Long One piece Poems
Long One piece Poems. Below are the most popular long One piece by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long One piece poems by poem length and keyword.
From west-to-east they daubed the plains with dark
The groans of horns and hooves to shake the earth
All grass and grounds that thus did bear their mark
And naught would be their doom if meant for worth
Brave men with skin burned red did cull for strength
With skill and bows, though not to waste one piece
Yet they nor prey could know what would be wrought
By those with hides more white, and sacks to fleece
Those men from 'cross the sea killed with no cause
And all that filled their gaze was raped and marred
Not once through all the waste did they give pause
Nor stop to dress the wounds of what they'd scarred
Not long, to teach those beasts and men of red ...
The pall and price of greed, so cold ... and dead.
~ 7th Place ~ in the "Because It's A Tuesday 140 - 140 Sonnet Cash Prize" Poetry Contest, William Kekaula, Judge & Sponsor.
* Syllables = 10/line, 140 total, words = 140 total, counted at HowManySyllables.com. *
( "Tatonka" is the Native American word for buffalo or bison )
It’s an anxious time
of life to see
me through where I can’t
vision a future.
She writes eloquent
and captures a heart
but I scare myself
with its effects.
Would I hope upon
hope its true
my love may burn
but a passion nullified
by a brain mummified
is resisting too strong.
It has boiled over
It will bubble through
It’s power will increase
with a heart molded
in one piece.
Please love me
please hold me
please hug me
and never let go
envelope me in
warmth
and my warmth will
light your soul
will burn your passions
will take you away
if I could only
make your heart pound.
Dissolve the Ego
Like ready for life moulded souls,
Trapped in flesh with mortal
brand,
Labelled with name, a social number,
Yet with sanctioned control
by hidden hand
Not necessarily so, it isn't you,
We journey through life
to experience death,
But what one really
- ought now to do,
Is to kill and dissolve the insipid ego..
All this from the reactive mind smothering man's
drive to perceive more and know,
Yes, that takes presidence now,
in this material realm,
From such perception an obvious limitation,
It is so necessary once lost,
but then found
Attention on and to one's self
so then the shedding of
our body's name
There is not really one identity,
all is one part of a greater whole,
And one would instinctively know,
If we'd only refused to have
- taken on this role
What on earth is in a name?
It most certainly isn't YOU
- that's for sure,
There's no one else to copy
And so therefore,
no one else to blame
The confusion being
I am not this.. this is not me..!
A tonal sound for any given label
So then do not be bound
by notion of a price tag
or in fact at all
- by any branded fable
Of course there is much more to know,
Recall one's own ability
For we are all one piece of,
A blueprint of spirituality
Of origin and of Source
Get rid of name forever,
Like a stream absorbing minerals,
to recover, then to see
Resolve, commit to this they said,
Ironically move back to self
And disgard all infatuation
for names are labels
- all but sound,
Of a tone, an endearing frequency.. that we once had
To move higher, back to God our source,
We intentionally only really need to pay attention as we grow,
be certain of and for, within the good and its pure force,
Remember this - emancipation comes..
Once we - Dissolve the Ego.
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
December 28th 2020
During covid 19 lockdowns
The PoetTree
Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared
My scrapbook fell and I watched it fall apart
as it tumbled to the floor
scattering yesterday's wishes
of emotional letters from lovers
and photographs taken
from another time, another place...long ago
My weathered wrinkled fingers picked them up
one piece at a time, so I could reflect
while I looked at each one intently
so I could remember
the times when I ran through life
like I was running with the bulls
on a cobbled stone street
filled with abundant energy and life
these memories of wishes
kept as silent precious reminders
of a life lived and wishes kept
I placed them all back in the book
then ran my hand across its cover with a smile
2:00 AM
One last drink
A glass half filled with ice
Golden liquid with the bite of a dragon
That glass has destroyed a million dreams
It has made even the lamest idea sound like genius
It has made even the nicest man curse
I was warned about starting a drink at 2:00 AM
It is always the strongest of the night
You may never know what you did
You may end up in bed with what’s her name
You may just end up in jail for the night
There is one thing that every man has taught me
One piece of wisdom that has saved the planet
If you are in a crowded bar look carefully at the clock
Study the hands and where they are
Beware the hour of two
Order your last drink before the cock crows twice
You may survive the night
You may not remember what happened
You may still end up in jail
But just remember what I say
Nothing good ever happens after 2:00 AM
You’re a mess, you’re all over the place,
Your colours just don’t look right.
You look back to front, not neat and tidy,
You look like you’ve been in a fight.
