Long Origin Poems
Long Origin Poems. Below are the most popular long Origin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Origin poems by poem length and keyword.
"Give Me Your Tired" posted 7 Jun 2021
i'd join the morning person's club except their meetings start before noon
early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and beat
they make clocks to tell me when to get up i need one to tell me why
a bicycle cannot stand up by itself because it is two-tired
my wife got tired of hearing my zodiak puns it taurus apart
teen's concept of an early bird: one who wakes up at the break of noon
[humor attribution - all humor found online, sources unknown]
"Just Asking (part III)" posted 14 Jun 2021
wow, is that an optical illusion or am I just seeing things?
why does the sun on the raisin bran cereal box wear sunglasses?
why are wise men and wise guys considered opposites of each other?
when styrofoam companies ship their product what do they pack it in?
if swimming is so great for the figure then how do you explain whales?
how does the person who drives the snowplow get to work in the morning?
[humor attribution - all humor found online, sources unknown]
"It's All In A Name" posted 21 Jun 2021
i visited a new dating website in Prague they call it ~ Czech Mate ~
there's a new contraceptive on the market it's called ~ i kid you not ~
my vote for the best beauty parlor name of all time ~ curl up and dye ~
good name for an ultra-conservative fashion boutique ~ clothes minded ~
maybe you shouldn't name your brand new restaurant ~ eater's digest ~
perhaps this plumbing company is worth a gamble ~flush or full house~
[humor attribution: #2 and #5 Edmo Snord, #3 and #6 are actual company names I've seen, others found online of unknown origin]
"Random Brain Guano (part III)" posted 28 Jun 2021
children are hereditary if your folks had none, neither will you
the best remedy for your bad memory is milk of amnesia
buy your valentine a bikini it's the least you can do for her
i tried making a belt out of watches it was a big waist of time
my toddler kept chewing on electrical cords so I grounded him
sometimes Bigfoot is confused with Sasquatch Yeti doesn't seem to mind
“The only light from a sword have sheltered me from despair
The balance of reality and dreams, welcomes nothing to compare
Dreams were afterall the insanity of one’s desire
Made to believe moments before the awakening hour
This belongs the true origin since the fall of the humans
The curse brought from our love to cause The Ancients total domination
Moments since loved, to love to then unlove
I give to you only truth afar from lies to serve”
{Years of yore, a time somewhence atween the Holy War
A prophecy is soon to begin its outcry once more
Humanities who were forged to serve the Battalion Goddess were dying away
Prayers in blood were dis-spirited souls praying to live another day
Yet despairs to the Heavens never seem to be heard
Where forth the Battalion Goddess, where is the Goddess of Word?
The Goddess who mortals seek hope in, bears one in many prophecies
The one to lead till the end of war, to rid the Ancients of miseries
However, the DarkLord Alkzadrius, only grew ever stronger each dusk
Every other night to those who live, only promises to be last
There was then this one night, in the ruins throughout The Ancients
A brightest of light shone from a seemingly farthest of distance
Two figures emerge from beyond, one a woman and another a man
And the very might of the moment itself, have had evil dissolving into the sands
Every other minions who came in their way were vanquish
Even spells and curses cast upon the terrain had discreetly vanish
Sensing victory for the night, mortals around raise their swords and fought
Yet the battle were already won at hearts without so much a thought!
It was raining a subtle when dawn finally arrive
That day, every mortal to witness the birth had survive
Humanities rejoice in triumph to the Champions of the lands
Peace being the one hope for all time, was only just a matter of when
The prophecy remains to be true… prayers were heard
Evermore so, mortals reunited to serve once more the Goddess of Word
Every battle were won, wherever the Champions of the Word were to walk
In time, they were feared by most every minions of the Darklord
Alkaiya, the name enchanted by the people for the mistress of War
Being the one who beholds the Bow of the Word hence fore
And the Knight of the Word who has without a bearing name
Who wield the Sword of Sin where evil is nay to remain}
Aurora stood at the gravesite close to Robert’s casket on the bier
“Look at her, why I’ve yet to see a tear”
The lady whispered to the other so Aurora could hear
“Her dress is disrespectful; it’s a heartless thing to wear
“My heart bleeds for her husband lying there”
This was Robert’s favorite dress and he always used to say
“Aurora, wear it for me when I ‘go away’
If you care and I know you do you’ll dare!
