Long Remotest Poems
Long Remotest Poems. Below are the most popular long Remotest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Remotest poems by poem length and keyword.
Dark thoughts emerging from a lifeless spirit,
a wandering ship sinking into the remotest depths;
denying itself reality and its sense of comfort...
and was ever there a lighthouse to disperse its darkness?
A captain stirring his erring ship,amid furious waves,
for an imminent and fierce war,
not noticing the making of its destiny...
fighting unnecessary battles of ambiguity,
hoping that luck would bring it safely ashore;
even a small island was hidden from his gaze!
An unwise listener would not take advice from anybody,
he didn't reject it embracing his own vulnerability;
a good decision that didn't imply a cost...
would he ever been discouraged or lost?
For uncountable years, this eager sea-man,
resisted and spoiled many pleasures for victory...
freezing time to avoid another tragedy
with a perception so sharp to defy anyone's will!
And did he deserve the harshest judgment
from others, who were pleased with their fate?
Loneliness was chosen by him
for unequivocal reasons and he craved it
like the bitterest, strongest wine
to make him strong and invincible...
nothing swayed him from his pride
to obtain that impossible goal!
Butterfly so lustrous and you are
remarkably carefree, free willed
Butterfly you are without unease
or concern. Butterfly fly to the highest
remotest part known and unknown landing
places. Butterfly go sky-high and spread
your wings with no skepticism or iffy
patterns or illuminations butterfly spread
your wings rhythmically
Scratching at reality
as it bites
the head from time
Struggling yawns at insipid dawns
relevance bends and breaks
Front to ???q
uck says the f
defend the loose errs
Keep has been kept
Defy imagine nations
Diction orders the nary
Words twist into swords
lest we test the letters or just be settlers
Take my open hand
no hope and nowhere to land
control and condone the remotest controlled
Rolled and rocked
To a beat that doesn't follow
too morrow worms and tow two moor
Thin king or is it just an ink thing
any one an inkling
Can't follow then don't
Pb is led
All that glitters is not Au
Looking for Ag in the lining
Dread dead add ad a
Live lived veiled deviled and reviled
Knew knew new
Sympathy grows closer with an e
all of us junkies
made from drugs
electron bursts
in dreams of unknown hues
as i walk in deaths corroding shoes
I wasn't there again today
wonder what the man on the stair had to say
Chanting vibes in Bangla, I sing
Bengali, words confluence in lyrical verse
O glory be! I envision thee in inner me
I caress thee in remotest pristine Bangla waterfalls.
Chanting vibes in Bangla, I sing
Bengali, words confluence in lyrical verse
O glory be! I envision thee in inner me
I caress thee in remotest pristine Bangla waterfalls.
Chanting vibes in Bangla, I sing
Bangla, words confluence in lyrical verse
I vision in Bengali, as my melody flows in her
Affection cradles me, while roaming this far.
Bengali speaks in Subtle poems, Jibanananda resonates in soul within
My yearning is quenched in thirst, as your face solace reason.
I ponder once in her tranquil face
I ponder there for incessant times.
I speak in my Bangla,
I speak for my Bangla
Submerged in Bangla,
I smile. Weave in verse,
and verse reflects in sense.
I speak in my Bangla,
I speak for my Bangla
Submerged in Bangla,
I smile. Weave in verse,
and verse reflects in sense.
I rejoice in Bengali. With all my exclamations
I mourn for the fallen, along the way, forgotten.
I cringe in silent cry, mourn as Bangla surges
Intellect fosters, too much helpless a situation.
I ponder once in her tranquil face
I ponder there for incessant times
Bangla is my resilient oath,
The sharpest aim in arrows in flights.
I ponder once in her tranquil face
I ponder there for incessant times
Bangla is my resilient oath,
The sharpest aim in arrows in flights.
I ponder once in her tranquil face
I ponder there for incessant times.
I love thee. My verses, Bangla, an eloquent evocation
I love along my Bangla , one silent simpering resonance
Bangla. O my utterance in my truest may!
I hold thy grace, with my earnest hands,
and boldly tell the world, say!
I love thee. My verses, Bangla, eloquent evocation
I love along my Bangla , one silent simpering resonance
Bangla. O my utterance in my truest may!
I hold thy grace, with my earnest hands,
and boldly tell the world, say!
I greeted her, on a generous moment
with grace and courage. Humility.
Where the Seven Oceans and merging rivers
churns in the ballads of the Ganges and the ever-enchanting Padma.
Bangla quenches my inner thirst
The boldest droplet that lasts for long,
I ponder once in her tranquil face
I ponder there for incessant times
And cherish for my evergreen murmurs of a Bangla song.
Things are quiet when I’m so far away,
No one can hear what I say,
And the sun sets in blue along the horizon,
By the end of each glorious day,
On this little red planet made of iron and dust,
This planet I now call my home,
This quiet bare land where no man has been,
Just me here living alone,
With my batteries for life, solar panels for food,
I wander around oh so slow,
I’ve learnt how to live on this uninhabited land,
And my mind it’s learning to grow,
So I wrote my own book about my beautiful life,
Being sent here down from the stars,
How I set everything up on this remotest of places,
I’m the robot called Adam on Mars.
