Long Pathways Poems
Long Pathways Poems. Below are the most popular long Pathways by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pathways poems by poem length and keyword.
"The idea of building something once to last
tends to occur to...practical people later in life,
after they have reconstructed a few things
they thought were good enough
at the time."
David Holmgren, "Permaculture Principles and Pathways"
There is only
integrity
of each moment's potential.
We are yintegrity flow
of yang's x promise.
Where "x" equals:
Ecology, in Earth sciences
Biology, in life sciences
CoOperativity, in economic trans-actional evolutionary/devolutionary sciences
Democracy, in political sciences
Creolization, in evolutionary linguistics
Synergy, in Bucky Fuller's 0-prime fractal geometrics
Syncretism, in religious and cultural studies
Deep Learning, in pedagogical theory
Consilience, in E.O. Wilson
Bilateral Processing, in Edward DeBono
Bicameral Balance, in Julian Jaynes' ethology of anthropological history
Wisdom, in literature
Deduction, in-duction diction
ExFormation, in-formation
Reversion, in spacetime
3D causal space, in reverse temporal 4D image reflection
spiraling waves, in reiterative communication theory
feedback looping space, in two-dimensional pace
fractal bilaterals, in regenerative RNA/DNA systems
WinWin 0-sum harmony-seeking reiterations, in Game Theory
double-bindary, in digital polynomial strings of theory
double-negative thesis, in positive hypothesis
zero, in appositional dipolarity
notice, in understanding progress
value, in calculating qualitative quantities of symmetry
Golden Ratios, in Golden FlowRules
positive, in notnot
Yang, in YinSquared
Eulerian prime 0 relation, in speed of light fractal correlation, apposition
EcoLogos, in Earth's creolizing ego democratizations of YangYin Center
"See the [impatient egocentric] dark,
recognize its power,
but do not feed it."
Robin Wall Kimmerer, "Braiding Sweetgrass"
And certainly don't vote for it.
Don't even nominate it
for further self-infested powers.
i was listening to Levertov read
one of her poems
and as she spoke my mind drifted
her words were of those moments
when manunkind sinks its' teeth
into the bowels of the earth
rapes untold but well known
riches for itself
my mind wandered from the reading
a slow walk thru the cedar forest
of the Levant, now gone
sitting on the ocean's floor
in sunken ships, rotting
sad but it is a fate
commerce will never be denied
as the neolithic exploded
agriculture within that admixture
abundance must be moved
but the most horrifying aspect therein
it paid for a military
the wars began, humanity failed itself
the Garden's tale repeats itself
Denise proves the point
the poets' words are in themselves
moments when the rights and wrongs
suddenly appear in neural pathways
marching from the shadows
as Sherlock Holmes noted
hidden within until life demands a clue
why in Medieval times the adage
following the overthrow of a king
what should we do next, warriors sing
kill the poets comes the cry
which is why they live in no cages
they are free-range natured
to wander the land in freedom
where imagination and inspiration
lie in the most surprising places
neural pathways within
inebriated by atoms surrounding them
a liquor brewed from casks
where creativity floats in pearls
adorned in every jewel
gifts from the heavens above
where success is the sweetest
the moment it moves from the mortal
into the realms of the immortal
coming full circle
as Auden so well points out
time says nothing more than
i told you so
we were never a paradise lost
OKC 7/22
Day-248 “Winter’s Wrath”
From out of the north
The cold winds blew
Hell’s inferno turned blistery cold
The Devil himself all
Bundled in ice coated steel;
His snarly, crackling laughter
Piercing the barren air.
His staff, a brazened fork,
Pierced all who ventured out
Searing holes in sockless shoes.
His razor sharp eyes
Turned pathways glazed
To monstrous graves.
Eternity could not be worse
This inferno from the north.
From out of the south
The warm winds came.
Across the Heavens,
In a chariot of golden sun rays
Pulled by a hundred whited steeds
Apollo took aim.
Over the plains they clashed;
Spears and swords took many a soul
White sheets covered the deadly fields.
The north wind hissed.
The south wind kissed.
Apollo cried out
“My blood runs hot
Forsake me not.”
From his scabbard a diamond blade flew
Cutting the breath of that mighty
South bound wind.
