Long Merging Poems
Long Merging Poems. Below are the most popular long Merging by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Merging poems by poem length and keyword.
The Buffalo church, it is implodin'
Rhetoric flarin', parishes unloadin'
We're good enough to give, but have no say in votin'
You don't believe in division, but what's that decree your totin'
You fired our trustees and now you're gloatin'
But you tell me over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
Don't you understand what we're tryin' to say?
And can't you feel the fears we're feelin' today?
If the buildings gone, many souls will drift away
How you gonna save them before they reach the grave
Take a look around you, oye, it's bound to scare you, oye
And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
Yeah, we are so mad, about this devastation
We're sittin' here just contemplatin'
Yes you claim your truth, but twist your regulations
Handful of prelates don't pass legislation
And merging alone can't bring integration
When parishioner respect is disintegratin'
This Die-or-Cease is just too frustratin'
And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
Think of all the hate there is against religion
Then take a look around to that which you are creatin'
Ah, you may go on retreat, for days of grace
But when you return, it's the same old place
The flappin' of the gums, the pride Mass of disgrace
You can bury your deeds, but don't leave a trace
Close our next door parish, tell us how we rate
And tell me over and over and over again, my friend
You don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
No, no, you don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
The warm spring emerged, smiling.
Of artistry, until he almost started talking.
Once spring, flowers start to bloom.
And create an aesthetical painting on the gloom.
The melody of the spectrum is merging to green.
And the birds singing on the trees and convene.
The sun is blushing, and the breeze is fragrant.
The world looks to us adorned in this lakefront.
I apply a look at all the pearls dancing on the horizon.
Do not ask if the bright spring falls from heaven.
As a result, my grief has faded, and I am berry.
I've even seen people savor the mild spring sappily.
And don't bother asking me around orchids.
Why did the changes occur? It had healed itself.
The Spring gave us green leaves and hearts?
Blossom improves spirit and vital parts.
Bliss beat’s divine chime slows down flow of time
but how may this be articulated,
for words are but symbols,
offering not the taste,
of this sublime elixir that in-pours from heaven?
On melding head with heart, this paradox is resolved
but what does this merging truly mean,
in as how may it be accomplished,
that we know in definitiveness,
as does a caterpillar on becoming a beautiful butterfly?
On choosing to slow down flow of fragmented thought,
by becoming a nonchalant observer of body-mind,
ego identity drops away, since it is now unfed,
yet innate awareness pulsates in the void,
where we see our true self as the light that lights all lights.
Trapped in the open, consciousness is yet always free within,
known unmistakably if we befriend vibrance of silence,
effortlessly resting in the cave of our glowing heart,
where union of polarities results in an explosion,
gripping attention in a continuum of bliss magnetised peace.
The cosmic joke is on us, since all this recognition reveals,
is light of our being which always was, is and will be
and so in truth no enlightenment is attained,
since ego that sought has disappeared
but that that dies in truth never was but a bubble of illusion.
As the old adage goes, the ego can never accept the truth
and so it resists, caging consciousness in thought forms,
which reworded means we live in a state of hypnosis,
deludedly believing we are this limited form,
whereas in truth our eternal essence is beyond space-time.
With no agenda in our shelf,
having become the witness self,
our gentle touch and mindful eye,
allows life to flow by itself.
There yet are moments when we sigh,
since thought tempests take time to die
but for the most part, we are still
and in the vast void, wingless fly.
We sense in heart, bliss nectar spill
and drink greedily to our fill,
which is of course to steady mind,
surrendering to God our will.
Thoughts slow down and we become kind,
our head and heart, with love aligned
and as we slowly vaporise,
fears and desires no longer bind.
This oh monk, is the way we rise,
ceasing to weigh, measure or size,
merging soul with the all-that-is,
feeling each heartbeat in surprise.
Presence gazing outside the bedroom window
Heart outpouring softened attention mellow
Gentle stirrings within, magnetise space
Resonance drawing in divine grace
As enigmatic pull of pristine innocence
Playful intent to simply uninhibitedly dance
Wherein identity recedes in trusting surrender
Beholding both manifestation and void in wonder
Having relinquished resident memory imagery
Melding with the universe in gentle reverie
Osmotically imbibing divine inspirations
Meditation infused God benedictions
Neither sizing nor calibrating the impulse
Emanating from a centreless fulcrum at once
Thus moment to moment all moments entwined
Blurring boundaries between mind-body and divine
All the doings are yet done although we do no doing
Save by yearning for union, with the void merging
Luminous pheromones celebrate in harmony
Beauteous rhythmic cadence of eternity
Centred in the spiralling vibrancy of renewal
Spherical cognition assimilates thus the miracle
Blossoming within in a slow motion delightful tease
Each moment intimacy of embrace and release
Being to become crystallised in language
Holographic wholeness upon a page
Symbolised thus with purity of our intent
Accorded by our spacial heart, loving consent
Whereupon, we review each nuance of impression
Reviewing possible perceptions of delineation
Yet more oft than not, who here may follow
Swift spontaneous flight of the swallow
29-April-2021
Natural Sacraments
Emerge from what sacred center,
committed to integrity's potential
become more resilient,
and not fragile
More nature-soul evolving
Earth's deepest
widest
longest
roundest
mountainous
dark valleyed sacraments
of light and power.
Gandhi regenerated
humane love lives on
and
inhumane hate
abuse
bigotry
patriarchal colonization
do not.
Even lesser losses
tend to shadow fade
across therapeutic rememorizing space
and laws of positive passion
Bodhisattva ruling
warm wombed pregnant co-attachment
becoming unconditional win/win
peak messianic experience
of panentheistic spacious time,
wonder of democratic light
awe of deep dark economic power.
