Long Grail Poems
Long Grail Poems. Below are the most popular long Grail by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grail poems by poem length and keyword.
Love…
Love; the possibilities.
Love; and all that could have been.
Love; it’s all you need it to be.
Love; it has a hold of me.
If love could become all I wish it had been,
Would love still have the same meaning?
If love is really all you need,
Then why will love not last for me?
Love; the thing dreams are made of.
Love; you must give it all you have got.
Love; a memory that can never be forgotten.
Love; the two of us have already been chosen.
This love is still the same to me;
Your love is my everything and you are my perfect melody.
This love will last for eternity.
This love for you has been born inside of me.
Love; the cherished beauty and the unforgiving beast.
Love; a starving hearts lifelong feast.
Love; alone no more in this place of peace.
Love; the greatest love stories are tragedies.
Love at first sight can last for a lifetime.
Our love can grow deep within our hearts and minds.
Love can be lost, but still love we are trying to find.
No-one truly gives up on love, so why would I?
Love; the Holy Grail and the saving grace.
Love; a beautiful mind and a beautiful face.
Love; the end of the search and the happiest day.
Love; it is all we require, so love me truly and I shall feel the same way.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
Frank Lane
1877-1913
RS was my best friend,
A friend ever to the end.
Together we footed and mounted
The pliant limbs of the Hybrid Tree
On County Road,
And wetfully whistled,
As with birds in the warm zephyrs
Of summer solstice,
At the lassies down below,
With young and perfumed necks naked,
Ready and shivering,
For the ghost dance.
Together we skipped smooth stones,
Upon the staid surfaces
Of the state school pond,
Out back among the chicken coops
And the pig pens;
We howled and hollered,
As with hysterical night beasts,
Wild under the stars!
Together we passed scented posies to Lottie Gordon,
Our intended island of private discovery,
Our intended treasure,
Our intended Holy Grail!
And with silent tandem ascensions,
There in the enticing moon shadows,
RS and I found a home in the Gordon heights,
Inside the inviting spread-out mansion,
Of a hundred breathless whispers.
The reasoning ladder by which one can rise,
needs a wall of faith or it becomes a falling prize.
Purpose divine reason do not agree,
with earthy desires and reasons to plea.
The great factor of reason and possibilities,
provides every curse and bliss facilities.
Daring is preferred to face the fearing malady,
against all odds and wondering remedy.
While others astonishment is nothing but,
the limited ignorance reflecting in that.
To touch reality reasons have to rise above facts,
and words that hides reality from any acts.
Failure follows upon weakness somewhere,
wrong direction leading to the opposite end aware.
Death and life feels at the same time,
benefits by almighty realization prime.
The virtue of duty in its own pleasure,
done unwillingly becomes a slavery measure.
Critical tendency and its reason of an agitated mind,
pursuit the impossible is the magical kind.
Sensation is the shadow of exaltation,
worshipping love is the hand of creation.
Reasons why all learning becomes pale,
once divine reasons proof to be, the ‘Holy Grail’.
(a quid pro quo plug for zaftig women)
women that tip weigh ling needle to spin vicious circle
akin to puppy chasing her/his tail
or require digital scale,
at the extreme alt right registering heavy
ba Jill 'en Jack knifed pail loads
whether young or old ought to be appreciated
not waifer thin self starved as a rail,
instead they suffer unfair injustice
like a trapped quivering quail
thus this fatalistic, generic,
and holistic landlubber
wanted to point head lee
hammer home one secure
heterosexual bondage stronger than
omnipotent Marcy's Playground
weather beaten pail
Trent Reznor's sixty 9 inch rust free steel nail
into the coffin of bias
against bevy of beautiful babes
within the mind of this male,
who inherited genetic predisposition
for being average, hearty and hale
yet feel compassion for those engaged
in an ongoing with battle of the bulge,
hmm... perhaps hiding ample bosom
akin to milky sopping wet grail
or accepted unequivocally themselves
without envy of lithesome women,
who seem to possess flair with nary a flail
yet possess much love to avail,
and tis wise to love oneself unconditionally
despite premium aesthetics considered svelte
which mass media accentuates de facto spelt
definition of femininity aka runway models
donned in faux animal pelt
whose deliberate self exhibition
prompts madding crowd of man
to waggle tongue with slack jaws
as if ready to melt
or at instantaneous signal telepathically felt
drop drawers upon removing blackbelt.
Spawn of the arcane, glutted, she sprawls upon the sands
of mythos. As victims, star-crossed lovers, outcasts,
we have all seen the traces of these nether lands.
Sphinx-like, besotted, she lays among the bodies dashed.
A pixie smith has cast her silver chains, retained her
inside this mystic plane, stained her hide vintage rose.
Among the cards on the table, it is plain; she purrs.
Do you know what she knows; guess, a riddle she poses.
Protection sought from life's trials is at her command.
But, few coupled or single have journey past her grasp.
Unknown, to the unschooled, their senses unused, banned,
Christendom, the sacred fecund grail has miscast.
From Hatshepsut's visage, bound to Sekhmet she's sworn
beware, beware The Chariot's card once it is drawn.
For all my life I've been alone,
From early childhood to fully grown.
I never seemed to just fit in,
No matter where, no matter when.
No one seemed to want me around.
They thought me a fool, just some little clown.
