Long Rotations Poems
Long Rotations Poems. Below are the most popular long Rotations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rotations poems by poem length and keyword.
No voice is whispered in the void
Explosions inside the nest of stars
Ignite into the operas of the galaxies
Noiseless vacancies full of mysteries
Evolve, remain as vacuous as they are
Space, bridled by the fire balls of debris
To be explored once in the field of vision
That seem to come from nothing
Gone nova moving forward over eons
That follow in the open cosmic sea
Alternate universes yet to be observed
The ones with six dimensions or more
Vacuums pouring out pure particles
Emptying into something still to be determined
Into the unknown as wide as real as motion
To be defined, farther out in space
Farther than the mind can comprehend
Sounds that can't be embraced or heard
Out there, distances between the planets
Is enormous, before and after they are gone
So long measured in the calm before the storm
Reality is not mentioned here or there
Since there is no reference point to find
Too close for comfort as worlds collide
We resolve to change existence while in orbit
Bridged by alternate universes where planets rise
Stars go nova all the time
Elastic in an ocean of provocateurs
In the minus hours of creation
Jagged stones became much smoother
Edges compress in their rotations on
Filled in with shape and form
Earth was born in orbit
Weather forces wear down rocks
One size fits the planet well in gravity
Profound and rounded in ways too hard
To understand or simplify in cosmic terms
Conditions to strange to fathom circumstances
Or describe as fiction from long distances
More ovals on the horizon grow
Escape velocity stretched to the limits
On the elliptic mist where history lives
Rocks expand into the planets heavens
This all happens in split seconds over time
To fall all together from the sky to where we are
In every instant that can be conjectured on
Thought, as reality unfolds back on itself
Where it all began in silent matter conjured up
In the void, there is no noise
Space listens to questions postulated
Over distances filled in by vacancies
Is it not pleasurable to endorse an escalation of elephants using escalators in the tree lined shopping centre? Is it not welcomed the sight of strong strength upon steel rotations? Variable tusk equals variations of moves and downhill the trumpets often sound somewhat obscured. But obscured is not obsolete and obsolete is neither an octagon eating-house or a occurrence of origami playing with the wrappers from the over filled bin. And so the elephants go up and down. Escalating elephants. The leader of this tribe finds the door to power this machine. And adjusts the setting to quick. Then at speed with bags bought and fodder awaiting. Whoosh up and whoosh down. With trunks packed and held tightly to preserve produce bought. In every silver steel there lives a silvery eyed mouse. Whose eeking can be heard across shipping lanes, lakes, shops, towns and cities. Even the darkest angel eagle can say that he or she has heard this cry of rodent. Like eeeeeeekkkk eeeeeeekkkkk repetitive reaching racing ranting remembering really radioactive radical ratios. Ratios are non productive well ironed suits. And bustling around in jams never really was equivalent to swimming nine lengths of tea using a back stroke. Thought the swim suited cockroaches. And that it was said was said and read by the fourteen wisdomatic tree lines, the curvaceously created crescent bushes, the shores of the pies, and the talking table of great magical power. Behold no crystalized pork and mildew bap to a ceiling infested with the breaths of nine ants. And off all went in a balloon. The little cups bursting, the bustling bumpy bouncing buoyant bullfrogs, the bills, the great tall seventeenth century oak tree. Look how far they soar above the trees. Wow. Amazing isn't it? Shall we go eat the biscuit now? Yes. Good. Z Allegiances Z at thirty nine giggling milk bottles jostling and preforming ballet by a door to twelve cartwheeling lambs and carthorses' at a farm event in the meadowland. Xxxx z pinnacle reaches in dark spotted tie. Z
Form:
Why in the World?
I asked myself,
"Why in the world did God create earthquakes and tsunamis?
There is such devastation, tragedy, lost lives, horrific suffering.
And then, I knew.
Long ago, before man populated the earth,
Before men developed metropolitan areas upon the ocean shore,
When mother earth was free to ebb and flow, free to grow.
There were seasons and tides, rotations and revolutions.
Her face was painted in different shades as time progressed.
Upheavals and uplifting, subuctions and cooling took place.
Eons saw her crust and mantel strengthened, altered…recycled.
The ocean waters rinsed the shores rhythmically.
The moon reined its beauty upon the nights and sands drifted.
Pulsating waves washed the shore…cleansing and eroding.
Crushes of elements sank to her ocean floor.
The shore rejoiced in its newness…for a while.
But balance is a key to restoration, a function of recycling.
She quivers; the earth quakes; the ocean regurgitates upon the shore.
Tsunamis return upon the land that which had been washed away.
Regaining equilibrium within the earth’s core.
Forcefully, volatile, crushing, engulfing, and renewing.
Long ago, before man populated the earth, it served her well.
Earthquakes and tsunamis were a blessing to the planet.
