Long Saturn Poems
Long Saturn Poems. Below are the most popular long Saturn by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Saturn poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: December 10, 2023
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A lengthwise lexicon for fulfilling any fantasy.
Trapped in a landslide and given up by reality,
In this vagrancy, the rocket derives no delight.
Aigrette that unlocks the cosmos for sight.
Admire splendor; the cosmos surely does.
Each display case contains a galaxy in space.
And using the observatory gives me a buzz.
To ponder one light-year with a warm embrace.
Consider the nebula and its wonderful dust.
Melody of oceans and luster of cluster stars.
A struggle amid density and gravity is a must.
Consider the moon many craters and scars.
Meteor motion astonished the asteroid belt.
I do associate this motion with defect finding.
An elegance is retained by a butterfly effect.
Best weighed by sight, not by tech minding.
But the cosmos is still a God-forsaken place.
Since our path is elliptical, it will occur in pace.
Aligned with our current era, perceived as clear.
Saturn rings are still visible to us and appear.
Thinking around inertia drags me toward earth.
With our hands, we can retain our stance worth.
The character is inversely correlated to the tide.
Select a depth beyond which no volition can hide.
A lunar cave sheilded them
from the horrors of radation
there the Moondogs
honed there skills and became
revered by the challenges of nature.
Martain Microbes and
Titan Sulfurnites
the Crystals of a space time Contentioum
filled the area were
the Magnif One
Duplicater wuld build
the first ever Home World vessel
to store the inhabitants of Earth.
Earth a World far, far away!
Earth, there a twinkle in the galaxy.
Earth a place destined t jear the tales
of these Astromic explorors.
Earth there beyond the
the hemishere of the Moon, Mars and the Earth like
moon of Saturn!
They were astronuants in space when
earth was conquered by 55 Cancri e a distant planet in Space!
frustrations and stressful events that gave way
to the spaceship docked above earth.
The camera show
were the astronauts on the moon, Mars and Titan
rallied to join together
and spearhead the
effects to reconcour earth.
The far, far planet earth home to these
earthings.
I travel high through the soaring skies
off this Earth
I leave my worth
and upon my chest
the sun rest I am a phoenix scorn
And pleasantness
my reality is in treatment
a casualty of my emotions Saturn scorn
I've been reborn
of Phoenix rising tall
Throughout the land
no one else can
hold my hand when I'm trembling
caress my soul Spirit folds
I am down yet rising Phoenix going
Temperament emotions feelings bent
take a deep breath
inhale whole exhale trembling chest
Holy Spirit rest expunged
expound exhale Phoenix prize rises high
10/7/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
In our measure of the passing time,
Curious circles fill the counted days—
Numbered moments scarred by transiting light,
The heaven’s moguls bruise our joy and blight,
And give, and take, and measure what we mean.
Time, indifferent, measures us; it loops
Around the heaven’s span and grids the world.
Saturn still stutters—constant sorrow speaks—
Today recedes into tomorrow’s loss;
Yet clocks in circles go, and we pay cost.
O god of time, your circles go and go,
Returning slow, then turning wingèd, fast—
They come, they go—there’s time enough for love.
Meanwhile I scan the horizon with my mind,
And seek the curve of her Belt of Venus—fire—
A circumference of sunset reds that span
The sky; on sight she’s timeless, swaying slow,
A pendulum—its fixed foot steady—rings
My day; her pulse keeps measure as it swings.
And in night’s sanctuary, as we roll
On sweat-slippery fields of red-ochre bliss,
We kiss the kiss that turns and kisses back.
Then, as I watch her breathing come to rest,
Time stops—
and takes my breath away.
Do you remember when you told me that story
of all the Planets in the sky and how they all
had different jobs and had different people they
were in charge of? That Uranus was a magician
and he was friends with all the squirrels and mice
or that Neptune was a mystic and for half a dollar
he could tell me how I’d die and I said that I’d rather
save the half a dollar to buy a gumball and watch
the pink or blue or yellow orb roll down the runway
until it hit the metal door of the dispenser with a clink.
