Long Liberally Poems
Long Liberally Poems. Below are the most popular long Liberally by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Liberally poems by poem length and keyword.
Truly ... .
What-an-honor, this-sweet-grace ...
perfect a righteous gift-it-is.
The day waiting patiently-in the morning,
coffee-in-hand moccasin slippers-
waking-up-to-it-the-gentle-waterfall-awaiting-me ...
cascading-into-a-shimmering-crystal-
still-fresh-rippling, gently-churning-pool-of-dreams,
the many-wonders-of an alliterate life.
Breathing ... breathtaking-to be sure-it-is-a-chore-itself ...
it-takes-time.
Round and round-a throw-down-
in-and-out-tic-tock-goes the clock-
knock-it-down-drag-it out-
though-it-may-be-a-crucial, bloody,
treacherous seemingly listless brutal ...
bruising, got beaten-up-again, lowdown hoedown-
gasping-for air-sometimes-
discouraging ... kind of-a-thing ... .
Sill-so-it-gets-up-early-raring-to-go,
continues fighting ...
with mercy in hand-
forgiveness-taken-into-the-battle with-it,
it-can't be-lost.
Can't be lost.
Tender tales tall tell-timely
in-earnest the-fervency ... divinity-relevancy,
reality of-the-story.
Stars shine-cast-their-beauty-liberally ...
sheen's of glassy rays-of-overt light-
sparkle-freely-in-their delight-
under-the-moon-laughter ...
fills the-night ... .
Swallows in their benignity ...
wade about puff-up-full-and-billow ...
shadow's in their whimsy way,
cast their welcoming ...
in-the-warming,
as the weeping tree weeps.
Cool-pools shallow of-crystal-rock-and-alabaster-sands
promote their-gentle fondness upon the pond floor.
Kindred the swallows in-their-promise,
beauty-benignity ...
in-the-moonlight-they-are one with love,
and running felicitous ...
touched by the union
follows closely the dove ...
divinity has found a home.
Liberty residing-evolving-
evermore-abounding well-
beside desire,
the heart-makes-haste.
Peace stakes its claim in faith,
in-the-Son's-glorious-arrival, abandon,
absolution, return.
Cast-about-in-the gesture,
blowing-free-in the wind growing-
abundantly like the humming bird-
sipping on wild-honey-dripping-
fresh-in-the-rising Summer-Sun ... .
Splashing-onto dew-drops-
glistening as you-know-
they always do lying upon lilac-
flower petals, dandelions-
growing even-more-
elaborate-carried along-
with-the-blueberry-
cakes-popcorn-soda-
I've-just-consumed ... .
A baby gorilla's bedtime is a harmonic period when the bananas line up with little leaf rattles to softly croon to slumber the furry ball. Priceless is the process of pacification and pacifications are not prevalent in the pacific, the polar regions, nor do they play with piñatas in Paraguay. It is to be said that a tortoise shell footstool can rotate at great speeds do cast iron boots must be worn if placing one's feet upon the tapestry printed square form. The chime of lime is very very noisy but not as noisy as the incessant chatter and chuckling from the bowl of sugar cubes. Sugars state signalling shaped saying stuff silkily and silly too. But a mild mannered oxon could take a heifer to a ballroom but only if properly attired in a beach towel, sun glasses, three piece suit and a gown. Then an entrance can be made. With a thud. And a bellow. Brass bands made of cream donuts can entertain at this dance and the hall is quite packed with skimming skirts, scantily clad pea women, and the tidal spore has come dressed as a ringmaster but no whip for whips are for the underground stations and platforms of legs. Legality leaves legs lingering liberally. Akin to sprinkling a fine spray of salt across a plate of the towering vegetables. Piled high. Architectural really. Very mesmerising is the mist of a fine diner whose aroma lifts the air surrounding with a unjust uniquely identifiable stench. And stench drenched can be a wench, a bench but never a welk. For welk belong in tree houses and tree houses are not tables and not talking ash trays either. Ash trays do not modify a month of moon shaped mammoths. And a tree semi formed can bite so always walk very very very briskly when passing a thicket. Zoom then. Go on zoom. A zoom in a room. How rather entertaining and entertainment is equal to a climbing plant pot scaling a sky scraper. How great. Such feat with no feet. And how deserving of the medal at the Olympics of Oscar fish in an oceanographic weave of seafood cocktail with melon jus. Haha the wide mouthed octopi are singing gospel tunes to a small party of crabs. Ha the divinatory dogs diving definition digging dreams. Ha the musical mustard jar moving in time to the fish fork forte. Xxxxxx reciprocal z z z zzz. At ten loaves to forty seven slices of butter cake. Z z z z z z. 57294894907398%. Z
Form:
Trixie Light Wing, the lovely, lithe,16-year-old light-worker faerie,
was the first one awake in the prairie on this fine Spring morn.
