Long Reconciles Poems

Long Reconciles Poems. Below are the most popular long Reconciles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reconciles poems by poem length and keyword.


Glum Yet Grateful

Here comes the dawn
of a thoughtful Mourn. 
Month of the desecrated demise
of a Monumental personage.

Unpleasant feels beclouds the air
I consume,
My structure reconciles itself
to the dreadful wake of the dawn.

Hushed his grief within,
As though He counts it less.
Burdened the hearts become.
For the weight tears apart within.

Boundary with her,
Was the sweetness of existence.
In a tick of misery
Hard to lug

Uneasy to let slip
Oh Death where’s thy sting
So fresh is the love of the parted soul
Mourning till an afterlife

In her two gems he rejoices.
As life gives succor. 
Though Growth he beckons
For an extended home, before night falls.

Life’s unplayed cards
Relinquishes-daunts my being
Fathoming its depth
Again and again

Glum yet Grateful
For the Supreme One
Alone knows all and the why
We seem still within ourselves.

Three Decades plus Six
Yet I breathe 
To make proud
This Monumental Personage.
Form: Elegy


Premium Member Gift of Grace - 2


Light falls soft against my heart
Pouring joy through my soul
Preparing me to give with a love
That is more alive than the thought
Who breathes a prayer, a plea
For hope that leaves a heart freed
From darkness, despair and dread
Feelings that erase happiness
With a shadow of pain and grief
Coloring dreams in disbelief

Light pours out it’s wispy warmth
Beckoning to my heart, shining
Into the soul who knows He brings
Assurance to the discouraged
Illumination to the depressed
Enlightenment to the distressed
He guides hearts into hopefulness
Sends peace to those who fear
Reminds the silence to sing again
With a love that frees the heart
He fills the mind with gentleness
A tender moment of kindness
Inspiration for all that brings 
Wonder to those who praise Him

Light flows down from heaven above
Shimmering with blushing affections
Rising on the Son who is the pure love
Brought alive by His miraculous acceptance
Breathless inspiration cries to the soul
Who knows that God is always in control
He brings the heart a promise of beauty
Only found by the one who listens, eager
To glide into a dazzling dance, a waltz
Of laughter, lasting through the hesitation
From a heart who knows that this gift
Comes from the One who brings us love

This gift of grace is the answer to a prayer
Sent up from a heart who is crying out
For the One who reconciles us to our Father
Brings us an inspiration, a love, like no other!

Premium Member Midnight Poet

Whisper's of October  

Whispers in this soup bowl
20 minutes after its muse explodes,
Daylight remains nothing more than a dream 
Warding off the howling sound in mid-September's stream
Casting a line about a ginger light,
  found in the depths of everything
Engaging from the sitting twilight, numb, tranquilized 
Exposing and expressing the emotions found within
An attic lost in the Ancient sky  ---awaits 

A poetic hand is formed ---reaching out
A hissing whisper out of the darkness, 
Listen-in,  the echoes of October are calling
A halo, that reconciles a mysterious monarch moon
A mono grip in which summons a mysterious voice
  of sweet serenity
Poets posting poems along the midnight page
Each poet can compose a poem and mimic free fallen verses,
One might  call it a creative craving curse,
Webmaster's whose words speak for themselves
Voiceless-
They feel, and spills the will of idolized ink,
Blind-handed, splitting day from night

Warm whispers, needing no food to consume
Migraines of ink, feeding the soul
Burning Pages, overused pens
They've forgotten the pretty flowers
Living like lions, who never comes out of their dens
Murmuring and devouring, the enigmas of the unknown 
Eyes behind a sieve, close tighter than before, 
They hide nothing-
A world created from every sky-scrape the wall
Wanting to belong, a trick -or- treat*er in disguise 
No friends, everything is pretend
These poets can’t be described, can't be believed
They are the best in what they do
For all you know this poet might be me, 
This poet might be you

