Long Ignited Poems

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


Premium Member Aha Eureka

Remember when that flash of insight
last self-ignited in your expectant thoughts
blasting away the fog of uncertainty, complexity and doubt.
A sudden aha Eureka answer, pure, simple, so succinct, beautiful.
To some this flash of aha is called duration, or a blink. insight, acumen, Eureka!

But, my friend, how, why, when, where, do these Aha moments arise?
Can we conger up more for ourselves, fill a treasure cheat with insights?
Or is this quest a waste of time, as no treasure map exits. But does it? 
Can we ever know with what, and how, and when to cast the magic wand?
Does our search for meaning, inquiries lay the foundation?
Can we prepare the way ahead in some way or other?
Think back, my friend, did these gems 
always spring up unexpectedly, and what occurred beforehand?

These aha Euekas cannot be scheduled or delayed, 
cannot be snuck-up on, snared nor detected, 
cannot be forced out nor guaranteed to appear.
Euekas are not rewards for hard work, perhaps the opposite is true.
How often does lazy and shallow wader get the creative rewards.
Chance is never fair in its rewards for hard work.

Often, an Aha taps us on the shoulder, we are least expecting it, 
out of the blue, saying: "Look at Me. Look at Me". 
When gobbled up with glee, it washes over and transforms us. 
We are never be the same. It makes our day.
Does begging the question, ignoring the answers laid out
make it pop up from the soup into an inquiring mind?
Or does it appear when we raise questions to that have already been answered well?
Does it appear when we thin-slice the book to separate the leaves?
Often mistakes and errors have led to great breakthroughs
like penicillin, radioactivity, the color mauve and plastics.
What does this mean to you and your Aha Eureka pot of gold?
Should we be less careful, more observant for the unusual?

The Aha Eureka is a fleeting feeling, easily lost in the blink of an eye,
rampant, capricious, imperceptible, unbounded, elusive
like seeing something in the corner of the eye at dusk,
if you look straight at it, it's gone, look back again, it's there again.
For me it can be a matter of serendipity.
The more I see, the more I do, the more I explore, the more hits are triggered.
Many total restarts from scratch, often helps.
But, for me the one simple things
that works is lay me down to rest,
and to sleep on it!


Mother 1

I could recall some years ago
The day that sealed the  deeds of the deal
And dot the long journey  of nine months
In my calendar of the years
The same brought about the cry 
That started the journey  of my childhood…
What a honey of motherhood?
An answer to your heart cry
                                            
You were assisted and ushered 
Into the labor room 
Like my savior was accompanied 
To Gethsemane and went further
With the burden of sin of perishing souls
He bent His knees in prayers; 
He sweated blood

So you lingered 'un-angered'
With the burden of a baby boy
You genuflected in labor 
Fear with joy loomed in the air
Swimming in the ocean tides of the clouds
And I could see water dripping 
Down your cheeks and nostrils
All because of me

Could I see any one that flogged you? 
No! It's I beating you from within 
Not with cane but with pains
Like a sheep before its shearer
You journeyed between life and death
All because of me!
 
It would have been simple if that was all
But I could see 
Like two of your younger ones
Even of your daughter's age 
Shouting at you
Push! Push! Push!
Else you kill this baby
What ridicule leading a miracle?
All because of me!

Push! Push! Push!
That was their shout and cry
That ushered me into a new world
Right at their ward
That was not because they're wayward
It was a labor room

It was labor for you
That which ignited my favour
What a pain heralding a gain?
But it was like a pay to me
I took it for a ride but 
It was mother’s pride and joy 
I thought it was play
Until she smacked and spanked me

Yet they succeeded
As they persuaded you and encouraged you
Then and there with flow of water 
And pool of blood you pushed forth 
And you pushed through.
 
