Long Restlessness Poems
Long Restlessness Poems. Below are the most popular long Restlessness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Restlessness poems by poem length and keyword.
We trudge through life for unworthy causes,
and quite often it's too much of a great risk
to outlive those hardships and come out victorious;
but it's in fighting that we regain our lost strenght...
We build treasures
and see in them glimpses of restlessness,
never dauntless courage:
only to realize our bitter disppointments;
and the smallest victory seems
only a delusive dream,
falsely envisioned and capable
of drawing us to its realm...
Why should we take
the taunted mystery out of divination?
To make us aware of our realities
so riddled with self-doubt,
which won't require explanations,
considering only the ones worth-keeping
by simply avoiding those less-promising!
Will we be guided by a sense of intuition?
Rise above your pretentious state,
spark and enhance your aspirations;
and take in consideration
the truthful words of a wise man,
"Life can be a nurturing mother from within...
always giving us dauntless courage!"
Achievements are the fruit of planted dreams,
where the relentless and unrivaled spirit expresses
its emotions through fairness and truth;
and whenever a misguided soul
wanders off into the remotest darkness:
it will die without having felt
or possessed any significant worth!
And being held captive and deprived
of the simplest joys that ignite tears,
it will have no other reason to avenge!
And,all in all,it had wished
to have sought dauntless courage...
Beauty’s Bequest
By Odin Roark
Some say
We all have one
An enigmatic wild stallion within
Seeking sounds and symbols
To become a tundra of words
Its landscape of expression
Here
Time’s pace and rhythm
Carried by nature’s patient breath
Echo’s passion rides
Between the canyons walls
Of mind and heart
Knowing well the joy
Of unbridled passage
Thought by many
As a poet’s gift
This tenuous control
Of eager restlessness
Seeks little repose
Painfully aware
The vanishing of a moment
The eclipse of a thought
Might recede into
Infinite darkness
The stallion often bolts
For
Taming forces are everywhere
Incapable of recognizing the exquisite
Ignorant of imagination unlimited
The have-nots fight to fence in
One’s galloping unfurled spirit
Armies have trodden atop this soil
Dynasties have horded such open sky wealth
Yet efforts to make permanent captive
This ambulant prerogative
Find endurance undeniably present
Some wonder…
Why must that
Deemed beautiful
Inspiring
Tenacious of will
Remain so vulnerable?
Yet
For the stalwart
Just as a rose
Seeks perpetual awareness
Between a book’s pages
Beauty’s elegant passing
Knows to embrace its powdery remains
Riding atop eternity’s trade winds
Levitating in perpetuity until…
Tomorrow’s tomorrow
Presents another sunrise
Where light and color
Moved by nature’s gentle breath
Prepares shadow’s trace to encounter
Saddled ugliness trying again to
Bridle perfection’s grace in motion
And so
Poets continue to offer
Beauty’s essence
Privilege
And ingenuous smile
A magical state of mind
Deserving indomitable freedom
Hopefully never harnessed
*Image of Morning Rise by Giphy.
Spirited Gestures
Cast restlessness about the wind,
That toss and empty leaves from trees,
The autumn season sees them thinned,
A tingling sense of breathing squeeze,
Be auburn reds hint golden scene,
Like royal robes and crowning queen.
Genteel polish a crystal shine,
Oblige passage involving wake,
Luster beckons whispering shrine,
A pristine call edges a lake,
Mindful ears recognize courses,
Coming wafts like thirsty horses.
Slight Boreas push chills a bit,
Zephyrus cut short, warms again,
A tit for tat that never quit,
The disturbed rest till strength regain,
Nature takes heed and nothing more,
Benumbed deep down within its core.
Relaxed lay calm felt now surrounds,
Idling base fresh breezes fill,
Perianths rise and fall on grounds,
Prompts unfailing the currents spill,
Unseen traces the length of thee,
Forces abound heaven's decree.
2022 September 28
*8th Place*
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 September 28
*RZ; ababcc, dedeff, ghghii, jkjkll. HMS; 8 syllables per 24 lines.
“When we contemplate the globe as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands, flying through space with other stars all singing and shining together as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty.” John Muir
THE TATTERDEMALION KITE
the restlessness of the profound can only follow a Gandi-path. alone in a wilderness, where God performs breathlessness of CPR. his cold-damp cloth covers the forehead and his pierced and merciful palm keeps one from falling into the abyss. the euphoria of his creation, often curtailed for a season — the tatterdemalion kite with long tails, unable to keep one’s feet on the ground. the dank earth gives way to unearthed caves; the kaleidoscopic kite sails to highest heights. if i can only touch one finger of God, in childlike fervor, the same finger that created Adam…weightless, ceiling debris like asteroids surrounding me. do you feel the excitement of the cracking. smiling, the Son of God allows his glory to peek out through heaven’s door.
10/31/2019
He sings to me of love and hope,
Inspires my spirit, helps me to cope,
Invites me to feel His amazing light
Singing to me – day and night
He embraces me with his gentleness,
Whispering hope, soothing restlessness,
Coloring my dreams in sweetest grace
Love this alive stirs a fire time can’t erase
He treats me like a child, a beloved infant
Someone to cherish, someone sufficient,
A heart and a soul – with love that inspires
Feelings that bleed through my life like fires
He abides with me – His unending peace
Reflecting joy and wonder, abundant increase,
Lifting up my hopes and dreams, silencing
Every doubt and fear with beautiful enlightening
He reminds me that I’m His, forever blessed
By the sacrifice, the cross He braved, giving His best
So that I might never suffer the darkness of hell,
The place meant for the angels who fell
He considers all of my worst sins, my worst wrongs
Wipes away my past with a music that belongs
To the soul, the spirit – the belief that brings healing
Thanks to His grace, on my knees – I’m still kneeling
Never skeptical, never hesitant to believe the One
Who lived and died and rose once again – saying it’s done,
The victory has been won – forever and always, the greatest love
Has been shown – love from God’s only Son, the One I speak of
Thanks to this Jesus who saved my soul
I am alive – thanking the One who made me whole,
The One who I know as Savior and Son,
Thanks to His grace – I’ll know eternal life in the long run
Praising God – P R A I S I N G – Praying… praising
The One who made me, the Creator – so amazing!
Written 2 December 2023
A Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Do`s and Don`ts
Avoid thirteenth of Fridays
for any new ventures
for any new businesses
Skip number 13 in buildings
in hotel rooms
In private hospitals
Be careful when driving
walking or moving
after seeing
a black cat crossing
the street
Sanctify all food
during an eclipse
before consuming them
Don`t sweep one`s home
nor clip one`s nails
after 6 p.m.
nor on Thursdays
Don`t start new projects
undertake new initiatives
or construct new buildings
Don`t start new love affairs
or wedding proposals
during Kharmas months*
These become asphyxiating
choking
irritating
stifling
strangling
throttling
Yet these are observed
to avoid agony
anguish
anxiety
regrets
remorse
repentance
distress
restlessness
sadness
unhappiness
sorrows
worries and woes
in favour of
calmness
cohesion
peacefulness
quietness
quietude
in personal life
family surrounds
or official transactions
with apathy
indifference
insouciance
nonchalance,
mindlessness
imperviousness
These become
a way of surviving
a way of living
a way of life.
While granules from past season’s flakes
thaw the impatience of my own caprice
amidst the restlessness of mid-winter,
clay gathers new fragrance of tangy moss.
Back at one, infant stars bequeath light
upon clouds resting on a drape of reverie,
the music of firstborn days stirring the wake
of garnet’s ardour with time’s new dial---
a little fiery perhaps---as opposed
to the acrid taste of a cycle’s old debris--
allowing this new ambrosia to ressurect me
from the scab of past undoing.
................
Hello January Contest
by nette onclaud
Raindrops pelted against the window, rolling down the paned glass like tears,
Not unlike the way tears were rolling down my pained face,
The sky was crying with me,
As the plants drowned in the rain,
It felt like I was drowning in my worries,
There was a restlessness within me, and I knew I couldn’t just sit there,
I knew I couldn’t just allow my anxiety to take over,
I stepped into the rainstorm, just for a moment,
And let it wash away all the negativity, all the overthought thoughts,
And as I stepped inside once more,
I could take a proper breath,
I was calm once again, everything was okay.
Which other desire is nobler
than an ardent wish for peace?
A longing for wars to cease
and make everybody fonder...
that spilling blood increases boiling
as the horrendous scenes implicate!
Conflicts are the cause of restlessness,
the blessed fruits of concord bring togetherness;
who's settling for hopelessness and poverty...
instead of gladness and abundance?
Buildings tumble down, people are crushed to death;
why weren't the warning signs of threat
anticipated to avoid useless loss of lives?
How despicable leaders are with their unmercifulness!
Nobody realizes that the Earth was created
to be inherited by us turning it into a Paradise;
instead, we have ruined it and desolated it from the living,
showing no concern for people, no appreciation for God:
while the oppressed look to the future with a dismal feeling:
Mankind is to blame for their plagues and demise!
Free yourself from strife, contempt, and bitterness,
cultivate your opulent garden of placidness;
God guarantees your safety and punishes
the intruders who try to seize it with vengefulness...
pray and write your praises to Him who's merciful:
laud Him with prayers and your blessings will be bountful!
Except I’m not allowed to time travel.
I could go through ten years, 20 years, 37 years of butterflies doing their thing.
Strange voices.
Or unawareness, whichever comes first.
Into the beehive which is restlessness, and maybe never happened again.
Except I’m not allowed to time travel.
I am carrying mud of the past across the kitchen of existence.
Mangled expectations for:
Ten years ago.
Strange voices didn’t exist, just numb stuff.
The powers didn’t exist in some ways,
Maybe I manifested being a burden instead.
Which explains that summer,
At least in a way I could understand.
Now.
They know I can time travel.
They can predict what I would pack in a bag.
So they took away all the stuff I packed three days from now.
I used to read minds, now they have that from my bag they took.
Now I can’t even read words in the ether or the TV.
Yes you.
Except I’m not allowed to time travel.
I live in an era mangled from myself.
And one of us in the future, one is the flickering light fixture in here.
The rusted shower handles might be from another universe.
Except I’m not allowed to time travel.
What, honey?
See you in a week or something.
I used my powers to shut them up.
Evil laughter continued anyway.