He ripped the armor
From the Devil’s redden skin
And turned it to dust; then
Took that angry man’s staff and threw
It to the sea.
With that the skies began to calm
And the wind turned warm.
Above the plains
In the setting sun
Selene stood proud.
As she glazed the sea
With an orangish glow
A smile on her face
For Apollo her man,
Boreas he tamed.
Lon 2/16/2021 #351
I am so tired of liars.
People who don’t see your worth,
or why you’re tired.
People who drain you too,
setting your chest on fire.
For if you ever wonder why, my mind is so dire,
I had but only one desire.
I trusted so blindly and now I am wired,
to question all faces until I expire.
For I loved.
I loved with all my worth.
I loved so much, that in time they’ll sing, of a man who’s cursed.
I cared too much and though I’m hurt,
the truth I spoke, since my birth.
For I cannot deceive.
It may ease or please for a moment,
but those moments flee as breeze.
And as the wind whispers to trees,
and the rain waters the seas,
I am left on my knees,
with no cure for my disease.
No matter how much I beg or plead,
my feet can go no further.
And I swore to God and then some more
that I never meant to hurt her.
Though my lips are sore and my soul is more, I can not go to the way back, before.
For my mind is stained, so’s my name and every drop inside my veins.
And this pain I entertain,
for days and weeks and months on end,
it dried the land and every friend.
For there’s no mercy only sand,
alone I walk, but I’m only man.
I swear to you, that I can’t stand,
I miss her voice, her eyes, her hands.
But liars sing and good hearts dance,
a poisoned mind, just sinks too fast.
For the ink that dripped into the past,
dried and words were made to last.
For while liars lie, their reasons why,
we will never came to ask.
Though wise, to think twice,
my eyes are drawn to vice.
For she is no more, and every door
seems closed or leads to pathways mourned.
The sign of Aries first of the zodiac
Holding promise of new beginnings
Shifting seasons, blooming daisies
Radiant hearts plant seeds of love
Summer solstice invites in warmth
That our hearts contour innocence
Into pathways of loving alignment
In harmony with the breath of God
The that concealed is now revealed
Hibernating life forms here awaken
The invisible now becomes manifest
At seductive pace of April’s breeze
In midst of activity yet reigns silence
Nestled in the heartbeat of each form
Presence oozing gratitude heartfelt
Upon beholding magic of His wonder
13-April-2021
~
Morning’s so much nicer
ever since you came along
A chilly breeze, it sings to me
its sweet October song
The sunrise, as if lemonade
is poured upon the sky
A fluffy cloud soars like a dove
as it goes floating by
Dew drops glisten brightly,
tiny diamonds on the lawn
Bluebirds sing in harmony
with this melodic dawn
Butterflies awaken
with the colors of the day
Fallen leaves of red and gold,
a wondrous fall display
Brushstrokes paint horizons
in a shade of tangerine
Pathways lead a special place
in this euphoric scene
Everything is beautiful
and nothing can go wrong
Morning’s so much nicer
ever since you came along
~
Winter with you snows proposals.
Promises crunch under foot in autumn
bursts of colour on park pathways,
orange into red into yellow.
Summer with you spouts kisses, wet with spit
on a teenage first date - there’s no drought here.
Our Spring blossoms into the shape of hearts along
stems, with rings upon leaves.
There’s a fifth season here in this place called Love,
where it is forever night, forever alight with eyes for stars.
Here, Love is smell: sweaty with tinges of panic.
Love is touch: secretly caressing feet under tables.
Love is sight: mirror, water, glassy reflections.
Love is sound: a shriek, a sigh, a laugh, an intake of breath.
Love is taste: exotic yet homely, new yet known.
Love, here, is a sixth sense: only truly sensed when found.
Our place called Love rhymes and dances within itself
from place to face to lace to pace and the
beat-de-beat-de-beat of a heart,
from love to dove to above to cove to...
stupid English.
In this place of ours, Love is a verb... to love, to kiss, to wed.
Love is an adjective here... I am in love with you.
Love is a noun, too... an abstract, intangible thing
as well as a proper title, a capitalised place.
Love is a city in this country of ours called Love,
a destination for tourists honeymooning -
lovers in pursuit of magnets or t-shirts bearing a slogan
that Love does exist after all. They send postcards
written in red, ink from beating and bleeding hearts.
