Long Organ Poems
Long Organ Poems. Below are the most popular long Organ by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Organ poems by poem length and keyword.
It is a beautifully warm and sunny day.
Here in the pleasant spring month of May.
It is the month's very first Saturday.
It is here in this place, I am to marry Elaine's daughter.
The church is full of flowers in each corridor.
The organ plays the melody of Richard Wagner.
What I see next is such a lovely sight.
My Stephanie draped in her gown of white.
She appears as a lovely delight!
Standing alongside of me,
she appears a bit misty,
as the priest begins the ceremony:
Dear family and friends of Michael and Stephanie,
we've gathered to witness these two in matrimony.
Michael, will you take this woman Stephanie to be your wife?
It was quite a long time for me to wait for this day.
However, it has arrived, and here is what I say:
You now stand before me. In your sapphire eyes I see,
a sparkling of unending love between you and me.
The joining of our hands exemplifies unity.
Symbolizing relationship in complacency.
Our universe continues to unfold endlessly.
Each star’s light shines upon us until eternity.
As we both live, they shall guide us on our life’s journey.
May we both come to share in a plentiful harvest.
As He looks down on us, and makes us forever blessed,
May we come to share happiness, until final rest.
Now mutuality is considered coalesced.
Stephanie, will you take this man Michael to be your husband?
I love you because you are special to me
In everything you do
You make me laugh
And touch my heart with your kindness
Your words expressed so lovingly
All I want to do is be near you
I want to feel your arms around me
Holding me close to your heart
Now take me on this journey
As we unite as one
For the rest of our life
To be with you
Is like music
That enters my heart
Soft and gentle in you’re loving ways
You came to me from afar
Showed me how to give love never ending
And receive it back
Completely surrendering
Tonight a thousand stars will look down on us
And Angel’s sing
Of our great love
A kiss from heaven is sent
It enters our hearts
Our souls have touched
Never to part
My love I give to you
As pure as the snow
Take it my love
It’s a gift from the heart
To remember this day
Until death do us part
By the power invested in me
by the Diocese and State's authority,
I proclaim Michael and Stephanie
in the bond of Holy Matrimony.
May you live and grow happily!
I wrote this about the recent passing of my mother, Annette. She was a rock, kind and
loving, my confidant and best friend - a Godly woman. I miss her already, deeply.
She died on January 24th, 2009 at 10:30 p.m. due to complications of a UTI that went
septic through her system, and a blood clot that formed in her foot. She suffered and
painfully fought for three weeks... she was facing multiple amputations of all her limbs
and multiple organ failure. She was only 61.
My heart was imprinted greatly with her love and I am thankful for her. She made me so
much of who I am today.
Letting Go
by Amy Swanson
Letting go
of things that I
once held dear, believed in
My soul
stripped bare
in agony, for all the world to see
Heart beats
yet
it feels so cold inside
Silence
sits like stone
in my spirit.
Life has led us
on this
journey...
but one lonely road
sought us out with furious speed;
A road that was not wanted or desired.
How can you
be so accepting?
How can you
not be angry, as I am?
How can you
... still believe?
...and how will I
ever again believe...?
I feel as though life took a wrong turn...
or someone didn't write the script correctly...
it wasn't supposed to be this way.
I weep
great sobbing tears
that threaten to rip out my very essence
The pain so sharp
like knives of ice
The judgment harsh
unfair and undeserved
Sternly....
mercilessly...
delivered.
They say that there is peace in death
but there was none
only cruel suffering
that should not have been allowed;
torment inflicted
poor bruised body
until
so still you lay...
life was no more.
I ask, "What meaning can there be?"
I strain to hear the answer
but there is no response...
only unwavering silence.
A part of me will never be the same.
Existence I now view with different eyes.
