Long Phoenix Poems
Long Phoenix Poems. Below are the most popular long Phoenix by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Phoenix poems by poem length and keyword.
In those fearful time's by memories clear,
James McLain, a soul once gripped by fear.
Within the labyrinth of my own mind,
The Mandela effect, a twist defined.
Through unfairly, I faced a daunting fate,
Unjustly convicted by the state.
Mental tempests, an internal weight.
Florida's prisons, a brutish place a primitive place,
My resilience endured despite the state.
Fifteen years entrenched in strife,
Raped by other's most now dead.
James endured the tumult of prison life.
But within his core, a spirit resilient,
A survivor's tale, uncowardly told.
In echoes of despair, a whisper grew,
Hope emerging, a steadfast view.
Through bars and chains, my spirit free,
James McLain, triumphant decree.
With each passing day, redemption's flight,
A phoenix rising, reclaiming the light.
The Mandela effect, rewritten by grace,
James' story echoes in time and space.
Where there is injustice I remain disgraced.
Drinking is an emotional experience, an elixir that pulls you from the monotony of everyday life,
It takes you out of ordinary patterns, from all that is identical and dull, like a story told too many times,
It tears you from your body and mind, throws you against the invisible walls of your own existence,
I feel that drinking is a form of permitted suicide, a ritual of death from which you are reborn the next day.
It's as if you kill yourself only to be born again, like a Phoenix from the ashes of your own decisions,
And with each glass, I feel like I've lived ten or fifteen thousand lives by now,
Each sip is a journey to the abyss and back, a fall into the void and an ascent to the light,
A melancholic dance between end and beginning, between forgetting and remembering, an endless cycle of renewal.
Each night becomes its own universe, a space of emotional disorder, a chaos full of meaning,
And the morning is a blank canvas, a new life in which to rewrite the story, to try again,
This is how I live, oscillating between destruction and creation, between loss and rediscovery, a pendulum of the soul,
In a continuous balance between losing yourself and finding yourself, in a game of life and death, with each sunrise.
Fried chicken and warm corn bread
Greasy fingered lips
Fellowshipping church members
Eating and talking
With sweet iced tea, they
Royally—
Dined!
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
© Joseph S. Spence, Sr., (Epulaeryu Master) 10/1/08
All Rights Reserved, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA
Senior Advisor, to Founder of Motivational Strips
Ambassador De Literature
Noble Star of Literature 2018
Living Legend of the 21st Century
Pentasiv B World Friendship Poetry Featured Poet 2019
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
Joseph is the inventor of the Epulaeryu poetic form. He is a currently studying "Language
and Linguistics." He has traveled the world and speaks several languages. The “Epulaeryu”
consists of seven lines with thirty-three (33) syllables and ends with an exclamation mark.
The essence of the Epulaeryu poem is about succulent meals and drinks.
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
Joseph S. Spence, Sr., is the author of "The Awakened One Poetics" (2009), which is
published in seven different languages. He invented the Epulaeryu poetry form, which
focuses on succulent cuisines and drinks. He is published in various forums, including the
World Haiku Association; Poetinis Druskininku, Milwaukee Area College, Phoenix Magazine;
Möbius Poetry, and Taj Mahal Review to name a few. Joseph is a Goodwill Ambassador for
the state of Arkansas, USA, a college faculty, and a military veteran.
~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~
Nectared graces overwhelming must
Underline your pulse-halting charms;
Utopian opal spelt by honeyed terms,
Resistless pearl cased in mortal dust.
Fair-miened nymphs kings did melt;
But such sly vixens, like old Phoenix
Acing artful Death's ambrosial tricks,
Would find your rig a conundrum yet.
Dead fancy's fairy in gowns of wool,
Would vote this trim flawless figure
Finer than fiction's gildings meager;
Nature’s art unsullied by apish tool.
Nor would pageant-lauded beauties,
Though posh their foppish styles be;
With roses laureled in limitless glee,
Dim this time's own queen of cuties.
