Long Past life Poems
Long Past life Poems. Below are the most popular long Past life by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Past life poems by poem length and keyword.
Conches scattered in shifting sands,
Ocean's painted art from high tide,
Caring not of past life inside.
Lovingly cupped in tiny hands,
A child of six years finds great joy.
Dirty hands bother not, this boy.
He lifts one to ear where he stands.
His bare toes dug in dampened silt,
Near sandcastle that he just built.
Dancing to sounds of seashell bands,
He squeals shear delight at the tune.
A sight that makes his mother swoon.
Ocean music, he understands.
He remembers time on Dad's ship.
Dancing stops and a tear does slip.
Conches scattered in shifting sands,
Lovingly cupped in tiny hands.
He lifts one to ear where he stands.
Dances to sounds of seashell bands.
Ocean music, he understands.
Written 11/25/17 for
Craig Cornish/Constanza Contest.
I sometimes think I shouldn't have created memories with you,
because now I don't have the courage to live just with them, and not with you.
Remember last year when I met you and we became friends?
Gradually, we started mixing with each other and ran on those hills,
unintentionally holding hands.
You were always shy to confess it,
but I always detected love for me in your eyes.
Now, our story couldn't be completed,
but those memories will always keep us tied—
not physically, but our souls will be held together,
always strong and stiff, which even a heavy storm can't shatter.
Those memories we made with love and laughter
will always give me a reason to smile.
I promise to keep them safe at the bottom of my heart,
and will reminisce about them,
even if we get separated by a mile.
Now, I'll have to walk alone in my life ahead,
supported only by our memories,
which will stay with me till the day I'm dead.
I won't force you to always hold me,
or never move on in your life,
but I just want you to always remember me,
and those memories we lived together with fun and pride.
It's strange, but I sometimes think those memories will make me sad.
They'll revolve around my headspace,
reminding me about that love and sweet moments I had.
I'm sure those memories will make me emotional,
sending me back to the past.
Those faces, words, relations will make me weaker and fragile
till the day I last.
Now, I have realised,
it doesn't take much time to call someone from “is mine” to “was mine.”
I wish I could teleport into my memories
and relive them, enjoying every moment as I actually lived them.
I'll miss my past life in my upcoming journey,
far from my loved ones—
a life that can't be bought with all the money.
Memories are bittersweet pieces of life,
created by a person—
some created with sadness, others with fun.
I’m no novelty though I’m a balloon in this parade,
I’m the blue and red air ship,
And I float around, on my way to return,
Returning to your glass landing strip.
Then, when I land, I want you to know
That nothing is fearful for us.
Our ribs, our bones, our delicate hands, no nothing,
There is nothing for us to discuss.
And you sit me in front of you,
Wearing nothing but leather shoes,
Living in a burnt past life,
With burnt past life living leather tattoos.
And you’re my something,
My something that nobody can tame.
You’re my IT girl, my Juliet, my beau,
With your burning, consuming love flame.
Who do you deem to be stronger?
Be it God or the Devil?
Simple!
Should you wish to know the answer
Why, just see to what extent do you wish the world to be ill
Yes, God did make us, the torchbearers of life
Yes, God did believe we would be His followers
Yet, see today, mass killings for His own sake
So much that I do even wonder if God is dead or awake
To have taken birth in this world
Is none but the result of a fall
Our own, a fall we suffer now, a fall from the great Heaven
Our past life, the one we cannot remember
Is the cause of all that we do get in this one
This one life, shall indeed be the one weighed for our next one
Shall we be graced as to be allowed an ascent back to the holy land
Or shall we remain here in this putrid land
Or shall we go down further beyond, to the hellish grounds
Why, pray, do mind my words, and do be good to all who do surround you
Who you do deem to be stronger
Is none other but the one you choose to follow
Human hearts are made of two parts
The first belongs to God
The other one belongs to the Devil
Of course, sometimes we do wish to do good
Yes!
