Long Nameless Poems
Long Nameless Poems. Below are the most popular long Nameless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nameless poems by poem length and keyword.
She was just a nameless child,
chasing herself through borrowed faces
Looking for little pieces of home
in unfamiliar places
Some passed hope from hand to hand,
some passed fear the same
Funny how two fires can look alike,
still burn a different flame
She carried stories on her back,
some she’d keep, some she’d lose
Growing ain’t the roads you’re shown,
it’s learning what to choose
The loud all swore they knew her heart
the quiet rarely cared
Yet every soul she wandered through
left something with her there
She found tomorrow in foreign smiles,
and sorrow in familiar eyes
Turns out truth don’t wear one face,
it’s scattered in disguise
Maybe that’s what growing is,
not proving someone right,
but finding her little miracle area…
In those soul-searching lessons
gave her the courage
to name herself…
America
No one knows from whence they came
No one knows their names
But there are microscopic “men”
Computing thots inside my brain
Androgenous android nanotechnology
Sent nanoprobes into my ear lobes
They’re nameless, shameless, from the unknown
Making my skull their new home
They’re like lice eating my mind
Foretelling my doom in good time
Storing my memories in Morse code
Transforming them into strange songs
Translating them into what’s right and wrong
After a many a long years
One returns to my ear
Slips thru the Eustachian tube
Used earwax like it was lube
Stopped at the edge like it was a door
His feet on my skin like it was the floor
For the first time saw the real world
And faintly whispered...
“What the...?”
Undulating are the clouds of Winter Fall
Rolled over paths meandering in secret
In a whisper, snow weaves through the timber
Nameless as the rain as they remain a mystery
To settle where they may as gentle
There on the lake shaped like a mirror clear
One swan looks up to heaven and her sun
Somehow smaller as the day is now undone
At a distance so cumbersome
Light hardly reaches us by Summer
Why is the sky so full of clouds in thickness
Why are they heavy in their weight in gray
Disguised as iron hanging over mountain tops
Are they not supposed to float on ocean shores
Blinding ships in fog, to lead them into danger waters
Into jagged rocks without a thought of kindness
There on the morning rise comes light
Snow melts away half frightened of the day
Though waterfalls are born from them they blush
You could say that snow becomes their children
Cascading over rocks into their innocence at play
"In the vortex of turbulent times emotions sink,
don’t ripple as humanity makes a museum of wooden people."
- Quote by Poet
In the far away island on the desolate seashore,
you build your desire castle with sands of dream,
and protect the fragile niche of seclusion
from the tide of time rolling with joy,
that can’t enter the gloomy abodes
made by nameless insular people.
Your windows are closed to the sunny sky,
and drowned in the dense darkness
you turn into a slice of moonless night.
In your pallid periphery as I pass you by,
I can’t see through the insensate musk
the true color of nameless opaque people.
You try to fly in the forsaken sky with frozen wings
in the forlorn fringe of the wasting winter.
In your heart of the arctic sea
emotions congeal, don’t swim.
I can’t hold your chilling hands for help
for you’re nameless cold people.
In your life that you make a dismal desert,
the oasis disappears under the depressed dunes.
Blazed by your flaming mind in wilderness,
sentiment smolders, doesn’t flow free.
I can’t find its sensual stream in your heart
to float my feelings, for you’re nameless dry people.
Wandering lonely in the museum of our times,
I see the wooden people displayed nameless.
“joy, empathy, compassion
on an upward arc
an effervescence eternal
causes bliss ignition to start” ~ Unseeking Seeker
I unlock the crystal frames
of these honest eyes,
to the sizzling sparks ~
the seraphic wings
of iridescent effulgence,
swirling and swaying in silence
between spaces of rising stars.
It’s a priceless adoration,
this soul’s cosmic compassion
surfing in sync with persistent passion,
in lyrics that Kundalini light illustrates
to the chakras of nameless existence,
where material mists
do not manipulate my faceless muse,
nor impress the magnetic rhythm
of flames entwined in faultless faith…
O phoenix sun ~ peace pursuer ~
my clarity verbalized in calm vowels,
I cradle the intuitive
activator of awakening,
an ambience of amplified auroras
alive and aroused by the hypnotic scent
of ivory roses,
blooming within inner conscience.
For you are the glass sky
that stirs my spirit in patience ~
unclothing the confusions
that cloud the
cerulean of my heart’s eden,
for love is a reborn feeling,
enlightening the weariness of breeze
to return like empathetic embers
amidst the
air flowing in blissful balminess…
Tonight, I b r e a t h e
the resurgent radiance
of everlasting agape,
hold the warmth
of relentless rippling romanticism,
as fingers quiver in quiescence,
as thoughts place their trust
in erasing erratic errors of ego,
that once blinded me from attaining
the divine affection
of desire draped in the formless
flowering lotus blaze,
listening as this ink release
the rhythmic runes of resistance,
engrossed in effervescence eternal,
to feel the
fuel of fragranced illumination…
So move through the pulse
of these metaphors
and alliterated verses,
melt into the unmetered mellifluence
of magical monologues,
so effortlessly,
whilst intoxicated by the stimulation
of deep awareness ~
O beloved dawn, I am the manifestation
of ineffable metamorphosis,
I speak in coherent reveries of peace,
wearing the tiara of truth,
crowned through
woven zephyrs of zestful trust,
as you now remain,
sculpted into these amorous veins
like an unreadable engraving,
a pristine presence;
heaven handwritten,
only my conscious sighs can render…
. for public domain
What depth of feeling stirs a child's heart?
