Long Leaving Poems
Long Leaving Poems. Below are the most popular long Leaving by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leaving poems by poem length and keyword.
The Writer
Solemn and quietly, they sit in their place of their own choosing
Deepest within their thoughts of both amusing and confusing
What phrase works, how does this sentence flow infusing
Such a gift, making the words dance can be so amusing
An eternity staring at a blank screen, watching the curser’s beat
Searching, researching for their next inspiration to complete
Immutable inner thoughts keeping so very indiscreet
Allowing their thought and emotions to compete
There are many forms of writing, and the genre is their domain
Be it a such wonderful story they tell and how they entertain
Subjects that excite you, involve you, erase the mundane
Taking you places, some magical, some causing pain
Writers of wonderful songs, lyrics and music that magically flow
There are writers, storytellers and teachers of what they know
There are writers of poetry, invoking emotions they bestow
How their talent emerges, of this we do not know
The mesmerizing effect of what music can bring in our everyday life
The songwriter reaches you, knows how you struggle with strife
The music, the band and guitar riffs that cut like a knife
Giving you such wonderful memories all your life
A wonderful tale that can take you to some far away places
Perhaps a crime story is your liking, some unsolved cases
Your vivid imagination flourishes as your heart races
Sending you into a fantasy, imagining their faces
Losing yourself in some well written poetry, touching your soul
Words flowing magically, consuming your emotions whole
As if the writer was writing to you, your heart they stole
Leaving you with such memories for only you to extol
The many formats to express deepest thoughts and emotions
We the reader, immersed within our deepest devotions
Mesmerized by the messages, in all their notions
A good read can be like some magical potions
I woke in the middle of seventh night
(surely He must have slept too)
to the gasp of a heart-dream,
caught between now and when,
here and just beyond.
Before I can take a breath
I am surprised by
a sudden sucking out
of all my secrets,
leaving little or nothing
to rely upon,
to believe.
Later it came,
quietly enough,
a milky opening of thought,
hinting to me of my own history.
A bright world unfolded
- the white celestial surface
of the universe,
upon which I traced my strange ways,
colored them the colors
of my deepest emotions,
my mind drifting toward
the borders of something
that came close to poetry - and art.
When I was created many years ago
I felt I was in pieces, so went with the flow
A piece of me here, a piece of me there
In fact I had pieces almost everywhere
I never gave it a great deal of thought
Until to my attention one day it was brought
Someone said gather all your pieces in
I tried to collect them but hopes were thin
My piece’s I found from everywhere
Just leaving one little space spare
Like the jigsaw incomplete
The statue with the clay for feet
One day someone said to me
I am this piece if you will let me be
The piece did fit and held me tight
Eons in coming but the timing just right..
My missing piece did me complete
Never now no more with clay for feet
A whole person I can now be
That is what this piece has done for me.
©23/03/2013 ~GG~
search for oddities
into space and time we squeeze
eons can be seen
through highly polished mirrors
on bitter cold night so clear
'The Accident' morphs
dim mysterious brown dwarf
skimming stellar turf
leaving possibilities
constitutes dark energies
lustrous Milky Way
is where we reside today
facing come what may
dusty gas, huge black holes hide
where galactic center glides
interstellar bliss
where supernovas exist
fireworks not to miss
proves the cosmos are alive
eternity will survive
for the non-earth bound
cosmic microwave background
has now hung around
over fourteen billion years
since Great Expansion appeared
sky watching sessions
cosmic history lessons
answering questions
when the universe was born
how our galaxy was formed
sitting in the dark
with conditions often stark
tracing heaven's arc
watching the vast cosmos flow
where true dreamers choose to go
8/18/18
At times it flooded
Flowers and plants stunted
Or successfully budded
Problems getting confronted
Always keeping it one hundred
Someone to be trusted
That is not cold blooded
And always leaving others gutted
To put it plainly
Moms said boy you're lazy
Now she says you're doing better lately
Sisters born in the eighties
I'm a nineties baby
Working daily
Going occasionally
Crazy
Trying to improve greatly
Never tried
To hide
Behind
A disguise
Experienced difficult times
Kept my eyes
On the prize
Staying wise
On the rise
Instead of telling lies
Every single day
Ayy
Going out my way
To get paid
Before my life starts to fade
And I'm cremated or in a grave
Paths being paved
My all shall be gave
So that lives can be saved
I'll always remain
Brave
And use my brain
Regardless if they join the wave
I always thought writing with a broken pencil was useless and pointless
But then I became a broken pencil myself
I became emptiness, a wilderness of my own thoughts
I became depression and healing all at once
But then I was my blank pages created with empty pieces of hope
Then there were my sharp edges and ink to begin my journey of a scowl life
Pain was my sharpness with everything I did leaving a mark of grace
Making visible my scars to be useless from the inside
I was a broken pencil written for the last time and my destination was changed
But then something was important for me to know that I had to turn problems to opportunity
That at some point broken pencils, lost erasers
But mine lost its mind to its broken heart
Poet
Masego Nkuna
The hillock, the bell
The swept terraces
The swept minds.
