Long Reignited Poems
Long Reignited Poems. Below are the most popular long Reignited by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reignited poems by poem length and keyword.
I.
Eros walked slowly through the forestland,
Near Mount Olympus, in the soft twilight.
By his side, he held his bow in his hand,
As he walked on through the advancing night.
Above the forest, the evening was clear,
As a full moon lit up the mountain’s peak,
An endless number of stars filled the skies.
Through the trees, he saw a wandering deer,
That appeared to be searching for a creek—
He quickly followed its path with his eyes.
II.
Reaching back into his quiver with care,
Eros placed an arrow within his bow.
He quietly raised the bow in the air,
Then he slowly crouched his body down low.
He watched the deer at the creek quench its thirst,
As he swiftly trailed it through the thick brush—
Suddenly, there came a beautiful sound.
The music startled both of them at first,
Then Eros and the deer left in a rush—
The arrow fell from his bow to the ground.
III.
As they both followed the sound of the lyre,
They then found themselves now coming nearer
To a woman on a rock near a fire—
Her sound and her beauty became clearer.
The deer slowed down from the pace which it ran,
And shook the loose leaves away from its fur—
Erato had brought an end to the hunt.
Her playing always charmed both beast and man—
The deer calmly listened from behind her,
And Eros stood enamored from the front.
IV.
They listened together, as she played on,
Wearing myrtle and roses in her crown.
Further into her presence, they were drawn—
Surrendering, Eros placed his bow down.
In the moonlight, Erato’s tunic flowed,
Appearing light blue within the green trees,
And her golden lyre began to glisten.
The fading embers of her campfire glowed,
And remained burning in the gentle breeze—
Eros stood and continued to listen.
V.
Overhead, the moon hid behind a cloud,
The fire was soon extinguished in the dark.
Her playing became increasingly loud,
And the fire reignited with a spark.
The playing then soon silenced in the night—
Her precious lyre upon the rock she placed,
And handed Eros a golden arrow.
He then watched the deer leave in the firelight—
Being thankful, for their presence it graced,
And for the sounds from the clearings narrow.
© 2023
REINCARNATION THINKING?
Life is like a coloring book
with few or many pages
filled with complex
outlined images.
We are given a box of crayons
and are asked to color in the
background and spaces of the images
Sub-titles are allowed.
When the coloring book is finished
we are given a new one to complete.
C.A.K. 12-6-2012
REINCARNATION THINKING 2 -SOUL SEARCHING
Was I once before or never
Don’t know how or even whether
I was a firefly, a bird of prey
a centipede, a fish fillet?
A baseball fan to keep the score
a mockingbird, a carnivore?
A blossom in the midst of spring
a sign of what the day might bring.
A germ grown in a Petri dish
a chicken bone an unmade wish
All things and species could I be,
even remnants of a tree.
Of all of these, I leave this post,
I am for now what I am most.
CAK 7-23-2012
MORE QUESTIONS ON RE-INCARNATION
As 'core' beliefs thicken so,
does it leave us room to grow?
As aging souls say we must,
complete the cycle which was thrust
upon our bucolic living place
turned upside down in whorling space
searching for a redemptive life.
But for you, dearest one, do you not remember
before you arrived, you took this bucking horse of soul,
tamed it, labeled it and proclaimed it.
To become what you needed in order
that your ride be contained and controlled.
It's name is 'balance' and it keeps you level in the saddle
so you don't fall off.
10-3-2012
REINCARNATION THINKING 3 -
If, we are on a soul journey,
then what must that soul become?
A better soul? A wiser soul?
A sad soul? A learned soul?
Until one reaches the end of time,
There are so many lives to live out
to fully experience all aspects of this world.
Animals, plants - more souls searching?
One can speculate, but from my perspective
none of it makes sense.
CAK 4-03-2012
REINCARNATION ENDING
Was the Phoenix reincarnated?
Or was its embers reignited?
Perhaps before a lowly worm or soldier bee
or brown turned leaf upon a tree?
A seahorse, a shark, which fish shall I be?
In fisherman's net to be eaten by me?
And when the cycle is complete
and x equals x on our balance sheet.
Can we then rest in a celestial lair
with memories gone and unaware
of trials by all things forgotten?
If choose I must or chosen by me,
I'll remain in the stars and just wait to see.
6-2-2012
You can call it love
That I know for sure
But, I think it is something else
Something so much more
It's a feeling like no other
You know it when it hits
It's when two things go together
When it's perfect, when it fits
You know the special feeling
It makes you feel quite whole
It's like you've been down to the crossroads
You made a deal and sold your soul
It may just come by once in life
I got lucky, it came twice
The first time, on a frozen pond
When my blades cut up the ice
It was peaceful, perfect, flowing
The ice and I were one
I'd be out there from sun up
Until the day was done
I remember people cheering
Those cheers forever will I hold
This was what I wanted
The feeling was pure gold
Time went by like normal
I had the feeling, but not quite
I found love, but, it was different
Even though it felt so right
Like I said, it's different
Because it doesn't love you too
It's not like loving someone
I can't explain it quite, can you?
Like I said, for some folks
It may come by them twice
I'm am blessed it happened
This time off the ice
You know when in a movie
The sunbeam comes down from the sky
And lights up something special
You know the scene, don't lie
The hockey was my vision
But there was something missing still
I loved the feel of freedom
But, there was something missing still
It Michigan it hit me
It caught me by surprise
I was looking at guitars one day
It hit me hard between the eyes
Worse than any check I'd felt
Worse than popping out a knee
A old Washburn guitar
Was hanging, taunting me
Of all the things upon the wall
All the guitars holding court
This Washburn said you want me
More than playing at your sport
I took it down and held it
Like the first woman that I'd had
It's curves gave me that feeling
It made me feel quite glad
This guitar's full of music
Full of songs to still be sung
Stories of others and my lifetime
Maybe this poem will be one
Most people get the feeling
In their lifetime once or twice
I got mine later with the Washburn
I still get it on the ice.
I wrote this for a friend who tried to describe to me about playing pro hockey, and how his love of playing guitar has been reignited.
#hockey #music #guitar #washburn #ice #feeling #love
One lone rose tumbled from the basket,
the same as the others but set apart
All were beautiful. They congregated
in one basket, these Southern belles,
but she, with her pink cheeks, tumbled,
she’d cut her ties. She loved them, indeed,
but not exclusively. No one was there
to hold her by the hand. She knew
and cared about the world out there.
all the southern belles
beautiful, adorned in pink ~
one lone rose cut ties
She’d end up in a beautiful bouquet,
dusted off, picked up from the floor.
She was the bride’s favorite - was she
something new or something old?
She wasn’t sure - it didn’t matter,
she was used for a moment in time,
carried as the piano played, as
the crowd stood to admire the bride.
how the bouquet served,
open to severed flower ~
the pride of the bunch
Puffed-up in the part she played.
The lovely pink dustable would be saved,
dried, sprayed. She was loved, as surely
as if she was the velveteen rabbit, boxed
up - almost nearly ever gawked at. Her
favorite time was when a little girl, who
looked so much like the bride of years-
gone-by, opened the box and picked her up.
surprise opening
admired, crushed, and scattered rose
a little girl laughs
She was admired and crushed and
a puckered up lady scooped her up
and kissed her over and over again
telling her of her favorite flower - a foundling
she admired even with its scattered petals.
kisses are gathered
strewn on the cheeky lassie ~
she’s a gift of life
She gave one petal to the mischievous girl -
“God bless you! May this grow into
a pretty bouquet, special and unique.
I’ve been so blessed, dear one.
May your life be so blessed too.”
understanding not
but love was never forgot
for girl’s heart was full
Then the worn out rose saw the old
bride kiss her granddaughter, again,
as they laughed and the girl’s cheeks
turned an eternal pink, taking on the hue
of reignited petals. She would stand apart
from the rest, though she loved them all
would serve the world. Her name was Rose.
her namesake of old
ruffled, lacy, magi’s gift
a blessing from God
9/1/2022
As the final glimpse
of the sun leads into
an everlasting spectacle
of twinkling dreams,
peeking through
turmeric traces
of an amber aftermath,
I listen to the
nesting nightingales
croon nostalgic lullabies,
and search for a
celestial ray
that would illustrate,
the beginning
of
butterflies
within
my glass heart.
When twilight is
just a
mere mirage
in the distance of
my destitute mind,
and tune
of your
laughter
reverberates
in rhapsodic refrain;
a raspy rhythm
ringing
through
rustic breeze,
whilst the
whistling
wind waves
to the
dandelions
dancing
to your
delicate drumbeats,
scintillating stars
fall upon
our silhouettes,
scattering pieces of
who I once
used to be-
within pulsating
flesh and bones,
before I felt the
warmth of your
cosmic whispers.
Now initials of
your amethyst
song is the
penultimate prefix
to my path
of
healing,
where
sentimental sighs
between us,
unveil
wordless
smiles electrifying
a classical crescendo;
awaiting beneath
instrumental wings.
I count the
flickering jewels,
splattered across
nocturnal
night-skies,
questioning if this
is
another
start
of a
weary winter?
or is this just
a seasonal distraction,
intoxicating my
procrastinating pen,
or is your voice a
heaven-sent elixir,
to soothe the satanic
seas evaporating
black salt-
drizzling toxic rain,
upon my
porcelain choir,
synchronizing
a symphony
of soulmates destined
to
reunite and rewrite
a
roseate rendezvous.
Maybe,
fate reignited
to align
the emerald
glow between
you and I,
Maybe, I’ve long
been a wanderer,
on a quest to reach
the rainbow
swirls
above your
musky garden,
where background
music is
the poetry woven
from your
cryptic ink.
You’ll always remain
the
last maestro
in my carnival
of chaos,
amidst the loudness
of screeching demons
chattering within every
darkest sheet of
dreary December.
Sometimes you can love with all you have.
Yet it is never enough to capture a heart.
Sometimes the love fades away over the years.
Hearts are broken without words even spoken.
How can it be that what you have is not enough?
When all you ever want to do is love and adore
What goes wrong when emotions so deep, so strong,
Can’t find expressions to reach the other heart
Yesterday's beautiful memories slowly fade away,
as the love in your eyes gradually dies.
What happened to the promises? Why has the love died?
I begin to dread the day you finally say goodbye.
Goodbye will never touch my lips while they yet draw breath
My heart still beats there, there in your hands, it feels, it bleeds
Though voiceless are the words it thunders, yet its memories speak
Louder than the doubts in your mind; will you listen, will you hear?
I hardly recognize this person lying next to me.
Is it that someone else has your heart, so you shun me.
What do I need to do to make you love me?
Or is this the end? Is my love not enough?
If you wander away, unable to stay, tired of delay...
Know this: my love is feeling and commitment entwined
My love is constancy and ecstasy reignited, redefined
My love is all you'll ever need, when tired, when you bleed
Do you recall the vows you made, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish.
Till death do us part, means you love me until death, not wish it sooner.
Life is a balance of holding on and letting go, so make up your mind.
My heart will bleed, but how can I live with a love that is not true.
Still the doubts that shout; still everything else but this....
Lay your head on my chest, and hear the thunder that prevails
This voiceless beating of words that courses through my veins
While this testament of life remains, my love for you will live.
Oh beloved sweetheart of mine, rest assured, I will fight for our love.
I will reignite that fire in your soul and awaken the ghost of passion.
I will become the object of your affection, the one you carnally desire.
You are my destiny and I, your fate, we merge as one, together and forever.
Silent One and Eileen Manassian collaboration
25 August 2015
Their eyes widened, and the group leaned in with curiosity. “What’s in it for us?” one of them asked, lowering his phone and adopting a tone that suggested a wild adventure was imminent, perhaps even Trans storytime or "Elementary School Teachers Gone Wild", in class. Maybe even genital mutilation and Jones Kool Aid + visual aids, plus umm, aids, and monkey pox and band aids. OK Gus was getting ahead of himself.
“Help us distract Michael! Promise you’ll get the real story behind the Easter Bunny,” Penney pitched.
The teenagers exchanged glances, and with a shared nod, they sprang into action. One of them grabbed an absurdly large basket of fake Easter eggs from a nearby store display while another started a group chant: “Bunny! Bunny! Bunny!” The noise attracted attention, echoing through the mall like a siren call.
“Where’s the playboy bunny?!” a kid shouted, turning the heads of middle afed Men. “We need her for a photo op!”
The Bunny, momentarily flustered, turned to the group, delighting in this unexpected attention. The teenagers began prancing around him, flinging eggs into the air as Michael, caught in a haze of confusion and rage, stumbled toward them. I am the playboy bunny, just Baroke wokey Bear !
“Why is everyone so obsessed with real women?!” he roared, shaking his fist in frustration, but momentarily losing his focus on Penney and Gus.
“Now’s our chance!” Penney hissed, taking Gus's elbow as they sprinted toward the Escape Rooms, leaving the staged chaos behind. With the door to Room One in sight, their hearts raced with momentum and fear.
Inside the rooms, walls transformed with dazzling illusions and outrageous puzzles awaited—a place where fantasy ruled and magic reignited the thrill of adventure. As they bolted through the door and barely managed to slam it shut, laughter erupted from behind them.
“Isn’t this just a tad absurd?” Gus panted, hands on his knees.
“Absolutely! But if it distracts Michael long enough for us to figure out our next move, then let's embrace the madness!” Penney winked, trying to catch her breath amidst the resurgence of adrenaline.
Skeleton quay - abridged for Give Me Goosebumps contest
When the sniper fired his rifle and his faithful canine fell
A second bullet found his heart and he went down as well
Might we stay together, somehow he deigned to try
His last exhale the whispered vow, Lord, we must not die
Army medics took him, in vain, his life to save
His hero German Shepherd in a stoney desert grave
And then his own cremation, yet he remained aware
Ethereal intervention withdrew his corpse from there
Something in his mind just knew his dog was somewhere yearning
Shame the intervention came when he was near done burning
Two thousand miles of skimming clouds or bounding over sea
This canine’s epic trek has brought him to his hometown quay
He only gets to hear him when a crescent moon shines bright
Perhaps they do as ghost ships do just pass by in the night
Each one knows the other’s close, they’ll reunite in time
He’s of a mind to bide his time fighting low-life crime
He prowls the night in shadows twixt the bat the rat and cat
Keeps his hairless cranium hid beneath his tan rimmed hat
And lest he scares the homeless like he's been born out of hell
Behind dark shades his vacant sockets hide away as well
Whilst he has no need for food - he hasn't any guts
He passes time by nibbling packs of jelly beans or nuts
They bounce around his ribcage then trail along the ground
To feed Cedric his rat sidekick who follows him around
It takes a while but then a smile at four wet footprint marks
No phantom howl, a joyous wail and then some playful barks
Man and dog now reunited, distant bond now reignited
Cedric tried it, couldn’t fight it, three good friends now all delighted
And so they prowl the shadows where no lawful man shall dare
Only those of I'll intent shall stand or loiter there
But nothing here shall cause them fear nor get under their skin
A knife glints in the moonlight and they cannot help... but grin.
18 December 2018
For: Give Me Goosebumps
Sponsor : Nina Parmenter
Somewhere in the dungeon of my soul
was a memory I supressed,
and a song, a scent
reignited the place and time long forgot.
And I remember leaving the cocoon we called home
I remember moving to city estate
A communist Block of dingey brick hopelessness
Four stories of balconied flats
Assaulting the horizon with their oppressive ugliness.
I remember unwrapping cotton striped sheets
Claiming a new bed and a corner
In one of four bedrooms
Floors concrete with grey linoleum
the coldness hurt my feet
I remember the pink woolen blankets and the hard grey blankets from council.
Upon opening an obtuse door,
a boxy toilet with an exterior exhaust spinning,
and chain hanging down behind the toilet bowl
The room was always unspeakably cold,
always had to strain to use it.
A kitchen with two windows onto balcony
And a meter for adding coins to buy gas, for bath and cooking
I remember the bathroom separate from toilet
a rectangle room with a bath tub and face basin.
With a noisey point of use gas furnace for hot water. From any part of the miserable flat you can hear the flames heating up water,
And also always unspeakably cold.
I remember the massive parifin heaters that burned all through the night, the soot and the glare
Only the living room had central heating, a one buyer gas grate that heated the living room
I shed many tears on the concrete balcony staring at countless hapless pensioners and dolers alike
Faces stamped on hard with one expresion, hopeless resolve.
Our flat was on the third floor
Past ground, one was fine, two thighs burning,
three, always the stench of stale piss in puddles
Not on the wall like men do,
No these depositors stooped to render their rank fluids on the middle bank of the flight of steps,
a little privacy there.
I would never call this place home
Like a prison I would merely bide my time and fly away.
05/13/14
What I Gave
Why sleep when
dreams of her only
cause me to spiral
deeper?
What once woke me up
smiling now jolts my
body awake in cold
sweats.
No more are the
nights where my mind
drifts away into the
peaceful happiness
of her arms before
easing into sleep.
Now I lay waiting.
Waiting for my mind
to relinquish its
control over my body
in a fit of
exhaustion, praying
for the comfort of a
dreamless sleep.
But no such ease
comes. And behind my
eyelids I see her
shining red hair
flick across her
face exposing her
bright blue
beautiful eyes. My
soul yearns for even
another second of
those eyes as
reality sets in and
they quickly fade
with the growing
roar of my alarm.
I reach out, begging
her to stay, but
those blue eyes only
smile and turn away.
Gone until night
falls and my mind
weakens, letting her
in once again.
Consciousness slips
in once more as my
eyes flick open,
desperately
searching for her.
My body stammers up
in full alert,
somehow believing
that in that instant
that she was there.
My head falls back
onto my pillow, and
I stare at the
ceiling, wishing
today could be
easier. That her
memory could take a
moment of relief
from subjecting me
to hours of torment.
Also to no avail. In
every detail I find
a connection to her,
reiterating the
total loneliness and
emptiness that is
all that remains
inside of me.
But I know that love
remains. Somewhere
beneath the heaping
pile of solitude and
pain, a spark still
burns, begging to be
reignited.
It never will be
though.
What I gave was
everything.
Everything that I
can’t get back, and
everything that I
shouldn’t want.
Despite her
happiness and mine,
the love became a
poison to her and
her beliefs. And
nothing is worth
bringing so much
pain to the love of
your life.