Long Shangri Poems
Long Shangri Poems. Below are the most popular long Shangri by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shangri poems by poem length and keyword.
A Mythical place so far away
That legend has tempted us with for years
So sublime and tranquil
Kissed only by a Rainbows tears
Where Angels roam so freely
And Doves fly through the bright blue sky
Where the Trees and Flowers whisper your name
How do they know both you and I
A peaceful place where love abounds
No hatred can you find there
Where people roam and wander
With nary a single care
Sweet bouquets wisp through the still night air
The Moon a distant night-time glow
Where time is an immemorial fact
The days and nights pass swiftly by
Like paradise in fact
We all search for Shangri-La
It is here with us on earth
Its love and happiness, by another name
So make the most of what its worth
True peace on earth can certainly be found
When you meet that someone with whom, love takes a hold
Shangri-La exists deep inside your heart
A rarity low and to behold
Uninspired, 'tis a search for Shangri-La,
It's much ado, I mean, don't you think so,
All of this bruhaha, just fools would go,
To this La La Land, --no 'tis other La.
Well, if fools have time for frivolous things,
Let it be theirs, not ours, a game of chance,
--It does seem charming, a touch of romance,
Oh no, a fool's errand, what of your bling's.
--What say you, we both got money, let's go,
'Tis a slide of the hands, all done with mirrors,
Pulled out of the hat, it's flawed with errors,
Yet, you are my friend, answer, that you know.
Let us hire some guide, and one from those schools,
--From the universities, a teacher,
I believe they are called professor, --err,
--Now history, and dishwashing, two fools.
2019 September 22
howmanysyllables
16 lines x 10 syllables = a perfect 160 syllables
Yellow lilies in turquoise pots. Smiling happily, smug even.
But as happy as their cocky orange spotted cousins? Maybe not.
Their blue-red dark lily cousins had appeared for the first time this year.
They were outstanding; so remarkable, it was practically embarrassing.
The yard was aglow and alive; more spectacular than she had a right to be.
Showing off in a casual, yet fanciful way, without even trying.
Cardinals, robins, and wrens were gliding in by the dozens,
attracted by the plethora of colors. The feeders were full of course, six in all.
Feeling the love of this Shangri La created out of a piece of God’s country
was every creature in the grass, on the barks of the tree, and under the bushes.
Butterflies, dragonflies, honeybees,
and wasps were preening around the flowers.
And there were five gardens, plenty of spots for everybody.
An older lady in a wide
brimmed hat was collecting bits and pieces of dandelions
to spread around in the
vacant spots. She was the curator of the yard.
The dreamer who had thought this
up twelve years ago, and built it up out of a simple prairie pasture.
She played for hours on her heaven-on-earth, and it showed.
God’s masterpiece, enhanced by one
lone woman and plenty of appreciative creatures.
Did you know that in dreams
and meditation we can journey in a bubble?
I know this sounds outrageous!
But, I often travel by bubble- sparkly, buoyant,
soapy, air pockets to places nirvana,
to Utopia's beyond this Earthly realm.
Beyond the blinking stars,
to fanciful, enchanted places and paradise gardens.
Full of vivid shades and hues of green,
flowing rivers and placid streams, waterfalls and
azure skies and dazzling suns.
And in my mind I linger in this Shangri-La
until reality is calling me . . .
So, I summon my bubble transportation
to carry me home again.
Oh, some may use a magic carpet to go
beyond the stars but I prefer bubbles . . .
Icy blue, glassy bubbles, bubbles, bubbles
as my mode of travel!
________________________________
March 4, 2017
Poetry/Narrative/I Travel By Bubble
Copyright Protected, ID 17- 881-950-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Where are the sleeping giants that never awoke
Where are the dragons that long ago spoked
Were unicorns is common is pretty rainbows
Were Martians living on Mars in droves
Is the Garden of Eden a real earthly place
Is the face of Zeus the one Jesus replaced
Will El Dorado gleam in the rays of sun
Will Shangri-La open her gates to anyone
Are monsters just demons in masquerade
Are angels ever given a paid holiday
Does Atlantis exist within layers of myth
Does Sasquatch know if any Yetis are left
Did a monkey leave his tree to become man
Did a tree in a garden tempt man to be damned
Why do we dream of falling falling down
Why do we curse the earth we are bound
Where are the gods the Greeks used to know
Where are the gods of Egypt and her pharaohs
Why do we speak a million different tongues
Why do we not have the same color for everyone
Was the future the past we've already repeated
Was salvation on a screen we accidently deleted.
Once more, treading the boulevard of dreams
Only the sun's glint on the corroded surface gleams
Shangri La's gate no longer in the distance beams
Steamy, foggy haze around each mile marker streams
Grand plans, lofty designs are buried deep in impermeable seams
Over once solid foundation, thinly-veiled paper reams
But bleary-eyed traveler not only his final destination deems
Sullied road with visions of grandeur, hauteur challenges teems
Once strapping lad, gilded the horizon with fairy tail themes
As fantasizing teen, the world's bounty covetous eyes did esteem
Becoming young adult, with self-patented talents did scheme
Now in ripe old age, seeking only striding memories to redeem
Looking back, the shiny, smooth road no longer appealing seems
From the rough, re-finished surface, golden dreams no longer scream
The poppies, marigolds, and lilies shone like jewels
This unclaimed field was nirvana and Shangri-lah to Dorothy
She had found it on one of her excursions away from the house
The luxury of being alone, listening to the whispers of nature!
