Long Lucidly Poems

Long Lucidly Poems. Below are the most popular long Lucidly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lucidly poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Tumbling from Thought as Inverted Ascension

The Tumbling from Thought as Inverted Ascension

from a shore of thought chipped sculpted in the memory of clear forgetting,
I tumbled upward toward memory that forgets remembering everything,
and at dawn of smile too labored rested in its cheerful weariness,
a longing overshadowed me illuminating ghosts of fulfilled unfulfillment!

through that chasm unexpected awaited the incantation of talkative silence,
I drugged myself lucidly with a word of sincere deception and mendacious truth,
it was only the dark radiant one of my chance missed with success,
eternal mortal kin just as often I rarely happened upon it in dream.

built in the non-beginning continuous end interrupted by a hasty idyll,
in the delight of shameless bashful immodest and chaste modesty heavily,
and now curse blessing so may you die living in dead life,
in your mind heavily sick healthy with the grave full emptiness of the body.

of glory humility and your lips will be stiffened loosely mobile,
struck in waves by the stillness of solid water that flows fixedly,
journey galactic earthly sun manifestly hidden of our first love,
to the immortal ephemeral cult of our living statue in soft stone!

to the wink of an eternal kiss that lasts an eternity of a second,
the shore of chipped thought tumbles me upward climbing into the tall abyss,
the dawns of labored idleness overshadow me with their opaque light,
ghost of fulfilled unfulfillment in the full emptiness of our glory!
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member My Job

Christians speak of Original Sin and  
Buddhists of Primordial Ignorance  
obscuring our Original Nature -  
primordially pure, radiantly clear, lucidly awake.  

My body and my mind know nothing   
of this nature,  
since their habits are otherwise, 
without the blessing of lineage to point out  
there is something more than sin and ignorance,  
something those two continually defile and ignore. 

My body and mind are ignorant, 
but that’s just the illusion they prefer.  
My job is to train them otherwise. 
 
(10/22/2021, originally published in my 5th book of poems and stories, EXTRACTING THE ESSENCE, 2021)

Premium Member The Flower of Eden, lyrics

Gasping as she glimpses out of the 2D                          
The majestic colors full and in 3D                               
Beholding the markings of the Master hand          
Within the frame, expanding life in the land   
Ever all knowing the Painter understands         
As her thoughts develop lucidly aglow                   
Gaining knowledge until she finally knows    

Light and dark
The sky and sea
Sun and stars,
Then finally, thee
Born from the heart
In God’s own face
Her name is Em Kol Chai
The life, not sin, she gave
Equal in the image
An ezer kenegdo
The soul beside the soul
Not beneath, but whole

Star dusts molded for her mortal’s uniform       
In the shape and image of the Artist’s form           
By placing her in the Garden of Eden       
To blossom alongside the one called Adam   
In the realm of choice granting sin or freedom     
An unblemished plan, She and He let her go    
Nurturing from afar and watching her grow   

Light and dark
The sky and sea
Sun and stars
Then finally, thee
Born from the heart
In God’s own face
Her name is Em Kol Chai 
The life, not sin, she gave
Equal in the image
An ezer kenegdo
The soul beside the soul
Not beneath, but whole

She is born of the image, not to blame
The Song of God not the serpent’s name
And from her comes forth all souls 
She is the house of the soul
 The mother of the world

Light and dark
The sky and sea
Sun and stars
Then finally, thee
Born from the heart
In God’s own face
Her name is Em Kol Chai 
The life, not sin, she gave
Equal in the image
An ezer kenegdo
The soul beside the soul
Not beneath, but whole
© G. Jay  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member The Master Create Her

Gasping as she glimpses out of the 2D                          
The majestic colors full and in 3D                               
Beholding the markings of the Master hand          
Within the frame, expanding life in the land   
Ever all knowing the Painter understands         
As her thoughts develop lucidly aglow                   
Gaining knowledge until she finally knows    
Star dusts molded for her mortal’s uniform       
In the shape and image of the Artist’s form           
By placing her in the Garden of Eden       
To blossom alongside the one called Adam   
In the realm of choice granting sin or freedom     
An unblemished plan, She and He let her go    
Nurturing from afar and watching her grow   