A natural renewal process maintaining balances purposefully.
Fulfilling a function…like a hurricane or a tornado.
Perspectives changed when man spread around the earth.
Civilizations developed; populations increased.
Man built upon Mother Nature’s shores to enjoy her beauty.
But the moon still reined her forces.
And the need for balance amid life cycles remained.
Freely we are given that which can be quickly removed.
Our souls cry out for understanding of that which must be.
Balance amid all things: atoms, cells, bodies, systems, planets,
And universes…
© March 13, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Resting it ever-so-gently on her
shoulder, the young girl twirled
the brightly-colored parasol in her hand
and like a child's pinwheel
it became a blur - a joyous
dizzy dance of vivid rainbow shades ...
Bringing the gloomy air around her
(and the wet sidewalk), to gaudy life ...
the rapid rotations spinning the rain off like a
lawn sprinkler - it was THAT sight
that made her think of her sister and warm
summer showers at the farm ...
They'd put bathing suits on
and dance together among the pear trees
pretending they were the precocious "Bennet" sisters
(vying for the attention of Mr Darcy, of course)
soft grass like a chartreuse carpet
under their tender toes ...
Spinning and giggling and
teasing each other in their horribly feigned
British accents ... oh, for just one more of those
carefree country days - life was anything BUT fanciful now -
private school and obligations and over five
years since her sister had passed ...
But, she was with her, still
and this was her kind of day
she would make the most of it, her beloved
sister's umbrella in her grasp - celebrate life itself
and the joyous weep of heaven's happy
tears and perhaps ...
A dance ... in the soft summer rain.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Pick 8, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 6th Place ~ in the "A Rainy Day" Poetry Contest, Sara Kendrick, Judge & Sponsor.
* I chose picture number five *
I wish people would take the time to appreciate details, the way the sun looks in the morning,
the way the trees change color,
the breeze on a cool day,
the way the moon looks at night
Everything is so beautiful yet I feel so trapped
I wish I could become the change in seasons
I wish I could become the stars
The moon
The sun
Just watching as humans go about their circular daily rotations
Everyday is the same
It’s suffocating
I wish people dreamed like I do,
The world would be better if there were more dreamers
I’m so tired of monotony
I want to be one with nature
I feel so connected with it that I cry for it’s cause
I think I can control the rain
Wishful thinking
I’ve always been a wishful thinker in a world made to destroy wishes
I don’t know the people I used to
I wish we were still kids
All we needed was wishful thinking
I wish I was back when everything was new
And undiscovered
And uncharted
And tangible
Back when all I had to worry about was the next adventure
Everyone is growing up too fast
I don’t know them anymore
I don’t know anyone anymore
I wish I didn’t feel like every second is slipping past me
And most of all I wish I didn’t feel guilty about it
I want to find something new
I want to go back when I still loved school
When everything was new
And undiscovered
And uncharted
And tangible
Now I feel like I’m suffocating
I wish I could be in between
I wish I could be new and old,
Wise and whimsy,
Logical and dream
Dream like
Dream bound
Dream made
I am the dreamer
The explorer
And the voyager
Tonight I am weary
But I long for the day my soul goes home
Take me home
All that is not me has me down
I am beaten by all that should keep me
My nose in crackling wrinkle
Like dead toothpaste tube
I can’t see my knees
Eyes are deep in the sockets
The twist of neck kicks the heart hard
Hemoglobin is tough and cold like the
Mazera-Voi rail tracks abandoned by
The classy Jambo Kenya Deluxe
I need a life
A cozy labyrinth
Opening in to a boundless sea
My soul rebels land and its jungles
Noise avenues and beautiful malls
Have my heart full with video
I long for monotony
Of a cloudless heaven
Stretching with abandon
Without a single fold onto Riverside from
Kangemi, I need a flat face of the earth
So that I can see my torn toe nails
without tasking my shoulder blades
to injure flesh that is laden with sleep
I am down
Let me lie
with ashes at my feet
blue saliva cracks my lips
in a struggle to pay homage to tongue
the last man standing, in heydays
he proclaimed peace to mountains
with stones that changed shapes with seasons
the message of peace is better unheard than unheeded
now he lies here with me, just maybe, just maybe
in its rotations, the earth will become flat
I long to see the feet of preachers of peace
Their beautiful shoes make my sight hazy
Glossy shin has blinded the messenger
He knows not when it rains, waterproof wear
Cheats him of seasons
Will he ever know when to sow?
