Long Illuminate Poems
Long Illuminate Poems. Below are the most popular long Illuminate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Illuminate poems by poem length and keyword.
Lone sailor on voyage in sea of life !
Started peacefully in calm ambient.
Out of blue loud thunder in cloudless sky.
Hidden icebergs bring continuous trouble.
Sea of life turbulent where breakers roar.
Tough journey, yet to proceed not to stop.
Propel in tides - ebbs on rhythmic cadence.
Boat sways violent on trough and crest.
Life to wobble in thrill and in danger.
Ignite your soul to illuminate path..
Life to explore, agress on confidence
Responsibility is solely yours.
Competence and devotion is your guide.
Never to repent ! Never to regress.
Sail and sail , let the night winds sigh behind..
Let the breakers roar ! Sail , sail all along.
Accept the challenge: Meet eternity.
In sea of life lone sailor on voyage
Peacefully started in calm ambient.
All on a sudden thunder to outrage.
Yet to proceed without allowing rest.
Sea of life turbulent and breakers roar
Icebergs floating, nine times being submerged.
Giant waves swelling, aqua mass in galore.
Sailor propel in ebbs -tides chased by urge.
Life to explore, aggress on confidence.
Dedication and devotion are your guide.
Waves dancing on crest and trough in cadence.
Lone sailor sailing, night winds sigh behind.
Not to get frightened, let the breakers roar.
Not to lose confidence, you are so strong !
Not to regress , you are to reach the shore.
Let the breakers roar, sail, sail all along.
Music and romance are camarilla comrades,
just like poems are my shield and arrows.
But not all lullabies of lovers,
harmonise like a street choir of angels.
If love resembles the weather,
then poetry is like a snowflake.
Its fragile abstract nature
can betray the innocence of a poetic heart -
serenading in slaughtered symphonies of silence.
When lust burns in assailable impurity,
love suffers in small doses,
performing a masquerade concealing truthful tones.
So what is the purpose of poetry if it offers no remedy?
Whispering winds form hailstorms in my mind,
wondering if there is a sanctuary
for lonely spirits suffering as seasonally sad souls.
In the midst of melancholic misfortune,
I wish to drown in tepid tides of holy water,
because fate is frozen in winter wanderlust.
Heartache taught me how to be a poet,
each scar inflicted from profound lies and cries.
But what is the purpose of poetry if there is no muse?
In the perception of imagination,
I search for the one
who left frozen tears on my pillowcase.
But her eyes see celestite waves kissing
ecru shorelines under blue pearlescent skies,
blessed with the radiance of saffron sunshine,
in the heavenly harmony of relaxing music.
So, I wonder why she resides in ebony emotions,
refusing to dance, lost in lyrical lament.
Some spirits evolve into envious entities,
but mine just misses the rose window to her soul.
When wine dark skies glare in misery and gloom,
composing ashen clouds to pour in plentiful rain,
I feel the chills of an Antarctic iced leaf on an ice covered lake,
but maintain an evergreen glow,
hoping to forever illuminate like cathartic moonlight -
reflecting upon her bronze fibers.
Opposites attract like fireflies in the night.
I am the bridge and you are the chorus.
so I follow footprints in the snow,
under the guidance of devotary sincere stars.
In the hope we will make melodies at midnight -
merging into rivers of unassailable purity
And If I can't be a poet, then I'll become a poem.
I cannot predict how my ink will spill,
so will you guide each verse to give it a purpose,
breathing my words into life?
Will you love me more than poetry?
Kissing all those diamond promises
into my rhinestone heart -
or will you massacre the music,
abandoning me like an unfinished symphony.
In the thicket forgotten of deeply anchored thoughts,
Where ideas nest, across time and tailored spaces,
There I stand, guardian of the undimmed realm, the archivist of the flame
That knows not extinguishing in the beating winds of history,
Guarding the pure light that does not fracture from darkness.
Shadow does not frighten me, in the tumultuous whirl of the ephemeral moment,
The virility of my pen is the bastion safe from political venom,
In my fortress of books, ideas, and eternally glimpsed dreams,
A candle of knowledge, a lighthouse piercing the fog of despair,
And my intellect, a fleet that can quench the thirst of the abyss.
