Long Give off Poems
Long Give off Poems. Below are the most popular long Give off by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Give off poems by poem length and keyword.
Listen to the still, small voice
As silence drifts around your thoughts
Caressing, accepting, delighting
In the hope, faith and love
Found within the sincerity of a soul
In the breath of one short moment
Much joy can be discovered
Embracing the heart with gentle warmth
Brightening the promise of dreams
Who abound in this flash of wonder
Hearken to the inspirational message
Steeped in the brew of assurance
With heartwarming prayers sent to Him
Who is alive and dwelling in heaven
Awaiting our heart’s best supplication
Enjoy, enlighten, enliven… embrace
All the inspirations found in true praise
Of the creator who brings wisdom and grace
On music flowing with lights that hesitate
To give off a amber glow of rejoicing
In the breath of one short moment
Discover the spiritual wisdom and insight
Into the life who knows only to believe
On the God who is the creator of Love
And inspires us all to give back from our faith
Murmur over a feeling, an emotion, an idea
Imagine the truth lies buried in the spirit
Discover the peace that sometimes hides away
Beneath colors of darkness, melancholy and brooding
All the little views of a heart caught up in living
Within a silent moment of expectation
Draw out the calm, the serenity, the affection
Smile at the kindness of God’s mystery
And feel the laughter that consoles and directs
The heart toward a place of mindfulness
Mindfulness poetry contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
June 5, 2021
In a search for a definition,
I did not expect to discover
the word 'Inhale' connected
to the word 'Inspire'. It is
to 'breathe in'.
To expire is to 'breathe out',
to emit air from the lungs. To
give off, or eject. It's also
another way of saying, 'Exhale'.
Oh, the wonders of God's great
creation of life for all living
creatures. The flow of life via
'Inhale' is an ever-burning beacon
of light until such time when we
breathe or 'Exhale' our last breath.
Therein lies somewhere between
inhaling and exhaling, a Divine
Authorization for the process.
Oh, the mystery of it all. Yet, the
Master of it all has revealed measures
of truth that liberates us with hope.
It is He who releases us (in a moment),
from this body of death and decay. And
it is He who connects us (in an instant),
to our new immortal body for eternity.
112322PS
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Sustain me with faith to increase the sweetness of inner joy,
let my eager palate taste the freshness of these citrons...
as love overflows the walls of the humblest and sincerest heart:
o beautiful maidens...like the swift gazelles and hinds,
don't awaken any amorous desire in me before its time!
On His left arm I find rest, as His right arm embraces me;
my Lord is the eternal keeper, His voice vibrates over mountains and hills
and keeps me safe from the dangers and impurities of the world...
shielding me from the tears, sorrows and pains given to the sinners.
The fig trees have been fruitful and give off their fragrance,
every vine is blossoming..." Get up, my chosen one, my just one and come away!"
He speaks to me saying, " Come away, faithful one...all suffering is done,
my grace is upon you: the flowers have bloomed in the fields;
rejoice and sing your praises to me! Hear my voice roaring through the Holy Land!"
O my Holy one, I long to see your shining and glorious face
in the Mount Sinai and hear Your loud voice speak with a tone of kindness.
Cast away the thieves and envious ones who spoil the vineyards...
will they bring forth good wine that I will serve at banquets?
My Lord is mine and I am His delight, He guides His flock among innocents
and until the dawn has fully risen and all shadows have vanished:
become my Savior and like the gazelle or tender stag climbing rugged terrain,
a messenger or child will unexpectedly come to accomplish Your work.
FLOODED CLOSET
flooded closet,
got your attention?
washer; and dryer
sent to the dungeon, well
the garage. not our fault.
phone call received in ninety-three,
wouldn’t insure us —
the flood, you know…
have you guessed?
previous occupants.
of course a bit of common sense
supported us.
closet contains lots of shelves,
you can climb
to reach
the attic space,
but a few years back
we built a stairway to the stars.
closets filled with candles —
gifts that give and give
and give off light
used once or twice,
and flashlights,
big and small
and an incense burner
from my son —
he’s an odd gift giver.
a few family games for occasions
requiring members who love to play games —
I do! I do!
but most don’t feel the same.
that old floors cluttered,
not with clothes (how
nice that would have been —
oh the convenience!)
but with a vacuum, stoneware,
cleaning supplies.