I wanted so much to be one with the others.
No one wanted me, not even my mother.
So I created a fantasy land,
Where I could heal and be whole again.
I became special in stories and books,
And I could be loved in spite of my looks.
Then I found a book unlike all the others,
Neglected like me with dust on it's cover.
This was no fantasy or fairy tale.
It was real and true, it was my Holy Grail;
For I found The Master within it's pages,
Filled with love and forgiveness, reaching out through the ages.
Now I no longer ache inside.
No longer alone I've no need to hide,
Within books and stories of fantasy.
I'm no longer a cast out for You wanted me.
CRICKETS IN HEAD
I’m a NeoPagan
From the Church of All Worlds
Dedicated to the celebration of Life.
I’m set on a land in the long run
Looking for crackets.
The brooms come higher that I expected
And the hole throws up and has to open its songs.
I have ears to hear them
And eyes to see a deep chair In a green dress.
I find myself between
Sabbat or Pagan festival
Smiling its ok. Look:
Here’ coming Oimelc, Ostara, Beltane
Ltha, Lugnasad, Mabon, Samhain and Yule
Wanting to touch my face.
Probably they rattling
Brushing me out of its night.
And there are others:
Cernunnos and Diana saying it to me:
“Those who have ears to hear
Let them hear
The crickets’ cri cri in head”
Ok ok as I say.
Me and We are programated holler, squeaky
Dreaming the green mats
Of a hit confusión of body and mind
While crickets have a narrow squeak.
Do You know, do You see:
In the new days the celebration is
As in the old days: Crimes, rapes, wars.
The Solstice and Equinox
Walk on bloody air.
From the Zenit to the Nadir
Wo/men pass their artificial time
Living by one’s wits.
Earth relates the Universe as we perceive it:
The Solstices and Equinoxes
Are tired of our criminal freak
And Dane Rudyar’s
“The Astrology of Personality” is broken
Founding fur in our dreams
In our stew.
Word, our Word now
Is tired and rap
Robert Heinlein’ s “Stranger in a Strange Land”.
Crackets sing Neo-Paganism
In its black wings
As in the Cauldron of Cerridwen and in the Holy Grail
The day of equal dark and equal light
Beginning anew.
The day they kidnapped you
Was the day I found myself lost.
I found myself mostly numb
In a frosted layer of my own tears --
My eyes now dried out from
Years of overuse.
I've never missed something this badly,
Even after losing my own dad.
Sadly this takes the cake.
I almost feel inhuman for feeling this way.
But isn't that what I am now since you fled?
The monster under my childhood's bed?
One of a total of eight -
One for every forsaken flame
That kept the fire of my childlike zeal burning -
And eight years of work still can't raise the flame from its slumber.
Forgive me
In the chill of loneliness' cavern
I've forgotten the fondness of a smiling heart,
Or the levity of laughter's luxury.
I have lost the grail of passion,
And a passion for people.
People --
Love
People laugh
People listen
People link arm to arm
And lean closer
Eye to eye
Bonded by the light transmitted between them.
I am not people.
I am not persons.
I am but deserted versions of
burdens long forsaken,
behind the curtains of sermons sung
and versus not forgotten,
yet buried under the misery of betrayal's semblance
Remember
Meekness
Patience
Temperance
Gentleness -
These are healing balms
From the palms of Gilead
In symbolic remembrance
Of the one whose palms hold the bonds of light
Which people transmit -
Who submitted His will
And became Grace itself.
These are sermons sung
And versus not forgotten,
And my shaking soul
Left lifting its melodies
In search of the harmony that will
Someday heal its scars.
I am the lamb
written into each palm.
I am the woman
who draws from His healing balm.
I am the human
whose imperfections only grace can heal
into sacred psalms of eternal calm.
I am
the lamb of
I am -
The only way
the only truth
the only life
the only one.
Tear drops roll down my cheeks.
Blessed with mirror-touch synaesthesia!
Claircognizant empaths - inflame my aphasia.
I know, I know - the die is cast!
Eh! Still words - pierce through my silent heart.
Leave me – leave me!
I need time to talk with my soul.
For no one knows – why!
Why emotions welled up so high?
How would you know - the reason behind my sigh!
And why such deep grief and frown?
And why the frozen sea melted down?
And the pain behind my collapsing castle!
How intense is my tussle!
Yeah! How would you know?
What I just lost was my holy grail!
All I need is solitude to sail!
Heavens reflection therein in each soul’s expansion,
interior senses from the celestial grace extension.
That child of hearts affection
contented stillness realm protection.
Tender steps pursuing with rapture wild,
embrace and enfold in that innocent child.
Splendid light keep rolling past,
souls draw bounding from that vast.
From spheres beyond strange land and more,
inherited Genius from that shore.
In that large recompense and sunny blue,
creating lovers gentle pasture new.
To give itself the gift as bound to be free,
the healing hands as giving be.
Compassionate bowls of fierce desire,
the holy grail filled with liquid fire.
That mighty power in command,
reaching beyond that gifted hand.
Eyes that speak that reverend face,
sparks of divinity to embrace.
Courteous fate in all of there,
when truth becomes the wholesome fare.
The seeming echo in refined senses,
gem of purest nature consequences.
Earths tomb and parting souls lingering to look behind,
pleasing spirits elegy resigned.