Long Roads Poems
Long Roads Poems. Below are the most popular long Roads by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roads poems by poem length and keyword.
Rare is a mind
Open and free
Feeble patterns obscure
Here at the heart
All roads vanish
Only stillness expounds
Pulse and impulse cloud
Cease vain struggle
Embrace enlightenment
Expose yourself
Embrace a deeper silence
Watch your true self spur
Realise only this:
Peace abides
Still silence primes
To be free
Frame poise with choice
Discern a deeper now
Wise is the man
Who understands
The here and now moment
Be mindful
Meditate on stillness
Let silence enlighten
There is certainty
Just embrace
Fear and uncertainty
Let all woes cease
Let suffering go
Allow stillness to grow
Start with silence
Explore deep stillness
Let needs and wants go
Leon Enriquez
23 Mar 2014
Singapore
something about my life
like white lipstick on darkness
the roads i took are stained with the blood of regret
however i must go on
something about my life
like white lipstick on darkness
the paths i took are flooded with the ocean of my salty tears
however i must go on
something about my life
like white lipstick on darkness
the decisions i made are branded laughingstocks demoted to court jesters
however i must go on
something about my life
like white lipstick on darkness
the results i ended up with are the primary inspiration for many for what NOT to do
however i must go on
Car Trouble
The car started slow to go as cars go
Silent on the ride it motioned down the road
Leaves could be counted on the trees as I passed by
I counted every one just for fun
The pace picked up and time stood still
There was nothing to be done
It seemed a little odd at first
When the car traveled in reverse
And headed off the cliff into the universe
Falling off I screamed and cursed
Maybe the brakes gave out
Way beyond our system solar making many lefts
And when the auto made a sharp turn right
Exceeding light speed passing planets
I realized there were no street signs or people or roads
Everything was calm and normal in the void
A pleasant voyage but I had to wonder why
The Earth removed itself from sight
From my rear view mirror speeding out
I only paid five dollars’ worth of gas
Screaming past the universe unfolding
Collapsing there in front of me and dads jalopy
It seemed curious indeed
Will I make it home for dinner
Will I be late to the dance this evening
And will my parents be angry at me
The air condition stopped working hours ago
There are only foreign stations on the radio
Space ships pulled up next to me
Orange beings questioned why I drive so slow
Creatures with five eyes laughed at me as they rolled by
Silver androids stopped me for conversation
Space police pulled me over for speeding in wrong directions
For going ten thousand miles per second
In a three thousand speeding zone
They issued tickets for space ship violations
For speaking in a foreign tongue
And chewing gum without a license
And for being an alien without alien registration
Also for Improper lights in a speed of light designated zone
They sent me home with just a warning this time
I told them time had stopped
They wrote me up again for that and driving backwards
As I arrived back in time
Mom and pop stopped me on the spot
I forgot to take the trash out so I’m grounded
No more car or dancing with the stars
Like a mad man
without a plan,
slightly insane,
dancing in the rain,
pixilated dreams
like shallow streams,
leave me bemused,
restless, but amused,
but my soul is tried
from those bullets fired,
when loved ones depart,
leaves holes in my heart,
as guns aren't coded,
when locked and loaded.
Those memory lanes,
flying paper planes,
despite grey storms,
we had strong platforms.
I wrote my deep quotes
on lost paper boats,
like a budding rose
nobody knows.
Echoes of my mind
are not always kind,
as crows examine
soul's rainless famine.
This sun never shields
in desolate fields.
Yet, I know it's true,
all roads lead to you.
Anacreontic verse is an Ancient Greek lyrical form, consisting of 20- to 30-line poems with three to five syllables per line. Developed by 6th century B.C. poet Anacreon. A form that emerged during the height of the dramatic, musical,
artistic, and poetic culture. The poems revolved around themes of love, infatuation, revelry, festivals, and observations of everyday life. They do not normally rhyme, but I like the challenge.
