Long Poem Topics

Check out these short poem topics. Find short poems by topic or form.

abortion absence
abuse addiction
adventure africa
age allah
allegory allusion
america analogy
angel anger
angst animal
anniversary anti bullying
anxiety appreciation
april arabic
art assonance
aubade august
autumn baby
bangla baptism
baseball basketball
beach beautiful
beauty bereavement
best friend betrayal
bible bio
bird birth
birthday black african american
blessing blue
boat body
books boxing day
boy boyfriend
break up bridal shower
brother bullying
business butterfly
cancer candy
car care
career caregiving
cat celebration
celebrity change
chanukah character
cheer up chicago
child child abuse
childhood children
chocolate christian
christmas cinco de mayo
cinderella city
class clothes
color columbus day
community computer
confidence conflict
confusion cool
corruption courage
cousin cowboy
crazy creation
crush cry
culture cute love
dad daffodils
dance dark
daughter day
death death of a friend
december dedication
deep depression
desire destiny
devotion discrimination
divorce dog
dream drink
drug earth
earth day easter
education emo
emotions encouraging
endurance engagement
england environment
epic eulogy
eve evil
fairy faith
family fantasy
farewell farm
fashion fate
father father daughter
father son fathers day
fear february
feelings film
fire firework
first love fish
fishing flower
flying food
football for children
for her for him
for kids forgiveness
freedom french
friend friendship
fruit fun
funeral funny
funny love future
games garden
gender giggle
girl girlfriend
giving god
golf good friday
good morning good night
goodbye gospel
gothic graduate
graduation grandchild
granddaughter grandfather
grandmother grandparents
grandson grave
green grief
growing up growth
guitar hair
halloween happiness
happy happy birthday
hate health
heart heartbreak
heartbroken heaven
hello hero
high school hilarious
hindi hip hop
history hockey
holiday holocaust
home homework
hope horror
horse house
how i feel howl
humanity humor
humorous hurt
husband hyperbole
i am i love you
i miss you identity
image imagery
imagination immigration
independence day innocence
insect inspiration
inspirational integrity
international internet
introspection ireland
irony islamic
january jealousy
jesus jewish
jobs journey
joy judgement
july june
kid kindergarten
kiss language
leadership leaving
life light
little sister london
loneliness lonely
longing loss
lost lost love
love love hurts
lust lyric
magic malayalam
marathi march
marriage math
may me
meaningful memorial day
memory men
mental illness mentor
metaphor middle school
military miracle
mirror miss you
missing missing you
mom money
moon morning
mother mother daughter
mother son mothers day
motivation mountains
moving on mum
murder muse
music my child
my children mystery
myth mythology
name native american
natural disasters nature
new year new years day
new york nice
niece night
nonsense nostalgia
november nursery rhyme
obituary ocean
october old
onomatopoeia pain
paradise parents
paris parody
pashto passion
patriotic peace
people perspective
pets philosophy
places planet
poems poetess
poetry poets
political pollution
poverty power
prayer prejudice
preschool presidents day
pride princess
prison proposal
psychological purple
quinceanera race
racism rain
rainbow rainforest
rap raven
recovery from red
relationship religion
religious remember
remembrance day repetition
retirement riddle
rights river
romance romantic
rose roses are red
rude sad
sad love satire
scary school
science science fiction
sea seasons
self senses
sensual september
sexy sick
silence silly
silver simile
simple sin
sister sky
slam slavery
sleep smart
smile snow
soccer social
society softball
soldier solitude
sometimes son
song sorrow
sorry soulmate
sound space
spanish spiritual
spoken word sports
spring star
stars storm
strength stress
student success
suicide summer
sun sunset
sunshine surreal
sweet symbolism
sympathy tamil
teacher teachers day
technology teen
teenage thank you
thanks thanksgiving
thanksgiving day tiger
time today
together travel
tree tribute
true love trust
truth universe
uplifting urban
urdu usa
vacation valentines day
vanity veterans day
violence visionary
vogon voice
volleyball voyage
war water
weather wedding
wife wind
wine winter
wisdom woman
women word play
words work
world world war i
world war ii write
writing yellow
youth

Long Mountains Poems

Long Mountains Poems. Below are the most popular long Mountains by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mountains poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Debbie Duncan | Details |

BY THE SEA

PART One,,,, as she saw it.


The mountains and the meadows were always so beautiful this time of year.  It seemed as if a fresh new world always came to life. The high cliffs turned sharply downward.  As I sat listening to the ocean tides smashing against the walls of the mountain below. There was a mild breeze blowing from the south. The grass in the flower covered meadows moved with the breeze. The sun shined so brightly I thought it would melt me at times.

