Long Initial Poems
Long Initial Poems. Below are the most popular long Initial by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Initial poems by poem length and keyword.
Into your being, Aeolus blew
an enthusiastic hunger,
Driving your curious and passionate nature
To swirl together in an eclectic dance,
Displaying a prismatic array of imaginative hues,
a zealous vortex, a colorful blur.
You were alive in a way very few
Ever were
This was you.
People said you were a mess,
a faltered and broken soul, they'd say,
an albatross placed around one's neck,
a sinking ship, a ball, and chain—
a disaster not yet made.
With jealous words, they chose to speak
but I saw the magic
they were too blind to see.
Your chaos was brilliant;
you were beautiful to me.
You calmed in my presence
enough that I could see
your aura painted with every color known to be.
And when your eyes met mine,
I could tell
they saw beyond my earthly shell.
And within your essence of spinning hues,
I saw something else there too:
a sadness,
a sadness I swore to love out of you,
to preserve the magic in your dance.
So I gave you my loyalty, time, and patience
for my love already lived within your essence’s grasp,
I was determined to heal the tear in your heart,
to mend without scars all your shattered parts.
While in my soul's embrace,
your shadows seemed to wane.
With time, the darkness did ascend—
you felt no more pain,
no heaviness within.
But as the shadows left your face,
your cyclonic presence softened its pace.
With your heart filled
and your sadness erased,
I watched your vortex still
and its colors fade.
Happy and whole, you felt content
in the family we created, in the life we lived.
Feeling ashamed, I began to pull away,
remorseful, burying the ache I could not explain.
I was angry with my own heart
for feeling confused—
in the absence of your color, I had lost my muse.
For the murder of inspiration,
my love stands accused,
missing all the initial cues
that the sadness I sought to remove
was more important to me
than I ever knew
I understand now what your sadness did—
it held open the wound where your magic lived.
And the pain that wound made, it gave like a gift,
stitching new feeling to every color it bled.
And with every new color, reality bent,
giving birth to a finale of colorful spark
That ignited the beautiful whirlwind of chaos
I loved with every ounce of my heart
The other day a Dobson fly landed on me…and I mistakenly had this hunch
that his reason was a simple one…he wanted me for lunch
Since then I’ve done a little reading…and I think my first though was out of whack
for legend says a Dobson fly is given an extra set of wings…
So an angel can ride on it’s back.
And anyone visited by a Dobson fly…need not be afraid or feel blue.
It only means an angel has decided to visit you.
What made me change my thinking…what brought my initial conclusion in doubt
was the person, earlier that week, we were thinking and talking about.
28 years ago Ali’s friend, Chrissy, came with us to the mountains.
They were still in high school…both having yet to hit their prime.
In the two weeks we shared together…we had a wonderful time.
But Chrissy’s later years were troubled…filled with heartache, pain and strife
and years after our two weeks together…Chrissy took her life.
We were on the Blue Ridge Parkway when we thought of Chrissy…
Wondered about her, her life, her death…and all the years that have gone by.
when, the next day, by a river I was visited by a Dobson fly.
A Dobson fly who was not interested eating me my mid day snack.
A Dobson fly who, in all likelihood, had Chrissy on his back.
I like to think Chrissy heard us talking…listened to every line
then hitched a ride on a Dobson fly to let us know…she is doing fine.
I like to think that Chrissy with Dobson fly in tow
still remembers fondly those two weeks…28 years ago.
I don’t know where this legend started…how it initially came to be.
but I will look a little closer the next time a Dobson fly lands on me.
For my would•have•been diamond in the rough
I hope my love for you someday will be enough
If it's not, baby, it's all that I've got
Showing my heart mercy is what I ask the lot
'Cause my heartstrings are about to break
In this crazy - and maybe drastic - mistake
I've tried already - and I loved you way too late
If you're ready or not - all I can do is wait
Show me mercy when you proceed to break my black heart
Make us end like a professional masterpiece of art
'Cause the peaceful ending will be coming very soon...
Please save me from your uncertain doom
'Cause your heart for me no longer has anymore zoom
For my unwanted silhouette to loom
In the sad rejected energies of your pink & pillow-princess room
If you change your mind & suddenly want me - I may not be around
'Cause right now I'm in the foyér of another woman's stomping ground
In my piano chair she bought me, I sit and give a quick glance
To the girl who wouldn't ever give me a chance
Who coldly rejected my courageous & overly-infused romance
So if you change your mind and remember you want me
You'll have to find somebody else to set you on fire and free
'Cause right now someone else's delicate heart is tied up vulnerably to me
So please hold your tears if you decide to ever come along
I'm now dancing to another woman's beat & song
She's been good to me from my initial courageous & overly-infused romance
Because she never said no without first giving me the chance...