Oh Babylon the Great , the Dragon Queen
false religion rides the highway of mankinds being
clothed without visions robes of splendor
conceals the violations of Truth you render
The crown you have gained through war and bloodshed
proof that what lies inside your heart is dead
"let the dead bury the dead" said Jesus in passing
you must leave her roads if you want "Life Everlasting"
Exquisitely adorned on the beast you have saddled
the chalice of blood shed and humanity have addled
you have mesmerized the multitudes Chaldean mystics spell
consumption at your table the poison of the fell
Those who dine and lie with you produced the final generation
those who only love themselves and hatred in every nation
beneath your robes of beauty the acts of carnage you've concealed
but Jehovah by Christ Jesus has them openly revealed
The castles and cathedrals tell the real story
money taken from the poor to memorialize your glory
the histories of the nations and temples where you dwell
illusion of those seeking peace but the ranks of war there swell
You say "I sit a Queen" to the one you've sworn your oath you've lied
you have pandered to the enemy in every action taken side
the jewels you have garnered are those of hardened stone
dust of your desires , exposed your graveyard of dry bone
Mankind likes his "ritual" his "habits" and his "drink"
when immersed in them he doesn't have to think
baptized with the mysteries questions have no answer
intelligence is manipulated by the puppet master
Upon the wings of Dragon, these heights you have flown
but Jesus by "revelation" shows you from the saddle thrown
those who really love the Truth from your chains have fled
they have recognized the corpse of the living dead
if you wish to complete this one it also is too
long for Poetry Soup ....link to complete poem
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Apocalypse 17 & 18
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Two roads diverged ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
And ¦¦¦¦¦ I could not travel both
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ I stood
And looked down one ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
To where it bent ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
Then took the other, ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ perhaps ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
Because it was grassy ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
And ¦¦¦¦ that morning ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
In leaves no step had trodden ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ I kept ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ for another day!
Yet knowing how ¦¦¦ leads on ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
Two roads diverged ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
I ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ traveled by,
And that ¦¦¦ made all the difference.
(Blackout of ) The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost
Although it burns and I now cry,
goodbye my love.
I waited and somewhere along the line,
I lost my world.
For I feel so far from all the roads.
I’m stranded and I’m really cold.
Told, that somewhere it could be warm,
but I’ve been walking and hope’s too old.
See, I’m not that religious at all.
If I died today, in hell I’d fall.
But I recall that I am God’s favorite,
as I dream of him and hear her call.
Sometimes I wish we’d sit and talk,
but I loved too much and loved I’m not.
It seems, can’t find my way.
Maybe the other side isn’t all gray?
Maybe, this one ain’t so bad during the day?
it’s just that I’ve been embraced by night,
for far too long, I’ve went astray.
Meditate.
I’ve prayed.
I’ve fallen to my knees and trusted fate.
With my eyes closed stumbled at a gate,
where nobody they said, will again hear my name.
Elevate.
The people near,
they know how they want to appear.
I hear, as long as all is smiles,
they’d stomp on their heels,
carry on walking
and drown out how they feel.
Though our hearts are of steel,
my one’s corroded, leaking tears.
For it fears to be forgotten,
history kills, the tired and honest.
But it’s all alright.
I wish it was easy, maybe kind.
I maybe thought I could have lived to find.
Though maybe my soul is too far in time,
lost in a universe, bridged by light.
But hey, we lived and we sure did try.
Into the heart of darkness,
Viciousness and despair -
Into the very Tartarus -
Enters the prince of Air.
Ceiling is bleak and starless.
Nobody knows your name.
Inside the heart of darkness
Flickers an open flame.
Everywhere, creeps and scoundrels
Feeding upon the souls.
Under the heart of darkness,
Broken glass and coals.
Think that I might take flight, less
I also burn to death.
But through the heart of darkness
I must create a path.
Something ignites and startles
Amid the sulfur fumes.
Inside the heart of darkness
Torment of souls resumes.
Demons and fiends and gargoyles
Crowd me on every side
As through the heart of darkness
I take a tourist ride.
