Long Glance Poems
Long Glance Poems. Below are the most popular long Glance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Glance poems by poem length and keyword.
Poet's Note:
_Written in the Stars_ is inspired by the Arabic tale of Majnun, whose real name was Qais. Driven mad by love for Laila, he was cast out and stoned, yet never stopped searching. This poem connects that ancient grief to the modern song _In the Stars_ — exploring how true love, when denied on earth, finds its home in the sky, in memory, and in eternity.
Written in the Stars
They called me Majnun. "The Mad One."
For love had burned my name away.
Qais was gone. All that remained
Was a man who prayed her name each day.
I first saw Laila —
Sun hiding shy behind the clouds,
A face of diamond, bright and clear,
A smile that scattered stars through crowds.
The desert wind would dance and spin
With golden dust across the plain.
I walked it barefoot, body torn,
Stone-thrown and branded by their shame.
They said "Forget her. She is not yours."
So I learned to speak to skies instead.
For drought could not unmake my bones,
But her absence threatened to leave me dead.
I searched for Laila in the dust
Of broken vows and empty tents.
In eyes of strangers wearing her name,
In every sigh the evening sent.
One glance. That’s all it took, my love —
And my soul left my body with joy.
The world called madness. I called truth.
A fire no tribe could destroy.
We were forbidden here on earth,
So Heaven wrote us up above.
Look up tonight.
Two distant stars
That never touch, but share one love.
That is us.
That is "In the Stars."
A love that death could not erase —
Only lift to a wider space.
Housemates are sleeping on the couch in the living room as I come down from the loft. A bowl with a fork lies on the living room floor. It’s already ten o’clock. Unopened mail lies on the desk. An argument overheard last night lingers. There are some stories mentioned too often. Some are never told. Bare limbs next door wave in a gust of wind. I grab my keys, go for a drive.
a line of trees
Just upriver and past a foundry at the edge of Bettendorf, a diner in a red building lies to the side of a busy road. A family business, I figure. The hostess smiles and asks how many. I say one, just me. She smiles. Seat yourself, she says. The sight of a server catches my eye before she comes and gets my drink. I watch a match of women’s tennis, as I had years ago and occasionally glance at her. Conversations of families bubble through the room. The server brings me my bacon, tender, just as I wanted. We share kind words. Maybe that’s all I need for now.
the Mississippi hides
In time, I’ve learned to love each small town along the river a little more. LeClaire hosts antique shops, the Buffalo Bill Museum on the shore and a paddle wheel. I’ve made friends with people at the public library and shown them poems I wrote before I take the manuscripts home. Each time I laugh and say the piece I write is never finished. Today I stop by a craft shop, and sunlight glows through a stained-glass window. The woman who it made has moved out of town.
and whispers
Each time I drive I take in the scenes of what I already love. Sometimes I notice something new. Waters rise when a barge moves downstream, as it recalls an era of paddlewheels and steamboats. Captains far away from families navigate their way through changing currents but stay true to the channel. Mark Twain once said humans are a curious species, and I must agree.
This morning, I drove to the diner on a whim, and the bacon was good. The table set for me.
For those being born wealthy,
there's something missing
to make them complete;
vast fortunes don't make
them fully competitive,
or eagerly inventive,
because comfort has already
bee given to them...
Realize that poverty has a rich side,too;
the kindness of friends to share in every smile,
those helping hands to give what they can,
and warm arms embracing: to gather your strength when you have none!
I desire nothing besides being strong and trusting anyone who's true,
to overcome all hurdles and reject pride,
opposing temptation and unsound advice;
and who can really know me...better than I?
Gamblers and losers will tell you otherwise,
" Squander your money for a chance at being super-rich!"
And will luck open its gates to let abundance flow?
You have bashfully peaked across the only side of the good life,
but not a glance of compassion was given to begin with,
because a diamond is more vain than a stone!
Shelter from cold is home to vagrants with improper attire,
prayers can help one find purpose...not to face life alone!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
I may never have met you,
If chance didn’t let you
Encounter my sight with the moonlight in your hair.
I may never have loved you
If chance hadn’t shoved you
Straight into my path with Cupid standing there.
Encountered by chance,
I felt my heart dance,
I heard my future story being told in another voice.
Much to my surprise,
Chance looked me in the eyes;
And I knew then to be with you I simply had no other choice.
I may never have met you,
If chance didn’t let you,
Turn your head my way, in the theater lobby;
I may never have loved you,
If chance hadn’t shoved you,
Into my heart with your smile of pure beauty.
Encountered by chance,
I had to do more than simply glance,
I had to let my shyness alone at the theater door;
To take advantage of this fate,
I couldn’t dare to hesitate,
Before I spoke to you, about wanting to know you much more.