When does it begin? How does it start?
And does it wake us rudely in the night,
with a sudden tremble, with an awful fright?
A nameless shadow fell over me,
deep in my sleep, no younger than three,
the night I wet my pillow with tears,
so much to bear for one so young in years.
I could not talk to anyone my sorrow,
no words came forth, and none to borrow.
And then I heard Wagner's Liebestod,
beyond all words, in a realm remote.
My terrors then all made sense to me.
A door flew open. No need for a key.
I now face cruelties Life tosses at me,
but never talk about them over tea.
Oh, to drift like a vagabond who is never missed
to ride the careless waves of an uncharted sea
to set my compass to the winds of desires
and let daydreams guide me along the way.
How I long to escape this present drudgery
and wander lonely backroads on a whim
abandon the grind, pursue unscripted adventures
forsake these long, monotonous hours
and slide into delightful oblivion.
Let me fly away from this cluttered madness
and be a nameless vagabond
with a faraway look and a careless smile
roam the world, free from obligation
happily unshackle my burdens
and cast them into the deepest sea.
8/28/2021
He was not impressed.
God knew the number of hairs on his head.
Did that include his beard if he ever grew one?
He would ponder this and other such anomalies of faith.
Why would a Supreme Being care about numbers,
or sparrows falling from the sky, or follicle formations?
Perhaps we were given a number at conception
engraved into our spiritual destiny? Did the number
follow us in death, or were positions changed
by Karmic endeavor and final placements rated
by lifetime achievements or failures?
On his ninety third birthday he received a card.
It showed how many seconds, minutes, hours,
days, months and years he had lived.
He pondered the meaning and worth of such information.
How could you measure Oct 26, 1963 against any other day?
And why would you? Was death, or life, just a numbers game?
A competition? A Cosmic Reality Show? A spiritual ratings contest?
He remembered fewer days as he got older.
Settled for snapshot glimpses of sunshine and snowflakes,
Nameless, yet familiar, smiles beckoning him
toward an un-numbered future.
He was not impressed
for he knew that God knew.
©2/10/2023
Writing Challenge – E Words Poetry Contest
And then paper went silent
leaving same sensation
again that bloody feeling of
big mountain exploding in heat inside my armour plate
just couldn't write the words
with no love among them
their people beheaded one of mine
now trough mine borders theirs screamed for salvation
mine theirs
ours
where did we displaced ours
when
how
always the same in that vicious circle
love and hate chase each other endlessly
clocks are falling off the walls
no limited time period for hate is permitted
as evil is another face of good
just turn that goddamned another cheek
an eye for an eye isn't our god's choice
if it was
He would wiped us out from the planet
we killed his son
now we are killing someones children again
beheading
lifting the wall
strengthened by words
anchored through indifference
they are theirs
send them back
what is broken
can be mended
will never be the same
send them back
shouldn't write those words
with no love among them
they are terrorists
terror could be ours
but europe remains for europeans
send them back
our future is their raping our women
lifting our towns in the air
bombing our schools
churches
hospitals
theirs and ours
under the same sky
stood
And all of that is their now
did I wrote the words
with no love among them?
beheaded religion
and traditionally incorporated patriotism
have written false flag play
clean heart has no misinterpretations
to write a life
only needed is courage
let that paper speak again
trough our borders theirs screaming for salvation
our is beheaded
already tomorrow will be forgotten
as it is less painful
and paper is mute
informations can't endure despair
have you seen them over there
standing in the rain
soaked to the bones
children
women
men
old man
sick
cripled
exausted
heaven is trying to protect their imperfection
mixing his tears with their cry
cleaning them enough so they can merit that crossing
fragile thoughts
mine
climbing over baptised palms
colliding them in prayer for
landless
nameless
lifeless
godless
why have you made us like this?
God went silent
ours
I feel it all.. the highs, the lows..
The silent grief that never shows.
I smile like I’ve not seen the fire..
But flames still flicker beneath the wire.
I play it cool, a practiced game..
While inside burns a nameless flame.
A storm of thoughts, both sharp and deep..
That churns beneath what looks like sleep.
I’ve danced through hell at a steady pace..
And wore the ashes on my face.
I hinder battles with all my might..
And still, I choose to walk in light.
I don’t just sense.. I see intent..
The words unsaid, the energy spent.
I watch the shift in subtle air..
And feel deceit before it’s there.
A sponge for pain that isn’t mine..
Yet I stay silent, calm, benign.
I carry weight that none can see..
But never let it bury me.
I know the dark, I’ve been its guest..
And laid my head upon its chest.
It whispered truths that left me raw..
But I arose, and still chose more.
So if you think I’m just composed..
A heart untouched, a mind that's closed..
Know this.. I’ve weathered storms unknown..
And built my strength whilst being alone.
I read the room, I feel the spin..
I know the war that hides within.
Yet still I lead with courage, not spite..
A quiet storm that walks in light.