Aurora, promise me please no tears
We’ve known this moment was coming for almost two years.”
Aurora saw a man appear under the oak tree on the knoll
It was Robert walking in an unhurried stroll!
He used the “royal wave” he liked to imitate
Aurora repeated it in reverse, she didn’t even hesitate
She saw and felt him there emotionally reacting
Intellectually realizing “this can’t be happening!”
Staring at each other across the expanse of lawn
Sharing a last loving communication not as two but one
Robert blew her a kiss and walked out of sight
Trembling wildly, Aurora fought to stay upright.
A solitary tear fell from Aurora’s eye, she felt it descending
In slow passage down her cheek carving a groove blistering
Stories abound about this unique and mysterious solitary tear
Report it happens infrequently, only every several years
How or why the tear finds its mourner cannot be explained
The tear’s origin and source has yet to be discovered or named.
It’s said that a person’s intensity of inexpressible feelings
Make the tear appear by their profound grieving.
Aurora, like others, is disorganized and unfocused following Robert’s death
Making endless adjustments, trying to catch a breath
One day she touches the scar on her cheek made by that solitary tear
Her mind clears and it becomes an amazing day without confusion or fear
Salvation and comfort take many forms if you pray
Especially if you believe what God imparts in His way
She finally understands that Robert’s soul and spirit were not lost to her
And that living isn’t meant to be a meaningless blur
Robert rejoiced in living and in his love for her taught her to feel the same
They had priceless moments together more than she could count or name
And she starts recalling all the memories they made while husband and wife
Who’s to say what or whom finally brought Aurora back
And gifted her with a tender and loving renewal of her life.
The word sombrero in Spanish was made
from Late Latin origin, meaning shade.
Predating Mexican type of headwear
that’s commonly presupposed, instead they’re
more generally hats designed with brim.
Therefore the galaxy’s wide-ranging rim,
through pareidolia’s visual drift
causing our human perception to shift,
gave it to stargazers sombrero guise
as seen in Virgo’s sidereal skies.
Hence nickname ‘Sombrero’ has taken hold
with globular clustered stars in its fold
which swarm quite abundantly ‘round the core.
Its technical tag is M One O Four
From Earth we perceive it almost edge-on,
a factor inducing some to hedge on
whether the galaxy, like Milky Way,
is spiral or has an elliptic splay
or might be a hybrid blending the two,
a question left hanging from earthly view.
It’s said to be fifty thousand light-years
across, roughly thirty million from spheres
where we dwell, with ten times as many groups
of star clusters globular as the troops
in Milky Way’s multitudinous realms—
such grandeur galactic indeed o’erwhelms—
which orbit in circular halo’s verge.
Aye myriad worlds for life to emerge!
Dust lanes birthing stars about it are wed,
ringed paths poetic for dreamers to tread.
A white dwarf companion perhaps may be
midst all the clusters of huge stellar spree.
If wonders abound in this ‘hat’ on high,
how many more lie beyond earthly eye?
While one must not lose sight of doings here,
someday human antics will disappear.
When miseries render our stance downcast
why not gaze above at the cosmos vast
whose infinite fathomlessness steadfast
shall troublesome worries ever outlast?
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * *
Image and info ~ Hubble mosaic of the majestic Sombrero Galaxy…
Image explanation ~ NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope has its eye on the Sombrero galaxy, Messier 104 (M104), which has a white, bulbous core encircled by the thick dust lanes comprising the spiral structure of the galaxy. As seen from Earth, the galaxy is tilted nearly edge-on. This galaxy was named the Sombrero because of its resemblance to the Mexican hat. It lies at the southern edge of the rich Virgo cluster of galaxies and is one of the most massive objects in that group, equivalent to 800 billion suns. The galaxy is 50,000 light-years across and is located 30 million light-years from Earth.
Can a man – all alone - foist a god upon his fellows
Even if it’s only himself
And they his subjects
G.. is Akbar!