I thought it was a favour and for my good
Only to see her hand carried me 
As if she was all out to help
But it was only to cut the cord
While I held my hands together
Lost in the comfort and dream 
Of the cosy womb  
She took me out of the comfort zone
She smacks and spanks me 
Again, again, and again
She made me to cry and never cared to say sorry
But told stories

He's another boy, she said
Right there she baptized me 
Into a new world
She dragged that thing 
She called cot to your side
And placed me in it
Alone I was laid crying
And all she did was to laugh at me
Mum. Her white uniform belied her act

Dedicated to V.A Aderounmu.
© Fisayo  Aderounmu.2012
Form: Verse

Humanoids

Humanoids …
Machine people, we have them at our disposal.
I envy these soul less creatures for they as Angels
do not feel any kind of pain.
Our robot, Ed Burkye is a French guy,
the machine person, although
I do not feel comfortable 
with strange person in my home,
rolling in my direction ready to serve.
Now, I will have to endure them in the spaceship.
Ethical as always, hopefully unable to kill.
With them, we will build democracy, 
where people are no longer subject
to the will of governments.
Every life counts, all galaxies struggle for life
to witness its beauty, smartness and force.
Nature must is existence.
Conscious machines, great abstracted –
in unconscious state they travel.
These machine people can travel
through millions of years to distant galaxies,
cloning themselves on the way,
some for pleasure, some for business.
They are naturalists, artists or sick with politics.
“No criteria for bacteria,”
and even in multitudes they must strive
to be better, to be greater without lust,
but with power and perfection beyond trust.
They are interrupted
by the communiqué from Celestial Command. 
The voice is heard as from the loud speaker.
Gentlemen do not forget,
our purpose is to colonize
with the broader one to expand
the torch of life to other Galaxies.
Conquest of the universe for all humanity, 
which of course we represent.
Here three of them: Boson, Raptus and Polonius
are about to board the rocket for liftoff to Mars.
Boson to Raptus and Polonius as they walk to the rocket:
Soon, inexplicable Mars, empty as barren Earthly Moon
and the space above us, cold and lonely, 
obscure place will be our home for long.
They entered the rocket.
After the door had closed,-
they took their positions.
Boson started the rocket engine,
allowing liquid hydrogen to enter it.
Fuel was ignited and clouds of smoke
forcefully burst outside.
Inside of the rocket was shaking with huge vibrations,
cosmonauts were sitting as on a volcano.
The rocket with tremendous force had been lifted 
and flew into space accelerating,
entering orbital spaceflight,
until it reached escape velocity
at about eleven kilometers per second.
There is no distinction between top and bottom 
and weightlessness presented challenges 
to their organisms:
cardio-vascular, inner ears’ pains, 
weakness of psyche and severe illusions…
Form: Verse

Premium Member How Do Children Sleep At Night

It's a wonder young children still turn out all right
With the stuff that gets crammed in their heads every night.
Things like visions of sugar plum fairies and sprites,
Or a thousand tales of Arabian delights,
A frog who turns prince with a kiss from a lass,
A girl who goes dancing in slippers of glass,
A cow that gets high and jumps over the moon,
A crockery dish that elopes with a spoon,
A boy who can fly but refuses to grow,
A difficult girl who plants maids in a row,
A magician who wants to trade old lamps for new,
A woman so poor she must live in a shoe,
A waif who sells matches out in the cold,
A king who can touch things and turn them to gold,
A dog, an old woman, a cupboard that's bare,
A girl locked in a tower, a ladder of hair,
A magical wheel that spins gold out of straw,
A guy helps a lion with a thorn in its paw,
A girl wearing red visits grandma who's resting,
Finds a wolf in her nightdress and Granny digesting,
Three kids and a wardrobe, three men share a tub,
A brave tailor kills seven mean flies with a club,
An archer makes merry with men in the woods
While relieving the rich of their money and goods,
Kind huntsman, fair princess, a vain evil queen,
Seven dwarves, and a prince who gets caught in between,
Hateful fairy, a baby, a hundred-year snit
'cause her name's accidentally left off a guest list,
A piper who lures out of town rodent varmints,
An emperor with new but invisible garments,
A farmer's wife butchers three handicapped mice,
A house drops on top of a witch who's not nice,
While another with gingerbread children seduces
Then gets baked by some twins in her own savory juices,
A giant and a beanstalk, a cat who wears boots,
A wolf who's outfoxed by three pigs in cahoots,
A bad little boy who sticks fingers in pies,
And another of wood whose nose grows when he lies.

There are others, of course, far too many to mention,
But I hope these will serve to excite some attention.
With stories like these knocking 'round in their heads,
It's no wonder if kids toss and turn in their beds.
Yet throughout countless ages these stories survive,
Kids listen, and dream them, and still wake up alive,
No worse for having been charmed or affrighted,
Imaginations are stoked, little minds are ignited,
And continue to hold them in dear veneration
As they pass them along to the next generation.

