Long Nebula Poems
Long Nebula Poems. Below are the most popular long Nebula by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nebula poems by poem length and keyword.
After the remote Big Bang cosmic chaos
in infinite void primal dust of matter chose
to cluster in captivating clumps so designed
in ethereal forms of nebula defined.
The cosmic winter’s prolong dark night
illumined in the universal primeval light
of unique stellar creation of sprawling galaxy
ushered sparkling spring of heavenly ecstasy.
In the celestial singular celebration
from the tapestry of Scorpius constellation
flew million light years in the deep space
the butterfly nebula with the cosmic grace.
June 4, 2019
Contest : Nifty Named Nebula's
Sponsor : William Kekaula
Picture chosen : # 1
This worrying view
Today on earth
Is it the end of life
For all it's worth
An angry sky
Overhead
Cold blues
Atmosphere dead
Clouds of gas
From interstellar space
Stratosphere breached
Alien face
But out of the hue
A face in the clouds
Nebula seeker
Her shroud crowds
This nebulae
Of particle dust
Energy of gas
The seeker com-busts
Angry exchange
In our skies above
Two galactic entities
Hemispherical shove
As the sky quietens
A bright star dares
To reveal its place
As we look up and stare
Calmness oozes
As the seeker sleeps
Gentle rains fall
The sky in tribute weeps
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/space.php
Me the Proto Star
Clouds of gas and cosmic dust moving fast
with galaxy throw out accumulate forming nebulae.
One nebula is my birth place.
Gradual accretion of interstellar materials create turbulence
initiating knots of stuff to collapse
on own gravitational attraction forming my fetus.
Photons are squeezed under pressure undergoing fusion.
As temperature rose to Ten Million Kelvin,
Me the nascent descent Proto star is born.
Now I am just new-born, a toddler you can call,
Sun is my older sibling just an ordinary Star,
five hundred billion years older than me.
Millions of Galaxies, billions of huge massive stars
all fiery burning balls rushing with tremendous velocities
in infinite Universe.
Me a trivial luminous cosmic object seems an infinitesimal.
Poor Mankind sees stars like static polka dots
twinkling, sparkling, glistening, shimmering, shining.
Scientists trying to explore the mystery of Universe.
Poets being charmed on beauty of tapestry of starry sky
are soaring high on dreams creating Verse.
Written: June 04, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Brian Strand
*****************
Crude oil squats between my ribs
as a codependent nebula
asking if we can “talk around our relationship.”
It purrs, leaks, and files an HR complaint
with the Department of Internal Oceans
for “hostile hydration practices.”
It vibrates in my chest
like a supertanker with performance anxiety
and no access to therapy.
The apple in my hand declares a recession mid-bite,
Its seeds unionize,
the core files for bankruptcy,
and the stem starts a podcast about “resilience.”
I chew once,
And suddenly I’m liable
for three galaxies' worth of debt
and one very crestfallen auditor threat.
While the fridge appears geopolitical,
The milk launches a coup, cynical.
The yogurt is sanctioned for “fermenting unrest.”
and the butter — Napoleon of refrigeration —
amasses troops behind the pickles.
While margarine runs for office — for nickels,
on a platform of “No More Warmth.”
When I walk, the floorboards groan
under global markets
and interest rates that adjust themselves —
Whenever I breathe.
They creak like ancient gods
who regret outsourcing creation
to primates with credit cards.
My shadow unionizes,
demands cosmic hazard pay
and a dental plan,
then takes unauthorized smoke breaks
in a separate galaxy.
Every heartbeat slaps like a tanker hull
wondering why anyone trusted apes
with fire, feelings,
or anything that comes in a bottle.
And still — the Strait wears my skin,
the world wears my worry like a borrowed coat —
And I wear the whole mess
two sizes too small,
like a thrift-store spacesuit
missing its helmet.
So I laugh.
Because if I don’t,
the milk wins —
and the apple
will schedule another meeting —
That should’ve been an email.
Patterns are evident throughout God’s creation.
A nucleus determines the pattern of every cell.
And the seas shape patterns for shores and straits.
Why should stars not have their patterns as well?
A city has skylines of steel, glass, and brick,
As stately as a mountain range of ridges.
Music holds patterns within every chord,
Much like urban waterways feature bridges.
An egg rests snug and secure in its bird nest,
Like a nebula embedded with a protostar or baby sun.
Here the protostar begins its long life,
Following the pattern ancient as the eternal fun.
In the cosmos patterns are not one size fit all.
So, each pattern fits one star at a time.
One for the massive giant and others for small,
Since little stars live longer in the cosmic clime.
Less mass means long life with many patterns,
While the giant’s life is less eventful and long.
Of course, all these patterns are seen only by God,
And serve as aspirations for man’s dream and song.
I stand atop a mountain tall,
look down upon the land,
the forests clinging to the slopes,
green valleys long and grand.
Rivers carve torrents right through them,
can still hear them up here,
cabins scattered amongst the woods,
one such belongs to me.
Some wonder why I walk up peaks,
why I deal with that strain,
the only view that is better
would be from an airplane.
I am jammed in a window seat,
thirty thousand feet high,
the Great Lakes stretching below me,
almost as blue as sky.
There’s boats I see amongst the wave,
but they're actually ships,
trawlers and freighters loaded down,
doggedly make their trip.
The gray of cities on the shore,
suburbs encircle it,
the only view that could beat this
would be up in orbit.
