Long Moulds Poems
Long Moulds Poems. Below are the most popular long Moulds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moulds poems by poem length and keyword.
wealth prosperity abundance not synonymous
accumulation leads to conceit of rich
complex opulence
dualism anxiety
inferior-superior byzantines
wealth increases mentality illusions
fierce finance hoarding arise
this happens only in material plain
having does not guarantee prosperity
second always embrace aspects of being
relationship and active community —
when prosperity focused
simplicity flows, transparency results
philanthropic outlook gives
circulates
flourishes self and others
breath within breath clear
core strengthens
organically
prosperity, abundance a potency
in mentality
subtle vibrations move heart
slowed frequencies develop
transmuting third dimensional character
increases focus on spiritual as
starting point
abide quietly, knowing
abundance moves each sand grain
ear of wheat, water atom
every thread of chromosome
it moves in circles
live spirals in human flesh
giving back to family, community
ultimately to divine
fresh moulds are circulated
dances authentic
powers stability, serenity, peace
contentment births clarity
of godly purpose
______________________
where adolescence melts into adulthood, regrets crystallised,
where a musician’s fingers move along trumpet or oboe, notes faded -
there my soul slips into a sunset, a sea
where autumn leaves red crunch into winter, freezing coughs of flour,
where ice cubes thaw in garden glasses forgotten, covered in the flies of summer -
there my soul slips into a sunset, a horizon
where confidence moulds into arrogance, unknown into undiscovered into blind misunderstanding,
where suggestion develops rule becomes law forms ink on parchment, wax sealed -
there my soul slips into a sunset, a wave
where foot meets earth and hand caresses air,
where cloth kisses skin and beast hunts prey, silent fire -
there my soul slips into a sunset, a dusk ignorance of time
passing
It ceases to be
at least in it's present form
than she spoke me as hers
in the relevance of love
might we stand together
in the unity of being
as lovers
committed
devote
as friends
together as one
a tribute to
Love
in all it's understanding
Love as it is defined
with every opportunity
to be together
and belong to one another
amorevole
Love in every shade
From "Mention Me"
by A.Gar Boots
aka Dolce Araia
rewritten with permission
by: Calm Vallies of
Tree Moulds and Vapor Productions
a Oasis Music Co.
kindness and tenderness
harmonious
harmonious
the transquilty of
Love
we as Lovers
con tenerezza
Shall every dawn a gentle sculptor be,
That moulds the clay of thought with softest art?
As yonder flower, bathed in crystal sea.
Doth catch the light and teach the drooping heart.
From golden vein where dewdrops slowly trace
Their shinning path along the petal's curve ,
So doth the mind, in quiet, sacred space,
Absorb the strength that daily trials serve.
Teach it to trust the root that grips the earth,
Though tempests rage and shadows cloak the sky;
For in the bloom that drinks the morning's birth,
Lies power born where fragile droplets lie.
Thus shape thy soul as dawn's own hand designs--
Believe thine own bright strength , and claim what shines.