I wanted to unclutter,
but is it only a reshuffle?
At least the floor —
I might score a clean in that department,
still i must dust, dust
dust, “achooooo…”
i must wash hands many
many many times
through the process
(one time I encountered dust
and broke out in a rash —
scritch, scratch, scratch)
I just might
get this job
done -
stay tuned.
i expect your yawn
and your finger violin,
“my heart bleeds for you.”
it must get done
then i will move on
to my wardrobe...ahem,
won’t go into that.
11/24/2020
The mind empowered with desire -
The heart upon a dragon's back -
From depths of hell, Intricate Fire
Spring into life! And don't look back!
Through caves, through shafts, and through volcanos -
Into the clouds in ruby plumes -
Through things both exquisite and heinous -
Intricate fire to burn presumes.
What is your source? Who is your ruler?
Upon which start and to what end?
Reasoned from what, and in what manner?
Through context, based on which intent?
In forest, wildfire without pity;
Midst people, the electric light -
Moderate doses light a city;
Extremes burn holes in the night -
What will you char? What will you nourish?
And what transfigure, into whom?
What will in warmth you give off flourish?
What will be in your heat consumed?
Smashing through crust, and into air -
And with that feat of passion done
Springing past construct and despair -
But what is closer to the sun?
Crust breaks, that fire might meet the surface
And show what is that made the earth;
And then beyond, there is the cosmos,
That gave both earth and fire its birth!
And then beyond, galactic matter
And then - more, more, and endlessly
Simplicity complexly scattered
From simply hewn complexity:
Quasars, black holes, energized darkness,
The sugar in the Milky Way
Particle-waves, relative timespace
Between the galilean frames -
But do not pause yet on your journey!
So much to see, so much to be!
Abyss of stars appear before you
And in them - blended - destiny:
To meet the sky, and like a comet
To blaze the path around the sun
Through Milky Way and out beyond it
And through it, out into the One!
Or two! Or three! Or the forever
Beyond the known aleph null -
Into the endless Everywhere -
Burst, fire, and never ever fall:
Spring into the eternal purpose
And only then you can be free:
From magma's heart and into Cosmos -
Intricate fire! Burn through me!
Magnolia blooms,
in not yet warmed chilling air of early spring,
look gruesome rather than beauteous
because the flowers open in lots of large corollas
with a shade of pink and scarlet in milky white based petals
resemble to the ginggue* actress Dan’s make-up,
she wears heavy red eye shadow
on thickly painted white make-up
and always ends with tragic end,
because the flowers
on the leafless brownish-black withered branches
look much too similar to the head of Medusa
sculpt on smooth but cold marble,
the large grotesque pupilless eyes
with hairs of ill-willed wiggling serpents.
When the sunlight appears momentarily
through thick and heavy gloomy air,
the blooms of neither white nor scarlet
fall on the ground and shatter to pieces of petals
that will never be able to come together again
in the gathering darkness of dismal weather
that is neither a winter nor the summer,
the magnolia,
though there is a shape,
like a lifeless artificial flower,
for unable to give off the fine scents, sobs.
And when magnolia sobs,
the spirit of deserted woman
roaming in the nether world
sighs her miserable life,
and when her grief piles up high,
the spirits of fallen corollas
return to the withered branches
and shoot out as the green leaves.
*Ginggue: The Chinese traditional pantomimic-opera like drama developed
and greatly flourished at Beijing in Qing dynasty.
