Long Omen Poems

Long Omen Poems. Below are the most popular long Omen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Omen poems by poem length and keyword.


Marriage As a Vehicle: Two Drivers

He jumped into the vehicle,
By the staring he praised the Oracle.
Billed the pedals,scolded the horn,
Clutched the clutch,pricked by fun.

Potholes and howling gutters
KIA on the way, tossing their triggers. 
Hay and dusk blowing ordeals, 
Omen of bitterness lurking in the lorry.

And then he visited the filling station,
Then 'over did he the staring to his lover. 
His lover now in remonstration hover-
"Potholes feud, traffic strangling notions".

Jogging into potholes,she pricked her lover "The Lazier".
She has forgotten : Marriage's toss by two drivers. 
          17:17:09:11:32
Form: Imagism


The Little Portuguese Princess

A Portuguese princess there on the stairs
Knee high and smiling of wish filled cares
A grin of a sprite and a handful of pickings
A thought to feelings and a feel to thinkings
Till pointed announcement, "For you and for you."
A secret left caught in her spirited dart to
Another pressing matter of love and games
A month passed and pity's provocation aims
To knocking on my girl's hollow door
Sounding a nothing echo for the evermore
Wistful angel synced to clocks not mine 
So disadvantageous did thine flowers consign
Why not to honouring when I had a lover
Who did not gloat to beauty put asunder
By modern wants and riverless walks
and treeless skies and dreamless talks
Give me back your moment of bestowing
That glinted charm that beckons love's sowing
With a woman I needed and wish as you
To see lover's love letting blue be blue
And fire warmth and winters just waitings
Till red ribbons make kites tailings
Under summer suns, above greenery breathing
Come back again to the stairs and stepping
up to shake my shirt and turn my head
With a handful of love and repeat what you said
"For you and for you" and spirit into my memory
as the omen that begun and beget a true love's story
Form: Rhyme

Ode To The Crow

Steeped in mysterious magic
fearlessly they go
an eerily mischievous bird
you’re never far from a crow

Mystical messenger of the occult
blackest black obsidian plume
baneful omen of death they fly
loudest squawking cawing loom

Many become a murder and
Dickens’ “clerical bird” alas
abounds in much of folklore plus
an omen of change to come and pass

Ominous with foreboding presence
intelligent with cunning scheme
dominant from high in branch
the Shaman’s totem in a dream

A harbinger guiding souls thereafter
a bird of Morrigan’s war and strife
death it seems surrounds although
Bran The Blessed’s giant life

Scruffily nesting high above
bold and swooping on the moor
familiar sight to all who sees
while Keepers of the Sacred Law

Impressive and powerful of un-phased force
tearing without a fuss they eat
opportunists lurking, stalking by
scavenging decay and roadkill meat

A witch’s familiar and wizard’s friend
the alchemist’s first stage
shapeshifting through mysticism
the all knowing, all seeing sage

Of superstition singularly unlucky
but luck would then mean two
three and four in health and wealth
no good, five and six for you

Smartly attired this bird of lore
with fear and with respect
living around and closely within us
an unfathomable intellect

Nature and supernatural alike
realms with ease they merge
from Wicca to mythology
a real otherworldly surge

A four by four of all terrain
from all around they gloat
thankfully an abundant friend
thus ends this Corvid’s note
Form: Quatrain

gecko luck

[Poet’s Notes : Geckos are flexible, able to thrive in most situations. They symbolise transformation & resilience due to their ability to detach, then regrow their tails. Losing their tail is a metaphor for shedding old habits, fears, or burdens that no longer serve. As omen, they represent good luck, adaptability, a reminder to shed the past, rebuild, moving forward after setbacks. In many cultures, geckos are signs of positive protection.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“With renewal comes guardianship ~ an inner strength to both hold the past whilst not being defined by it.” ~ Poet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gecko appeared on white wall
tail shadow flickering fall
amber leaves crack autumn’s cue
shows transmutation is due ~

Regeneration is name
my chosen professed good game
power healings signal luck
old scales peel burning in muck

_________________________
Placed 5th : Standard Contest 
March 26 : Sponsor: Charles Messina
Form: Jueju

Premium Member Castle Or Search For the Light

I see a shiny castle
On a high mountain top
Surrounded by a starry hassle
Of bright dancing stars
With moon hanging on its pillars
In the bed of puffy clouds
I see the candle light 
Shining through narrow windows 
Of the top floor arched pillars
My heart fills with unbearable 
Longing and desire to touch 
The light with my fingertips
I know I have to reach it
In the darkness of the night
I start my pilgrimage 
That lasts years of despair
Being lost and scared
Taking risky paths that lead 
To the darkness and demise
I panick and gave up many times
After thousands of sleepless nights 
I float in the vacuum of despair
And I am losing my affair 
With the shiny alluring light 
But in the depth of starry night
I see the omen of hope and delight
I see the lights of castle’s
Narrow windows every night
In dreams of deep insomniac daze
I see my hands reaching the light
In one passionate flight
But it seems the castle evades
My desperate attempts
And flies deep in to the
Darkness of the abyss
After all those years 
Of exhausting search 
I am hopelessly lost 
Sinking into dark cold empty
Nothingness I give up my 
Precious task once again
I spend eternity in suspenseful 
Numbness till one day 
After light years away
Suddenly I see the magical
Light flickering again
Much closer than ever 
In front of my eyes
I reach my arms cautiously 
But the light doesn’t shy away
For the first time I try once again
Almost touching its fiery edge
In one leap of despair
Hanging up in the air
Suddenly I see a bottomless abyss
That separates me from the castle
After so many years of attempts
I am no longer afraid or tense
I take a deep breath and descend 
in to the pit of running waters 
Into the coldness of unknown 
Unrecognizable scary world
That I never encountered before
Emptiness surrounds me 
After all those years of being lost
I no longer struggle I must
Descend into the running waters
And float into the infinity
But once again suddenly 
I feel solid ground under my feet
And like a bird in one leap
I fly to the mountain
Till its shiny top
With the wind behind my back
Where the gates of the castle
Are invitingly open
And I step in to the 
Magical light
That I was chasing all those 
Long years of 
Being lost 
In darkness
Form: ABC


