Long Outstretch Poems
Long Outstretch Poems. Below are the most popular long Outstretch by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Outstretch poems by poem length and keyword.
A QUEST TOUCHED BY HEAVEN
Treading towards an immortal search
a mortal soul stood begins the quest.
Crossing deep sea and burning desert sand
down the wild and civilized land,
soul driven by zest will so grand.
Right and left battle: a door to growth and anguish
Life still wriggles for habitable breath hiss
Shuddering fears may impregnate decline
staggering, falling, hurting but LIVING!
Teardrops shed a lance or rose to the heart.
Prayers a rumble to steps roaring zeal
rave gaits thud though imperfect
Your lit of melodious merciful grace
presages treasure drafts of redemption.
Breakages had caused falls bending spirits
yet, these also caused cries of feverish hopes
frightened but with Your heavenly touch
Am a mortal but siren-like singing hymns of salvation.
In the ocean expanse of gloomy sky,
my heart -a white pigeon craving to fly high.
I strive to reach outstretch stars
Sprouting lovelier even when rain arrives.
Singing my lifesong with side-sways,
enjoying God's gift of life today.
(c)Olive Eloisa
1:41pm
September 18, 2014
Inspired by:
Psalm 147:11
the LORD delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love
Sponsor Justin Bordner
Contest Name Divine Intervention
2nd place.. :) to God be the glory..
Be kind to all my fallen failures.
Even when I’ve burnt my house down?
Even when I’ve broken homes in two?
Even when I am guilty of misbehavior?
I’ve experienced downward spirals mangled
Everyone deserves an upward trajectory
Keep my wings up at a shallow angle
Easy raptors ride the thermals in glory
After guilt weighs us down, tales begin
Higher and higher altitude with gratitude
Compassion in despair stretches its wings
Forgive my fallen soul, I have no aptitude
Kindness and laughter have left with my son
Left alone with a house of depression’s craft
My sinister wing broken weighs a ton
Keep both outstretched waiting for updrafts
It’s not tenderness that gets me churning
It’s the warmth bringing me to mid-flight
I spiral knowing the terrors of falling
Wait with kindness till I reach new heights
Yes, I’ve burned my house down so blue
But, ashes rise when there is smoke
Yes, I’ve broken my son’s home in two
But, there is peace in two nests revoked
I wait for strength to outstretch my arms
When I’m alone I should paddle up in gambit
With a choice to rise above despair’s charm
A shallow angle above zero can break orbit
***
1 Corinthians 13:4
“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude.”
The Thief of Time
We arrive in the sun; it’s warm and so bright
We throw down our bags and go out in the light.
We are kissed by the breeze rustling through our hair
As our cheeks blush in the sun, we are willing to share.
It surrounds us and warms us, freckles pepper the skin
In the brightness and warmth we are still standing in.
Not a minute to waste before the sun sets
We stand pulling coats off, and our arms we outstretch.
The days are before us well that’s what we think
Before long though we see the first days sun sink.
It comes around quick it rises the next morn
One day gone a new one is born.
All too quick the seventh morning is here
The holiday is ending that much is clear.
We waited so long to be kissed by the sun
To unwind and relax and to have some good fun.
The time is gone we feel robbed, there was not any
The clock stole it away the days were not many.
Its over where did it go we didn’t get to do much
Just enjoyed each others company and food and such and such….
Pulling and pushing and dancing up and down
Like monkeys no one is watching but the behaved crowd
Who paid to expect what they came to see and get their moneys worth
In a humble and normative way as the rest of their fellow neighbors
Would brag about what places to visit and crave
The onlookers are consumers who come out during the day
Only when time allows them away from their computer and
Obligations and time with their families off the clock
And race against time to outstretch the day’s moments into
Lasting memories they rush to create
And be in the moment somehow
At the same time they wish to obscure and automate
With their own helpless hands and hearts they give their all
Of all they have to give to what they’re allowed to predict
And in these moments they plan for themselves and everyone
Else that they love and care about enough to sit down
With and talk as if time stopped ticking
Oh wouldn’t it be a dream of us in a world
That kept no clocks, timecards or mortgages to bear.
S - P - R - I - N - G
Ah! Harsh cold winter must be tired,
his grip weakening, he breathes his last.
The frowning skies finally crumble fast
revealing downy blue clouds that waltz
The sun blows kisses of shine--- like a rainfall
touching, caressing but melting adagio
the white icy coats among branches...
The blossoms sultry strip to loosen their curves
then upon naked arms of trees curls
the color green trembling with symptoms of spring.
Birds twiddle free to sound like thrums.
Evergreen trees duet as they whistle
to calm tunes of nippy breeze.
All around a choir blushing fountain hues
of brown, red, pink and yellow.
Animals long-hiding from hugs of frost
now stands. They burst with grins and jolts--
like squirrels bouncing up and down.
Butterflies outstretch wings flutter by!
Snow that clogs and plugs finally weeps--
running dry with the heat rising slow on air.
It stirs sweet liquid pearls
to tip-toe on leaves and petal's swells.
Buzzing bees chase fresh floating nectar...
Lured, they dance on merry-go-round
in the warm bosom of smiling sunshine.
