Long Numberless Poems
Long Numberless Poems. Below are the most popular long Numberless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Numberless poems by poem length and keyword.
Preponderance of dimensions perplexes with bliss string fervor
Lake mine previous
(stream of consciousness
imponderable) poetic efforts,
sans spiritus mundi, converse
sing a boot unfamiliar thread,
and ignored common
sense ne'er re: hearse
sing, asper William Butler Yeats,
aye went off deep end, perhaps
provoked at least une nurse
sis sear re: literary unlicensed violation,
and additionally one emphatic curse,
where mine poe whet
tick feet did immerse
for the methamphetamine time acid,
(I said to myself), why traverse
pointlessly imagining something worse
tread about, i.e. say...tripping
along head over heels, yet
nagging notion would not disperse
venturing blithely writing
plunging into terra incognita parallel
universe a "multiverse"
herewith also Ark
chew woolly Noah intent
for yours truly to drown while purse
sue wing abstract notion,
viz domain of science fiction,
never intermittently intersperse
sing following lines with "HELP, I need
somebody...", nor deliberately submerge
readers within a mini sea course
of confusion, but I feel confounded
gripped, lured...and will gladly reimburse,
should delving over my head diverse
if eyeing breadth, length, scope...
beyond realm of mom and pop verse
a tile theoretical physicists,
who casually identify ten dimensions
— eleven including time, nor averse
slithering thru worm holes
such more'n flight of fancy seems perverse,
whereat numberless whirled
wide webs presents obverse
to accepted paradigm reverse
sing scientific tenets describing
quarks, plus portal bellow much
room (See Alice in Wonderland) disperse
sing notions, where exodus
down the rabbit hole
into alternate self contained
separate cosmological infinitesimal channels
far more exciting than reality television!
For hills and ideals we died,
How many dreams went buried with us
No one shall ever know.
For mounds of ideals
Created by men who sit behind polished wood desks
We strangers met in unnamed places
Where we slew one another in red waves of senseless fury
To satisfy their contentions; to pledge new allegiance to Death's infinite Kingdom.
Death is a mighty, though gentle king, reigning as he does in silence and Distance
This ruler of the numberless multitude
Ever swelling beneath the Earth's soft skin.
The great and the small, the strong and the weak,
Now sleep together, brothers in the land of long shadows.
At rest beneath a mantle of cool starless black
We await the coming of the others.
We know they will come, dying for hills and ideals
Because strong faceless men say they must.
Here they will find us secure in our true equality,
Our king allowing for no division, dreams or loyalties -
No contention, only peace, perfect peace
The peace of the brotherhood that drifts in the blankness,
The faultless peace of the quiet subjects of death.
Day begins to write
on the pages of my waking,
first by rubbing out the scribbles
left by fleeing dreams, then
wanders a thin pencil line
of sound across my mind,
an easy doodle to bring
me slowly out of sleep.
Soon the page begins to fill
with the familiar, taking in
the growing light to annoint
each object with a name.
Thoughts assemble and look
for space to expand
in the paused moments
of a moving pen, some
trying to nudge out the now
with the usual bullies
of threat and fear.
And so, what was blank
has the world and me
spilling line by line
down page after page,
a passing character written
into an evolving plot.
Each morning
the universe wakes me up
and begins again
to write its story.
The only paper it has
is housed in the dusty,
self stained cupboards
of our conscious minds.
Our little lives noted
in the bibliography at the back
of numberless books arranged
in rows upon a shelf, somewhere
in the vast library
of its cosmic self.
Each afternoon my mom and I would walk
Two miles along the old lake road to meet
My siblings' bus, and all the way we'd talk
How dear, the meager things ...
She'd tutor me with lines that I'd repeat
A special verse by rote, (tho' I would balk)
So thus by Friday eve I'd know, complete
Another sonnet I could proudly mock
These lessons lasted only 'til we'd greet
My sibs, on the return trip we took stock
Of all the nature, bright and bittersweet
How dear, the meager things ...
