Long Layers Poems
Long Layers Poems. Below are the most popular long Layers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Layers poems by poem length and keyword.
Digital Smoke Signals
by Odin Roark
Yesterdays keep pushing todays into tomorrows,
Yet history’s boyhood games
Remain in limbo with sand paintings
Holding imagination delicate
In earth colors eternal.
From past days shared by ancient shamans,
Now but museum daguerreotype photos,
The smell of clay oven bread,
Sage smoke healing,
The hunt’s curing for winter survival,
All remain layers unvanquished by wind and rain
Such make-believe streaming from
Small fists of dust in blood red and granite gray
Images taught by great grandfather,
Remain cherished lessons from
Yesteryear’s shared trust with nature.
I’m told the press and TV cameras are waiting.
Casino jackpots will be especially loose for the inaugural night.
After all, it’s not everyday a tribe can open their fifth strip mall.
As I stare at the fawn atop the hill behind,
Father says I need to cut the ribbon soon.
You walked addicted on the sordid quicksand
as gripping as the demons of sin could ever be,
sink in the destined depth of abhorrent abyss,
wrapped in the despicable layers of disdain.
The wounds of evil slashed the moral essence
where you had tried long in vain to never dig
the grave for the soul slain by the stab of sin,
for you drowned contrite in the sea of woes.
Purity of sunrise ignited candle of hope in you,
couldn’t abstain from facing kindled conscience
that lighted up the dark alley of introspection,
you reached self-illumed horizon of discernment.
Your identity drained of the vile slime of turpitude
by innuendo of self-proclaimed sense of sagacity,
reaching the lit fringe of life you didn’t remember,
you’d ever walked on the ground of sinned sands.
August : 20, 2019
Contest : Eight Word Challenge
Sponsor : Emile Pinet
One cold night, deep in thought, and curled in fright,
From folklore tales aimed to scare;
My rigid poise froze to a screeching noise
Outside, a voice not like I've heard before, to leave I would not dare
“It’s probably just an owl or creature of the night out there"
I muttered to myself, then pretended not to care
Oh, I recall quite vividly this icy Winter’s night
With grainy sight, the sandman came to lead me to his land
The weariness I fought but eventually he caught
Pulling me quite taut to somewhere far less bland
Where I became the leader of a marvellous brass band
And down that path sandman tightly gripped me by my hand
Trumpeters and trombone players played musically in layers
Exciting each and everyone, spreading joy to all around
But my dreams were playing tricks, my mind was in a mix
The bass tuba sounded sick, not playing tuneful sounds
Instead a grating shrill, then the whining of a hound
The lightning and the rain came too, my dream then ran aground
Alone I grew more frightened and the intensity just heightened
The shrieks and shrills grew louder with an occasional thunder clap
Taking sanctuary under bed sheets, preying for melodic sound beats
Suffering this painful feat, my soul took a massive slap
Oh how I longed for it to stop and to return me to my nap
The bleakness of that night, my mind caught in a trap
Morning later broke, the ground outside was soaked
The noise had faded but there was still a haunting in my ears
A crunch, a grind, a squeak a whine
The cause I vowed to find, and to take away my fears
From the upstairs window I saw a farmer crouched in tears
And a windmill's broken sails; the mystery closure neared
Across the muddy field, I approached the man kneeled
Sobbing over what appeared to be a dead Alsatian
He'd found it just lying there, the hound, his best friend
Downed by a falling windmill piece, killing gods creation
"A slow death" the farmer said "he must have cried out for attention"
"And my mill cranks broken causing noises of a nauseating sensation"
you remember that one time when ava fell off the swings and cut her knee?
how everyone laughed at her for her childish hubris in thinking she could jump and land,
unscathed, from that high a distance?
how the laughter roared as they watched a 9-year-old cry
and clutch her knee with both hands,
creating a burrow for blood under her nails?
how, without a moment of hesitation,
you ran to her, helped her up, and walked her to the nurse’s office?
yeah. didn’t think you’d remember it, if i’m being totally honest.
well, that moment, watching you put her arm around your shoulder for balance,
so she could hop her way down a flight and half of stairs for a single band-aid,
i think I fell in love with you.
maybe love is an exaggeration,
but looking at these old photos of us,
with your hair flying in the wind and my hair tucked in your helmet
as i clutched your waist for dear life,
the two of us,
flying down the freeway on your motorcycle,
i can’t think of a better word to describe my feelings for you.
these pictures,
now covered in layers of dust,
remind me of everything that could have been.
of everything that will never be.
i lost you so many addictions ago,
i guess i should’ve known when your words turned to lies,
and your lies turned to routine,
but i didn’t want to believe that the girl
with the bright pink hair and tacky leather jackets,
the girl that i had fallen so hard for,
was now gone.
that she had been replaced with someone who simply
went through the motions every day,
no longer able to feel anything for anyone,
someone who looked in the mirror,
wishing that the reflection would be blank.
the doctors say that your liver gave out,
but i think that the real cause was that you gave up.
i saw how hard you fought,
how you ran away from who you’d become,
leaving us behind in a race to find yourself.
you were gone long before the red line representing your heart’s last efforts flattened.
you’ve been gone so long that i’ve had to rely on these pictures
to make sure that you were ever real.
you’ve become nothing but a memory,
a hope, a wish for better,
a tragic story that i wish i never was a part of.
i miss you,
more than you could ever know,
more than i can ever process.
i miss you because no matter what happened,
no matter where you went,
no matter how long you’ve been gone,
i still loved you.
