Long Schisms Poems
Long Schisms Poems. Below are the most popular long Schisms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Schisms poems by poem length and keyword.
Believing that marriage was ordained of God;
that, like a seed, it needed constant nurturing,
she sowed her deep devotion with a hope
that stretched beyond an ordinary scope;
scanned schisms that had left her desolate-
until it reached the heavens with her prayers.
With unusual restraint, she held her tongue
countless times. . . and listened.
If matrimony were the fire in a hearth,
she supplied the kindling and the logs;
then lauded him for twigs
that on occasion he tossed in.
Some nights she’d lay a weary head
upon the chest of one she called her husband
(when he was fast asleep and didn’t know).
and she'd feel the beat of a heart he wouldn’t show.
With humbleness she supplicated God
that she might find connection with her mate.
She wondered and she wondered why. . .
if thoughts, invisible, which were transmitted
to the Lord, by Him were then received,
why could not her words directly spoken
to the one on earth she loved, be heard?
Daily on her knees, she telegraphed celestially
with faith extraordinary. . . and wisdom came.
Her love would not be broken, and she grew.
The seed she’d planted too
took root and grew until there came a time. . .
she laid a greying head upon the chest
of one that was her husband(not in word alone),
who watched her as she drifted off to sleep.
With his heartbeat strong in her ear,
she heard him whisper softly, “I love you”
as he kissed her cheek. “Goodnight.”
For the contest FAITH/ sponsored by A Rambling Poet
Ah the schism, the gap...
the once electrically charged space that now,
seems to hold only hollowness
like a wicker effigy… before the offerings have been placed
before the lamb as been brought to slaughter.
The line between sanity and insanity blurrs
water on glass.
Laughter has never been a recourse
not for me…taunting a perpetual bridegroom
no release from sleepless nights but tears.
What soothes my "weary wrinkled soul"
naught but tears.
Hold back the anger the misused fuel of fools.
Waylay the rampant strands of kinder thoughts
feed the seedling of understanding
pity the blighted hearts.
There can be no groom for the withered crone
for time has come and wisdom was the choice
life the sparkling firmament has reclaimed
for your words ... your thoughts
have oft called to me at night.
Lady of the Lake ! dualism incarnate
I await your keen Sword of Truth
to pointedly give life to mine deflate
Powers alpha to omega you shine
a full moon gazes, opening floodgates
self-sufficient you rise expanded
from depths unknown impersonal
my portals are unfastened
Lady of the Lake ! fertile and clear
I hear your echoes eerily dear
call flawlessly circling like bait
silvery skin scintillating prepared
I sit on my throne casting away
shadows, warriors waiting instructions
as enemies encroach our land
Lady of the Lake ! balanced and stable
tresses of black beauty no fable
flow into waters protective, no fear
darkened in cobalt blue charming
in visions profound alarming lies
sought answers to my kingship
threatened, your flowing rhythm
a magnetic prism for field schisms
Lady of the Lake ! logic and reason
galaxies glitter gloriously in your season
upon your crown intellect sparkles
as mists of Avalon surround ethereal
framed by cypresses devout
my eyes aflame imperial to
but be tamed by yours arterial
Lady of the Lake ! epitome of
self-sufficient confidence
I cannot govern this kingdom
of mine without your guiding Grace
and Sword of Ace ~
my own Excalibur lies inert
awaiting your minute magical touch
a hush of lake lush, Love spiritualised
activating my solar spleen sweet
from your sacral springs I glean
Lady of the Lake ! my mythical
extension ! send your nuanced
breath with ripples of midnight
frequencies that it may light my
spurs with ease, legacies of
Arthurian courage to conquer
once more with ease
Leave me not forlorn to compromise
bereft of your naked waters wise
I wait your one pointed steady steel
my portals unfastened ________
YOU CAN'T COMPETE WITH A TRUE OBSESSION,
IN MY PRESENCE I WILL HAVE NO AFFECTION.
TRUE HAT SWAG WILL BE YOUR LESSON
PLEASE TAKE NOTES, COURTS IN
SESSION. LOVING HAT LANGUAGE,
ITS MY UNIQUE EXPRESSION
COMMONERS, YOU ARE LOOKING AT PERFECTION.