My witchy teardrops, dandelion oil, mystical, magickal dust
Faerie Tales, cockatiels, sandwiched between rusted trust
Of movie reels, bootlegged steals, cyber-world, & for reals
Myself as a wild-child & lonely found you across the sea
At the time you didn't know that soon you'd be her final reason to breathe
And you'd be her reason to believe
You'd crack the door to your heart, & then slam it when I was near
You liked to lock up the most attractive parts of you because of your simplistic, insecure fears
I wasn't allowed to be welcomed into your heart for years & years
I'd get too close & once more, you'd slam the door yet again
If you felt out of control of your environment - then nobody can possibly win
You're mad at me for the lack of interaction - but attempting to interact with a workaholic will never yield compromise-able satisfaction
In my experience with you, it always held an unpredictable, bottled-up reaction
Instead of cuddling, smoking, & just relaxin'
This non-communicative, Scorpio, an eloquent, self-confessed introvert would always stay deeply immersed in your work
Never really gave an attentive chance
Even through our initial, fiery romance
You seldom got to experience my mind & body both - like rhythmic, melodious smoke
The worst time for us to be together back then
But something told you that we were worth sacrificing the work we put in for many years being metaverse friends
That was a roll of the die I didn't want to try
We'd have to sacrifice all the time spent, or end up simply saying our goodbyes
In the twilight of the morning I stopped and took a break
to watch the night pull back her blanket and say to the morning,
“It’s time to wake.”
This all began in total darkness…save a few stars twinkling in the sky.
The crickets’ chirps were the only sound I heard but they were fading
as they sang themselves a lullaby.
As the final cricket fell asleep in the chilly morning air
my senses seemed more heightened and I suddenly became aware
of how softly, quietly, ever-so-slowly the sky began to shift
and the darkness, once so prevalent, imperceptibly began to lift.
Night did her best to gently nudge and wake the day
and I watched them smile and share a greeting before night rotated away.
The morning yawned and stretched then wiped the sleep from out her eye
as the first bird of the morning began to sing…her song wafting through the sky.
She was quickly followed by another bird…then another…then another sang her song
until harmony bathed the mountains as more and more waking birds sang along.
The sun had yet to make an appearance but her initial rays extended across the land
and right before my eyes I saw the day enlarge…spread out…expand.
As I sat their excitedly watching the landscape turn from dim to bright
I marveled at how easily my eyes became accustomed to the light.
And I felt joy at being so lucky…that in the twilight I had stopped to take a break
to watch the night head off to darken other skies…and my morning come awake.
The missus brings me high test coffee...
A cold wintry January 53rd, 2021
at Highland Manor apartments
picturesque snow covered landscape
safely ensconced within Unit B44,
we (yours truly and wife)
occupy bedroom and
television room respectively
comfortably numb and toasty warm
at sixty degrees Fahrenheit
courtesy climate controlled environment.
I practice crafting poetry
(seeking posthumous fame)
while the spouse busies herself
channel surfing putting
down remote control
after espying satisfactory movie
(Fatal Attractions),
about which she knows
every single detail,
and can rattle offer personal tidbits
about cast of actors and actresses.
Aforementioned regular routine
predictable until
onset rites of spring,
where warm weather perfect balm
to allow, enable and provide
antidote to existential woes
coping with being quarantined,
though sensing optimism
regarding president Joe Biden
green lighting living social pursuits
possibly revisiting
following favorite pastime.
Recalling contra dancing
as palliative against bashfulness
life as high school wallflower served me
without any budding female friendships
until lo… agent tulle nudge, yes
my mother over mollycoddled
then uprooted me
mein kampf familiar
bedrock level road terrain,
which venue offered groundswell
to blossom forth into
golden sterling resplendent rod
of natural equipoise,
(an unbiased opinion) and balance
with freestyle improvisational swinging motions
unchained from moors of formality
lit figurative saint elmo’s
Sesame Street Big Bird
winging fiery dance
allowing, enabling and
providing shy awkward self
during his young adulthood
to cast away four ever
self embroidered handsome
straight as an arrow
naturally high as a kite young guy
buzzfeeding like yellow jacket
liberating spontaneity
that je ne sais quoi joie vivre
clamoring headlong toward pollination
healthy packing heat overflowing
testosterone bin laden well nigh
erupting pistol (stay man)
toward opposite gender,
whereby bravado donned as key
to hoe field of whet dreams
fostering initial albeit late blooming
roll in the hay hormonally
rooted rutting squeal!
14.3
“I have realized the Supreme Self,
the Witness, the One
I am indifferent
to bondage and freedom.