These States United - Part Ii

How someone like you 
 
and me
 
could ever be
 
this forever free

Never say never

Ever
 
Oh say, can you see
 
this valiant righteous fight
 
of the tiny 13
 
against the giant gorgeous gallant might
 
of the Royal Crown
 

into that last gleaming
 
fluorescent
 
effortlessly seeming
 
twilight 
 
as American soldiers fell
 
and died
 
and their women 

and Lady Liberty

rang the bell
 
and cried
 
screaming
 
and the little ones 
 
so sound asleep
 
nestled in their bed
 
so peacefully dreaming
 
whilst their King 

while their King lay dead
 

Hear his deep voice echo over and over in your head
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said
 
as you lay there
 
missing and yearning
 
teaching and learning
 
freezing and burning
 
and tossing and turning
 
battledrums slow and become tribal
 
Yes, you too, remembers what he said:
 
"It is impossible to rightly govern a nation without God and the Bible"


 
So trumpeters blew and told 

their story
 
the drumboys rolled
 
out Old Glory
 
My God behold
 
Watch Old Glory
 
so dignified
 
unfold
 
Stars and Stripes 
 
thus signified

an Independence newfound
 

on Sacred, Sacred, Splendid, Sacred, Holy ground
 
Kneeling at ground Zero
 
Never forget
 
My, your, Our forgotten Hero

Ole' Father George pause and take a good look around
 
Ole' Father George steal the stars 
 
just this once

just in between
 
the glare of royal red rockets
 
and hand them to
 
the mighty 13
 
and the red stripes so soaked with blood
 
from our beloved Mother
 
across the pond

Sons no more, oh no, Mother 
 
There isn't any other
 

It’s me now - your new younger brother

Just passing through

the bright white rays of sunlight
 
into the big bold box of navy blue
 
into starry starry nights
 
Ole' Father George, our hopes ignited
 
Your legs so weary
 
Our dreams excited
 
Thank you, Ole' Father George
 
Thank you, God
 
God Bless These States United
© Ron Ryan  Create an image from this poem.
Form:


Sun-Block

SUN-BLOCK


Your sunset-sanctioned skin ignite melody to boredom world
Your gently pearling smile charm the attention of morning sun.
Your charmed souls burn in nuclear passion
To absorb the bombardment of your ink
You are the unsolved mystery of existence 
                
                By pd
The sunrises 10 feet off the ground
This place carried the eternal light I need for my soul to soar.
Like the clouds every poet brush away my blues with one simple smile
Writing ignited my heartbeat to flicker like a candlewick non-stop.
I hold that piece of puzzle that makes my existence complete
              
               
Elegantly you walk, Venus-like
Printing glory-of-gods on excited earth
Holding hostage your admirers' eyes
With your Gabriel-censored attire
You are truly the mystery of existence  
            
               By pd
My eyes I keep holding on tight.
Gathering dangerous looks, from every poets eyes.
Striking like a speed of thunder bolt, 
I fell weak like an addict to my admires streak of rays'
I'm the piece of puzzle that makes my own existence complete

Oh beautiful empress of poetry soup.
Wake thy muse and shake off the dust of block
Your fans are in inferno hunger of your welded words
Feed us again, your poetic meal that somersault the arrows of critic
For you are the unsolved mystery of existence    
 
                 By pd
A great source to gather the best light here on the soup.
I found my heart beating like a rush~ spontaneous 
Imaging every poem that helps me get lost in the moment
I wrote against and among the best to be like the rest
For I'm that unsolved piece of puzzle that makes my existence complete


You are kinder than nature, more hospitable than mother earth
Man and woman scramble for shelter in your cheerful hearts
For your contest, all thoughts erect pines of words
With rush of the sea storm
P.D. ((  Linda ))  is the unsolved mystery of existence  



                   By pd
Losing myself to reality, this is not like me to fall into deep.
Times maybe hard, not even a simple song to poet my mind.
The truth is, the sun has blinded me with love, and I have no SUN-BLOCK
Until my instincts tells me otherwise, I will find my way back to all my fans * true or not
I (IRMA~LINDA) am responsible for the happiness of my mysterious existence.


