Long Passageway Poems

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


Premium Member First Autumn Breath Parts One And Two

Dark grey first autumn breath a bone chill hint,
    summer’s sun- rash boom absconds on trailing glint,

luscious terrain brazen in hue’d rose cheek,
       hazy mountain slope a sombre damp peak,

     tint and tapestry awakened brisk fall gasp,
        dapper drift net shades spawned to grasp,

    pigment in meadow mould a gold rim beige,
   tone shift bold red, earth brown, copper rage,

sweet gum tree orange, purplish fervent die,
     to sniff katsura pink tree, charred candy sigh,

      hail harvest bountiful, heart rippling feast,
      red fire ablaze, hungry tongue wild yeast

     beetroot, turnip, parsnip, root crops galore,
         “Falls” raw lungs whiff hearty soup of yore,

             yet honey-tinged morn, fleet of foot pause,
         fades as cold plummet primes its icy claws,

   green copse shrunk, drab moon weepy tune,
      woodsy wren hoarding food in mournful croon.

      mud squelch booth on path, smog purged lair,
      wet moss splurge rinses pollen, season gulps air,
  
 spry children, spruce  grown ups, senior agers eschew,     
       the callous jolt of swift month baton swop anew,
  
 later inklings mired in blizzards, frost bite, black ice,
      has the fall as sly baptist with its soft blest vice,

 warm July sand castle bounce, blue sea wave swim,         
     consigned to wistful hark back, stark ninth month                     grim,

       latent edgy blue mood, strayed focus, dull phase, 
strict shift to rationed bright spells, murky welkin haze,

     decay in dwindling twilight irks sept.stuffed nose,
yet Fall cleans its passageway with breezy prose
Form: Couplet


Any Door

Like the basement door. 
Doesn’t flounder or bend. 
Just is hinged. 
Unlike me. 

Any door can be an ocean. 
As expansive and open.
Creates a passageway. 
Tangled sea. 

Any door can be a flower. 
Attracts bees and such. 
Gets gobbled up by slime. 
Leafiness. 

Any door can be a poem you see?
Just like candy stripes. 
Just like peeling off stickers from the mirror. 
Gobbling the space between those two planes. 

It’s flat. 
The door is flat and stoic. 
Transfers me to the next realm.
But only if my feet stop trembling. 

Any door can be a poem. 
Attached to me. 
Any door can be a poem. 

Unhinged.

Premium Member Realm of Wonder

What realm is this to which at night
                                       I offer my surrender
Escorted by the sounds 
                    and by the voices that I’ve known
They penetrate the passageway that
spirals into darkness
allowing me to enter and to journey anywhere

Though prone to physics of this world,
                               my mind is clearly moving
It often seems I’m interested 
in visiting the past
and other worlds exist to which
                                   I find myself connected
I’m frightened and I’m fascinated
                              by the things I see

But oh, should demons be released
that I alone can know
and images that far exceed what 
                               I can comprehend
I then await the ticket home to my reality
to leave behind this realm of wonder
                                               for another day

Premium Member DOOR CLOSED WE ARE AT THE HARVEST



I have reached you
But still, I don’t feel safe
For they know I am with you
Persistent with their knocking
On the grate on the back door
On the steep slope of lawn
At the end of a long cone of light
They demand to know, to enter
Without understanding.

They shoot up their electronic messages
In an endless pursuit, hunting out and
Up from the darkness of their perverted will
Attempting to arrive here with us
They demand access and control
Without passing through the fire
Without first returning home
Without replanting
In the purified ground
Rising to your world near the front garden
Without opening up the crust of the red iron earth
To till in new planting 
In the furrows of the soft warm clay
Clearly described in the instructions
And dictated by the severe climatic conditions
Of the purifying new sun’s light and holy rains
Filling this new terrain and
Described in the planting manuals on the shelves
Hanging on the walls between the icons
In the conical labyrinth of rooms
Along the corridor
From the back rooms to the front garden
Soon we will close off this passageway
And take off in orbit
Into the new galaxy prepared for us
From the beginning
Planted with star-seeds
Of the Divine LOGOS
From the beginning of time.



The harvest has finally begun.
Perhaps we don’t even have to put that sign on the back door
For the fields are so ripe with the fragrance of the October vines
And the olives are so mature they are about to fall off the trees
That everyone will know we are at the harvest


And if we ever return to the world
Of the old house where the back door was
With its open grating, we will find the ground burned,
What stood, turned to ash, disintegrated,
Returning through death, re-integrated
Into the earth of the underworld, to be reborn,
As new re-connected trees,
In the garden of an old world
Re-planted and now re-visited
For one last time.

No funeral bells were ever heard
And neither were there any angels
Of Divine Annunciations carrying us off
It just happened under the guidance 
Of secret voices hidden in the core of life.

The New World

I circled the world in a point of time
And I discovered the story 
Of Christopher Columbus’s lifetime
You know, he was born in Italy in 1451?

Young Chris sailed the seas as a felon
Attacking the ships of Moors,
But sadly his vessel was a sunken
Luckily he knew how to swim ashore.

Chris and his brother joined together,
And then he married happily
His wife’s father gave him registers
That all positioned toward the Atlantic.

Dreams for new lands were not far away
Across the seas they would set sail
To see worlds that would be new that day
And bring news that would change humanity.

First permissions were reject for the Indies
Then loving eyes died shortly afterwards
Leaving a son, so he sailed for the Spanish seas
And once more nobility refused his traveling ideas.