9/3/14

Premium Member Media

press ganged or poetry


head on collision with the truth

beheaded by ignorance’s sword

full steam towards censorship


synchronized fabrication

redacted news to follow

blank lines on the page …


               medium holds forth a renegade séance

               gives head to fine crystal ball bearings

               heeds the apt call for intuitive positions
			
                    
                              the media retort ‘naïve foolish emotions
		   
                              we lead up from the front behind centres
			
                              of power preserve the necessary status quo’


and yet the joker holds all the cards

seeds subversion rebels reconciles

reason emotion and figurative speech


‘my heart and essence are wide open books

it is not over before a rotund epilogue sings

spines are meant to stand tall and proclaim’


                              justice’s chant liberation and honesty

                              realignment of wheels out of control

                              chorus of critique of outdated lies


	       rhapsody instead of guillotine
		
               symphonic joy or firing squad
		
               advancement or apathetic arrest


beware of the trap door and deep pitfalls

before you decide which way to proceed

chopped heads or tale ends’ beginnings


                                       ... a no brainer unless you vote for demise

State of Fate

Through the faded door of never mind.
Couldn't find the button to rewind.
A lost cause that was left behind.
Two stars that just never aligned.

The what if's stayed where no one looked.
One little taste and then you're hooked.
The pot was boiling but nothing cooked.
Turn off the burner, room's been rebooked.

You walk the aisles browsing the styles.
And then check out as love beguiles.
Succumbing  from her gentle wiles.
As you wonder if love reconciles.

The past caught up too late to matter.
There's no one left pitching the batter.
The game's been canceled on account of chatter.
The rules only count for the mad hatter.

I'm going home where no one lives.  
I do what I want, no one forgives.
As the meaning wanes with derivatives'.
When the walls and the ceiling leak like sieves.

The past is still calling, the present is stalling.
Tomorrow's creeping, but barely crawling.
Till love come's again to find you falling.
And chances of hope don't end up appalling.
Form: Rhyme


I Celebrate My Beloved

I celebrate my beloved and that which made her 

The impassioned supercharged tenderness of her heart 

The inexhaustible treasures of warmth and compassion 

The strength that in horror retains beauty and clarity

I celebrate her heart. I celebrate her heart.

I celebrate my beloved and her spiritual masters 

Leonardo Da Vinci, Monet, Michelangelo, Jesus

Her gentle wisdom, heavenly softness and ethereal majesty 

Her mind focused on the exhalted and beautiful

Her unrelenting passion for the eternal

I celebrate her soul. I celebrate her soul. 

I celebrate the sun and the earth, the rain and the trees 

The cold perfect magnificence of the universe 

The enlightened ecosystemic wisdom of nature

The warm luscious gentleness of woman's body 

I celebrate the world. I celebrate the world. 

I celebrate human will and individuality 

The glorious co-creator within the universe 

The seeker of justice and knowledge 

The craftsman and fountainhead of progress 

I celebrate mankind. I celebrate mankind. 

I celebrate my beloved, for she contains all that is beautiful

 And in her nature, God and civilization produce the most glorious consummation known to man 

That reconciles pieces and gives a unified paradise. 

Awaken, my soul, to the majesty of the universe. 

Awaken, my soul, to the greatness of human spirit. 

Awaken, my soul, to the glory of God. 

Awaken, my soul, to the beauty of my beloved.

Premium Member I gaze upon the spectrum of the past in rainbows and oil stains

I gaze upon the spectrum of the past in rainbows and oil stains,
The lights dissolve into a sea of colors, of green, blue, and red,
And I fade with them, like a dream slipping away at dawn,
I sigh my words onto the window, a silent poem meeting your gaze.
On nights like this, even breathing becomes a heavy task,
I hold your hand, but in your palms lies the weight of an unyielding war,
You watch me weep the tears of a life, a river of memories,
In a silence that sings the burden of an unspoken farewell.
There must be a way out, a path from the labyrinth of shadows,
Where light reconciles with darkness, and the soul finds peace,
A place where goodbye becomes a gentle whisper, carried by the wind,
And where the heart can learn to beat again, free from the weight of the past.
So I let the rainbow embrace me, to wash my colors clean,
As I move away from the specters that held me captive,
Seeking that corner of the sky where silence embraces hope,
And where parting becomes just a step toward a new day.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

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