Long Reconstruct Poems
Long Reconstruct Poems. Below are the most popular long Reconstruct by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reconstruct poems by poem length and keyword.
I already understand that children
grow inside two blinks,
as quickly as the novel Mayfly
comes to the surface to die.
I'm pining for those first days again,
of edentate smiles, milestones
to fund future independence.
Pineapple-sized hearts I cradled;
lulled, exchanged dank nappies for dry;
ferried on uncrossed seas,
your armada.
Smoothed rough waters as if by divine speech
because mothers can. I was thinking that I could always be your oxygen.
I let you walk through me, under, right over.
The rocking horse
brought for my bromelain angels
winged you away -
this blasted Pegasus ...
I miss you now.
How you rode away,
ephemera of innocence!
So, what then?
Me, fumbling wild in the backspace you left.
Your flabbergasting key smash to freedom
broke our finespun home, you left
me to talk to your father, Child,
to renegotiate
the bonds;
reconstruct ancient code,
deleted excess text -
obfuscating precision and knowing -
the tribal tongue of lovers
unlearned, forgotten;
escaped alongside discarded baby bath suds,
strewn puddles of rubber duckies,
tired breasts suckled
by fresh management.
I OPENED A DOOR IN THE UNIVERSE ,
IN SEARCH OF ANCIENT WISDOM AND
KNOWLEDGE BEYOND THE REALM
OF OUR BEHAVIOR , AND UNLOCK THE
ESOTERIC VALUE OF BEING ,TO BETTER
UNDERSTAND OUR EXSISTANCE IN
THE UNIVERSE , AS WE KNOW IT.
ELEVATING THE CONSCIENCENESS
ABOVE THE EXCESSIVELY HIGH
REVERBERATING FREQUENCIES
OBSTRUCTING THE VIEW
OF UNDERSTANDING WAS DIFFICULT ,
NOT IMPOSSIBLE.
SEPARATING THE PHYSICAL , MENTAL
AND EMOTIONAL OSCILLATING
FREQUENCIES THAT CREATED A
BIOMAGNETIC BARRIER PROOVED
TO BE MUCH MORE DIFFICULT ,
REQUIRING INTENSE RELAXATION
AND MEDITATION TECHNIQUE ,
RESERVED FOR A SPECIAL OCASION .
THIS WOULD BE NO ORDINARY
COSMIC TRAVEL VACATION
EXPIERIENCE. THIS WAS A RESEARCH
PROJECT ECCEPTING RESPONSIBILITY
TO GO BEYOND EVEN ABNORMAL
RESEARCH PROTOCOL. THIS WOULD
BE THE EQUIVALENT OF ENTERING A
BLACK HOLE IN THE UNIVERSE
SURVIVING SPEGHETTIFICATION AND
EXITING A WHITE HOLE IN THE UNIVERSE AND RETURNING TO THE
EXACT POINT IN TIME OF DEPARTURE.
ALL IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE.
ESTIMATED TIME TRAVAL , 24.912 LIGHT YEARS.
THE MISSION , DECONSTRUCT AND
RECONSTRUCT HUMAN LIFE FORM
TO BETTER UNDERSTAND THE COSMIC
EFFECT ON THE ORIGIN OF BEING.
TO EXPIERIENCE THE ENTIRE COSMIC
NUCLEOSYNTHESIS OF MANKIND.
ACHIEVE ULTIMATE UNDERSTANDING ,
OF " THE PROFOUND THOUGHT OF
SPIRITUAL ENERGY. "
Michael E. Harris
06292026
amongst 1200 sculptures
in his expression of joy
I find myself
Otagi Nenbutsu-ji Temple is nestled atop a hill, surrounded by more than 1,000 striking stone sculptures. Remote and off-the-beaten tourist track, it feels like an oasis of calm, devoid of the masses of visitors that flock to Kyoto’s more central sites.
