Long Relinquishes Poems
Long Relinquishes Poems. Below are the most popular long Relinquishes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Relinquishes poems by poem length and keyword.
—An Inscription Concerning the Sovereign Evolution of Peace—
“Peace was once as ubiquitous as breath upon the earth—
until mankind, seduced by its own inquietude,
began to suspect that existence itself insufficient.”
Peace once moved through the world
as naturally as breath—
so native to existence
that no mind troubled to defend it.
Rivers descended from mountains,
fields kept covenant with hunger,
and the wind crossed nations
without consulting a single border.
Yet within the architecture of the human spirit
there stirred a darker persuasion:
that existence itself
insufficient.
From that whisper—
more—
rose the citadels of ambition
and the engines of dominion.
More territory than earth could yield.
More triumph than conscience could sustain.
More possession than the soul could endure.
Thus the subtle famine of the inward life
erupted outward
as the tumult of nations.
And I—
who spoke of mankind as though from a height—
felt the same small tyranny
stirring within my own breast.
For even in stillness
the human heart yet whispers:
more.
Yet the universe keeps another law.
The star enlarges by fidelity to its flame.
The oak ascends by patience of root and season.
Rivers shape continents
not through violence
but through centuries of persistence.
Nothing in creation
matures by annihilation.
Only man—
that prodigy of consciousness—
imagined that greatness
required erasure.
Thus progress resembled fire:
magnificent in devastation,
brief in wisdom.
But the cosmos waits
for mankind to rediscover
the austere magnificence of sufficiency.
For a civilization
that cannot accept sufficiency
will finally exhaust itself
in the violence of its own hunger.
When the subtle famine of the inward life
relinquishes dominion
within the human heart,
peace returns—
not as the spoil of victory
nor the fragile ordinance of treaties,
but as the native atmosphere
of a humanity
at last reconciled
with the proportion
of its own existence.
For the destiny of man
not extinction
in the violence of his powers,
but the austere and sovereign evolution
of conscience.
In a late night, when stars are born in the mirror of the lake,
And the moon dances on the waters, silent and melancholic,
My thoughts unravel and reassemble,
In an unceasing flow of consciousness, like an endless river.
Many speak of their sorrows and scars,
Of loves that did not want them, of unfulfilled desires.
But I, who have neither of these,
Sing something else, a song of the heart dissolving into silence.
With me, a nightingale sings where
Existence itself relinquishes its will.
You hear it, ponder, and turn somber,
And my pain grows too, like a shadow stretching out.
Ah, if poetry were more than ink carved on paper,
It would be a portal to places where grass is taller than trees,
Where the blue sky lulls you to sleep,
And slow clouds beckon you to slumber.
In an absolute abandonment, I let myself drift,
With an intimate detachment, like a leaf floating on the river,
Far from the banks, unable to bear burdens and sorrows,
I dissolve into my own tears, in the silence of the night.
There, where forest dryads hide
Beyond mere imagination,
Leaving behind only shadows and whispers,
I find solace in the profound silence.
Ah, if you would open a window, you would see:
Endless green fields, where dreams take root,
And the moon mirrors the stars from your soul,
Dissolving you into your own tears.
With a tenderness like that of a leaf in the river,
I float, bearing no burdens, feeling no pain,
In a late night, when stars are born in the mirror of the lake,
And the moon dances on the waters, silent and melancholic.
In a realm woven from wind's whispers, cloaked with fragile veils of deceit,
We live in the shadows of a reality built on a thin layer of lies and illusions,
A world where greed is elevated to the rank of deity, and wisdom is condemned as sin,
Division serves as the architect of our society, while unity is exiled to the realm of fantasy.
Here, the ego dances, a cunning puppeteer, praised for its clever thoughts,
While the intelligence of the heart lies buried beneath layers of neglect,
We have strayed into the labyrinth of our own making, where shadows grow tall,
And the light of understanding and compassion struggles to pierce the darkness.
Wandering through this mire, our souls, like delicate, sensitive wraiths,
Seek fragments of truth in a landscape marred by illusion,
Our eyes, clouded by the allure of hollow achievements,
Struggle to perceive the silent whispers of our deepest hearts.
We are trapped in gilded ironies, where whispers of unity sing a haunting melody,
And yet we turn away, fearing the embrace of our collective strength,
For in a world built on the praises of mind's trickery,
We have forgotten the timeless wisdom that the heart holds.
As night descends, the stars above scribe tales of forgotten unity,
In their light, we glimpse fleeting memories of what could be,
A world where greed relinquishes its throne, making way for wisdom's reign,
Where divisions crumble to dust, and unity breathes life anew.
But until that dawn, where the heart reclaims its rightful voice,
We wander through the twilight, seeking solace in fleeting dreams,
Where the tapestry of existence is woven with threads of truth and love,
And the echoes of our deepest longing resound in the symphony of stars.
In the silent communion of these celestial witnesses,
We find hints of that elusive realm, where the intelligence of the heart prevails,
And though the path is strewn with shadows,
We cling to the hope that one day, the veil will disappear,
Revealing a horizon painted with the dawn of a united, wise, and loving world.
Say goodbye to yesterday
Feelings tortured, waterboarded...
by my fractured mind
Emotions keep good thoughts...
held bound.
I keep suffering in silence...
No one ever knows
Please tell me what to do
to survive.
bridge
What has happened to me
Am I crazy like they say?
Even in the bright light, I am blind.
Chorus
Just say goodbye to yesterday
Cast away all of your fears
'cause today's your day to shine
Just say goodbye to yesterday
don't keep drowning in your tears
You too, like others, can learn to fly
Mental games I keep on playing
with myself everyday
Sad memories replay from years gone by
Why can't I just forgive myself,
and take control of my thoughts?
time heals , they say, so why do I still cry?
bridge
What has happened to me?
Maybe I'm crazy like they say
Why can't the light, penetrate
my darkened mind?
Chorus
Just say goodbye to yesterday
Cast away all of your fears
'cause today's your day to shine
Just say goodbye to yesterday
don't keep drowning in your tears
You too, like others, can learn to fly
Happiness hides in the shadows
of recesses in my mind...
Help me to illuminate my life
Negativity relinquishes
it's hold on a troubled soul...
Let go of the past and you'll be fine
Chorus
Just say goodbye to yesterday
Cast away all of your fears
'cause today's your day to shine
Just say goodbye to yesterday
don't keep drowning in your tears
You too, like others, can learn to fly
Chorus repeat two times
fade to zero
John Derek Hamilton
Mar 12,2017
A millstone around my neck and weight about my feet
drag me down so deeply
that I’m being pulled toward something. . .
something from a darkened dream - nihility -
the place to lose chagrin
and then to taste absolutely nothing.
Tropical delights do not swim here
to brighten the dingy water of my plight.
No rainbow fish dart to and fro where murky disillusionment oozes
all around and through me.
I go lower. . . .
But above me, I can barely see a tinge of rose and of blue,
a sparkling distant light as the void below crouches,
tugging at my soul.
Hope, through ocean’s skin,
peeps down at me.
Rays of reassurance come gleaming through
the layers of my gloom’s descent,
and be it from God. . . or from simple human will,
Prospect calls to me.
I feel wonder as gravity relinquishes its hold,
and the restraints around my ankles now fall off!
The millstone is released. Unencumbered, I ascend.
Up, up, up I go -
bursting to exhale and to take into my lungs
a refreshment of sweet oxygen.
A final surge of spirit . ..
and I’m breaking the surface.
The coral glow of breaking day rushes forth splendidly
to greet me.
Not in the sanguine ordinance of the heart, nor in the fugitive embassy of breath, but in that inviolate interval where succession relinquishes its crown, Love keeps its unspoken dominion.
Who schooled the blood in scarlet mysteries,
Or taught the clay such inward majesty?
Not flesh, whose borrowed splendours fade like seas
When Time withdraws its ancient sovereignty;
But that concealed and antecedent fire
Whose silence outlives every mortal choir.
I passed beyond the ivory walls of bone,
Where marrow held a vigil without name;
Where things forgotten before they were known
Lay folded in an immemorial flame;
And there the dark, unburdened of disguise,
Looked through my soul with uncreated eyes.
The heart, that bronze confessor of the dust,
Raised its twin thunder toward the vault of years;
One stroke proclaimed the visible world to trust,
The next dissolved beyond the reach of spheres;
And in that breathless cleft between the two,
Eternity remembered what we knew.
There Chronos laid his sceptre in the sand,
And Number lost the kingdom it had won;
The stars grew still beneath an older hand,
As night confessed the labour of the sun;
For Being, stripped of all its borrowed art,
Returned to the silence beneath the heart.
Then came the vision reason could not bind:
A shadowless bird passed through a mountain’s core;
No wound remained upon the adamant mind
Of stone that had endured the world before;
Yet from its depths there trembled into air
A song that no created throat could bear.
Then I beheld what no decree could prove:
Love was not flame, nor breath, nor mortal claim;
It was the interval where all things move
Before they enter form and take a name;
The hidden mercy no beginning owns,
The pulse between the marrow and the stones.
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.
Hearts that have never loved before,
can't taste a gratuitous tenderness;
and they lament why they haven't been blessed!
They have wrestled and lost that grip on growth,
and with a gravelly voice,they grumble...
to allow grudge guard them against hurt:
miserably failing to consider
evidence with excessive cupidity;
grinding their teeth, and swelling with
ignorance to defend their culpable irony:
would they ever admit or agree...
that disbelief is a settled matter?
The thirsty souls never exhaust their search
to invigorate an existence that exercises caution,
to exhort praise and excel without evoking regrets;
be exiguous,never detestable or hide emotion:
bear witness and disinter any probable doubt...
be ready to withstand the wind-storms
that come violently to subjugate a mischievous spirit;
but the astute one is not persuaded by urge,
to exude that extreme joy which repulses each
false thought that disbelief is a settled matter!
A good father treats his kids equally and fairly,
and shows enthusiasm to revel in their their triumph;
so does God...to restore confidence in us, not confine it!
A rebellious soul is lost,if it relinquishes its claim
to be saved when circumstances are favorable; no light
can be incandescent, if it lacks heat,
and an impure heart doesn't feel the necessity to thrive...
until is forced to lie down and slowly die!
How can anyone fail through faith,
and truly be convinced that
disbelief is a settled matter...
which can,somehow,cause more fear and despair!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
In the hands
Of mother nature
Summer shines
In the heat
Blossoms bloom beautiful
From a bouquet
of every colour
The sun relinquishes
Her throne
to night
Falls in leaves
Golden in celebration
Petals whither
Die in her honour
The fruit
her summer bounty
Awaiting the arrival
To feel
In the harsh coldness
A chill in the bones
Falling to winter
In the beginning
Spring awakens snowdrops
Kissed by the sun
Smiling new beginnings
In the sound of music
Song birds sing
As the cock crows
welcoming the sun
Sings to the light
in joy of life
Sitting in an open meadow
To the call of whipper wills
He places his pen in motion
As the winds calm to a still
Nature turns to bend an ear
To what he has to say
The stream near by so crystal clear
Slows down in its wake
The words flow out in rhythm
As mighty eagles soar
Distant thunder clouds cry out loud
Urging him for more
He is natures poet
Brought forth at this time
To bring nature back together
In simple poem and rhyme
But the poetry isn't so simple
As rhyme flows through near by wood
Mother nature relinquishes the reigns
All for the common good
Every living thing feels the power
In this poets pen
Waiting for the perfect timing
To where all can begin again
With life back in balance
He travels to where it is he came
Until we are in need
Of natures poet once again