Long Recognized Poems
Long Recognized Poems. Below are the most popular long Recognized by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Recognized poems by poem length and keyword.
What temptress is this that calls to me
and fills my heart with wanton bliss?
She wears a veil of showers
oft mistook as tears,
as She tiptoes through fields of melting snow;
wrapped in a misty shawl of fog.
Who is this whimsical sprite;
this paradigm of hope,
silently luring me to her bosom?
Highlighted by a beam of sunlight
I thought I caught a glimpse of her face;
reflected off a drop of water,
as it trickled down a melting icicle.
And then, I felt Her hugging me,
ever so gently.
Her breath was warm as a Spring breeze
and I recognized April.
Her tantalizing scent, flippant ways
and sunny disposition,
gave Her away.
In the signs of the zodiac, the ram and the bull
both share Her heart.
And yet, April shares my heart as well;
for I was born in Her presence.
And each year, She marks my birth,
with a celebration of life;
and a plethora of wildflowers.
Little dish of a thing tiny and humble,
standing tall at the heart of them all,
hose in hand a quiet thing. Said hi to me.
Right there at the beat of the Dark Tower
and I knew before a second or an hour,
that it's true. I said hi to her too.
Her mind carries the Uni.Verse. Not three
digit but more in her eyes, I could see it
recognized. Little dish of a thing washes
the dishes I bring. Sever passes dirty
the plates to sea a washer washing
inside the machine. We said hi on day 2.
Again.
"Do you know high math" when you wash?
Eyes gleaming behind the mist and noise,
the Washer kept watch with silver poised,
for the cleaning. Her layer is steaming hot
and her eyes scream know me not... but,
I befriended her anyway.
Because she plays. There in the Passage and
framed in the Gates our eyes met Lights in a
beam of water and steam our eyes, both gleam.ing
Sounds of the machine are screaming and Time
isn't moving as we See. You are Me echoes
two in recognition in Vision, In Number. Old
schooled and humble in silent knowing we stood
passing the dishes to and fro in and over the
flow of water, eyes burning with a knowledge of
the Ancient Great Fire.
And we hug in exchange of a glance
.... called recognition. Little dish of a wish
I made came true when she called me by
a friendly name too. Then we shook hands
knowing that we'd speak again.
Our arrangements set firm.
The Washer faded Way then.... her eyes pull
back into the Myst and the dishes bang. Only
silence now from the machine...
Good work began...
In a Great Friendship, Just. Beginning.
~In Universal Understanding~
~There Came a Great Land.~
An unbeliever is not really different
from an atheist, their thoughts are equal...
wallowing in bigotry with no truth to tell.
They defiance is demonstrated in arrogant phrases,
woe to you believers! Don't let them deceive you!
The lion devours anyone who's feeble and powerless.
Post your banner of faith and make them scamper,
and see them retrieve into their loathsome anger...
feel no pity or sympathy...let them fee their agony.
When a godly man states his views on spiritual matters,
he is surely disliked for declaring this truth with sincerity and boldness;
in ancient times, there was such an unquestionable, faithful man,
King David was the humblest and most virtuous one...
when it came to writing psalms and praise His Creator,
for he was wonderfully made and his thankfulness conveyed it more.
Defend your faith, there are many snakes hiding in the tall grass and one of them
seemingly asleep, will bite you to inject his deadly venom...
be careful and watch that serpent with a diligent eye and recognized bigotry.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
When I see images of moorland or fells,
I say to myself,
‘yes that particular moor is mine,
that mountain is my mountain.’
Then when I see people walking on
a moor path that I used to walk on
or climbing familiar mountains
that I once climbed
I often wonder what I left there,
that still makes them mine.
When Ohio knocks on my door
and rattles my windows;
I say to myself
‘that is my door and my window,’
yet I puzzle over
what I will leave here
when my boots have walked
every inch of this little patch
of suburbia, and if those shoe prints
on wet paving’s will ever be
recognized as me or mine?
An extreme silence characterized the night, when an elegant gentleman arrived to the remote town, when every body knew each other, and a new face was recognized inmediately. He entered to a cocktail lounge called The Mist. There was a lady who sang in the place, that enchanted all the gentlemen with her melodious voice as a siren. Synchronization was playing a role in their lives without even know it.
Sudden breeze charged with the energy that born when two souls recognize each other, was felt in the air immediately between the two strangers. He cannot miss the opportunity to meet her. He introduced himself as Alphonse. The singer name was Alphonsine. Coincidence of names and fates. The black dress she was wearing gave her a charming appeal that Alphonse could not take it out of his mind.
He invited her to a cup of red wine. She accepted. Alphonse had heard about her voice and he wanted to hear her singing. He was a lonely man with bad luck with women. His relationships broke up without explanation. Alphonsine was single. She had never married. Many of their songs were about his fate in love. The closing hour of The Mist was near. They say goodbye and agreed to meet in The Mist next day.
Candles and flowers decorated the table when Alphonse and Alphonsine sat. They talked about their life experiences. She exuded a charm that mesmerized Alphonse. He invited her to dance. Without hesitating, Alphonse told to Alphonsine that she was the love of his life and that he wanted to marry her. Alphonsine accepted the proposal, marrying one year later, and leaving behind The Mist, the place when a love at first sight began.