There was another wife and yet another child
In the shadow of time were more denials
His needs for finance seemed lost and wild
When a priest put forward for his sake and won.

Chris found his way together with his sons
And three ships that set sail for the Indies
Santa Maria flowed proudly in the setting sun
The Pinta, and The Nina followed closely behind.

The final voyage with vivid eyes showed the way
In 1492 Columbus sailed to the Canaries,
And the Sargasso Seas guided false passageway
Mutiny, anger and violence almost ruined the trip.

Alas the ideas of India and China came into view 
Though the Santa Maria sank into the sea
The New World had been discovered by the few
It is now time to go home and spread the great news.

The journey has found a new world for the future
And the human race will now circle the globe
Ships will come and develop a land that is ever pure
Together the new lands will stand fourth as one big world.
Form: Verse


Chivalry Is Dead

Man is Fearful and unapologetic 

 Chivalry is dead 

Fair ladies and noble chivalry 
Is a thing of the past? 
Men board buses and trains 
And small passageway 
and boorishly, say to the ladies 
especially on the freeway 
To move out of their way 
and stop backing up the highway 

However, the fair ladies are not timid 
  those wall flowers are replace by huge egos 
Today fair ladies retaliate and never exhibit ladylike qualities 
Therefore, men referred to them as whores. 
*****es and witches 

Women! Let us never bow and apologize  
Chivalry is dead, 
Because man is a broken giant and in all his mishaps 

Weak by nature in his arrogates ways. 
would it never end, it all depends
Whom do they think they are ?
The dust from the falling stars
Form:

Awakening

In the thick fog of dawn 
Everything is unclear 
Dull and overcast 
I awaken, drowsy, half-asleep 
And enter into the day, 
The earth is new
The trees, the sky
The distant panorama 
The surrounding landscape is fresh and new;
The thoughts that disturb the peaceful mind 
That lead us down the passageway of fear 
And into the abyss that follows close behind 
Towards knowledge of the infinite 
Or something else 
I have no gods 
Only belief in one 
The Almighty, Lord of Lords 
And King of Kings 
From everlasting to everlasting 
And time beyond the scope of reason 
Or imagination;
How heavy are my thoughts in the early morning 
Out in the open countryside 
Walking along the beaten path 
The compulsive mind troubled and preoccupied, 
I am old and weary 
But I was young once 
Or at least I saw through the eyes of childhood once 
Played in the back garden 
Fell on the hard ground 
Laughed and cried 
Gave in to childish fears 
Doubts, anxiety and despair
But that was all a long time ago 
And I return to these memories 
Like a swallow returns in summer 
From a distant land, 
I search for meaning, belonging, attachment 
On a journey of profound exploration 
I create a future out of hope 
And leave behind my legacy:
A building, a tower, a monument 
Or a tearful epitaph
Engraved on the headstone 
Of what might have been,
Yes, we have lands to explore 
Mountains to climb 
Fears to overcome 
And dreams to achieve, 
And all is possible 
For those who truly believe. 


         W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2021

          9 September 2021.
© W.A. Cholt  Create an image from this poem.

Haydn Aidan and Monica Reith

Haydn Aidan and Monica Reith
Made a pact to share false teeth
They did the same with pants and shoes
It saved the bother of having to choose
One worked  by night and one by day
They shared a bed and to keep it neat
They made the change in a passageway
They shared a bed but to keep things neat
Each one had their own bed sheet
They only decided they would try it
To help each other keep to their diet
After fourteen years when both were thin
They started living apart again
Then Haydn Aidan and Monica Reith
Each went and bought their own false teeth
But for a while they didn’t rush
Each to buy their own tooth brush
Once a week they met in town
And brushed each other’s dentures down
Monica Reith and Haydn Aidan
Virgin man and blushing maiden
Neither of them ever saw
That the other may have wanted more
Those bestest of best best friends
Which is sadly where our story ends
Form: Rhyme

Stand With Me This Evening

Stand with me this evening


Precious is the light of every distant star we see
For they become the passageway that brings your love to me
Tiny points a’ sparkling upon the evening sky
Perfect constellations that we both see passing by

Miles lie between us as we stand upon this ground
Only in the evening when we can not hear a sound
Do we see the shimmering of heavens up above
Bringing to our very hearts our long desired love

Darkness now we find that it shall always be our friend
So that we may use the stars upon our love to send
Silent is the evening that our eyes do come to meet
Whispering affection over nighttime skies we greet

Beauty comes in many forms to lighten up our day
Only when the twilight smiles and sends the sun away
Will the stars come shining down from canopies of night
And we can find the love we seek now glowing in their light

Stand with me this evening even if the clouds exist
Shower me within your love for it I surely miss
Here beneath the galaxies and their most precious view
So that we may once again embrace our love so true
Form: Rhyme

Hall Pass

Had a room been open   in that passageway
as a foreign night-ship, you’d have sailed by
Love would’ve been what?       I couldn’t say
Life: an inveterate humid ply____________

Perhaps has passed with its pernicious waves
Acceptance            rising like ocean’s eustacy
Sometimes, perfunctory was a skin-cut shave
So much more, was propitious ecstasy~~~~~

Parts of us shall never be contrite
As connoisseurs of our own fate, we played
Rage now mostly contrived in dying spite
though candid caustic thoughts can still prey…

Passion!                  
Our ultimate perfidy
Passion! 
We should've kept astute custody.

6/29/2021
Form: Sonnet

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