Where lurks this sure paragon high,
Beauty-capped acme of poets' tales;
Yet glamorous and unbeaten in vales
Of breath and death where jewels lie?
When my best friend from junior high betrayed me, I felt like
a mighty bird flying high on friendship’s wings that had just got shot down
by a poisonous dart, which pierced my heart. But a Phoenix, I'd rise up.
I felt like a soldier as I marched the half-block to my "friend's" house.
Any trepidation I’d been feeling was replaced by indignation.
How dare she let my enemy listen in on our private phone call,
egging me on to say things that would make me seem the villain.
At our school was a girl with the reputation of a very nasty girl.
She’d even challenged me one time to a fight at the park after school.
I’d felt that day like a sheep being led to slaughter, trying to be brave
but filled with relief when that mean girl did not even show up for the fight.
My best friend had allowed this awful girl for some strange reason
to listen in as I talked about my best friend’s brother Danny,
a boy that my foe and I both had crushes on. Toward the end of our chat,
I shared my opinion on my foe, who let a holler loose; I knew she'd heard all!
Now I stood at my so-called friend’s door – to let her know I’d not be mocked.
My foe who had cursed me on the phone a short while ago was in hiding.
She never did come out! I felt like a lioness, ready to pounce!
My words were my sword as I put aside my usual passiveness, and I roared!
Feb. 12, 2023
for the "I Felt Like Poetry Contest" of Charles Messina
From the depths of struggle, where shadows loom and hide,
I'll rise, unbroken, with a spirit that won't subside.
Like a phoenix from the ashes, I'll emerge anew,
With flames that fuel my soul, and a heart that's pure and true.
Through life's trials and tribulations, I'll find my way,
With every step, I'll rise, and chase the darkness away.
I'll stand tall and unafraid, like a mountain strong and high,
Unshaken by the winds of doubt, and the storms that pass me by.
The mountains I'll climb, the oceans I'll swim,
I'll conquer every obstacle, and rise above the din.
Through fire and rain, I'll walk, unshaken and unmoved,
For in the midst of storms, I'll find peace, and a love that's improved.
With every breath, I'll pray, and seek guidance on my way,
For strength to carry on, through life's trials and swaying.
I'll rise, like the morning sun, that chases away the night,
And brings new hope, and new light, to all that's been fought for in the fight.
Tears will dry, and disappear, like morning dew,
Problems will vanish, like mist that the sun pursues.
No sorrow, no worries, no struggle, tomorrow will bring,
For I'll rise, like dust that's lifted, by the wind's gentle wing.
My dreams will be fulfilled, my desires, all that I've prayed,
A new chapter will unfold, and the old me will be displayed.
The mockers, and the snickers, will be silenced, and shamed,
For I'll rise, like the sun, in all its glory, proclaimed.
I'll shine like diamonds, reflect light, and sparkle bright,
I'll glow like gold, refined, in the fire, and made pure, and light.
I'll be a beacon of hope, in a world that's lost its way,
A shining star, that guides others, through the darkness of each day.
I was never born to suffer, I'm a winner, through and through,
A finisher, not just a starter, a victor, with a story anew.
I'll rise, and I'll shine, and I'll make my mark,
A trailblazer, a pathfinder, with a heart that's left its spark.
when ego truly dissolves
with no phoenix like resurrection
presence is still but the world revolves
seen then as but a thought form projection
not one with but rather as the energy field
as the very substratum of all existence
truth of God unmanifest is revealed
from Whom there is no distance
luminous darkness of high density
motionless consciousness as the all
potent power hum of infinite immensity
within itself creates worlds as a bliss squall
we as a spark of God are in fact the whole
limitation arises from flawed perception
save exhuming ego there is no goal
duality is a matrix of deception
we are God’s self-existent light
fragrance of love is our effulgence
bliss our nature that we frolic in delight
as bliss dew drops on all nodes condense
Ah, luminous white she blooms a deceptive ghost
lover of dark arts ripe in charisma and night
moon seducer logic diffuser defense reducer
user of dreams abuser of romance
tempter-serpent twines and vines
a tendril's slither …shh noiseless
vanilla viper— she’s a fever teaser
damn well make you a heartbreak believer
celestial and terrestrial she’s a territorial force
spider-vein-lightning crackles across neuronal nebulae
behind your glister eyes firework-fantasies flicker
desire— a brush fire— engulfs your cerebral star fields
razing you to burn red marrow to ash...
