Long Magnificently Poems
Long Magnificently Poems. Below are the most popular long Magnificently by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Magnificently poems by poem length and keyword.
Mein kampf synonymous as a blooper
Writer of these words,
a former Lower Providence inhabitant,
who dwelled within darkest depths
of Dante Alighieri's inferno
for most of his outlandish, impish,
and devilish growing up years
witnessed microscopic scrimmage,
where spermatozoan with most forcefulness
muscled itself handedly,
magnificently, and splendidly
envision unicellular olympic competition,
yours truly swimmingly
begot during the heat
of parents being passionately fruitful
courtesy diploid erogenous frisson
between my then searingly
robust virile father and fecund mother
~ late March/early April 1958
ushered seminal moment
post ova fertilization realization
courtesy male gamete
penetrating zona pellucida
a glycoprotein layer surrounding the oocyte
triggering cell bait multiplication
subsequently yielding male
gendered offspring and sole son
hashtagged as uber twittering, snapchatting,
shutterflying super duper
cute little boy with short strawberry blond hair,
whose solitudinarian nature
became quite evident when he displayed
acute social withdrawal
upon off fish shill commencement
getting schooled as a grouper
by mister Hooper,
who made his debut
appearance on Sesame Street
November 10, 1969
as storied and staple long time resident
on above named television show
until March 18, 1983,
beloved by adults and children alike
within make believe community
(a conglomerate of real and imaginary locales)
peopled with proprietary named characters
for any of a number of humorously grotesque
glove or rod puppets and marionettes,
chiefly representing animals,
first popularized, idolized,
dramatized, capitalized, and actualized
by the children's television programme
Sesame Street (1969-) and more recently
in The Muppet Show (1976-80).
Also: a toy made to resemble one of these
ingenious brainchild of Jim Maury Henson
an American puppeteer, animator, actor,
and filmmaker who achieved worldwide
notability as the creator of the Muppets
which series originated as two pilot episodes
produced by Henson for ABC in 1974 and 1975.
Henson's shocking, sudden death occurred on May 16, 1990 of organ failure resulting from streptococcal toxic shock syndrome. An emotional memorial service was held five days later at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City.
January 13 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Genesis 37-39
Key Verse – Genesis 39:3 And his master saw that the LORD was with him, and that the LORD made all that he did to prosper in his hand.
FAITH IN GOD WHO MAKES US TO PROSPER
God makes us to prosper, manifoldly blessing us against crises’ might
Moving our love along faith to bear fruits with divine delight
Moreover, bringing color to our lives His cheers so bright
Most of all, answering our prayers while we do what’s right.
God makes us to prosper, mightily reigning over us in His dominion
Moving our desire along faith to enjoy His fellowship midst sweet communion
Moreover, teaching us His Word, defying humanistic opinion
Most of all, working in our return to Him from wandering for glad reunion.
God makes us to prosper, marvelously delivering us from unholiness
Moving our eyes along faith to see His perspective against sins’ blurriness
Moreover, empowering us to profit in His contentment’s joyfulness
Most of all, guarding our hearts from foolishness and deceitfulness.
God makes us to prosper, miraculously transforming us toward His perfection
Moving our character-change along faith to glow by His compassion
Moreover, raising us up to see higher ground’s vision
Most of all, slaying our pride of displeasing action for humility’s function.
God makes us to prosper, morally wrapping us with His truth-covering
Moving our spirituality along faith to obey Him through His nurturing
Moreover, detracting us from materialism and idolatry-gearing
Most of all, instilling in our choice discernment upon wisdom-rearing.
God makes us to prosper, magnificently granting us Your grace
Moving our thanksgiving along faith to express always our worshipful praise
Moreover, providing us Your supplies of well-favoured ways
Most of all, pardoning our iniquities we confess without doubt’s trace.
God makes us to prosper, manageably in our pursuit for soulwinning
Moving our commitment along faith to share the Gospel midst trust-gaining
Moreover, upholding us in our great-commission and ministry training
Most of all, protecting our steps while our health You are sustaining. Amen!
January 13, 2025
10th place, "2025 POSTED POEM" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/15/2025
Wondering upon our almost forgotten smiles
and twinkling eyes hidden,
we have spun this world
in smoke and mirrors,
reflecting light in curving waves.
We have wandering
into the misty fog
as it marched
out of clear air
on a perfect night
to become rooted
in the moss upon which we dream,
seizing that ethereal ground like honey
under winter's veil.