Updated 5/14/2019
© G. Jay  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member African Moonflower On a Moon Day

                      Moonflower with white trumpet-shaped bloom
                      Dewy emerald leaves surround in nights gloom.
                      Cased in rich soil beneath a quarter moon.
                      Planted vines loosely knit—by my bedroom they sit.
                      Sweet fragrance they emit— to incense I submit.
                      Stunning tropic morning glories amaze
                      Sunlight and moonlight upon them gaze.
                      Phantasmic nightlamps in jade landscape haze.
                      Night’s primrose, moonglow calls—unveiling enthralls.
                      Dangling shadowy shawls— glistening waterfalls
                      Flowery white faint lavender tones loom.
                      Oh sleepy Moon by day lucidly lit,
                      Behold twilight’s glimmer on garden’s walls:
                      Gibbous Moon’s gleam suspending in a daze.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet


Never Being Accursed By Words

Soul, still drifting in the subtle calmness,
undaunted and adamant;
never being effected by malicious intent,
never being accursed by words... 


Use extreme caution when transversing boundaries
of strange lands inhabited by mediums,
who are the seers that wish to replace God;
accept no invitation by affirming their cult...


Wise heart,, live according to your beliefs,
faithful and changeless:  never revere a false god,
the gold-adorned one who glitters
with the utter pretense of being the golden sun...


Preachers abound like the eagles of the Appalachians Mountains;
they relentlessly rove to snatch whoever is feeble,
to convert them to their preposterous creed;
I have seen many fall from grace and ask for forgiveness...


How wonderful and liberating is to live
never being accursed by words, or attached to fatal feelings of hurt;
how delightful and inspirational is to achieve
every possible joy that only faith can guarantee with a simple oath...


Footsteps, be attentive and shrewd,
look out for the one slandering with the tongue of the lewd;
eyes, judge people by their external appearance to minimize danger,
the distrustful look reflects the turmoil of their soul lucidly molded by Lucifer...   


Compassion can mitigate the misery of a miscreant,
and possibly transform his or her appearance with repentance,
never being accursed by words hailed from angry mouths;
if execution is justice, death won't change anybody's heart...  


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Form: Quatrain

A Heavenly Conversation

After a quite long time
Leaning on dad's shoulder warm
Like a newly speaking child
Babbling trivial stories wildly

Showing my poetry on soup's first book
Sharing the biscuit ice-cream I cooked 
Asking him to review the paintings I've drawn
And complaining badly about the relatives gone

Ravished by his sudden arrival
I saw a gleam of hope in survival
When I was lucidly expounding the episodes 
All he did was Laughing out loud

" Hey, kutti, Do you think I've been faraway?
Don't you know I can't go anywhere away?
I am still here watching all the happenings
Now, come, just relax and speak to me"

Uttered he, subtly in my dream 
The warmth, the caress, the secured feel
Made me feel the plot so real and surreal 
Oh! How I wish the dream not to end!

Feb 10 2022
Form: Rhyme

Ode To My Neighbour the Woodpeckers

By Sashi. Prabhu(zeauoxian) 1/3/2012.

Often, I glimpse from my roof top garden, leftward,
From the sedentary swing but I know the descent of woodpeckers have soared.

From the vertical column sans  a crown of leaves  of rotted dead wood,
Once, which was in its own right a magnificent coconut tree where it stood.

Freshness, splendor, Vitality and flexibility of a live tree all depleted and gone,
T’was a pertinent choice for the woodpecker mates to build a home foregone.

Abundantly birdies flock, Pigeons, robins, mynahs, hornbills, cranes and parrots,
On the evergreen nearby tamarind tree, but the woodpeckers my eyes  ferrets.

From that eventful day my eyes they set upon,
Their wood pecking bills  would on the bark sculpt and impinge on.

A homely hole to drill,
Their head moving rhythmically and looks like a cap with red frill.

Twenty five days back they first arrived I lucidly recollect,
Ten days, a pair of hatched altricial chicks, mates from adversaries’ have to protect.