At other times, we do wish to harm
Mind you! Think twice, thrice even
And if you need to back out from evil, please do so!
Lie not, kill not, harm not, bring not anyone down
As everything about you, about each one of you
Is being kept, recorded and stored
Someday, you shall be judged, like me, like all others
Then, you shall realize, who is the One Mightier; God or the Devil!
Yeah, you don’t write every story,
Thinking society will switch on to worry,
The mode is boring,
Somehow you need not to worry,
Done in past, life hold us frankly,
You’re my greatest paddy,
Yet still I receive no mercy,
Is it because of money?
Then stay fixed on nothing,
I will lead you to heaven,
Hustling in the world is a fight,
If today past away in the night,
Tomorrow will appear with a might,
It might put we all in a flight,
Just try to keep your seat belt tight,
Beating of the heart is ever to be felt within a fright,
Best of your knowledge hold this urge as your light,
I mean it, since I know it,
There’ve been hatred along the way,
The trials keep digging a plotted pit,
All you got to do is to pray,
Of course we wait for what darkness brings,
Faith is all we believe to pay,
Silence explains what life sings,
Where is home in the day?
It makes me always think,
It’s a pleasure on your timeline what I hate to say,
The dream killers are searching for you,
Only let them drown in your rule,
That’s the best way to blind them from the moon,
After they’ve be won at noon,
Snow birds will bring joyful message to change your mood,
Let`s be together, success will be on our sides to,
So let`s tight our shoes,
For when we lose the achievement, we have no excuse…
Yeah, we have no excuse…
Loneliness is the old woman walking home with her shopping bags,
She is a solitary recluse, cut off from the world with no family;
Friendless with the exception of the ancient cat waiting for her return,
Her home is full of tattered memories from a past life.
Loneliness is the man who goes for a small coffee every single day,
He is always by himself and seems so forlorn and sad, withdrawn;
The only person he spoke to today was the server who took his order,
Her friendliness is the only joy in his life this day.
Loneliness is the emptiness of so many souls in this world of ours,
Having selected to live the life of hermits rather than change;
They walk this world shadows of what they were or could be again,
Living within their own thoughts and heartbreaks.
Loneliness is the solitary person dying alone, companion-less,
It was not always so, once upon a time they had bright dreams;
O, so many dreams but the dreams had long ago dried up,
And with a faint sigh, secluded they finally let go
____________________________
October 10, 2013
Poetry/Verse/Faces Of Loneliness
Copyright Protected, ID 10-511-140-10
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Pele's home rumbles within the dome -- I came to atone.
What was I then; what am I now? Dominance lost, so ashamed,
a man I'd been, a King on a throne -- now powerless a woman, a crone.
To the womb I return, to grow and reform, second chance my aim.
Tired and drawn, plucked to the bone -- so far from the comfort of home
a group of seekers gathered to entreat the mother, to the cauldron we came.
Islands of sea, islands of self immersed in loam -- groomed for sacrifice not alone
cleansed -- held upright by sisters we sought the wisdom of the flame.
In a future time, a far off place, deep within the gloam, my spirit roams;
I'll be returned; a man again lessons learned, my titles to reclaim
for through the passage of time and form -- I'd be reborn, soul grown,
cherishing the lessons, cauldron learned, my second chance attained.
* This is a true past life memory.