I am the knight battling the windmills of forgetfulness and ignorance,
At war with the shadows that attempt to speak of present suppression,
A country does not parade its grandeur in the fleeting plays of political stages,
But in the echo it leaves through a waltz of creative genius in the world's libraries,
Through art, science, and the poetry whispered by blossoming briar circles.
A nation does not stretch into the arms of death when it is defeated,
Nor embraces the poison when lords change or thrones waver,
But on the wings of those who walked through the subtle circles of thought,
They leave an endless imprint of the dream in the springs of eternity,
Weaving its chronicles, over centuries and wisdom its people grow.
And I, amongst waves of misunderstanding and barriers of indifference,
Submerged in creations that speak in languages only the stars comprehend,
I traverse the fine line between present and dreaming eternity,
I build from words a wall that no terrestrial battle can crumble.
I watch how politics spins like an old mill in the fickle wind,
But I keep my distance, with my quill dipped in eternal ink,
Agony and ecstasy, in a wondrous dance of knowledge,
Never forgetting that the sunrise from my mind is the rebirth of the world.
Beneath my intellectual hoard, with its invincible nature,
I warm centuries, illuminate unfoldings, and cultivate hope,
For, regardless of the whirlwind that beats at my gate,
I am master of my counsel and the dream I embrace.
Politics may haunt the streets and squares,
But the eternal plays in the laboratories of my tranquil mind,
Where I, the architect of this human sanctuary, undefeated,
Weaving eternity with my intellect, remain.
When empty bubbles of stillness brimmed the place
Upon an emerald carpet of meads, she genuflected with gathered grace
Of languished bones and reverence plucked from nunhood hearts.
Mighty potentate dear, the wonted beseeching starts.
Oh! May the taper of thought illuminate the native firmament of youth
With eternal beams of clemency and immaculate truth.
May remnants of vernal days, emulate the unsullied string of murmuring Rhine
Which lofty silvern moon looks through in her decline.
Oh! Bestow sleets of diamond, shower the withering faith abundantly
My genuine night in ancient might and atrous raven majesty
Never admits a lucid ray of Cynthia's placid light
Nor scarce a pristine spark from virgin Lilies white.
In festal exuberant mirth, flowers rich in prime often steep
Banished from fervid fancies, my dreams slither from sepulchres of sleep
Dreary like spectres embroidered in soot-black cloak
Yoked with throat gripping images of woe, clawed than forked foot of hawk.
Oh! Grand down the enormous wing of unyielding throes
Intercepting the sun's beam of daffodil gold to disclose
The jolly throng of seeming friends in vizard faction knit.
Raze with fanged rust, the malignant swarm of antagonizing foes assailing in skits.
Once these cheeks flushed bright than crimson blossoms glow
Alack! Over those, briny springs of melancholy flow
From heights of penitence, from depth of pain suppressed
Creeping like subtle snakes from hollowed cavities of earth's breast.
Since wisdom hoarded in writhled lores and hoary sage
Never fades, stroked by boundless surges of age.
Since the raging cold of thawed snow, is kindly kept in summer's temperate heat
The severe taste of my delayed revenge, is neither lost in circles of time nor deplete.
Oh! Divine celestial quill, in rich characters of light, write…
Before the blind sentence groped to distinct light
Restless billows of black-faced misery, wretched the brass-chain of words away
Her thoughts bitter and sweet mingled without delay.
Through hollowed glades redoubled echoes nimbly fly
Plumed like pinions in boundless circles scan the scaled sky
Bearing the closing effort of sacred orisons, sealed with despairing cry
Imploring the sovereign sublime, perched upon Elysium throne
Oh! “Let go the string, before this withering faith is tempest blown."
GOD IS SPEAKING MINISTRY - A DEDICATED VERSE TO JANEEN BROWN -My SpokenWord
A thought
a voice in the dark spoke forth life and light
Cell birth multiplying births truths cells dividing
Cells all is well all well all is well still dividing
Shhh!
