Long Marble Poems
Long Marble Poems. Below are the most popular long Marble by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Marble poems by poem length and keyword.
King James Bible. New Testament. Revelation 6:1
"Now I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals; and I heard one of the four living
creatures saying with a voice like thunder, 'Come and see.'"
I awoke to the sound of thunder crashing in my head. There is a faint mumbling
in the background of a violent rumbling. A whisper, now growing louder as the sound
embedded in my head is traveling deeper and deeper into my body. The sound
vibrating through my bones and radiating out of my body, such that I levitate and
ascend through the ceiling into the clouds above. I hear the voice and it's becoming
clearer to understand "Come... " the whisper was soft and gave me a chill that crept
down my spine. Passing through a cloud I was now in a marble stone hall that
stretched as long as Heaven it seems. Before me stands a golden alter "... See." the
voice bouncing in my head like thunder; a flash of light and twelve chairs appear
floating on each side of the golden alter. As fast as they appeared, they vanish in a
cloak of light. In the distance of heaven I hear the screeching screams of a Lamb being
slaughtered... then again the twenty four chairs appeared with four creatures standing
without shadows. Like a flash of lighting the images come and go. A Silence falls upon
Heaven while an eerie presence lingers along with the music of faint chords being
plucked. The music and the suspense subsidies; the voice, this time coming from the
creatures "Come..." I am content to obey. I walked towards to the creatures; they all
are winged hybrid animals covered in eyes. Some eyes looked frantic as if they where
screaming out in pain; Some where crying, others looked right at me never relaxing
their stare. " Come and See." and in his eyes I'd seen the fall of man, the end of all
days, there was a dimming light after flames enveloped the earth... I then was awake
lying on me bed, this is too vivid to have been a dream. Did I make it all up or was I in
Heaven as it seems?
He was airlifted to another place.
The heaths, the dales,
the high ridges,
all began to slip away
under throbbing wings.
(When you are unearthed,
roots still wriggle,
flecks of native mud
cling to your senses
and come with you.
A sediment makes its way
inside wrinkles and pockets.
Places you have slept on,
waded across,
had breezy sex over,
tether your turf).
He began to plant.
He left lichen trails
on the faux marble floors of shopping malls.
he placed moss under plastic rocks.
In time he discovered good clay in a new land.
If asked:
to what country he belonged?
He would show the dirt
under his fingernails.
Billows of a winter snow blowing through my curtain window
all I sweet remember is the way the willow tree smelled
that creamy, sugary, wintergreen scent of its lovely mellow
and the way the sun tilted each time you looked at me...
Snowflakes falling from a heavy laden sky of marble
and though my heart is longing, it is full of your song
that slow jazz music made us drunk as we danced
beneath the sultry moon, like a a fork and spoon
February shivers, my how the winter defuses
all that is left is the scent of a warmth remembered
healing hands, *** secret pillow talks
You grew old I grew old, then we both stopped living
My how I recall those winter snaps,
two young lovers lost in the silk of life's entwine
I remember when our love was fresh and new
like the weeping willow, dressed to the nines
Ah ! But those were different times and now is now,
I am presently lost, ... in this winter pow.
Petrified Soul
A walk in a cemetery. Living in the past, but tales
I love the past. It’s not a fairy tale
Feel. Past lives. Death feels from the ages of life
Beautiful, nice, gorgeous moments, times
Cold feeling, almost freezing, around old stones and graves
Here live souls on stones, monumental names, strict signs
Remember the past. Because. Remembering the past. The life
Old monuments, milestones of life and development. Loved on
The past. Good to live here. The present is dirty.
All around the world. Need to find crystal. Saving me from my past life
There are light stones. Remembered names. All in the cemetery
This cemetery is my inspiration. Loved the tours there. A dream home
Thank you, past! Remembered people! I love you! I am a student of yours
Thank you, Wembley! Thank you, Kingsbury! This cemetery is the land of the past
I love. Great Thanks! The fantasy lives in your history, send the present life
I stay here. I died here. I want to be here, an invisible stone. The hologram love
Not me. I know. There lives a lady.
She lived here two hundred years ago.
Amazing. Tall. Attractive. Air creature. Tale
Long white dress. Marble white skin. White long face. Black shiny short hair
A womanly beauty. Long legs. I respect. I love this ideal. She lives in a statue
I know where. A stone angel. Can you see? No, you can’t. I know this lady
She is a stone. Her soul is a statue. A ghost, a shadow in my life.
She needs love. Always following me in the cemetery. The secret desire
I remember her from a dream. She just watched me in the cemetery
I loved her. She is dead. In Hungary. Why follow me? Why? She needs to kill.
She wants to digest my life. I know. I will die. I never returned her love. She is suffering
Followed me from Budapest to London. Died many years ago. Hmm. Perfect empress
She died. Her love lives. Sharp blade. Wants kill. Waiting. In the graveyard
Fearing. In my heart. I don’t go there. I feel her desire for revenge. She was a pure heart
Perfect personality. Guardian angel. I love her. Waiting for me in the cemetery, her statue
Always
I can't delete her
From my life
She is a stone
Coded love
The killer
I loved you, Elisabeth
Love
In bloody heart
Mine
Petrified Soul
Tall and pure oasis
So much has changed
You remain constant and lovely
Gentle, morning green grass
Breaks like waves, laps at the shores
Of white, gray, and yellow stones
Towering above me, silent and sure
Chiseled marble, granite spires, oak
Wrought iron, your scent is old
A familiar volume I keep close to me
The reflections in your pools
Still glass, not a leaf disturbs
Irises cling to your walls
The distance beyond you sways
Spreading lazily into shade trees
Sun-tinted pastures and weathered fences
I walk with reverence, still, after so long
Your ground is my sanctuary
It houses my past
I am a child forever in front of you
Chisel bites, marble yields,
The symphony of grit and steel.
