Long Harbor Poems
Long Harbor Poems. Below are the most popular long Harbor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Harbor poems by poem length and keyword.
Slithering and Creeping Along the Moonlit Path
Where Dark Desires Permeates the Hidden Caverns of My Heart
An Enchanted Road, A Supplicant Ritualist Journey
Beyond the Seas of Perpetual Agony
Confronting Sinister Vices In the Canyon of Piteous Wails
Seeking The Crossroads of Equilibrium Where Virtue Prevails
This Path Navigates the Depths of My Soul Harbor
Abode to My Grotesque Daemons Balanced by Angels of Blissful Splendor
Goddess Luna, Witness to Submission and Surrender
Mystical Luminary With Her Reflective Glow
Reveals the Doorway Pillars of Emerald and Gold, Arch of Ivy Hanging Low
Precept by Precept Steps on the Battened Cobbled Stone Road
Paved with Desire, Despair and Hope Inward Pilgrimage To the Moon Sage's Abode
For I Am a Wanderer of The Dark Night, Purposely Endowed
Untangling Threads to Complete My Soul's Contract I Vowed!
Hecate Whispers Songs My Shadows Sing
Of Liberation, Perfection, Growth and Healing.
Within this simple garden
So many flowers bloom,
Displaying colored banners;
Inviting love anew
Be wary as you travel
Past countless painted hues,
For every blossom beckons,
Yet only one you'll choose
Some harbor thorn and thistle
Beneath their slender stems,
Appearing soft and harmless
Until you reach for them
Some feign to be so friendly
And smile up at the sun,
But hide their yellow faces
When wrathful storm is come
Still others shine and sparkle
To capture you with awe,
But at the season’s ending
You will find only straw
And yet there is one flower
That differs from the rest;
It stands alone and waiting
In search of love that’s best
If you can see her standing
Amid deceitful forms,
Bend low to pick this treasure –
A flower with no thorns.
when i pass
i will linger on in a few memories
a few nanoseconds in man's history
place no stone above me
with some name easily forgotten
never bury me in the earth
in some hollowed-out cavity
waiting for some delusional day
when cemeteries reach some prophecy
looking like a Wack-A-Mole celebration
cremate me and scatter the ashes
in some pleasant meadow
where i may luxuriate in bathing
in the Bose-Einstein condensation
as the sun rises with the solar wind
perchance an ash lights upon a blossom
a bee gathers pollen
i cling to its toil and escape in flight
hither and dither on the hives path
let me spend a full moon
in silvery shadows that dance
amidst the mockingbirds' song of the night
or rejoice in a tempest roaring
as the trees dance in God's metronome
His power dancing across the sky
in a glorious burst of light
please a meadow of promised halcyon days
where the mortal is scattered in gratitude
of what was so miraculous
to touch, to see, to taste, to smell
blessed with the senses
yet the grandest of them all
for i was given an entitlement
graced with the gift to love
in that first breath was my eternity
when the sun runs dry and expands
all have perished at Jupiter's gates
let my mortal existence return
from which it sprang
the fruition of that breath is home
where space and time harbor no path
where it was commanded
let there be light
OKC 9/22
In the melancholic depths of my heart, I harbor a secret,
A syllabic enchantment, sweet as a Shakespearean sonnet;
A secret so delicate, if revealed, it would melt you,
Its sweetness would seep into you, its pulsating passions
Would make you dream and leave you yearning, with lips bitten by desire.
Within my heart, I conceal a secret of grandeur,
As grand as the reason the Taj Mahal stands;
Yes, if you dared to embrace it, you'd be enveloped by its essence,
You'd yearn to dwell within it, to have for yourself,
A unique monument, a testament to eternal love.
In the shadow of my heart, rests a profound secret,
As deep as the night itself, illuminated only
By the brilliance of a single sparkling moon;
A moon that radiates because it has closed its eyes,
Unable to retain its blush as I unveil
My hidden secret through endless, flowing poetic verses.
In the corners of my heart, lies a moving secret,
Like an epic love song, resonating through the ages;
A love song so powerful and rhythmic, when played,
It would draw tears from your soul,
Unveiling long-lost emotions, making you feel alive,
Humble, kind, and filled with compassion.
In the sanctuary of my heart, I guard a mystical secret,
One so ethereal its meaning is found in the divine,
One so fated its purpose is etched by the gods,
One so wondrous, destined to be written someday,
In a tome titled "The Story of My Life."
This heart of mine, a tapestry of shadows and light,
Holds the secret of a thousand stars,
A celestial narrative whispered through the cosmos,
A mystical flame, dancing eternally across the ages,
An epic carved into the sigh of the universe,
Awaiting its revelation in the sacred script of time,
A secret that transcends the mortal coil, an eternal truth,
Wrapped in the delicate fabric of immortal love.
Fullness in Emptiness 5-4-26
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Fullness in Emptiness
Emptiness clothed in humility
Hears the flowing invitation
Hollow space tires of frost's futility
A parched field begs for implantation.
Vines awake filling this empty space
As springtime dances through her arbors
Sweet grape clusters quivering, with grace,
Hear the earth's song in their snug harbor.
Roots nourished by warm rains understand
The vibrant language of the rich soil
A vineyard grows into the heart's land
Blessed by the summer's essential oil.
Soil and vine entwine in sweetest bliss
When autumn leaves their wine with a kiss.