I look out the capsule window,
five hundred miles high,
amazed by fringe of black and blue
where the great void meets sky.
The clouds a frosting, wispy white,
obscuring land and earth,
on the night side a web of lights,
the cities' yellow blur.
Beyond me a spangled starfield
stretches on endlessly,
to see greater you would have to
leave the dang galaxy.
I stare down on the spiral arms
of the grand Milky Way,
Bound loose around a brilliant core
where countless bright stars blaze.
Reaches of stars drifting about
in graceful, curving arcs,
billions of stars and their planets,
defy the endless dark.
The nova and the nebula,
so beautiful it hurts,
to see better you would have to
know the whole universe.
I gaze down on the great clusters,
light dots looks like a star,
but each is a whole galaxy,
Lord, how many there are!
Swinging around in massive groups,
too big to comprehend,
I can’t try to make sense of this,
it’s just too big for men.
My mind says that there’s nothing more,
I’ve reached the end, must quit;
but part of me thinks something else
must be bigger than this.
…and won’t that be cool to see.
("Raven With Big Heart Nebula", 2018, original encaustic)
Raven
Raven with his cloak of feathers
Shimmers in the noon day Sun
Calling, laughing, hopping, dancing
Plays with light in joy for fun
Teach us now for we have fallen
Far from grace that comes with dawn
As the night quickly approaches
Lead us on the path you’ve drawn
Calling, laughing, hopping, dancing
Raven leaves us where we are
Silly child who grasps a rainbow
Light refracting from a star
So it goes in endless cycles
Step by step we trudge along
While Sun and Earth dance as partners
Only Raven knows the song
(9/24/23)
Gazing at the Sky
Gazing at the sky on a summer night
With MYRIADS of stars shining sheer bright
Beside the LUNAR orb is sheer delight,
To my heart and mind an exquisite sight,
A scene I would ever wish to relish,
A picture I would take pride to cherish.
Lending an awfully attentive ear,
Dispelling all SLITHERING waves of fear
I can overhear LILTING songs of stars,
Though many a hundred light years afar,
So tuneful and melodious to hear
So harmonious, lyrical and clear,
Staring at the sky with still closer eyes
A NEBULA close to the stars up high
I can view, a swirling canvas full bright,
Painted with hues of cosmic dazzling light,
A shining seedbed for stars to take birth,
A SERPENTINE charm when viewed from the earth.
As I gaze at nightly sky from a couch
A sour PHOSPHOROUS taste pervades my mouth
And streams of deep thoughts CASCADE from my mind
As in the sky real joy I can`t find
As peering down my inner self procures
And scanning the depth of myself secures.
The inner self is a matchless art piece,
A fountain of true happiness and peace
A serene Nebula of sparkling light
That never fades, but day and night shines bright
Leads man to the rightful path in his life
And spares him from a stark Serpentine strife.
Unrestrained, my essence glows between worlds,
in the deep tenderness of twilight
across a bridge, along a nebula gliding--
this ride held by the spirit of the wilderness,
a silence immense…
where light’s universe becomes
music to my soul -union
as the cradle of wellness... a trance almost,
expands in some universe not cornered
By winds drifting unto a meditative realm
with ease unmapped by this earthly compass:
I am at the risk of a heavenly touch... this wisdom
leading nothingness through a beautiful mystery--
There's no finality in this haloed splendor
only a discernment meeting the god within--
that from the bliss of solitude, noises hide me
in an inner sanctuary which honors peace ,
that finding my way, I am nothing but whole.
-------
7/27/2019
20 Titles from 20 Friends Contest of Richard Lamoureux
-------------------------
Between Worlds—Pixie Dust
Tenderness of Twilight—Silent One
With Ease—Lou Loo
Beautiful Mystery—Frederic Parker
Finding my way--Richard Lamoureux
Nebula—Sunshine Smile
Touch—Rob Carmack
Splendor--Carrie Richards
Wisdom—Eve Roper
Universe—Gregory R Barden
Bridge—Victor Buhagiar
Hide Me—Kelly Deschler
The cradle—John Lawless
Cornered—Charlotte Puddiffot
A Trance Almost—Lawrence Sharp
Unrestrained—Paul Callus
Spirit of the Wilderness—Agnes Krampe
Music to My Soul-- Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
In the Deep--David Mohn
The Bliss of Solitude--Dear Heart
Aim dead center, O aeon!
Era, this is now.
Ergo, O my stern scion;
Come to anyhow!
Looking-glasses are like wind.
Reality grinned.
Terror, tiger, tamarind!
Sacred til he sinned...
Gaunt the gambrel goblin?
No smile a-face today.
Whirling dervish, loud the din!
War, be on thy way!
Grey of the nebula pond;
Why is waiting good?
Yellow-speckled viper yawned!
Gone but understood!
Kingdoms are like prophecies?
Yes, in this context:
Rife, roil, rampant, rare! Disease!
Hell and Heaven, hexed...
Sort it out, O sordid sigh...
Do not ask us why?
Sylvan silver, art thou shy?
Bargain basement buy?
Syllable, unleash thy wrath!
Letters, break the chain!
Poems, place us on the path!
Language, take the lane!
Young is this old harpsichord?
Harpy, use a sword?
Bull, matador. Which gets gored?
Folly gets you floored.
Holly. Mistletoe, thy doom.
Poison, flow like wine.
Ivy, rune, ice, ancient tomb.
Cyanide strychnine.