Long Materializing Poems
Long Materializing Poems. Below are the most popular long Materializing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Materializing poems by poem length and keyword.
We take birth in sweetest songs of nature
and our living becomes fresh in
natural dimensions
Every feather of nature for us, for
our life, for our easiness in our
trading, business
Every breath of nature for our healthy
life and we materialize it to live
more comfortably!
But fictitious, which we make, everything
gives us ephemeral happiness and
we forget our nature
We keep running after materializing
pleasure and we become worried,
tired and sick
Now the world and we, who were from
nature has become supernatural and
unnatural in life and death
Nothing more in our life the inborn
actions and reactions, we are running
after inhumane fractions
-October 10, 2018 Chattogram
Sinking in sweltering fire
Angst rooting me to the spot
This denial-- feeding the liar
I swim in no emotion...much like a robot
Drunk by the flooded regret
Many the times you refuse my offer
All the time you refuse it, it forms a flood; masked with a tidal suicide
Your hoarse whispers refusing my cries
Wanting the best of my anger
Afflicting bafflement and torture
To a headstrong form
You wicked witch,
You could never burn, can you?
Sweep me to your wicked plans
Gaining witchcraft to burn out our limits
Your encompassed spells makes us endure to your power
Your melting desire-- a sour,
Despicable sense of pride in your presence
Devours the paralyzing thoughts materializing into evil paradise
You wicked witch,
Could you ever burn, you cruel elder?
Your on the other side,
Tripping on eruptive highways
Led astray by the senseless tide
Materializing into erupting paradise
Catch me in your web;
get out of your corner, killer spider
Drooling acidic lies on the pavement
Led astray by fetching fatality in your entangled snare
You already agreed to
refuse my offer
Uncooperative in your
bogus decisions
I gave up persuading you to go the opposite direction
But your bogus arguments
Take advantage of my offer
And shriveled it in its denser reasonings
I'm a flaw to your
sun-drenched heart
I want to be apart of your belongings
Tell me I'm not
rotting in denial
You already agreed to
refuse my offer
Uncooperative in your
stranger decisions
Your amusing, foolish girl
You have a giving heart
But yet you'll refuse my blissful offer
Mock my presence, foolish women
Remain a rueful scoffer
Flames engulfing all within their path
Ignorant of the damage they've created.
Renewing life, through destructive force
Emerging of the Ashes, life's new rebirth.
From Nature's fury, the force of fire's born.
Destruction's enforcer, survivors left to mourn.
Scorching all held within its warm embrace.
Cursed by many of victims, often left in disgrace.
So simply materializing, all needed is but a spark.
Its brilliant elegance, illuminating all that's dark.
Creeping in new directions, destination unknown.
Overtaking nearly all, only safe is that of stone
Its true intentions, often impossible to discern.
The only constant, another fire will soon burn.
Sparks of breathtaking pleasure moans
Paint the night with luminous stars
Embrace the unknown that invites and hold it tight
Captivation of a new language that gives it light
Twilight of romantic exquisite sweet poetry writes
Artist core of whirlpool flight on the surface insights
Cool glistening ocean blackness
Under a canopy of materializing stars, inky water hearing the waves
Lapping kissing your toes,
A faint wind brush against the surface of your soul
Run the fickle pen and just let it flow into a spectacular ride
1/19/2016
- Poetry Contest: Spectacular Acrostic
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
Hoisted high Black flags sail,
Camouflaged by a misty veil,
A bow braced with forward guns,
Upon a ship no-one outruns,
This sight was seen through a scope,
A view of horror crushing all hope,
Terror races through the ship,
For they are within Davy Jones grip,
Bustling panic to throw weight over the side,
Anything and everything to save their hide,
Dark swells of clouds surround the merchant,
Like a sour jar of vinegar the crew fermant,
Kneeling, some pray for some type of saving,
Any rescue from what that vile ship is craving,
Villainous auras fills the air,
Causing halt to all prayer,
Will these pirates spare some of the lives,
Or send an empty ship back to their wives,
With every second the air gets thicker,
From the aft of the ship comes a flicker,
A barrage of small slugs rip through wood,
Boots and blood left where the cap'n stood,
Trepidation spotlights the first mate,
Unable to move due to sealed fate,
Through a portal all Hell enters,
For the helm was just splinters,
Without a doubt no lives will be spared,
The story of a rescue to never be shared,
A war horn sounds ringing in every ear,
Port side a figurehead in mist begins to leer,
Skeletal bones with a sickle, appears to be the reaper,
Materializing behind him the black flagged creeper,
With woods as dark as the Captain's soul,
The deck stained red from the Dutchmen's toll,
No visible crew leaves the merchants struck,
But this was not their type of luck,
From starboard side a hatchet was thrown,
Landing in the boswain's cheekbone,
Like serpents, pirates sliver over the side,
Some crew just buckled while others cried,
Hands raised high and knees into deckboard,
Now a chest soiled red by plunging sword,
Before every death was a faint wretched smell,
The kind only found rotting in a cell,
Cause Davy's crew were sentenced to jail,
An endless opaque sea faring Hell.