I so enjoyed those little walks each day
That aged lake road with forest canopy
I'll always hear her voice beside me say
How dear, the meager things ...
Numberless, the instructions, taught to be
The priceless wisdom used along my way
While memorizing verse then wearied me
It's why I'm now this poet, and to stay
Of all life's lessons that I've come to see
The one most precious I will ne'er betray
My hand in hers, so safe and so care-free ...
How dear, the meager things.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge, Feb 2019, Roundel Form" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
(Syllables counted at HowManySyllables.com)
January 11 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Genesis 31-33
Key Verse – Genesis 31:3 And the LORD said unto Jacob, Return unto the land of thy fathers, and to thy kindred; and I will be with thee.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY “I WILL BE WITH THEE” INSURER
Lord God, You are my “I will be with thee” Insurer with Your power
Thank You for protecting me from any evil devourer
As You anoint me in Your pillar’s tower
To keep me in Your safety since You are my succorer.
Lord God, You are my “I will be with thee” Insurer with Your goodness
Thank You for pursuing after me in Your kindness
As You overtake me by Your greatness
To uphold me in Your mercy’s steadfastness.
Lord God, You are my “I will be with thee” Insurer with Your covenant
Thank You for watching over me by Your love so abundant
As You allow my heart to stay as Your humble servant
To help me offer active sacrifices of a steward, never dormant.
Lord God, You are my “I will be with thee” Insurer with Your grace
Thank You for securing me from distress of fear along life’s race
As You deal well with me against struggles’ mace
To deliver me from carnality by Your truth’s rays.
Lord God, You are my “I will be with thee” Insurer with Your blessings, numberless
Thank You for guiding me by Your commandments, truly spotless
As You prevail in Your calmness, never ruthless
To cheer me up whenever I feel hopeless.
Lord God, You are my “I will be with thee” Insurer with Your encouragement
Thank You for preserving me by Your warning engagement
As You admonish me against worldly involvement
To assure me Your answers in my prayer-enlightenment.
Lord God, You are my “I will be with thee” Insurer with Your leadership
Thank You for building me up in Your friendship
As You brace me upon Your fellowship
To let me enjoy Your welcoming altar of meaningful worship.
January 11, 2023
Luna's Lullaby
A boundless smile, there is beauty to behold
Toward serene and luminous field adds more flowers in gold
But its on golden moonbeams I take my flight
For the caress of your fragrant petals of white
As a butterfly slides slowly on the winds
Like the numberless pictures and sounds in minds
I catch your scent upon the breeze
A fragrance of seductive tease
A painting impresses my mind, the setting sun
Painted in colors of such beauty, her rays are spun
But I come to you as Luna's lullaby
A dulcet melody in the night sky
I swirl around your aura, my beautiful flower
Unable to resist your enchanting power
The future with you, each and every day nearest
To the rest of our lives, in loving embrace my dearest
At the end of the day, the heavens gleam
Sleep now, no pain will wake you from you dream
So I'll leave you Luna's lullaby before I depart
To keep in harmony, the rhythm of our hearts
~~
7/10/17
We are like the shooting stars
Underneath God’s sun.
Speeding down our own life paths
Till our time is done.
Numberless, like bits of dust,
Moving through our space,
All so different, yet alike
In the human race.
Infants first; then life heats up
And we show a glow.
Growing old, we then burn down.
Swiftly our lives go!
Some of us are just plain white.
Some have special hue.
Special ones are yellow, green,
Orange, red or blue.
Few, for good or bad, crash down,
And they’ll always be
Meteorites we recall
Throughout history.
Not remembered always on
Pages of our books,
Are the stars at whom we take
Fondest second looks.
Fireballs, they will burn down too,
But the light they give
Shines the brightest. May we all
As bright fireballs live!
Luna, lovely Luna,
she is a goddess
and also
~the moon is
an honest Manipulator~
See her, this beauty
waxing and waning
so steadfastly.
She is always there
above us
like the immutable God
who planted her
at the planet’s genesis
as the night scape
for all humanity.