A LIVING LEGEND, WITH NO SUCCESSION
CAN'T CONTROL MY AMBITION
MY HATISM HAS ONLY RISEN.
I JUST HAD TO SHARE SOME WISDOM
YOUR STYLE HAS YOU IN PRISON
CUT YOUR FRIENDS AND JUST LISTEN
DROPPING KNOWLEDGE AND THEN SOME
NO NEED TO BE FEARSOME
STANDING STRONG WITH NO ADDITIONS
MY HATISM HAS ONLY RISEN!!!
TIK, TIK, TIK TIK TOK,
IT'S MY DESTINY AND I RULE THE CLOCK
FOUR GENERATIONS CONNECTED TO THIS RHYTHM
UNIQUE FLAVOR AND SPECIAL SAUCE,
RECOGNIZE WHO'S THE BOSS
HAVING NO SCHISMS OR NO PRISMS
MY HATISM HAS ONLY RISEN!!
I once wrote a POTW, getting to know you, was the theme
Simple little rhyme, about soupers commonalities it seems
Now I’m discovering disparity, divisions, different schisms
Joining the dots together, one picture emerges, extremism
A few (leading lights), have gathered sheep into their pens
Who in turn follow them blindly, to anywhere and back again
None of my business you say, and I would be first to agree
But our paths must cross sometimes, as now you can see
Such is lies, such is truth, it’s all immaterial within a poem
A story is a story, our imagination counts, on bringing home
I manipulate words, trying to imbue you within stark verse
Encouraging open-mindedness, never planning to coerce
Others have hidden agendas, encoding influences of ambition
Deluded in their own self importance, to maintain recognition
Suppressing freethinkers, using propaganda, covert pretexts
Don’t like the tone of your language, get shunned by request
Teach us a lesson, an opinionated authority, waves a big stick
Seen this crap before in institutions, got caned as a small kid
Gaslighting, solipsistic, narcissistic, torchbearers of nothing
Pushing your own egos, not poets work, shameless plugging
Some fellow poets do fall foul, getting led up the garden path
Instead of expressing independence, write to appease wrath
So this message is from a nobody, and I’m calling you to task
Why! because I have a pair of balls, not satan behind a mask.
This is no exposé, majority of soupers, see through your cover
Easy now, I won’t mention any names, best ignore this nutter
I proffer diversity and conversation, no nihilistic atheist stray
Unlike his predecessors, won’t get disheartened or walk away
Look at history what happened, when pandering to dictators
Carrying swastikas in suicidal obedience, to Hitler their savior.
I’m not trying to tempt your faith,
write about god write about man,
But when man believes he’s god,
Yeah! we’ve already lost the plan
And for that habitual poltergeist
that keeps messing up comments
Are you trying to tell me something
or just afraid of the open contents
By
David Kavanagh
But Freud could not vouch
For one lying on his couch
It’s God, our mind’s He unlocks
To wrestle with this paradox
This ambivalence
For the world fixes stints
For lungs that need air
For a heart needs repair
This is what we’re left with
No life, just a death kiss
At atheistic insistence
And with ambivalent resistance
There’s prejudicial conjecture
There’s personal conjecture
But no absolute or objective truth
You don’t need to be a sleuth
With subjectivity solicited
Two intellectual sins committed
Arbitrariness and inconsistency
Condition critical insistency
Circumspectly we point this out
Without a doubt, we don’t flout
Compare two worldviews
(as atheist’s hit the snooze)
We share the Gospel with the hostel
With no subterfuge or solipsism
No false religion’s systems or schisms
The 2nd Coming will be the loudest day
The trumpet sounds, the saintly strain
Will w/Jesus comeback with no foray
The final stop for the Gospel train
I objestigate between arabesques and sleep,
fugaciously spasmodic in fluxes and leaps.
I'm indifferent to the misanthropic mocking,
that welltering inflection that I call plockingism.
It's their cheeky syncopated schisms that I rebut,
and yet they slantathunt for the right to boff.
