Will be heard from 'Sea to Shining Sea'
*
We are on the Edge of Existence
We and Our Children
Will not be pushed
Over the cliff
*
The Love we have for
Our Children
And their future
Will engender
A massive push-back
And a fierce stare-down
Of corporate giants
*
Governments will understand
A Mother's
Intense
Ferocious
Passion
To Save
Protect
Their
Children
The
Future
They
Deserve
*
For our first full day in Glacier these two old children of the sun thought it would be fun
to get up early before the crowds …and head out to the sun….
It’s actually called Going to the Sun Road
named for Going to the Sun mountain…because the sun, from what I hear,
is an important God to the Blackfeet tribe…the one they hold most dear.
My apologies to the Blackfeet…but I’ll explain it as best I can…
They call the sun, Napi which in their language means ‘old man’
The Blackfeet maintain there is no God greater…
for they believe, when it comes to the Earth…he is the creator
The story goes there was water everywhere…
and that nothing else could be seen…
until Napi with all the animals on his raft…showed up on the scene.
It’s a 100 mile round trip…
and we found ourselves stopping a million times that day
because everywhere we looked…literally…took our breath away.
In fact from the beginning to the end of the Sun Road
and all points in between
the road contained some of the most magnificent scenery we have ever seen.
As we stood among these mountain giants …rising so majestically and tall.
we could reach out and touch the snow, the peaks the sky, the clouds…
and feel the waterfalls….
As the road wound through the mountains….
we’d stop to gaze…to hike…to climb up and down some stairs…
along the way we were greeted by three big horn sheep
a mountain goat…and a family of grizzly bears.
The fog played hide and seek with the mountains
In the morning as our drive had just begun
but I’m proud to say by the time we finished
we made it to the sun.
We’ll be going to the sun again while we’re here
first…because we are infatuated
and second because this old man would like to find that old man
and thank him…for this world he has created.
...
Writing with blue marine and blue sky,
Carrier pigeons based on traditional Christianity,
On lungs, oriental and occidental,
Like Rome and Byzantium,
Notes G and A,
The green olive branch
For the world of Protestants,
Some tentative steps of Reformation against giants and dwarfs,
Coptic and Ethiopian icons in orange,
Red wool in Tibet and Nepal,
Purple violet in the synagogue, here it is the color of preference,
Note B musical,
Light yellow linen for Puritans in spiritual Samaria,
Note E,
The body's temple with the natural rainbow of Noah, David's dance's guiding,
Honey for the eyes,
The rain of Grace,
Blood of the vineyard,
If you bring water,
Like the Samaritan woman near Jacob’s well in dialogue,
May recognize false gurus, fake husbands,
Before the autumn, fall,
Not that grasshopper, dragonfly,
Who arrives in winter and on the Sabbath,
Old, cold, and formal,
Lame and hunchback,
Say the ant,
The good ant bringing spring’s water to the wedding at the Canes,
Good Samaritan with this wine and gold of virgin olive oil in the informal sacrament,
The virginity of the common heart in the paradise of health and life,
Like Tobias and Sarah, Joachim and Anne, blessed parents,
Man of the Third Secret of Fatima,
Father in the forest with cranberries,
Injured brother,
I ask for vengeance,
For this artificial catastrophe in my country, among the people of the Lamb,
Colors of virtues, lines of the way of life by humble providence,
On paper scroll, I draw,
An angel who always sees the Face of the Father and reflects Him with inspiration,
Sign of Jonah in Snow White's hand,
Christmas star, little prince,
The lighthouse against the growing tsunami...
Under an amber sky, in a world of rock and cactus,
I feel like a fragment of a dream, feeding my desires from harsh stones and dry winds,
I, a dwindling minority, lost in the eternal dance of pavement and deals,
while the world around me dresses in new clothes, shimmering in fine saloons,
and I feel crushed between huge plates, cultures like merciless giants,
grinding me into a very fine dust, a star dust lost in the night.
In a corner of the desert, under an amethyst sky, I listen to my heart beating
like an old drum, its echo resonating through forgotten canyons and valleys,
and I wonder if there is still a place for poets in this world of concrete and glass,
where our souls are sold in markets of illusions and empty promises,
and where every desire is buried under layers of dust and oblivion.
I see myself as a lone cactus, my roots delving deep into the rock,
seeking the water of life in the depths of the earth, while the winds whisper to me
the secrets of old days, when the sky was an ocean of light and dreams floated freely,
but now, I feel caught between two worlds, between my wild past and my narrow present,
and I wonder if I will ever find a way to escape this prison of time.
