Long Planet Poems
Long Planet Poems. Below are the most popular long Planet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Planet poems by poem length and keyword.
No matter the country we were born in
We're all inhabitants of earth
Maybe ashamed to admit it sometimes
Our much treasured place of birth
Since time began we've battled each other
For what I haven't a clue
Just look around at the beauty you see
An astounding vista we view
Is there something this old guy is missing
Am I alone in my love of living
Am I a lonely voice in the wilderness
This land is so forgiving
We abuse it and misuse it every damn day
This God given paradise we share
Disgusting behaviour is being exhibited
Destroying our planet without care
Certainly not fair for us peace loving souls
Our cries for love go unheeded
But surely we shouldn't give up the fight
Some common decency is needed
Maybe before my day is finally done
Paradise will finally be at hand
When all good people of our dear planet earth
Will as one each treasure this land
The cosmos loves her, so they nurture her gladly
She has only had fine days, always respected
If she fell from the planet, the stars would catch her
She has led a charmed life, for she is charming
She is an earth angel, watched over by nurturing souls
The heavens loves her scientific mind
She studies astronomy and astrology, concocting her own theories
She is brilliant and adored; men want to be with her.
Women want to be her.
A great listener, she gets messages from the universe
Never focused on her own wants, she nurtures others.
When she reaches heaven’s gates, they say
Why don’t you become a greeter? Staying halfway?
What would I be able to do? She queries
You can help light the way for the others.
So she does.
what planet could this be for boys of ten
and then one hundred
movement felt,
looking at the hardened grain
of hands caressed
with fingers pressed against themselves
absorbing stillness’ breath
suspended in each air a pair
of warm yet liquid-frozen thoughts
captured
then released with care
youthful power to devour light
whose distance now
becomes serene
a slow suspended scene
in the moment captured
stretched like bubble gum or taffy
compressed
into the thinness of a dime
time
rolled between the fingers
ridged and perfect soft
wrapped
as cigarettes unsmoked,
moving miniature rolling pins
of skin like bread
gathered sweet
and then,
a fence to sit upon, a wall to scale
grains of surfaced roughness
where the smooth compare
the toughness of their skin
to skin a shin
upon a polished youth
with broken glass of bottles blowing
tins and rolls all gathered in
their stripes and plaids
and paisleys worn -
attempts to humanize
collateralized machine
we all want out, sometimes,
we all want in.
The dawning of Christmas eve .
I awoke this day – December 24th – all alone.
The dawning of Christmas eve – on my own.
The skies that greet my eye - shades of gray
this two thousand and two - Christmas eve day.
Slivers of – shards of orange peak through
the heavy gray blanket above, a time or two,
lighting up – in shades of rainbow –
that which should be – this day – snow.
It is not to be – it is just Jack Frost, you know,
sparkling like diamonds, reflections for me an you.
And so be it my friends, in B. C., it will have to do.
That a big che sara sara !!!
No ! ho, ho, ho, no!, ha, ha ha !!!
Father Sun, – hidden from view – has past his zenith.
Noon hour has come, has gone, passed away beneath
the clouded skies above, clouds that hid from view,
that westward walk, Sun, takes across our planet, blue.
All , has been kept from our sight, a need for me and you,
as I – in Mother Nature’s, embryonic fluid - lay,
within the porcelain walls of my beach and play,
surrounded by the heat of the Gulf stream,
contemplate, vegetate, meditate and dream
of those south sea, secluded islands
upon which I may not lay my hands.
B. J. “A” 2
December 24th 2002
Everyone I see,
with no exceptions.
They vibrate off the planet,
and leave me as I wait for
my resurrection.
I look around my room
Notice they're still here,
only I can see their eyes
have far more passion.
Now they smile at me.
Their foreheads more serene.
The angel ghosts within me, without me,
that live below my dreams
for my redemption.
For them I only cry
until my tear ducts are bone dry,
my aching head is clearer, calmer,
and I am finally ready
to look them in the eye
with warm intention.
"We come from you,"
the angels speak my name.
"Follow us through pain and darkness
and you will feel the same.
Because it was ordained for you
And all your brethren
That your world be void of all its sins
And gentle love replace your blame."
For Contemplation.
Song for My Father
A thank You Father.. and to Mom,
For creating me, that starlit,
breezy, Chicago, June night.
But why I asked, don't they
credit my heavenly Father?
You chose them with your
Creator's hands..then..
Wrote my full name in
Humanity's warm sand.
Poor souls, they had thought
of getting rid of me!
I heard them speak through Mom's cozy,
warm tummy.
I grabbed my oh so minuscule fingers
together in fear.
