Long Harp Poems
Long Harp Poems. Below are the most popular long Harp by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Harp poems by poem length and keyword.
In my veins flows ink and verse,
I was born with words to rehearse,
My blood, a symphony of rhyme,
My heart, a rhythm all the time.
When sober, my mind is sharp,
My pen dances with each harp,
But when I'm drunk, my spirit flies,
The ideas flow like a stream that never dies.
My muse is a bottle of wine,
With every sip, I enter a new line,
I write of love, of pain, of joy,
Each thought a treasure, no need to deploy.
For in my blood, poetry reigns,
My soul sings with each refrain,
I'm a poet born to make hearts weep,
My words a lullaby for those who sleep.
Let me drink, let me be free,
For in my drunkenness, I'm the key,
To a world of beauty, a world of art,
A world where words can heal a broken heart.
©Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S????
Heaven-sent on dove’s whitest wings,
unique beauty of nature sings
with cottony clouds and harp strings
gushing out crystal sparkling springs.
Its magic an enchanting tease
as music floats down with the breeze.
Subtle nostalgic melodies
whisper God’s clear cathartic pleas.
Life bursts forth with a childlike glee
in earth, in sky, and on the sea.
My heart and soul cavorting free,
playful caresses cover me.
Divine musings flow from my soul,
when in the woods, I take a stroll
to purge me, cleanse me and console,
heaven-sent blessings make me whole.
**"And his name was Jack"**
No one perceives what abides above the clouds.
A giant, a harp, maybe golden eggs.
I demand to see and feel before I believe.
A castle, a dream…. I want the magic beans!!!
~~~
I'm the daughter of a farmer.
I have a donkey to ride, a story to tell.
“Jack and the Beanstalk” my favorite tale.
Once upon a morbid dawn.
I inhale a tiny simple yawn
Like the morning sun levitating over the farm,
I rise towards the village square to sell my ass
Along the open path, my ass and I desired a drink.
Near the rustic river,
I'd seen an old Englishman, sitting on a log.
It looked as if time was approaching his brink.
In his hand, he had a sack.
A bag, a bag, embroil of ivory and black.
His eyes were not from this ground.
His body fragile - it uttered a moaning sound.
He was of dirt.
I was pure.
He pledged his life to me.
I debated .... with many thoughts,
Although his eyes...
My eyes... Will never meet again.
"I want what's in the bag!"
In a gasp, he whispers,
"I'll give you anything for that ass.
my legs and bones can’t hold up on their own!”
I knelt down to where he sat
Smelling his essence of rot
I reached forward and grabbed his baggage
He griped, "This bag is all I got!"
I answered, "And this sir is a fine ASS!"
He replied, "I have no cash."
Scowling at him, “NO I want your demon seeds!"
My blood grew thin...
Inhaling and exhaling - his sin
The old man all shriveled and timeworn,
Proposed the birthright of the seeds.
"Yes, plant them! Plant them!"
I cried excitedly!
He pats the field.
Said "there I am done,
now clock as it expands"
To breed this story short...
He dispenses his seeds.
AND, I GAVE HIM MY ASS.
BY;PD
Home is where the heart is they say...
Over the feeling of breaking apart today
My horrid hardships are like ships at bay
Essential essence of elegance emerge into effulgent efflorescence, I pray
Love will eventually conquer all our way
End the sorrow in our hearts day by day
Surreal serenity ashore hasn’t led me astray
Son of God saved me from hurting myself and he stays near my side like a kid with clay
I see a light of beauty and grace
Never felt negativity in His face
Hopeless as a harp string out of reach
Empty as a drum, yet strumming like a guitar in a gathering at the beach
Angst and anger erupt inside my mind...left me blind for so long — love is what I beseech
Road of recovery is far from here, for I’m homeless in heart for those who are of need and those who can’t speak their freedom speech
Tranquility and tribulation clash and teacher of the darkness — practice what you preach!
In the long shadows of the evening, when the light withdraws into a silent corner of the world,
I extend my hand toward the unknown, a white, cold, and empty hand,
A hand seeking to grasp the fragile meanings of existence,
Which become like violets, delicate, lost in the wind.
Oh, my eyes, your sparks have been extinguished in the darkness,
In the pale light of forgotten memories,
You open bare, without brilliance,
Wondering, what are the jasmines for, what sweet words can they still say?
Suns set over the cold silence of my heart,
Leaves rustle in the wind of memories, candles flicker out,
Harp strings move slowly, crystal dreams cracking,
Arms raised in despair, teeth clenched with lost desire.
The cries of the soul echo in the silence of the night,
And tears flow from veins that have known lost love,
I don’t know, I don’t know what purpose all these feelings serve,
I have burned my forehead on the pyre of unfulfillment, I have burned my innocence in the flames of betrayed hope.