How about we sit down and think about things,
And get back to a healthy state of mind.
Let’s put all of you together again, in one piece,
All of your colours should be aligned.
Just a quick brush here, a flick of the wrist there,
Your face is cute and beautiful.
Then a little massage on the soles of your feet,
And your joints are now so moveable.
Now, a shimmy on your sides, a wiggle of your hips,
And your core looks exactly as it should.
A few more moves and, tada, there we go,
You look happy and healthy and good.
Your reds all match, your blue is together,
Your white, yellow and green are in sync.
In this moment, I can sit here with you, my Rubik’s cube friend,
Enjoying a celebratory drink.
A Deep Dream
Monday night, tiredness drove my dreams,
and the previous day’s night, oh the night’s write
Sleep, sleep, and sleep in the deepest deepness
I was just in my mind, my body was cloudy far
And came a lot of people to me from the other side
I just think, about living past life in the mirror side
But it was real, absolutely pure conscious perception
Fantastic friendly faces, wisdom, and love from times
I see them in my vigilant dream, cristal messages
In my favorite cemetery at a monumental tombstone
In the cemetery. Near the old church exists a monument
Noble, giant, typically aristocratic, I know it well from life
A woman stood beside this huge tombstone. Incredible
A fantastic lady. Tall, slim, otherworldly beautiful shape
She was wearing a black, one-piece beautifully woven
mid-length skirted dress. I have never seen such beauty
Snow white marble skin, black semi-curly mid-length hair
Wasp waist, graceful hands. Perfect geometric harmony
Demonic deep black top intelligent eyes, aristocratic face
She just watched me
Then in this dream, I saw more faces, all of them were clear
Old people, like grandparents, ladies and men, one by one
and others, and a young boy. He was very strange, interesting
Fully dark brown eyes, like a blind, but with a super look, intelligence
I love this cemetery, I walk there sometimes and often
I cross this graveyard, and churchyard to go to Welsh Harp
Directed this way, I love everybody here, my prayers go far
In the cemetery and in front of the thousand years old church
And thousand years old the graveyard too, a real living place
It is good to walk here
It is good to be here
It is good to live here
It was
A real dream
Chet lived creepily in the back of the tavern, hidden.
No one bothered him. He lived vicariously through the others.
The pretty barflies who flitted in chatting too loudly.
Flipping their hair. He had a salacious appetite, saw them all naked.
They sometimes waved to his corner when they were drunk.
He did not think they knew he was perpetually eyeballing them.
Unclothing them one piece of clothing at a time in his mind.
Uncovering their secrets was easy; they shared way too much.
His voyeuristic tendencies got him ostracized and secluded from family.
His mixoscopia and scoptolagnia confusing the prissy Baptists he knew.
He might go Catholic, he had heard they were more open. Nah!
Religion was not for him. His religion was this bar and those bar flies.
One of them was throwing her head back now, laughing loudly.
He would dream of her tonight. He smirked at the eroticism she brought him.
She turned and waved. If he was forty years younger, he would be over there.
But he knew better so he stayed put, swigging back his beer.
“Restoring beauty from decrepitness
fulfills the heart with treasured happiness.”
_by Poet
Decrepit was a table we once owned,
part of our living room so long ago,
left in the home, my Dad, in time, had sold.
After my Mom had passed, he let it go
with other matching pieces, later sold
by the new owners, barring this one piece
left at the curbside, mixed with other trash.
I saw this, and my heart could find no peace.
Dilapidated, shabby, and decayed
our antique table, which my Mom adored,
was left unguarded in a leaky shed-
abandoned and exposed- so poorly stored.
I placed it in my trunk and drove away
to meet a friend with fine restoring apt.
I knew he'd make it look as good as new;
decrepit to a polished look, adapt.
It soon appeared as I remembered it;
restored into a lovely work of art.
I do embrace it as my mother's gift.
This heirloom has returned to never part.
Let the breath of heaven flow with grace,
As the gathering of angels fills this place.
Soaring high, both near and wide,
His Name, our banner, strength and guide.
Refine the oil, let its glow be bright,
Let our lives shine with newfound light.
The table cleared, a meal prepared,
The taste is unknown, yet richly shared.
New strength will rise, our souls renew,
As chaff falls off, our eyes see true.
Soar higher still, both far and near,
Review the vision, make it clear.
Let God reveal the one piece so bold,
That makes the new vision to unfold.
Stop and see the enemy’s sway,
Unusual creatures bring delay.
Yet God brings joy to light our stay,
His Hand will guide, His truth will stay.
Topple the foes who seek control,
Let revival sound where your feet stroll.