The white wood hall
The reflecting pools
The reflecting minds.
The weedless gardens
both in brain and curtilage.
The temple grounds.
The temple gives
flight.
The temple sounds
bird/wind, hush/shuffle
The temple sounds
right.
Some say all (I say many)
paths
lead to these courtyards.
Follow flower flows.
Wending ways, find one's way.
The middle path, the Wu Wei Way...
Many, many ways to find One Way;
to find one's way, to finally find,
to unwend one's way to home mind, to
No Mind.
Silences...
Echoing off Oms.
Poverties...
Bowls cradling alms.
Quietudes in multitudes,
of balding bones.
The chatterless babble of an unseen brook.
Torii, lotus, gravemarking gorinto, stupa, murti;
each here, each
forsook.
Cherry, Plum, and Chrysanthemum;
each a Zafu seed, each a mustard seed.
Verdant lives, wants fallen
as Autumn leaves. Needs.
And for the nun? And for the monk?
Each path of pilgrim's footfall
an invitation, a lure for the mind
at least, if not the heart,
to
depart.
1/10/21
It's gone
Far beyond
Phenomenon
Continually I stood strong
She asked for it, so I gave her the footlong
And put on a good song
Any problems I took on
And pushed on
Noticing anything that looked wrong
With some help from a good dog
It was clear as day, or put odd
Didn't bother me, others were offended and said "Good god!"
Bleeding now
Never was a meeting ground
Why are people so quick to put another human being down?
Just another thing I can be without
Often I took the scenic route
For a long time I've been speaking and reaching out
The results have been leaving doubts
Wasn't always of the same accord
Sometimes a sprinkle, and other times when it rains it pours
Why are you playing your
Cards wrong, that is one thing you'll be paying for
Already been down this road
Began to get old
It really started to hit home
Through life some tiptoed
Others were reckless, and it showed
By the s*** load
In the same or different zip codes
It’s not just bricks and mortar
Nor a distant memory
But the ground roots of our livelihood
And our future destiny.
As this place prepares to close
When the final bell will sound
To mark the end of education
On these few acres of ground
So as the winds of change
Whistle down St Andrews Street
Time to take a look behind
Before it beats the last retreat....
To days when health and safety
Had not bound us up in rules
When “clackers”, “chinas”, “conkers”
Were all the rage in schools.
Chocolate crunch with strawberry custard
Was “ haute cuisine” at dinners
And monitors patrolled the room
Catching non-veg eating sinners !
Then there were school productions
That often caused a rumpus
I was told I didn’t look fierce enough
As a pirate in Columbus
It’s where I learnt the facts of life
Red faced at every showing
We gathered in the dining hall
To watch “living and growing”.
Girls in groups around the field
Playing games with white elastic
Or spinning tubes around their heads
Making noises quite fantastic
And on those heady summer days
In the shade of orchard trees,
I’d have my packed lunch and my drink
Smelling hops upon the breeze.
Groups of boys in mass migration,
Was quite a common sight ,
Swarming like bees round honey
To the battle cry of “fight!”
“Top cat” was on the telly
And so was “ Hong Kong Fooey”
We all brought board games into school
On the feast day of St Louis
Queuing up in tennis courts
Then marching to assembly,
I doubt they had such crowd control
For the FA cup at Wembley.
The changing rooms down by the pool
Were not far from the gym,
Where ropes and box and benches
Were designed to do you in.
Bassets sherbet from the tuck shop
A treat beyond belief
Matched only by the popping
Of “space rocks” on your teeth
So when the corridors are empty
And the babbling voices still,
Theses echoes and these memories
Shall future musings fill .....
For it’s not just bricks and mortar
Not just a place to swat and cram
It’s where the building blocks of selfhood
Turn the boy into a man.
She personifies the rift between town
and gown in the city,
pageant pretty, in pale pinks pellet,
lace sleeved adorned,
like a primrose she stands prominent
a gringo cigarette in one hand
Mexico’s flag in the other,
her country ‘tis of thee
like the contrafactum
of an earlier English anthem
God Save the King,
American democracy
she paints her de facto
her homeland in turmoil,
under an anthropomorphized sun
lest the moon’s clash in her own sky
Olmec ruins, laid foundation
stone heads, deep-rooted cacti
leaving behind the natural nation
she’ll advance athwart
contra the cold chicken coop
industrialization’s smokestacks,
the iconic River Rouge Plant
ugliness versus beauty
a glossy façade?
homesick for her pagan past