Long Lumens Poems
Long Lumens Poems. Below are the most popular long Lumens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lumens poems by poem length and keyword.
Broken Antenna
Relationships can be forced into as humans,
Poking, demanding or attacking in violence;
Subliminally gesturing to the light, lumens,
The ego pursues dominance in avoidance.
It is as if a broken antenna with a honed screen,
Of snowdrops, black and white jumping dots,
Flickering, denotes a vast, voidal gulf of lean
Towards, away from, the human space n’ watts.
This or that, god requests - chases our choices,
Decisions, possibilities, appropriations and lusts;
No consistent personality of tuned note juices,
The identity, in assaying a brush, liaison or scuffs.
Existing, a stiff, distant being said sits nobly aloof,
As if dumbing the fondly human, once perambulating;
The ancient man-god grasped immortality’s roof -
The backdrop of ascendence into the everlasting.
Roman emperors claimed a posthumous good life,
Immortality from a head to a god, Augustus to God;
Heroes famed for terrifying war victories of strife,
Were seen voluptuously in luscious heaven’s trod.
His language was mundane, overt, gossiped, feel,
Real, hitting no heights of conceptualisation’s raise,
So the Romans battered his sprawling crowd real,
Striving its sound to plunge into disarray to graze.
This or that, we could believe or not, relaxing fair,
Reject, fan the ancient man-god as God, or lunatic,
Myth, truth, liar, a mistake, fake, god, Lord or blare,
We can hint, glimpse, look, give all to prod osmatic.
A broken antenna sits happily o’er the human space,
Drawing the unspeaking pulse of life of sedate form;
This and that, he takes either form to mildly ace,
This or that thoughtful, magnanimous, tender norm.
Crumpled Thoughts
They wait – in hues of vibrating silence -
Like leftover orts of rumpled paper wimples
On creased clandestine journal pages –
Bent scraps of wrinkled inspiration
Smudged moments held in their one moment of time
Musings fading to illegible
Lost chords in treasured memories of radiance,
Sunspots of incomplete illumination,
Or crumpled creativity on paper wings
Snapshots of raw moments in tormented terror
Footprint creased signatures of incensed avenging angels
For abandoned ragged beggars in pencil
Of partial tidings
Wearing incomplete tatters of disturbed serenity
Waiting – lined up – for their turn to speak –
Vying for resuscitation
As actors reading their scripts –
Players auditioning for ideas
Of ice castles throwing off anonymity
Whistling like nonchalant sentimental journeys
In phases of the moon begging for words
Libretti confronting notes wandering in obscurity
Impatient plans in fits of tantrum’s flight
Residue of fantasies for
Gypsy fortuneteller’s phantasmal globes
Rescued by ruminations tender muse
With the gift of time to take them from her
Nurturing womb into full life and maturity –
Blinking in the brightness of real time
Bits and snatches adjust sight from consecrated darkness
To lumens brightness of looming footlights
Now taking bows in postmarks of epilogues -
Snatched from wondrous oblivion -
Profiles sketched in hope’s penumbra.
1-11-21
Contest: Crimpled Thoughts
Sponsor: John Lawless
How many lumens would it take to burn you
Sky-clad and free under the pale moonlight
Would your aching bleached skin cry in relief
Feeling anything in the dark of night again?
How long has it been since the full moon shone?
Have ten years slipped away so easily?
It's been longer than it hasn't by now
And has been for quite some time
Reaching for where it once shone bright
I took a piece of that stone within me
It's been so long since I've needed it
Yet I took its name as my very own
Shimmering crimson in gray half-light
Artifice that stopped being relevant even in its heyday
Yet tints my vision to this very day
Did I want you or want to be you?
There's a different stench in the air now
So high above the same town you shone over
It's bitter cold and smells of the sea
And myriad streetlights look like distant stars
My liver's stronger than I gave it credit for
But I certainly never tested it like you
It all felt like ancient history that night
And that night is even older now
What a brilliant scar upon my corneas
To stare at a moon as bright as the sun
Unflinching, unyielding
Just eager for the bowl of soup we shared
I've made my own light since then
Followed it to the darkest corners of home and Hell
Yet for a moment, I could smell your shine again
And it made me set up camp for the night
Where does the moon wander on nights like this?
So high above home, I still can't fathom your view
What must it be like to see continents like this?
And grant the slightest burn to my night-pale skin?
We dance the confines of our far apart
as though the distance was a normal thing
of cages now estopping lumens' touch
in empires of imperial decree
where lawful ownership is thus allowed
of geometric shapes though air we breath
and blood pulsating does each ampere haunt
in order to preserve the ruling see.
But each time I'm denied the warmth of touch
I feel the dying of my human soul
in algorithms of a bastard psalm
now written thus a darkness could then drain
the very essence keeping it in place.
We have but hope we of the people kind
against the plasma lacking in their ilk,
but hold the ancient yearnings in our watts.
Our tears are but the echoes of the verse
that bound us in millenia now past
but since the onion skin was put to flame
or so the elders tell us in the runes,
our future is now prayers to opal ash
that once glowed with the prophets' DNA
since passed to us as chosen ones of light,
extinguished for their once brave-spoken truth.