A Pierrot's Tear

Some say yesterday a sweet memory, 
but to me, yesterday is another bad dream 
I want to shake off forthwith.  

Although I admit today as today 
because I see sun in the sky, I suppose,
today would be another day of bad dream as well at last, 

and if this premise is true or can be constructed from
past experience and present, then, what can you expect
from tomorrow.  Most likely, no positive outcomes.

Despite of all those negative connotations, I want to vest
some meaning to tomorrow.  Perhaps, I have a belief
though with uncertainty, that everything has its end.

With ruined make-up in a timeworn suit, I roam 
a street as usual to find my place to perform monodrama
and when I crack jokes considering passersby in the street

as my audiences, the jokes were thrown at the ground,
kicked and stamped by the heartless audiences and returned
to me as an empty echo.

Nonetheless, I have to accept their unkindly reception
on my jokes as if it’s proper and reply with another joke
awkwardly, though it’s painful, I swallow the result of 

such treatments dilute them with tears 
and follow the time that brings nothing good for me 
but only ill omen.
© Su Ben  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Corona

Corona
by Michael R. Burch

There was a moment
  without the sound of trumpets or a shining light,
    but with only silence and darkness and a cool mist
      felt more than seen.
      I was eighteen,
    my heart pounding wildly within me like a fist.
  Expectation hung like a cry in the night,
and your eyes shone like the corona of a comet.

There was an instant...
  without words, but with a deeper communion,
    as clothing first, then inhibitions fell;
      liquidly our lips met
      —feverish, wet—
    forgotten, the tales of heaven and hell,
  in the immediacy of our fumbling union...
when the rest of the world became distant.

Then the only light was the moon on the rise,
and the only sound, the communion of sighs.

With all the understandable gloom, doom and despair over the coronavirus, I was reminded of this early poem of mine that used the term "corona" in a much more positive light. I wrote this poem around age 18 and it has been published by Grassroots Poetry and Poetry Webring. Keywords/Tags: Corona, coronavirus, touch, union, communion, sigh, sighs, expectation, unity, trumpets, heart, heartache, pounding, youth, virginity, first love, teen love, romantic love, relationship, sex, sexy, sensual, arousal, union, ecstasy, consummation, consume, consumed, consecration, omen, comet, shooting star, talisman, moonrise, moon rising
Form: Sonnet

There's No Such Thing, Present

one day, while i was walking along the way as usual,
a strange thought suddenly occurred to me, i stopped 
and turned back instinctively 

“don’t stop, keep going your way
because the truth of the matter is the footmarks 
you left behind are nothing but bitter memories” 
the present is something i dropped while moving 
in and out of the past and future, investing great value
in ordinary things that can physically be felt, is shattered 
to pieces, a broken glass full of rotting wine   

“don’t content with the status quo
because it’s nothing more than the sand 
in your palm, it’s an illusion you may see or may not see”
i was thinking the future is nothing but a rainbow 
hanging in the air seeing colors through a prism 
comparing myself to a gross looking wriggling maggot  
 
“it seems to be a good omen when you look up the infinite space 
sky is blue and the sun is brilliant, but don’t be beguiled by those phenomena; actually the rainbow is the burning vapor struggling 
not to evaporate, the sun is a tyrant and the sky is a figment of  
the spectator’s imagination, it intersects with all kinds of prodigies”
© Su Ben  Create an image from this poem.

Emulation

WHICH ANIMAL DO YOU EMULATE?

Be fast like a cheetah
Don't wait for any hater

Be vigilant like a snake
Always alert and awake

Strong like lion
Defeat every obstacle on your way to Mt.Zion

Wild like a tiger
Scare any bad omen which tries to linger

Wise like an ant
Know when you need and want

Humble like a sheep
Your shepherd will give you a place to sleep

Calm like a cat
Don't confuse mouse with a rat

Don't be lazy like the snail
Lest you are likely to fail

Don't be slow like a tortoise
lest you become susceptible to your enemies

Be neat like a duck
That will call for good luck

Don't be dirty like a pig
lest apart from meat,you become useless yet,big

Be time conscious like the hen
She knows how and when

Don't be stubborn like a goat
lest you always bring troubles to your throat
Form: Lyric

Bed rotting’s not quite the right term this time

Found myself doing my damndest to sleep through the day again.
Wake up, pull the wool over my eyes, block out the world, repeat.
Certainly not a positive omen (what with Halloween and November 9th),
so I force my eyes open,
if only to scroll for an hour or two
(anything to keep from slipping).
There’s a man on my screen,
dark bearded with an oaken guitar in his hands.
I listen to his sweet,
wine-dark voice,
and it begins to enter my bones.
Fills the holes in the marrow with the base warmth of love and life
and as the sun breaches my blinds,
everything becomes okay again.
Or maybe it’s just easier to breathe.
Wake up.
Wake up.

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