Hush the powers in His eyes speak life
Quiet, love the power in His ears loudly listening for the darkness
And when the moon will arises and the Sun is risen in the Stars surround he is the author of creator of all above and below in beneath and everything in between God is life
We are His hands and feet we are His mouth we speak we are reality we're off about our Father's business for His glory
In God speaks forth---God is speaking ministry
Use me as your vessel Lord
God pouring me ever more
Daddy Father use me as your hands and feet to walk to someone encouraging to greet
Give me hands and arms to embrace your loved beloved children
A hand and mouth to pray until your sheep always
Help me to be a light not a spark not a flame
Give me thy Grace to illuminate in your name
The power of you oh God shall not be deflained
For I speak life abundantly in Jesus name
God is speaking ministry
In my being
The sound that I hear
God is speaking ministry
And God is seeking and God is seeking all his beloved children and God is speaking and God is speaking for the just to speak to the unjust
Why you breathing keep breathing before because it is his kiss that has given you life
Energy supported you're part of his anointing a cell an energy your life
Love speak love speak hope Joy speak Life speak the Father heart
Quiet! hush, the powers in His eyes speaking life hush my love beloved the power in His ears ring listening flowing through the darkness and when the moon will arise and the Son has risen returns and sets. Battle Won a New Heaven New Earth rebirth, reborn In the Stars surround heaven's core Our Father is the author of creation of all above and below and in beneath and everything in between God is life
Sounds
Sounds
Sight
Sight
My brother, my sister --Beloved
What is your duty call
Get out of your misery rebuke be placed in your destiny ...
God is speaking
God is speaking ministry
God is speaking ministry
GOD IS SPEAKING MINISTRY
3/25/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
out there in our world
there are brilliant individuals
whose minds are incredible,
awesome & inspiring,
bearing thoughts, ideas &
theories, which many of us
wouldn’t be able to fathom
if the thinker her/himself
sat down at our breakfast table
& spoon fed it to us
like we were good little Gerber
babies.
there are funny wo/men out
there also,
who with one quick quip or
deliberate body gesture, facial
contortion or humorous act
which may up to this point have
no definition at all,
are able to tickle our funny bone,
sending us into a fit of
laughter, which may very well
create pain in our gut or
cause us to fall right out of our
chairs.
unfortunately it is the case that
seldom do these two vital human
qualities exist within the same being &
when you come across someone
who possesses both,
your jaw might drop at the same time
you begin to quake with an almost
violent
guffaw---
this writer does feel that
Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson fits the bill.
Dr. Neil can captivate an audience---
armed with a comforting smile,
razor sharp wit & pure down to
earth sagacity,
in just over an hour (maybe less)
he can take those who held
absolutely no interest in Science
whatsoever,
and with an uncanny ability to weave
the most wondrous & complicated
descriptions of what goes on in the
cosmos,
with jokes & anecdotes
in a communicative way that does not
have an agenda,
outside that of education,
he is able to turn on whole crowds
to a love of Science!
and once you see him,
you won’t be able to get enough---
you’ll watch all the youtube lectures he
did,
and you’ll read all his books &
the whole time,
you’ll be learning things
which had they been brought you
by someone else,
you might have just been bored listening,
or ignored outright.
though many good intentioned smart
wo/men
will do their best to convey
all their research &
they’ll do so with all the compassion that
they can muster,
how unquestionably important it is to
have someone like Neil
bearing as much communicative talent
as he does sheer intelligence,
so that he might continue to
illuminate the world,
showing his own love for what he does &
what has always interested him,
so that he may pass it on,
igniting further amazement in us all,
so that so many break the chains of
religious dogmas which have
kept their eyes & their minds
shut & closed for so long!
Under the veil of twilight, where shadows whisper the secrets of the soul,
A river of thoughts flows endlessly, weaving through the ethereal landscape of my mind,
Carrying fragments of self-knowledge that must be torn apart before I am whole.
The man I know myself to be—the one who walks in familiar shadows—must meet his end,
So that the true man I am, hidden deep in dreams, can rise and truly exist.