BY : JOSEPH & LINDA
For Pd's  collab with me contest

Prodigree 2


    


          O, elusive muse, mysterious and profound bruise,
you bewitch my soul, never to be found in the way of former use.
In your absence, I am left with bittersweet 
caramello pain,
forever longing for your ephemeral archery reigns, 
to stick your finger in and frost your tips, lips, hips.

With every plié, a heart skips a beat,
as feelings pirouette upon your rage
and bloodlust and cage.
Each soft tendu, a love story paged,
imbued with passion's fire, never to age.
But doth wrinkle rings around my heart like a chain, 
loosely at first.
Then comes your tools of torture,
your sandblaster-twirls deoxyribonucleiy 
amidst a dreamscape host given wage, 
unfurls, serpentor,
hyour body, an instrument 
for efficacies' grand gauge.
Through leaps and bounds, love's whispers 
take shape, like an hourglass shaken 
to be thrown to the Leviathan sea. 
Given over to the carcinogenie of winds,
carrying own lamp of photosins seeding plans.

Your occulant lids, occupancy Inn
unfolding a tale stolen from Wonderland 
with narrator mouth agape.
Like a hellmouth opened  revealing iron rows 
of oscillator teeth, of to then throe.
I know there is no escape, but surrenders 
oasiatic retreat of blue snows.
From your sire nyour cover of cape.
Spellbinding me to the elements 
like salt in the wound to taste and one to grow.

O, ballerina of love, your steps mesmerize,
evoking metamorphic fertiles,
lilypad touchstone monads of diodes and control pads and padded rooms of the matrixed "mad",
making us crystals of your rites,
constellate consulates of your Medusaic petrify, 
metamorphed from pieces of coal-
fitted for pressure, heat of becoming 
from your diamond bit drill.

But beneath the surface of t h i s-
frozen-heartless veneer,
y o u r c a r o m i n g d a r k n e s s
come to take me away-
lies a fire, a longing, a blaze yet unquenched
Ignited by the spark of hope, 
a steal cable between your wench
the yearning for warmth
worked by passion match.

There eyes an unaided flicker, 
Me, the Wicker-man
struggling against your vice grip,
your tangle of betrathed lisp.
I am tied by your poetry,
your visa drip, feminine W I C C A - Beltane slip
of slip.
A bridge too far, 
of golden vistas burning,
now, there is no return.
For me, only to find your drowning sea or burn.
art
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Significant Divine Interventions In My Life

Bestowed by God with faith according to Scriptures
I do strive to seek Him, begging for His guidance
Believing His wisdom, always perfect and right…
Divine intervention --- such I desire so well.

1985…
Toward college degree, yet away from my home
Scholarship gained along academic freedom
Yet Bible studies’ truth brought me to the Saviour…
Divine intervention --- my soul redemption set.

1991…
Alighting from the bus; then sprawling on the street
My body rested there… along that busy road
No vehicles passed by as I managed to stand…
Divine intervention --- the Lord guarded me well.

1996…
Teaching career flourished in great institution
Voluntary service versus secular job???
My choice must be resolved for full-time reaching-out…
Divine intervention --- The Master granted peace.

2003…
Ministry adjustments for orphanage venture
Government compliance and license to cope with
Another course-challenge; my heart yielded fully…
Divine intervention --- The Almighty gave joy.

2018…
Desirous for global poetry publication
My persistence fainted; but was soon ignited 
Since providentially, I came across PS*…
Divine intervention --- Sovereign endowment.

2019…
My Daddy wished to leave the hospital alive
Doctor handed waiver as prayer was fervent
No to euthanasia; yes, I loved Dad so much…
Divine intervention --- Creator took him home**.

2021…
Our special child’s milestones definitely highlight  
Miracles so wondrous despite pandemic blow
Diagnosed to progress toward retrogression***…
Divine intervention --- reflects God’s grace at work.

I thank the Lord indeed; His eyes**** watch over me
His hand remains outstretched to secure my footsteps
Blessing my trust in Him, blocking me from wrong moves…
Divine intervention --- His love’s affirmation.

*My Poetry Soup membership commenced on April 9, 2018.
**My Dad went to be with the Lord on January 2, 2019.
***Our special son is now 12 years old.