As I stood up from the log where I was sitting by the emerald forest, the breeze pressed my dress against me. It formed to the soft round curves of my breast, down through the curves of my waist pushing against my yielding hips. As I blinked from the sun, I saw him there in the distance. I had thought I was alone. But there he was,  starring straight at me. What would I do and where could I turn? I knew what kinds of thoughts men had, my mother told me all about them. I saw that he was beginning to move my way!

 I saw him there as he saw me. I was paralyzed, not knowing what direction to move. Though as I watched him from afar, he did not seem dangerous as my mother always warned. Still, I could hear her words like a tape recorder in the back of my mind.
               
 Should I dare take my eyes from his? I could see his eyes were dark, maybe brown, or even midnight blue.  Whatever the color, I could tell they were smoldering with restrained passions. His hair was long to his shoulder blades. I knew that because it moved with the wind.  He had broad shoulders with long legs. I knew I must not let him reach me. If his arms entangled me, surely I would never get loose. And, I'm not sure I would want too. Even though I heard the words of my mother, running in my head.
 I could feel the tiny beads of sweat trickling down between my breasts. I was not sure I should take my eyes from him as I leaned down to pick up the fan that had slipped from my hand to my bare feet.

PART ONE,,,, As he saw it.

  The winter snow had melted and yielded to the bright warming rays of the spring sun.  The bears had come out of hibernation with their new born looking for food. The mountains and the meadows were born again, new, fresh and alive with life.  Everything was beautiful and as it should be. Birds singing, their mating songs blended with the crash of the surf against the steep cliffs of the mountain. Nature was at peace with itself, and I came here to share in this peace.  To be alone with the earth, or so I thought.  

I found a place to sit on the grass hidden among the flowers in the high meadows.  So I could enjoy the gentle breeze blowing while watching the forest animals. The warm sun caressed my body and warmed me. It was a prefect day, yet something was missing. A day like this needed to be shared with someone, someone special.  Stretching,  I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, just across the enchanted forest  of a beautiful women. It couldn't be possible as no one knew of this place. I had come here for years and had never seen an another person before. Yet, there she was. Dressed in a dress the wind made love to, pressing it to her body. Clinging to the sensual curves of her breast, down to her firm waist and full inviting hips. I suddenly felt drawn to her and stood up. I knew she had seen me as she was starring back at me, as I stood staring back at her. She was a vision. And I was afraid she would vanish if I approached her. Yet, she seemed to be smiling, calling to me as I started walking towards her. I remember the stories my grandmother had told me of the enchantresses that lived in this forest, but I did not hesitate. I would give to her anything she wanted, anything she desired.

As I approached her I realized she was real. She seemed to be looking at me, daring me to come closer. All the stories of the enchantress my grandmother had told me flooded my mind with a warning. Yet, she was so beautiful, so inviting and I couldn't take my eyes from her. I was slowly losing control with each and every step that brought me closer to her. I knew I was lost as I felt the heat of my desire to be with her, starting to take control. It was a struggle not to run to this beautiful creature, with the golden hair, and angelic face.  As I came closer I couldn't help but notice her sensual breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. She seemed to be smiling, challenging me with everything that made her a beautiful, desirable woman. A woman this sensual, this beautiful, this desirable was surely the enchantress, and I was hers. As a bee is drawn to the flower, I was being drawn to this women.

Suddenly she reached down to pick something up. It was just then I noticed she was barefoot.  As she bent over to retrieve what she had dropped, the sun reflected off her spun gold hair. and radiated a golden brightness that was almost blinding.  Her dress shifted allowing me to see that her body enhanced her dress, rather than the dress enhancing her body. She would look beautiful in anything she wore.  The heat of my desire for her was beginning to consume me with it's fire. I felt the beginnings of ~

   

   Nov. 18, 1992,,,, a Short story I started to write, A friend asks if he could write from a male's point of view.

Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

The Cascade Adventures - Part 1

It's been four years since I've seen so much as an insignificant mountain creek. Been overburdened with comfort, now frantic with nature withdrawals, having to settle for photos found on Google Images: emerald pine trees, blue jays on limbs, moonlight cutting through forests, lakes the color of Windex-ed glass. It's much like drinking water that's been doused with Crystal Light... you may feel yourself becoming hydrated, when it reality it's only satiating your thirst temporarily. So you can imagine my joy when my best friend called me up to break the news.