Let's take the tinglings few that we can feel,
imagining a world of verdant past.
We'll keep the currents as the spawn of faith
and pray the vibrant land will reappear.
Human minds muse the light
fire thoughts to the mind sky.
Fools flail for all their might
angry screams hide each cry.
To view the true sole source
take longs looks at the sun.
See earth's lasting first force
its rays can't be undone.
Dark dreams occur at night
while there's no sun up high.
Atoms fuse lumens bright
wise ones won't tell us why.
Myths are spun by the sages
unsure advice to try.
Faith filled tales through the ages
many truths to deny.
We all live with some fright
nature needs to be heard.
Hope that we do what's right
light shines the final word.
107 words rhyme 6/2022 Pen illustration: G. Gaul
Quasi-Humanistic genesis theory of the cosmos
focusing on the sun's light energy.
Inspired by Gustav Dore, Salvador Dali illustrations
and the teachings of the Buddha.
I was lost, but now I'm Found
just a Ghost Ship drifting Unbound,
through Storms and Flame, through nights and days
wayfaring through in Most Excellent Haste,
through darkened mist, Into Seas of Light Cyphers
I Am Solar Rexus with the Solar Light Piper,
the Soul Vessel, it Gleams Immaculate
Deep Diving the Inner Galactics,
Venturing Afar
for the Spark within burns like Djeds and Stars,
Wielding Torches, Illumined to Navigate
Unto the High Seas and Gales,
Unto the Celestials, it's Exuberant
Crista Insignis, I Harken to Boundless Lumens
Ever So-Lucid, To Believe is To Become
Resist Not, those Typhonic Winds Into The Sun
Burning sun departing
ember of its fire
graying
as autumn leaves
spent
and blown by wind
of confusion
obscuring clarity of truth
opacifying colors
muting sounds
masking fragrance
boredom of night
broken
by lumens
on windowsill of sky
waning moonlight
flickering of stars
as tremor of aging
before darkness of soul
without life
angels of night
raising gaze to Light
beyond the lights
inviting a return
to the Sun fire
burning stubble of fear
with peace and
hope
of a better tomorrow
coloring soul
with graces
dancing with joy
at the music
of daylight
Love
Second Place Winner-Brian Strand: Only Feb 2025 Posted-2/13
Hashish smoke trails her
along a dusky corridor
Aka the hall of fires
where mirage chimeras unleash
Encumbered with hands splayed
her crystal ball lumens
wires ghostly apparitions
mnemonic attachments
What mystery ensues
a phantasmagoria
of horror nudging
the demonic
Sitters drenched
in profuse sweat
fainting one by one
Alas unconscious
their fate met?
Coroners couldn’t ‘ve clarified
Described as an arctic chill
bolting across the sector
through each limp body
claiming mortality
As icy temps rise
Hypothermia responsible!
for the fatality, for their demise
Latter days professing onto
recordings of a gathering that took place
confessing that a séance
performed by a mysterious woman
in a trance—was the case.
The
Moon is waxing
First quarter crescent
The beckoning begins
Nodding, gurgling
Opening realms unseen
to the naked eye
Madame
Mystic, psychic,
a beguiling storyteller
and Medium
Down in a cellar, along with a Ouija
volumes of her writings discovered
delving into société espirita
The Goldilocks of the occults
Esoteric subjects,
a burgeoning interest
Astral travels,
unexplained laws of nature,
powers latent in man
Madame channeled
ascended masters
The Voice of the Silence
The Two Paths
The Seven Portals
"gifts" from the specters
This time Madame stands
to receive between intervals
and only he is seated
Warning him of dark spirits
a dimension outside
of our physical time-space reality
shadowing, making absence
of light a necessity
To invoke them
another nod
Continues unabated
Reveal the truth!
By sacred decree, by order
Behind the phenomenon
details of schemes came to light
Denounced as Black Magic
she was no longer to fright
Marked as a fraud
it all a façade
The moon is waning
Third quarter
Ashamed like a tree
by the wind bent
angry like the wind
that did the bending
neither I or my friend
could remember
the words in the poem
we had read.
On the cruelty of
the assignment
mulling in bed
wouldn't composing
be better than
the parroting?
But at nine decided
would best go sleep
and the adults obey.
Astonished
on awaking next day
every word
had surfaced to my head
like interest given free
by the bank
or seeds sown in
and next day
myriads of flowers
rainbow green
on a carpet blown in by wind.
Lumens angels of the night
power dreams
shine bright
when the heart is asleep
fears unearthing
past errors reveal
so history itself
wouldn't repeat
with warnings veiled
in terror
to unscramble
a car crashing icy roads
may predict
running away from
a monster may mean
to returns and embrace
to heal.
Unrestrained by heart's
fear or greed
sleep walks
where he wants unseen
finding pieces of puzzles
truth reveals
only when the reason is asleep.
Stars and moon shine only
in the dark
when the sun is asleep.