She effortlessly dusted the grasses, the dandelions, the daffodils,
and the pink hydrangeas with pixie dust called Big Pix.
She had come by the Pixie Dust legitimately, because it had
been presented to her as a gift, for being a sixteenth-born.
Named Trixie Light Wing by the Pixies, the light-worker faerie,
lived up to her name, because she was an expert of tricks.
The dragons were still asleep in their cave when she liberally
dusted their front knocker with the Big Pix.
She knew it would be easier to do it now and ask for forgiveness,
than ask permission and be told “no”.
The dragons were known for their inability to see
another side of the story or even flex their own a bit.
Trixie felt jubilant that she had gotten past their door
without waking even the sweet and cute
2-seasons-old baby dragon, Little Joe.
The Flitzwillies were the first magical creatures
to wake up as were the rest of the Light-Workers, Tee and Bee.
Tee was an avid admirer of Trixie; she wanted to be like Trixie,
she wanted to act like Trixie, Big Bad Tee.
Bee was not so much an admirer, a light-worker with
a lone wolf type attitude, one in this prairie we rarely see.
Bee would have liked to stay in the dark cave and play
Video games all day long, rather than be friends to the Mee.
The Mee is what we call our cooperative made up of faeries,
dragons, and flitzwillies. I am one of them too.
My name is Khan, pronounced CAN, and I can do a lot of things
other mythical creatures are not allowed to do.
Probably because I am the princess, and my Mommy,
the queen, helps to make all the rules for the Mee.
Daddy doesn’t dare cross her, or she will add another
rule for him, and he already has thirty-three.
I decided to pull out all the stops today,
and play a trick on Trixie before she
Could play a trick on me.
Disguised as a little baby unicorn, I watched her
feed me an apple, and began to
Talk about how pretty I would be.
When I shape shifted back to myself, we laughed and
Laughed at my trick at her expense.
Then she pointed out that we could ride on
A Tilt-a-Whirl for only a sixpence.
And so we did.
Tender tales tall tell timely in earnest the fervency... divinity relevancy, reality
of the story. Stars shine bright cast their beauty liberally, sheen's of glassy rays of overt
light sparkle freely in their delight. Under the moon laughter... fills the night.
Swallows in their benignity... wade about puff up full and billow... shadow's in their whimsy
way, cast their welcoming in the warming, as the weeping tree weeps tears full as cool pool
shallows of crystal rock and alabaster sands promote their gentle fondness upon the pond
floor. Kindred the swallows in their promise, beauty-benignity... in-the moonlight they are one
with love, and running felicitous ... touched by the union follows closely the dove ... .
Divinity-has found a home.
Liberty residing evolving evermore-abounding well beside desire. The heart makes haste.
Peace stakes its claim in faith, in the Son's glorious arrival, abandon, absolution, return.
Cast about in the open gesture, blowing free in the ease of the wind growing abundantly like
the humming bird sipping on wild honey dribbling off the bees nests fresh in the rising
Summer Sun... .
Splashing onto dew drops glistening as you know they always do lying upon lilac flower
petals, dandelions growing even more elaborate carried along with the blueberry cakes
popcorn and soda I've just consumed... .