But things haven’t always been so serene. A typhoon decimated the original eighth-century temple in the 1950s, destroying parts of the structure. It was then decided that the temple would be rebuilt in a different, safer location.
Rather than abandon all hope for the ancient temple, one of its priests began rebuilding it piece by piece atop its new patch of land. He did more than just reconstruct the building. As he worked, also added Buddhist stone carvings to the property. He also taught the town people how to create the carvings, so their work is now mixed in with his own.
Now, 1,200 stone statues depicting Buddha’s disciples fill the space. They spill down the hillside and line the paths like peaceful, moss-covered guardians. Gazing into the serene stone faces is an almost meditative experience.
~Atlas Obscura, image and article
https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/otagi-nenbutsuji
Rivers of thoughts flow through my mind, like dreams lost in the endless ocean of memories,
Spreading night over my heart, searching for answers among falling stars,
Departed from a "home" I have called so my entire life, I travel through the vast realms of existence,
To create a home I have always yearned for, I must leave what I thought was "home."
The past follows me like a nocturnal shadow, its dark whispers luring me into the labyrinth of confusions,
But my searching steps lead me beyond the boundaries of family and habit,
Toward unknown lands, where each fallen leaf carries the promise of a new beginning.
My searches stretch into the horizon, where the twilight colors melt into the dawn.
To find the things that belong to me, I have to discover them, to lay them brick by brick,
From fragments of shattered dreams and fragile hopes, I reconstruct my identity,
Each step carries me towards another universe, another forgotten corner of the self,
Between the desire to be myself and the need to rebuild, a new spring is reborn with each sunrise.
Under the vast sky, full of lost constellations, my scattered fragments,
Recompose themselves, forming a map of my searches – a new home emerging upon the very sky,
For me, this home is a sanctuary of dreams, a refuge built from desires molded from the ashes of the past.
If I don't do it for myself, who will create this magical universe?
From each fall, I rise again like a Phoenix reborn from its own ashes,
My arms stretch towards the stars, assembling lost fragments of dreams,
With each note of melancholy and euphoria, I weave an eternal song of rediscovery and reconstruction,
In a dance of shadow and light, I shape myself, reconfiguring my being.
A home I have always longed for, a treasure lost in the labyrinth of destiny,
A home that calls my name in the stillness of the night, beckoning me to build it out of myself,
I embrace chaos, rivers of thoughts and dreams, for in them I find my source of creation,
And thus, in melancholic magic, I follow my path, transforming shadows into light,
In an eternally desired home, where the horizon of my heart travels towards infinity.
What seemed an unrealistic painting has disappeared;
a sunset too beautiful to linger has gone to sleep.
Sadness is felt internally, amazement externally.
Use your imagination to reconstruct that blood-smeared sky;
you may perceive it differently from mine.
In each new season, it changes from azure to gray.
Livius, a small island, was once owned by the menacing Cyclopes;
whose greedy attitude the Sirens fiercely hated.
Too sorry for them who couldn't sing a merry note.
My determination to discover overrides a fright many cringed at;
I look beyond and all voices have ceased.
Something inversely imagined can become a real threat.
The limpid sea with shades of light green and medium blue glitters,
It's the same one that the Greeks beheld.
They settled here and started another Hellenic civilization.
The pungent smell of the lemons and oranges sweeten the salty breeze;
they are a testimony of a people tending their fertile land.
I am the observant of a scenery that others envy.