Perhaps it explains why
that which spins in you
is foreign to me,
sometimes,
and yet somehow
a thread of it loops around my heart
and tugs,
as familiar as kin,
or friends too long apart.
And I realize how deeply
you reflect the same light
that I've known uncounted
for a thousand years
times a thousand more.
I feel the stretch of this flaxen fulfillment
and hear its golden tone humming
as it lengthens.
Sometimes too loose to vibrate
the membranes
of our soup-can telephones.
So that even though we both speak
in muted carefully hesitant tones,
our words slip away into space
and only the stars know the songs we sing.
Bellowed out like whales in an empty sea,
only by chance refracted into a hearing ear,
that begins to understand
and then lapses into slumber again.
Even as magnificently we harmonize
beyond the dark face of the hidden moon at midnight,
we hear not each others callings,
and even less often see them dancing.
Except perhaps
in the limelight of our hearts sweet glow
where I know we live.
So it is odd to feel
this familiar twist
of an old theme
of distant overtures not really knowing
what note should follow
the one that follows
the one that is yet unwritten.
It just floats there unresolved,
sometimes aching for nothing at all,
other than the illusion of being.
Yet sometimes aching for the grace
to say softly, the love that floats here
in my heart for you,
without trying to enchant an echo.
Just to freely blow that kiss
into free space knowing
that is enough to be received
by the one that is.
And given by that one too,
to itself.
And so I reflect upon that flow
I have named you,
and wish it good journey,
knowing we are both leaf and river.
Masters of the helm
we sometimes do not steer
and only at the mercy
of the sea we will not tame.
In a beautiful land far across the ocean,
People used to celebrate Christmas all year round,
Trees along the streets adorned with flickering lights;
Down the cities were malls seethed with shoppers…
All in frantic, but no harm in their enjoyment of time.
Grandiose buildings and churches,
Stood magnificently as the music of the season played;
Lanterns were hanging on walls as church bells ring,
Announcing the season of birth of Christ the King.
A dazzling panorama of the whole place,
With the nearby sea on its serenity and calmness;
The aromatic freshness and coldness of yuletide’s zephyr,
Giving resplendent smiles- rhythm of iridescent glow in ones’ eyes.
As people enjoyed from morning to Christmas eve
Children’s laughter exuded with the gifts they received
They sang joyfully with thanksgiving on caroling
A herald on the season of love in a spirit of giving.
Time came in the beautiful land far across the ocean,
When people didn’t have any single clue of the dangers to come,
A week before the season with no ominous sign,
Trees on streets were washed out in an instant;
A gigantic catastrophe passed by engulfing everyone
Mangled and jostled into darkness where they’re hard to be found,
At snap of fingers… is there another joyful Christmas time?
Grandiose building and churches,
Turned out into a mass grave with flickering candles;
Flowers were scattered where each body laid,
Mourning of their fate…a rescue they begged
All praying for mercy of Christ our only Savior and King.
At vantage point was a horrible scene of a ghost town,
Where green trees and buildings seemed thrown in garbage cans
Marred souls were wafted in stale air…
Starvation and unseen love ones, they grieved.
Just in time came in a devastated land across the ocean,
A miracle happened in His Love Divine
Sympathy and passion reigned in the heart and mind of all men;
People around the world joined hand-in-hand and rebuilt ‘tis land,
The most perfect Christmas gift which arrived on time.
Dec. 15, 2013 9.25pm
*My first ballad poem. Hope I did it right
NOT FOR PERFECT CHRISTMAS GIFT CONTEST
First Place
Contest: Any poem goes #1
Judged: 12/27/13
Sponsor: My greatest poet PD
It stood magnificently in front of our Churchyard,
Like the sacred fig tree before any temple-yard;
My going to church, as a boy, had no other reason,
Than picking all bird-dropped fruits, as a mission;
Collecting as many as possible hastily,
Pushing them into my knickers-pocket quietly;
Thinking of them all through the Holy Mass,
Waiting for the priest to say the final grace;
Hurrying to a corner where no humans see,
Place, as lonely as the very loneliness could be;
Savouring the sour-sweet taste spread over it,
Then breaking it with stones to get the nuts in it;
Quantity of it equaled as little as a butter drip,
Or as much as ten mustard seeds put as a strip;
Relishing it as though nectar of ancient sages,
Coming down to mine tongue from all the ages;
In youth tastes changed and matters mattered,
And this almond became very old fashioned;
Burgers, Pizzas, hotdogs and all tasted well,
Though, consuming them, I often was unwell;
I saw boys and girls picking almonds as I did,
And hurrying to corners and I understood;
The ‘grown-up’ in me prohibited me from doing so,
It’s hence I hid my child within, as a rainbow;
Abroad, I almost forgot the Indian almond tree,
As within me, I was bored and never really free;
I had my worries of marriage and children,
Who’d care for a tree with no monetary gain?