Does the muezzin from the minaret of Qoutoub-Minar
look up or
down to the illiterate savant emperor
whose newly-ordered cosmos
much as Tamerlane and Genghis Khan's blood
mixed gods
invented the Gysin-Burroughs cut-up and fold-in method
a cornucopian chimera
shi'ite-sunnite-kharidjites
hindu/buddhist-jain
confucian-taoist/zoroastrian
orthodox-christian/judaic
saivite-vaisnavite
mahayanist-theravadite
shintoist-zen-chan
agnostic-atheist
A…. is Great!
In the begining there was no VERB for him
In the end
from
"brahmana" Himalayas to the "asurya" Deccan
from
Ghazna and Kabul to the spent chugged mouth of the Ganges
where bloomed the Allah-Upanishad
One common language
One uncommon religion
One classless society
One mutually nourishing art
One scientific quest
and the sweet music of friendly disputation
within then the world’s vastest book and art collection
though knowingly
took to wife an Hindu princess
chose his prime counsellor from among the Brahmin élite
where within hearing distance lithesome nymphs bathed in scented milk
his victoriously wearied warrior limbs back from punitive expeditions
through Panipat Delhi Agra Punjab Gwalior Ajmer
Gujarat Bengal Sind Orissa Baluchistan Ahmadnagar Kashmir
Khandesh
to circumscribe the sub-continent
a Ceasar at the court of Fatehpur-Sikri
Akbar is ___!
Who would parse and complete or conclude the syllogism
For « One » who dared abolish the jiziyah
Note: Jalal ud-Din Muhammad Akbar (1542-1605), the third Mughal Emperor, edicted that muezzins should herald the rising of the sun by the call: Allah-u-Akbar!
The « jiziyah » , a word of Arabic origin, meaning a tax levied on non-Muslims who wished to conserve their own property, and imposed by the Moghul sovereigns – on and off - in India, was abolished by Akbar in his seventh year of accession to the throne.
©: T. Wignesan, March 13, 1992 (from the sequence/collection: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent")
Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, Americans, and the world:
In the crucible of revolution, our forefathers etched their pledge—
a bold testament inscribed not solely in ink,
but in the quiet, relentless pulse of divine dependence.
It is as if the ink itself carried whispers
of a celestial covenant,
affirming divine Providence
into the very marrow of liberty.
Yet, as time past,
present battles won,
and future problems solved,
liberty's nation absolved themselves
from any responsibility
to the Providence from whose
sovereign ties
freed them from foreign foes.
And man's purpose became his own.
Hear this
If our purpose is in just us,
we will find we have lost ourselves,
encased in the cells of just-ice.
For if our forefathers found it requisite
to declare our nation's independence by
recognizing their dependence on the
"Laws of Nature and Nature's God"
beyond the limits of
mankind's powerful facade,
facading the source of
our country's origin,
our homeland's dominion,
foraging a jurisdiction of humanity alone,
thereby ascending mortality's throne
above the divine --
making mankind superior to the
"Supreme judge of the world,"
a position our forefather's forbade
"appealing... [In] rectitude...of [their] intentions"
to a God they believed in,
a declaration sovereignty -
bowed in solemnity,
proclaiming “with a firm reliance on the
protection of divine Providence,"
a dependence on a God they
entrusted their dependence to.
Who are we to say any different?
What difference does it make
if we believe in God or ourselves?
As the good word says,
"Shall the axe boast itself against him
that heweth therewith? or shall the saw
magnify itself against him that shaketh it?
As if the rod should shake itself against
them that lift it up, or as if the staff
should lift up itself, as if it were no wood."
For Godhood is to create,
and man was created by God.
And should man boast himself beyond
Him who spawned ages beyond ages,
he shall find himself his brother's pawn,
despondent, disheartened and disappointed,
foraging for the framework
of freedom our forefathers foraged,
overwhelmed by the damage
of a fallen nation who failed
to hear the caution within
the clarion calls of its creator.
This is a warning
from neighbor to neighbor.