A hint of helping this wholesome Harris son
can across thru the air
Hence this poetic expression
of gratitude Matthew Scott wants to blare
And communicate my genuine
appreciation crystal clear
Toward one whose existence
more valuable to me and dear
As thee doth become older
with natural diminishment with eyes and ear
But lo…tis unproductive to fear
The diminishing sands
of mortal time as cognitive gear
Doth get clogged as well as one
or the other organ allowing ye to hear
The sound of silence echoing
memories of the past – now a blur
Akin to a warm fuzzy feeling
soft as moss or lichen – precious as a coat of fur
Which tomorrows speed faster
becoming yesterday’s lore
Mixed with trials and tribulations less or more
Thickening as starch and ever more difficult to pour
From the egged on noggin blended
into one glob kept in secret store
Perhaps comprising partially healed wounds
at your heart tore
As if a drafted soldier once
in tiptop shape now to the bone years wore
Away whet dreams housed
within myths indistinguishable from truths of yore
Though I too sometimes fret
as tempus fugit slinks away
Where methinks how the years spin
at a quicker pace each day
Inculcating me to savor each moment,
whether weather sunny or gray
Taking stock of self of natural world
as one named John Jay
Audubon, who captured pristine lands
of America as a frieze zing May
Whereby bounteous creatures
large and small at play
Until…the inundation
of settlers did slash, burn and slay
Indiscriminately - setting precedent
for Earth in a precarious balance oye vay
Whence Mother Nature
will win this global Olympic match – yet
By which time, both thyself
and ye will be long turned to ash
Descendants will be dust off
faded photos of me self
before senescence did dash
Totally unaware that me papa Boyce Brandon
with clenched and teeth did gnash
When I fought tooth and nail
and without a word did lash
Back as protestations against behavior
of mine ye disliked and found rash
With frustration spilling forth
like acidic froth that did splash
Slash and burn within,
yet kept mum no matter
from within did thrash.
I LOVE YOU TOO DAD
NO MATTER BACK IN THE DAY YE GOT MAD
YET NOW, AS A FATHER TWAS FRUSTRATION
PERHAPS FUSED WITH BEING SAD
AT MY LIFE & HARD TIMES WHEREIN
TURMOIL ROILED MORE THAN A TAD!
The very first time
my mother's healing touch
tapped my forehead,
I felt God's travelled down
here in this peculiar earth
to heal me up from the fever.
A sunken soul released out of me,
turned as rejuvenated as a fresh lemon leaf
and I touched the toes of my mother
as per God's very secret advice
from the previous night.
I wasn't a vivid worshipper of travel
until and unless I felt the presence of God
everywhere slowly trickling down
through the silver streams of time.
Time's travelled a lot, even I call it the best traveller
it's seen Jesus dying without any vice
just like a poem dies without a reader's embrace
and time's probably poured all the sobs out
freezing the moments and collecting the snaps
as if it was to unravel the malicious truth in front
of an ignorant crowd, later, very later
to repeatedly portray
the sickening death of its precious child
and people have travelled enough to size
these epic memories up in a 24 hour, "Christmas"!
It's tasted the same poison Socrates drank
for his cruel deed of renaissance
among the youth of Athens,
and yes time has travelled through
a sickening era of its huge loss
like a hollow human body without its organ!
It's seen through the ages that
the countries suffer in a subterraneous syndrome
of travelling and entering into each other's territories
to stand as the best fitted emperors
and suck the last drop of blood from its innocent folks.
Time has seen a lot,
freedom, battle, idols, ideologies,
love, hatred, blood, responsibilities
and then with God's appeasing
permission shaped itself up
to the pages of history ;
Now history serves as the best traveller!
and we, humans know the utilization of books.
I find the books as avid tourists
as they skillfully make rounds of the world
and then coalesced with the satisfying words, curious pages to turn as books.
And all these existential procedures,
God's evolutionized in as many forms as he could
to insert the mesmerizing journey
of this universe since its very creation.
We, humans aren't except of the flow,
each and every moment we breathe,
we travel, as a traveller voyages from a place to another like we do through
the voyages of emotions.
The next time if someone asks,
"Are you a traveller?"
Nod your head, singing the lullabies of a nomad.