Skin catches fire and sparkles
And from it pours hot blood.
Within the heart of darkness,
Boiling and ruddy flood.
"Have you lost all your marbles?"
"If I did, would I care?"
Inside the heart of darkness
I can't tell here from there.
Place is unmapped and chartless.
All roads lead to Rome -
That is, to heart of darkness -
And from it rises foam.
Nothing is seen apart; yes,
Mirrors on every wall
Reflect the heart of darkness
At everyone and all.
Evil has many partners
And many a disguise.
Look in the heart of darkness
And train your ears and eyes.
You cannot tell apart us,
Me and the souls on fire.
It burns, the heart of darkness,
Outside, inside, and higher.
Where do I stand or start? Yes,
Write with a piece of chalk
Map of the heart of darkness
Upon a lotus stalk -
Lotus that, like most marvels,
Grows in the thickest mud
And through the heart of darkness
Reaches to heart of God -
There will be no more markers
Upon my path, as I
Burn through the heart of darkness
Into the open sky.
The loss of Sourthern Sons
Submitted by Serendipity on Wed, 2015-04-29 06:28
Today,
wakes to a red dawn punished
and sprayed in the blood of repentance,
compassion had begged in the
before, days turned minutes,
eternity now cradles repented
sons of the Southern Cross
They were more than death,
with courage they leave us
hope erased from the eyes
United over oceans and
long confused with desperation,
the silence of the fall
echoes across the Never Never
they are no more or less,
cloaked in a mantle of darkness,
far from our red dusted roads
and silently still
this mourning rains with
mute cries bled from two families,
agonized with the same torture
In the clarification of shocking
of reality, eyes gaped silence
this grimace of horrified truth moves all
they have taken lost sons found
whole again in confession and prayer
In this act, the numb
cold hand of death
touches us all
evermore cloaks their eyes
as ours are opened with truth
and to this new world bereft
of the gift of compassion
Blown loose from the world,
they asked for the boon of life
pleas from the world were,
Denied clemency !
Denied !
Denied !
Denied !
the empty soul of a foreign despot
raised the paper fist of a mute king,
a retribution of bullets severed
all the ties that bind
The shattering of mothers hearts
kills the light of the sun,
they are forced into infinity
this deed cant be undone
Outrageous power hangs
above our heads,
another world
foreign to true liberty
Sons of the southern cross
rest in the long sleep,
within the grace of home
their souls will find peace
As eternity kisses their lips
and the lilies begin to weep,
know they are there waiting
for us to join them in sleep
RIP - AC and MS 29th April 2015
The story behind this poem ...
http://www.news.com.au/world/breaking-news/bali-nine-pair-executions-set-for-3am/story-e6frfkui-1227325790962
Someone who once loved me dearly
Now despises me.
In such small things are paved the roads to hell.
A turning away from grace.
A tail-spinning stumble down the stairs,
Hitting my head on my lofty ideals
On my mistaken belief in cloud formations.
The death of romance sheds the most morbid shade of grey.
The diminishment of beauty.
The banal stretched over the profound makes a tight drum.
To beat ourselves with.
To the rhythm of the degradation of good true love between a man and a woman.
Nothing works the way it should.
Nothing works out except for death.
My heart has begun beating backwards,
An awkward, syncopated dance of the soul backing into oblivion.
Still unaware that the absence of pain is yet another symptom of impending death.
I am lost within my own mausoleum.
My hoof-steps clopping against the hard marble floor
In between the torn parts of my heart lying strewn about;
Unburied memories of the deepest wounds.
My heart is broken by the shards of paranoia
that spin from a fragile mind.
My curses are my memories distilled from the deepest wells of regret.
Time is but a dancer
But a spinning dancer; nonetheless.
Across a floor of tilting emotions
By which we measure so adamantly our sense of inner self.
I am not my monsters.
But I am the pain that they inflict.
Now falling like rain
On those that I love and those who now despise me.