I rather watch a kestrel to see
Her swoop and swirl
The skies invisible maze
To feed the inhabitants of her nest
Her milk of gratitude
Morning begins with a bright darkness
And the beckoning beaks for food
There is a wind ruffled mood
Yawing the feathers of the breast
Dawn is a ransom for the truth
Her flight negotiates
The billowing whirlwind
Of dust
Settled in the bowl of expectation
It is the African way.
Courage cannot wear shackles
When the protest comes
This transition
Have shaken superstructures
Not roots, but leaves
Any grafted branch can bear
We did not invent this way
This democracy
Churning chaos out of selfishness
This way of bridging men's hope
This inclusion that is exclusive
This decomposition of old bargaining
Of parables under ancient trees
Strange shifts happen
When we disrobe our cloth
Baring ourselves of familiar primitives
Was not the old ways good enough
Why did we not transform it
While the time was transforming us
Into spectacles
Since we did not want to be invisible still
Will we transform what we
Have borrowed
Into a resemblance of our sense
Of equality, belonging and value?
The base fumbles into sectors
Carved by streets intersecting villages
Divided by self interests
More than any division of our origin
We who came from Jamaica
Barbadoes, Trinidad
And Guyana
Leaving Elmina, Shama, and Sekondi behind
Cattled in the coral that was not pearl
Permitted by a sympathy of the Unites states
Came here forming a new state
Out of forgotten memories
Of lost addresses and broken grief
Of kinship disillusionment
Called this Liberia
Clothing the construction of autonomy
With the identity of freedom.
Is it surprising then this tension
This fractious existence
In a dark forest of genocide
That each sit not well with self as stranger
For this group have no social memory
Beyond the coming of the ships
Until a common bond is forged
From the sorrow of years of fire
To form a new collective identity
Nothing speaks to the deep insecurity
Where there is a need for belonging
Like the suckle of the milking breast
Soft on the flesh of the tongue
With kindness
Telling us our faults
Teaching us to be brothers again
Telling us how to feel the humanity
In our forgotten hearts
Straining to build out of the pain.
Let me ride upon the crest of an aquatic wave, to spin and
Twist within the rippling tides, of the water spheres deepest
Ocean, allow this land creature to become as one, a liquid
Creature of complete fluidity, flowing with the currents under
Tows beneath the Mediterranean sun!
Liquefaction’s child of heaven’s tears, collecting in the ionosphere,
The shards of shattered meteorites, melting amongst the heated
Entry point of the earth burning atmosphere!
I’m just a day dreaming earth being, an inspirational beach
Comber of alternate thought, set adrift within the sails
Of human imagination, this illumined castaway of the
Enlightened, wishing to be part of something larger
Than the total some of my own physical make-up!
Let me be the thundering storm ushering the lightening
Flash to rock the timeless shore, beyond the infinite
Seas of reality, the sounding clash of the everlasting
Light echoing amongst the heavens vast divides,
Nay I’m just a humble mortal, inspired by the powers
Of beauty, a poet captured within the moment of
The rocking swell of a higher master’s masterpiece
Of utter perfection!
Let the rolling rock of the ages slide downwards
From the rocky mountain tops high, ever moving,
Smoothing its sharpened edge until it is perfectly
Rounded at its journey’s end, no moss shall I
Gather, for the rambler of humanities soul’s remains
Always In constant motions wake, this pondering
Drifter of life itself, wandering why I exist!
Let me be reflections after shock shooting at super
Sonic speed, slamming against an orbiting giant of
The universal realm, bouncing in a planetary ricochet,
Hell bound to return from mine own origin point of
Divine intervention, for it is here on earth I’m entrapped!
Let me feel the winds breathe of total freedom against
My bare exposed flesh, to become a spirit being set adrift,
An elemental child without form or shape, just a whispering
Echo blowing upon the breeze of the timeless air.
Oh I’m a spiritual foundling, seeking the meaning of my own
Existence, a motion of emotion, clinging to the mental framed
Shell to which I’ve been born, but the world is for the inspired
So here I’ve found my small niche in this great big universe,
A writer, a dreamer, and the poet bard of my own inner
Heart!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
.
