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.
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.~
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
Regrets
Regrets bleeding into an endless ocean,
I discover myself falling through infinity.
Grasping, unconsciously, the reality of the world.
Icy air warms my skin.
I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m dying.
When will I find peace?
Buried into the earth in a crystal coffin,
A spotlight in the heavens.
Does perfection exist?
What is real, if not painful,
A truth I loathe to envision;
Silent cries from the depths of hell.
Lucidly traversing a dark road,
My mind is a specific kind of torture.
Searing intensity blockading my façade.
An epiphany whispering secrets of the universe,
Burning me alive,
Drowning in self-deprecation.
I’m trapped in my subconscious,
Relishing in silence.
Who will I become?
Prostituting my morals
For a fleeting sense of wellbeing.
Bathing in gold,
Melting away my obscenity.
My mind is a rose,
Poisoning everything in vicinity.
Blood filling the crevices of deceit,
Overwhelmed by uncertainty.
Struggling to breathe,
Starving my heart into obedience.
Overseeing my descent into an unlit stairwell,
My innocence has been stolen.
Bones scattered into the wind,
Human beings thrown away like garbage.
Recycling a sense of obligation;
Fear overshadowing compassion.
Slipping into a generous comatose,
Fantasizing about pillaged maturity.
A byproduct of selfishness,
Vaporized into a seething hatred.
A fog clouding my sight;
I’ll never escape.
Swinging in elementary school,
Now smiles are a rarity.
Sinking in a sea of blood,
Pictograms of self-loathing.
Laughing to protect myself from reality.
Why does pain exist?
Sailing through life blindly,
Regrets staining my past.
Struggling against an immovable force,
Staring at the wall.
My ancestors cry as they are hunted,
Screaming as they burn.
Regrets that can’t be changed,
The hunters smile.
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
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
I am the MILKY WAY.
I am Mechanically Meticulous,
Maneuvering my way through life with
Malleability,
not showing the true Masterpiece of my Mind
(complex like the Milky Way).
I am an Interworking of
1% Idiocracy,
10% Ineluctable,
15% Incisiveness,
5% Insufficient,
7.5% Insatiable,
2.5% Invisible,
10% Infantile,
and
50% Incomprehensible,
101% of Ian
(A puzzle).
I am a Lionheart Lilium
Lucidly blossoming into a
Lackadaisical dimension
in which I Long to Liberate
my ideas from the Lucifer-Likeness of
the universe that I Live in
(My ideas are being confined).
I am a Kinetic force to be reckoned with,
put on a Kollision Kourse from
Konception to Katastrophe
eradicating those in my way,
(I can’t be stopped)
I am Young,
Yearning for wisdom ahead of my Years,
Yet Yoked by the Youth-like longing
of my elders
(caged by the generations of adults wishing to be a child, keeping me child-like).
I am Weary,
Wainscoted with Worry,
by the World I once Welcomed With Wide arms,
Wondering When the Worries created by my past Will
Wither away
(distressed by my past).
I Am An Adventurous
Apollo 1,
Abstracted then Awakened by the
Annihilation of myself,
forced to Admit
Absolute failure,
but then Amazed by the gate of success
(I do Fail, but I must learn from failure).
I am Yawning
at the Earth’s attempt to impress me,
Yet I Yell eternally
at it’s ignorance to the
great wonder that I contain.
I am the MILKY WAY.
11/8/21
Such things could not easily be duplicated
Let the truth be illuminated
Too sedated
Super faded
At times I hallucinated
And often ruminated
Woke up the next day feeling terrible or rejuvenated
And recuperated
Ready to do it all again a true statement
Another eye got enucleated
The moon going through lunar phases
In the background the music faded
Another thing seen predictably or a mystery soon awaited
Meanwhile always those who hated
And continue making comments and stupid faces
You don't know the half
Yet you're so quick to judge and laugh
It's still the same old typical crap
In the light of day or when it's pitch black
Still drunk and so high
Paying all this B.S. no mind
During high and low tide
Close and far from road signs
For now it's go time
All along the coast line
As the wind blows by
Done lucidly
Speaking truthfully
Usually
I would partake in the foolery
Faced a lot of scrutiny
Folks caught up on being a pillar of the community
Others in a state of lunacy
Another step closer to a eulogy
In a world full of cruelty
Much of it carried out brutally
The rest of it done dutifully
And beautifully
For a long time I stood neutrally
It's all no longer of use to me
There's soon to be a mutiny
For ill will or equal opportunity
the moon shining lucidly upon the sea…
nothing could taint this beauty,
the gentle breeze coursing through my hair;
the feeling of pain and sorrow all leaving with the wind.
even the blind could see the beauty of this night,
my heart is in complete serenity.
the stars are out only to add to the beauty;
what a view i have from this cliff on which i stand…
all this beauty real, no masquerade here,
all alone in this place of breath-taking beauty;
the only way this could be any better is if someone was here beside me.
the night sky is in such serenity.
the clouds moving in oh so ominously…
but the beauty still isn’t fading,
the breeze is slowly picking up,
a strange sense of tension is arising in the sea…
waves mercilessly hitting the rocks just a few hundred yards below.
the sea is filling with such despair.
the wind is growing cold and fraught with an odious scent…
the beauty is still here but i’ve been struck with a sense of fear
such a strange change to occur so quickly and unannounced…in the air,
a sudden change is also occurring in my heart,
being alone and the loathsome setting is bringing out my wicked side…
the air is feeding off my malice.
Angie’s blind eyes wander aimlessly in their sockets,
one white as the belly of a snake, the other a pointless blue.
She has one dress she wears every day, and a cane that is
without tip and has lost most of its red paint.
In the building she has memorized even the pale illusions
well enough to scoot about without hesitation.
She likes no one.
She likes me.
Thinks she is JFK, talks of herself quite lucidly and with
deadly accurateness.
Found herself a spirit-lover, asked me to perform a
marriage ceremony for them. It’s a sad
life with no one in it, although that does not apply to me,
who loves my self-imposed isolationism beyond reason.
I find a pretty stone broach, a stuffed teddy bear holding a
red satin heart that says, “I love you…” and a doll with
ribbons in its hair - these were her dowry.
I say the words over my open Bible, inviting blasphemy
to call out my name.
Now, she has become a Velcro-shadow.
When I am ill her zeal to cure me is fanaticism incarnate.
Foolish woman, I - who chose her own path to trod,
but along the way tripped over a crippled bird that is sure
to peck her to death.
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