****2Chronicles 16:9 For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to shew himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him… 

December 22, 2021
Narrative in modified Alexandrine form 

6th place, "DIVINE INTERVENTION" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on on 1/4/2022.
Form: Narrative

Flowerpatch Portals

The way to a girls heart 
                        seems to be sour candy? 
              She loves the way it puckers her lips. 
       She get's talkative, "as if", a Sleeping Beauty. 
          Awakened by gumdrop of her seize kiss. 
                     She is a slave to the sassy 
       kicked up notch of flavor rainbow hyper-twitch. 
            You are a slave to having treats on hand 
               and obey her every bossy command.

         Her eyes light up, ignited in an electric glee,
              Unleashing her inner child with a key.

                     With every tangy explosion,
             comes a remembered idea or notion.
              It's as if the world around her fades,
           and all that's left is the zesty escapade.

The way to her heart may be simple and sweet,
though the power to move her  
cannot be beat.
For true happiness lies in the simplest of things,
Like rewards and laughter and all the joy 
that they bring.

So don't underestimate the power of a treat,
it can awaken a heart and make it seat next to you, 
in solidarity.
Although, when she crashes, she may get grumpy, then go to sleep.
But just look at that lil candy  dream !

For in her mind, she'll roam free,
a girl again in a world of candy and sugary glee, safety and family things of memory.
In that moment, you'll see her soul,
Unencumbered by worry, 
a rare sight to behold, let alone coury.

So when you give her a piece of candy,
you're not just giving her something bland, savvy?
You're giving her a moment to escape, 
and yourself too, 
vicariously.
To find joy and happiness, 
and reshape that spirit, 
as she salivates upon it, 
intraveneously?

Like a Viking Maiden, or Dragon 
protecting a treasure in a cave.
A cat guarding it's dish with claws entrenched, 
growling, stay away.
"You shall not pass" and "Eye Of Sauron" mixed in a frightening way.
"Taste the rainbow of my fruity fu****wrath", 
she might say.

Though skittles may be small and sourly-sweet, 
an insignificality.
A token holds the power to make a heart 
skip a portaled beat.
For in that moment, she feels alive and free,
all thanks to that simple little treat, 
given lovingly, in a cheer to her memories. 

Reminders, hopeful omens 
and thoughtfulness's zing.
Doorways to the finer things.
Form: Rhyme

Phoenix Dreams In the Realm of Crows

“Phoenix Dreams in the Realm of Crows” 

wake up 
shake up 
kaleidoscope girl

jigsaw
see saw 
fit the pieces

she 
another world
away 

the in-betweeen
flows easily
through the veil

safe harbour 
opening 
portals 

for ocean steering 
curious kaleidoscope
stories to sew

the slip stitch
love knot cast
anchor’s raised

time’s racing
discharge fear
or remain

feathers spreading
in the realm 
of crows

poetic 
messengers
casting their spells 

for opening 
tombs turning 
dead leaves to tomes

in the crowded hideaway 
where shorthand, fixed tight to masts,
swings suspended for transcribing

dark nights,
where soft and fierce
treasure dwells

feathers spreading
cunning cuneiform for ghosts
who speak in tongues

transformative
strange letters 
unfurling

spreading 
deep indigo and 
jesserant jet feathers 

swords and keys 
for plundering
and opening

impromptu places
mysterious better nests 
for hidden golden eggs 

broken yoked, 
freed 
spilling silver spoons,

curl love drunk
into warm skinned 
velvet embryos

hugging new bodies 
of work, slick palaces 
for bedding 

better never-endings
never ending, 
electric muses 

flocked 
and kissing 
sated singing 

dreams
in the realm 
of crows 

the in-betweeen
flows easily
through the veil

safe harbour 
opening 
portals 

for ocean steering 
bejewelled St Elmo 
phoenix fire stories lit, to sew

the slip stitch
love knot cast
anchor’s raised

astral charting 
glossy winged stars
albatross angels 

waxing lyrical
follies and flights
ignited, illuminating 

phoenix dreams
in the realm
of crows

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)



“Hideaway”/ Queens of the Stone Age
https://youtu.be/2dcbcic06vw


"Let It Happen" / Tame Impala
https://youtu.be/NMRhx71bGo4


"Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control"/Tame Impala
https://youtu.be/C1VelTQ3hdY















Crow Symbolism 
https://www.onthefeeder.com/crow-symbolism/



LYRICS/ “Hideaway”, Queens of the Stone Age 
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/queensofthestoneage/hideaway.html


LYRICS/"Let It Happen", Tame Impala
https://genius.com/Tame-impala-let-it-happen-lyrics

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