Long Pathway Poems
Long Pathway Poems. Below are the most popular long Pathway by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pathway poems by poem length and keyword.
Getting it out with a good shout
Now don't go and pout
Deep down inside so riddled with doubt
Need to find a safer route
Tired of fighting these heartfelt bouts
Our freedom has a way of holding the past
Before you know it you have crossed the bridge to fast
Having something special that would've of last
Oh the regrets of today
Such a heavy price we have to pay
When we just want to stay out and play
When respect goes a long ways
You can't back up with what you say
Instead, you take a different pathway
I have always prayed
That our friendship wouldn't decay
Things get broken when we don't meet halfway
Which puts us on a different highway
Alone feeling like we have just run away
Wanting to replay
All those wonderful memories of our yesterday
If you just would've understood all the love I conveyed
Then I wouldn't be walking away feeling betrayed
Instead of watching the sunset across the bay
Bad choices that ruin a perfect ballet
You just let the good times slip away
Making it feel like you have overstayed
Time to find a stronger airway
That leads to the right kind foreplay
A woman who lives up to what she portrays
Rather then stowaway on the wings of a friends heart
Knowing this would only break us apart
You knew I wanted love from the very start
Now I'm letting go as it's time to depart
I walk away with a dagger through my heart
Because the fire has gone all dark
In the dark opaque night,
across the sonorous space of silence,
enfolding the languid landscape of existence,
bereft of the beguiled essence in indolent life,
my forsaken journey’s pathway meanders
in the gloomy labyrinth of torment.
Trudging at the fringe of trying tolerance,
I hear the whispering wind of wisdom
tell me, this journey has no meaningful end.
I’m in the nebulous ambit of ambiguity,
find the desolate soul in the grip of agony.
As I see the overcast bleak sky crash down,
I collect fortitude from the debris of hope,
pray for the healing touch of the almighty.
In this sacred time of the year,
I travel liberated out of the abyss of despair,
on the blessed inward journey,
through the pious layers of consciousness,
perceive in the sanctum of the devout soul
the radiance of the divine beacon,
illumining the corridor to the abode of bliss.
The portals of the inner domain then open,
where the piety lotus blooms for me,
suffused with omnipresent gleam of God’s grace.
My soul shines with the ethereal radiance
in the infinite depth of the discernment space,
like the flaring brilliance of thousand suns.
In my self-searching spiritual odyssey
toward the edge of the enlightened eternity,
I perceive the glow of the inner galaxy,
that turns me into a living lantern.
In the twilighted play of mysterious clouds of air,
the image of Aphrodite's revealed its golden glare.
Transcending through the landscape of cloud, beautiful, serene and proud,
in that splendour of light, she looks like the empress of the night.
I look, but recognize no more familiarities to my view,
my pathway became an enchanted avenue.
The very ground beneath my feet,
glistening marble paves the silent street.
On either side, behind and before,
the ocean stretches like a golden floor.
A moving light of amethyst,
shimmer reflections through the dome of mist.
In this beauties enlighten sphere,
she spoke to me so fare.
"Nothing will perish utterly, but only perish to revive again".
Of hearts, that long have ceased to beat,
remain the memories in hearts that are, or are to be.
Names that once filled the world with creative muse,
build in verses, paintings or sculpture still amuse.
Echoes of drama despair and search for the ultimate love,
sometimes seen by some mirage from above.
Dreams or illusion, call them what you will,
divine senses will find its fill.
That rapture of the heart has a golden string at hand,
holding on to it will lead us to the promised land.
If I could be a raft
I would gladly rescue you
If I could be a branch
I would float as close to you as I could
so that you could grab a hold of my buoyancy
If I were a rainbow I would shine
just so you
would feel hope
If I were a sparrow
I would lite upon the branch near
your window
If I were a Sunbeam
how I would shine down on you
If I were steel
I would be the girder of your house
to make it strong
I would be the walkway that never bends
and shows you exactly the way to go
and what to do
But if I ever was a pathway
I would always bend
If I could speak in a thousand tongues
I would speak to you in Latin
and French
and German
and Norwegian
speaking love in a thousand voices
And I would write
and sing songs
that no one has ever heard before
just to thrill you
If I could do anything
I would be something strange
but I guess I am
I would move waters to always be kind
and remind rivers to stay within their banks
and winds to always blow gently
I would kiss all of the toddlers
and rescue all of the children who are so hurt
I would reach my hand out to hold the hand
of everyone who's lonely
If only I could do anything I wanted to...
I would kiss you
but I can't
So I will dance in the rain that falls gently on my hill and be grateful
I cannot move mountains and I cannot quiet seas
But I can be grateful ...for all the beauty I see
You are still a vague image of mine, you are no longer there.
The one you knew so close, is not one you knew in near,
You adored the one, your reverie, your floral blossom knitted a welcome song around
Days flew by, with half lit sun dried sigh, the floral nick knack, home bound
The lighted enlightened is a subtle shaky startle there, out of fear, negation
Too fragile a cosmic wind, vulnerable with the humble most oblivion
Come along my sorrow, the salient glow ignited
Come along with the ritual for me as the time greeted, unfolded
Death whispered along the way, the absolute lime that endured, ages
the veils of the unknown shall reach a pathway, superlative verses
The defeated reasons shall end with a may, pensive, with a speechless say.