Every night, under the silver moon, I sing my lost melody,
my verses flowing like rivers of tears, filling the valley of shadows,
and I pray that someone, somewhere, will hear my call, will feel my pain,
for only then, perhaps, we can break the chains that bind us to this land of illusions,
and we can dance again under the free sky, as free spirits, as dreams of light.
But until then, I, a dwindling minority, will continue to feed my soul
from rocks and cactus and dry winds, for in those moments, I feel alive,
and even if the world crushes me, grinds me into a very fine dust,
I know that in that dust, in those particles of star dust, lies eternal magic,
so I will continue to dream, to hope, to love, even in the face of oblivion.
New York baseball fans had to face reality.
Coast to coast travel attained practicality.
Jet planes carried us west within a day.
As a result, the Giants and Dodgers both went away.
The Giants headed for San Francisco, and the Dodgers to LA.
A third major league was proposed by William Shea.
Because he could not get another team to relocate,
an entire new league was what he and others would formulate.
The Continental League was the result of ambitious dreams.
The league was to consist of eight different teams.
Cities represented were New York, Houston, and Minneapolis.
Others were Atlanta, Buffalo, Toronto, Denver, and Dallas.
An unprecedented huge undertaking had begun.
The teams were to begin playing in 1961.
This action was disfavored by the Major Leagues of Baseball.
Crucial moves had to be executed to stop it all.
Expansion plans by the National and American Leagues were announced.
As a result, the proposed Continental League was trounced.
However, William Shea and others got an expansion team.
The formation of the New York Mets fulfilled a dream.
Therefore, the Continental League ceased before pitching their first ball.
Expansion to new cities came because of it all.
Information obtained from wikipedia.org online encyclopedia.
There is so much to celebrate
Life continues beyond the night
The smiles of all that surround
Echo the anticipation that lies ahead,
And joyful tunes are the soundtrack
That makes a path that draws life out of you
Of possibilities that reach the sunset
That slices the Earth and sky.
There is so much to celebrate
Friends provide the context
To the poetry of living
And giving, and sharing and crying
That keeps you leaning forward
Together with the giants
On whose shoulders you stand
Whose virtues carried you here.
The child blows out the birthday cake
With no problems between his ears
The friends, the parents, the relations, the acquaintances
The joy, the music, the context, the security, the mystery, his God...
Gives much for the child to celebrate.
As they say, “Where there’s smoke, there is fire”
In this case it is certainly true
For a people who once ruled so many
find themselves more in place of the few
For so long they have led with a vengeance
but the tide has now started to turn
The majority finds itself strangely, on the fringe of a party that burns
They arrived from the sea with a mission
Took the land and its natives by force
With their muskets and weapons of killing
t’was a violent beginning, of course
Then they sailed overseas with their weapons
for they needed a country to build
There they found what they sought in another
and the blood of the innocents was spilled
Man-made laws justified the enslavement
as they bartered for precious ‘black gold’
Never needed a currency system as the humans were bought and were sold
Generations of slaves built the country
all their blood soaked the land that we share
As the children were ripped from their mothers
they survived on their will and a prayer
But the winds that bring change were upon them
and the nation was soon torn in two
So they fought to the death with their weapons
From the blood and the ashes we grew
Many more later died seeking justice
slowly gaining new rights never known
To these giants we owe our freedom
and in time we have certainly grown
But in spite of our laws and our freedoms
there are many who hold onto fear
As they honor their ancestors’ visions and the power they once held so dear
All their talk of a government body
who will come and will take guns away
Truth be told it is not what they’re fearing
but a country that’s changing to grey
As the races are coming together
the majority slowly will wane
As descendants of those once in power
feel the strength of minority gain
In their hearts they are mourning the passing
of a time which has long-ago gone
And the power they had over others
now a reckoning is born in the dawn
So they scream out the 2nd Amendment
wrap themselves up in red, white and blue
But their time, like their fathers’ is ending
A majority rises anew.
Tender is her touch,
a wisp of cooling mist upon burning skin
Lies of honey balmed tissues torn and shredded
are strewn about the ground with errors of her grace
As giants stood upon my shoulders
to see her slightest charm
The ocean covered with gentle mens garments
to protect her angels step
Rain defies sweet gravity to remain upon her face
And the wind wraps its serpent coil round her form
The earth hugs her like a child torn from mothers arms
Anticipation drips from my every pore
and cools the molten core below
No time passes from past to present and futures scorn
When for your soul i will always yearn