Love has a body here too. A voice offering a myriad of truths,
a sex as yet ungendered but passionate and open and massaged,
exploded into an altogether new being. It finds itself upon a bed
that spins, spins, spins and turns on fingertips and tiptoes.
Is Love the question or the answer? The chicken or the egg?
Well, there is a place called Love.
I’ve seen it.
Reserved under lock and key
for you and for me. Us.
Here is the place.
If I were stronger
I’d say a permanent goodbye
To life
To strife
To misery
To pain
Ah…..the pain
No, it’s too hard
Too damn hard
Too hard
Damn
Damn
Hard
They tell me to be grateful
For all that I have
And I am
I am
But they don’t see
They don’t hear
The voice inside
That torments me
The demon of my failures
That accuses me
I’m not good enough
I was never good enough
For the world
For myself
For you
Perfectionist’s nightmare
Striving for the ideal
But all I see
Are broken people
Cracked hearts
Baggage not willing to be let off
At any station
Because though it is so heavy to carry
It's familiar
It offers "security"
No, life is too hard
Pills help
Friends help
Family help
God helps
But what is the use
When I tear down
With my own hands
I tear down
Walls of comfort
Of love
I bleed
I grieve
For the woman I used to be
The woman with dreams
Ideals
Walking along the rosy pathways
Of life
Not seeing the thorns
Believing
Always believing
That true love
Will win the day
There is no TRUE love
I challenge you
Find me the source
Tell me where it abides
Where it hides
Tell me
IF you know
If you can honestly say
Your heart has never been torn
If you can look me in the eye
And say you have never lied
You have never strayed
Never betrayed
With your heart
Your words
Someone who loved you
To distraction
And beyond
Forgive me….
It’s nighttime
I’m weak
I wait for the dawn to come
When I can swallow the pill
That brings me happiness
Makes the world that rosy place
Where I can again dance
And smile
And yet I know in my heart
It’s not really me
There is a me no one sees
The woman behind the face
In a lonely place
Longing...
To say goodbye
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Voyage on glass waves, ice thin,
shattering beneath mind weight,
burning splinters, chemical cold,
probe and pierce between the lobes-
a brain weary of being.
Charred charts wither into ash,
dust of fate -- anger, grief, fear;
the poles altered, gravity sucks outward,
spinning familiar pathways to oblivion.
Is peace that is not peace only in this hazy room,
pungent with weed, loud with need,
family and friends exchanged for Pandora's crew,
posturing in incoherent conversations and irrational laughter,
feeding the needle to the end.
Fueled by self-destructive desire,
drinking always fools' champagne
destined for a junkie's inferno.
Voyage on glass waves, ice thin . . .
Copyright, January 17, 2016
Faye Lanham Gibson
I recite your name in the whispers of the wind
for bonded to my heart are you until the end
I lifted the chalice drank deeply of its wine
I felt of its effects the fullness of divine
Like the chords of piano and dulcimers delight
your melodies do waft through every thought at night
a master plays the chords a violin with strings
plays my heart like a harp whose music on it rings
Your fingers play me like the stroke of piano keys
every touch I enjoy your heart it aims to please
you are a symphony whose chords have touched my heart
a birth cries transmission of transformation every part
Songs like an aria may yet I learn to sing
whose vocals resonate the inmost of my being
You left no line untouched no strand is mine alone
made sure you did I knew would make you me your own
Somewhere I lost myself I gave it all to you
things I don't understand reasons appear askew
I inhale you my breathe to deepest parts within
need you to embrace me as close as your own skin
We retire together speak 'neath the baleful skies
of every trial in life and those who live in lies
greet me in the morning curl around me at night
sing to me of love songs of futures very bright
The wedding of my heart tears away my mind
I want to forever hold you for all of time
Are not your words a bath that removes the worlds dirt
a balm of medicine to heal the deepest hurt
Its surpassing sweetness a palate of good taste
love so intoxicating no drop will go to waste
the adversary's here and tramples the flowers
but you oh my beloved too freely roam my hours
My life is but a breath an instrument of song
music tells the stories of lives and right and wrong
The scent of yesterdays the pathways of the past
forward now the future into the everlast
Proverbs 16
24 Gracious words are a honeycomb,
sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.
COPYRIGHT © 2013 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC