Long Rituals Poems
Long Rituals Poems. Below are the most popular long Rituals by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rituals poems by poem length and keyword.
DEATH OF LOVE
==============
For the past one month,
There is no sun rise in my world
For the past one week,
There is no breathing in my heart
Why all these and what for?
Cause she told me to
marry another girl in my life
What wrong with me? and
Why she told me in such a way?
Cause she is not belonging my caste
Yes. She is from a down trodden community
Whats wrong in it?
The olden,rotten creatures told
it is crime against Him and rituals.
Both we got married with ever paining hearts
But she dead at a sudden cause
her guilt has killed her peace and life
Oh! THE ROTTEN OLD PIGS
Not to cross on the life of lovers.
SAKTHI RAVICHANRAN
The Clown fish had brimming eyes, a montage flown back to
Jaflong , a memory lane
I wonder I felt overwhelmed, as if yesterday’s incomplete hard
and fast, rituals and alone
Over pouring overboard, ornate orange diva and monsoon rain and
Jaflong time and greeting say
Holistic a rueful an encapsulation, by the by a rare tracing cue
with a poetic erotica, radiant way
My lover boy had a momentum of her ever persevering prodigy,
stable, and eloquent, a remedy
Who called him a done deal? Or vulnerable? Majestic that artist
resides in me, in swargachira, and painful days of cotton clouds
We touched the star of the eternity, inevitable teardrops and a
bye , is it showmanship other than that?
Please pioneer, bless her soul, give a diligent due to her blessing,
mantra, mainland holy wedlock, lock the bits and pieces of state
news, in unwholesome
Ah……………! Where art Thou!
Excuse and executive, too much of a sensational mayhem to hum
along a reverie zeal !
And what about me! Oh! I was in my evangelical pain, the holistic
truth and only one to prevail!
I have ample recess time, with an album of not so friendly goon of
songs, an ode to an Indian nightingale!
Ransom from the Pit
I’ve bled my dues in shadows deep,
The scrolls are signed, the records kept.
In my fist, the iron key bites
A jagged tooth to unlock the light.
Behind me, five small shadows tread,
Their ransom paid in sweat and dread.
I’ve bought their breath, I’ve cleared their debt,
To cheat the flames of the Hinnom pit
That they may never taste the smoke,
Or wither beneath Gehenna’s yoke.
After their deaths they were being held in the spiritual realm awaiting judgement. Cannalo, bora, and buree.
Marcus the Hells keeper was interviewing them and showing sympathy, he told them that they were in debt and had to pay.
All they had to do was lock the door their grandad opened with the key when they earned it. Canalo suggested Marcus and her get together and torture her sister who was still alive and to throw her in hells deepest pit. She wasn’t going to lock any door so her alive sister could live.
What cannolo did was make a dash for the keys Marcus was holding. She also grabbed his light pen. From there Marcus stood back and witnessed her actions.
They overpowered Marcus and stole valuable items from behind the door and started using the power they gained.
Marcus left them to it. Meanwhile they did rituals to throw the sister in hell even though she was alive. Darkness entered her life.
So, Marcus had to intervene and tell the sister to pay her way to get out.
The sister obeyed and paid and locked the door. In the final hours of the sister leaving, they made the daring jump to run away through the door but broke all their bones as it was the spiritual realm and no soul can walk the earth. They fell flat on their faces.
And they turned into piles of salt.
Written February 05, 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the depths of my soul,
a well bursts forth,
a reservoir of ancient echoes
and cosmic whispers.
Love transcends borders and time,
sycamore and lotus were entwined
while nightingales serenade the valley
song rituals in moonstone rhyme.
a tapestry of timeworn tunes and cosmic lore.
Her face graces the dark sky, as a moonstone,
long-forgotten vows shimmer in the ether.
Twin fires ignite in galaxies afar beyond,
dragon fire etched our love's sublime zodiac
when prophecy's sword stalks the earth
Our love is a constellation,
forged in the fiery breath of dragons.
The world teeters on the brink
of prophecy's keen edge,
Bound by threads of light
and shadow intertwined.
As I gaze upon the stars,
her silhouette dances.
Woven by light-shadow threads.
she sways as she peers at the orbs,
veiled in drifts of sandalwood and mist
feeling the depth of our bond,
as I softly exhale your name.
Shadows entwined in swirling tornadoes,
bittersweet butterfly kisses linger,
soft lips meet, sending warmth.
Cascading across the skin,
a kismet-proof, mystical fetter.
Cloaked in veils of mist
and warm jasmine scent,
absence transforms into a cavern
filled with nightingale songs,
Echoing through valleys
gently kissed by dawn’s first light
and even within the katabatic abyss,
hope's feather caresses,
Whispering tales of eternity
beneath emerald skies.
Her hollow heart remains an enigma.
Laden with the sweet melodies of doves.
cooing tenderness across valleys.
Kissed by the first blush of dawn.
Shivers dance down her spine.
And even in the pervasive silence,
hope heavenly feather flutters,
whimsical whispers of timeless stories
beneath brilliant, blooming blue,
Over emerald embers, we soar.
Her face was filled with a soft lavender scent.
Despite her passing, her love persists,
through hope-filled caverns,
silver cloud embraces us in light.
We shared our hearts beyond glass urns
Bumping against the seraphic layout of stars,
as a kiss that transcends time itself.
Though I yearn for eternal rest
and free from his violation
I unravel in his charismatic force
compelled by wild dark eyes
I am but a frail heirloom
composed, submissive, spellbound tied
In the arms of uncertainty
a daughter of Athena
enduring loves legacies, courted by gods
desired by many suitors
cursed by others jealousy and ruling reigns
Two immortal flames
mortal eternals, there is no conforming
We drink from the aguarossa
blood-red rose redeemer
in our underworld’s Leviticus larva
naught rituals regress
our binds cannot be broken
Forever rooted in our rapturous rhythm
plucked from poetic plight
I am but sparkling stardust, silica dense
spoiled by his fire, enwrapped in his core,
whilst I dance upon his soul
On a pedestal, where he has taken me,
a gypsum statue on his Tristan thrown,
he jots his visceral venom vignette
entrapping me in bane sonnets
It’s a god forbidden grapnel gameboard,
where dark words rise like blades of passion
in roulette’s rivalry, his cabaret
Goddesses being the hecatomb
in chivalries of chaotic romanticism
I long to be set free, released
from the portrait I am fated to portray
from lovesickness, unbereft of love's vow
from the bound wrists in gyves
free from his violation
I yearn for eternal rest
As melodious meadows breeding play and fun,
With music of laughter and vibrant cheer,
Woven in the rhythm of playful wins and losses,
In grounds where sorrows fear to peep in...
Don’t bring the fog-stitched pathways of
Thobes, cassocks, or robes.
Oh, Gods, please go away and never come back.
As natterings and chatterings of tutees and tutors
Shatter the silky silence of budding nurseries,
Where friendship and hate are wedded couples,
Where undulating rituals fail to set their foot...
Don’t bring the evening spreads of
Chubas, albs, or kimonos.
Oh, Gods, please go away and never come back.
As clamps and forceps clatter in sync
While nursing pain and tending wounds,
Where nurses know the names of germs
More than the carriers bearing them—
Don’t bring the dying embers of
Rosaries, rudrakshas, or karas.
Oh, Gods, please go away and never come back.
As silent shuffling of paper dances
Spreading rays of words and newborn ideas,
Where yesterday’s crumbling glows are kept
In silver lines of ancient papyrus—
Don’t bring the rust-rimmed rattles of
Christians, Muslims, or Hindus.
Oh, Gods, please go away and never come back.
Then I’ll raise a golden palace
In the vacant land of my emptied heart;
I will bring the paradise within,
Where only truth and hope prevail.
Come with all your might and height,
And baptize me in your holy grail.
Oh, God—please come back, and stay within me.
When he speaks
transparently
he feels co-passionate
as long as s/he appears
to vulnerably listen
Without Me v We risks
of retributive judgment,
body shaming
and mind blaming,
when he aims
to restore healthy cultures
and wealthy climates of peace
through win/win reassessment
Which may be why
music feels safer to sing
resonantly
when compassionate audiences dance
engaging pleasure's peak resilience
Co-empathic brilliance
of CommonSensed communion rituals
Wealth-enlightened minds
empowering health-embodied love stories
NaturalRoot/SpiritualCrown
wisdom recirculations
as old as
universal salvation
Anthro-passion cultures
unfolding/refolding
unitarian co-redemptive
Earth-pleasured body climates,
wealthy mindful singing
performance Now
within healthy bodies dancing
co-engagement Here
Receiving in
light's notations
while thrusting out
power's most sacred
invocations.
Used to be sex scandals..Treason spys betrayal lies
Did some wear suits and sandals? But why
Digress? We see no less..indeed such retrograde
Examples..And regression; there is no
Suppression of avatistic, evil actions death
Is a (great industry) s r a..Rituals of a low-rachy..Genocide wars collide.' Who can make the biggest gain.? Laud that nation
Sedate its citizens again..desensitize dis-harmonize.' Deifiy and demonize.' Play the chords dim the lights.' Then Bathe in blood
Is that your delight.? It pays to kill, are the innocents better.? In your estimation.? I mean? Is it a higher pay
grade getter..? I hear
The grinding of many gears.' The rash apportion.' The play on fear..To kill the elders.' Was just a sop to the crowd whose morals you frayed..? Or shredded morelike; zouds.! And here we see the basest tricks.'
Exposed despised..Example Scandle ectremely 'Sic'
Wysocki’s world always feels like a place paused in time,
and here the old house rises with its many angles~
gable stacked upon gable
like thoughts a century deep.
The clapboard walls hold the color of weathered memory,
a soft, seasoned brown
that seems to remember every storm
and every quiet morning after.
Windows watch from every direction,
small square eyes
that have seen too many seasons
to be surprised by anything now.
A cat sits on the fence
as if appointed guardian of the view,
tail curled in the calm certainty
that nothing important escapes its notice.
The yard is tidy in that Wysocki way~
grass trimmed, path swept,
a place where time moves slowly enough
for chores to feel like rituals.
Standing in front of it
I sense a rush of stories
that never needed telling~
a house content to keep its history
folded into wood and windowlight.
The house feels like a pause in time,
a place where the wandering mind
can rest a moment
and imagine the lives still echoing inside.
Is this mask a permanant shade
on which a new world order being built
it does make me timid to step out
I miss the smell of raw earth of the first rain.
fear of the unseen always haunted me
now it's verified that fear is real
did some one plant it or just evolved
both ways, Covid just keep us distance apart .
it wasn't long that I felt 'me' not in queue
until the next door man died and exhumed in stealth
kids, wife , parents all had that hollow looks ,
of fear if the unseen has entered our house,
desperately searching stock of sanitizer ,
a random deeper breath around makes us shiver .
Many experts were born on SM on the subject
people accepting anything like gospel truth
the evil planners must have their ugly smiles
since they achieved what they willed,
confusion, fear, surrender and obedience.
it's power, control and money they aim.
2000 years before we saw the same
when the rich priestly clan frightened men
of sins , rituals and punishments
That was the time the Saviour was born,
to forgive , purify and reform .
Will He come again this second time now
or is there a long oppression before His arrival ?