Scorched
moss
remnant
speck of dust,
dainty dot matchbox
plume ex tiny chaser light chain,
dried out moist field, drought a wretched blight, habitat woe,
as wide sweep venal mindsets purge swathe after swathe of candle fly inbred impish glint,
they feeble bugs, leaf strewn dwellers whose twinkle once power charmed tree tops, lush pastures, putrid logs, harmless to the touch, dodging worldly brass nerve,
warm-hearted watchers for the environment who pose not the remotest threat of even miniscule proportions, now diminishing landscape feature, they atrophy, sag, shrivel, wither, languish, a pointless premature death
Faint,
spark,
smothered,
frail flicker,
doused by wanton strafe,
of bogus blitz on firefly swarm,
whose sintered flecks luminous once a mint meadow rash,
fetid stench on sombre marsh morgue deathly plummet in wet woodland, squelching plot interred,
winsome wing glow worm surreal,
larval lantern love, a spring twilight trail flash mate signal in mid-flight flare, haphazard helix of red flame,
lightning mimicry from maiden whose passion quest quenched querulous by nightmarish callous earthling hand clamped coffin dull click, twilight yellow, blue ghost, witching hour green tint spectaclenow grave entombment, mourning planet sheds tears
Scorched
moss
remnant
speck of dust,
dainty dot matchbox
plume ex tiny chaser light chain,
dried out moist field, drought a wretched blight, habitat woe,
as wide sweep venal mindsets purge swathe after swathe of candle fly inbred impish glint,
they feeble bugs, leaf strewn dwellers whose twinkle once power charmed tree tops, lush pastures, putrid logs, harmless to the touch, dodging worldly brass nerve,
warm-hearted watchers for the environment who pose not the remotest threat of even miniscule proportions, now diminishing landscape feature, they atrophy, sag, shrivel, wither, languish, a pointless premature death
Life has an unseen, funny side...
more thrilling than a pony's ride;
am I so discouraged and doubtful without a realistic insight,
to give upon my half-won battles,
and the people who seem uncaring?
But does it mean that no flame is burning,
and the hands on the clock have stopped moving;
how long have you known me and didn't see my woes?
O friends, I don't mask myself under disguise,
and I don't hide beyond the false smiles to genuinly express myself;
anything I say or do is a pure delight and surprise!
Externally I may seem friendly and affectionate,
but internally I churn the bitter reality of my plight:
a lonely seeking the unlonely on the edge of a cliff,
where his voice is stronger than the hot wind;
a fearless voice echoing amid the massive and rugged canyons of the desert!
Come rain, and soothe my thirst with your raindrops, wash my hands and feet
that need to rest after the longest and remotest jeourney;
in a dark cave, I will find refuge and by the crackling fire I'll sleep!
And peeking through the shadows, I'll see many stars twinkling to keep me company;
and what else, beside this guitar can cheer up a lonely seeking the unlonely?
Huddled under this warm blanket, I'm too confortable to go hunting, although I'm hungry;
beer and chili are enough to fill up my belly until light shimmers through the thick fog,
then would I feel like a lonely seeking the unlonely...if the pelting rain inspired a song?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Visualize a soldier in combat,
looking far with a camouflaged helmet:
fingers on the trigger, always ready on its target;
to shoot, if anybody attacks!
Fearful soldier, don't lose heart:
your patriotism is perceived well,
and another medal will add more pride...
to substitute it for any unspoken lie;
a hurtful lie which seems too evident in every fright:
for serving your country and going through hell!
Soldier, you have turned twenty today,
and your hidden fears are many;
and the vibrant youth which was
meant to be lived by experiencing joy and being care-free:
is the remotest dream in your pensive and lost gaze...
amid echoing blasts at the break of day!
Visualize a soldier in combat, shivering inside,
gathering up more courage to win the last fight...
too frightened to scream and cry aloud;
not so afraid to kill...in order to survive!
Soldier, have faith and believe you'll live to see again
those distant faces that cried on your farewell;
they haven't forgotten you....as you haven't: all the long letters,
written with warm tears, still have that special place in their hearts!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Life is worthless
I am valueless
Everyone despises me
He said....
He got a rope
Around his neck it went
Then unto the tree
In the remotest part
Of the jungle...
His lifeless body was found
By passersby
Who stumbled upon it
On their weary way
From their farms...
Such is the tale
The world over.
Old
Young
Men
Women
Boys
Girls
All commit it
The greatest of crimes
Against oneself...
Suicide....
Why will I
Want to kill myself?
Maybe...
I am poor
My boyfriend jilted me
My bank is after me
I am in a deep mess
My self esteem is lost....
All and all and all...
Is why they go for it...
Whatever you face
Wherever it hits you
Whenever it comes...
Suicide is never an option...
The bedbug told her kids
Whatever is hot
Must become cold
It's a tide...
It will wash off...
Suicide...
The greatest crime
Of all time....