Long Nebular Poems
Long Nebular Poems. Below are the most popular long Nebular by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nebular poems by poem length and keyword.
Cool waters casade over myriad
rocks. That serpentine creek which heads to sea
Voice lilts,, its charm draws me in period
Fears enters as I sit under the tree
Crescent moon rising gives off lunar light
There appears a phosphorous light green glow
Creatures who are naturally bright at night
Water ripples by, while soft breezes blow
Fear gives way to the beautiful set-up
By God's verdant earth, Lord of creation
Then creatures slither emptying my cup
A lizard, not a nebular station
The negative ions should be soothing
A night visit seems to offer musings
My boyfriend’s a physicist - he finds the universe interesting.
Imagine yourself in Paris, where ordinary evenings can feel cinematic. Maybe it’s the staging of the luminous moon, the warm, flattering glow of gas streetlights, the low architecture that accents the sky - or the wine but there’s a collusion that meshes with the city’s origin myth of romance.
Anyway, you’re dressed to the nines, wearing later-surprise underwear and he’s talking about ‘neural convolutional networks (AI).’
They recognize and filter nebular contamination (whatever THAT is).
Who knew?
You could fill a library with what I don’t know - apparently.
He’s so cute with his smartyness.
Don’t worry, this isn’t a tale of tragic passion.
A little expressive affection will bring him into my lusty orbit.
.
.
Songs for this:
I Can't Help Loving That Man by Björk
Inside and Out by Feist
Two drifting hearts
pining to be one,
hover on the convergent surge
of the winds of yearning.
Once fused, the primal passion
drives their propulsion,
taking them to the carnal heights
of cosmic longing,
consummated in celestial silence.
At the acme of surreal desire
of magnetic craving,
the private spaces of the two bodies
implode to disappear.
Their mingled souls
then turn into the singularity
suspended in deep outer space
where in astral ballet
they sway entwined.
The blended bodies
of sculpted silhouette,
framed against the diffused glow
of the crescent moon,
float to the edge of nebular clouds,
away from the intangible allure
of the blue planet,
that couldn’t thwart
the space odyssey of love.
January 25, 2020
Contest : Picture Prompt
Sponsor : Brenda Chiri
A nihilist sees the tree and
questions why a single leaf fears the wind.
If the tree exists at all.
An invisible speck of mathematical matter
tucked away in a nebular equation.
If the equation exists at all.
He stands alone on a sunny day
beneath a cloudless sky and waits.
Nearby, a family celebrates
their ability to multiply.
A child’s birthday party.
Just one of many for one of the many.
God willing.
The father smears mustard on a hamburger bun.
His daughter objects to the sesame seeds.
She picks a single seed
from the soft bread and positions
it beneath the blue nail of her middle finger,
presses the top of that nail
to the bottom of her thumb,
then sends the seed soaring to Kingdom come.
The nihilist refuses to see the seed.
How it glides through air defying gravity.
How it waits for an opportunity to strike
like a military drone
(all systems green)
looking down on the park
ready to blow that fearful leaf away.
In the name of self-preservation.
11/22/2018
Spiritual transformation can be a realization; through
meditation it may be an ongoing manifestation.
We have unmeasurable potential to live as a sun
shinny radiance. To mindfully focus on our indwelling
soul rays peels away internal false layers that keep us
from essentially, truthfully and mindfully, being there.
From moment one, each infant is conditioned further
away from their innate wisdom. Born as love made of
love by and from the one source of all love, we are
diminished once earth cast from above.
We are infinite freedom and light. We all hold the
insight to know boundless glows. Silencing mind thinks
allows the soul to re-administer sun blinks to all who truly
desire being illuminated so. Centered in inactivity to
faithfully rely only on diminished life noise, holds more
spiritual "I am" compliance than any earth moment spent.
Through true surrender of earth themes, ideally no one's
heart will earth reside as a regular nebular, but all as a
unique sunbeam.
There you go,
back, far back into the woods once more.
I wish you knew the names of all these tree.
They are distant aunts, and old soldiers,
warriors of coincidental conflicts.
Blood soaked relations of relative ghosts
seen now only as points of departure
where tombs have been riven by lightning
or whole forests burnt to the ground
to a more fertile ash.
Names unknown but named in a book
rivers and reeds write
for later roots to unravel.
Fathers as old as the first horse.
Mothers who breast fed the slow dreams
of a humankind destined to plant her flag
upon a million fields of creation.
Yet more await, are nursed as new seeds
that glimmer in a shinning nebular.
Now I watch one lone child
pass through gorse, thickets, and briar,
travelling through its own forest
to be born into a family
that has yet to be named or branched.
Life lives and returns to find out why
again and again.
Reincarnated crucifixions
dot a new landscape each era,
vacations in Ohio last until
death stamps a later passport.
Sweat and blood in Thailand,
transforms into poetry.
A blind man digging his way through a city
mining for a treasure he was born with.
Back we will come
arriving from anywhere
and anyone.
Each deliverance a blessing
we had to uncover and acknowledge
as our own woodland mystery.
A place between sacred mountains and molehills
where the trees have yet to be labeled
or cutdown, and green growing offspring
with their little axes
getting duller and heavier each year
until the woods and all disappear
to follow the night-train
to where they will arrive at,
whatever platform we have
cobbled together or erected with prescient hands.
Then we claim our Kingdoms,
our many mansions, the many branches of us all.
As the cycle turn and spiral
again to return carrying a new child
as a gift of the light.