The echoes of an old self ring hollow, desperate for the dawn of a new essence,
And in this dance of melancholy and magic, I glimpse the delicate balance of transformation.
I wander through a labyrinth of metaphors, where each corridor leads deeper into the fog of introspection,
Where the walls are adorned with pale portraits of the past,
And every turn brings a moment of reflection, a confrontation with the shadows of an old self.
This man I have known, a tapestry of familiar fears and comforts, must perish,
So that I can lay him to rest in the catacombs of forgotten dreams,
And rise from the ashes, a phoenix reborn at dusk, unburdened and pure.
It is in this crucible of self-destruction and rebirth that I find the essence of who I truly am,
As I walk through the valley of my own soul, unweaving the fabric of the past,
I understand the necessity of erasing the echoes of the old man within me,
To carve out space where the true man can breathe, live, and flourish.
The old man must die, his spectral presence fading into the night,
For only then can the dawn illuminate the contours of the true self.
In this mystical journey, where melancholy kisses the edges of hope,
I surrender to the flux of consciousness, a current that carries me toward the horizon of becoming.
This dissolution of the known self is but a necessary prelude to the symphony of rebirth,
A metamorphosis that transforms the chrysalis of the soul into the liberated butterfly,
Wings unfurling in the gentle light of twilight, where magic and melancholy intertwine.
And as the twilight yields to the night, and the stars paint the canvas of the sky,
I stand on the precipice of my own becoming, the old man laid to rest,
While the true man steps forward, a vessel of possibilities, a testament to the beauty of transformation,
Embracing the melancholy of loss and the magic of renewal, in the ever-flowing river of consciousness.
My muse is a poetic flower garden,
blooming lilacs in barren meadows,
but I still remember
how I heeded haunting heartbeats
in paradise, whilst praying
for your lustrous light,
to descend onto my hazy horizons.
Your eyes like captivating sunsets,
made me dream away,
recalling shells lost in a forgotten
coral reef, castaway upon
an elusive island,
where the paths have no name,
but the oceanic breeze
calls yours so softly.
I was killing time,
scribbling elegies
on distant musical shores,
where spotted eagle rays
and flying fish were my only mentors.
Nocturnal reef sharks unfolded tales
beneath lonesome skies,
illustrating a secretive stairway
that would lead me
to the scintillating stars.
Deep within my heart,
I knew in the darkest
night you are the light
that would illuminate
my breathless sighs
with blazing ballads
rewriting my fate,
reawakening my
need to thrive through these
endless melancholic monsoons;
surfing through vast oceans.
Your cosmic radiance pulled
this chocolate mermaid,
from the bioluminescent
ripples of sorrow,
empathising with
endless streams from
my volcanic mind
and harmonious heart,
which was in dire
need of healing,
from draconian depleted
ideologies imprinted within
a labyrinth of
narcissistic daffodils,
emanating deceptive fragrances
resembling the devil's disciple,
claiming me as nothing,
but a mere self
confessed queen
on a conquest to conquer
the uncontrollable calling
to a land of virtual hypocrisy.
If only they knew
I no longer desired
to rule a kingdom of
tumultuous pretense.
I was waiting for the
return of the butterflies,
tearing apart the fragile
walls of its cocoon.
I knew if Romeo did not die,
I would be living Juliet's desires.
I was a poetess
searching for
a purpose, with no sense
to shelter, watching the
last icicle
of winter melt away.
Truth deserves a narrative
that has no ending,
though I question the universe.
Where do the
lost poets reside?
Is it where the
moon chooses to hide,
disguising dreariness
within dazzling blankets
of dancing moonscapes,
or will this be how
this sleepless soul
seizes its faultless lunar tide?
“Not all those who wander are lost.” J.R.R Tolkien English writer
I miss the sensible in your heart
Just before you whispered your thought.