Well, blanderluse I refuse, so let them scoff!
I derogate their impultritude and arrogance.
Drapple their smirking repudiation of my dance
for they know nothing of the dark decoctions
spating rapidly through my vendacious veins,
nor of the mastacular alter assemblage
of the miscelany grey and white matter in my brain.
The mordant humor of this absurdity
is that I am irrationally rational...
psychotically speaking, perhaps,
I am dripping with percipience
sagaciously intelligent beyond the measure
of those cretins who kvetch, pule, and postulate
their hate. I am strabismic and nonsensical as a loon.
Mayhap writing in this style is as tedious a method
of torture as it would be to dispropart a heart!
After reading this ranting of gelastic absurdity,
it's become mereticiously opaque to me
that my discourse is oxymoronic, OR
I present my ischemic side as a dimwitted addlepate.
I'm a conflagration of animation or maybe I'm just lazy.
I'm not of the artificial intelligence variety,
but there's more than just one kind of crazy.
Vogonese is a language that few will applaud.
I see it as a form of whimsical words, without a reward.
If this is the third worst type of poetry in the world...
keep the first two ridiculous rooskits in sails unfurled!
Insanity is bred in flompous fields of clantigendice clover.
Moreover, before I drop my plasmergent pen on the floor
I find myself crossing the threshold of depravities' door.
*Don't ask for an interpretation. I have no clue.
Squeezed and bequeathed from the schisms of fear
A shibboleth opened as the ground swallowed her void
Final farewells in blood ink cracking inferno and soul
One step from the abyss and the lure of canyon below
Jasmine stumbled to an exquisite conclusion her eyes
Cast lacrimal torrents in wet wild withering streams
Aghast in terminal turmoil and hooked to the cliff face
One bare string attached threadbare shreds by a tether
Currents had run dry but she managed an ultimate drop
To smoothen the voyage and slip into teasing caress
She let go on passionate falls and slipped on what remained
Of one last tear oozing into torn halves of unknown suspense
Jasmin licked her scarred wounds in taste of scary freedom and
Promised herself that holding on was simply not good enough
03rd February 2019
The A to P of Change Procrastination to Adventure
Answers to be found to questions unknown must arise from new
Bold novel beginnings revisions contemplation reflections and prisms
Can manage to challenge unearth previously untrodden pastures
Diminish confusing conflicts depression mood swings all our schisms
Encompass what portrays and enlightens where we once had no clue
Forego all those doubts uncertainties mistrusts dithering divisions
Grafting and crafting embracing in gratitude those many disasters
Heralds art works in person and paper defies discards rephrases indecisions
In faith change and purposive interrogation we might well eschew
Jumbled controversies intercept trapdoors pitfalls mindless perditions
Kaleidoscopic mixed and matching compositions not necessarily faster
Lie within us so obviously they require manifold repertoires of renditions
Much hard work is needed in our strife but reward looms where credit is due
No more of that past nonsense routine inculcated intrusive narrow opposition
Obfuscations of sanity health revival if we desire to become our own master
Perfused with loving kindness honesty less traditional re-calibrated new mission
02nd August 2016-09-01
written in abcb rhyme for
contest Alphabet Soup
I should have grinned when morning came
Atop posts of gaping day, with lunatics
Humming dirges of a broken world.
I remained glued to my gloom.
Rising from the pit of hell, I held
Concupiscent cats hostage.
The course of their waning speed of flight
Harmed my precisions.
From a boanerges' point of view,
Fierce elocution dampened by grey voids of
Unassailable haunts cripple the badinage of
Myths celebrated at dawn's memorial.
I weep through the voice of an alcove's
Muted spirit, one grace, forlorn and dew-wet,
Re-christened at sable-draped ceremonies.
Haunted by such recurring whims of deliberate
Schisms by harridans, I crawl on both knees,
Filching webs atop crests of arachnids.
I should have waved siesta's flag at 3 P.M.
Lush vagaries of new-sprouted greens yield to the
Mockery of phlogiston,
Leaving behind banters from drunken laughters,
Crackles from prostituting fires, meek and ailing,
And hells of sweat from my aching head.