One morn had me glancing to the oval cavital hole on the bark,
And feasted my eyes on feeding chicks being readied, their lives to embark.


Blissful and content , I recollect now  I sat a bit longer to observe and discern,
Glorious hues, auger bill, cap with red frills, of the peckers as they take their unambiguous turns.

To zip across like beige, buttery yellow plumaged darts across the lush foliage all green,
Within, watchable bounds to fetch, insects, worms and saps as nutriment routine.

The chicks I saw they peek out of the shielded barky holes with awe,
Strength it seems to me have filled their wings bill and sharpened claw.

Now I wonder if I can listen to the joyous feminine “chrr”
and the  shrill masculine “kwirr”.

As the young chick in the hole frolicking, giving it a try to fly,
Away in the wide world after saying a good bye onto the sky very high…………

Now the mates without emotions, kerfuffle and ado,
To each other, their home and their prying neighbour me have bid   “adieu”.

Often, I glimpse from my roof top garden, leftward,
From the sedentary swing but I know the descent of woodpeckers have soared
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Inner Visions

Blinks of teary-filled eyes see on at a diplegic self 
yet mindful transparency is willing me back
Back to my body as sinful warning zones 
alarming   have  deluged  my mind 
Seized are my winks , my signals ,  codes in tact
I deemed the eye of imagination unkind
The intruder remains faceless knowing anon
I’m entrusted to an astral body and its danger
Spiritual warnings of facultas cognoscitive,
Descartes’ existence of corporeal self, even stranger
I am conscious and sure these be blessings
Or maybe an unconscious of the intueoritive
and what I immediately perceived were passion’s messing’s 
with  the  right amount  of  awareness to shift
Senses much livelier and much more clear,
lucidly  leaving the   "physical world"   adrift
Diplegic with a clarity of intelligo of an unhinging fear
Practiced, I am using my symbols with inner sight 
and a poetic aptitude, my mindset re-sets a dream                                     
A vision appears to me, it appears to be my hand 
penning quickly, a dream within a dream, I re-write
the script and scenes which aren't what they seem
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Dream Collection 3 and a Real Life Experience Friends

Dreaming shows you many hidden things in your mind; it opens you to alternative thinking…
What are friends? Are friends someone you can trust? What is trust? What is trusting? I've always asked myself this, but never really answered it... Friends are always something I have struggled with.

How does someone become your friend? Is it an unspoken thing? A mutual agreement? A strive to be popular? Or is it a feeling that everyone has?

Throughout my elementary years I had 6 friends. Brandon, Mattia, Isaac, Matthew, and 2 girls, Emily and Sydney. When I hit 5th grade, Isaac, who was my best friend, moved away.

I had one big problem, people who I saw as friends, weren't really friends. There were a lot of things said behind my back and people would use me as a fall guy.
Onto my dream...
My dreams as a kid, before I trained myself to lucidly dream, were, as far as I knew, real. And to be honest, for the most part I don't know what was a dream and what wasn't... 

I remember the new "cool" game to play was ZAP... If you don't know what zap is it is pretty much you put a name on a  hand and a time and they can't look at it until that time or they must ask them out. This also happened to be the time the term "gay" had hit my school, so I had a guys name written on my hand. So once I found out what it was I went and washed it all off. so as we went back in class everyone who fell to peer pressure which was pretty much everyone but me got in trouble.

Now I told the teacher I had it at one time but I washed it off at lunch because Iw anted to be honest.... She just said that was the right thing to do.... But everyone started laughing at my calling me gay and such because it was a guys name... So when asked who satarted it someone said ask the gay kid.... Well of course I got blamed with it so I was sent to the principal with not one, but two reasons to be in trouble... I woke... got ready for school, and as I was getting to school guess what I saw? A new friend, and its name was Zap.....

What is a true friend? Is it someone who will stand for you? Someone who is always there? Do you have a true friend? Do you trust that person? Now answer that again, do you really? Ask yourself a third time, how do you really know they are your friend?

P.S. Thank you all for all the support, I have really appreciated all the positive feedback on my work... Jarrod D.~

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