Who can say why
she inspires painters to paint
and poets to praise her grace?
With the wiles of a woman,
she changes shape
yet she stays the course
set by her creator,
for never does she stray
from her usual pattern.
God did not make her
to be a liar,
yet oh, how she beguiles!
Throughout millennia,
she has glowingly gazed down
on numberless lovers.
How many affairs of the heart
did she help to consummate?
Her constant rhythms
turn the oceans’ tides
and when fully bloomed,
this mysterious moon
is said to induce madness.
Yet who can pin guilt
on the face of such
pearlescent innocent
luminescence?
Like earth’s seas,
we are mystically pulled to her.
A portion of our fate
she pre-ordains,
and whether she is silver,
ivory white or golden,
she steers the way,
and we are fools
who do not understand
her power.
Like a stalking hoarse,
Have endured shrewd days and night,
Like the physician ampoule,
Ready on my skin to pour.
flights from ignorance left these
Strawberry marks,
Eyes glued on the object
compelled to the hard brown wooden logs in art,
And the iron in room "G02".
Friends and enemies unrelenting
awaits enticement,
numberless distraction as obstacles on my path,
beckoning to the banquet of misery,
as this dangling reputation slowly pace along undeterred.
ego gangs gauged and chokes to loose the prize
avalanche of invisible darts piercing from home and abroad,
but I, a pretty piece of flesh,
Stand aloof to watch a drama
With the ointments of the supreme being
Within my bowels,
Those that see the seals, demand the cause,
Of quietude in this world of madness.
As I stood aloof to watch the wretch mirth turns to mourn
Ah weary watcher, like you, I am a mere voyager,
on the route where the delight of the peasantry
Is wept into oblivion
There are dangerous curves
As we advance,
there are dangling arrows,
The old serpent is not dead,
he hides in ambuscades
The road becomes deeper and deeper,
The shades of the precipices fall bleaker and bleaker.
The clouds gather overhead,
Doleful voices
The way hardly discernible in this gloom
The path is dreary,
our feet too often wobble,
Heart ambushed by fiercest lust,
Yet, Firm stand I.
Not in my natural element
Full of sunlight
dipped out from a spring named hope by a mountain foot
in the jar that we bought after a long period of hesitation
at a time of making a new home
is slopping from side to side.
We roamed together in the wilderness
where so many springs came and went;
we stayed up many nights watching the flickering fireflies
in the many returning summers; we walked through numberless autumns
stepping on the heaps of fallen leaves; we wandered many winters aimlessly
in the snow covered fields;
while we went up and down
many rugged hills and rocky mountains
for more than five decades together,
and during those long and tiring years,
though the jar you are carrying bumped into not a few but many rocks and trees
by which the brim chipped off here and there and base gouged out all over,
you never think to change it for a new one.
After all,
you tripped on the stones
many times on the way of our journey,
you never spilled a drop of sun-ray
or, though sometimes it is bothersome,
you did not pour them on the ground.
However, look at me!
the knapsack I carry is beaten by
the untiring rains and winds
and torn to rags from ages of abuse,
and now, though I am an empty knapsack,
you did not abandon me but came with me,
sometimes you walked ahead and other times just following me.
I see sunlight you filled from the spring is overflowing
from that unseemly jar you are carrying;
in spring, buds and blooms of all sorts of flowers
in the field make me look back to verify your presence
and smile when I recognize you by me;
in summer, when we are lying on a tree trunk
under a shade for a moment of rest
a breath of air stops by us and tells a story
for the reason why we walk together;
in autumn, I learn the meaning of decay
through watching the leaves fall and roll
on the ground carried by a gust of wind,
nonetheless, you let me have a moment of appreciation,
you make my life worthwhile, with the flavor of fruit I bite.
Even if winter comes
unless you are not abandoning that jar,
as long as sunlight is overflowing from the jar,
though I am an empty knapsack,
I trust you that your thoughtful heart
will block the blowing wind,
your sagacity will turn snow into beautiful flowers.