Dead to the World…
I don’t feel good about anything anymore
Look at me; I’m dead to the world
Nothing is sacred, no one is safe
Just look at me, I am dead to the world…
Say goodbye to a friend that has reached an abrupt end
It’s much more than a job when it has become a way of life
You must see it in another way
Realizing that it’s not your life
And the path ahead is clear and bright again
But look at me, I don’t feel good about anything anymore
Face down; I’m dead to the world
Nothing is sacred, no one is safe
Just look at me, I am dead to the world…
All good deeds die with the day and all good days just as bad will end
At the end of the tunnel always bathed in light you’ll stand
The human contradiction in shades of light and dark
The fire inside is burning but still won’t give off a spark
I don’t feel right about anything anymore
Just look at me, I’m dead to the world
Nothing is sacred, no one is safe
Face down; I am dead to the world…
You give it all there is to give
Your blood, your sweat, your tears
And what rewards will be there for you
After you have given so many years to the cause
But a short and cold goodbye, heartless and thankless
So look at me and you will see;
I don’t feel good about anything anymore
Face down; I am dead to the world
Nothing is sacred, no one is safe
Look at me; I am dead to the world…
On the sandy knoll he stands, a solitary, forlorn figure gazing at the sky. It’s a clear night, and hundreds of stars shimmer like fireflies pinned to the firmament. His eyes fix on one of them, a twinkling pinpoint near the center that seems to give off a faint amber glow. Looking at it distractedly, he wonders what star it is, which galaxy, how many light years away. He has been mired in a persistent gloom brought on by a bad breakup which life in general has done little to lift, and in his pensiveness, he yearns to be where he is not.
Stars congregating
A salve of reticent lights
Melancholy vaults
He imagines not only life but a much more advanced civilization on the amber star (the distinction between a star and a planet he’s in no mood to dwell on), an unknown utopia in the wilderness of space where unhappiness has been bred out of the entire race, and where there’s no war, no loss, no hate, no love, just a perpetual lightness of being maintained by wisdom and moored to omnipotent technology. He wishes he could leave everything behind, and go far, far away to that beckoning star.
Soul with starry eyes
Thoughts retreat into night sky
Fantasy of flight
The star he’s gazing at is in fact not a star, but a planet in a spiral galaxy 4.5 million light years away, which would not be visible to his naked eye if it weren't for the light from over 5,000 near-simultaneous explosions that have obliterated civilization there in a nuclear apocalypse. Before life was extinguished, the planet’s inhabitants called their galaxy the Milky Way, and the planet itself, Earth.
Man-made suns flashing
Perpetual night descends
Light flees into space
Inspired by the song “So Many Stars” by Sergio Mendes, Marilyn Bergman, Alan Bergman
God has graced Nature with beauty and utmost esteem.
A crown has rested upon her head all her life long.
In my youth, a flower bud made my eyes gleam;
Its radiant loveliness being praised by the birds’ song.
The vision of ripening fruit made my mouth lust,
Nestled graciously on a branch above the fences.
The melodic whisper of a gentle morning gust
Sounds like a symphony to music starved senses.
The golden warmth of an early morning sun
Brings to mind visions of still unseen dreams
Of our hibernal daystar that lasts ‘til victory is won
And nature has harnessed her most fearful extremes.
God prepare me, I pray, for when nature resounds,
And she possesses the glory which is fully deserved.
The earth will be filled with birds’ melodious sounds,
When a feast of sweet songs my ears are served.
And let a shapely damsel in a floral patterned dress
Allow me a moment to relax my infinite necessities.
May the ripest sweetest fruit withstand my test,
And all the rest avail their succulent identities.
Let my vision behold nature as she abounds
When her colorful blossoms give off radiant beams.
Might I be blessed by the Divine when Nature resounds
And reality becomes a field of never before seen dreams.
Hark! Halloween breeds an open season of gloom,
For others, the very thought would not fill the room,
Tonight, Jack O' Lanterns give off a soft warm glow,
With the guidance of moonlight and young eyes aglow
I hear a chorus of laughter for trick or treat,
As rich buckets overflow with surplus sweetmeat,
Creepy costumed silhouettes flood through the stark night,
And if they knock, please beware and accept your plight
Full darkness is descending, I feel icy dread,
From a blood curdling scream, that could wake up the dead,
A young child weeping, whose parents cannot console,
His bounty of treasured gains, swindlers grabbed and stole
In my lost state, I can give no consolation,
For I am just a mere humble aberration,
I glide towards the tranquil place of the deceased,
Where the walking dead fables have not ceased
My former maid, a kind-hearted apparition,
Hands me my tea, smiling, to ease my affliction,
You see at Halloween, no need to fear the dead,
Be on your upmost guard for the living instead
27/11/22
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Halloween poetry contest
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