The bright light of colors interact in the background
Slight haze of orange deliberately mixing to create nature
The color of flowers shapes with fondle metals solidifying
The white and black creating a tiger type image recalls
That the shapes of the insect are also bright
Creation at its best to paint the difference in color
With curves that are defined as objects that are
Shows brightness and yet dark this is natures art
The elegant flow of the flowers and life
Reborn to be disperse in a short span of two seasons
Spring and summer colliding together to spawn
A new life in a brighter stage of the world
It feels as though the wind will blow the fragrance
Or the butterfly will enhance the life of the flower
Flower does the same with the butterfly
A deep trust in feeding each other is all about
The unique nature of the flower and butterfly
Always in the past life flows in such away it’s motherly
To recall the moment of each is a cycle that is complete
This is seasonal and no questions would need to be asked
The feeling of just stopping to watch the event
The event that always feeds both flower and insect
The life that the butterfly show now is half of what is
Reborn to share the colors of two seasons and the world
Each time soul’s reborn, it begins anew,
with memory of its past life wiped clean,
feeling vividly each hue as though new,
truth of existence attempting to glean.
Love’s the only rule in this earth life school,
so on blank canvas of soul, we should ink
colours of joy but then lust makes us drool
and in quicksands of desire, we soon sink.
It seems then we are doomed but there is hope,
for God has provided us with a guide,
being voice of conscience, that we don’t grope
in darkness, reclaiming soul’s light inside.
The table is laid for joy readymade,
if we but opt in stream of bliss to wade.
If we but opt in stream of bliss to wade,
being flow of soma nectar within,
cravings of ego soon begin to fade
and our heart is purged from demonic sin.
To embrace magnetism is up to us,
simply since love employs no use of force,
so melding head with heart, making no fuss,
currents divine sublime steers our life course.
Love’s the magic that has no opposite,
resolving within its womb, past conflict,
making mind, body and soul composite,
provided we are not by ego tricked.
In void-centric stillness, witnessing life,
animating silence, our heart’s bliss rife.
Animating silence, our heart’s bliss rife,
tiptoeing softly in the void unshod,
allowing love to act as the midwife,
revealing inner light that leaves us awed.
Life is the fabric upon which we paint
emotes of soul, inked by our childlike heart,
so treading gently, mindful like a saint,
let us then make each breath, a work of art.
Born in the aether, God’s magnetic heat,
enlivens head to toe, our feeble form
refrain of love that always does repeat,
imbibed if we surrender to this storm.
Just as each morn, we’re graced by pristine dew,
each time soul’s reborn, it begins anew.
In a past life I must have killed a priest,
or could it be that on flesh i did feast?
Maybe I brutally raped a God ordained nun.
Because in this life I am being shunned.
My kittens have died, one every other day.
Three total and one other will not get that pardon or stay.
Feline leukemia, so all my cats will surely die.
The only humane thing is to euthanize, and so I cry.
Lois, then Jasper, next Quagmire, now Emmett too,
The mama cat, and their older brother will die, how can we get through?
Hopefully the three orphans weren't exposed enough,
Four weeks until we'll know, why does life have to be so tough?
The mama, Maxine, was named after my grandma who died,
the kids and Illyanna got her for me, because all I did was cry.
A year and a half of joy and love she brought to me.
Why does she and all the kittens have to die, is what I plea.
What have I done to have a life where I struggle every day?
I'm not a bad person, I'm kind and loving, how much more must we pay?
A mother, who didn't want me for a while, many men who used and abused me.
At times like this, it makes me want to give up on life, to turn and flee.
They say God doesn't give you more than you can handle at one time,
I feel like its a lie, I feel unjustly convicted of a horrible crime.
Today I have to choose, let my animals suffer or give them the mercy of death.
To bury six members of my family in seven days, will leave me bereft.
How much torture and pain must one person or family have to go through?
This isn't some fiction story, every word I write is nothing but true.
Every passing minute, more of my heart breaks piece by piece.
I don't smoke, or drink, or do drugs, or have sex, so I have no release.
Let me wake, and it be nothing more than a horrible dream,
I can't take much more of this crappy bad luck, its too extreme.
God, if you're there, why are you doing this to all of us?
I've always been told You are someone we can trust!
Please God, please don't take anything else away.
My heart and soul whither as the ends start to fray.
Tell me what you want me to do and I will gladly obey.
Just please, Dear God, I can't handle the agonizing dismay.