Yes mid the dance of the weeds love, is a gift, of life. Given perfect union, form, fashioning,
purpose. Advancing onward outward-upward throughout all within all around us surrounding
us as it grows.
And hearing the sweetness of its cry.
All in flight... birds-come fluff up billow grow full make their refuge-mid His wake... ! God's
Joy, illustrious welcome lay anew under the sky's elucidated everywhere and there, peace, is
here... every way and lea way dancing in and between the light, and as for now... time lye
still... . Is thrown about and back again, time and again everywhere asunder, and I-feel truly
He's saying to all of us... as again He states this to me...
"Take the time... friend... "Hold on"".
"I've got you... ."
"Everything... will be all right... !"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl-VCHzS1So&feature=related
Not that you asked,
or ever would feel free to inquire,
yet perhaps you grow ready to listen
to a voice inviting exit
from your,
and our,
long loneliness,
self-contempt,
isolation so shelled-over,
so embedded,
you are sure we are each and all
unredeemably alone
In our envy of others,
the positive deviants
with apparently healthy organic
and resonant
and resilient relationships
While we remain powerless to conjure enough curiosity
to discover
and/or rediscover
our own win/win potentialities,
personal
and political,
economic
and ecologically regenerative.
Depression conjures
dark apartness messes
all your own too-competitive fault.
But, your depression,
emotional and/or economic,
political and/or environmental,
like my own,
is no more or less your fault
than is Donald Oompa Trumpa President
of all anti-ecological wisdom,
a new ungreen post-millennial oxymoron,
and Earth's algorithmic degeneration
into lose/lose fragility,
And privileged human SuperEgo's declention
disarray
dismay
despair into xenophobic rabidity
oligarchical madness
global depression
mutual suppression
liberally invested in every thing
but love,
curiosity
recovering win/win birth canal memory,
a magical moment of hope for Earth's warm light
of lifetime win/win recovery.
Your depression is your fault
only in this warm right-brain accompaniment sense
of feeling and knowing we are a fluid,
yet stuck, State
that is our shared win/lose fault
of left-brain dominating culture
parsing compassion stingily,
saving for glorious and
win/win right-brain interdependent
un-lonely Rapturous sacred end.
But, as every community organizer
and integral permaculture designer
and restorative justice advocator
knows from win/win v win/lose v loselose
retributive v restorative justice experience,
we cannot end a resilient health-building project
that will include
any and all multicultural win/win faith
if we did not embody already inside
as we began
pushing through our original organic tunnel
toward Earth love's first light
and unmuted sounds
of greeting,
warm accompaniment
universal co-present love,
Hope
faith in EarthMother's warm feeding breast
from whence we each compassion came
come
and go.
When we lose access
to our most primal Other,
our EarthMother experience
dreamily following DNA's developmental scripts,
original sacred scripture
of external habitats
becoming internal identities,
We lose not only our spiritual sense of security
but also our natural taste for liberty,
independence,
Freedom to go out from our well-conserved womb
and subsequent multiculturing habitats,
home-base to liberally spread seeds of compassion
as we have always known our purposed meaning,
natural-spirited DNA
unfolding and infolding identity.
When personal identity loses access
to natural sight
we can still hear internal spirit memories.
When we lose access
to natural taste
we can still feel ancient spirits in our starving stomachs,
in our insecure and unfree
and too secure and unliberated
and right enlightened integrating
creolizing
co-acclimating guts.
When we lose capacity
to touch organic nature
we can still feel internal integral spirits,
most without self-conscious voices,
perhaps a few with cries for liberty
and security
or death.
We can smell nature
to know which unseeable spirited winds
waft from which directions,
up and down
left and right
north and south
past and future generations
of light's actively encultured hope, secure
and unfreedom in despair.
What we naturally lose
we organically incarnate DNA-integrity
gained so far
as individuals,
as species,
as multicultural becoming fragments
extending DNA-latticed families
tribes
living multi-generational laced-web systems,
Sometimes playing external nature with internal spirit Win to Win
for liberating compassion,
and sometimes playing sinister nature v spirit
secular outside v sacred inside detached win/lose
no longer actively securing and freeing enlightened restoration
of communal Truth and Beauty integrity;
DNA's future health/wealth
timeless nurturing
original wombs and integral webs
co-revolving health-wealth thrival.