Sweat paints my brow,
A testament to the toil,
The labour that births beauty from the stone.
Yeah, it’s hard work, this crafting,
This sculpting, this… transformation.
But out of the chaos, a form takes flight,
A vision born of pain, a masterpiece in the light.
The world outside
A blur of noise,
A rat race, a frenzy,
But here, in this sacred space,
My heart finds its rhythm,
My soul finds its peace.
Hammer falls, dust flies,
A melody of measured blows.
In my tired eyes, a spark ignites
The joy of creation, the fire that never dies.
This is more than just stone,
This is a story,
A testament to hours spent,
Sweat and tears, and blood that’s been spent.
This is the joy of work!
The purpose that drives us,
The fire that burns within,
And makes our lives worth living!
So get your hands dirty,
Embrace the struggle,
The toil, and the pain,
Because in the midst of it all,
You’ll find the joy that makes life real.
In the maze of concrete and glass,
where tall buildings reach the sky,
rivers of money flow,
but only to the chosen few.
Below, a shadowy city exists,
filled with hard work and grime,
where dreams are just whispers,
lost in the cracks of old streets.
The rich, wrapped in fine clothes,
dance to the tune of hidden power,
leaders of a silent orchestra,
playing a song of silence and control.
Their laughter, touched with champagne,
drowns out the cries from below,
where rough, tired hands,
reach for fleeting hopes.
Halls of influence, slick with promises,
echo with the steps of the elite,
their words, hidden daggers,
cutting through the truth.
In this theater of lies,
curtains of wealth hide
the machinery of greed,
oiled by the sweat of unseen millions.
From high-rise penthouses,
they look down on a sea of struggle,
where the hungry feast on illusions,
and the thirsty drink from wells of despair.
Marble palaces stand tall,
monuments to ambition,
while shanties lean on faith,
held up by pillars of resilience.
Markets buzz with chaos,
colors blend in the bazaar of life,
where the weight of a single coin
can tip the balance of existence.
Yet, the streets remember,
each cobblestone a witness,
to the dance of disparity,
the waltz of inequality.
Children of the dusk,
eyes wide with innocence,
navigate the alleys of shadows,
their dreams painted in hues of maybe.
In the rooms where fortunes are made,
decisions are inked in secrecy,
pacts that seal destinies,
unseen hands shaping the world.
But in the heart of the storm,
a murmur grows,
a rhythm of defiance,
beating against the pulse of oppression.
Voices rise, a chorus of unity,
challenging the gilded throne,
for in the contrast of gold and dust,
lies the spark of revolution.
The streets, arteries of rebellion,
pulse with the lifeblood of change,
as the fabric of corruption
begins to fray at the edges.
In the end,
from the ashes of greed,
a new dawn will rise,
where the scales of justice
find their balance,
and the city of gold
is built on a foundation
of humanity's unyielding spirit.
I seek a heart that beats in rhythm with my own,
A hand to hold through seasons yet unknown, trust lives softly in her gentle grace.
Not perfection carved from marble stone,
But someone real, with flaws she’s always owned,
Who speaks her mind with kindness as her guide,
And chooses still to walk here by my side.
In morning light or when the day grows dim,
Through joy that soars and times when hope grows thin,
I long for love that’s steady, strong, and true—
A faithful heart that says, “I’m here with you.”
For in the end, what matters most to me
Is finding someone who will always be
Both lover and the truest friend I know,
Together, helping each other grow.????????????????
I can't take you with me,
When I leave this world to go home.
When I'm laid to rest my life goes to pass,
Underneath those blades of grass.
A marble stone,
Marking a place, the life of me.
Don't stop too long,
Grieving for me,
Life needs to be moving along.
I'm here, to help, that life moves on,
Don't get weak,
Without being, staying so strong.
Move along with, your dreams in you,
Find a place in this world, just being you.
But, on your wedding day,
Look within,
You'll find me there for you.
I'll have a smile or two,
Watching over you,
A hope, a tear of joy just for you.
And, when your children are born,
Take a moment for me,
All I ask is, please, don't forget about me.
I'll always be there, with a little pride in my soul,
Some dignity,
I'll be proud of you more.
So, think of me for a while,
Along your life's pathway,
I'll think of you when I go home.
A EBB TRIBUTE
weeping voices
agony
in anguish
unmoved
the
sensual soul is
shaken&forsaken
yet
marvels&listens
to the sound
of the strong &
then
answers
the shroud of despair
retreats
in solemn fantasy
seeks&
entreats
to
understand yesterdays
made
manifest
in tainted thoughts
spread
ready
for the fight
among
those on high
below
the unbeloved
gaze
on the altar
now
so
forlorn
to endure the shame
speak
of the brave
reach
to do right
behind
each still thought
the ardent
undone
by
passion's applause
at
sweetness rising within
flings
fear clear
of the morning
reverie
inviting approval
solemn sorrow
blushed
away
smiling
by
silent eyes
of
the worthy
plead&
tenderly
stroke away
the tears
remorse denied
wisdom undone
flees
the glory
of peace:
below
wrath pulsates
festers
as a symbol
a
distinct image
in a column of flame
a field
in motion
beyond
the curtain
a golden room
a crown
for the assured
an honour
for faith
a claim
to identity
a favour
to the demure
a strand
of he distinct
beauty pervades
the face
of the lovely
in a pale
shade of marble
speaks
no more
of despair
passes
as a shadow
sees..
but
never
to understand