I have no need for liberation”
14.4
“The inner condition
of one who is devoid of doubt
yet moves among creatures of illusion
can only be known by those like him”
What is realisation
What is awakening
If there remains doubt or hesitation
In conclusions arising from our contemplation
Then we are still searching
There being a gap in our so connecting
Our consciousness with supreme awareness
Blockages impeding full flow of Divine fragrance
After the initial witnessing or experiencing
There is a long road in consolidating & assimilating
The knowing
Not quite the becoming
As long as the current is intermittent
We are short of full enlightenment
And whilst the glimpses are encouraging
We need to surrender fully to cognise the Supreme all pervading
The symptoms manifest may yet be as stated as unseeking
We may be content in the Divine stream within us flowing
Yet to be truthful can we affirm the validity
Of being connected to the Source in an unbroken continuity
Being detached and desireless is an orientation laudable
But to say that we are free of doubt is a concept laughable
So whilst we patiently and trustingly await our blossoming
We are humble in confessing that we are still unseekingly seeking
(20-August-2019)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Verse 14.3-14.4 revisited on 17-November-2021
Mere affirmation
Not a confirmation
Although we confess
That there’s been progress
With glimpses offered
Wisdom proffered
In a slow tease
That does please
Essence of presence
Blissful joyous innocence
Knowing God in-dwells each form
Birthing magnetic rapture warm
No sooner ego disappears
God Himself appears
The way is simple
Though mind fickle
Once it melds with heart
Feel therein bliss ignition start
Soma nectar flows through nadis
Heightened ecstatic joy in continuity
Each pore a door, do we yet need more
There is no one here keeping a score
All is, as is, a bliss continuum
Each node our sensorium
Love meads, we follow
In stillness mellow
They acquired a wealth of knowledge
But their action doesn’t justify
they just couldn’t get past reading or listening
to actually living the life they desired.
Often you may see their frustration
They are very raw in this art
Quite a few indications that they have
Shows gap between knowledge and action.
They blame to routines of daily life
getting in their way and
the initial zeal just dies out
making them at bay.
The question is not "can I accomplish this?"
It is "how am I motivated to accomplish this?"
Think about this before it’s too late
Life is very cruel, it is pushing you to death’s gate.
Alacrity bespeaks entangled, entombed,
and entrapped Thai soccer team
diminishing strength barely allows,
but a whispered scream,
which rescue against all odds
(plucked out cavernous catacomb),
fast becoming a fading dream
vicariously agonizing to see
desperation and lads bravely brace,
helplessness predominating over initial
found alive break thru gain
promising grim destiny slowly doth erase
yet resignation impossible
to ignore written on every face
despite faux (cracking)
courageous front,
now severely testing grace
under underground solid state
rock geomorphology
necessitating stepped up pace
to rescue, sans race
against time encroaching threatened space
with predicted mon
soon meteorologists trace
with laser pointer predict
ominous incursion cave
at mercy of vulnerable flooding
worst case scenario, grave
nightmare predicament
in an attempt to save
youths with barely enough
strength to smile or wave
downgrading my own fear
being emotionally incommunicado
during prepubescence
pretending not to hear
clapping skeletal hands over each ear
to blot out hyper consciousness of glare
ring existence squelching
feeble effing dare
sputtering Nietzscheism at every turn
of the (ripped torn) page
airtight barricade against transformation
into manhood stage
fighting to the death
foaming at mouth dagger like
canine teeth savagely
evincing snarling rage,
no match for reinforced
rebar invisible cage
holding self hostage,
not enough money
to pay hefty ransom,
thus thine mental health
compromised, which
to this day still pay steep wage.
The times of forewarnings whereby recipients within close proximity of retiring may have to keep on working as a possible solution and thereby embolden the faltering and weakening future, and the eventual collaspe of the Social Security System that fundings will be depleted and thereby deny Americans their blankets of secured perpetuity.
Based upon the timings of the DC's outcry and imminent danger of the Social Security's abilities to stay above water and to maintain a stalwart opportunity without deviating needed resources to accommodate the lacking. The numbers of retirees have stabilized, meaning that less people were retiring.
The effects that the government had enforced on Social Security, changing its parameters and basic concepts and ideology of exacting quantum knowledge -- later is better.
Eureka, it worked. Social Security may not be fully secured, but numbers have proven the buffers are laxed enough to accommodate the retirees who are presently those who waited and this happens to be their retirement that they had put off till later, becomes their now for they could have been first in queue seeing the changes, and becoming the better you, the adherant crowd who off retirement for later. This product of revamping the system of "do or die", frightening outlook. Message loud and clear, that initial phrase was to get the truth matter methodlogy was the phrase, "Later is Better."
The massive campaigns put forward concerning America's Social Security System ensuring all Americans, particularly the wrokers of America, and a special message to those close to retirement: Your check will be in the mail or deposited in your Financial Institution, Well-earned, RETIREE.