"It gives me ineffable joy
to go on
trying to prove that"
love lives on
where hate cannot.
Gandhi,
affirming integrity's sacred meaning
cooperates with therapeutic bloom,
and not hate's Loser doom
Win/Lose uncivil wars
and internal traumas
and Othering 0-sum competitive history
of disintegrating ecopolitical hostility
cannot destroy
our NonZero root chakra Soul
Curiously
constantly
resiliently
resonantly inviting EarthJustice
Peace within
as without
only one orthodox way to live
yet a legion of ways to die,
biologically
ecologically
politically
economically
spiritually
naturally
unnaturally
unspiritually
ZeroSum Capitalistically
yet
pregnant NonZero Soulfully
Sacred Round Integrity
embracing Secular Civil Equity
as universal passion
invites unitarian pleasure
as beloved
as bilateral breathing
love-life rivered
shivered
shimmering...
summoning warm empathic regard
This personal, intimate project
of becoming fully humane
holonically reflects Earth's divine project
into panentheistic Spirit's nature:
integral EarthTribe transcendence
From what pantheistic soul
does inter-religious commitment
become more therapeutic,
and less traumatic?
Healing intimately transcendent potential,
Sacred Integrity's naturally spiritual,
Earth conservationally liberal
universal life--unitarian love
healthy multisensory
peak experience
merging resilient
Bodhisattva synergy
transubstantiating EarthTribe sacraments
of healthy light peak
and power valley night
re/de generation.
O my beloved ...have I drawn in you
...my luminous inestimable atmospheres
have I in black and white droplets... instilled for you
that ...it is balmy ...devouring and dear
have I seized you with careful crystal threads
bound you tight
with soluble thoughts that salt and pepper the pages
in your given name
have I held your hand in running cold ever streams
let our hand heat merging
...deny arctic dominion
have we fingered wet rocks side by side
our arms extended from our wrists in unison
such that you have seen it?
O my beloved have I in my song origins set in you a tablet of ascendancy
...the pale radiance of rapture
the darkened obscurity of heart-break ...exhaustion's collapse
O my beloved have I ever owned your supple maw
...your bowing being?
...your sequestered self?
and as for this...weight of life is light and dense
as sun on water flirts and moon caresses
firmness of bush and brook and moth and tree
....strikes stars!
to rip the soul a-wide to all things
O how the flowers explode forth in your name!
the bees to firmament alight!
the grasses grow deep seed green...
even sea foam frothy
perceiving your breath... it's perfume to bring to my wanting lips
I am as the bark on the tree...
cavernous
russet... fragile and burly brown
I command channels ways of spun glass...
in orange ...red ...yellow and gold
Chihuly...am I...
O beloved
I am and the sea is my quintessence
...and you are a shell of perfect pearl
resting in my pink palm
holding the stratosphere in yours
(written long ago...edited today)
New life from womb to pass
through childhood and youth
and then with time merging
to serene seniority
or premature end at any time
facing ruthless truth.
Or inevitable death to meet
after attaining maturity !
Anyway ending in tomb.
Sense of awareness more or less
achieved at last phase,
Source is introspection !
All preserved and reserved
treasures of heart
are destined to be left
at end of journey of life.
Yet last console of soul
is the wishful realisation:
Reincarnation,
not extinction.
01/21/23
My dubiously protagonist Self
outgrows toward a co-invested
cooperative
co-governing center
A core UnWhite House communication center
Tao training for sacred positive
and trauma negation memories
Into ecologically
and economically
Right whole open
PanenTheistic MacroEconomic Intelligence
Amping up
co-relational win/win choices
through unconditional regard
of global
inside/outside co-discernment
voiced human choices
Ego AnthroPrivileged
by secularizing LeftHemisphere
health and safety cooperative wants
evolving old tired competitive addictive needs
to defend revolutionary
evolutionary win/lose theories
that predation is normative
whether in a win/win thrival opportunity
or in a win/lose risk to survival time
Not mentioning
survive together to thrive
communal co-empathic
win/win imaginations
empowering enlightened co-governance
animating long-term resilience histories
My intimately win/win highest and best
co-redemption narratives
feel like a sacred housed cooperative
trauma-free awareness
and copassionate intent
to live together EarthTribe curiously,
yet confidently,
win/win animated
sacredly together
On, but not overpowering,
my cusp of traumatic anxiety triggers
and co-therapeutic anticipated compassions
together deepending mutually co-invested
ownership and co-therapeutic
natural health and spiritual safety
intent
Calls my sacred housing cooperative images
merging projects for
and from
cooperative nondogmatic experiences
comforted by food and energy
nurturing resilience
Appreciating river-front environmental green
and clean
co-relational preservation
not at all bully mean
Historical-multicultural
Right-sacred/Left-secularizing
co-discernment spirit-mind/nature-body skills
of cooperative
co-governing communications
For green compassionate resilience
reproducing inside imaged
EarthPeace therapeutic homes
and panentheistic gardens
in/out-sided
wellness-rounded
competing mortal space
throughout immortal time
for EarthTribe's health-cultural
co-responsive resonance.
Jodie Foster is frying peppers and eggs.
It is late and her legs ache
as she scrambles the yokes,
sautés the jalapenos.
Today a jerk again compared her
to the film actress.
A life she never wanted keeps invading her reality.
Even though she was born earlier
people consider her the ‘wrong one.’
Not for the first time
she imagines changing her name,
A noise upstairs, the woman freezes
then runs to her understairs closet,
bolting the door.
Footsteps descend.
It is the movie star Jodie Foster,
She has a gun and is seeking her imposter.
Life-scripts are merging;
she understands why she has always avoided
cliffhangers - suspense thrillers.
Jodie cries softly in the dark
clutching a Dollar Store spatula
that will never work as well as a branded one.