I remember you laughed at that. I remember that your
stories would shrink the miles and the hours down
into manageable parts until the eighteen hour road trip
ended in Des Moines and you said, exhausted,
Saturn was the bringer of Old Age but that you
hypothesized that if we stayed in the car and just
kept driving that Saturn would just get tired
and leave us alone so we packed up and took
the nearest exit for the Yukon Territory. You
looked beautiful then, basking in Saturn’s rage
and you still haven’t aged a damn day.
5:02 AM Eastern Time Monday,
December 21
Location: 2 Highland Manor Drive
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
40.2562° N, 75.4638° W
Daylight 7:21 am – 4:39 pm
9 hours, 18 minutes
Mine circadian rhythm pulsates bright
imperceptible increments of daylight
increase fantasy fanciful heavenly flight
as I imagine myself
Icarus fearlessly gaining height
blindly heading into sunbeam light
strongly advised courtesy experts to travel
toward nearest star at night,
nevertheless unbeknownst plight
awaits me should foolhardiness
skew sense and sensibility right
off kilter yours truly blithely soars
reins of waxed wings held tight.
Plus I, a garden variety generic guy
aging long haired pencil neck geek
who presently wonders why,
rare astronomical phenomena
hashtagged great conjunction doth defy
illusory phenomena whereby,
two largest planets of solar system
Jupiter and Saturn separated in the sky
by and bye
6 arcminutes at their closest point,
which was the closest separation
between the two planets since 1623.
Inhabitants upon solar systems far and wide
will find Earthlings and aliens alike
their curiosity well supplied
out of world event
sponsored courtesy monopolists,
who govern Geico and Nationwide
renown companies insuring property on hillside
made of ticky tack
indirectly, fueled, impacted, and launched
segregation and next of kin apartheid.
Unfair injustice heaped mainly
upon persons of color
playing race card basic rights to win
i.e. those beautiful people
gifted with darker skin
think swarthy complexion.
Hence motive to join reparations committee
(no time to wait)
linkedin with Cherry Hill, New Jersey
Unitarian Fellowship albeit remotely
suddenly aware white privilege,
I (sheepishly admit) ashamedly state
an unspoken mandate
to be positive force and help negate
(at least when I feel better -
yours truly plagued with panic attack)
and help eradicate
white supremacists trumpeting hate.
Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven!
~Lord Byron
The Earth is a flirt saying come visit me,
I’ll share my blue skies, I’ll share my blue seas
though I am quite simple in the cosmos of things,
Saturn my sister has beautiful rings
and Pluto my brother, a mere planetoid,
to be part of your beauty would jump through the void~
Your beauty is majestic beyond any doubt
with glorious galaxies plethora throughout,
while constellations like runes write passage of time
my pitiful men try to decipher the rhyme
to discover the physics when art holds the key~
some things are meant to remain mystery.
"Buddy Breathing"
Ten leagues below
the bed of the ocean in my heart,
strange creatures exist,
they guard the gate
of all things that
have past
the sound of their existence
is strange music for strange creatures,
words are not written, nor are they spoken,
mute hearts bleeding and eyes wide open
masks are worn down here, like soft harlequins
glistening sharp diamonds
they carry forgotten meanings in ever resilient silence,
the trick in the eyes is not to open;
we somehow breathe down here
it’s called buddy breathing.
we try to think of the poetry
in life, remembering the bliss
in our purposeful being,
the oxygen bubbles God bless,
sometimes rise to the surface;
we like to think we are all friends;
some immortalise us
while we die from the bends.
we prayer for miracles
like the 2nd coming
sweet kisses
sharks teeth
colophons
and unblessed
un-nun-like
sisters
Candide Diderot. ‘25
"Swiftly walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear, —
Swift be thy flight!"
