Long Materialized Poems
Long Materialized Poems. Below are the most popular long Materialized by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Materialized poems by poem length and keyword.
I OPENED A DOOR IN THE UNIVERSE
AND FOUND MYSELF IN A WORLD
SURROUNDED BY WHAT APPEARS TO BE
ENERGY OR SHALL WE SAY ENERGIES.
WAVE AFTER WAVE OF ENERGIES.
I HAD TO QUESTION MYSELF...
ARE THE WAVES INBOUND OR
OUTBOUND , ASCENDING OR
DESCENDING.?
WHEN I NOTICED THAT MY THOUGHTS
SEEMED TO PROJECT A FREQUENCY
THAT MINGLED WITH THE WAVES
OF ENERGY.
IT WAS THEN I REALIZED
I , WAS A FREQUENCY WAVE OF ENERGY.
IN A UNIVERSE FILLED WITH A
SYMPHONY OF MESMERIZING VIBRATING COLORS
OF ENERGIES RADIATING THE
DISPERSEMENT OF HARMONIZING FREQUENCIES.
AT THAT VERY MOMENT A THOUGHT
MATERIALIZED.
THE THOUGHT OF A PEBBLE FALLING
FREELY AND EFFORTLESSLY
INTO A MOTIONLESS , GLOSSY ,
MIRROR LIKE , BODY OF WATER.
LIKE A METEOR THROUGH
TIME AND SPACE.
THE INITIAL CONTACT CREATED A SPLASH
THAT SENT RIPPLES ACROSS
THE SURFACE, UPWARD , DOWNWARD
OUTWARD AND THROUGHOUT.
AS THE BODY OF WATER CAME TO LIFE,
I FOCUSED ON THE RIPPLES OF WATER
FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE A LIFE TIME
OF ETERNITY.
I COULD SEE , HEAR AND FEEL
THE VIBRATION IN , AROUND AND
THROUGHOUT THE SURROUNDING ATMOSPHERE.
IT WAS AN OVERWHELMING AND
PROFOUND EXPLOSION OF SOUND.
A SYMPHONY OF ENERGIES.
IT WAS AS IF I ABSORBED THE ENERGY
TRANSLATED AND PROJECTED THE THOUGHT
" LIFE IS GREAT ".
I COULD SEE THE RIPPLES COLLIDE
WITH THE ENERGY OF THOUGHT ,
CAUSING THE SURFACE ,
OF THE BODY OF WATER ,
TO BEGIN DANCING , SPARKLING AND
CELEBRATING.
AS IF THE BODY OF WATER WERE IN
AGREEMENT.
IT BECAME ABUNDANTLY CLEAR.
I , WE , MANKIND , CAN AND DO ,
COMMUNICATE , WITH THE UNIVERSE.
OBVIOUSLY , THE UNIVERSE RESPONDS
TO OUR QUESTIONS AND THOUGHTS.
HOW WE INTERPRET THOSE
FREQUENCIES AS THOUGHTS
ARE TOTALLY UP TO US.
UNDERSTANDING THE VOCABULARY
OF LISTENING , SPEAKING , READING
AND WRITING , THE MESSAGE CAN ,
AND FOR MANY , IS A CHALLENGE.
HOWEVER , ONCE WE BEGIN TO
UNDERSTAND , WE HAVE A BETTER
CHANCE OF UNDERSTANDING
WHO AND WHAT WE ARE AS FAR AS
A LIFE FORM IN THE UNIVERSE.
WE TOO ARE A BODY OF WATER ,
ABSORBING FREQUENCIES OF
OUR UNIVERSE AND OUR
SURROUNDINGS.
UNDERSTANDING THE VOCABULARY ,
WE MAY THEN INTERPRET , AND
TRANSLATE THE UNIVERSAL
MESSAGE.
LIFE IS GREAT ...FANTASTIC...
INCREDIBLE... AND AT TIMES...
SIMPLY AND TRULY UNBELIEVABLE.
Michael E. Harris
03092023
The rain falls faster, faster now,
Plummeting arid plains below,
Eroding bits of blackened soil,
Washing away decayed petals.
One by one, they slip out of existence,
Walking out rusted doors.
I stand under the cold, crisp water,
Letting it soak through layers of frayed fabric,
Seeping into skin that's leathered with age.
Scents of petrichor shift through brisk bursts of wind,
Trapped within the mess of my mind for far too long now.
