Long Lower Poems
Long Lower Poems. Below are the most popular long Lower by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lower poems by poem length and keyword.
Let’s explore things and no-thing
Where no-thing is not an object
How then may it be recognised
Unless the manifest we reject
Let us look at boundaryless space
It is both immanent yet transcendent
Having no attribute yet holds all that is
Entire existence upon space is dependent
From subatomic particles to vast galaxies
All pervading space is an invisible womb
It’s the first thing we see but yet ignore
What it is we cannot even assume
God’s omnipresent, so is He space
To discern the truth just drop lower mind
For thought too is an object in consciousness
Save in deep meditation the truth we cannot find
Renowned theosophists time and again have affirmed
That enigmatic space both immediate and intimate
Is the unchanging screen of God’s awareness
Within which myriad life forms gyrate
When single pointed be pristine attention
Without any object including thoughts at play
Metaphorically speaking, we disappear in the void
Then not attaining but becoming a luminous sun ray
Melding with space we become That that has no name
The Self without attribute, no-thing that has no labels
Renewing itself within itself in time stretched peace
We recognise deepest truths spoken of in fables
22-March-2023
let me live in each moment
and feel the whispering of an endless love,
as it holds me silently in its warm embrace . .
- i am captivated -
simply swept away, by your amazing grace
it happened once upon a time,
in the harmony of words;
as the playful touch of a gentle breeze -
touched all of me,
i am free
and my heart found peace in the soothing symphony,
of everlasting bliss-
yes, my world cradles around you
so let me live in your heart forever,
and these tiny seconds that caress;
the whispering of an endless love
__________
~ because i want to be your everything ~
* a little romantic scribble *
Authors note: Endless Love - the piano version I had playing while I wrote this, as it set a beautiful mood for me. While reading these words, it needs to be playing in the background. Only if you choose to, you don't have to.
Also, there are many poems that I have written that are my favorite. This is one of them.
I like writing in lower case sometimes, as it is like a whisper upon the page.
I’ve not been here. I’ll nearly 2 days. This really happened. Enjoy, I hope. And you be wellM
Dancing in a Fever Dream
Ill. From inside a fever. Asleep. I
Began to dream
That I was teaching a ballet class
Wherein I began to demonstrate
The four movement sets for the arms.
And, a sudden moment of deja vu
From a previous dream that may have come
During hours earlier, at the start of the fever,
During which I became frustrated,
Unable to recall the second set of motions and
Had turned over to some dream-free sleep,
But in today’s dream in fever, I
Moved, again leading the class, suddenly
Exhilarated as I , motioning arms, had
A physical memory return of the most eloquent
Of the four: the second port de bras motion set.
In the dream, I did it to be sure of the recollection.
I started through the four steps, done to
A count of eight...so, rais both arms,
1...2 as around a hoop forward. Then,
3. 4, Raise right arm up in an open, arc forward,
With the left arm arced down behind. Then
5 - 6. Is a great sweep to make the pose as a
Complete opposite, left arced up front, right to rear.
7. A breath lifting chest and arms so slinky a raise, elan!
8. Arms lower down to sides, by thighs.
It was this I was teaching in my fever dream,
Counting as I modeled the motions, so happy
I’d remembered, but in the long sweep of the 6 to 7,
I felt rough jostling as my name was shouted.
I’d been teaching, too, outside the fever dream :
A sleeping reality as if awake, by motions and voice,
With swaying arms and called numbers.
“That was weird,” my husband announced.
“Just really weird,” he pronounced: a word unliked.
It was a funny thing to happen, I thought.
And I was happy to realize from decades ago,
From deep in my mind, I’d brought forth again
The 2nd port de bras, with the confidence
Of teaching once again. A joy to know so!
Not “weird.” Maybe “strange.” I laid smiling.
—————————————————————
(c) sally Young eslingerP
Bliss throb rising, our form enveloping
Unbound is joy, in dance of innocence
Delighting benign currents cascading
Mindful cognisance of subtle nuance
Inner balance, invokes divine cadence
Nodes within aligning, love caressing
Grace essence felt by inner sentience
Bliss throb rising, our form enveloping
Heart inviting, magnetism delighting
Egos penance, this carefree dalliance
All embracing, smiling child so playing
Unbound is joy, in dance of innocence
Heavenly fragrance, fortifies patience
Accepting our life force slowly ebbing
Erect stance reveals its luminescence
Delighting benign currents cascading
No doing needed, on earth journeying
Save stillness and silence continuance
Fickle fears ceasing, fearlessly flowing
Mindful cognisance of subtle nuance
Divine effervescence, our quintessence
We are here for loving, giving, growing
Lower mind urges, keep at a distance
Trusting Gods touch, allowing enabling
Bliss throb rising
03-July-2021
Hold your head high never forgetting your ambitions to excess.
Offer yourself time to muster courage for each goal without distress.
Praise yourself, don't wait for others, do it with finesse.
Engulf yourself in the knowledge, that you will fly through it, to success.
&
Ask yourself if I you're ready to do your best, don't settle for less.
Make sure you continue when your answer is YES.
Be resourceful to achieve each goal ahead of time to impress.
Instill a pride in yourself that you find you can live by, without stress.
Tell yourself you can, all you need is the ability that you possess.
If the wind doesn't fill your sails start rowing to progress.
0ver deliver on any task, after a lower promise you address.
New challenges should be attacked with determination and prowess.
