Long Sates Poems
Long Sates Poems. Below are the most popular long Sates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sates poems by poem length and keyword.
The pensive piano,
the ominous orchestra;
the gorgeous guitar,
the driving drums.
Deep into my being the songs dig,
the aching and yearning welcome.
I find solace in the solos,
relief in the refrains.
Every beat, every melody, finds a home,
and yet sends me out to find more.
One verse tells me I never need another,
the next reminds me of the perpetual pursuit.
One hymn sates my appetite,
another only builds my thirst.
All command me to sing along,
to tap the rhythm out the best I can.
A harmony takes me back to years ago,
whether I wish it to or not.
Any doubt I ever have of true magic is stolen,
whenever a tune chooses to carry me elsewhere.
The sacred strains,
the beautiful ballads;
the rapturous resonances,
the meaningful measures.
Day and night, I trip time while crossing datelines.
Slicing between stars, my ride purrs with speed turbines.
To Walden’s Pond, I frequently, eagerly go
for chats with my hero, the first hippy, Thoreau.
I journey to philosophize with Abe Lincoln
who inspires me with his profound, wise opinions.
Endless destinations light my fertile, bright mind.
Each person or place, my traveling ways will find.
I do not believe God, my Father, is bitter
that I trekked far to kill a real young Hitler.
I rushed my yell to tell Native Americans,
unite tribe might to defeat white-greed veterans.
That past and future melds are firm in my grip,
I take no suitcase for private day travel trips.
Seeing John Lennon sates my rock n’ roll dream whim -
always I bring warning attempts to leave with him.
With sway, I journey to stay with Helen Keller
And talk of all her accomplishments, so stellar!
Inside my wander-compass, wanderings commune
to gift my roaming feet a light trippy-travel, tune.
To Debbie - A dedication
Yours is the beauty to quench the thirst
of hearts of men, so love-forlorn
The truth of passion, yours alone
and only you can love-reborn.
And many shall flock to you en-masse
with dire a need to love inflame
I too, in hope, shall wait my turn
so strong the urge to feel the same.
The essence of love is all of you
and you, and you, and you, again
You are the true ‘sine qua non’
for love to be a worthy gain
Please gift to me a right to taste
of this good thing the heart creates
Please let me cast a longing gaze
upon the face that loving sates.
(The Fg 81.5.8)
Terrified, the little girl cries
until her grandmother turns wise,
“All God’s creatures want to survive.
I know you love your small garden.
Now watch these workers work magic”
Those stallions with stingers, hover,
tantalizingly tease petals
of the roaring dandelions.
Those golden gals honey’d sunshine,
with fair upturned, xanthous faces.
Not to be outbuzzed, the blush rose,
her loving cup with upraised hands.
“Drink deeply, my love, my nectar
pleasing to my lord. Drink deeply.”
The succulent sensation sates.
“Well, child, a life without seeds won’t
succeed. Pollination is key.
Those bonnie buttercups happy
to see their buzzing friends come by.
Be patient, Daisy, he’s landing.”
9/11/2019
WHERE BUMBLES BOUNCE POETRY CONTEST
SPONSORED BY CRAIG CORNISH
Me and my ol' hoss Dan ain't got no perticler destination.
We saddled up early this mornin' as the sun lit God's Creation!
With my hound dog Spooks breakin' trail we jes' meander along.
What a glorious day to be a-livin' - in my heart dwells a song!
Ah, the solitude! The glorious solitude! It sates my soul with peace!
Above in the pristine Colorady sky flies a skein of Canadian geese!
I pause on a nearby knoll to take in the wondrous scene below,
And see a fawn gambolin' about, anxiously guarded by its doe!
I stop by a crystal stream and turn Dan loose in a meadow to graze.
I fix myself a cup o' joe and lie on the bank to ponder and laze.
While Spooks happily bounds to and fro wherever he wills,
I'm soothed by the water's hymn as over the rocks it spills!
Yonder the grandeur of The Rockies is revealed on this splendid morn!
Heard is the clarion scream of an eagle as it begins its daily bourne!
Gossamer-like mists rise from yon lea revealin'' a rovin' buffalo herd.
From a copse across the way the buglin' of a magnificent elk is heard!
Ol' Spooks nuzzles me as if to say, "Hey pal! Ain't it time we moved on?"
I whistle for Dan - he comes a-trottin' - a handsome sight this pure dawn!
I don't crave riches or a roof over my head - the wide-open spaces is my home!
