Long Merge Poems
Long Merge Poems. Below are the most popular long Merge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Merge poems by poem length and keyword.
The Queen of fairies fell asleep
upon a bed of thistledown.
And didn't notice the hours creep
as she dreamt of a golden gown.
She was to meet the setting sun,
so she waited with bated breath.
For at dusk, they will merge as one
and together conquer death.
Darkness shrouds the sun as it dies,
draping the night in ebony.
But, she was too sleepy to rise,
and missed her date with destiny.
She woke to find there was no sun,
its light would never shine again.
And such things couldn't be undone,
despite her overwhelming pain.
She sent her magic to the sky,
but all the stars silently fell.
And alone, she began to cry,
like she'd opened the gates of Hell.
(Quatrain)
6/19/2015
Incomers
From the middle east and Africa, people seek European shores
dispossessed and poverty struck, they seek, a better life
a promised life of democracy and work for everyone
Many, when reaching Europe, cross the channel from France
in Britain, thanks to the BBC World program.
Their point of embarkation is Libya, once a successful state
now a rough country laid low when their leader, Ghaddafi
was murdered by Western power getting their blood dripping
hands-on petroleum.
With many races and cultures coming to Europe, one asks?
Is there an upper limit for this invasion; is there a moment?
When, this must stop for the sake of the individual nation-states?
Is this influx good for Europe, making it malleable for business
a low-wage economy and no bothersome trade union?
The truth is, in Western countries, have a net loss of newborns
because of a high standard of living and top-educated women
who no longer want to be burdened by many children, this
make perfect sense not to waste time with childbearing.
When Russia noticed the population was retracted, they did
something about this and introduced an economic plan to
counter this and gained; we see the same in Nordic countries
In Portugal, say, too few children are born it only takes
a couple of generations to empty the land of its inhabitants
Migrants to our shore can be a blessing infusing new blood
to an ageing population, it may not be like the nation of Yore
two cultures merge, that is better than being forgotten. No?
Start with being, feel becoming:
Good feelings start with joy unseen;
Feel true being now becoming:
Trust feeling heart and mind within.
Listen and heed a secret strange:
"We become what we think about."
Seed wants and needs in cheery change,
"No ifs or buts, thoughts bring about."
Pay attention and work within:
Follow your heart to find the way;
Word new action in work unseen:
Poise poignant start in private play.
Discern and know a secret range;
"Focus imparts what thought's about."
Look to a show in secret strange;
"I become what I think about."
Be mindful then and do the work:
Concentrate now to gain grand grounds;
Pitch here and when firm tact can jerk:
For thought endows wise gain profound.
Be willing now, live secret grand:
"We become what we think about."
Fine gift knows how to forge bold trends:
"Spread a sure start thoughts bring about."
Work deep within with faith and hope:
Merge heart and mind to boldly align;
Work joy unseen with love that scopes:
Seek what you find in grand design.
Listen and heed a secret strange:
"We become what we think about."
Seed wants and needs in cheery change,
"Live grandeur's art, thoughts create clout."
Leon Enriquez
14 May 2015
Singapore
It is time to change the gear
you are causing a mountain of fear
people are running to and fro
looking for a safe place to go
the cars are climbing slowly up the hill
and there is a traffic jam and I hope
that you can understand.
Nothing is coming and nothing is going
the heat is raging and everyone is complaining
meet me in the conference room at three
I have something important to tell thee
bring the team with you and you must
not leave until you tie up the loose ends
and transfer the lion out of the den.
Ego is flying from tree to tree absorbing my
innate energy we have wasted so much time
up and down the galaxy looking for that single
proof that water is on the roof the distance you
travel to merge day into night is over a million
miles and you repeat the pattern from time to time.
At the stroke of a pen you have shaken the world
with just one word you have broken the deal
spilling venom on the street, all the work that
was done in previous years has suddenly
disappeared in thin air
and we are right back where we begin.
What are you going to do?
are you going to let your pride falls
through the roof you have got to change
gears before the universe disappears, the
people are crying desperately over there
and there is no one to care.
Some things are just not feasible
for they create lots of evil
you have to make a lot of adjustment for them to
make sense, you are walking on thin line
and you must change gears to get it right
For what reason did you brought me here
when you have created so much fear
the damage is already done and destiny is on the run
It is not the time to brag and boast or indulge
In self-praise, make up a different agenda
some executive plans will not work
they will sink right into the earth
and leave some men without shirt
Take the meat off the bone
and make a call to the Vatican
in Rome you have got to get
everyone on the same page
Lest you wipe out the human race
You have to change the gears
and eliminate the factor that
is causing people to fear
Trade in all the stick-shift
and begin the negotiation at six.
Listen for meaning,
Meaning in seeing,
Seeing true being,
Being in becoming.
Listen for a voice,
Voice that claims bold choice,
Choice in crystal poise,
Poise that must ever rejoice.
Listen to the light,
Light that feeds plain sight,
Sight in cheery flight,
Flight that feelings turn right.
Listen for a flow,
Flow in fiery glow,
Glow that calm now grows,
Grows as wise finesse shows.
Listen to the soul,
Soul that knows a whole,
Whole beyond twin poles,
Poles offering clear roles.
Listen to a theme,
Theme for haunting dream,
Dream that puzzles scheme,
Scheme in taunting extreme.
Listen for a sign,
Sign in distinct finds,
Finds that fit design,
Design in merge of minds.
Listen and follow,
Follow that hollow,
Hollow in marrow,
Marrow that feels swallow.
Listen if you must,
Must adjust your trust,
Trust in weary dust,
Dust that knows empty rust.
Leon Enriquez
04 November 2014
Singapore
Tunneling through nightscapes,
weightless moon doll escapes.
Collapsing space-time,
the pages and pages,
of fluttering windblown stages
in quantum nonlocality,
a graphic novel engages.
Burrowing through dystopian nocturne,
the night traffic gives us heartburn.
In magical claytronics, everyone is reassembled,
reincarnated by cosmic consciousness,
a karmic cautiousness, a persistence of
endless distance but finite parallel.
We see the light out of this tunnel.
Can we make the quantum leap?
Casting aside ego, agency falls away as
subject and object merge. These urban
alleys meander in uncharted charcoal
where moonlight and streetlight converge.
Karmic propensities, the good and bad
conditioning restrain us to this dingy dark.
Tunneling is tiring when there is no end,
like remembering ourselves in past lives,
and knowing who we will be in coming times.
All of these identities, these storylines are explained
by the ground of being integral to all things.
This is the consciousness, the Dharma.
Near-death shows us the light beyond the tunnels,
beyond the grimy graphic novel, a liberation
beyond birth, death, and rebirth.
Quantum leap now to the luminous mind, the moksha,
the complete nirvana.
Traffic lights flash, but we're far from light
Heavy flow on streets, emotions flow tight
Horns blare a symphony, tempers blare too
We're all packed in, feeling blue
Drive me crazy, this gridlock scene
Drive a hard bargain, just to stay clean
Cars run smooth, but patience runs thin
Time runs out as we're running in
Stress mounts up like cars on a hill
Road rage boils, but we can't spill
Bottleneck here, choked up there
Exhausted drivers, exhaust in the air
Signal your turn, but who'll signal care?
Rush hour's rush leaves us worse for wear
Brake for others, don't break the rules
Brake pads wearing, wearing us like fools
Merge with traffic, ideas merge too
How to fix this? Clues are few
Pass the time, but can't pass through
Pass judgment on those passing you
Cruise control? Ha! We're not in control
Take the wheel, take a toll on the soul
Steer clear of trouble, clear as mud
This jam's preserving nothing good
Lane discipline? That's a dead end
Right of way? Rights soon bend
Left turn ahead, nothing's right
High beams blind us to any light
Speed up, slow down, it's all the same
In this stop-and-go losing game
Rear-ended thoughts, front-end collisions
Road to nowhere, faulty decisions
So we inch along this concrete stream
Progress crawls, crawls our dream
Of free-flowing days, of open roads
Where "traffic" means more than heavy loads
But for now, we're stuck in this jam
Vehicles, ideas, all in a cram
The traffic of thoughts, the traffic of cars
Moving nowhere, under traffic stars
In the deep night, when the moon weaves silver threads over the sleeping earth,
I wander through the old alleys of memory,
where the shadows of the past merge with the clouds of the present.
Encountering a verse from a mysterious and forgotten book,
I feel the cold penetrate deep into the marrow of my bones,
And no flame, no matter how bright,
could banish the frost that envelops me.
It is as if the top of my head has been opened,
letting the winds rustle through my mind,
Blowing memories and emotions like dry leaves through a September forest.
What cruel magic is this,
that makes me tremble under the weight of words,
I wonder, as the pages turn like the wings of a bird trapped in the cage of silence.
The letters flow, a river of black ink pouring into the ocean of my soul,
Creating waves crashing against the shores of consciousness,
shaking my being to its depths.
It is as if time were a canvas stretched on a loom,
And each word a thread of light and shadow,
weaving my story into an ancient and mysterious tapestry.
In that moment, in that instant suspended between reality and dream,
I know I have found poetry,
That gateway to unknown universes,
where each verse whispers the secrets of the heart.
And though the cold embraces me, and ice pierces my skin,
I understand that the magic of words is what gives life to both cold and warmth.
In a mystical dance, I lose myself in the labyrinth of letters,
Touching the edge of eternity with my fingertips,
And although the world remains silent around me,
in my heart erupts a symphony of feelings,
And I know, without a doubt, that what I feel is poetry.
I wish
I could into a deep blue sea dive
Have the flowing flood of tears subside
Let my smile surface and revive
And my woes would ever cease to survive..
I wish
I could the highest of mountains mount
And from its very summit
I would see with no doubt
How tiny my tribulations and vain to wane about..
I wish
I could widely fly
Reach the heart of the sky
And how light I am I would realise
Having dropped the heaviest of burdens so far..
I wish
I could on a solid land land
And feel the strength of the path I tread
Be sure not to stumble
When I raise high my head..
I wish
I could vanish into darkness
With a void I would merge
Attain a leading light
And with serenity I would converge..
I wish
I could follow an inner time to rise
Bright, full of energy and willing to shine
Despite the weights of dark nights
Seek the Light of God, bow to the Sublime and end my fights
I wish
I could not just bathe but sink
In a so pigmented thick ink
Draw and colour in a wondrous beauty
Paintings and portraits with my poetry..
A festive feel in red and gold:
Chinatown deals Goat year most grand.
A splash of will as joy unfolds:
A Chinese fill as cheer attends.
~~~~~~~~~
This lunar year arrives with truth:
Our kindred ties forge a fine fest.
Those who are dear gather fond proof:
Our fortunes high in lovely quest.
~~~~~~~~~
Paint the town red takes new meaning:
Feel fond delight that ushers joy.
Poise favours red in warm sightings:
Feel grand insight in wealthy ploys.
~~~~~~~~~
Now we visit our kin folk here:
Auspicious wit merge with fine stay.
Now each to each greet with good cheer:
Prosper and reach this happy day.
~~~~~~~~~
Give red packets with blessings fond:
Touch now can live grandeur this spring.
Lucky trinkets to fill life's pond:
Joy heaps and gives as true health sings.
~~~~~~~~~
Such festive joy can fill the heart:
A touch beyond primes charming feel.
Good luck funds ploy in brilliant start:
A rhyme upon a springtime fill.
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
18 February 2015
Singapore