The deepest intimacy, the highest hope,
Everything has turned to ash, my bread is ash, my yields are the wind,
I have burned my soil that once bore life, and I have burned my life-giving water,
And now, what remains for my weary soul?
Yes... these pages,
These empty pages await to weep silently before the universe,
In them, perhaps I could recount the story of my burnings,
In them, perhaps I will find the peace I seek in vain among the stars.
amare tumi Ashesh
Unending a bliss from you in me , mystic thy muse is such a sweet amen
quenched once, rejuvenated again, life reborn, endeared , again and again
So many valleys en carved so many river basins, trailing through delta ashore
My knickknack harp chanted your lungs to breathe beyond embellishment
so many times a chord for so many more
Patsy a churn, i yearn here to happen with my shenanigan, feeling t'was unanimous once more
With your divine an ode My soul sharer , wisdom retold , my reverie heart song
as the flight soaring high through rythm , rhyme and the ecstasy divine joys knew no bound
a handful of me
my catapult reverie
tantrum of my another may, my mundane trivial everyday,
and the bittersweet trouble belongs to me, only traveling back to me.
Tagoreweb : Artist : Singer : Moumita
Any leader who disturbs
the flow of water is a fake,
he'll change its course
to his own advantage
to burst in bizarre rage
and make the ground shake!
No child was more spoiled
than Pluto who lived
in a luxury, spacious palace,
where nothing was denied,
he roamed in it delighted by riches
and through wide and huge halls
a lazy son smeared
with excessive disgrace
became a derisive boy,
a glutton with easy concessions.
His mother Furies
who excuted vegeance,
spoiled him a lot,
he looks for meat
in a burning pot,
not releazing he left it
unattended to play the harp
staring at fileds stripped of crop!
Be clever than him,
don't let sheer vanity
be the reason of gluttony,
what is gathers is metal plated
with shimmeing gold;
it started with a silly whim.
Enimes has three powers
to punish vilains and criminals,
she did not attend to her child,
who become fat, truant and unsound!
Pluto, the spoiled child with an evil grin,
was honored with a cold planet,
no rain for abundat crops;
everything untouched by sunlight;
other planets have wonders,
this one has none in any given season!
She is a flesh devouring fairy who feasts on children
who dont' wash their hands and primp their toes
Darkly inclined she lives in the shadows, once bitten
you will turn as evil as her extra long snubby nose
Her name is Darkelina and she snickers to herself
she owns spidery fingers and her teeth are razor sharp
Sponge em' down, disinfect, scour them clean or else
she will cleave your little pinkie and stitch it to her harp
Darkelina Pixie-Meana thats what they call her Heh !
better wash it or hide it before she finds you child
Gloomy and morose with a dark disposition, its her way
better tuck them under the covers, for she is crazy wild
Beyond the twitch of night she can give you such a fright
shes got teeth with jagged edges, boy how she loves to bite !
"A grandma is someone who plays a special part in all the treasured memories we hold within our heart."
- Unknown
My grandma used to sing aloud
With a sweet voice, she was endowed
Clapping her hands, she used to praise
With a loud voice, praying always
My grandma used to smile a lot
I remember her on her cot
She loved to eat bananas ripe
And chocolates of any type
My grandma used to love us all
She loved to give us presents small
Sometimes toffee, sometimes money
She was the sweetest and funny
My grandma loved my dad so much
She had the softest wrinkled touch
She had a memory so sharp
Spreading God's love, she was His harp
My grandma is in heaven now
No more pain or a troubled brow
Someday soon, I will meet her there
What a hope! Such joy we will share!
23rd February 2023
For Constance La France's "Writing challenge - G words" contest
Topic chosen : Grandma
The Philosopher
He lives in a world without a world. He has only his universe in his mind
Contemplation, analysis, and meditation on life. He is alone – an objective
His mind is like a top lens, an analyzer laboratory, an ultra-sensorial scientist
Different from the humans’. His life is separated from the general being and life
Just live alone. Happy suffering loneliness. How can he live clearly with love?
It is not possible. Just watching the world, life, and the phenomena. It is possible
The philosopher walks in life, in the world, in his paths, in the woods’ paths
Contemplations, feelings of this life. Greatest, not a human like. Musings
Poor life, pure life. A philosopher has an unlucky and despised life. Victim soul
The philosopher sitting in life, in the world. The observed life runs before him
In his life, no luxury, no glittering. Motionless active contemplation is the reality
Time is one. No past, no future, no present. Just the time. The timeless time
Time without time. In the mind of the philosopher. Motionless observation
This is a special life, lifestyle. Like the gray bird. I call for that. The egret
But some are white. I just saw a few in the Welsh Harp. Loved this place
Philosopher
Restless Solitude
Philosopher
Lonely bird
Philosopher
Soaring Eagly
Philosopher
Lover gray bird
Philosopher
Illusion