~ ©storytellersuchismita
I had an epiphany today
The first one in a long time
Such an interesting organ the brain
So many studies
Yet no one knows how consciousness really works
And if it even abides in the brain at all
My brain has been broken
And I alone am the only one who can fix it
Broken people
Not having it all together people
Don't always realize this
Or they have traveled so far down the rabbit hole
They no longer want to
Which leads me to my epiphany
Not only is my reality not yours
It does not need to be
I cannot describe the pureness I felt in that moment
The freedom
I started to cry
It wasn't until the moment I felt those chains slip free
Did I realize they were encasing me
I had been a prisoner in my own mind
Trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be
Never realizing my own voice have been turned on mute
Suddenly the beauty that I had been blind to for weeks months years
Surrounded me
Colors bombarded my eyes even as tears flowed out of them
And the birds... ah yes the birds
They have come to represent an evil few have ever known
I think I might remember what a dove used to sound like
But the song that reaches my ears no longer bares any resemblance
To the song that reaches yours
But as of this moment I am OK with that
Because this is the life I live now
I did not choose it
It was forced upon me
My faceless enemies
These monsters had their fun
But they did not win
Because I live every moment of my life
I have never allowed it to just pass me by
And though I have not chosen the path I was forced to take
It has been my choice to rise above
With strength, integrity and empathy
Always empathy
And though I have not one bit of knowledge on how to conquer the unknown
My story will be written
So that the forgotten will know they are not alone
I will shout it from the mountains high
And though I know many will not believe
I just need enough to realize the truth
Because while I was in the vipers pit everywhere I turned
Complete darkness
I know that so much was a delusion
Yet I also know that enough of it was irrefutably true
To let me know that it was real
It only takes a spark
And although it goes against my very compassionate nature
I want to burn these Mother F***ers to the ground
09/31/2019 Rock Bottom Pick a Line any Line Poetry Contest Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
Mein kampf synonymous as a blooper
Writer of these words,
a former Lower Providence inhabitant,
who dwelled within darkest depths
of Dante Alighieri's inferno
for most of his outlandish, impish,
and devilish growing up years
witnessed microscopic scrimmage,
where spermatozoan with most forcefulness
muscled itself handedly,
magnificently, and splendidly
envision unicellular olympic competition,
yours truly swimmingly
begot during the heat
of parents being passionately fruitful
courtesy diploid erogenous frisson
between my then searingly
robust virile father and fecund mother
~ late March/early April 1958
ushered seminal moment
post ova fertilization realization
courtesy male gamete
penetrating zona pellucida
a glycoprotein layer surrounding the oocyte
triggering cell bait multiplication
subsequently yielding male
gendered offspring and sole son
hashtagged as uber twittering, snapchatting,
shutterflying super duper
cute little boy with short strawberry blond hair,
whose solitudinarian nature
became quite evident when he displayed
acute social withdrawal
upon off fish shill commencement
getting schooled as a grouper
by mister Hooper,
who made his debut
appearance on Sesame Street
November 10, 1969
as storied and staple long time resident
on above named television show
until March 18, 1983,
beloved by adults and children alike
within make believe community
(a conglomerate of real and imaginary locales)
peopled with proprietary named characters
for any of a number of humorously grotesque
glove or rod puppets and marionettes,
chiefly representing animals,
first popularized, idolized,
dramatized, capitalized, and actualized
by the children's television programme
Sesame Street (1969-) and more recently
in The Muppet Show (1976-80).
Also: a toy made to resemble one of these
ingenious brainchild of Jim Maury Henson
an American puppeteer, animator, actor,
and filmmaker who achieved worldwide
notability as the creator of the Muppets
which series originated as two pilot episodes
produced by Henson for ABC in 1974 and 1975.
Henson's shocking, sudden death occurred on May 16, 1990 of organ failure resulting from streptococcal toxic shock syndrome. An emotional memorial service was held five days later at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City.