It’s when I went to my home town casually,
It’s under that tree I found my future lily;
We married and got children who grew,
Both with tastes so modern and new;
Yet, it’s when once we visited the churchyard,
My younger lingered over that fruit so thrilled;
We offered him sweet almonds from stores,
And supermarkets that made him to uproar;
He collected for long as much as he could,
And each little one he collected for him he hid;
He too, later, had his dreams and worries,
Sophistications seismically so seduce, seize;
Church now demolished and grounds cleared,
For newer one to construct all well renewed;
I found this almond tree got fully uprooted,
And thrown into a corner like an old harp muted;
I cried and cried till I could cover the tears,
As though I’d hidden my feelings for many years…
30 July 2021
Finding Your Muse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Tentative rose thorns graze my skin as I push through the plant-walled garden
They neither break skin nor draw those secret white lines across it
Lillies of the valley wonder where their valley has gone when they realise they are on
flat land
Their delicate white petals stare at the clouds which gather like ants to an amberule of honey
I can feel the rain on the air, it clothes me in a heavy gown of foreboding and expectation
The birds who once called across the garden to their avian lovers silently flutter home
In the tall birches and oaks and evergreens, in the bright aboreal verendace, their world
I walk through a stream which has trickled and will trickle for ages,
patiently it cuts away the tarnished granite bed, deeper and deeper,
Tiny frogs leap away in instinctive terror, my feet suddenly transformed into evil monsters,
and as I step out of the stream bed, I wonder where all the butterflies have gone when I
see a moth
With spanning black wings as dark as night, edged with gold as bright as the sun,
its antennae are feathery and magnificently plume the insect's noble head, a crown above
all crowns,
Its six legs are carried tightly under its richly-furred black body, little dagger-glows
sheathed,
I reach out a hand as tentative as the rose thorns, and the moth plays with me,
taunting me with its nocturnal majesty, with its iridescent wings, with its reflective eyes,
To my eternal satisfaction the lordly moth alights upon my fingers,
and I wince as its claws grip my tightly, it folds in its wings, its royal robes of office,
The golden filligree glitters and the soft pixie dust all moths carry falls unnoticed onto
my hand,
Body quivering, I see the unmistakable mark across its elegant wing-shape;
death's head, a human skull, remnant of a past life,
laughing at me in my folly,
the lordly insect takes flight, leaving my with the sliently roses, the apathetic lillies,
the meandering stream, to contemplate the incomprehensible
and I breathe in the dust of the moth,
forgetting butterflies had ever existed, for the death's head
rules the secret garden day and night
and now I understand these things,
which only the whispered languages of the garden could say.
I had just reached the summit of the mountain;
The final reward for my four hour hike up the steep terrain.
There was still snow in abundance at the peak
Even though the summer sun bathed me in light from the cloudless sky.
The sweat, in which I was fully drenched,
Was turning cold against my aching body once I sat down for a rest and a view of the wondrous landscape below.
Each deep breath I inhaled further cleansed my soul; further restored my spent energy.
I sat and contemplated.
Even though I was alone, atop this glorious mountain;
Even though I passed no other hikers along the trail on which I labored for four hours;
Even though I was so high up, I could not make out any signs of human life in the miles and miles of God’s green earth that stretched out before me down below;
I somehow felt less lonely here than I do when I walk amongst the hordes of people in a mall;
Or, sit in a crowded theater;
Or, stand on the train because there are no seats left upon which to sit;
Or, walk the hallways of an office building full of employees just waiting for the time to go home.
At the same instance, while in awe of the beauty in the scenery I took in,
I felt so miserably insignificant and yet, so magnificently important.
My legs ached. My heart pounded. My feet throbbed. My back tightened. And, I had never felt better in all my life.
I sipped water from the bottle that accompanied me up the mountain.
I ate the power bar with the knowledge that going back down is no easy proposition.
I watched the sun slowly get closer to the distant horizon.
And, I smiled. And, I cried.
Then, it came time to head back down.
I felt like I was leaving my best friend on my way back to prison to finish out my sentence:
Found guilty of having accumulated debts that must be paid;
Found guilty of having responsibilities demanding my attention;
Found guilty of embarking on a career path that rewards me monetarily while sucking away the spirit of my soul.