(Percy Bysshe Shelley)
****
"I’m blowing further away
This storm is gaining force
Now it’s tripping the waves
How can I test this water
The stars have their say
I shouldn’t admit this but
My heart starts to stray
I’ve tasted white light
Willows weeping
I’ve tasted love songs
Angels sleeping
Fever's breaking
Wild waves
Leaves are raking
I pray to the Saint of all that’s lost
And in the finding curse uncrossed
Wait for the sun to come undone
Signalling me
Out to sea
I’ve tasted Saturn
Seagulls screaming
I’ve tasted shotguns
Apostles dreaming
Fever's breaking
Wild waves
Legs are shaking
I pray to the Saint of all that’s lost
And in the finding curse uncrossed
Wait for the sun to come undone
Signalling me
Out to sea
Out to sea"
(Elysian Fields, "Out to Sea")
They both knew why they were here
and what they were designed to do.
They both were created to provide light.
One, the sun, was to provide the most light
and the other, the moon, was to provide the
lesser light. So the sun was assigned the day,
and the moon was ordered to light up the night.
The two of them would serve the needs of the earth,
providing seasons and keeping the earth with just the right
temperature for survival. This was accomplished by placing
the moon some 240 thousand miles from the earth and the sun
93 million miles from our planet. Our planet earth is the third of eight
planets from the sun after Venus and Mercury. Venus and the earth are similar
in both size and gravity. The earth has one moon, and Jupiter has more than
67 moons. There are more than 200 moons in our solar system and Saturn has 82 of them. There is only one sun in the solar system and its gravity holds
the solar system together keeping everything in its orbit. Without the sun and moon, life in any form would not exist on planet earth. Everything
in the solar system has been set in motion by God, and without His design and dictates, everything would spin out of control into total chaos and into eternal
oblivion. The sun and moon are not accidents but rather, like everything that exists are created, designed, and purposed by Intelligent Design.
052420PSCtest, Sun and Moon, chantelle cook
I saw in her eyes the sallowness of festered love.
My drum had beaten to the resonance of celebration,
Of the deeds of love evaluation.
Her art bemuses me, especially when spoken and
Sketched to the rhythms of assayed hollowness –
Mottled balances echo silently on withered spots,
And the words she cherishes lie way below frontiers of enchantment.
How short my éclat reigned!
And my blood congealed!
Do I lay prostrate to hypoxia?
If I could borrow a leaf from her, I trust it would be the leaf of Love.
And on the edge of skewered times, I would lend the fit of
Pyrokinesis, cauterizing the inclement weather of her deception.
There’s that culture shock which love carries.
It kills and maims, yet lays crusts of veneer on one’s
Premeditated ego, pointing skyward like the finial of
Root-pannelled structure of breathless architecture.
My heart aches to the illusion of several months borne
Through the whim of my angel.
I wake on the brim of her nose.
Her eyes are grey and distant.
Rust besieges her hair with sliced threads of extended harvests.
I level up to her art with a hamster tied to the loose
Slivers of bamboo elements – with a repast so heartlessly
Soured by the sun.
I lean beneath her iron door, long loosened by the courage
Of assembled art.
My heart bleeds.
She lied to me.
As slimy as the mucilage of the okra,
I have shed genuine light of her hidden treasure.
And on a dark, vengeful night on the corridors of April,
Saturn, spinning her icy rings, revealed much.
And her love, deep and garish, traces peregrinations of
A hunter’s search through wooded paths, rain-drenched and musty.
From the shebeen to the sacristy.
The village church bell peals to the beat of my heart – a heart so deceived.
The gloom, structured in gossamer, binds me, haunts me.
Red banners of camwood yield to the moist of invaded space,
Tenebrous, and soused with the tears of a fallen roof.
Flaking tongues of prurient monsters lick my toes in noisy flicks....
God, where have I been?