Long Mystically Poems
Long Mystically Poems. Below are the most popular long Mystically by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mystically poems by poem length and keyword.
The life of every man is infinite, a canvas stretched beyond the horizons,
A silent theater where the mysteries of the restless being are played without words,
Where thoughts are ships that float on seas of untraveled constellations,
The depths of the soul – endless oceans that embrace the elusive skies.
Thus, each moment becomes a ritual in the temple of ancient time,
With long verses written by the unseen hands of destiny, incessantly,
Breaths quiver like leaves under the breath of primal winds,
Scattered we are, seeds of the night, germinating secretly in fields of existence.
From beneath the cloak of night, the moon carves the filigree of boundless memory,
We are omnipresent in the whisper stretching from one corner to another of the infinite,
Hidden in the untamed aura of the spheres, we chant mystically and taciturn,
Wings of light that cleave the twilight, search for the roots of the lost sky.
In thickets of enigmatic dreams, we wander through the universal labyrinth,
Worlds are born and die within us, with every breath that breaks the infinite stillness,
Lives meander through us like rivers merging with the dark sea,
In eternal struggle with the mist, unseen truths are woven into the stars that watch over us.
We spend our days gathering echoes of a magic that slips between moments,
Beneath the lofty vault, our soul traverses the tangible frontiers of matter,
In seraphic harmony, we are spirals in dance, torches burning in the sanctuary of silence,
Within ourselves, we find the solemn echo of the heavenly song, the prelude of a divine symphony.
The spheres know our names, within them, destinies are stars pulsing in harmony,
We weave incessantly, as heirs of the mystery, the dark cloak of starry nights,
Spirits bound by the invisible thread of hope that reveals itself in perpetual dream,
A living tableau, painted with sunbeams woven into the heart of the breathing universe.
There are so many sides of a wolf never seen
Because of his teeth his reputation tends to be mean
He likes meaty dishes, served up by his wife
He has a howl that will shorten your life
He is also empathetic and kind to his wife and his kits
And he stays forever faithful, loves his family to bits.
He might look ferocious, but he is mystically sweet.
He will allow you to live when you see his heart beat.
The wolf is a loner thus the moniker lone wolf, right?
He is nocturnally alive and eager, prowling most of the night.
If you do not bother his wife or his litter of kits
He will leave you alone, and not chew you to bits.
Oh Goddess Moon, you induce painters to paint,
the crazed to rave and poets to praise your grace.
How many love affairs have you helped to consummate?
With a woman’s many wiles, you change your shape.
How you beguile, yet never do you vacillate.
You stay your course and never stray!
Like yin to yang, you are to sun a cool and pallid pool,
changing, yet constant in your rule
as you steadfastly move from New to Quarter To Gibbous to Full,
and then you wane . . .
till in Crescent Balsamic you reign -
there to shortly contemplate the wisdom you have gained.
Your fortnight ended, you journey back again.
We all beneath you are an ocean mystically pulled,
heirs to the gifts you weave at the time we are born.
Like our predecessors who learned to heed
your rhythmic sounds as they planted seed,
it would behoove us, with our vast technology,
to stop and study the sky, your teachings there to see!
New WholeSum Yearly Information
Articulation
Elocutions
Evolutions
Ecolution
Eartholution
Ecologics
Earth ReGenerate Revolution
Earth Health Enculturing Solution
EarthBound Rivival Articulations
Translation
Transliteration
Transformation
Transubstantiation
Transmutation
MultiCultural TransFiguration
PolyCultural
PolyMorphic
PolyPathic
PolyMathic
PolyPhonic
PolyParadigmatic PolyVagal Therapeutic Outcomes
PolyCulturally Landscaped OrthoPraxis
BeLoved PolyCultural Communicants
BiCameral Articulators of Time's Zero-Centric BiLaterality
of EgoYangAuthentic AND EcoYintegral Balance
of EarthTribe's RNA/DNA PolyGenitors
looking through transcendent Sunlight
feeling immanently warm Earthpowers
Reviving polyvagal health-wealth
(0)Mega Tipping Points
toward polypathic co-redemption
InterReligiously invoking
panentheistic paradigms
mystically whispered
mysteriously thriving
transformative transliterations.
She will rise from the water, in the midday afternoon
Lightly vaulting from darkness and a bright diamond throne
Splashing forth as a fountain, spilling colors of gold
Wearing combs made of seashells, from deep in the cold
She has no tongue, she has no tears
She had no clothes, will mystically appear
No need for air, her hair is fair
Her eyes are clear of unfound love
She is a siren, she is an angel, she is a myth, for many seasons
Is she real, or apparition…, do we see her for a reason?