But, I will be back. Not to this same mountain, but certainly to this same state of mind on another peak.
This is my rehabilitation. This is my church. This is my salvation.
To vt
How sweet is this divine duo..!
Let me complete the verse due
Ethnicity emitted elegantly
As they pose magnificently
Majestic bevy with hair cascadic
To extoll I find words sporadic
A light flashing adds grace
They resemble Goddesses
Royal and regal aura
My screen is lit with Juno and Minerva..!
To my Goddess
May thy verses fetch you honour
My joy reaches extreme tower
Would ever cherish thy appearance
On my screen in vibrance
Rose pink stance being special
It made my day real
I wish all thy work and toil
Soon fetch awards and achievements coil
Newton’s 3rd Law tells it all
Surely you will have fruits tall
Keep calm and march past
To reach all thy goals vast..!
(This is the counsel you gave me
I am following patiently..!!)
To my Goddess
Awesome work of Jai Sri Ram
He rocks in a way so calm
The graphics provided by him
Are just like ‘spatial’ hymn
Proud of you to have such a sonny
Beauteous blithe and bonny
What a way to present the art
He is an artist excellence par
May he scale all heights anew
With grace on artistic avenue
I bless him from bottom of heart
May Lord spread his divine art
‘Jolly Artistic Intelligent
Supreme Royal Intellectual Robust and Maverick..!!’
To mommee 2
You’re at your best
When you’re in thy mom’s nest
Glow on face just increases
Charm on thy cheeks oozes
Tons of radiance dance through eyes
Even evening sun just vies
Glad to have been introduced
In thy family exalted
My joy knows no bounds
When Maha and Meena make rounds
Twin delights you enjoy
In thy yard with many a toy
Serenely surrounded by trees
Your house in TaaraMatipet breeze..!!
To mommee 2
Wow..! How gorgeous is thy green glow..!
As if you are a belle from Glasgow
Ethnicity is thy new flavour
During festivity with fervour
Even gold feels blush
When you walkingly rush
Under the flora the Goddess stands
My pen runs with words in mounds
Jaw dropping is thy grace quotient
Amazingly stunning is your gaze valiant
Rarest diamonds yearn to grace
On thee o my Lord Goddess
Perfect blend of brains and beauty
Always rock in emerald gritty..!!
Spring equinox arrived March 20th, 2021 at 5:37 AM
No burlesque across the globe
upstages mother nature's emergent style
soundlessly donning and trumpeting
resplendent metaphorical pregnant Gaia,
whose all encompassing bulging robe
magnificently, albeit modestly evinces
matronly dame parading and sauntering,
she intimates readiness to give birth
regarding multitudinous flora and fauna,
whereby swath groundswell of color
and panoply of sound bursts forth.
A symphony with terrestrial
ecological community, which life forms abound
via natural laboratory qua nature,
especially at seasonal dawn of spring tide,
where multifarious existence can be found
carving out a figurative zoological niche
in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds galore
idyllic melodic musical sound
artist palette of rainbow blended sights
assuage auditory and
visual sense pleasures respectively.
No gofundme donation required-
unless ye clamor to proffer expense
(toward fame and fortune
concerning one garden variety
long haired pencil necked geek
to regale sensational experience,
but before further lines get read
please be mindful
to take lock, stock, and barrel
of mine existential sponsor,
thus a brief plugged statement to
??? ???????? ???????? ????? ??0?????0? ?0? ????.
Now back to regularly scheduled program
trying to entrance ye dear reader
incorporating titanic and tectonic processes,
(albeit all natural wonders)
constituting eight ways
to build strong bodies
bred courtesy punctuated equilibrium
nudging advantages to outvie
one living thing
versus another organism.
Winter of our (collective) discontent
alleviated courtesy pagan earth goddesses
prestidigitation delivering cathartic holistic
and poetic botanical balms,
which salve (age long in the tooth)
psychological wounds.
Show stopping stunning performance
stills lovers embrace
long anticipating nonpareil experience,
nevertheless straining credulity
of visual and aural senses,
where collective awed pinterests
silences onlookers evoking
masterpiece rendered still life
among webbed plant and animal species.
O glorious Autumn of melancholic
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
Bursting into the swelling copses
And invading between the
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing
Revelry,
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!
Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly
Caught.
Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the
Unwritten verse
That so evade this singular man.
So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel
A whirling kaleidoscope
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette
Of Artemis
Over which the vibrant pastes
Are thinly spread.
A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!