waltz partnered by the phantom
that was your once loving self,
undoubtedly accompanied by
potent hopeful aromas, yet
undertoned by doubt upon
translucent features materializing,
your true colours, feared interference,
ghostly eyes boring elsewhere.
a dance now sluggish as
upon the lower limbs formation,
choosing actively to escape
abandoning miasmas
of potent rotten love
intoxicating with dependence
that's not mine to chase.
unanswered questions linger
inescapable transformed rhetorical
that should've, for once,
forced a truth from your lips
that burn with lies, eternally aflame,
bringing every soul down with
your unfaithful, meaningless kisses.
lone upon the laminate dance floor,
as if a shattered mirrorball
the shards bursting fool's hope
right in the heart. pained reflection
of better times, ignorant
of the vast masts of red fabric,
washes through like waves—
yet drowning, flooding with woe
meandering every vessel
it swirls with acid
leaking from streaming ducts,
mixing with cruent crimson wine
from your backstabbing
dance affair, filling,
scathing the lungs aflame.
the last sooted breath stings—
tasting like bitter betrayal,
piercing the heart with finality.
it gazes as your heart swells,
for the next pretty thing,
and it shrinks tenfold
with hopeless realization.
Once upon a time, the Lord of spiritual consciousness
Was sitting peacefully on His blissful throne
Ceaselessly contemplating upon His equilibrium
T’ was the era of no moon, no sun, no stars, no earth,
No oceans, no rivers
Just a motionless, timeless and deathless entity it was
Happy with His existence
Suddenly the thought of sacred motion was felt
Deep down in his essence
Seeking the chaos to be stirred
From its core outwardly
Consequently separating the light from the darkness and
All the other elements that constitute the Cosmos
Thus giving birth immediately to old mighty time
When Time: This wizard of celestial art found himself alive
His expert hands stretched in advance, wanting to create
For that the plastic energy he took, that was everywhere around
And skillfully and patiently the Cosmos carved according to the Logos
Creating thus, the nebulae, the galaxies, the stars and all the other planets.
Then God looked at times creation and marveled with its beauty
But as there was no life to be seen in all of this creation
The thought of desire was born in God to inhabit every place
For that out of himself he cut myriads of blazing souls
Which like shooting stars he sent downwards to animate nature,
That was the way the souls beamed to manifestation’s cosmic sphere
Radiating their luminosity to reality’s lower planes
Bringing with them the sacred principles to denser forms of life
As they were passing from the spiritual, the mental and the astral
And finally materializing, themselves on the physical solid plane
Where life began on earth, with God’s will and grace!
©Demetrios Trifiatis
14 January 2013
As I see the mirror in front of me…there appears a flame
I have come accustomed to this feeling when I see her face
But wait…she is not materializing in from of me for she has not me to blame
This form has quaked my heart in that I feel as if it has been giving me a chase
I do not see the face of who I believed to be my mate
It is a face of someone new…THAT I HAVE SEEN BEFORE
Is my heart feeling the warmth of the flame or a mere fish looking at the bait?
Has the flame in the mirror given my life a new detour?
I know of the eyes that are looking at me…but from a close distance with calm.
She has seen the truth and sees herself as my rib.
Here eyes I have seen without the mask and are now to my lips a sweet balm!
The angels are speaking to our hearts and are saying that the one flesh will create ones with a bib.
The thread in the tapestry is coming to the pattern of the grand design of their lives
The flame in the mirror is on both sides of the view, they see each other in each others’ lives
Sorry...No Time To Play UNO With Dada!
Forgotten memory jarred
beholding two decks UNO
materializing from...thin air,
(Spongebob Squarepants nonetheless),
I vividly recall both offspring
as bubbly little girls
their most favorite card game
both daughters grown
into independent womanhood
(playtime verboten shunted aside,
they now chess attend Life)
relished with zeal
beating pants of this papa
feigned shock, when fingers
strained to the max
grasping bulk of cards
heard the word "UNO"
followed by profuse laughter
which round mirth
subsequently invited eager plea
to play board game "SORRY,"
outcome already predicted,
but yours truly,
he indulged revelling
giddy atmosphere,
and willingly acquiesced
arbitrarily choosing
least favorite color
arranging game pieces,
within designated starting place
half heartedly perturbed
nary a dice throw yielded
thee requisite number one
finally after Oracle of Delphi
bore predicted rout
with near defeat
meaning either lass
almost got all her "men" home,
aye cast die for numeral uno,
gingerly proceeded to roll dice,
a long shot ambition
to advance my four pawns,
and exalt with sought after
glee to edge ahead,
but lovely girls strategy
and motive (dispensing, donning,
trumpeting... retribution – payback,
when supposedly this “sir” mean)
uttered sinister laugh
as one or more selected
mine "men" almost home
happily sent back to start.