Long Quasars Poems
Long Quasars Poems. Below are the most popular long Quasars by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quasars poems by poem length and keyword.
At night, the sky morphs into
Black velvet: its ebony
Creases glistening with stars.
Darkness engulfs a wobbly
Earth spinning on its axis,
Forever circling the sun:
Gliding silently through space,
Held in place by gravity.
Imagine: an eternal
Journey into the unknown
Kingdoms of both time and space.
Lights appear in the sky like
Magic, when the sun sets, and
Night is put on full display.
Orbiting the Earth, the moon's
Pull sets tides to ebb and flow.
Quasars spin and pulsars pulse,
Revolving at super speeds;
Sending synchronized flashes
Throughout the fabric of space.
Uranus and Mars sink, as
Venus and Neptune ascend.
While Jupiter basks in the
X-rays streaming from the sun.
Yet, seeing a shooting star
Zip through the sky: tops them all.
THE UNIVERSE
Big Bang exploded on void cosmos creating Universe in nanoseconds.
Space and Time started journey.
Nova, Supernova, Nebulae, Galaxies in misty gaseous canopy.
Quasars, Pulsars, Stars came in successive harmony.
Trivial ordinary star Sun with Solar System in vast Universe
Just comparable with a dust particle in Sahara Desert.
Tiny Earth feels shy not being salient.
Human race in trifling position amidst flora and fauna of Earth
Personal importance is ridiculous:
Where am I?
07/02/19
Stars spontaneously ignite
into lights that adorn the night.
And each new sun secures its place
in the fabric of time and space.
Quasars and pulsars spin so fast
that they emit a photon blast.
Miracles galaxies contain,
rival those in Heaven's domain.
Infinity can't be defined,
the universe boggles the mind.
But eternity plays with time,
letting us witness the sublime.
Space holds mysteries to explain,
hidden truths; we've yet to obtain.
And despite what religion says,
Man yearns to explore nature's ways.
From the big bang, data is gleaned,
magic unfurls, and hope gets weaned.
And we approach exaltation
in the midst of God's creation.
(Rhyme)
8/6/2015
The mind empowered with desire -
The heart upon a dragon's back -
From depths of hell, Intricate Fire
Spring into life! And don't look back!
Through caves, through shafts, and through volcanos -
Into the clouds in ruby plumes -
Through things both exquisite and heinous -
Intricate fire to burn presumes.
What is your source? Who is your ruler?
Upon which start and to what end?
Reasoned from what, and in what manner?
Through context, based on which intent?
In forest, wildfire without pity;
Midst people, the electric light -
Moderate doses light a city;
Extremes burn holes in the night -
What will you char? What will you nourish?
And what transfigure, into whom?
What will in warmth you give off flourish?
What will be in your heat consumed?
Smashing through crust, and into air -
And with that feat of passion done
Springing past construct and despair -
But what is closer to the sun?
Crust breaks, that fire might meet the surface
And show what is that made the earth;
And then beyond, there is the cosmos,
That gave both earth and fire its birth!
And then beyond, galactic matter
And then - more, more, and endlessly
Simplicity complexly scattered
From simply hewn complexity:
Quasars, black holes, energized darkness,
The sugar in the Milky Way
Particle-waves, relative timespace
Between the galilean frames -
But do not pause yet on your journey!
So much to see, so much to be!
Abyss of stars appear before you
And in them - blended - destiny:
To meet the sky, and like a comet
To blaze the path around the sun
Through Milky Way and out beyond it
And through it, out into the One!
Or two! Or three! Or the forever
Beyond the known aleph null -
Into the endless Everywhere -
Burst, fire, and never ever fall:
Spring into the eternal purpose
And only then you can be free:
From magma's heart and into Cosmos -
Intricate fire! Burn through me!
Dice in Outer Space
A dice occupied a part of space o'er three weeks ago,
I saw it reside without rockiness, roll or drift to weigh,
Only debris floating in the hollowed terrific atmosphere,
Could steal that cubic regality of it’s dignity in cruel slay.
But it did not! Or when present, it did not in blissful glee,
For in that sharp moment a splendid skiff fell from above -
I saw the dice in all its semiotics of multifaceted identity,
Embellish yet echo the presumed emptiness of the glove.
Beside me greeted stars, moon, whetted Mars, quasars,
But the giant in sweet surprise moved and claimed a grin;
Its semantics hit in semiotic spread binomially distributed,
All in me found a meaning amid that societal shriek din.
Random but creating the rational: humans, animals, plants,
One roll of the silent, saline dice rained waterfalls in power;
A slight of hand tilted destiny’s child peeking and glimpsing,
For the swift air to cuddle its sheerly innocent bent tower.
Somatic development bloomed a phenotype in rich display,
Social evolution scooped that prize secured before a trace,
Vocalising tribal calls cut the beholder’s hope to denounce,
Their drive for the female dressed in ovum for sperm case.
But this family - me, you, cherish still moments of freedom,
When ecstasy rolls the waterfalls of two bodies harmonising,
Into one synchronous whole pounding with the life-pulse bold,
Transforming individuality to join with the mesh globalising.
The die, cradling the social with quickening consistent tie,
Files economic highs for tomorrow’s feed, pleading to know,
The happiness of the CEO reigning down joyous bonuses,
Enabling restaurants to serve sumptuous cuisine aglow.
