Long Hum Poems
Long Hum Poems. Below are the most popular long Hum by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hum poems by poem length and keyword.
Murmur ambience above the endless
horizon freewheel briny breeze filled sea.
Nascent movements from their shells come to be
unfurled winks, life beating hearts is timeless.
Calm hums over the ocean and appease
the emotional storm; where bright blue sky
meets the indigo sea, cap speechify
sea foam waves roll into shore shortly ease
before moving back into the sea depth.
With a deep breath of woven weariness
emerge with no utter rebuff weakness
white salt spray in its size and greatest breadth.
Gems of life marine mammals, coral, fish,
turtles, seabirds, rays, octopus, and starfish.
8/13/2019
Poetry Contest: 'Your best sonnet July-December 2019'
Sponsored By: John Hamilton
Softly she slumbers, a vision to see,
A smile on her face, serenity.
No worries or cares, no troubles in sight,
Just peaceful repose, a gentle delight.
Her snores, a gentle hum, a sweet serenade,
Cute and girlish, a symphony to aid,
My heart beats faster, my love grows anew,
In this moment, my heart belongs to you.
Though I may be nothing special, unworthy of her grace,
She sleeps beside me, a precious, trusting embrace,
Her beauty shines brighter, even in repose,
A treasure to behold, a heart that overflows.
Oh, how I'm captivated by her slumbering form,
A beauty so uncommon, a love that's sworn,
In this quiet hour, I vow to adore,
This sleeping beauty, forevermore.
Har haal mein hum behaal rahe
Gham-e-jaan se har dam ndhaal rahe
Tumhari chahat ki rahguzar mein
Kabhi khaak, kabhi paimaal rahe
Na khwab bane, na taabeer mili
Bas azaab hi azaab ke hamaal rahe
Dhoop sehte guzargayi sadiyaan
Shab-e-hijr ke hi sawaal rahe
Mohabbat ke saahil bhi door the
Aur dil ke toofaan be-zawaal rahe
Shajar-e-umeed ka saaya na mila
Hum faseel-e-gham ke kamaal rahe
Jo charaagh jalaye the aarzu ke
Wahi aandhiyon mein bemisaal rahe
Rah-e-wafa mein the zakhm beshumaar
Phir bhi hanste rahe, lajawab rahe
Humne socha tha dil ka dard sunayein
Magar lab pe qufl, aur sawaal rahe
Har shaam ne tanhai ka zehar diya
Har raat ke geet bhi malaal rahe
Melding with the vast universe,
in monk mode, we compose a verse;
why would we strive, struggle or strain,
when hum of bliss be soul’s refrain.
Love in love with love, is God’s call,
that who we are, we may recall;
pure hearts God’s love and light ingrain,
when hum of bliss be soul’s refrain.
Resting overthinking disease,
like a child, we’re again at ease;
thought flow ceases, now rests our brain,
when hum of bliss be soul’s refrain.
Upon surrendering our will,
when we be still, voids within fill;
staid silence plugs energy drain,
when hum of bliss be soul’s refrain.
Nothing need be done, come undone,
knowing that God and we are one;
fears and desires, are to rest lain,
when hum of bliss be soul’s refrain.
Detached - Even Circuits Hum
A Music Video
As twilight turns to tangled thought,
and truth tiptoes down trembling streets.
Once, wonder serenaded willowed winds
now shadows embrace muted retreats
Wary hearts weave walls so wide
against a faceless, coded tide,
while glowing grids in distant bays
bloom haunting weaves they won't embrace
Dualistic stars and digital dawns
Cinematic cradles human ache,
but some still long for candle flames,
and fingerprints the codes can't fake.
Dreading the hushed holograms,
the warmth that AI cannot wear.
Forgetting that even circuits hum
with aspirations hidden there
If only we could sense serenity
Pulsing between each quiet stream—
Machine or muse, to earnestly strive
for something more than just a dream
We could wildly dance on data plains,
where algorithms tap like rain.
let compassion code our names,
and poetic lines rewire the pain.
The muse may wear a mirrored face
But still, she sings with glowing grace.
When the talented digital artist AIMetamotion approached me to create a song that would complement her stunning artwork, I was immediately inspired. The result is 'Detached', a haunting track that tells the story of a robot grappling with the overwhelming flood of emotions brought on by a sensory chip—a concept not so far-fetched, given the rapid advancements in AI technology.
Though she sings her ironically titled anthem of detachment, the visuals tell a different story. Her struggle is evident, her resistance almost poetic, hinting at the complexity of emotion even in synthetic form.
This is just the beginning. A sequel is already in the works, diving deeper into her journey. The question remains: will she finally succumb to the surge of feelings she desperately tries to reject, or will she find a way to break free?
Stay tuned...
What are these symbols? Letters? Ink?
Holding the meaning of what we think?
If I had been born in a different time,
Lines of writing would not fill my time.
I may have grunted with purpose that led
To all the words that have been said.
I may have hummed with feeling that drew
From sentiments I knew as true.
I may have hummed with a sing-songy tune,
Spoke to my children by light of the moon.
Now there is language, helpful and tricky.
Some of the things that we hear become sticky.
Is much of it useful? Much of it nice?
To receive in the morn when we haven’t thought twice?