I only tell of sunny hours…
For me the trail of time disappears
in the depth of darkness at sundown,
but my mind doesn’t harbor any qualm,
I dream drenched in stardust of stellar sky…
I’ll trace the blazing heliacal trail
across another dazzling day waiting.
Let the beam of each new sun
slip on time-telling edge of your style,*
count the tides of time on the dial of life.
The chronology of your journey I’ll chronicle
as the defined shadow of soul revolves
around the static centre of timelessness
till it glitters in bliss eternal.
Watch with me the girdle of rotating time,
you’ll see the dawn open petals of wisdom,
in the best of times you’ll live the sunny hours…
(Note : *style is the edge of the gnomon which casts a
shadow on the sundial)
Written : February 4, 2019
April 13, 2020
Contest : Strand Pick 11, Any Theme, Any Form
Sponsor : Brian Strand
The story is told of a Maori King bold
Who dared cheat the Prince of Siam.
I’ll leave it to you to decide if its true.
But if you're not convinced, at least I am!
This king was annoyed so he filled his bored void
By selling the fauna of his wee land.
He soon grew in fame, none dared speak his name,
He was the richest in all of New Zealand!
But this roll could not last; the fates swooped in fast
With an invoice for arrogant King Frodo!
A prince of yon borders sailed in with his order
For a half dozen snakes and some Dodo.
“The snakes are all gone!” Frodo said with a yawn.
"And we ate the last Dodo last week!”
Thus the king blew him off with a wave and a scoff;
“Look elsewhere for that which you seek!”
But the prince had prepaid! And he screamed out in rage,
“What is that in the cage with the hasp?”
King Frodo’s eyes narrowed, “I won that from Pharaoh,
And that, that’s a two-headed asp!”
“And though its not fair, it is simply too rare,
Now be off or I’ll soon have your head!”
But the prince made this threat, “Dear King you’ll regret!”
Then he left leaving Frodo to dread . . . . . . .
At daylight’s first gleam, you could hear Frodo scream
As he raced to the harbor to spy,
And lo, by the pier was a note on a spear . . .
“Keep my gold! . . . But kiss your asp goodbye!”
For the "Asp" Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Slausen
May 7, 2018
10th Place
This journey fraught of desperate dreams
Within the grip of swelling grays
The Southern Cross astern now shines
Ever close of darkened bays
Adrift of lost and endless times
Sails now hoist, direction’s wind
I hear the angry waves a’ crash
Spume does touch my worried skin
Tempest waters come to lash
This journey fraught of desperate dreams
To reach the one that I adore
Of echoed voices calling me
And compass points of distant shore
Fear shall not my face to run
To fight this wrathful storm I will
Hoping for the morning sun
With calmer seas so ever still
When dawn, I pray on bleeding knees
Does find your arms about my chest
With kisses sweet of anchored pleas
To whisper I have met my quest
And found my love for once and all
By harbor light and North Star way
Your heart, my destined my port-o-call
Never more to sail away
My length of walk?
From origin as work
Defines energy in momentum
Obstruction is capable mathematics from here
On in the document
As sun crests new yorks harbor
In California I awaken to writing, publishing
Shower of body is not reachable
Nor the causeway of commerce
Food procurement
The framers cannot be gained by days end
Patterning a fold....this is that budget measure
Finish map with lifeline tent
Proximity build 1
Mean median and mode
Q factor constraints
Point a nearest origin (highways and bus)
Lag halts at commercial district mid service station
Janns road complex
Patience and safe space for respite and last words
Small portion control point of obstruction to prosperity
3189 characters left
These messages are being captured and archived in compliance with the Presidential Records Act or the Federal Records Act.
No money there
She trains coming
Circle homes, begging nothing
Waiting, reading, instructions, go! No?
Gotta, can't the jog
Moving in? With/while going out
2nd application note, pencil in me
Successful spy, avoid partnership
Partner with news ship
Next worry district going away
Reach and change rent appointments
Losing let down tap, taps
Taste of upstairs
Still in process of fold and arrive
Arrive greets and seats
Picture of joy
Joy of arrivals
Shuffle of gamble deposits
And loans to room matings
New officer of bank?
Sliding on staircases of banking exit
A vice president on the cover page?
In this cluttered attic of my mind,
I harbor so many memories of Daddy.
The ones that make me smile
and those that hurt are inextricable.
He was hard on my siblings and me.
Oh, he was never physical, but his words
often made us wish for the belt instead.
How many times did he wither us—
and Mom!—with scornful, demeaning
words? Why? Mom prepared a meal that
was less than perfect. We kids forgot a
chore or made below 90 on test, . . .
Dad’s need for perfection extended beyond
our household. More than once, he lashed
out at the local grocery store owner:
“There are a few slightly dented cans on your
shelves! Do you expect people to buy these?!”
I mentioned smiles. The few times he
bragged on me—Good job, Son—
I felt like a King, and I smiled for days,
no matter what else transpired during that time.
Memories of Dad were all formed by
Christmas Eve when I was thirteen.
He left “to get a few last-minute presents,
so you kids can’t go.” We haven’t seen him since.
We noticed suitcases and his belongings
were gone.
We’ll never know exactly why he left. At first,
we blamed ourselves; we couldn’t measure up.
He left behind his family, like dented cans on shelves.
I wonder if we ever cross his mind.
FICTION
February 4, 2021
Contest Title: Break My Heart, Why Don't Cha?
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh