Long Perceptual Poems
Long Perceptual Poems. Below are the most popular long Perceptual by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Perceptual poems by poem length and keyword.
I try to avoid them in the crisp morning light,
but I hastily sink into their mud-caked bottoms.
I sink to my knees in their inevitable stratum.
One after another, beyond memory or thought,
swirling pools of consciousness unspoken.
Parallel immersive mythos together and unbroken.
Heavy here, my trudge from pond to pond,
egoless consciousness watches with detachment.
My fledgling demanding acts are persistent.
My emotions are unwitting and hand-crafted.
These ponds of my making create schemas
from hormones and perceptual appraisals.
I plod through stages of deepening awareness.
From weeping to laughter, I feel each valence nuance.
Though I try to resist them again and again,
these are my schemas, my reckoned inventions.
Like a roaming wolf or a squirrel poised in a tree,
These emotional appraisals are my intentions.
These spontaneously self-organizing feelings
are my defenses, my epiphanies of universal marvel
as egoless consciousness awaits, unspoken.
In the resonant noise of continual commotion,
as the voice of hysteria feels quietened
by the tender touch of consummate calmness,
the serene sheath of sentiments sinks slow
with uniquely unexpressed notion
in the unreachable forsaken depth of the mute mind.
When the cacophony outside finally subsides,
the unsaid becomes the sound of silence,
that vibrates where it finds the desired niche,
strikes softly the unknown chord of harmony.
The expression enunciates what isn’t conveyed yet
from the placid depth of quietude.
In the chaotic space of crumbled relationships
the squally sentiments spiral outraged
in the whirlwind of invasive indignation,
where they once grew in the eye of resentment storm.
Many hues of sensitivity act in the kaleidoscopic show
in the frozen depth of the heart unfeelingly hollow.
When the tempest stops after the apocalypse,
the designed perceptual shroud of stalled silence
spreads in the psychic pathway paved by cogent essence,
where the fragrant wind of seraphic spring blows
with floral emotions that walk the dormant desires
in the desolate streets of solitude.
symbol of contrast
like Noah's ark in harsh storm
captivation norm
endurance am I
alluring in mountains rest
winters embrace test
integrated light
across wild echoes stoic
exudes pure stillness
delicate yet tough
unassailable maiden
artists awed humming
alchemists delight
aligned with capricorn's might
pristine determined
raw unadorned self
expresses inner kingdom
nourishes itself
secrets in dark roots
poison perceptual moot
duality hoots
sacrifice and faith
face adversity with grace
revelation brace
with each unclasping
petals open mystical
surrender holding
scent nascent nadir
sacred self-preservation
authentic profound
quiet verdict holds
love is not parasitic
terrifying peace
contemplate christmas
quest each due ecstatic depth
silent witness bear
so do I exist
cold thorns after each snow dawn
god's love not forlorn
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Our daily lives are filled with them, whether in front
Of us, or in the rear-view mirror.
And though at times the reflection is backwards,
The messages are loud and clear.
They provide much more than just direction,
Offering warnings to pace or detours ahead.
While guiding travelers to their destination,
And avoiding potholes & debris that has spread.
Though many seem to be permanent fixtures,
Others may appear briefly, before they are gone.
As our perceptual acuity is often tested,
Integrated into the avenues, not withdrawn.
The messages conveyed through all these graphics,
Are there to suggest safe passage to an end.
While steering away from roadblocks or calamity,
Or whatever else may be around the next bend.
Kama sutra
The Sanskrit ancient text on making love,
the seductive motions to reach bliss from all above.
Rhymes and verses revealing hundredfold suggestions,
the divinity of making love and no more questions.
This poetical sentiment of romance is the immortal ‘halo’, shinning bright,
natures law versus societies moral dilemma, how to get it right.
Fragile emotions and receptive speculations in consideration,
the intimacy of values creating trust and emotional liberation.
Those erotic description should never be followed blindly,
the tantra book of ecstasy need be taken kindly.
Mental foreplay as creative imagination,
playful possibilities in reservation.
Those perceptual faculties have its reasons for sure,
energizing the elements of fire to alter the physical body, much to endure.
Consider the energy of fire as troublesome and dangerous,
causing conflict and even injuries as cause.
The causal body holds the underlying will and motivation,
the inherited vital potential by heart contemplation.
A change of thought and intention creates a different attribute,
a free flow of intellectual attitude.
The vital energy of fire is the preserver of health,
establishing resistance to disease as wealth.
Those who can control the sexual fire energy,
have the ability to manipulate the kundalini.
The popular Yoga evolution show all possibilities,
colorful blending to natures peaceful gentleness.
The wise person by the power of will,
refines healing properties to a skill.
By giving the spark of fire,
the right intentions to admire.
That the gentle act of intimacy is a sacred sphere,
in which the mental fireworks should be given the credit they deserve.