I miss the color of your soft
Just before you were blushing from a soul
Spent by the shadows,
Alive because its destiny
Is peppered with a hesitant peace,
Serenity fed by the music of grace,
A song abiding through the silence of praise,
A tenderness felt by those who express…
Joy from knowing you are as gentle as the wind
Who soothes and blesses, caressing
Every moment with a peace that extends
Light, softly flowing, always knowing
Wherever life takes me, I can be sure your memory
Will stay with me, stirring my dreams,
Stilling my fears – carrying me through
The depths of a sorrow that might have won
If I had never known, the beauty of you,
Who I keep missing, missing like the blue
In a southern sky, starry eyed, quietly twinkling through the night,
As alive as the kindness that survives, because you…
Are like a raindrop, trickling
Light over the shadow, feelings
Blessed by truth,
More beautiful than the rainbow
Who reveals God’s hues,
Sighing across the heavens,
Erasing the melancholic mood,
Sustaining hearts and souls, stirring
Life where there was once darkness,
Inspiring wonders that dream on,
Through the burdens, through the wrong,
Into the twilight, melodies praising
Where you once became the moment,
The faith on display,
In you I found the lasting taste…
Psalms, poetic kisses
On the edges of a tear,
Inviting my soul to hear,
Where the rain glimpses the earth,
Leaves rustling, in hues of autumn’s life,
Painting the world in silence,
A still life, overcome with insight,
Where yesterday tries to obtain a secret
From the beautiful dancing
Flowing with kindness, a meeting
Of heart and hope, minds learning
Just how to abide in the night,
Where moonbeams and flowery dreams
Illuminate the smiles…
Your heart, your soul, your spirit
Reflected in the stillness
Of a blessing only God could move
With the music, the notes
Journeys beyond the memories
Where I feel most content, genuine
Like a storybook grace,
Amazing and unafraid, blessed
By the moments, never betrayed
Soundless adventures from a heart
Who misses the wilds, the light
That can’t fade,
Because it sits on your grave.
My Beloved,
My fervent Solemn passion
My LOVE bound to you
My Darling, I am entirely thine
As kindling in pure Formidable flame
My Beloved, My precious love
My better self,
If the moment of Immortality
Unveil to exist between us
I shalt whisper your Beloved name
As phantom of delight
Riveting as melodious
As mating birds
My Beloved,
My fervent Solemn passion,
Your elegance and beauty
As begotten rapturous vibrant
ebullient portrait of LOVE
As blissful birth of precious
glittering mother of pearl
Invigorating to purify
my tumultuous untamed heart
My Immortal Angel,
My Dearest LOVE
My Joyful Darling
My eyes, worships Your Eyes
In pure adoration
My eyes can NO longer
hide my addiction
My Immortal Beloved
The LOVE of sublimity,
Should I not let my eyes
become lit, before YOUR eyes
As my heart’s pupil of febrile eyes
Dives in your endless ocean
of LOVE to be drowned in ecstasy
My Beloved,
My fervent Solemn passion
My hunger has become a fain of fasting
My Darling,
Your Lips, a provocative budding beauty
which Loves to flaunts itself
shalt be my eternal
Adoring site of pilgrimage,
As my tender lips, as nourishing
As endless waves of ocean
can not resist rushing to wet
to rescue YOUR thirst of ecstasy
My Beloved,
My fervent Solemn passion,
Faithfullest heart,
My Love bound to you, As we stem
As rose garden of Elysium
As sweet scent of LOVE
Emanating from the blossoms
As our tender hands entangled
with Majestic Red Robe Of LOVE
As Our eyes wed
For moment of eternal serenity
to cast our Hearts net in endless
ocean of sublime ecstasy
to capture our own image of ONENESS
My Immortal Beloved
Sanctuary of Love, My Darling,
I am entirely Thine,
I clasp the hand of Love
As I clasp my body
As fortitude of Love
Against YOUR body,
The Citadel of Heaven,
As my lips penetrates the silence
to whisper tenderly in Thy Beloved ears;
I LOVE THEE,
As My hearts infinite tender majesty
Shalt illuminate the Devine promise of bliss
As it echoes in eternity,
As my heart decorate the tent of LOVE
My Beloved, My fervent
My Solemn passion,
My Darling, My precious one,
My soul exclaimed in delight jubilation
My Beloved LOVE
As I am fain to see THEE
in the Bethel of LOVE,
For Eternity
Forever Thine
Forever Ours