Long Mysteries Poems
Long Mysteries Poems. Below are the most popular long Mysteries by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mysteries poems by poem length and keyword.
Love is one of those beautiful mysteries of life…we can’t control it…we can’t obtain it…and so…like most of life’s other beautiful mysteries…we look to nature to explain it.
Love is like the wind…it appears suddenly…out of the blue…
you don’t go looking for it…it finds its way to you.
There are times when the winds of love are gentle…you close your eyes and sway…other times they are strong enough to carry you away.
Like a cool breeze on a summer day that you’re happy to befriend…
once you’ve felt the winds of love…you don’t want them to end.
Alas, we do not control our love…anymore than we control a windy day…
for just as we know not when love will arrive…we know not when it will pass away.
It is only when love is taken from us…when the wind becomes a thief…
we realize its preciousness…and the price we pay…is grief.
But since so much joy rides on the winds of love…every moment of every day…
our eventual sorrow…our inevitable grief…is a price we are willing to pay.
For where would this poem be without the very wind it is speaking of…
and where would our lives be without the joy and happiness of love?
Beyond the tomorrows
Bellows not seen
Awakening thoughts
Sunrise glistens amongst the Dew
Haze shadows
Mist through the air
Southern Draws
Understanding yet to see
Moments turning into seconds
Beckons calls from the distance
Assumptions Occur
Mysteries of the skies
The thought of assurance
Reflections from the Bayou
The you
Life controlled beyond one’s own
One Day has passed
Tomorrow’s expectations
Chosen breed
A need
Intervention in permission to proceed
The know will soon come
Understanding will establish
Inner voice whispers
A speak out with a speak on
Destined for greatness
Watch and see.
What secrets of the Muse's rhyme,
skirt on the edge of our perception?
What fate can be known by metric time,
or prophecy by taut inspection?
The path she offers invites echoes,
of lives half-lived and dreams half-dreamt,
of pasts that form our tomorrows,
that few aspire beyond attempt.
Parnassus chooses whom so it will.
To the fated, it shares its mysteries,
but one must choose its bitter pill,
to resolve the trajectories.
The obscure rhythms of the poet's soul,
splashed against a domed, cryptic sky,
fulfill a cosmic, unique role,
that only seers behold with an inward eye.
Form:
With peace a distant memory
and love so far removed
I fear I must retreat inside
the sanctum of my tomb
As tortured voices call to me
I ponder at the door
Shall I release my hold on life
of this I must implore
Since forgiveness seems so silent
and my sorrows seem so loud
My thoughts escape detection as
I face the maddening crowd
But hope remains my company
as darkness turns from light
All my dreams have disappeared
like birds thats taken flight
I marvel at the mysteries
which shadows ushered in
The halls of pain within my Hell
have started once again
I scream surrender in my soul
with nothing left to prove
With peace a distant memory
and love so far removed
Seeds are sown; seeds will grow
into a weed, into a rose
millennium passes into black holes
the sand will turn into glass
bones into dust-flesh into ash
eventually everything
blows back to the path back home.
There're no grand mysteries
only infinite, undiscovered truths
into the virgin soil of purity-[absolute]
miracles suckle from gravity's root.
The ego often forsakes the creator God
careens into the blackness -alone
the sirens howl from the abyss
when angels bow to laws unknown.
Only when it is lost- only when it slips
does the ego bend a knee and cry for home.
Seeds are sown; seeds grow
into a weed- into a rose
everything comes into its own being
the destiny of flesh is the soul's release
all will boomerang back home-infinity.
“The Sophia Treasure”
The world
turned inside out
And out you came
like a Sophia treasure
sparkling wet and shiny
held in arms pliable
mother of the universe
powerfully cradled
heart piercing
and weaponised
glistening victory
twinned
in reflections
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“The Mysteries Remain”(H.D.)
The mysteries remain,
I keep the same
cycle of seed-time
and of sun and rain;
Demeter in the grass,
I multiply,
renew and bless
Bacchus in the vine;
I hold the law,
I keep the mysteries true,
the first of these
to name the living, dead;
I am the wine and bread.
I keep the law,
I hold the mysteries true,
I am the vine,
the branches, you
and you.