I may never have met you,
I may never have loved you,
If I let this chance encounter pass both of us by;
If I never had met you,
If I never had loved you,
Of this missed chance encounter each night I would simply cry.
I walked into the hardware store,
A place I’d never been before,
And knew that I would surely find
Exactly what I’d had in mind.
The narrow aisles were like a maze
Which led to crowded wall displays.
The owner, deep in heavy schmoozing,*
Left me to my own perusing.
Finally, I earned a glance
And asked him if he had, perchance,
A drainage trap or some such thing
To catch a slipped-off wedding ring.
He pointed to a set of shelves
(I guess we had to help ourselves)
And then went back into his chat,
Not budging from the place he sat.
The whole time I was on my search
He prattled from his counter perch,
Not caring if I would prevail
Or even if he’d make a sale.
I found my prize, he named a price
And handed me my merchandise.
His goodbye smile said, “Good for you!
You found it, like I knew you’d do!”
*conversing
With a single glance
I imagine a lifetime dance
The scent of you
the things we’ll do
Somehow it rings true
as I walk towards you
Those lips and brown eyes
Cause my spirit to rise
Your voice and face
Fill time and space
Your outline my eyes trace
as I envision your body in lace
True love begs to come to fruition
You and me is my mission
Within your eyes I see
a passion that sets us both free
Without doubt I know what will be
We’ll live within and beyond ecstasy
Imagination is a powerful thing
On your lovely finger a ring
Together witnessing our future unfold
Young to middle age then old
courage favours the bold
You are the one I love and hold.
When you know you know
Dedicated to my sweetie
Coming up to 28 years of amazing.
Drone
little specs down below
watch them scurry to and fro
streams of white and red
filling an ocean at my behest
with broken backs and crooked limbs
their hurried toils
are the subject of my whims
in my lands there is no rest
a slow decay, day by day
their bones will feed my nest
while in the ground they rot away
I'm master of fates
a thousand levers, my machine
safe in the shadows of fame
watching on from up on high
my belly full, my mouth never dry
with icy condescension
I hatch designs beyond comprehension
get them suited, get them booted
toughened by steel, broken by greed
for their hardened skin, their rotten toenails
I raise my glass to their travails
My glance a morbid curiosity
at their scurrying toil to bend the knee
exchanging lies by my design
pinned to a board, I pull their wings
my malice is refined, my face dignified
torn apart, they cannot sting
their lives are but fleeting dreams
Some burn like tigers
caged in glass
flickering with fervent purpose
until their future's passed
up and down the way they work
fighting their way along the curb
fusing their greed and need
working the line for chicken feed
with broken backs and crooked limbs
their hurried toils
are the subject of my whims
in my lands there is no rest
a slow decay, day by day
their bones will feed my nest
while in the ground they rot away
little specs down below
watch them turn to ash and bones
jump a mile
plunge headlong
you'll never leave
where you belong
A-llow the day to break,
L-et it beautify the view;
L-ife of you will feel the thrill,
Y-our eyes will be pleased anew.
S-eptember eighteenth morn has made you see the sun;
A-llowing the day to break when warm light has begun.
E-njoin the night from staying,
N-ever letting it remain;
R-ain and chill have turned
I-nto tender touch without pain.
Q-uest for the break of day,
U-ntil you find the new dawn;
E-agerly watch the blue sky,
Z-enith and clouds you look upon.
A-llow the day to break,
G-od always gives a chance;
U-nless you trust in Him,
I-t's His kingdom you won't glance.
L-ong life and salvation
A-re there for you to take;
R-ise from your soft bed, allow the day to break.
Fool’s paradise
They say love is perennially blind, so let it be
Keep your eyes open, see what you need to see
Make her beautiful face a piece of transparent glass
Let your vision go to depth of her mind, take a glance
You may find a chameleon there very cleverly hidden
Its change of color you can’t predict, it’s so sudden.
In the glint of her eyes you may fly on cloud nine
You’ll fall with broken wings when they won’t shine
What sensuous mouth says may not come from heart
If you live in illusion in fool’s paradise, always be alert.
Don’t make the mistake Adam did in Garden of Eden
The apple may look tempting, don’t eat it even then.
Who are you to look upon I as if I can fit into the pages of a book?
As if one glance can fit this eternal ocean right in its nook?
As if I can be bounded up in the cover
Tightened by a string, escorted by punctuation, while I wait for your words to be able to sing.
Who are you to label me?
As if I can be captured by your words. My name gets choked up in vocals, as I pull on the chords.
I am who I am, nothing less
I am not defined by your constructed tests
I am the fire in you soul, the beat in your chest
I am greater than your law, I stand above the rest
You will address me as such