Roman à clef tragicomedy...
overlaid with façade of fiction = Mein Kampf
No need for yours truly to dig deep,
(albeit bonafide figuratively)
by Dickens thru mine Uriah Heep,
a gnarled mass creep
ping, comprising, encompassing, glomming
abysmal existence strewn with hard times,
such that I wanna leap
out this metaphorical bleak house,
a black hole in the wall swallowing
i.e. disallowing any peep
ordinarily yawping, proliferating, flirting...
now fumfering lamely issued by keep
ping low profile super tramping cheap
trickster, our mutual
friend Matthew Scott Harris,
where lack of functioning heating unit
(think male organ if ye will)
upended, rendered, discombobulated...
scrappy body electric hominid
to experience quality sleep.
Principal reason I write
to balance and aright
unexpected largesse
(thank you dad), where
eyes suddenly got bright
and bushy tail incessantly
wagged day and night,
a sensible palliative temporarily
eased penury plight,
which cash equivalent,
viz four Benjamins alleviated quite
helpful thwarting necessity to fight
off bill collectors brandishing
armstrong lance's compelling me
to summon black knight
in shining armor lodged within white
castle amidst prickly bishop
obviously one prone easily to excite
amusing little lord Fauntleroy
groomed as heir to throne,
enthusiasm since his birth did ignite
(Aesop pose) storybook life,
where fanciful elation did take flight
buzzfeeding, droning, feasting
on par with Mister
Bumble bee in flight
sweet nectar amidst lilies of the field
analogous to stripling Adam - fine lad
eve vent chilly seeking delight.
Ah to gather rose while ye may
tis futile wishful thinking,
now at mine three
score orbitz round sun,
which libido far out at bay
prurient predilections once
spawn time wracked to lay
waste vestal virgin such as... Little Dorrit,
now... raging hormones stagnant clay
hardened, atrophied, eutrophied,
jackknifed limp bizkit
long bereft testy tickle
yar seaman quizzical,
slack jawed, and sullen at
deserted abandoned cobwebbed quay
ignored do not enter, keep out,
private property signals desiccated,
no place for Peter to take holiday
barring ingress to ply skin flute
amidst hollerin hootenanny,
perhaps convincingly explaining
welcoming Voldemort without delay.
A giant jellyfish was born
emitted from a neutron star
once on a whilom cosmic morn
amidst the stellar seas afar.
With tentacles from arcing crest,
medusa-like it hangs on high
cloudscaped with tendrils manifest
in astral sky of Gemini.
Exploding supernova yore—
whose light reached Earth so long ago
that last ice age was still at fore
and ocean levels then were low
by dint of all the ice around
compared to what they are today,
when history was oral bound
though art in caves was on display—
created nebula we see
dubbed ‘jellyfish’, made of debris
from remnant IC Four Four Three,
five thousand light-years from our spree
upon this tiny whirling world
of Man’s vaingloried destiny,
short-lived mid solar time unfurled,
in what’s to be or not to be.
If traveling at speed of light
it very well might take about
three hundred years of light-wave flight
to go across its width throughout.
The jellyfish on planet here
are oldest multi-organ group
of animals, found far and near
free-swimming often in a troop
that ocean currents might amass
together, and there is a class
immortal seeming, which can pass,
to prior stage, when foes harass.
In general, umbrella-shaped,
these creatures’ bells have trailing limbs
with stinging cells around them draped
to injure one who too close swims.
Pelagic animals, they dwell
in seas and oceans everywhere,
not all with venom to expel,
plus special senses; further they’re
adept at adaptation’s chain,
with range fantastic; by the way,
they manage well without a brain.
Could we learn from their résumé?
But back to Jellyfish in space,
a pulsar may have formed in blast,
or neutron star at rapid pace
which first burst inward, spinning fast.
The outer layers which caved in
bounced outward in that stellar scheme
of supernova with its spin
begetting radiation beam
that’s sweeping by like lighthouse ray,
perchance a beaconed message from
some bygone beings gone astray
in bleeping beats of warning drum.
Meanwhile on Earth we’re but a guest
to Mother Nature’s knowing eyes
in Goldilocks rare orbit blessed.