New plane called PLANET GHETTO
Scientist didn’t expect and know nothing about
Telescopes had no effect in sighting
Mars said, “Don’t look here”
The Milky Way responded, “Don’t even come our way”
The Moon stated, “Don’t even think about it”
What do these planets know about Planet Ghetto that we don’t
I certainly won’t perpetuate
A planet that became a create
Planet Ghetto appeared out of nowhere in space
Not much to say
Don’t bring any Earth waste
Being new to the Solar System
In fact, all the planets are protesting that they don’t share the solar system with anyone
NASA says beware with care, and they must study more for sure
Planets have made history with stories
There are still some mysteries
Planet Ghetto certainly is a surprise
No one had any idea nor realize
Unknown element in the principle
Planet Ghetto distance far
You won’t even find any car
Don’t expect to look like Earth
Planet Ghetto being a new birth
No comparison to Earth.
In the twilight valleys where shadows weave endless tapestries,
Where the breath of dusk embroiders the horizon in shades of evening,
A hermit dreams, his window an eternal portal flung wide open,
To skies where eternity whispers secrets to the gathered stars.
He is the sole architect of the divine murmur,
Casting his heart as a sacred manuscript upon the wings of the wind,
His solitude, an overflowing chalice of elegy and ancient hymns,
Breathing life into the yawning void, preventing the collapse into suffocation.
Mountains bow in reverence to his silent reveries,
While forests etch their ancient tales into the tapestry of his thoughts,
Cascades of time pour forth in silvered streams,
Reflecting the profound melancholy coursing through the eternal poet.
He speaks the language of distant stars and forgotten rivers,
Each word forming galaxies, each sentence an ocean,
Transforming the mundane into ethereal shades of sublimity,
Infusing the ordinary with the haunting echoes of infinity.
The world, a fragile latticework of sighs and whispered secrets,
Would disintegrate into dust, deprived of his solitary songs of solace,
For he, with the poet’s quill, sanctifies every breath of existence,
Imbuing dawn’s light and the twilight’s tender kiss with poetry’s grace.
In his sanctuary, where the cosmos extends a delicate breath,
Blooms a garden of celestial rhymes, infinite in their beauty,
Every leaf inscribed with verses, each blossom a timeless sonnet,
Softly voicing the profound mysteries of the beyond.
Thus the hermit, sentinel of the arcane horizon,
With his window open, offers us a fleeting vision,
A glimpse of sacred transcendence within the fabric of reality,
Saving the world from the abyss of insignificance with the brushstroke of the divine.
Written: January 08, 2024 For Tania Kitchin Contest
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A storm swirls, hurling hail and snow,
In the bosom of winter, icy storms grow.
A scene that is both anarchic and grand,
A snowstorm, a shunned marvel of the land.
A whirling maelstrom is a whimsical sight,
Whispered mysteries haunt the cold night.
By merging their loads, icy crystals collide,
Winter chorus is earth-crowning pride.
Whispers of wind nurture a peculiar tune,
Melodic strains cross-changing boon.
Glazing crystals and crumbles sway,
An enthralling outlay winter waltz display.
I carry my heart with me
to the length and breadth of the galaxy
I carry my heart with me to be wherever it wants to be
There are many holes in it and each one represents the bliss
That never survive and a soul that lost its pride
Love turns to pain and joy turn to shame.
I throw a pebble in the sea to remind me
how deep my heart might be
the pebble I throw symbolize the depth of my soul
and the stories that are still not told
you will never find anything on dry land
you must go where the universe stand
the stone henge in England is not
just a monument its location is a testament
There are many places that I’d rather be
Than to lie here crying over thee
Stretch out the mat on the floor and close the door
And face the truth within thee
I will sing a silent song for you
While your heart is languishing at sea
Its body was not found and so the
Mysteries have the people bound
A fragrant rose is floating in the sea
carrying a gracious message for thee.
Can you feel the ripples in my heart?
I have been counting the day since it starts
The sky is overcast and the sun is buried in the dark
I’ve got to move the boulder out of the way lest
My spirit goes astray
I carry the ripples of my heart with me
waiting for the universe to set it free
so take the guitar along with thee
to compose a song as the ripples
of the heart spreads across the sea.