Happy endings are the in-ul-timate, of the story,
and moral dilemmas have lost all its worry.
I'm not a shapeshifter or a drifter searching for a home,
one who's weary of roaming like a song on the wind
that no ears can hear except for mine alone.
I'm not a gypsy cursed by a binding spell, but worse,
one who seems not able to move as time passes by.
I'm in a realm of consciousness, spiritually tethered to life,
but filled with a sense of being alone and disconnected.
I feel somewhat rejected from others of the same ilk,
unable to emerge from a maze where each turn ends in strife,
or wrapped in the webbing of spider spun silk.
There is no suffering in this place, this space where I exist.
I hesitate to call it a journey, perhaps it's understood best
if I describe it as a relocation or a transient quest.
Did some twist of fate lead me through a dark tunnel
where there's an illuminated path waiting for me to take?
It's blurred, but I have the vision that it's not a prison,
but I'm sitting in Zen position, inside an opaque shell,
immersed in perceptual thoughts, where sapience starts.
At once I understood that my life is interwoven with others.
That shell, like a balloon, burst and I was awed in oneness
with the Earth, awakened as though I'd just discovered
a universe where spiritual acceptance hovers like clouds.
I recovered my cognitive faculties... what will be, will be.
Not the que sera, sera kind found in lyrical song.
One that everyone hears, a harmonic symphony of souls.
Much clearer now, there are sights and sounds,
a different kind of oneness that left me vacuous as before.
This one is substantially more essential. It's more real,
for I feel a certain kind of camaraderie, an urgent zeal
that appeals to me to belong, to be one with something
that lies over the threshold of an opened door.
December 2, 2022 ~ Journey Without Movement Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
I am the wind drifting the snow,
uncertain of destiny and tomorrow
at any hour I could be gone,
and with much strength hope lives on;
nothing can discourage me
to ward off moments of misery,
the firmer I believe, the longer I survive...
Father of endless mercy, bless me as I thrive!
I am the sea in desperate need of the moon,
when no light shimmers across this dark deep;
let me hear a song of joy, not of sorrow and grief,
the hours seem long, but the sunrise will come soon,
to make me sail away to celebrate life and freedom,
forgetting how long I had been a victim of boredom,
feeling the worthiness inside to behold a splendid sight...
Father of endless mercy, bless me as I thrive!
Old age is blessed with wisdom and white hair,
but many despise it and by hiding in the leper's lair;
youth was glorious and seemed everlasting indeed,
we all wish to get back to recall how young we appeared
in days that time erased too quickly from the visions we dreamed,
and besides happiness and vitality, all dreams were limited
to that certain period forever engraved on perceptual mind...
Father of endless mercy, bless me as I thrive!
PART I The Experiment
A person who makes bad decisions
Is it a secret motivation
True naive flexing a muscle only known as misery
I can't find an approach
I can't see the thoughts like doctor sleep
What is a true sacrifice
Does it not know comfort
Does it marry purpose
Ignore common and regular
Who feels like part of a bad decision
And still they sit
Idle in their comfort
To be discarded
labelled bad for my environment
PART II
A powerful shadow
Too at thought
Too ill of peace
I see you my dear hiding in your hell
There was no poison
My sweet love of perceptual chaos
When nothing plus nothing equals something
I will sit under the whispering willow tree
Waiting for substance waiting for the sun
Because it will be the only one left
We can not defeat
Done like dinner
But never defeated
To be Vessels of Selflessness
we're understanding that
through birth is our future unfolding;
carried upon the shoulders of guiltlessness;
through minds of inoffensiveness;
embraced by hands of innocuousness
and immersion..
In..
a world weaved through universal beholding;
we're creating with a heartfelt devotion;
touched by soul-moving adoration;
passing timeless connection;
for non-religious veneration
and amazement..
With..
our Beings' undeniable amorous Calling;
by the realization of the perceptual embodiment
of our Souls inevitable arbitraments
through their final awakenments
and remembrance of commitment
and loyalty..
To..
this place of Love and Belonging;
of immense transcended integrity.
That through deep Soulmate equality
we embedded Love as limitless security
for our children's souls immortality
and balance..
That..
They may Rise through their life's Morning;
safely see with a clear sighted acceptance.
Hear the Universe's never-ending resonance;
breathe the Now's vast guidance
of each moments healing absorbance
and recognition..
They are each Individual One's
and gifts of Love
Beauty beheld
in pupils
irises
expanding Spirit’s filaments
mind
deciphers
delicate
impressions
flowering nerve shiverings
heart petals unwrinkle exposing tender core
temporarily holds what is
to falter, fade
then dissipate
senses alert in
perceptual observation
bows gratitude
personality evaporates
as Beauty returns
into Source’s palms
we
ache
for
a raw rare repeat ~
__________________
Placed 7th : Brian Strand Premier Contest
On Beauty : Feb. 26