"Monica, Brandon, Joel and I are gonna go backpacking. Care to join?"

the finality
of a cell hitting the floor -
shoe tying

Like a bunch of sardines packed in a can on wheels, we headed out to beautiful Cascade: the place where the Idahoan mountains aren't just paintings from afar, but close enough to taste. We weave our way through the spider-like dirt trails, as we each take turns changing songs on Joel's iPod. It's my go and I'm searching through the John Denver list, mourning the fact that there's over a hundred songs by him, and not one of them is Colorado Rocky Mountain High (the one song I could say fit my feelings to a tee). The menagerie of everyone's taste in music made for an interesting trip no doubt - even if Jonathan picked the worst possible jams simply for annoyances sake.

My first peculiar observation:

Humans have been making calendars for thousands of years (the first being more akin to cave drawings and stone tablets than paper). But as long as all that has been going on, the mountains don't care that August is expected to be sultry as November is expected to be chilly. Cause June took her first baby steps with a stubborn December mindset - a meandering way to say it was cold enough to freeze your nads off. The mounds of five feet snow made it all the more comical the fact I was wearing plaid shorts. Mother Nature wasn't going to be kind, I could tell.

like turtles
struggling to stand -
our packs full of crockery

It was breezy at first. We would practically glide down the mountain side, using our backpacks as a counter balance. The snowy counterpart to kangaroos, we were. The glistening flakes were thick enough to snowboard down - granted I never touched a snowboard, let alone ridden one. But after seeing this it gives me ideas...

Monica smiled for the camera, as I fumbled for my iPhone, a smile that didn't even require the forcible Say Cheese! nonsense. It wasn't waiting for the camera flash, but the other way around. Now you might be calling that rather pathetic, but I brought my iPhone along simply for the function of capturing memories. Angry Birds just don't compare to the real ones, sweet with lilting songs.

My second peculiar observation:

Google Images is an absolute horrid plagiarist; some beauty just can't be encapsulated despite all our advances in high-def technology.

The downward slope finally leveled out a bit, if only for a few minutes. Truth be told the path never stopped declining - some routes were simply more apparent than others. Our group of five walked single file through the trees, all basing our faith that Joel (a person who has been to the site once when the trail WASN'T covered in snow) would lead us in the right direction. And here's another interesting fact; this was no official trail, but a hike through the purest of adventures, unpredictable and unreliable.

crushing pine needles
with un-gloved fingers -
roaring rivers beneath the snow

The first time my whole leg collapsed into the fragile surface of the snow made me realize just how far above the dirt I was walking. I'd ask Brandon for assistance with a beet red blush on my cheeks - I blamed it on my fair skin falling victim to the sunny day. From then out I tiptoed with exaggerated caution, my heavy pack helping me just as much as it was hindering me. For even a foot drop had to be taken with a grain of salt. Everyone had to adjust to the added weight (except for Monica, with her light load of a sleeping bag, nothing else). I'd very ungracefully glide through twigs and pesky low branches, oblivious of my bare legs. In all honesty the cold didn't get to me, just the scratches of neighboring trees is where my concerns lied. At anytime I could have stopped the whole gang, beaming, "Wait a spell and let me put on some pants for crying out loud". Course that never happened, my clothes were in the bottom of my pack, and I was no where near desperate enough for monkeying around with that sorry mess.

slick slates
slanting down the cliff edge -
helping hands

Joel, with his redneck stubble, beams up at me, "Every hiking trip needs a little bit of adventure, don't rush it by any means!". That's the last thing on my mind - the first is whether or not that rock I'm about to put my weight on is as stable as she looks. It's a very roundabout route, and as questionable as it is, it's safer by a long shot than the first path we took - call it a 103 degree wall.



NOTE: Still working on writing out the rest of my trip to Cascade. It was my first backpacking trip and even though we only stayed one night, the trip is full of wonderful memories.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

Cascade Adventures --- Pt 1

It's been four years since I've seen so much as an insignificant mountain creek. I've been overburdened with comfort, now frantic with nature withdrawals and having to settle for photos found on Google Images: emerald pine trees, blue jays on limbs, moonlight cutting through forests, lakes the color of Windexed glass. It's much like drinking water that's been doused with Crystal Light; you feel yourself becoming hydrated, when in reality it's only satiating your thirst temporarily. So you can imagine my joy when my best friend called me up to break the news:

"Monica, Brandon, Joel and I are gonna go backpacking. Care to join?"

the finality
of a cell hitting the floor -
shoe tying

Like a bunch of sardines packed in a can on wheels, we headed out to beautiful Cascade: the place where the Idahoan mountains aren't just paintings from afar, but close enough to taste. We weave our way through the spiderweb of dirt trails, as we each take turns changing songs on Joel's iPod. It's my go and I'm searching through the John Denver list, mourning the fact that there's over a hundred songs by him, and not one of them is Colorado Rocky Mountain High (the one song I could say fit my feelings to a tee). The menagerie of everyone's taste in music made for an interesting trip no doubt - even if Jonathan picked the worst possible jams simply for annoyances sake.