a ray of hope
stings the tale
feathers the tar of life
to grow once more
no illusion without sunshine
a prism abandoned
broken mirror of
headlights in a tunnel
canary breathing afresh
in the mines of her mind
the curtain opens again
for a round of applause
as new dawn avails
spheres of transient change
her spotlight beams
bounces its focus
examines doubts of darkness
with a critical lens
foreshadows dew drops
melts the poet
emotes waning blindness
moulds acceptance of dusk
narrates the core
performance art from the heart
a spectral kaleidoscope
with realms of intent
13th August 2021
After many travels
Through time and space
In her hands he had arrived
In her hands he was found
In her hands he could now hear
The fairies sing the angels praise
Yet in her hands he lost himself
Yet he remained contented
Satiating his need for her
In her hands he had now anchored
His much journeyed traveler’s vessel
The vessel that had known many lands
Of beauty and over pestering passions
Now needed he with a steady steamy passion
To explore this new land of beauty and charm
The gaping valleys and towering mountain moulds
In her hands his journey had taken a most exciting turn
#Ackmi luis 2016
Kissed-
By the morning sun
The rain
Of the night before
Becomes undone
Rising-
In a steaming haze
As we make our way
To the place
Where the land
Is mostly sand
And meets the road
Where
The ocean breezes blow
There-
In a silver glow
We kneel below
The banks
Where the earth
Is wet and dank
Sheltered
From the wind
As the buoy bells ring
And the sea grasses sing
Notes of promise
Of what this day
Will bring
From sacks upon our backs
We find the moulds
Of glass and earthen bowls
Cracked
And chipped and old
We fill them
To the top
With grains of sand
Then
Place them
Upside down
With loving hands
As we wander through
The visions in our mind
Transfixed-
As the magic
Of our dreams
Unwind
We work for hours
Lost in time
Carving roads
That twist and wind
To the very end of day
Where we stand
Amazed
Gazing-
At the empire
We have made
~~~
In the morning
With eyes aglow
We return
To the banks below
And watch
In disbelief
As our empire
Is blown away
By a north wind
Filled with
Rage
He looks shy, timid, and withdrawn, as though he knows nothing.
Yet, astuteness whirls in him like monsoon floods in a dam.
He is an ace at intuitive thinking and judging.
He's a lively lion, though he looks like a little lamb.
He composes music. He plays it. He sings in gladness.
Fervour, fondness, and fluency flame in him like fire.
He is calm even in times when he sings in his sadness.
His strength, staunchness, dedication, and devotion inspire
He loves the complex; tests the untested; tries the untried.
Waves and vibes of optimism flow from them; chill and thrill all.
His thoughts, words, and actions never have any tinge of pride.
Between good, bad, great, and small beings, he doesn't build a wall.
He motivates each marred mind as he moulds his masterpiece.
There, in his soul break, seen or unseen, waves of cosmic peace
Indefinite Infinity in space and time aye doth toss,
Itself diffusely, enclosing entirety in the cosmos,
Only to baffle the stupid,spellbound ,eerie puzzle
Of forms and moulds that ever keep up the dazzle
Every little odd thing claims its own due existence ;
All great marks, flags and colours make no sense
And look like just little dunes and pits on the spot
Or if more, are spilled,broken and torn ones a lot;
Every living thing darts across to catch the other,
Feed on,feast on or enslave all that it doth gather
The lava that erupts from within the restless land
The lofty sweeps of storms and winds reprimand
The deviant excess that yields the froth and slag
As futile tertiaries do stem out of the empty brag !
When Thor struck his hammer
upon the flat ground on Earth
it was the pieces withstood the blow we named rock,
constructs we came to know as the mountains.
Even before that time
I crossed my fingers
wished I'd one day experience
...you.
I knew you before heavenly purity grew wings
before angels blessed hearts
invoking what we now know as love for our brethren .
I held you in the sphere of my understanding
as the lover I'd never meet but always carry
in the most cherished of my thoughts.
When Zeus handed me his quill and inkwell I knew
I would only use his gift for my inspired notes to you.
Though I was not blessed a poets words
like Robert Browning
he who took Elizabeth Barrett into his heart from the first time he read her
so I did with you.
Only laid blood on parchment
to declare the love you inspired in me.
Like a schoolboy's first kiss
was the day my eyes embraced the body of your work.
Before the first pine broke the ground, the first lark sang,
the first orchards rare enchanted the rainforests.
Before the first chameleon blended
into the multicoloured break of dawn.
Before infinite rows of wheat invitingly waved from the fields to greet Hera.
Before liquid rose to separate into
creeks, swamps, rivers, lakes with fish of all kinds
wasn't it me who rode the first seahorse just to make you smile.
Anything, all...
possible
with the swirl of a letter
the turn of a word.
I found an immense love tracking the shores of your fine poetry
always a chill that ran up my back.
No one.
No one!
Only you.
Your fine talent,
gifted,
honed
perfected...flaws and all...
moulds
sculpts,
breathes life into ordinary words,
creates poetry
owns me.
September 26 2016 MY