11-27-2024
phoenix questers
yes…
out of the deep
dark stagnation
of malignant
apathy
we must pull
ourselves
upwards to
eternity
and beyond
to that synergy
which will take us
to the
liberated journey
where
we shall bask
in the aurora
of history makers'
spirits glorifying
the knocking
at the door
of his-story's
mystery opening
and their entering
inking new pages
of ourstory
streaming with justice
peace and love
of god’s gifts
from the oven
of his heart molded,
baked and accentuated
with the icing
of audacious hope…
thus is the legacy
to you
the new torch bearers
to taking
the entered vision
of the dream
to the claimed reality
that is the quest
of phoenix beings
who are the waited upon
future history makers
of our never ending story
whose pathway
has been plowed…
new seeds germinating
and blooming flowers
birthing liberating fruits
ripening seeds
of ourstory
of being free at last
here on earth
as is in the high heaven’s:-
The full moon and milky snow illuminate the nighttime landscape I found myself lost on the mountain.
I have to make a choice. Looking for the North Star I placed a stick pointing north to direct me to the closest destination when I rise in the morn dawn. To the North one hundred fifty miles to the nearest cabin hoping that it is supplied with stable foods and a warm place to stay until rescued, or south two hundred miles in the other direction where a trapper lives all year round.
Over my shoulders I carried my rifle and survival equipment and begin the one hundred fifty-mile hike to the cabin. Walking through spruce, hemlock, and lodge-pole pines and eating a variety of berries.
In the morning after the snowstorm, I woke to ski snow-powder steeps. A wolf rested on its haunches, inspecting my unprotected surroundings. I took aim, shot, and missed, and it turned and took off.
For days, I had the feeling that someone or something was watching me. I started seeing signs of bear tracings. I was almost out of ammunition for my rifle and decide to make a spear. I looked around for a suitable sturdy tree limb or sapling a few inches taller them me. Using my knife, I fashioned a shelf for the knife creating securing support for the knife and wrapping it tight with rope.
I had shot a three-point buck early that morning and dressed it out; when I heard woof, woof, woof, sounds. The brown grizzly bear came down on all fours and started pawing at the ground, then came at me like a freight train.
I wedge the wooden in of the spear between the rock and into the ground. The grizzle charged then stood up rising above me, impelling itself through the heart with the spear killing it instantly. His dead weight slumped falling limp forward on top of me trapping me under.
Tired and cold the pain disappeared by the time I amble down the pathway toward the summer cabin in the noon-lit dawn.
12/30/2021
Life is nothing without someone to share it with
Dreams and goals are nothing but a myth
to live with when you walk the path of life alone
Like a stone it's dropped into your pocket
And there it weighs on you and brings you down
And the misery will make you drown
In the paint dripping off the face of a clown
And the only sound you'll hear is next to the ground
And a slow and steady, tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc,
And like mice we'll all shudder while being beaten
By the hands of the clock because we know life is short
And life means nothing without someone to share it with
Because we're fragile beings in search of acceptance
False mints popped into the mouth of a giant
To give his mouth some better scents
And maybe that giant is God
And maybe that giant is the devil
But we can't sit in the palm of the giant alone
And hope for salvation when damnation is knocking at the door
And I do so abhor the idea of being eaten alone
It's never too late to atone for the blown opportunities
Because we're all one in the same and it's a damn shame
If we're always playing this game on solo
How could life get so low
But we know that there is a golden pathway just waiting for us to take
But we've got to push away the hands of the giant
Because with our combined strength we can change the world
One footstep at a time, one smile at a time, one friendship at a time
A heart to heart love that can never be ripped apart
This is our chance to make a new start and realize life is beautiful
And that beauty is something we need to share
Because life is there we just need somebody to share it with
At the fringe of somber sunset our paths parted,
your melting shadow flowed away to obscurity
beyond faded footprint trail etched in my heart,
as my destitute journey started searching retreat.
Distant sea-shore cradled me under sunburst sky,
dislodged dreams drifted away to depth of horizon.
For the hollow heart yearning for fervent mooring
I built a fantasy castle in the golden sands of recluse.
On wings of surging storm winds of dense despair
tides of time brought waves of crushing seclusion.
Ruined transient longing, the castle, slipped into sea,
I could never make it mine without you, my home.
Through the amorous night’s moonbeam pathway
I traced your lost footprints to the abode of love
where the quest for shelter of vagrant me ended,
for I had known when I’m with you, I’m home.
Posted : August 12, 2019
June 12, 2020
Contest : Brian's Select D
Sponsor : Brian Strand
When the starless nights are bleakly opaque,
and the sunless days desolately misty,
to steer the astray life across ambiguity maze
in the miasma of misery isn’t easy.
When the garden of flowers turn fawn,
and the pasture grass russet,
the secret tears fill the sea of psyche
for the decrepit hopes to drown.
When the relegated road to travel is long,
and the gifted time fleetingly finite,
my fretful furtive mind
searches for the sensuous perception
of insightful introspection.
The pathway then turns transiently into
the conduit of consciousness,
carving the course of its own.
I saunter steadfast upbeat
in the corridor of sanguinity
to reach resolute the desired destination.
I don’t measure the senseless span
of collapsed space, and deceptive time,
take the tacit route of acuity
across the stardust-swathed argentine nights,
and the sunburst-sequined dazzling days.
I don’t ask the purpose of the journey,
for I won’t ever know,
but wander in the valley of flowers,
and in the dew-donned mesmeric meadow.
I don’t sink hope in the abyss of despair,
but travel with myself content
in the sanguine segment of the new road,
I pave in the time present,
kindle in my onyx mind
the candle of contemplation,
and in its reflection in the mirror of sagacity
I see the self-designed walkway
meander to the timeless realm of bliss.