My first peculiar observation:

Humans have been making calendars for thousands of years - the first being more akin to cave drawings and stone tablets than paper - but as long as all that has been going on, the mountains don't care that August is expected to be sultry or that November is expected to be chilly. Because June was taking her first baby steps with a stubborn December mindset - a meandering way to say it was cold enough to freeze your nads off. The five foot mounds of snow made it all the more comical the fact I was wearing plaid shorts. Mother Nature wasn't going to be kind, I could tell.

like turtles
struggling to stand -
our packs full of crockery

It was breezy at first. We would practically glide down the mountain side, using our backpacks as a counter balance. The snowy counterpart to kangaroos, we were. The glistening flakes were thick enough to snowboard down - granted I never touched a snowboard, let alone ridden one. But after seeing this it gives me ideas ...

Monica smiled for the camera as I fumbled for my iPhone, a smile that didn't even require the forcible Say Cheese! nonsense. It wasn't waiting for the camera flash, but the other way around. Now you might be calling that rather pathetic, but I brought my iPhone along simply for the function of capturing memories. Angry Birds just don't compare to the real ones, sweet with lilting songs.

My second peculiar observation:

Google Images is an absolute horrid plagiarist; some beauty just can't be encapsulated despite all our advances in high-def technology.

The downward slope finally leveled out a bit, if only for a few minutes. Truth be told, the path never stopped declining - some routes were simply more apparent than others. Our group of five walked single file through the trees, all basing our faith that Joel (a person who has been to the site once when the trail WASN'T covered in snow) would lead us in the right direction. And here's another interesting fact: this was no official trail, but a hike through the purest of adventures, unpredictable and unreliable.

 crushing pine needles
with un-gloved fingers -
rivers beneath the snow

The first time my whole leg collapsed into the fragile surface of the snow made me realize just how far above the dirt I was walking. I'd ask Brandon for assistance with a beet red blush on my cheeks - I blamed it on my fair skin falling victim to the sunny day. From then on out I tiptoed with exaggerated caution, my heavy pack helping me just as much as it was hindering me, for even a foot drop had to be taken with a grain of salt. Everyone had to adjust to the added weight (except for Monica, with her light load of a sleeping bag and nothing else). I'd very ungracefully glide through twigs and pesky low branches, oblivious to my bare legs. In all honesty the cold didn't get to me, just the scratches of neighboring trees is where my concerns lied. At anytime I could have stopped the whole gang, beaming: "Wait a spell and let me put on some pants for crying out loud!" Of course that never happened. My clothes were in the bottom of my pack, and I was nowhere near desperate enough to monkey around with that sorry mess.

slick slates
slanting down the cliff edge -
helping hands

Joel, with his redneck stubble, beams up at me: "Every hiking trip needs a little bit of adventure, don't rush it by any means!" That's the last thing on my mind - the first is whether or not that rock I'm about to put my weight on is as stable as she looks. It's a very roundabout route, and as questionable as it is, it's safer by a long shot than the first path we took - call it a 103 degree wall.



NOTE: Continued in Part 2 ...

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by White Wolf | Details |

The Mountain of Knowledge:

In my opinion, one goal in life is to reach the apex of the mountain of knowledge.
But we all seem to be in a rush to attain this, and all following the same path that has been laid down for centuries. But we must also remember that life is more about the journey than it is the destination. You may be saying to yourself "but there are many paths that go up this mountain." And you are right in thinking so, but generally once one has chosen a path that is the one they stick to.

 So let's imagine two people at the beginning of one of these paths, one says to the other, "I'll see you up the top then some day shall I?" So one heads off on a path trekking his way up, while the other who remains silent wanders off into the bushes on the side. Years and years pass by until the one who chose the path finally reaches the apex of this enormous mountain. While waiting for his silent friend he decides to build a hut to keep the wind and rain off him. Eventually settling down and begins to build a cabin. 

Now, many more years later, he sees a figure approaching his settlement. It is the silent one. Overjoyed in finally seeing his friend he begins boasting how he had beaten his friend to the top and so long ago, and proudly showing off his cabin of labour. The silent one then spoke, "I have dwelled in caves in this mountain you have built upon, I have learned about every tree and beast and bird that also share this mountain, and now I can tell you, my friend, I am this mountain you have stayed upon," then added, "I suggest you go back down your path and start again, for you and your cabin are not welcome here." The cabin builder looking astonished replied, "why not?" The silent one responded, "no man has the right to build upon me, they may use their paths but one day they too shall be reclaimed and overgrown." So the cabin builder says, "well then, I guess I'll see you sometime down the bottom my friend?"

 The silent one replies, "I wouldn't hold your breath, my friend, like I said, I am the mountain now, and my place is living within it, and venturing around and around again." The cabin builder having lived there for so long now forgot even which path he took up, and asked the silent one, "which way do you suggest I go?" Then the silent one says, "makes no difference, you will get lost whichever path you choose, for they have all changed since you arrived, but if you are not in a hurry why not come venture with me?" "I can show you many wondrous places that exist here on this mountain."

 Just then a Merlin hawk lands on the silent ones left shoulder startling the cabin builder, who then says, "and who is this?" "SHE is a friend of mine and has a nest not far from here to the north," the silent one replies, then adds, "you would know this if you weren't in such a hurry to reach the top." The cabin builder looked lost, and could not choose what to do. The silent one sensed this and said, "You may stay here for twelve more moons, but then you must decide, this hawk when you see her next will let you know of my return for your decision." Upon saying that the silent one turned his back and walked off into the thick of the mountain on the other side of his arrival. After eleven moons had past and close to the twelfth sure enough he saw the hawk high up in the sky above. And thought to himself, "I know not this mountain in which I live upon and have no chance of survival on my own, no matter which path I choose for my descent." 

So he had decided he would take the risk and venture off with the silent one upon his return. Right on the twelfth moon, sure enough, the silent one returns and says, "what is your decision?" "I shall venture off with you into the wilderness," the cabin builder says nervously. The silent one then in a stern voice replies, "fine, but know this, if you come with me you must keep your mouth shut and never say a word unless I speak first." The cabin builder agrees to these terms and nods his head already obeying. So off they went this time in another direction entirely. One year had past and the silent one thought to himself, "I wonder how long he can keep this up." Another year past and still not an utterance. The cabin builder now was learning well how to survive from his friend, and one morning while coming out of the cave he had slept in saw a stranger walking upon a path nearby, but said nothing. But then the stranger had noticed him and yelled out, "Hey, can you tell me if this is the way to the top of the mountain?" The cabin builder replied, "yes, you are on the right path." Just then realizing he too knew the mountain well, then behind him from the cave yelled another voice, "I thought I had told you to be silent."

Copyright © White Wolf | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Isaiah Zerbst | Details |

Highland Lassie

Inspired by the painting "Highland Lassie" (1871) by Thomas Faed.

(Verse One; In introduction to Cailin)
Walkin' on the highways, searchin' down the byways,
Tromps a lonely figure on the Highland roads;
Peerin' from the Highdown, breezin' through the lake town,
Askin' of a question erry where he goes:
(Chorus; Cailin, followed by some villagefolk)
And it's, "Marry, gather 'round! for she hasna' yet been found;
I come lookin' for the truest lass, as only one can be:
I've a letter do deliver; as you see, it says to give 'er
To the fairest Highland lassie from Loch Leven to the sea."
"Here's a lass," they proudly say, "fair as June and sweet as May,
And it's sure that she's the fairest in the Highland mountains steep:
Through the heather you may go, climb the mountains capped with snow,
But you'll never find a better lass on which your eyes to peep."

(Verse Two; Cailin's thoughts)
Some of them were pouty, others even dowdy;
"These," he thought, "would never do in fifteen years:
Beauty on the outside, nothin' on the inside,
Leaves a girl with nothin' when it fades to tears."
(Chorus; Cailin's continuing journey)
Trav'lin' all around, for she hasna' yet been found;
He's come lookin' for the truest lass, as only one can be:
With a letter do deliver; as you see, it says to give 'er
To the fairest Highland lassie from Loch Leven to the sea." 
"Here's a lass," they proudly say, "fair as June and sweet as May,"
But you canna' tell the fairest one except you see them all:
And the lassies sweetly smile, for this stranger to beguile,
As 'e treads throughout the Highlands from the winter to the fall.

(Verse Three; Cailin's travels and troubles)
From the banks of Lomon', up to Durness roamin',
How's a wight to judge betwixt a thousand score?
Steps were waxing weary, days were growing dreary,
'Till 'e saw a lass 'e hadna' met before.
(Chorus; Cailin, to a lass called Ellsie and her villagefolk)
And it's, "Marry, gather 'round, for the lassie here is found!
I 'ave searched and found the truest lass, as only one can be:
Here the letter I deliver; as you see, it says to give 'er
To the fairest Highland lassie from Loch Leven to the sea. 
"Here's a lass," I proudly say, "fair as June and sweet as May,
And it's sure that she's the fairest in the Highland mountains steep:
Through the heather you may go, climb the mountains capped with snow,
But you'll never find a better lass on which your eyes to peep."