Terrestrial boundaries or fences don't confine me - freely I choose to roam!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The quiet words that speak to us without sound or saying
That stem from seedlings of open prayer within our heart
Divesting poise of quintessential quietude relaying
Conversation with our inner voice in the language of the sermons art
Cherished truths of mindful wisdom so calm with ease of thought
Prevail within the psalm's revelation rejoicing in knowing
Sighing in rivers placid currents as the gift of repose is sought
With a dowry of tacit grace its kind abundance flowing
The specter of dreams serenely embrace winged hearts above
To sing the score of its air stream bliss of harmony and rapport
Our spirit's dance on a brighter shore that gleams in the light of love
As ethereal music sates our restful core enhancing blithely evermore
Reaching our gate of reason and reverence cures our fears of gloom
For knowing ourselves in its deference is such a wise understanding
Showing heaven's redemption, its sacred sanctuary and hallowed room
In storms of life where cleansing rain brings solitude-our grace commanding
May 3, 2020
Grace and Solitude Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Her beauty does enthrall in morning light
as sunshine paints the sky in hues of pink,
and fare thee well is bid to darkest night;
upon her face the light and beauty sync.
My rose so fresh in early morning air,
with pure delight her essence sates the room
while filling void with splendor that’s so fair,
and sowing seeds of hope for life to bloom.
The aura seen ‘round rose throughout mankind
caused many men to dream, and bards to muse;
led countries into war, and lovers find
the reasons they unite; their lives they fuse.
The heavens gift which all of mankind knows;
the grace and lovely essence of the rose.
"The worst feeling is to be ignored once, then twice,
then again and again by someone you consider precious."
by Betsy Kenton
Life's bittersweet lessons have taught me well
that on the ones we love most, we should dwell.
Not chained or tethered as a master to his slave.
Love, given freely will not yield reason to grieve,
but if neglected, a broken heart will perceive
the bond's been broken and passion it will waive.
Do not express your tender words of devotion
and later tell me you were wrought with emotion.
I'd rather not have known the taste of your lips
if now you ignore me with indifference and neglect.
I'd walk away from you if treated with disrespect,
if what you once felt is in the state of total eclipse.
Love can bring tears of sadness or joy to one's eyes.
To be slighted or snubbed can lead to ardor's demise,
but to be cherished in love's embrace fulfills the need
of nurturing each other as dew sates a flower's thirst.
Being slighted by someone you hold dear is the worst
feeling when the roots wither after planting love's seed.
Ingenious, sin deceives by taking right
and warping slight, its plumb no longer true,
till what seems good to man in dub’ous light
is clear maligned, askance, to be eschewed.
Subtle departure from divine decrees
occurs near unperceived through loosened bounds
on that which God ordains, by small degrees,
till far from what is written one is found.
Confusing Father's love with that which sates,
or, willful, grants the creature more accord
till our Creator it subordinates,
thus we turn gifts to that which is abhorred.
The heart, with sin infected, beyond cure,
seeks evil with each beat; detests the pure.
----------
for the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 3 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written on 04/30/2022
Intimacy
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I held the Sun, Stars and Moon at a distance
till the time your hands touched mine.
Now I am not a feather to be easily detached:
instruct the hurricanes and tornados to observe their limits!
The Mad Moon
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Stars have a habit of showing off,
but the mad moon sojourns in darkness.
Body Language
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Your body’s figures are written in cursive!
How will I read you? Hand me the book!
Insatiable
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
This mighty ocean, so deep and vast!
If it sates my thirst, how long can it last?
Honor
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Achievements may fade but the name sounds strong;
walls may buckle but the roof stays on.
On a pile of corpses a child stands alone
and declares that his family still lives on!
Dust in the Wind
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
This is how I introduce myself to questioners:
Pick up a handful of dust, then blow ...
Dissembler
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
In your eyes this, in your heart that, on your lips something else?
If this is how you are, speak to someone else!
Rumor (M)ill
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I heard rumors my health was bad;
prying people made me ill.
The Vortex
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I am the river whose rapids form a vortex;
You were wise to avoid my banks.
Homebound
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
If people fear what they meet at every turn,
why do they ever leave the house?
Keywords/Tags: Rahat Indori, Urdu, translations, Intimacy, sun, moon, stars, feather, hurricane, tornado, hands, darkness, body, cursive, book, read, ocean, honor, river, banks, vortex, thirst, walls, corpses, dust, wind, family, eyes, heart, lips