Long Remaining Poems
Long Remaining Poems. Below are the most popular long Remaining by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Remaining poems by poem length and keyword.
The New Year
It is a new year...
It is a new day.
It is the first day...
of many more.
The problem,
and the answer...
It came and went.
Much like all the rest,
that would follow
but more importantly,
than those remaining,
it set the mood.
It was quiet here, in the country.
The rooster gave it a go,
all night long at the moon...
just to say goodbye,
and then again when the sun
came up... to say hello.
What a surprise to all?
The wolf joined in,
at the beginning and never stopped,
until the end.
The ducks laughed.
They laughed until the dawn...
Then they were quiet again.
The cow woke up just in time,
to see the first rays...
and was glad...
the old year was gone.
The chickens slept thru it all.
They laid eggs the next morning
just as they always did.
They were all perfect, as expected.
The Lord's bounty clearly visible,
in the barn,
in the yard,
on the farm.
There is a hard frost on the ground now.
It is colder than it has ever been,
but there is no snow.
The grass crackles
when you walk across its surface
and has long since turned brown.
The crystals,
water formed miracles...
make everything shine,
like the world is truly new.
Yet the sun continues,
ever melting the world,
back into place,
not in fantasy land,
or outer space,
but here.
Real, to feel.
Simulates Sunsets
In tranquility, among the cosmos, embers as we
Think of you. In light-years of longing in a single moment.
For yes, we are Stardust Connection, as celestial winds
blowing through the infinite colours of smiles we share.
In our signalized world, the sky transforms from a human
Daytime ceiling into an open window to the cosmos.
Where we get a glimpse behind the grand galactic theater
A brief moment into the twilight, amethyst shifts, then
Becomes a visitation palette, receptive to the vibrant
Frequencies through another spectacular dimension.
Reflects a soft glow, then descends into a red farewell
To otherworldly planets, escaping time.
This aurora light drifts between worlds.
A solar cycle compared to Neptune’s deep azure.
A greenish-blue far away from Uranus.
We can only imagine for a moment the ice giant
floating, while reflecting its colors out:
Yet remaining so frigid.
Still, we look upwards into the night glimpse,
And feel that first look of wonder.
My Purpose
Written: by Tom Wright
4/25/2018
A reason exists, known to God, for my remaining,
Facing health issues, that lifestyle, is so constraining.
Since the “widow maker” failed in doing its thing,
God has allowed me to experience another spring.
My return to doing things has become my obsession,
And because of inability I now deal with depression.
While I now realize, things won’t be found as before,
I’ve a sense of confinement to a space with no door.
My exercise of Faith, I exhibit, in my extreme trust,
Through prayer, God allows me, too bad days adjust.
God has moved me to see my need to become adept,
Doing things within confines, and the balance to accept;
(His will)
** Watching Time **
From all analog to any
Digitally shown markings
Of humanity’s invented
Way to watch over Light
— passing or coming —
Time…
In less than a breath,
So, so many ways our anxious
Noting of hours may be halted:
By accidents or by
The Will of Heaven!
Remember ever seelng those once
“Must-be-shown” to the garden’s
visitors? — Those unique,
Stone, short, column-standing
Sundials, marking the hours
With shadow and sunbeams
Since 1500 B.C.E., which have
Long been overgrown — all
Caught up in ever-ongoing
Miles of shade-overwhelmed, leaf-
Overhanging trees, and, too,
From climate affected heat
And rain…The gray, raining
Clouds so thick and towering
On high with the rising
Moisture of all humanity’s
Tears.
Then there will always be
The remaining, need-to-know
Few, who for medical or
Technical or religious
Or any other practical or
Curious reson, will try to
Fix their Heaven-warned
Clocks, and to finally give up
…Calculating to guess-estimate
By motions of the sun, the
Moon or the constellions; by
The ebb and flow of tides
Until, finally, in the far
Places, when necessary, to
Pen lines on paper, or
Like (we may suppose) our
Earliest ancestors, resort to
Notching strokes on sticks: to
Keep track of all the transient
Things that can’t be fixed, or
Hidden…Finally, quitting numbers
To throw it all off to Magic
With all the other unexplained
Wonders there aren’t any ideas
For, and at last figure up all
Those anxious guesses about the
Hour of the End-of-Time by the
Repeticious and exhausting
Counting of fingers and toes.
———————————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 6/8-7/10/2023
most instances when i initially seat
myself priming creative literary juices to flow,
an unspecified number hours elapse
before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh
revelation transpires
witnessing, this scruffy, prickly,
and madly scratching itchy hairs
dotting chinny chin chin of this hobo
hook huns hitters hymns elf
tubby a generic home
er run (hitting) mill
(on the floss sing false teeth)
common everyday fluky,
nippy, nap noopy Joe,
whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea
(Egg heads, merely
scrambled random thought fragments
at that stage) scrunching brow
activates laser focus,
a scattershot burst of tangential thread populate
formerly barren tabula rasa,
sans, Lenovo external screen
once again defying (tomb me
akin to some eternal mystery),
trucked since time immemorial
inexplicable, that sudden ignition
asper cerebral automatic
catalytic converter kickstarter
(hmm...perhaps cogs and gears
housed within medulla oblongata)
foster fecund fertilization,
an inexplicable phenomena,
I dune hot know
explanation, but upon advent
whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate
coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life
when there appears just the merest hint
of fledgling wispy notions strive similar
to sperm cells
fervently whipsawing vis a vis,
via flagellation motility misfits
and false starts before this crotchety scribe
mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea
congeals, expresses, and forms
grandiose manifest destiny
mentioned above i.e. Ho
Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis
seems like a versatile
self determining tour de force
whereat fingers of the lefthand
move of their own volition spilling forth poe
whet tree once expended leaves (of grass)
finds me Walt sing whit man nigh hick cull
tickled pink with a soft after glow.
Candles Never Lit
Wicks held captive
Or perhaps
Protected
Embryos held in tethered limbo
What shall the flame's first breath be
Beneath a citadel of worship
A first birthday
A stealth venture into the attic
An exploration through one's innate catacombs
Experienced alone
Life's simple tool made company
Exploring rooms of discovery
A comfort-place of isolation
Where one's dreams
One's fears
Remain ever faithful to light's purpose
For just as birth bears but singular reality
So too the limpid string
Encased in its molten nativity
Made hard
To last
Is used
As the grounding
The tool enabling serene freedom
Glimmer's heat
Radiance flickering
One's ethereal passion
Seeks no object to burn
No identity to possess
But solely to be
The candle's flame
But for imagining
Dreams of no restrictions
Just as the child sees everything as natural
Just as the shimmer of what can be
Is
Except for those who...
Only beholden to the consent
Of one's creativity
One's willingness to burn fully
Then accept the dimming
For the moment
Having expended its full radiance
For now
But remaining ever ready for the next lighting
How sad
Those boxed candles never lit
Knowing never of their purpose
Sweep the empty bottles away
The last remaining drops drip silently out
Lay back against the wall
In some home on the edge of the world
My tunneled vision begins to open
And the blurriness begins clear
My parachute opened
To pull me out of my free fall
So far away from the world
My addictions fluctuate
My tongue is dry but my head is clear
A smile creeps on my face
But so far away from the world
My addictions fluctuate
My head is clear but my mind is roiling
As it always has done
I know what's gone wrong
My past can't be my present
I'm aware of that all
But through my muddled mind, I can't accept it
Sobriety is just out of reach
Could I just have a push?
All I need is one more push...
And I can be at peace again.
As darkness wriggled into every place,
The land was governed by a veil of silence.
The previous vivid life had left no trace,
All but some crickets singing in defiance.
The mortal realm stood petrified as though
Succumbing to the conquest of the night.
However, in the sky, a tiny glow
Was rather willing to put up a fight.
What a one-sided clash of force
Conducted by the rebel and the tyrant,
And yet a brutal one without remorse
Between the little David and the giant.
Oh, how alike we were, the lonely star
That dwelled in an unfathomed galaxy!
Though separated by a space too far,
We both possessed a common destiny.
We were the beacons of sagacity,
The last remaining citadels of light
Amidst the ocean of opacity
That wrapped the whole world in the depths of night.
Relish the thrill of discovering a new zone.
Eat locally and breathe fresh air.
Wonderful ambitions to pursue dare.
Spend a night out wanting to eat alone.
Attempting to reach the maximum height.
Diving into deep seas and soaring to the sky.
Be authentic on a hypnotic sway.
Just savor the ocean view from my sight.
Decide what you knew was right.
Effect of playing lyres with feathers.
Higher tones are halcyon and a treasure.
My mind and body sensed the bond light.
Into the Universe of Pure Blissful Art.
Notwithstanding this love was a shadow.
The butterflies wings were pale yellow.
Remaining in the flashes of sight apart.
Written: November 16, 2022
Many people believe that Satan is a myth, they think that he doesn't exist.
Sadly, he is real and the evil things that he causes are too many to list.
The world keeps getting worse and worse, people lie, cheat and commit crimes.
The reason why things are getting worse is because Satan is working overtime.
Satan and his demons are unleashing more evil because their remaining time is getting shorter as each day goes by.
Satan will be destroyed and he wants to take as many with him as he can before he is defeated by God and condemned to die.
Fifty years ago children could take walks by themselves and return safe and sound.
If children do that now, they are either abducted or end up being buried in the ground.
If you don't believe me, you'll find a wall of missing children at a Walmart that's close to where I live.
People who are stealing, killing and doing other evil things had better stop it and ask The Lord to forgive.
Satan and his demons work hard at corrupting people and they'll try to corrupt both me and you.
When this happens, we must ask God to give us strength and support, that is what we must do.