Countdown to *****sapiens extinction
predicted millenniums in past
ordained but never occurred December 21
two thousand and twelve after common era
whereby catastrophic spark
detonating inferno incinerating blast
eradicating extant flora and fauna
activating bereft hegira
with no means to interrupt the die
since the dawn of civilization cast,
but last minute reprieve granted.
Impossible mission to escape ominous
predetermined fate of human rat race,
nor turn back hands of time
with origin of species on clock face
thus ticking closer to hour of doomsday
without faith to brace
allowing, enabling and providing Gaia
to redeem terrestrial space
vestiges of teeming billions soon erased
criminal minds without evidence traced
forcefully relinquishing simians
planetary stranglehold amazing grace
proffering tabula rasa
for another dominant species to claim the place.
Sirens promulgate emergency impending
toward inescapable cataclysm
yet no place to run or hide
lest one boards a rocket light-years away
which makes suspense thrillers
birthed by John Grisham
enviable plot to keep
total Earth's destruction at bay.
Matthew Scott Harris, a lifetime America Online
meme bur hastens to convey dire
crisis sparking to offer electric nom de plume
a papa who did help sire
deux darling daughters,
now grown into young gals
yet for ages hive stung
with hurt early, whence fatherhood did fire
meow n childhood's end fostering people
strangers even fork getting this communication,
per S0S sprinkled with auk shucks corny,
egret - letting opportunities take flight aspire
now pleasures soft as gossamer feather bedding
down play hardened angst riddled psyche, where ire
Ronny gully stubbornly thrives
amidst adversity as father time spins gyre
row scope at greased lightning speed,
intimating with dead reckoning to hire
grim reaper, who whiz patient as Job,
and exemplary at ridding mire
and muck bogs down this dada robbing
existence with joie de vivre, where funeral pyre
doth flickr-beckoning GoDaddy, cuz
Juno I haint gonna hear angelic choir
or equivalent enlightenment re:
home sweet home, this atheist doggedly tire
so haim trying keep sea legs
one step ahead of tipping point
envision self pitched into abyss -
thus finally ends discombobulated wire.
“Good Morning! I know you are busy. Will you stop for a while for an interview?”
Sir, what do you want to know? If only you are keen,
And do not look at me with prejudice, I shall explain,
How I ended up here and tell you my whole story_
The story of my journey from the cliff to the plane.
“Yes, I know you are a traveller, tell me all about it. But before that, I wish to know about your origin and background.”
I was part of a big rock, so static without motion.
I used to watch birds in flight on feathered wings,
Going from one end to the other, merrily singing,
Buoyed up by the force of the wind as on swings.
Like them I longed to be free and roaming
But knew I was cradling just a fanciful whim.
I slept most of my life with my dream tucked in my heart.
As time rolled by, my dreams and fancies grew dim.
It was then a tremor shook the very face of the earth,
Loosening my mother boulder from her strong hinge.
She moved and rolled down from the great heights,
On the way a chip got broken, in pain I did twinge.
Thus, I was born. Painfully, alienated from my mother,
I felt so orphaned and lay silent in a dark corner,
Lost and hungering like a dream waiting to wake up.
But my grief gave way to joy, no more I was a mourner.
“It sounds so interesting. How did it all happen? Please tell me…..”
Seeing me lying dejected and despondent, a small stream
Took pity on me and carried me along.
I enjoyed my ride and never more I was sad.
Now to a wider world, joyfully I belong.
Freed from all chains, I am out to view life and enjoy.
I stay in nature’s bosom, free to saunter wherever I wish.
Never feeling the need to pitch my tent, like a gipsy,
I travel along with the stream, with a merry swish.
“So glad to know that your life has taken such an unexpected turn. Now a last question.How do you respond to the popular saying- ‘A Rolling Stone gathers no moss.’”
Sorry, I have nothing to comment. Let men see it that way,
Enjoy life is my creed, my song is the song of liberty.
Leaving all cares and sorrows behind, like a tramp I stroll,
Taking turns and twists, sometimes cascading down in endless novelty.
“Thank you for stopping by to tell the story of your life and sharing your views and aspirations on life”