The resounding smells flood my senses
With bygone memories,
Snapping between past misunderstandings
That turned into reverberations of us,
And fears of a future
That slipped through calloused fingers.
Looking down at what materialized in my wailing hands,
I dig the frigid steel deep into my chest,
Cutting beneath layers of flesh and sinew,
Past a cracking ribcage,
To expose a beating heart, screaming in agony.
I slice it from its hollow home,
Position it on a tarnished platter,
Place it as an offering at your sacred feet,
Interminably holding me in your gnarled heart forthwith.
I looked, looked, and looked – but all in vinegar vain.
I searched, searched, and searched – but found no love.
So sad, so sapped and no longer feeling cerebrally certain,
You miraculously materialized – my own heaven-sent dove.
My happy heart races at the sound of your voice.
My merry mind leaps at the sight of my cherished crush.
My satisfied soul swirls at my providence-inspired choice.
My buoyant body ignites at the feel of your tender touch.
Oh my good gosh! The amorous ache…it hurts – so sweetly;
And the fragrant fire flaming within…it burns – so soothing.
My delightful desire sends round sensuous spikes – so warmly.
Leaving me wet and spent in ecstasy’s prison – so enthralling.
To whom or what shall I ever dare liken you, my Maple tree?
To others, falling as one, like us – or to others that fall apart below par?
To the sun, the moon, the stars – or to all galaxy-orbiting three?
No, my diamond diadem; by all, you stand head above the highest bar.
The blue haired witch came into the valley with a blue moon.
The wind changed directions when it sensed her arrival.
Shadows grew bashful as her natural beauty materialized.
Reverent wonder followed her footsteps into the forest.
She is magnificent, the owls hooted to each other.
It was no accident that she materialized in October.
She exuded mystery in a frighteningly unfamiliar way.
What will she do to us? The oaks and elms whispered.
Their leaves twinkled into the wind, wondering also.
The blue haired witch held up a finger. A good night to arrive.
Bats flung themselves into a crevice of the old volcano.
She is here, they tweeted to each other – our new mistress.
I am, for the most part, most scared to speak.
Not because I don't necessarily have anything to say,
My mouth, alongside the virility of my brain, just seem to like putting me in reticence
But even in the fortunate instance that my mind doesn't wander into insanity at the thought,
I would still seal my mouth with golden chains
I would let the raining consequences rust it more shut
Spoken so, one would think such strong speech flew just out of a god
But for very antonymous reasons, I decide to favor most and keep the unfathomable out of doom's way
Those reasons come back to one simple yet deadly proclamation
TRUTH
We'd think a civilization that's fought so hard to be globally accepted, respected
One that holds itself on such a high pedestal, you'd be condemned to an endless fall if one jumped
One that claims autonomy over every single living and non-living creatures alike
Would be open to TRUTH
To date, the ones who've foolishly let their intelligence get the best of them
The ones who, amidst idiotic and ignorant surroundings they had to endure,
Decided to venture into the world of TRUTH
Were shoot off the pedestal so quick one would've mistaken it for a god
And then they fell and fell and fell and fell so deeply some lived through their last breath, falling
And at last, all the unlucky ones got through to TRUTH.
It was another world, maybe infinitely larger, ethereally brutal, and hauntingly peaceful
Instead of oceans, this world materialized into one main thing: REALIZATION
Realizations like the fact that my brain is just protective
Realizations that my identity has reeked through mud so many times
Realization that it wasn't just mistaking it for god but that this god is the mistake
Because the truth is that this god never sacrifices
He wrecks havoc till everything offers oblation
Truths like these that would put some on chokehold
But I won't waste good air, getting to a point where the only thing I incite is murderous rage.
Realization that for most, it looks just like that—a void to be fallen into, a place to quickly pull away from a single
glance down
Awareness about behavior,
present since mine days of yore
an unswerving allie analogous
to peacekeeper ending civil war
belated insight suddenly realized
(better late than never) doth underscore
incumbent proactive communication stance
belatedly bestowed omnipotent awareness
crucial fostering ingredient to shore
maternal bond above
bejesus ear splitting roar
I admit regret (to self), there
dost belie suppressed yen to pour
out sorrows 'twixt this sole him son,
and long deceased mother, he
deprived her his love and outwore
the Scottish tartan Harris tweed
welcome (haz) mat, which pained
materialized soon after her death, nor
can compensation be made,
now ex post facto,
when futility of spilt tears got more
gauged and swept away, when
nary a trace I privately cried
amidst lachrymose lakeshore.
