Long Layer Poems
Long Layer Poems. Below are the most popular long Layer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Layer poems by poem length and keyword.
She was a kitchen singer.
Her mother, who had the knack
of never appearing young
(though she was never that old),
did not approve of the vocal arts.
She would shush, and hush, and tsk-tsk
whenever songs made the kitchen jingle-jangle,
the tunes distracting her
as she applied layer upon layer
of cosmetic goo to her bitter features.
Her father,
he who drank more than most,
who also listened to Spike Milligan shows
on a reel-to-reel tape recorder
had no taste for music in general.
He was a gentleman but not the best
yet was kind to cats at the very least.
Notwithstanding and nevertheless
she sang merrily to the pots and pans,
and perhaps due to the unusual acoustics
of that particular kitchen,
or maybe because her voice (so tinkly and elegant),
seemed carved out of the translucent ivory
of fairy thighs,
she did sing on for all her live long days
and prayed, when she remembered to,
to the Dancing Masters of Woo,
who knew her as the Mistress
who made pie in the sky dreams
come true.
And so it came to pass
that merry kitchens everywhere
were given throats of their own;
they trill now in both sweet and dramatic tones.
God bless them all, and God bless her,
she the kitchen singer
and cheers to all her jolly sing-along
kitchen songs.
Royal blue sky scattered sapphire clouds
On horizon embroidered in navy blue attire
Summoned by the onset of marigold sun
Emitting amber gold on tuscan yellow fire
Where tapestry of fluffy lavender floats
Decorating patterns of designs periwinkle
Mosaic of colors then spray-paint the water
Spreading a layer of golden yellow cover
Shimmering gold dust on twilight ripples
Abutting brushstrokes of dark blue egyptian
I saw you briefly where first time we met
On the lonely bridge that extends into bay
But as the dark landmass peeked its head
And the lifeless vegetation glinted despair
The tangerine breeze announced your exit
Quivering our aura beneath glittering riffle
For you refused to witness impending flame--
Broken vows ablaze in last breath of sunset
Written: August 4, 2018
Submitted on February 6, 2023 to:
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Submitted on December 7, 2022 To:
Placed 3rd: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Poem of the day on August 7, 2018
Placed first in standard contest #180 by Brian Strand
Line of inquiry:
“Neither desire nor aversion
Meditation our immersion
Conditioned beliefs discarded
Hymns we hum are our own version”
In the live network of unassailable design,
layer on layer my latticed mind is stratified.
The spiritual strata of innate awareness aligns
with the sagacious patterns of perception.
In my introspective journey within
my soul confined within the meditation crypt,
suffuses me with the supreme essence of piety,
liberates me from the dungeon of corporeal abyss,
taking me away from the unsure domain of conviction
in search of the divine light.
Many existential attributes of sole distinction
gain access to the sanctum of the psychic recess,
transcend through the undefined time
the fading limits of desire and aversion,
while the fluid sense of conditioned beliefs
flows abandoned from the cauldron of mindfulness,
merges with the sea of absolute consciousness.
I then hum the immutable hymn
of my sanctified soul,
that echoes in the melodic strata
of the harmonic awareness.
The devout mantra intoned
in the temple of my heart
resonates with the sublime symphony
of the sacred spirit in the realm of divinity.
How does one merely object to corruption?
When all that would amount to is an exhalation
A statue is made to crumble
But a statement is eternal
I’m alone again
I didn’t know loneliness like this could exist
In my “home country”
Where I hide from even myself
The insidious sensationalist ethos
Entwined with noxious entitlements
Layered in chemical chaos
Wrapped in morbid malevolence
My lungs do not breathe hypocrisy
My heart does not pump oil
I cannot thrive in an idiocracy
My soul cannot help but recoil
I grasp my index finger
As a tiny child would cling to their mother’s leg
Feeling my own pulse
Like a calming rhythm of her safe love
I feel as if I’m living on a red cartograph
And the only thing I’ve had to brace myself
Are the very few and far between blue toothpicks
The unshakable base layer of toxic red
As contiguous and intact
Since the very first colonies of religious and racist entitlement falsely took hold
And now, even the toothpicks are purple
Stolen, my energy and love mustn’t also be
Transmuted into bombs and bullets
Tearing apart our neighbors’ families and erasing cultures
Killing our sisters, daughters and mothers with pious neglect
They shall not receive a penny of my tax revenue
They shall not know the warmth of my blood
They shall not earn a drip of my sweat
They will never see a drop of my tears
I categorically reject their normalized bigotry
With every single fiber of my moral being
I forsake their weaponized animosity
And refuse to ever be contributing
As a credo, freedom is a way of abounding.