From my teeny face, rolled down a silent tear.
Thank God!
You woke them up from a
thought so hideous,
I still am here, amazed and quite delirious!
I walk the planet and you
gave me a daughter, too?
How wonderfully mysterious!
And her father......
Ah, so divinely delicious!
I Am An Alien
I am an alien to this world
Born of atoms created billions of years ago
Atoms which drifted through time
Across millions of light years of space
Not connecting until they came upon a blue green planet
Random events brought them together
Giving them the breath of life
The freedom to exist together yet on their own
Combining into chains and molecules
Until two one celled inhabitants of human bodies combined
That random event mixed just perfectly
And that spark of life once again ignited
I was born not long after
A member of the human species
Still an alien whose life began in the darkness of space
In the millionth of a second when nothing became everything
And I was created.
The world of Expectations
Expectations, do – in all likelihood – become frustrations.
They, in their painful anger, do become manipulations,
of both – both the aching heart and the fragile soul
and of the one’s you seem to want to know
and would prefer to show.
So, what one must do , is set them free, let them go
so that the seeds, one needs, in order to sow,
might have a chance – into something – grow.
Expectations, therefore laden the load, hamper creation,
making for uncertainties and difficulties in any situation.
WORDS
Words fly upon gossamer wings of invisible angles,
from sources of universal / internal, unseen energy,
to and through the fragile tips of my crystalline,
clear fingers, like specks of light, fireflies
out of the darkness of my mind, to light up,
- in shades of gray or rainbow colours, bright -
the empty spaces that wait to be filled.
Those pieces, - eight and a half by eleven – of paper,
pages I write, - for the sight of others – of shadows
that are cast upon the retinas of the minds that look,
upon, read, see, understand the essence of this old man.
Dawning of this day has come to us in untarnished,
Salvador Dalí, blues, chaperoned by a blinding glow
– that bright, life sustaining, golden orb radiating down –
giving light to this early mornings life, life in this tiny,
portion of this great blue planet – my multi coloured tomb,
my four cornered room, where loony size orbs , of violet,
indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red orbit, slither,
– in their cloak of rainbow colours – these coloured comets,
their tails streaking across, upon, all-around an ocean
of material objects, objects of historical value,
objects – a visual representations of , pages of my history
basking in the light of beautifully coloured flakes of rainbows,
drifting, rainbow specks, coloured splotches splashed across
the eggshell white bars of this prison I sometimes inhabit,
this tiny little universe washed in history and colours.
This beautifully coloured day was brought to me by crystals,
chipped at – pieces cut away by the hands of artisans –
by the hand of man to allow light – white and clear –
to be refracted, reflecting, releasing to sight, that which
the human eye is unable to comprehend, to see.
Rainbows filled my day – too bad they could not stay.
Then again, that would be asking to much, isn’t that the way ?
B. J. “A ” 2
October 27th 2002
I know him is my next-door neighbor, a popular loner.
I know him, he is a starseed reawakened from another world, Earthly language is to insufficient to explain the world he comes from.
I know him is a conduit between divine realms and the Earth, and he can transport between galaxies via meditation.
I know him. He lives between two worlds, the invisible and the visible, and always searching for home.
His soul carries him through space, time, and Stargates is here with us, but is there with others too.
His of other dimensions is here to help heal the planet and guide humanity .
He has zero to one or two friends as he is not part of the soul group (family) is only here to help.
He is extremely intelligent and, to the less evolved, seems as wacky to the normal, less evolved human.
He once told me he didn't like to be here. He doesn't like other humans that are less evolved, and he just wants to get out.
I know him. To him, materialistic wealth is only for kids. There is no self pride in wealth, he once told me.
His multidimensional thoughts make him see how all moments in time are happening now. Some people see him unearthly, too mysterious to comprehend.
He once told me he longs to be home. To him, Earth is a very low-vibrational planet, full of war, pollution, diseases, and corruption.
I know him. He is the Starseed.
By Chanda Katonga.
Without the love of another human being
The world is a lifeless place
The path to happiness is lined with pitfalls
Making it difficult to keep pace
But the undying love of a special someone
Helps us to make it through
The pitfalls all seem much less daunting
A much clearer path ensues
Why is it so difficult to get through our heads
Seems very simple to me
I'm not a brilliant philosopher or thinker
Just a simple minded S.O.B.
Us humans were always meant to find love
Or keep searching until we do
It's all a part of the great master blueprint
Love will always see us through
Without the love of another human being
The world is a lifeless place
Resembling a landscape of a distant planet
Best leave it without a trace
© Jack Ellison 2014