(Verse Four; Ellsie's villagefolk reply in confusion)
Then they said, "Oh, please, Sir, don't you taunt and tease 'er,
Caint you tell she's plainer e'en than Skye down dell?
Caint you tell you've pained 'er? don't do that again, Sir,
Lest you 'ave a reason, and if so, pray tell."
(Chorus; Cailin's reply, followed by Ellsie reading the letter)
"O'er the braes an' through the moor, I 'ave trode my walkers sore,
All to find the truest lassie in the Highlands boggy peat;
And the truest lass is fair, for the true shall never wear,
So I say that here's the truest, fairest lass I've chanced to meet."
Then she opened up the scroll, and she read it to the full,
And for those who chance to wonder, I shall quote you what she read:
"When the fairest lass I find, if our wishes are aligned,
I should wish to know thee better, lass, and then, perhaps, to wed."

(Verse Five; Ellsie's reply to the letter)
Then she said, "Oh, come, Sir; don't be sad or glum, Sir;
Meet my father, mother, and my sisters small:
Soon the bells were ringin', people gladly singin'
"Here's the lad who worked to find the best of all."
(Chorus, which Ellsie's villagefolk sing at the wedding)
"O'er the braes an' through the moor, 'e 'as trode 'is walkers sore,
All to find the truest lassie in the Highlands boggy peat;
And the truest lass is fair, for the true shall never wear,
So I say that here's the truest, fairest lass I've chanced to meet. 
"Here's a lass," we proudly say, "fair as June and sweet as May,
And it's sure that she's the fairest in the Highland mountains steep:
Through the heather you may go, climb the mountains capped with snow,
But you'll never find a better lass on which your eyes to peep."



Note: the verses are written using trochaic feet, meaning that they begin with a stressed syllable, followed by an unstressed, and so on repeatedly. The fifth foot (syllables nine and ten) in the second and fourth lines of the verses is a spondee, meaning two stressed syllables in one foot. I mention this for ease in correct reading. An example of this same device is "Since the Savior Found Me" by Edgar J. Haskins, (in last line of verses and refrain).

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Bageri Hamidi | Details |

A MESSAGE TO EINSTEIN

A MESSAGE TO EINSTEIN
Originally Composed in Persian Language by:
M. H. Shahryar (1904- 1988)
Translated into English by:
 Abdullah Bageri Hamidi

Einstein! An unspecified greeting! Well, pardon;
Running in the twilight of moonlight, fair;
With the curl of the wavering hair,
Here comes the Breeze of the East
Having armful bunches of daffodils and tuberoses
Tokens of flora that blossom in Shiraz, in Sa'di's garden
Here comes the Breeze, flying
Over the wrinkled seas and floating forests 
To knock on the palace gate of the King of Mathematics
In this auspicious morning!

Within the palace of opulence, over the throne of thought
Lift your head from the huddled up position
And open the gate to this intruder, untimely come;
Let it, with its sleek hands, stroke gently
The lined forehead of your elevated thoughts;
Let it comb gently your silky ideas!

Carrying a cup of wine from the jar of Hafiz and Khayyam,
And according to the custom of the dervishes, 
And following the Breeze, kneels down
The genius of the Eastern poetry
To kiss the hand of the Sage of the western science!

Hail Eintstein! Well done!
You swept over the vacuum swiftly;
Time was honored with eternity, location with oblivion;
Eternal life, so far unknown to man, was found:
Paradise of the elevated souls it is, religion claimed.
You reconciled religion and science together!

 
Einstein, more power to your elbows!
You proved mass and body to be but energy;
Atom, in fission reaction, turns into a particle in the upper world.
In the scrutiny of the mystics and Sufism
Our world is but a bubble on the water.
Me, too, an uneducated infant in the school of Love,
Regard the objective world as a wave of the soul:
No nobilty resides in the matter!

Hail, Einstein! Yet what a great pity!
Being inspired by your discoveries,
The enemies are constructing bombs!
Einstein, the dragon of war …!
The hell will open up its jaws.
The wrold's life container will spill out!
Love and passion will flee from nature, sulking.
No, what do I say?
Can love and loyalty be condemned to extinction?
Will Heaven fail the prayers of the night vigils?
Will no mother heartily wail for her child?

I am being choked by tears, Einstein
Help me, I beg.
Use your genius to heal the human pains,
Cause these cruel marauders to yield for peace;
Great Master!
Turn the races, religions, nationalities into oneness;
Establish human conscience as the capital city for the world;
Regard nothing superior in the world, but science and piety.
 
Einstein, have you ever heard the name 'IRAN, the Ruined'?
O Sage! Recall with respect the cradle land of Ave Cina
Talk to this savage civilization of our reverence.