It’s not a matter of perspective
It’s a law of Nature
It’s there in Alpha Centauri
But it’s also perspective
How the dust feels as it dies
That will set you free
But not free from the decay
Because decay is dust’s home
Yet, our mandate is resistance
To swiffer away entropy
Get through another revolution
With our core unscathed from dust
Though scores whittle us away
Tempting us to hasten demise
Telling us entropy is inevitable
Without wealth or possessions
To shield us from time’s vultures
Resistance is humanity’s right
The dust that crosses borders
The undocumented laborers
Making America great again and again
Flushed down the toilet
When the cleaning is done
When things appear falling apart
Put back the pieces without hope
Of the grapes of wrath juiced
But, it won’t be the same
It’ll fall apart again
That’s the law of entropy
Say you’ll reconstruct
Each drop placed lovingly
Or else it won’t hold from falling
We need just a couple to rebuild again
Give it atmosphere as Earth does
And entropy will choke every hope
Give it gravity like Jupiter
And we’ll know seriousness
Lives are on the line
Waiting for us to fall apart
So they can say
I told you so
Or you'll never hold
Tell them I’m not so
Or a ewe to be held
I don’t fall apart
I am as you are
Not falling apart
But falling within
Back to you
Always whole
In the One
That never
Falls apart
Ignorance is a lie;
A construct of entitlement.
Separation is a lie;
A construct of inflated ego.
Hatred is a lie;
A construct of self-directed loathing.
Powerlessness is a lie;
A construct of apathy.
Racism is a lie;
a construct of ignorance.
Entitlement is a lie
A construct of degradation.
Death is a lie;
A construct of embedded fear.
Poverty is a lie;
A construct of perverted power.
Dominance is a lie;
A construct of perversion.
Construct: A complex image or idea formed
of a number of simpler images or ideas.
Reconstruct: rebuild from the ground up.
Thoughts are things, and words have power to transform;
A construct of enlightenment.
Chula Fleming© 11/16/2017
Cornish pumps
were topic
they stayed on topic till
completion
the eyes of the world are
on me to perform
one spoke
it inspires me to be more
eager to sugceed
we have frustrated our needs
to the enviroment
those times are these times
and mans need to be
see's fit for us to
to look at those antiques not as
relics or obstacles
but as guides to
reconstruct now
that we must be
in these times
our time
we must succeed and
be coraters of the next
eternal beganning
frustration and doubt
must not enter
into these talks
as they are now
a means to completion
our construction
shall be teacher
to our new tommorrow
these are the beganning of
that tommorrow
with the works of yesteryear
as our guide
6.30901964x 10-5 M5?s
Within my healing, broken heart shatters yet again through unrequited love.
Within my healing, wounded soul injures yet again through bitter- sweet yearn.
Within my healing, endured storm afflicts yet again through absurd swirling conjectures.
Within my healing, violent waters trawls me deeper yet again through unfulfilled desires.
Undeterred by life's brutality, my conviction utters “ I will not drown since my lifeguard walks on water”.
My wounded soul will be restored again through holy love.
My broken heart will reconstruct again through self-love.
I will withstand any storm again through unbreakable persistence.
Dream is a thing flowing thoughts meander to make,
but a thing made is also destined to break.
If rupturing of dream is like splitting
the silence of the dark dungeon of mind,
the vibration of destruction would create
seismic waves of turmoil in the suppressed soul
that demolish the premise of promise,
the present makes to the future,
destructs the illusory tapestry of trance,
as fleeting dreams are woven transiently within dreams.
I deprive the dream breaker of the power,
shatter the sheath of tremor distress makes,
the slices of splintered psyche swirling in despair
collect in the sanctum of soul profoundly mine,
and compose the secret song of sorrow,
the rolling tear drops carry serenading
to the unclosed eyes, so these could see
how dreams break like the swaying waves
on the shore of stark reality where I stand as an object,
rolling in tides of time.
I then become a mute collection
of words made of eternity sands composing no lyric,
nor creating the ballad of Greek tragedy,
for I then lie under the debris of dreams
with life’s fostered reverie that shelters in unreality
the flockless bird I become with broken wings,
in the tempest of time when the sky falls.
The broken dreams don’t return in entirety,
for I can’t reconstruct their wings to fly
in the recreated awareness sky of my mangled mind,
but time restructures my dormant desire,
raise me from the ruins of the past,
and blow for me the winds of hope,
so, I drift to the domain of dream once again,
to find divinity configured within consciousness dreams.