Long Gravitation Poems

Long Gravitation Poems. Below are the most popular long Gravitation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gravitation poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member I walk in the shadow

I shore up my doubt, behind a loosely bound hope 
Which in turn is propped up without foundation
Cynical of a life, at the mercy of luck
Collateral damage feeds my reservation 

I shore my up tomorrow with what I see today 
Without conspiracy or investigation 
I place trust in all that’s completely unfettered 
For fear, I’m left to this present resignation 

I shore up my life with whatever came before 
Not hindsight or academic education 
The oblivion traversed until I was born 
Strings along primal echoes of information 

I shore up my conscious with bliss and ignorance 
Interspersed with indifference on occasion 
It’s not I don’t care about suffering and death 
Rather, I’m desensitised by their pervasion

I shore up my denial with an open mind 
Which is nothing except raw interpretation 
This planet spins correctly, even though tilted 
Not by wishful thinking, but strange gravitation 

I shore up my boredom, trying to fall asleep 
When really tired, will attempt hibernation 
Anything to forget this human condition 
After remembering, I’m long past salvation 

I shore up my heaven, by creating a hell
Balance looks more appealing, in an equation 
Gaze upon purgatory, and share what I see
Not because I’m kind, it’s more my destination 

I shore up my poem by claiming it’s my own 
But in truth, it’s an open collaboration 
I conspire with the musings of all that’s unclear 
They dwell inside me, in flawless aberration 
       
         -        -       -      -      -      -      -

(And as the sky darkened I heard these words)

better to face hell alone ~ than bring the whole world along for the ride 

said the moon eclipsing the sun ~ who replied son I’m right behind you 

By
David Kavanagh
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Hourglass 2

“Hourglass 2”
Written: By Tom Wright
VBS 2006

The sum of all life’s moments
Become yesterdays once they’re spent,
We oft cast eyes hinder and ponder
Where the fractions of each day went;

Forthwith, we’re left with more todays
Embodied by nameless hours at hand,
While the gravitation of life’s hourglass
Methodically trickles and lessens our sand.

But should God grant us tomorrow
It too, will be doomed to our past,
As the sand of the glass keeps dwindling
Until God declares one grain our last.


The person that once we were, passed yesterday,
And the person we currently are was born today;
Each tomorrow grants us the opportunity to be born again.
Tom
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Twilight

Twilight

One evening we reflect on the illusion of time as the shadows grow longer
  fire and passion twinkles in our eyes to guide us through befriended night
    the time has come for candles incense evening song soft tender touches

From whence me met the bond of love emerged and cultivated ever stronger   
  launched our intermingling journey's shelter guidance rather miraculously alight
    together we ascended out of lonely days and nights rejected twilight’s judges

Our inner compass navigated by the waxing moon’s unison pulled us to wander
  in wonderment one-sightedness’ gravitation pushed open luscious sensorial delight
    we played before and after dusky dawn and musky pleasures erased all smudges

Of the past while we forgave but not forgot chose to enjoy and not to squander
  each light and every angle lens perspective to melt our stories to relive rewrite
    as ‘Kairos’ passes ‘Chronos’ streams of consciousness while Cosmos watches

Kindness togetherness hungry craving adoration in abounds that knows no yonder
  with life a thoughtful feeling’s pleasure cruise flowing with tides no struggle’s fight
    one evening waits and wrinkles paint condense come walking frame or crutches

Our skin will peel and show our age in timeless time but we travel fond and fonder 
  fondle caress our heartfelt minds and mating souls our grateful passage in full sight
    in infinite eternal sanctum solemn homebound prayer until and when the reaper clutches

22nd September 2016
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Snowflake


On powdered crystal wings Heaven descends to humbled Earth
Sparkling glimpses of jewelled treasures to some elegant worth
Pure, immaculate white no matter the depth to coming twilight
Billowing through myriads of veils, all fingerprints in first flight

She now dares to fall where she must, from dream in flutter
Dancing delicately...Swirling...Twirling into suddenly crisp hover
Shifted...Swayed...She enthralls my leaping, dizzying fascination
Like no other before, I marvel as she defies hurling gravitation

Intricate kaleidoscope of spirals linked and apart
Glittering feather like you float to repose my heart
Scintillating fragile, beauteous rays, my Dear always
Imparting uniqueness my touch never in time betrays
Form: Rhyme

The Illuminate Faces of Time

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIxWCitIH-E&t=74s


The whole wide world is one giant clock a face of illuminate loveliness,
the dial is a shadow forever nonchalant, passing through each day
invisibly each night, the human race sleeps/discerns, tick tock, tick tock, 
oh the pulse, oh  the vibration, oh that spring coil of gravitation,
careful not to over wind it,  as the celestial key turns, tick tock, tick tock 
the whole wide world is one giant clock, a face of illuminate loveliness;
This wholesome world is a ball of fire , we are the salt of the earth 
mile after mile we trudge towards existence though nothing can allay 
the cravings of the soul better then life itself, tick tock,  tick tock, 
Providence takes us by the hand so there is no need to apprehend, 
catch and release the wind its all about push n' pull, tick tock, tick tock 
the entire world is one giant clock, illuminated by the handles of time. 
Tick tock, tick tock,  don't blow this time. xo xo 

Written by: Harry J Horsman   & Mystic Rose      
"A special thanks goes to Harry for this precious collaboration" 
/5/2020


Premium Member Improbable Cookies

Returning home, you walk inside,
Awaken the olfactory.
There, resting on the countertop
Are cookies baked for all to see.