Example For Romance In The Night Contest
7-30-2016
I heard a shout from the crowd
Set the guilty free
To this day I still think about
Why him and not me
I'd heard the man was innocent
That he'd done nothing wrong
As he said underneath his breath
Forgive them, they no not what they've done
I made my way that day out of harms way
Swearing never to look back
But felt the urge, wouldn't call it courage
That held me down where I was at
Following at a short distance
The one who took my palce
With a strong need for forgiveness
I still hold to this day
Through it all with him on trial
I felt the guilt, the shame
Could not help but think about
Me being partially to blame
As he stood there in silence
A lamb being led to slaughter
The hungry wolves would have his head
He'd be dead by tomorrow
Guilty came the verdict
To the worlds sigh of relief
As once again I wondered
Why him Lord, not me
I followed along as he carried his cross
Hoping not to be recognized
You never know how far a crowd will go
Or when a mob could change their mind
This is the other side of the story
From the day I was set free
The day my life was changed when I
Watched the Prince of Peace hang on that tree
Dying for the sin of you and me
In the mountains it’s our tradition to delay our morning walk
so we can listen to the morning choir that begins promptly at six-o’clock.
Yes, at six-o’clock every morning without uttering a word
as the dawn breaks over the mountain we sit and listen to the chorus of the birds.
The singing can be heard all around us…through the birds are hidden in the trees
their voices blend so beautifully carried gently on the breeze.
Our first morning in the mountains was a truly wonderful scene…
so many voices singing their morning song…we counted seventeen.
We recognized the cardinal and the blue jay…birds we often see
We heard a nuthatch, a woodpecker, the Carolina wren and chickadee.
We heard warblers, robins, a titmouse, as their voices ebb and flow
a vireo, a phoebe, a towhee and a crow.
After showing our appreciation…the next morning…again at six
as we listened to the new song…six more birds were added to the mix.
More warblers and a grosbeak shared with us their gift…
as did a different kind of nuthatch, a catbird and a chimney swift.
The next morning I imagine realizing this is a performance we both love
we were joined by a scarlet tanager, a sparrow…and a dove.
This morning as I try to describe this mellifluous harmony…
(it’s difficult to find the words)
joining the ever-expanding chorus is a goldfinch, and a hummingbird
Even in a morning rain…using the trees as their umbrella
These birds sing out their morning chorus…with no music…Acapella.
It’s a beautiful way to begin our day…
and for the rest of the day there is a bounce a lilt to the way we walk.
compliments of the birds
who share with us their beautiful voices
every morning at six-o’clock
#My_abandoned_friend
Focused so much on my grind and neglected you, tossed you so far, less I knew how wild and unsafe this universe was, today i saw my contributed evil deeds, evident all over your face, hardly recognized the once illuminative smile, could hear the fading and in crawling stage the laughter you made,
realised how wrong have I totally been, for looking only where I was headed, forgot that I once vowed to friend you come what may, so much has this life snatched from you, so much i ran out of objects around me when counting , so shameful i call myself a friend, your friend in particular,
saying this with shame ,today I met a friend, a once good one for that matter, after so much many years, realised how savaging indeed this life was capable, so lil of what was,
realised how much life has taken its toll over you, so much only so little in your presence I could familiarize, realised how irreparable, time and space has taken away from our friendship, so bad my peace still restless,
so much has this time taken from you, so little I could still say we once had, so fearful and scary I wish had never left our friendship station, for all was just picture perfect, now the future painting we jointly painted, has just few pieces of what was, so bad one would deny if that was what was,
how bad I blame myself for leaving so early, I mean chasing my dreams by self, how selfish was it of me, today I saw the scattered pieces of that friendship, broken so bad one would barley noticed its once existence, realised how failed I have failed you, how selfish was I in my hustle, so selfish even in my prayers, though I call myself a believer
like a mirror, she carried so much broken pieces in her smile and there lied my failure, I have failed not only her but our friendship, like Judas Escariot, my deception weigh so heavy upon my conscience, my abandoned friend
#Poetic_Ink
What happened in America's past
is a truth too hard to swallow,
and because of a few who did much wrong:
blame was put on an entire race,
and now the stain is washed away,
and all people rejoice and pray!
The winner is elected President,
and the defeated congratulates him...
with moving words filled with humbleness,
and sheds no tears of disappointment!
If his dream becomes our dream,
there's a better reason to sing:
the hymn of freedom and brotherhood,
to forever change that undignified image in an exuberant moment
and be viewed differently by the peoples of the world
that have finally seen her divided people come together and celebrate!
Decades ago, this all seemed impossible to envision...
someone to embark on a long journey and deliver the promise
to all with an indissoluble and unswerving certainty,
defining his victorious moment and sharing it with them:
while his strong voice thunders among frantic faces,
making history in the sacred name of liberty...
being recognized and watch the stain being washed away after all,
but the toughest challenge is to achieve what he promised!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
He was looking at a picture of his wife…thinking of their first date… first kiss…
and now that she is gone…all the things that he will miss…
“You look sad.” the young girl said to him as he sat upon ‘their’ rock
“Sometimes I get sad too.” she said…but he didn’t want to talk.
“Why are you here all by yourself?” He asked.
“What are you doing talking to me?”
“Don’t you have someplace else to go?”
“Someplace else you need to be?”
“Do you like ice cream?” she asked
“How long since you were born?”
“How dangerous is it to pet a snake?”
“Have you ever seen a unicorn?”
The old man tried his best not to answer…but there was something about her smile he adored…
and as the questions kept on coming…she was too hard to ignore.
“I’ve never seen a unicorn.” he said
“Snakes are dangerous…you know.”
“I like my ice cream chocolate…and I was born a long, long time ago.”
She kept asking questions because that’s what a little girl does
and as the old man kept responding he forgot how sad he was.
After a while from atop that rock he was now happily sitting on
he turned to thank the little girl
but he couldn’t
she was gone.
He looked but could not find her.
Where was she?
He didn’t know…but she took with her his sadness
she took with her his woe.
“It can’t be…can it! he wondered after sitting there a while
and returning to the picture of his wife he nodded,
“I thought I recognized that smile."