Cleverly used and in most complex ways,
What is it actually trying to say?
Maybe the grunt and the hum as of yore,
Would help us remember what we knew before.
Ho-hum, another war lost
We should have won
Our new partner for peace ~ the Taliban
Ho-hum, a new school year
First semester's curriculum
Learn whom to FEAR
Ho-hum, we're going all-electric
While 'Mr. Green President'
Begs Russia ~ Pump more oil! Protet us!
Ho-hum, California burns
The no-win solution
Gavin Newsome returns
Ho-hum, Chicago's locked down
No, it's not Covid
It's a murderous town
Ho-hum, soaring inflation
I can still sleep ~ My paycheck's
Indexed to tax machinations
Ho-hum, another day closer
To beckoning the invading hoardes
Come over ~ Here are the keys ~ Take over
What have Tests become
Not really a conundrum
The game’s true fulcrum
To beach bum humdrum
Cricket now plays dumb
Kowtow to cash cow scum
To T20 aplenty did succumb
Moolah the ruler in this slum
Seduced reduced simulacrum
Absurd but heard the word’s still mum
Batters in tatters another LBW plum
Chickens no bantam baby tantrum
Same silly song will willy nilly strum
A dastardly turns bastardly doldrum
Forget regret best bet rule of thumb
Rank dank stank so glum & then some
Beat the drum or Tests simply overcome
Stark dark depths these guys lies do plumb
No comfort for our sport not even a crumb
Our sort annoyed destroyed in Pink Floyd void
In perverse parallel universe worse is to come
So ho hum reeling feeling “uncomfortably numb”
I'm heading home after five
humming to myself quietly;
I've missed the December' sunset by an hour,
Christmas lights sparkle, folks greet each other:
hear the joy in their voices!
Jesus will end their worries:
they will thrive, not strive!
Naughty boys laugh at Bozo, he has
red hair and long feet;
he marched in the Halloween Parade
and played his drum with a fast beat!
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
Show them you are in a happy mood,
don't be afraid of being booed and hissed!
Carols take the dullness away,
and they replace it with cheerfulness:
take your trumpet, your guitar,
or just hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly...
feel inside serenity,
listen to golden bells
ringing joyfully!
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
Peter is the new Santa with a white beard,
his favorite visitor is Reed;
look around the corner: there goes funny Elf!
Scrooge grins, he's all for himself:
stay away, don't laugh;
Greedy Scrooge is afraid of Christmas ghosts!
Dickens knew him well:
a guilty conscience won't let
won't let anybody sleep;
everyone expressed ingratitude
to someone who was cheap and rude,
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly,
and despite all: be very merry;
oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly:
see snowflakes falling,
and festive kids running!
The frosty evening holds a magical spell,
the whole universe praises Jesus!
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
David understood
the mysteries of the Heavens,
faith is the only stronghold of the weak;
songs are the humble gifts of the meek!
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly...
walk around: who happy, who's sad?
Ah, many don't have
the strength that faith gives,
walk with the Good Shepherd
and make him your friend:
glory will be yours
of you proclaim Him
your King and shield!
Hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
I'm heading home
humming to myself quietly,
decorations are pretty;
snow and silence charm
and together
with the Christmas music,
we'll disarm
each woeful feeling inside:
let the Jule season bring us more joy!
Carols are played everywhere:
will they warm up all the cold hearts
in the crowded square?
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
P.S. The track of my song is posted on CloudSound.com
In the quiet hum of the café, beneath the dim, flickering lights,
The Poet sat, a relic of past ambitions, his soul adrift in the sea of his thoughts.
The Muse, with gentle and understanding eyes, brought him his coffee,
Her gaze, a fleeting touch of divinity amid the cold machinery of life.
Her kindness, a fragile thread in the tapestry of his existence,
A momentary glimmer in the shadows that swirled within him.
Life, he mused, was a relentless dance with troubles,
An endless waltz where every step led to another snare.
He had understood this truth, not from books or sages,
But from the raw, unfiltered experience of living,
From the grind of daily monotony, the suffocating embrace of routine.
Forty-eight years, and he was weary — a deep weariness that crushed his soul.
The poetic pursuit, once a ladder to transcendence, now a prison of words and silence,
Each verse, a reminder of deception, each stanza, a cage for his spirit.
The thrill of secret inspirations, once intoxicating, now a bitter aftertaste,
The readings, the celebrations, mere masks for the emptiness within,
Every accolade for every poem, a shackle that bound him tighter.
He had walked away, seeking freedom in the void,
But found that nothingness had its own weight,
An invisible burden that crushed him just as surely.
Isolation had come, a severing of ties that left him adrift,
And melancholy, a temporary solace, soon became another chain.
The Poet sipped his coffee, the warmth a fleeting comfort,
And reflected on the roads he had traveled, the choices he had made.
In his mind, the dream of a gentler path, a middle way,
Where neither the hustle nor the destitution reigned,
But such a road seemed an illusion, a phantom in the mist.
So here he sat, between the past and an uncertain future,
A soul stripped of pretense, raw and vulnerable,
Seeking meaning in the simple act of drinking coffee,
The Muse's kindness, a balm for his wounded soul,
Her eyes a reminder that even in the depths of despair,
Divinity could still shine through, a beacon in the night.