Coats and boots all pack and rolled away,
chuckles and giggles tickle the daytime flair
as little children prance to do some plays.
_____________________________________________
POEM OF THE DAY -- JANUARY 07, 2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Seasons
Placed 1st
©O.E. Guillermo
06:49 pm, January 01, 2015
by turns,
going up
and down,
lacking
precise equilibrium;
life is...
but a seesaw.
sometimes
we rise.
sometimes
we fall.
when
you find yourself
squatting
on the down end,
never mind
the brooding gray clouds
hovering
overhead.
do not
disembark.
do not
count yourself out.
because...
come afternoon,
sunshine
will peak through it.
you're down,
though not for long!
so, sit tight
on that seesaw,
which will
inevitably rise...
up, up, up!
and when your feet
f i n a l l y
lifts off the ground,
release
white elephants
within
to the welcoming wind.
shake off
any encumberance
on your shoulder.
outstretch
your arms
as though
you're about to fly.
taste the air
with your tongue.
taste the newfound freedom
taste life
itself.
My memories scatter, like dust of the air,
which once were more numerous than fish in the sea.
Now withered, they re-tell tales of lost youth.
At times my memories congeel and fragment,
so much so,
that I label myself untrustworthy.
I feel an emptyness that my mouth can't quantify, nor words express.
Like my soul is fleeting, ready to leave the sack of bones it hopelessly occupies.
People say that growing old is a curse,
but it's not the outward complexion that grieves me so.
Rather the rattle as my marbles drop and my memories lie in tatters.
I'm scared when the people in white coats barge in.
who say they're 'here to help' , but proceed to strip me of my my dignity,
and use pills to make me helplessly compliant.
Maybe cruel karma has punished me fast.
For little did I empathise, until I truly knew,
what it's like to be a burden, societie's disregard.
And ever shall I wish that humble soul,
will see me not as useless, but marvel at my tales.
And one day, I pray, that someone will,
outstretch to me the hand of compassion.
08.19.2020
I saw vultures circling above like
seasoned acrobates looking around
to see the message the dessert had sent.
Their black outstretch wings seeking the
heat of the day to soar using the updraft
to avoid spending their limited strength.
Looking down with marble looking eyes they
followed the familiar stench sent to them
by hot steamy winds.
Other creatures had found the dinner
the sands had prepared. Dragon-like
blue beetles, red ants and coyotes
devoured the strange looking carcass while
the one-eyed blinding sun looked on.
The giant saguaros with numerous spiny
arms stood like the Statue of Liberty trying
not to see what laid in the bleached sand.
Orange and black Gila monsters slithered
underneath their trunks.
Hairy red and black tarantulas were now
making their homes inside the tennis shoes
beside the remains.
Hungry flies were swarming around the
blacken oily creature. They were the
first to discover the carcass and had
laid hundreds of seed-looking eggs
which had grown to maturity.
Their white greasy wiggling bodies fed on
death. The desert had claimed another
item to feed the many creatures of
the wasteland.
The vultures circled closer and clumsily
landed beside the blacken mass and all
the other guests departed.
The yellow scorching sun looked on
as Border Patrol vehicles roamed the
desert to prevent unwanted guests
from seeking a better life.
Beloved,
with preposterous
persistence,
I still search
for your likeness.
Gravitating
toward every
handsome bald man,
I scan the light
that reflects
off their head,
like the globe of home.
I strive for
the sight of bushy,
frost seasoned eyebrows
and hazel eyes
defined with
laugh lines, and I
shape-shift them
to resemble yours.
I hunt for
hearty hands,
calloused and
unabashedly
bleeding from
the weed wacker's
counterattacks.
I hearken to a
Manhattan accent,
while recalling
the name of
your favorite
fruit, "our-ange."
My ears perk
at the pep of
baseball announcers,
the background
soundtrack of
your steady presence.
The scent of rum
comforts me like
your broad-chested hug.
Beloved,
another's
stubbly cheeks
lead me back to grief.
Unattainable
in this stand-in space,
is your love,
beloved.
That amiable
smile that delighted
an entire room
no longer blooms with
its fragrant welcome.
Nocturnal
is my fervent search,
without night vision.
Knuckles outstretch,
but palms clutch nothing.
Beloved, your love
is within
roaming shadows,
splattered upon
the pavement
of nightfall.
Glances of
expansive
remembrance thin,
vanishing
into fumbling
fabrications
and uncertainties.
Yet certainly you
are loved forever,
currently
unattainable
to behold.
4-11-2021
David means "beloved."
Dedicated to my dad
Charms of Nature
Noontide cordial sun immerse golden spheres
Birch and aspen leaves rhythmically quake
Susurrate deep in quietness appears
Timidly on soft earth shadow path wake
There, where nesting birds await safely perch,
While conceal sweet are their audible waft.
Cool breeze twine spider's web and bees who search
Stunning unadorned simple-ness echoes soft.
Lone senior British oak outstretch thick arm
Grasp weathered fraying pendulous tire swing;
Mid saffron blaze whilst it mingles off charm
Espy hushed cries for mortal yielding wings.
Lush meadow pigments an emerald green
Self quenching natures pulsing rapture scene.
2/9/2020