 Einstein, take one further step over the world of Reason
Find Moses, Jesus and Mohammad together.
Use the key of Love to unlock this obscure riddle 
And undo this closed old gate through the science.

Einstein! Go beyond, you can afford
To find the Lord

Copyright © Bageri Hamidi | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Shadow Hamilton | Details |

Biting Cold

It was a freezing night in Alaska, the temperature had 
dropped to well below zero, fifteen below with a driving 
wind that shrieked and laughed as it sped viciously past
causing lashing snow flakes to fall fast and furiously.   

Up in the high mountains the man shook his head
as he stoked up the fire causing the flames to dance
creating shadows on the sod hut's walls. They seemed
to move with a life of their own. Forming first a pattern
a fleeting glimpse of a unicorn or so he thought. He needed 
the storm to pass by so he could check out his many traps.

He was working two lines this winter for pine martin with
the odd trap for Lynx and wolverine who were a bane
always robbing his traps of his fur. He also had traps
deep in the river by the beaver's dams, the price of their
fur was sky high this year. He needed to hunt for more
meat too as his freezer was nearly empty and it would
be a long two months before the thaw and he could get 
supplies flown in. Turning in he slept well waking to find
the storm was tailing off, quickly he got things ready.

Daylight was a brief five hours this time of year and  
one was already gone. He worked the line nearest to 
his hut first gathering up the furs and resetting the traps.
It was so tranquil now, the spruces stretched up high
seeming to touch the sky shedding the odd pile of snow
from laden branches that drooped with the weight.

Picking up some deer tracks that were fresh he followed.
Soon spotting some elk high up on the next ridge he
climbed around to get into position. He lined up his
sights on a healthy male and took a clean shot
dropping it in its tracks. Quickly he field dressed it
taking the hide and meat leaving the rest for the
various predators that were already gathering.

At least it was mainly downhill to what he called
home. Striding on as darkness started to fall
he soon was home and now the work began.
He have several furs to skin, stretch and pin
out to dry, others that now needed more
work, scraping carefully he removed and smoothed
the hides and hung them on frames in his smoke room
to colour and cure. Then he had his dogs to feed before
he himself could also eat. It had been a long hard day.

He now had a moment to reflect and gave thanks to
the elk who had died so he and his dogs could eat.
This would be his life for the next few weeks, then he 
would take his furs to town to sell. He would be glad to 
see his family again it would be nearly five months
since he was last home and over three since he had spoken 
to another soul. Yet he would not give up this way of life.

The last thing he did before he flew out was to dismantle
his sod hut and burn the remains on the iced up river
removing all signs that he had been here. Next winter he 
would build another in a different place and life would go on.

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by John Hamilton | Details |

Proof of human existence

Proof of human existence

When you see animal tracks

you know what kind of animal has been there

Right?

their existence is proved by the mark that they 
leave behind

scientists can prove certain species existed by

examining the fossil record 

and seeing what has been left behind

Right?

Humans are the highest form of life here on earth

Right?

So what is the proof of our existence?

What do we leave behind 
as proof that we existed?

What is the identifying mark 
of humans wherever we go?

adventurers, explorers, 

brave souls 

go where no human

has ever gone

How do we know they were there?

they've left their mark

They conquer Everest 
reach the peak and exclaim 

I am here, I made it,

I conquered Everest...
 
then they leave their mark

the definitive proof of their existence

They've conquered space

the final frontier

what an amazing accomplishment!

Right?

Humans were there!

how do we know?

they've left their mark

they've marked their territory

like the animals

but we are superior

Right?

Pristine oceans

so amazing 

and yet humans have left their mark

there too...

the most distant and remote

places on earth have been touched

by humans as well...

the north pole

antartica

the south pole

So what is the proof of human existence?

What is the distinctive mark?

What is the evidence that we exist

how do mark our territory?

Well,

on  top of Everest 

there is an accumulating

ever growing

pile of

garbage...

trash... 

rubbish

however you want to describe it

that is our distinctive mark! 

discarded oxygen tanks etc

how nice!

proof of our superior existence?

hardly,

the oceans...

bodies of water

carrying along

plastic bottles that

used to carry water,

how intelligent we are

right?

Scientist when launching rockets

and supplies to outer space

need to factor in the orbiting

space garbage left behind

from previous visits

we are so amazing!

Right?

What a legacy 

we are leaving behind 

as proof of our existence.

If you hired someone to

clean and maintain your property

left them in charge

and years later came back

to check on the status

and condition and found it 

in disrepair with 

garbage everywhere

what would you do?


reward the caretaker?

Hardly!

What should our Maker and the

Creator of the earth

and the universe do 

when he comes to inspect

what we have done to our inheritance?


John Derek Hamilton
March 27,2016





Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by JW Earnings | Details |

Fantastic Flight - Chapter 4 - In the Long Run

*chorus*

The mountain winds are howling its stormy resentment
The snow glitters on the triumphant mountains…
I’ve tried to conceal these feelings of discontent
My eyes are spraying with tears of sorrow – weep no more, sad fountains
Don’t push me to the limits – I breathe in and out
I let go of my anxiety and trade it with prosperity– 
I’m one with the passionate, frozen desires in my heart 
I’m strong like Sampson in the bible – 
Let the light of day unfreeze my heart’s agony and avarice
I don’t want to believe in those silly allegories…
Am I your living sacrifice?
My heart is as cold as ice…I need to take His advice!
I have faced reality alone before
Is this real or is this a myth? There’s more land to explore!

~Last Verse~ 
Accidents happen – I keep saying that in my mind like a broken record
But, it ruefully discards it – I’m lost instead of found
I can’t afford losing you – you were my heart’s melodic tune and you made me taste accord!
I’m homeward bound…my mind’s spinnin’ round and round
Fantastic flight – be my target tonight and let me take wing and overcome this plight!
Let me take wing and let me unveil God’s light! Everything’s gonna be alright!
The past is behind me – bury it…don’t dig it up! Let it go for the time being and I want to your eyes, bliss-sprinkled behind those spectacular spectacles!
The past will not bring me down to ruins or in poverty – let me get down on my knees and pray – let me be for a while and I’ll be a believer of your wonder-filled miracles! 
Fantastic flight – you make me high like a child’s beloved kite 
Fantastic flight of dazzling delight – don’t let me drift away from the light of His truth…I’m reaching a divine height…I’m flying with all of my remaining might!
You’re hidden from the surface overhead…you’re way above me!
I’m not the sparkling sea as you can possibly see…you’re as elegant as can be! 

*BRIDGE* Take away the grief…trade me with everlasting relief
The sin course inside of me – it becomes serpentine…
Take me away to your dwelling place…you are beyond belief!
You’re as bittersweet and blissful as the finest of wine
I’m driving on another lane...
It’s the abyss that I have tried to avoid before
Don’t let me be driven insane…
You’re the one I’ve always wanted – let’s not wage war 
Let’s not wage war anymore!
The sin weighs me down like cruel gravity…
I feel the sense that I’m captivity-bound….I’m grounded for life…Help me!
Help me, please? I can’t handle feeling this pity!
I have a feeling things will eventually work out in the long run – I want you to be brave & free!

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by louise nelson | Details |

MEETING GOD ON THE MOUNTAIN

a Pastor isn't only defined by his spiritual resolve
he's also shaped by his flock and how they've spiritually evolved
for a church to be prosperous, powerful and prophetic in life
they need to be faithful, persistent and courageous in Christ
for us to be like Jesus to be excellent in God's sight
we need to eradicate what's in us that diminishes His light
to present ourselves as the best witnesses that we can
to continuously operate by His righteous plans
to ever be before God seeking His divine intentions
to living our lives according to His Great Commission
to remove all the chaos, the hurt and the pain
to replace it with clarity, happiness and peace in His name
to eliminate the killing, the loathing and the hell
to encourage kindness, love and holiness in us to now dwell
to transfer that jeer into jubilation
to substitue that sin with Godly salvation
no longer arrogant but one who adores
to kick out the gossip and let the gospel in the door
to take out the cussing and take up the cross
no longer to worry but to worship our Heavenly Boss
to extinguish that judgemental behavior
and embrace Jesus as your personal Savior

in order to meet God on the mountains in life you face
you can't be acting on fear you need to be operating on faith
to look for the silver linings and not anticipate the storms
no longer to act like a hostage too scared to move on
Elijah was a man of God who possessed tremendous belief
until a situation arose that made him run away in grief
no longer trusting in God to have his back
now hiding in a cave from Jezebel's coming attack
he didn't see the grace of God in the midst of the storm
as he could have been killed at first instead of just being warned
an angel then came to him in the wilderness with provisions
some food and drink to strenghten him for his coming mission

whenever you're down and out God will find a way
to lift you up and replenish you in anyway
God then said to him, "what are you doing here?"
hiding in this dark cave in utter despair
we need to come out of the caves in life where we tend to dwell
caves of addictions, abusiveness, dead-end jobs and total hell
to stop hiding from life in those dark caves
to remember the faith and love that to us God gave
meeting God on the mountain where He wants us to be
meeting God on the mountains now claiming the victory

I'm so glad I serve a God who will look high and look low
to find me and take me where I need to go
no longer hiding in those dark caves of life
now on the mountain top with my Savior the Lord Christ

Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2009

Long Poems