20/20 hindsight brought me unflagging mast
into stark painful focus,
essentially how mine
formative behavior wrought avast
dystopian emotional fractured mindscape,
which non positive coping methods
lit fuse kindling devastating catastrophic blast
from yesteryear to present silent woebegone
desolate gloomy terrain past
grandeur eclipsed by present gloom
finds yours truly stranded like cast
away bleached flotsam upon coast
amidst tempestuous rocky shoals
clinging for dear life with grasp fast,
Where tenuous, precarious,
and ludicrous ship
of state can no longer maintain
even a marginal grip
but with slight equip
age willing, wedding,
and wanting brings relief from whip
lashed incurred (within body) showing rip
pulled scarred taut welts testimony, sans
long electrified with aggravation,
excruciation, and intoleration can easily flip
a figurative switch in summary
ushering final lip
service to charade,
facade, and masquerade
at lightspeed didst clip
this...Potemkin Village,
where everything "FAKE,"
asper envisioning flickr
ring mirage recounting ancient Egypt!
Criminal
waste,
critical mass
materialized warfare
city dumps pile-up and fall
burnt offerings amid
clumps of Caesar salad.
Roman Empires of crud
that roam no more.
Walmart still spills over,
parachutes hung from pot-belly roofs;
air-drops from a plastic heaven.
A few old men
are found asleep at the wheel
of long buried cars.
Homeless are the pigeons
that carry a crusty canker
from pit to heap,
pitiful the pawing fingers
that pounce now upon
the once new branded,
yet more paltry
the poached mounds
of porch-pirates,
their petty ill-gottens
all unpacked alike as empty nests.
When the sooty dark
fumes and blankets,
then rust will clang
in the yawping mouths
of tin-cans,
aluminum bells that clatter.
Then the rodents,
the red-eyed night-shifters
will comb through the tangled beards
of threadbare dreams.
Then withal,
just as the ditched dross have fallen,
dregs shall rise again.
Aside from the glorious colours of autumn
It is my least favourite season of all four
It foretells of another Canadian winter just around the corner
I have seen 79 of them
That's 79 too many!
All my life, I've longed to live where
A sweater was the most I ever needed to wear to feel comfortable
Instead of fur lined jockey shorts and mukluks
Fashioned from seal skin
My life long dream has not materialized yet
Still have 20 or more years to go
What do you think my chances are
To live in a warm climate before I reach the magic number 100?
On a scale of “slim” to “a sure bet”
Would you figure it would be somewhere in between
Or as I predict... “a sure bet”
Now that's what most would call extreme optimism
Really, it's only 21 years from now
I call it a done deal!
© Jack Ellison 2014
We all know that Christmas is commercialized
It is about business, profits and making money
So is Valentine's Day right now. Love is for sale
Hearts are on sale. Love is indeed materialized
Greed is at its best. Some lovers are very pale
Many seniors are obviously sad. That's not funny
Because it hurts to see so many loners
Who are not happy. They are in pain
Nobody buys them: flowers or chocolate
Valentine's Day is no longer for lovers
Yet, it is a very special to go on a date
With friends and to dream of having fun
Things have changed and are no longer the same
This is the truth and that's a bloody shame
Still, I'm wishing you: Happy Valentines's Day
Be safe! Blow kisses and don't get carried away.
Copyright © February 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
She-Ma appeared in the midst of an argument we were having.
A bunch of unruly rednecks and me; and I am afraid I was losing.
With her ribbon like hair, and her firm determined mouth, she materialized.
A shock to them, but not to me; I recognized my guardian angel.
Pirate Angel I secretly called her; for she looked like one
With her fluffy white wings and purple pirate captain’s coat
Belted with a golden snap belt that said she meant business.
I heard a scream; she must have started using her golden sword.
Fine by me; I was already running. It was evening. I needed to get away.
I was not worried about my guardian angel with her sunshine orb.
She glowed, with an aura of rainbow colors; icicles dripping from her hem.
A superhuman irony - warm and toasty toward me, freezing them now.
I did not have to turn. I knew they were each in a rainbow bubble.
Thinking about what they had done; and were about to do.
If there is one thing She-Ma does; it is this. Making the perpetrators think.
I am so grateful for her long sleek magic fingers,
and her ability to transmogrify.
They were soon walking up the garbage can, eager to devour the garbage.
Four rapist thugs who were no longer humans, but more aptly roaches.
When she does this to them I know they were truly bad. It is rare.
I thank God that Pirate Angel is my own personal body guard.