It depicts the core of man and his existence.
A memory that calls for full understanding.
How can we scale liberty based on choice?
Giving up one's needs is incredible branding.
The hill is coated in a layer of atmosphere.
The Freedom Pub is where they mingle.
Bravery destroys the dark memory of fear.
Tears were denied their rightful dingle.
spirits who lament each soldier's tears.
When freedom is lost, it is ruined forever.
The need to gather for a heroic alliance.
Queries are obvious of someone so clever.
A sentence in stone, depicting defiance.
Freedom Pub asserts the overall endeavor.
3rd place contest winner
Written: January 04, 2022
Freedom Pub Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
(Methow Waters, 2011)
Dreaming
In the space of dreaming
I awaken to what is real,
again and again, dreaming
that everything that has been
has been but a dream of separation
on a journey always coming home.
Layer upon layer these dreams
have built into lifetimes,
each filled with relationships
as real as can be,
but never as real
as what actually is.
In every dream I wander,
the grief of loss and separation
marking each step
that defines a life,
heart broken at the core,
recognized only in the reunion.
And yet, still I know I dream,
a dreamer outside the illusions
habitually spun,
knowing that someday
I will awake at last
and this too will be a dream.
(2/4/24)
The embodiment of the unique existence,
life is the construct of the transient elements,
that design the plethora of perishable patterns
within the ephemeral mundane body-mind entity.
Beneath the sensual surface of mortal perception,
mind transitorily shapes the innate images of awareness
on the fleeting screen beyond the frontiers of sensitivity
within the quintessence of corporeal being.
The perception layers are crossed in inward journey
to discover the divine lotus blossoming within,
where the joyous music of freedom is heard beguiled
in the serene depth of sublime silence.
As the absolute truth emerges from the acuity crypt,
the embedded beacon of insight in the existential recess
turns into the inspirational divine luminosity,
harmonized with the radiant exuberance of existence.
In the live network of intricate unassailable design,
layer on layer, the enlightened psyche is stratified,
the divine strata of the innate discernment align,
with the unique sagacious patterns of awareness.
When the immanent senses bloom as the acumen lotus,
the vision of soul unbound by the limits of perspicacity
gets focused by the lens of transcendent consciousness,
suffused with the spiritual perception of the supreme.
This is a great place to hide, high above the frozen
creek. My brother will be walking down the middle of it soon.
He'll never see me or this snowball I will hit him with.
I hear footsteps crunching down the thin top layer of ice.
A little closer and I'll attack.
Here's a nice limb to hold onto to balance myself for the throw.
"Crack" The stem has broke, I'm falling, and I feel my body punch
through the ice. I'm cold freezing I need to crawl out onto the bank.
Good, I have made it out, now the long walk home through
the snow before my pants freeze. Each step is becoming more
painful than the last. My steps are becoming shuffles. The
distance home is becoming further and further away.
It's beginning to feel like forever.
Rather than hiding self
behind fine phrases
and flowery words,
isn’t it time to live a life with openheartedness?
If sad and lonely,
cry your heart out to the end.
If life is difficult,
toss on the ground pounding a chest.
If enraged,
let it be flamed fiercely thereby, reducing it to ashes.
If you hate someone, condemn him, curse him and
wish him a miserable death.
While you are doing so, your tear filled eyes are
falling shut to rest your exhausted body,
your long and dark night’s anguish
gradually alleviates to a soothing air of daybreak light,
the flame of your anger loses its intensity under blazing sun.
Your hatred dies out in the layer after layer of soft moonlight.
Although life should be simple,
openhearted and indifferent, why are people,
carrying mortification, while deceiving themselves?
Living life disguised with clumsy make-up
as if a crudely painted face of a breathless body
laying in the coffin decorated with a bouquet of lifeless flowers.
Love touch tender, leaves no hearts asunder
Fragrance enabling our souls expansion
Asks no questions; is itself the answer
An osmotic bliss throb percolation
Love begins, by softening attention
Aliveness innate, in playful caper
Embracing all, without hesitation
Love touch tender, leaves no hearts asunder
Devoid of anger, envy and slander
In and yet not within, life in motion
Magnetism divine, a benign thunder
Fragrance enabling our souls expansion
Love alone real, found in each vibration
Bridging chasms by power of prayer
The very purpose of Gods creation
Asks no questions; is itself the answer
Love rebinds, what the ego does sever
Let us make it our orientation
That never wavers, now and forever
An osmotic bliss throb percolation
Nestled thus in the void of cessation
The false falls away, layer by layer
Vibrant, healing light, our meditation
Bliss mist vapour, the divine vivifier
Love touch tender
26-April-2021