How sad that life Man fails to prize!
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * *
Some sources of inspiration were the following…
Article and image ~ What Spawned the Jellyfish Nebula?
When folks are young, they may feel blessed
But I coped with bullies, life felt stressed,
I started eating a lot, food always there
In theory a good thing, in my case a snare,
I ate whole boxes of doughnuts, chocolate cake too
Into my mouth, tasty pastries flew
Ate myself sick, could not disgorge
Then tried to run it off, body in a forge
Got strange symptoms, my extremities cold
Felt fatigue in the morning, I was young, but felt old
When I had a craving, to voraciously eat
In the battle of will, it was always a defeat.
The Hypothalamus is a pea shaped organ in the brain
Supposed to regulate craving, but my mark of Cain
Suppose to regulate reproductive urges too
When that kicked in, shame added to the stew
Not good or bad, food is meant to subsist
but If I went by a bakery, I could not resist
I'd pay for the delicacies, eat them standing there
People looked at me, I pretended not to care
Tried to eat bulk, solve the craving crime
In dark alleys, ate whole watermelons at a time,
If I had to buy something, I'd mail home the change
A life of privilege, led to something so strange.
Food was my master, it controlled me.
But I fasted part time, that's how I broke free.
I quieted down the enemy, now a friend
Got a second wind, a damaged man on the mend.
Got Shock Treatments, and Thorazine,
Helped with the symptoms, stopped snacks, wiped clean.
It wasn't all normal, I needed tricks for control
Trying to conquer what swallowed my soul.
The past can't be changed, but can one break the spell?
Avoid the positive feedback into hell?
You have to be selective, not clear out life's shelf
Discipline is needed for sanity and health
Not much is known about the traps in the mind
I've been in some, hope I left them behind
Should I blame myself, or blame my brain
Can any recrimination wipe out the stain?
When you're down in this life, baddies swoop with glee
Like vultures circling a wounded prey, they came for me.
They latched on, like an octopus in a marsh
I tried to tell my story, but it sounded mad, too harsh.
But it did make me think, as the iron rules kicked in
A harsh lesson learned in a world where mercy runs thin.
I should turn my back on the past, though I should not forget
My new problems are worse, but I freed my mind from the net
I sit here pondering the next move as I watch the hour slowly slips away, and chance standing in the horizon muse steadfast at me. It is that little nudge that you get when you are almost out of breath and you try to find something to hold on to but nothing is there and a tiny beetle comes along and start to sing a merry little song.
It is the little things that amuses me, like the mouse playing hide and seek in the art gallery, the spider building a web for its sadistic prey and the cock roach crawling on the wall has caused a great brawl. It only comes out when visitors are in town and starts a commotion all around.
The evening sun is just cooling down and everyone is running around; it drifts at the back of the hill and creates havoc in the street, the people are running around in a frenzy and something peculiar is disrupting my heart beat and I can hardly breath.
Sweat is dripping from my face and my head is getting hot, my clothes is soaked and my feet are burning. The water is running in the stream is warm and something below the surface of the earth is interfering with my dream, I have to go and check it out.
The beetle from the order of Coleoptera,is flying around in the tree with four hundred thousand bugs descending in the open space on thee. It’s hard exoskeleton is fashion to protect its internal organ and resist all external blow they too are getting ready for the big show.
I have traveled this path many times in the sun and rain and each time I travel it’s never the same, sometimes the journey gets longer and my heart gets heavier and chance waits patiently for you to come. It is that moment of waiting when nothing is left I begin to find myself
I have stumbled upon the “art” in me and the courage that is spread out in the ocean before me, and I begin to reason with myself. Just one more chance to go on that trip, Just one more chance to see if you really exist. Just one more chance to get it right, just one more chance to complete this sacrifice.
There is one thing standing between me and you, it is the path that you have to pass through when you close the door; meet me at the junction with a script camera and a bottle of water and you will write that story of how we cross over. Meet me at the junction and chance will take your hand.