"My Muse is my pen, my words, my poetry,
my artistry, without Muse all is dead within me."
Quote _Constance
Oh,
inside of
me dwells a
voice I call Muse.
Mostly just whispers
but, he never ever leaves me
I have a great affection for Muse
and my feelings are mixed up with his.
Sometimes, Muse I wish for total solitude
could you lower your piercing, demands please.
In the loudest roar, Muse insists that I listen
he does not care if I am sleeping in bed
or I am going for a sweet nature walk
that voice is thunderous and loud.
Stop dearest and write a poem
for this is so important
your pen must drip
we have words to
share in ink
now.
______________________________
January 03, 2019 (Repost)
Poetry/Verse/I Love Muse
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1450-531-03
All Rights Reserved, 2019, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, My Loudest Feelings
sponsor, Caren Krutsinger, Judge 01/2019
First Place
Submitted into the Standard contest, POEM ON POETRY MUSE
sponsor, Beata Agustin, Judged 04/29/2022
First Place
self-interview
Was communism good for Europe
did it give workers dignity and spawn socialism?
Yes, but in the end, it became a terror regime
is socialism good for Europe? Yes, it changed the way we think it could have been a darker place,
but is always against the freedom of expression
Capitalism offers unlimited freedom but also lower
pay, long working hours, a lower standard
of living and drugs in hopeless streets, mass unemployment import of workers from foreign countries riots and starvation leads to a new revolution
Is globalization good for the people
no, it produces leaders like Macron and will only benefit the rich
what can be done?
whatever type of "ism" we choose, we must protect
our borders and make war a criminal offense
Religion is another tyranny that opposes free thoughts
which is the only prerogative that separates
humans from the beast
Gone I am..sure as the sea rolls over the bones of the deep
Gone is Tikvah, gone is hope, gone as so many Jewish brides
from history in the guises placed upon them by gentiles.
All who chose to remember at all, name me Typkia Friedberg..
Ah but, Hershel, my dear, was merely from the town of Friedberg.
Third class we were, entertainers not what either parents
had wanted for their kinderlekhs, there darling children.
When the warning horns sounded, we were entertaining the others.
Hershel with the wee piano on his back, and I
dancing and playing around him in a whirl of skirts.
The room was packed, the clink of beer mugs and laughter
All stilled slowly in disbelief as a clarion call of horn filled the room.
Eyes moments before full of life now haunted the space,
knowing not the way upward, out of the hidey-hole nest of the lower decks.
As the crowd surged from the room, hopelessly, we retreated
hand in hand yet we were torn apart.
Hershel fell and the crowds surged over him, crushing him piano and all
to the carpeted floor of the hall, mere steps from the stairwell.
He screamed for me to run. Eyes, hands, feet, knees elbows
no hope, no hope at all of any movement but upward with the throng.
Up one level I made it, clothes in tatters, scratched and bleeding
and then I too fell, under the boot heels of passengers.
I do not rest beside my Hershel, yet with my last breath, I cried
“Mother, mother you will never met him now.”
My dear, my heart, for before the Titanic ever sunk, we died.
*It has been said there was a newly married couple
the woman called Typkia Friedberg aboard the Titanic
but her name does not appear nor her husbands in the records.
Survivors spoke of the couple and the woman family from Chicago.
I do not believe the names are correct for Typkia is not a name
not a Jewish name but a word meaning journal, diary and Freidberg
is the town where the pianos for the Titanic were made.
Tikvah is a Jewish woman's name and means Hope.
Hershel means deer.
VI.
Can’t forget the mainstream media types,
all partisans and proud of it,
the right-wingers see right through their charade,
and rate their word lower than spit.
But the left’s legions of rank and file
still think that what they speak is real,
when they proclaims folks Nazis every day
what as those poor people to feel?
In the lust to attack a president,
they fill the air-waves with their lies,
make the unaware think doom is coming,
when in fact we are flying high.
The dissonance builds up inside these folk,
until the stress burns out their brain;
media leftists, the worst of the worst,
they’re driving these people insane.
Verizon payment arrangement -
due november fifteenth two thousand nineteen
Yours truly long time
satisfactory Verizon customer
i.e. namely this monsieur
breathes easy, cuz within noggin
contentment doth whir
billing agent pleasant as
Mister Rogers neighbor.
Great relief pending bill
$148.80, she did defer
'pon my explaining
lack of adequate funds
I did forthrightly inform her
social security disability
electronically deposited door
ring first week of next month
and without dad dough of shout for sure
upon being told, I got no cell phone,
she (courteous billing representative)
waived attendant fee
reflexive generous extempore,
such simple random act of kindness
suffused within me to core
of central processing unit
circuits comprising fatherboard decor
rum lit up analogous to Christmas tree
generating sense and sensibility of euphoria
buoying spirits in severe contrast wherefore
once pawn time... couple nights backs,
I got attacked courtesy small escritoire
after losing balance attempting to stand
from crouched position immediately more
than less unsteadily, veritably, wobbly...
fell back felt desk corner explore
right side ribcage felt brunt edge bore
ring into body, yet
dressed to keep warm
blunt right angle wood frame did score
jabbing, nearly goring thru jacket
feeling searing pain shoot pour
sting as if struck with lightning
resigned to crawl crablike fore
word bracing lower body
while daggers of agony
did not lesson, I did implore
in vain sincerely your deplore
hubble basketcase - reed
no repeat performance nor encore!