When all that is not him shoves a finger down his nose
The wind will let me know
Meanwhile I sleep till dawn is come
I’m Bruce the goose
And fly with geese
I follow the rules
In forming V’s
And being a goose
Sometimes I lead
Then play caboose
To lessen breeze
Yet I faltered
Their perfect V’s
When I altered
Their masterpiece
I figured we’d
Fly much better
If we proceed
With a new letter
Seen from below
Instead of V’s
Our flight would show
F’s, R’s, or D’s
I got our flock
To fly an H
As the earth gawked
At us on stage
And for our next show
We tried N’s and J’s
But they were all slow
Incurring delays
And since we’re geese
We need distance
But mileage decreased
Every instance
Yet the next night
Deep in slumber
I figured it right:
To fly a number
Numbers are bold
And by those ways
We’ll leave the cold
In half the days
We first picked seven
Thinking it’s lucky
Looking toward heaven
We would be ‘ducky’
No ‘ducky’ for geese
So tried five then nine
But that had to cease
None of them were fine
But being a goose
I knew what to do
And proposed to choose
Four hundred and two
A number that vast
Couldn’t go wrong
We’d fly lightning fast
Direct and strong
We flapped formation
Just like the old V
Made our rotations
And some history
But something went wrong
With some of the geese
Before very long
We weren’t in one piece
The four became five
Some curves went straight
The hundred nosed dived
At too quick a rate
We crashed on a mount
Then found the clue
That geese can’t count
Past the number two
What can you do when you find out that the truth is the truth can you find the searching anywhere to find out God? Can you find out the Almighty unto perfection. It is as high as heaven is high so tell me what can you do with the Almighty the Truth and nothing but the Truth he is deeper than Hell.
What can you know of the measures there of is longer than the Earth and broader than the Sea ! If he cut off and shut down or gather together than who can hinder him can you stop him? You see what you see but he will continue to know vain men he see to see and he will continue to see wickedness performed so don't get made when he considers the moves like chess in the heavens and the earth also must come to understanding the truth is the truth also will not, He consider it? From the earth to the heavenly plane who could fully understand what the measure of our life span can be to us a full measure of time rotations circled around a completed circle crust the land the measure of life span wasted in the blame game on anything to blame? What can you do when all you do even when in the truth revealed fails flickers fan the heat to the flame to meet a vehement fire with that one word is mean? Jealousy defines Jealousy is cruel as the Grave.
A vehement flame of cruel tongue spitting slimy filthy hatred sliding grill into earth like its father the old serpent of ancient times yet to met the beginning the end again what can you do when you find out the truth revealed!
Universes of time, aged stars;
Silent and bright, how they swirl.
Each one lights its own corner of the heavens;
each stands as one body;
serving the universe, alone.
They all reach great heights.
There are no fears here of heights;
no phobias among these stars;
despite them having to stand alone.
Round and round they swirl;
each centrifugal body,
swirling in the heavens.
When people look at the heavens;
they look to great heights;
and peruse those wondrous bodies.
They stare and dream, beneath the stars;
watching them blink and swirl;
each doing their job together, yet alone.
The state of being alone,
up there, in the heavens;
in a constant state of, swirling;
can steer them to those, limitless heights.
Like people, they are travelers, those stars;
little gypsy’s in cosmic light bodies.
With no limbs to impede their bodies;
they travel to other universes, alone.
Each life has its own journey, even a star;
as it travels through the heavens;
it achieves, greater and greater heights;
never looking back, as it swirls.
Like stars, the human mind, with dreams…swirls;
within the mortal body;
Until it too, achieves great heights;
and doing this, very much alone.
Man dreams of rising to heaven;
just like the gypsy stars.
In the end, like dwarfed stars; the human mind will cease its swirl.
In the heights of heaven, there is no mortal body.
No soul is alone, yet without any spin, it achieves those new heights.
Your sensualness illuminates my world of secluded dreams
Conscious thoughts, no longer kept as silent partners of my heart
Allow me to touch the secret depths of your heart
A gentle idea, from our hidden corner of special times
A mystic spectrum unlocks a glowing crystal of our thoughts of mind
Your arms are the safe haven of which I only dreamed
A mile is but a second, when I dream of our next embrace
Boundless ecstacy of passion, trembling, shaking, captivating
Your essence remains long after you are gone
Sweet smell of a senuous aroma, lingering
Your aromatic flavor breezes past my enlightened senses
I'm thrust deep into your warm bundle of love
Rapid beating of hearts, moist palms, as our tongues touched
Caressing your breast softly, gently stroking your thighs
Holding tightly, we squeeze gently, as wet kisses warm the passion
Slow motion, no rush, no hurry, long, loving, careful rotations
Soft hands gripping firmly, your fleshy bottom as passion sways
Trembling limbs, exploding feelings, sheer delight
Bodies twitching, heart beats slowing, minds still wondering
We touched until our desire overrides our anticipation
Temperatures rise as your hips produce a cadence
Being inside the sweetness of your cherished flesh
As, I softly brush your lips with mine, tenderly kissing your lips
Together, our bodies moved with grace and eloquence
Author: Floyd Neal
Date: December 2006
Inspiration: Thoughts and Desires of a new Love