When we retain conscious attachment
to our primal Other,
and Her primal Others,
our EarthMother experience
originates sacred re-scriptures
speaking through nature
and listening through secure and freeing spirits
of cooperative DNA health development
ego/eco-identity.
no (apparent) rhyme nor reason
(satisfactorily) explains academic
disposition, ideally suited
(swiftly tailor made,
and harried styled)
unflattering venomous wicked xhenemy
(fill in choicest expletive) damn cruelest
"meanies" always in season
winter, spring, summer, or autumn,
psychological rabid
bullying and teas'n,
which only exacerbated
ma deathly coffin and wheeze'n.
Avenging beastly, eagerly,
and hungry knuckleheads, rip-snorting,
analogous to Doctor Zeus
characters, vis a vis stomped,
and trampled upon my wuss
self, who appeared as
a listless, passive, puss
see footing, and
timid complex edifice
christened Matthew Scott Harris,
who regularly got pushed,
shoved, and verbally gored
in utero potential quintessential
no salvation from Unitarian lord
ugly vicious wretched
insults liberally poured
(pre snapchat, instagram,
hash-tagged age) roared
increased spell of losing measured
necessary pridefulness scored
requisite susceptibility toward
brow beating, name
calling, plus tossed
brickbats staged early life, viz
psychological schizoid state courtesy
hateful nemesis within
corporeal lodge warred.
malevolent habitués received
permanent residency thence
"green lighted" status
since birth I cannot sense
sub billy understand
(near) total recall
particularly names
no matter offense
of classmates and/
or teacher's, hence
especially dumb
founding since defense
less "boy" did not
shine as a star student
as is if he (me)
took emotional absence.
plus to add insult
to injury, my mouth
stayed hermetically shut,
near invisibility designated nut
tin beat pluperfect
"scapegoat de jure,"
such intimidation found me
feeling thrashed in the gut
where (stellar) qualifications
only made cut
ting worse, (essentially attributed
to genetically inscribed
behaviors, characteristics,
habits, et cetera)
immediately designated yours truly
most puny, and
quietest convenient but
of any atheistic, ethnic,
and/or idiotic jokes.
Tell me less and last
about who and what and why you hate
with militant might.
Speak with me more and first
about who and what and why you love
with brilliant bright.
I will listen all this day
and next,
all my life
if your voice can positively project
long enough to leave no time at all
for hate
and anger,
envy and fear of losing
who and what and why we love
our synergetic health
and not our too violent fragments of pathology
Rambling on
in front of unmediating microphones and cameras
about who and what and why
healthy nutrition and nurturing natures
of vulnerable Others
compete for your empowered
disempowering disdain,
While no lover
with a healthy mind and heart
would ever care to listen
this day and night.
Nor our next,
We have so many warmer,
yet not too warm,
vulnerable,
transparent,
courageous,
curiously co-arising days and nights
for peaceful dialogue,
discernment,
endearing conversation.
Even in that heated time
of Declaring Independence,
when hate and anger and fear
against privileged white male royalists
and their loyalists
and their unwealthy terrorists
and their unhealthy reality manufacturists
ran revolutionary high,
we boldly spoke in democratic constitutions of love
about wellness,
pursuits of happiness,
and cooperative prosperity
more memorable
than historic hates.
What attorneys advocate
and statues of Liberty
and active peace lovers hear
in and on this day
are first through last restoring health wealthiness,
equal dignity,
freedom for individuals
families
local communities
to pursue our just dignity
and wellness peace together
with democratic inclusive integrity,
liberally lavish love.
Historic hate and anger and fear
are dark memories still within us
in our sacred State of independent declarations,
yet these fade into our unloved history
of economic and political servitude
lack of benign royal gratitude,
and are not this today revolution's healthy attitude
for who and what and why we love
this Interdependence Day.
Speak with me first and more
about who and what and why you love
with brilliant bright.
I will listen all this green and glorious day
and next night,
all our loved and loving life.
Nationalism,
like other faces of narcissism,
multicultural cynicism speaks in ways devoid of integrity,
authenticity,
global transparency,
empathy,
active power and authority of and for,
from and toward, resiliently positive energy,
compassionate wealth of health,
resonant power,
regenerative EarthPassion,
more like internationalism,
like other faces of polycultural embrace
v monoculturism's attacks
Psychological, and yet political,
neurological, and yet also macro-economic,
ecological, but holistically E-CoOperative Networked,
messianic, yet also eco-bodhisattva theocratic,
non-violent commissions
and enthusiastically non-sectarian sacred missions,
universal Yang with unitarian Yin truth with beauty principles,
LeftBrain bipolar, except within RightBrain dipolar, co-passioned,
ZeroSum secular Energy Resilience
winning by also winning ZeroZone Light/Power sacred Source
Healthy paradigmatic systems
re-engaging intuitively wealthy FlowPower,
Here co-arising not not Now, again reiterating
WinWin 4D space within ZeroSum bilateral time-range
Political and economic arts of proportion,
balance,
symmetry,
ego/eco-passion
informed by LeftBrain articulating rational sciences,
deep learning authentic nutritional values
for yang's egalitarian trust-conserving system strengths
with yin's compassionate energy/power,
liberally effluent, yet deductively efficient, resilience
Across full-color living canvases
dynamically revolutionary lyrics
indigenously positive deviant choreography,
Power and energy creation paradigms
multiculturing robust evolutionary health-flow charts
mapping effectively co-operative reverse-hierarchies,
eco-art cooperative therapies for political and economic ego sanctuary,
co-passionate expression
Left with Right,
West with East,
North with South
polypathic multicultural power/energy
feeding ego's Earth CoPassion
Communicating across resonant bilaterals
far more resiliently than mere nationalistic
ballistic narcissism's
short-term
anti-empathic
survival of the not fit-iningest diverse non-violent health strategies,
integrity policies,
non-partisan procedures,
non-sectarian passions.
Once a friend of mine invited me for lunch
A celebration he planned for his book launch,
The book was on traditional Indian cuisine, I knew
No very different from its modern cousin or new.
I was hesitant to join for my stomach was upset
He pleaded with me, let the plan not get upset.
I must join the friend’s party, how could I say no
For it was a special event in his life, I should know.
He would take care, being an accomplished chef
For me, he assured, food would be entirely safe.
I decided to not enter into a friendly row
But to go, occupy a chair in the back row,
Enjoy the lunch as best I could to the last course
And not utter a word about stomach, of course.
I went for the lunch on a winter day quite chilly
Vowing to avoid the food items with lots of chilli.
Through morning my friend made things all ready
For the party he threw, guests had arrived already.
While cheese and toast rested untouched for a while
We proposed a toast to his success as a chef of style.
Matching the rhythm of our warm and soft whine
Rose red wine rose and swirled in shining glasses thin.
I was delighted to see on the table dishful curd
So much good for my stomach, I shouldn’t discard.
The fat naan was so liberally buttered all over
None possibly would have eaten in their life ever,
Flat bread made of finest flour of well bred wheat
Looked like blooming flowers on the floral plate.
The flavor of famous basmati rice as it would rise
I would favor to have it instead of bread to be wise,
Sprinkle of spring onion with smell of spring in fish curry
Added to the gastronomic delight, a treat far to carry,
Meat in gravy with basal green layer of fresh basil leaf
Could meet the culinary acumen of any expert chef,
The salad of beet root, leek, lime and touch of olive
Could beat any such combo in the world, I believe.
Before scoops of ice cream could bury the red berry
The dessert disappeared as if in desert heat in a hurry.
My friend’s hospitality won the hearts of one and all,
Thanking him amply we departed before the nightfall.
We expressed the appreciation for the food aloud
As much as our satiated minds sincerely allowed.
December 3, 2017.