oh you long— you long to be the phoenix on her pyre
writhing to rise again and again
you yearn to pluck her play her possess her
place her in a solitary bud vase
share your lust of ardor with hungry admiration
resist the thirst of your hands to touch
resist the airy lariat of her buttercream-spice
resist the thirst of your taste buds to baste in her taste
as honey-whines drip from her summer-wine lips
poised in parted pout to poison you
physical and ethereal she wears an imperial crown
she steals your stars and flaunts them in her eyes
dare her when she unfurls— a swan against black satin
she’ll wrestle your heart from your chest
burst it with pin-prick-pupils of scorn
save it in her cat’s paw purse for her verse—
before she mousetraps your bleats and mercy pleas
within the mantrap of her parasol pleats
leaving you alone to skin your soul
and mend the hole where your old self ends
while your new self melts into moans you now own
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill, of things unknown, but longed for still, and his tune is heard on the distant hill, for the caged bird sings of freedom-
Maya Angelou
Reality may be a poetic cocktail of pistachio and pecan,
yet it tastes the same as bittersweet betrayals,
saturated in plum flavors of pain.
There’s no antidote without a verse woven in vain,
feeding fire of life with red threads of fate,
hanging on fiery jewels ornamented across a phoenix gate.
Ostracized from a cautionary tale that lacks the essence of an empath,
oblivious to wicked winds of flames burning every truth written in temporary stillness.
But, the world that I love hates me in sheer shades of shame,
shoving my needs to a chained chamber-
of the saint and the sinner lost in an already designed game.
And I question in prose of mutilated rhymes,
will I ever heal in hell that shattered my will to flee from senseless spells?
for the devil bought and sold me to the malignant valleys.
Now I’m throned in trickeries painted with multicolored masquerades and toxic trinkets.
When battles fought are of emperors leading unseen wars,
I am caught in a moment where melancholic musings engulf my midnight sun,
I ponder, does the silent bird feel the weight of its wings?
Or are we confined eagles lured with rose diamond dreams,
still surviving through stolen songs of the damned woodland crickets?
unable to let go and attain an eden with no history of scandalous sagas.
We are in search of starry nights that will never dim their rays upon our souls,
as only in darkness can you see the light that consoles:
aching hearts in search of clustering comets cloaked in implicit desires and love beyond gold spun galaxies.
Fistful butterflies sway along with the wind.
Ever frolicking through the vibrant desires.
Fistful sand slipping down in haste.
Unbothered about the delays and tussles around.
Fistful days flipping over.
Highlighting every single day.
Fistful memories binding themselves together.
Creating a most treasured treatise.
Fistful wishes probable, contingent or disguise.
Forever igniting the coal inside.
Fistful choices through the passable maze.
Attempt to escape but no respite.
Fistful thoughts sparkling out of palpitating chords.
Capable of entangling entire life.
Fistful learning running through the veins.
Enabling sturdy stature to prevent the derail.
Fistful steps towards the embarkation.
Creating a journey that travels through the stars.
Fistful smiles fluttering around in joy.
Contagiously sorting out the difficulties and sorrow.
Fistful opportunities that emanate from hard work.
Enough to be the cynosure through the rise.
Fistful always lets the phoenix rise.
Every creation is a conscious choice.
Fistful time .....may what....may I write!
3min Write' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
Dated: 16.09.2024