A stretched out long tail, on bed of kelp-strewn sand
Soaking up the sun rays, to dry golden strands
She bewitches with amusement
While the darting fish play games
She is not just illusion, has no given name
She's a vision from the past, speaks the language of forgetting
Her repertoire of movement, and exquisite, agile form
A creature bathed in mystery, wears pearls of wet adorn
Ever mindful of the music, human splashing rage of oars
And the chorused voice, and shouting force gale winds that blow from shore
She shuts her dimming eyes, where sun will never be...
And dives back to the purple twilight,
And the freedom of the sea
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Nickles, dimes
Fizzle, falter
As if
A magician
Mystically zapped
Finances
Whoa!
A problem
Surfaced
Frantic
Emotions
Preside, percolate
The power of prayer
Calms
Takes control, remains
Written: 12/14/2022
Isaiah 41: 10-15
Isaiah 41:10
New Living Translation
10 Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.
Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you.
I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.
Just hit with some anxiety when dealing with inflation.
Form: Yalto
I awoke from a dream --
well, let me start again:
My thought was that I had
awakened. Yet, I rose quite
mistily -- with ghastly figures
hanging in the air, moving
to and fro, in possessed manner.
Swat at them, I could not. My
arms would not lift, my hands
seeming porcelain objects. Residue
stillness, long after the model
had expired, and the artist had eaten
his last moistened bread meal.
The volume of Poe, lie open
on the bedstead, where it had been
wearily placed, just before my
dozing. Strange, the last page read had
been altered...and the name highlighted
for death, was now my own. Could
this deranged volume and I have
mysteriously, mystically changed
realities? My name began
to burn, uplift from the page, the savage
apparitions swarming to tear hungrily at the
fleeing image. My soul drowning in drool.
For the maneuvered inducement
of the compulsive being,
defined by the transmuting tenet of titular uniqueness,
configuring the personified convoluted identity,
changes in the self-devised palette of color mélange,
while the conjured chameleon furtively cocooned,
paints the shifting façade of disparaging deception.
In the ostensible enactment
of the prompted life’s incredible drama,
performance perfected in illusory one-act play,
and with the obsession of passion ostensible,
gilding the consequence crafted covertly
by metamorphic alchemic endeavor,
the surreptitious shift from one actor to another,
is an axiomatic designed drive of ambiguity.
Out of the limelight, the clandestine colors fade away
on the visage of degenerating virtual makeup,
the pallid original face morphs mystically into
the veracity mirror of fragile actuality,
replicating the real rendering of the sublime shape,
painted with the radiance of primal hue
of the unaltered distinctive disposition,
it personified once in the reflected image.
The spasm of contrived perception splits the mirror,
the shapeless shards of shattered reality
scatter as discarded debris blown away by wily air.
Metamorphosis creates the deluding creature,
an alien in its own transformed domain,
completes with the lattice of self-deceit
the contrasting paradigm of illusive shape shift.
For the contrived inducement
of the fixated being,
an aligned identity personified,
changes in self-devised palette
of metamorphosed color mélange,
while the conjured chameleon,
slyly cocooned,
paints surreptitiously
the shape-shifted portrait
d e c e p t i v e.
In ostensible enactment
of life’s incredible drama,
performance perfected in one-act play
with obsessed passion parodied,
gilds the corollary crafted by alchemy,
an axiomatic designed drive
induces the wily shift
from one actor to another
c o n t r i v e d.
Out of the limelight,
the covert colors fade
on virtually made-up visage,
the pallid original face
morphs mystically into
veracity mirror of actuality,
reflects the real identity depiction,
painted by primal hues of facade
of distinctive disposition
e p i t o m i z e d.
The spasm of pragmatic perception
splits the mirror,
the shards of shattered pretence
in the debris of demolished conceit
disappears in the crypt of obscurity
d i s c a r d e d.
The transformation creates the eluding entity,
an alien in its reinvented realm,
completes the illusory pattern
designed by the paradigm of contrast
ingrained in symbolized persona
d i v er g e n t.
Morgan Le Fay, born in England, becomes a priestess
and a leader of the sixth century cult called Darkhold.
Later turns into the supervillain of Marvel Comics
and the nemesis of the original Black Knight.
Derived from her faerie genetic configuration,
she possesses natural affinity for magical forces,
that made her one of world’s greatest female sorcerers
who can mystically manipulate the earth’s ecosystem.
She can cast illusion to remove spirits from their bodies,
place them under her total control as an enchantress.
With the supernatural power to transmute things,
she can change people and animals into other forms.
Her schemes have crossed the limits of centuries,
the true power of the magician filled with ill will,
destroys kingdoms and challenges all the Avengers,
while her elven heritage grants her immortality.
She can control the astral space where she once existed
and descending on earth she tries to take it over.
Her feats earn her a place in Sanctum Sanctorium
as the world’s latest sorcerer supreme.
_____________
April 9, 2023
Contest : The Women Of Hellboy
Sponsored by : Robert James Liguori