And to medicine wherein the random nests, hiding its kin,
Academia and pharmaceuticals search spare but by step:
Postured algorithms fibre the genetic code, the cell division,
Discovering blazing makeup to aperture the random footstep.
I’ll sleep no sleep of death, while I am here!
There’s work to do, I’ll fight, while it is day!
I’ll be your hands and feet, for you are near
As my own heart… your Presence, something fey
And golden as a halo made of stars,
A wreath of laurels, rosemary and bay
Laid at the feet of God. Sing like quasars,
You thrones and principalities of light!
For One has come, in Christ, to lift up Joy!
Injustices loom large, and seem, in spite
To steal the gladness from the hoi polloi
And leave us wandering, alone… the slight
Need not be borne, my love, now you’re in play!
Your Angels come, bring showers of Pure Delight!
Not to belittle the real Church of God
Not to belittle the real benefits of communion
Not to belittle kneeling and praying for a miracle
Not to belittle the laying of hands
Not to belittle a good bear hug
Not to belittle the hope of Christ’s return
Not to belittle the Wrath of God
Not to belittle the trials and tribulations of living
Not to belittle delusions of grandeur
Not to belittle the pain I feel
Not to belittle wars and rumors of wars
Not to belittle Global warming
Not to belittle the great I AM
Not to belittle the prophets of the Ages
Not to belittle Buddha’s nonthought philosophy
Not to belittle fairies in the flowers
Not to belittle the sounds that Whale’s make
Not to belittle the awe of a perfect Sunrise or Sunset
Not to belittle the Man in the Moon
Not to belittle Black Holes, Quasars and the immensity of the Universe
Not to belittle microorganisms and viruses
Not to belittle the glorious honey bee’s make
Not to belittle the missing books in the Bible that women wrote
Not to belittle the tear that trickles down my left eye
Not to belittle sin and its impact on the human soul
Not to belittle other people’s pain
Not to belittle our belief that aliens are real
Not to belittle my cat’s purring
Not to belittle my neighbor’s beautiful lawn
Not to belittle Superstar's getting rich, they deserve it
Not to belittle being just a pawn
Not to belittle the atrocities committed by Man
Not to belittle feeling so alone in the Universe
Not to belittle the pheromones of truth
Not to belittle that The End is always near
Not to belittle truth from the mouth of babes
Not to belittle Bhai's attempt to unite religions
Not to belittle the Sufi’s dance
Not to belittle the Witch’s brew
Not to belittle the Medicine of the Drum
Not to belittle my belief in Pan
Not to belittle the Heavy Metal screams
Not to belittle pipe dreams and cold sweats
Not to belittle the glow worm’s glow
Not to belittle the lion’s roar
Not to belittle when the earth quakes
Not to belittle when volcano’s blow
Not to belittle my belittling thots
but Poetry Church is all I got.
i have touched a thousand suns
danced thru constellations infinite
lost myself wrapped in galaxies dreaming
tossed mercilessly from vortex to vortex
ran amok in meteoric showers across foreign skies
hidden in the eclipse shadows
pondered beneath the northern lights
in the purple-crimson sunsets
as quasars bore down on me
all of the glory the celestial heavens offer
none compare as watching the moonlight
softly in silence coming thru the window
gracing the face asleep next to me
a demanding volcanic lunacy
held in a breathless rapture
where time ceases
a vision escaping into eternity
the moon in its adoration
of the face asleep next to me
Oregon 10/23
I craft poems by evening time since I can't slumber.
I'm dreary of the one with a springtime splendor.
I'm lacking in rest, shrewdness, and moral dignity.
I've lost my aware vicinity and spotless anger.
We are not blinded by flies, owls, or moral agony.
It's not the fatal quiet or the sun's loss that's injury.
This isn't a chorus wraiths in the lush hedging.
The drab caveats of another day induce dark dubiety.
Nebulae, stars, neutrons, and quasars are all fledgling.
Dismal holes with some pale and green dwarf lighting
Blooms to be merely seen or to be picked in billion years.
This is the chronicle of the star nights, every evening.
Every night blurs you from my sight, yet, shed the tear.
I wish for a splendid twilight and consistent star seer.
I trust the rife angel's whisper and recall our discourse.
My awe, once the chalice in grasp was deep, rest clear.
Our spurn requital to God wanes our sole act of alertness.
While ebbing pristine streets toward the swift darkness
We scrutinize the cosmos, yet we are witless of his might.
Due to the safety risks of glass shards bits in the chalice
Wishing I had a hundred mates to gather around light.
My soul suffers in a gentlefolk that scorns peace bight.
Yet I shudder at the cogitation of starving to death alone.
Life is amazingly brief not to raise a chalice to reunite.
Written: January 17, 2022
The Chalice of Night Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
I did not think you knew what an azimuth was, I said to Guy.
“I am not a Neolithic,” he told me with a sniff, I know why…
Some people misjudge this brilliant child of two months past twelve.
His mind goes where others have never had the chance to delve.
What do you use it for? I asked, testing him just a bit.
“to install satellite dishes,” he said. He is a precocious little chit.
We were at the Wambuul river where the Casuarina trees grow.
Not an elegant place, but it suited us down to each toe.
Guy suggested knapping a bit of flint while we were here.
I had some of my tools so I said “of course, why not? where?”
His mind was lightyears away, for he had his brain in a book.
Reading about quasars, for his mind grabs knowledge like a hook.