Your mind leaps to the obvious:
The signs all tell a story clear.
No baker did assemble these;
‘Twas happenstance that put them here.

Although no other evidence
Is satisfying in the whole,
The flour spilled from the canister;
An earthquake dumped it in the bowl.

Although we were at first confused,
We understand the eggs as well:
They teleported from the fridge,
Just yolks and whites, without the shell.

The gravitation of the moon
Combined with a solar eclipse
May have opened up a bag,
Contributed the chocolate chips. 

An aftershock of magnitude
Somewhere between a five and six
Quite possibly could agitate,
Produce a firm dough from the mix.

The fluctuations in the lines 
Of magnetism from the poles
Could open up the oven doors
And set the proper heat controls.

Although this last may seem a stretch,
Our statistician ascertained
A bird could grab some dough like eggs,
Drop on the pans, and then again.

The only step that would be left:
A thunderstorm with static spark
To heat those cookies up just right,
Awaiting your return at dark.

I know the chance of this is small,
But we’ll not dwell, no, mum’s the word.
What other option is there now?
This talk of bakers is absurd…
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

The Human Experience

The Human Experience is beyond difficult, 
Of the utmost difficulty. 
Connect or be doomed to isolation, which is of benefit but never permanent. 
Experience vulnerability or live in coldness and hardened spirit, both with happen. 
We have no choice in nor can escape from participating in community. 
There is no community without variables and under layers. 
Factors, angles or fractions of each other, mirrored but in no way the same. 
Small pieces gliding, overlapping, gravitation away then returning.
An endless loop of beautifully terrible divine fabrics, of time and space, weaving, ripping apart and reuniting. 
The lenses shift from rose to apocalyptic, the human physical plane a combination of...
But with Hope as the driver, 
We yearn for a balanced vision through sight.

Premium Member Wild Domicile

I prefer my home and family buttoned down
rather than too wild and disorderly,
disheveled and irrational.

I prefer natural order
and shades of color
and dialects
and economic/political vocations
and sequential rules of nutrition-producing order,
and yet wonder, too.

I have been hurt by too much wild
struggling against my too much gay
internal loss of homophobia,
struggling with We fear and Me anger
about my too-wild sexuality,
might self-recruit toward loving bisexuality,
poly and/or meta-sexuality,
a co-arising ecopolitical co-gravitation
without fear and anger lose/lose boundaries
might open my closed-pen 
toward boundless win/win love.

Too wild
these fears and angers scare me,
preferring my home and family
more panentheistically transformed
to integrally button down
our polypathic sacred wild.

Premium Member To Medicate Or Not Medicate

Depression hits hard like a tsunami wave, 
 threatening my house, welcoming the grave. 

 Should I thrive on my daily medication, 
 or survive, unaided, gravitation?

 Should I deny myself of natural lows, 
 because they're so intense, like violent fist blows? 

 Should I be an altered version of me, 
 one sedated, less complicated, carefree? 

 Is this an effective alleviation, 
 or is there a possible toleration? 

 Would pills create chemical fences 
 that weaken my natural defenses? 

 Can I still empathize if I don't feel pain? 
 What lasting effect will this have on my brain?     

 Should I forfeit assistance from an upward shelf, 
 to be my indifferent, bipolar self?          

 Should I let my known weakness sometimes reign, 
 or spare myself of avoidable pain?  

 Should I grieve joy's seasonal cessation, 
 as my heart freezes from sun deprivation? 

 Should I undulate to the beat of the moon, 
 eagerly awaiting its fullness' resume?

 To medicate or not medicate? --- 
 the question of old, the question of late. 

 The question begs like dessert on a plate. 
 Is it devil's food or angel cake?
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member An Apple

       
                   An apple a day makes you happy, gay.
                   Delicious, juicy, fleshy nutritious.
                   Choose apple daily for healthy to stay.
                   As a fruit an apple is marvelous.
        
                    An apple is reservoir of wisdom               
                   achieved by First Lady Majestic Eve.
                  She shared half with obedient Adam.
                  Everybody will agree to believe.

                  Apple taught Newton Law of Gravitation
                   Free fall of apple made him curious.
                  Apple bound to fall on Earth's attraction
                   Apple taught scientist to think serious.

                An apple a day, keeps the Doctor away.
               If the Doctor be pretty or handsome,
                She or He must visit without delay.
                 Leave the apple for Doctor to welcome.
Form: Sonnet

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