My mind seeks peace
To put my soul at ease
The battle was long
The depression was strong
Found myself at the end of a rope.
Lost was my hope
For a long time I fell
Somewhere down a dark bottomless well
No one could hear Me yell
A silent scream , this must just be a dream
Life falls apart
Pain tugs my heart
Where does one go wrong
On this path that takes so long
To end up here
Tangled in all this fear
Out falls a silent tear
Down inside such pain I did feel
As the many layers Start to peal.
I think I can take no more
Crawling for the exit door
The pain passes me by
Sometime during my silent cry
The sun came out to brighten the sky
On hands and knees, bended back
I survive this attack
Stronger
Cause I stood so much longer
I emerge from the dark
No walk through the park
But here I am coming so far
Rising from the scar.
While stepping above my sorrow
I now have a new tomorrow
Stepping through the fears
Beyond the tears
And now strong of heart
Ready for that new start
The self-obsessive free will seemingly unbound ever dormant,
envelopes my moribund mind with an unreal transient veil,
obscures the ordained pathway the absolute paves,
l need to faithfully follow, for I should at His will.
The unseen aura of the omnipresent awareness aurora,
permeates my possessed essence, I don’t perceive,
for I formulate the free-rule tenets taking the ego
to the domain of fantasized self-deception.
The blemish of base disdain discolors the face of conviction,
I traverse the gloomy ground of cardinal indulgence,
life is stifled by the corrupt clutch hidden within,
in remorse I feel the pernicious pangs of pain.
I travel unshackled out of the dark abyss of despair,
on inward journey with trust through consciousness layers,
comprehend then in the soul the radiance of ultimate beacon,
illumining the awareness corridor, leading to the abode of truth.
The ill-construed acuity of the errant mind,
discovers the devout path in the fold of faith.
That’s when the door of the inner sanctum opens,
where the lotus blooms suffused with the divine light.
The soul shines with sequins of astral radiance
in sacred space within with brilliance of billion suns.
In my self-searching dedicated odyssey to the eternity,
I discern the inner galaxy turning my faith into living light.
See that slender tree standing there
shooting upward in the air
with vine pointed towards the sun
and leaves falling abundantly to the ground,
the roots are planted firmly in the ground
and the vines wrapped closely around the bud
absorbing all the energy
oh what cruelty awaits thee
Layers and layer of vine
Warped around the slender tree
Sucking the life out of the trunk
The nutrients are gone and
and the bark stares frantically in the dark
I grab a knife and start cutting them way
And at last the misery suddenly fades away
And the tree could breathe fresh air
Desire is wrapped around the vine
You have got to leave that place
Before the wind sets in.
as silence layers silence
in time dissolved staid stillness
we sense ripples in the void
wherein our soul is centred
simply present in agendaless vibrance
attentive and receptive
not only to the words but meanings assigned
by murmurs of heart translated by the mind
a symbolic representation of light
as it is imbibed and assimilated
osmotically by our formless presence
as a soundless reverberation sublime
whose refrains echo in the cave of our heart
wherefrom gushing forth
the bardo that may not be named is then pierced
gently and mindfully imprinting our love
on the heart of God
thus invoking grace
by blurring all boundaries
and ending separation
We dress our souls with masks of words, as if covering our bodies with fine garments,
Every morning, we choose masks from the closet of the heart, full of unspoken stories,
Words are embroideries stitched onto the fabric of life, hiding the fragility that lies within us,
We place the masks upon our hearts like veils that filter the light of truth and shadows,
We are artists of appearances, painting on the canvas of the soul with shades of deep silence,
Beneath the masks of words, the face of truth is a broken mirror, hidden in silent gazes,
We fear being bare, stripping our souls of the garments of words that enwrap us,
Yet beneath the layers, we harbor a universe of dreams and desires, a cosmos of unrest,
Truth is a song that resonates muted within us, smothered by the masks that stifle our whispers,
We learn to dance between the light of sincerity and the shadow of pretense that defines us,
In the end, remains the desire to reveal ourselves as we truly are, letting the masks fall,
And perhaps, we will dare to be honest with ourselves, gazing into the mirror of the soul.
Growing old, things loved and cherished come and go.
Phone calls- text messages thinning.
Tossed aside in a world of folly and thickening frost-
Growing old in a world that keeps getting colder.
Hard faces-hovering over graying steps.
Cobwebs in the corner of an empty nest.
Growing old, another funeral procession -one friend less.
Life becoming an endless blue eulogy-nothing more, nothing less.
Layers of experiences - wisdom making very little difference
Growing old, what am I to leave behind...
A fistful of photos- memories forgotten
A few half-assed poems
a small sack of dirty dimes.
Where does time go when it's tired?
Years lost to a breeze-like a willow in spring.
Hard times and regret chirp away at the mind
Like sparrows on a line-so little time.
Where did the time go,
I wish I could buy a little bit more.
To release this overdue dream from its chrysalis.
Place barbed words back in the voice box.
Pay the toll for goals unmet.
I need a bit more time for apologies.
To tether forgiveness to regret.
Where did the time go, growing old?