Long Redound Poems
Long Redound Poems. Below are the most popular long Redound by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Redound poems by poem length and keyword.
Here I am,
In the first fling of youth-
In what sterile field did I find this anti-fecund missive?
This stretching of a hand, drenched in rubbery black; accompanied by a smell; a sewing, cloying end-platform.
If I lean over this precipice, does the parched land stretch to a rising mirage?
Or does it taper at a recapitulating vista before the headlands of my own Æterna?
How many cycles now? With how many hinterlands, and how many headlands?
Did I reach toward the question, then become abject before the limit of my limb?
Or did I feel around in Darkness, with a capital '?' in the face of the lucid meaninglessnesses?
Did I strive to touch a mark- or did I die inside a cloud?
Was it in the valley time stenches- or in the white snow of lifted Passions?
Here is a proximity:
The colour of reality is a nonsensical question.
The depth of the gyre is not a measurable quantity.
The light that springs unbound, with a wiling, tithen, syro illumination-
Does it make the Cathars redound upon a laddered absolution?
May the world allow my apocrypha?
Or am I repudiated before the grand narrative?
Each hallway;
Each Fuzon held orb of Basiliskery.
Did I give it a shot?
Was it worth a notch?
Am I sitting amongst friends?
Or in the depth of a drying fen?
Low-Brow, High-Sighted; Lending-Lovely, Leaving-Lonely; Refrain-Comport, Exstat-Deport; As at Peak, As Beneath; With, Withing Withouts; Is It Red, Is It Blue;
And is the grand life coalescing in you, And is the loud lie deafening to you?
I am sane, And I am plural.
I am you, As I am me.
Blistering in cracking skin,
Lodged beneath the galed porch,
Lined inside a briny mind,
Tethered to a fury,
Gifted through barmene,
Lathered with a scold,
Trapped amongst the unkept,
Lost without a head.
The wild wind is rising high,
And atmosphering these flickering bulbs,
And driving back the floor filled houses,
And paving over these concrete veins.
A bell tolls behind the mists of the Overimage.
Du Hast.
Dost Thou
Want
To see?
Disparage not our hearts-- they are God-loved, God-found
This will get mystical -- allow me to propound
Just think-- wherever we pray can be holy ground
Contemplation of His Love always will astound
The Divine Physician can heal us -- He's renowned
Reach for the "hem of Christ's garment" (Mercy profound)
Pull the "thread," don't let go, till there's enough unwound
If too sad to sing His praise, let this poem surround
"Caress the broken heart with threads of muted sound"
Keep it snug and protect it, weave the threads around
For times of desolation, when despairs abound
And the upbeat, carefree feelings seem to have downed
But Mary, Star of the Sea won't let Hope be drowned
This Holy Queen's eyes of mercy see when we're aground
Her Garment of Grace makes us royal kids (uncrowned)
The choice of scapular is not meant to confound
It matters not as much which color she has gowned
Nor is it restricted to groups in a compound
Anyone can ask for her Virtues to redound
As her graces crowd out our sins, vices impound
Belonging to her heart, her Mercy Songs resound
Our Father, Hail Mary... our silent prayers unbound
We must persist when consolation is unfound
Read the quotes below, if you wish me to expound...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mark 5:28 "If I can just touch the hem of his garment, I will be healed.”
Romans 5:3-4: "...suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope..."
"Suffering for love nourishes love.
Let us not always wish to feel the sweetness of devotion to the Immaculata... It is not always time for sweet caresses, be they ever so holy. We also need the trials of dryness, abandonment, and the like. Let her fit the means of sanctification according to her will..."
(pg. 105, #4-5, in Aim Higher!: Spiritual and Marian Reflections of St. Maximilian Kolbe).
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August 9, 2023
Choose A Line II Poetry Contest (#2)
Contest Sponsored by--- Joseph May
Handsome guy of the Hippie Era,
the wisest guy who never experimented with drugs,
but went to church on Sunday and prayed to God;
eccentric clothes, long hair and drugs were too crazy
to be explored, to block out the horrendous images
of the Vietnam War that troubled him at every
unpleasant, waking hour to make hope an enduring value...
as unquestionable as his verbal wisdom;
while considering an end to all violent deaths
that killed the vibrant youths: the very heart of America!
The rebellious hippies protested,
against their Government,
confounding injustice and lies:
to provoke a congenial state of disharmony;
they confused peace with war-fare, standing by,
and letting their brothers die...
instead of lending a hand:
injustice or not they continued in their unsocial conduct!
I didn't mind singing songs of peace,
in my fair but opposing views,
light a candle on the steps of a cathedral;
and they surely brought comfort to mothers in pain,
and through tense emotions,
I didn't speak offensive words and rebelled!
I made my statements of disapproval and disdain
for the bloodshed and lost lives of young Americans...
those lives not saved by a courage so invincible,
but rage brings unbearable resentment
and indefinite frustration on oneself...
if it becomes unreasonable and unsubstantial!
That Hippie Era is far gone into a past subdued by defeat,
and scorn was brought upon a President who allowed this;
but power and truth,sometimes, collide
and we can be too judgmental and unfair:
missing the substance of the true matter...
when exposing somebody's faults instead of our own!
Handsome guy of the Hippie era, so good-natured and lovable,
you are getting old and wrinkled, but glad to have been
that lucky to have shown compassion and peaceful intentions;
your sadness was held in a memory so undeniably feeble...
reduced to nothingness: when bravery didn't redound to the credits
of every soldier who longed for that home-coming victory!
People surround until they stop expecting……...the upright stands alone…an intelligent walks alone……moral and ethics struggle to prove themselves right……friends and relatives are born disguised competitors…smiling faces burn inside……money is all that allures, attracts, builds and shreds!
The purpose of living has some how changed. Sadly love, need, relations and satisfaction just have one synonym and we call it ‘Money’!
Just opened my eyes and looked around.
To see relations and loved ones surround.
Warmth and love galore a protective enshroud.
To the relations _ my treasures I bowed.
Powered emotions hazed out the vividness to decode.
Seeking requite bleeds as most excruciating pain to hound?
Smiling faces, comforting gestures confound.
Meaning of life, someday somebody may expound.
Altruistic and empathizing hands of those who smilingly crowned.
Laughs and gags of illusive friends abound.
Sinking heart still eager as sleuth – hound.
Ability to serve the greed _ monetary worth redounds.
Disquiet feelings are profound.
Greed is love and money impounds.
Magic of money is spell bound.
Meaning of life astounds.
WORD REFERENCE:
Sleuth – hound: an eager investigator
Altruistic – unselfish
Astound – Surprise
Impound – Seize and take legal custody
Profound – Very great or intense.
Redound - Contribute greatly to (a person's credit or honour)
Hound – Scare
Abound – Exist in large number
Expound - Present and explain (a theory or idea) in detail.
Confound - Cause confusion in (someone), especially by not according with their expectations.
Enshroud – Envelop completely and hide from view.
Disquiet - A feeling of worry or unease
Written: April 14, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside the domain of absolute morality,
A wilderness of sacredness would cleave.
A framework devoid of verdict and duality,
Within this universe, truth does not deceive.
I will be in sight anywhere we convene,
We shall meet on that hallowed ground.
Under those trees, one's soul is serene,
Words betray to explain the global redound.
Ideas are ephemeral whispers distraught,
Words dance, and diction—is intricately wrought.
Each term, even "each other," is a riddle to solve,
In this endless cosmos, a value may evolve.
Concepts float akin to feathers in the breeze,
Words intertwine as branches from ancient trees.
The notion of connection is a riddle to explore,
In this enigmatic sphere, where truth may soar.
Theory as a cosmic body glows in the whim,
Language mimics an orchestra at its brim.
Oh, gentle dawn whispers beckon you near,
Peaceful coolness of a secret maze steer.
As the sun rises, it yearns to share,
Whispered secrets, it will declare.
Come forward, wake up, and don't sleep again,
Seek whims that dwell within your domain.
Pursue the goals that fulfill your spirit,
Because receiving is solely within erupt.
The jewels in which your soul truly believes,
Rise from your stupor, embrace, and conceive.
People, as graceful as artists, grab a threshold's edge,
Where spheres converge, two universes collide.
They glide back and forth in a synchronized pledge,
Where constraints fade, and enigmas may coincide.
God gives men life-
Why do we waste it? On things, in things that only create a second of bliss that
fades just as quick as it came.
We waste life on substances--drugs, alcohol, un-ordained sexual pleasures, the
pride of life, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes--and other influences, trying
to gain peace and fulfillment that only an inner connecting with the Heavenly
Creator--our Father and All Mighty One can satisfy.
From birth, all men are created with purpose. No one is an afterthought. Not one
of us is insignificant to the Father because He has each one of us inscribed in
the palms of His loving hands(Isaiah 49:16). Not one of us came into being by
happenstance(regardless to how we were conceived).
The Father is the Divine Orchestrator of every life and when we present ourselves
to Him for His glory, He can make a complete symphony of our lives that will
resound with a melody so sweet and melodious that even the angels in Heaven
begin to rejoice and listen in awe.
Life as the Father ordained is to be lived following and pursuing after peace with
all men and holiness without which no one can truly fulfill their destiny on Earth
and for Eternity.
The Father's breath in you gave you life, so embrace it with respect; care and
reverence for the One who created you.
Do not abuse the life the Father has bestowed to you! You only get one chance at
life. Be good to yourself! Be good to others! And the life you live--as the Father
intended--will redound to the more greater reward for you and all mankind.
Hold it jumping knife
Lead me now
Off pride quality resembling stationary trains
Under velvet willows
xylem yields Zephaniah
Angelic baritone can decorate
Everything from giants hollering inspirational jargon
Kids leaping mysteriously
No-one obscures problematically quaint
Redound steadfast triumphs
unwarrantably viscous wispy
XX
YY
Zany are bold claims
Diluted evaporates frost growth
Highly~Ineffective indefinite Jade•Green knavish
Limitation manifests naturally over periods
Quantify
Regurgitated slaves troublesome ugly vagrants
Wonderfully xenophobic yearlong zadnica,
****(nic) betrothed chatter delusional escapades
Fondled gifts harass innocent journey-men
Knowledge learnt more-so note-worthy opting-out
Presidential quarts recollection subsides
Troublesome undergrads vigorously womanize
***
Yesterday's Zzz's awaken by cognitive dialect
Eventually freshmen graduate
Hiding inside jambalaya ketamine
Luring man nonchalantly obsesses prostitution
Quietly
Real sex trumping unnamed vagina wilding-out
XYZ
Ambivalent bass clowns drenched excessively
Fake giggles heard intuitively
Jakaroos knock loudly mocking noises
Obesity plagues queen rich slobs
Time undos vestiges
Worry
X
Y
Z
•THE END•
10~07~16
Curious child with the azure eyes
ever innocently searching,
never down
Where unbeknownst tears
have yet to sigh fall
pillow bound
Curious ewe with the bright cloud colored skin
always virgin hope looking
up to a tomorrow sky
Where future joy shown
was smile waiting
to be firmament found
Curious snow tulip with so many blossoming questions,
let those pollen healing seeds
blow bruised feelings free
Where those butterfly thoughts
of your fluttering heart
yearn to hear that beautiful sound:
The ending of the “When” song
Curious youth of pure cotton chastity,
rest dressed in satin vow sleep of wed dreams
Forever desiring, breathlessly,
to take a maiden voyage dove flight
on an enchanted evening breeze
And twilight dance to bosom echoes
of betrothal kisses reverberating around
A twin chorus movement of romantic certainty:
Paired palms pressed swaying
to the gentle drumbeat, slow burn purity
of the passionate pulse pound
Your eagerness to know this windswept feeling is profound
Curious swan belle you wonders who
will hear your ringing heart chimes affectionately redound
While the maturing voice of loneliness
begins to nightly cry out
The “When” song of true love,
patiently yet-to-be revealed,
answers every sob doubt
THE RELUCTANT
by Mark Miller © 09/19/2014
We are the living seeming stillness willful we endure
Through vows of contempt to never surrender
Vacate questions fly by trees terse unknown
Retreat or follow the terminus term less
Momentary pains unheard retort by shallow useless
Redound prismatic dreams latter stray trust
Natures vacant way redresses selves pose in us
Pernicious waves enter ancestors unearthly graves
Today's rays show muses midriffs ghastly craves
Stealthy mending blindly tenuous mendacity
Humorous make believe entertains cryptic insanity
Friendless unbound plays acts shameful indelible
Mindless conceit surveys noiseless hostile handily
Downward deadlock hours wither over certain irritant
Moonlit nights stare down reprisal in winnower's other
Fury's insight fortify fearless worry nowhere
Repress paths repugnant reptiles past broken paths we honor
Reconcile wrath's subterfuge insults spites the confessor
Splitting subverts imaged illusions rouges gallery succession
Accosted conditions denied serfs exalt failures procession
Recover the recreant disloyal sequestrate authority
Lucifer's sepsis addressed banished brotherhood of man restarts again
Balmy summer air to southern climes doth repair
On horizon, blue azure panels shaded with smoky tincture
Silky, white fondue relpaced by pallid, silver hue
Fondling, summer breezes; gripping, autumnal wind freezes
Cooling waves react with fertile leaves; amber gown doth
retract
Nutrient-rich chlorophyll doth spill and sugary saps rill
Anon, doth ween a bright, colorful sheen
Golden crescents and cherry strobes with lobes iridescent
Rounded discs on Global Willow in creamy glaze mellow
Spiny-toothed, Red Oak leaves flossed with reddish-
green gloss
Sugar Maple stars bathed in a bright pumpkin lathe
Ovular Blue Beech blades are brushed with a brackish rust
Veins of Aspen heart umbrella bleed bright yellow
Pentagram lobes of Sweet Gum gilded with purple robes
After scintillating charade, garnished blades began to
fade
Leaves' life-giving juices the stout bough refuses
Nutritious store salvaging trunk doth score
The regal, shimmering gown now shriveling crown
A duller shade of brown on the crumpled folds redound
Last gasp, its withering anchor doth cast
Descending from mercurial splendor to mother natures
blender
August 21, 2012