She felt a kinship to the monarch butterflies and honey bees.
The dragonflies and damselflies made themselves comfortable.
Sometimes landing on her shoulders. Mayfly landed on her hand once.
There is a fox here today; she has seen two of her kits. They are hiding now.
A magical mystical place, painted by God in one of his happy moments.
She can feel the joy. The prettiness astounds her. She smells lilacs.
There is lavender too, a small voice whispers. A fairy? Elf? Gnome?
Nothing would surprise her. She opens her eyes, but no one is there.
I just hear bugles i just hear trumpets and horns
I am the fool a slayer of rule an androgynous clone of make believe
thought a trance, sometimes not knowing what's real as free a rational ability
I have barely cried and yet cry more everyday for the equinox of tyranny and hate
selflessness and greed, A story of Kuwan-Yin
were you the mind or the body or neither, or have you gone too fast around that bend and
do you have answers that don't end
he is not of this earth as sin does fine within a wreckless statesmen's stride,one left for homi
right for sui's, putting it all on the Ritz
fat crackers on paper plates and moving cars where there ought to be people
our savior will not be driving a beam-er
balls crushed by these crippling cars, from my first cigarette to my car stereo
aways thinking she's my girl. I'm sure i was a taxi, with loneliness my meter
look the hundreds we save foregoing the gas pumps and those
no duty fags that bust your ass
the privilege to put money into a bad deal until someone buries you at the wheel like a good
captain you go down with your hero's grip ,down with your ship
look at those campers who like nothing better than plug in they're bug zapper and radios, we
plug our brain into some machine, that spits us out in search of gold
drowned this system from it's consuming desert
decide what time forgot, before we 1st decided life was more and we have less
and lesser chance to strike, let's split on a cheap camel, it'll carry your gold
we grab what life throws, and now it takes to prolong a species cause. It knows a life so
brutally evolved, our memory could succeed where others failed,
but one, frankly it had to start with a mom a manger was as pod and the wisemen robots
Next freedom coordinate, proximity build 1
My length of walk?
From origin as work
Defines energy in momentum
Obstruction is capable mathematics from here
On in to the document
As sun crests new yorks harbor
In California I awaken to writing, publishing
Shower of body is not reachable
Nor the causeway of commerce
Food procurement
The framers cannot be gained by days end
Patterning a fold....this is that budget measure
Finish map with lifeline tent
Proximity build 1
Copyright © kevin mathenia | Year Posted 2025
What document is, is property title declaration
Cannot assert pre fraud rights to persons
collected from fraud rulings
As will allowed resignation letters and speech
I retain my liberties
Exchange of documents in error
Creates bribery and non resolvable conflict
In exchange of rights.
New transitional living document for intake
Cannot be drawn from singular unit budget measure
No access authorization will be drawn from operator error
[email protected]
Having signed the law pre fraud
I will re draft my document myself
Published
I was given the Shangri la template lease
for two years pre fraud
Addition of coordinate to point(s)
Coordinator points
Mobile mailbox assignment
Postage is in fraud trail review of co conspirators
Not my publishing
One coordinate jam in thousand oaks, no tranquility
Operating wifi device currently
One homekey building down here
One worse in Ventura
Oxnard mid build
Caught legislating?
Complaint has been made concerning money given to fix homeless
Undisclosed amount
Amount may be written off against non profit forms
Never and always a resolute alternative to a fold
Bothersome appointee
Maintains ahead of the generals adjourning?
Best wishes,
Allison Weis, James Desio and Ryan Vogt
Greetings!
Thank you so much for submitting
your letter to The Washington Post
— Chicago Tribune opinion team
2107 characters left
These messages are being captured and archived in compliance with the Presidential Records Act or the Federal Records Act
Thank you again for sharing your feedback and helping us shape California's future.
Sincerely,
Governor Gavin Newsom
Kiwi Cricket's Shangri La...
"Can still hear the deafening din of the Indian crowd chagrin.
Stunned shell shocked silence at mandarins' sins.
Yet somehow still so loud
Like thunder down under in the proud
Land of the long white cloud.
Daring to dream of derring do plunder.
Upsets’ unctuous umami.
Shocks’ sumptuous serendipity.
Cast asunder as against the odds.
Hallowed Gods' anguished..felled & fallowed.
Kiwis vanquished the voodoo of Indian home hoodoo.
This purple patch, so perversely plush...got a hunch.
Would make even Prince blush, proud as ribena punch.
Sporting nirvanas cavorting with crepuscular career nadirs.
Can’t pillory this Test expedition, like the Everest conquest & Hillary.
Black cap sedition…Indian perdition.
Tradition debunked by spunky funk.
Not once, not twice but thrice.
Teeming..awash with gleaming beaming white.
Emancipation...damnation & salvation.
The Indian’s cardinal sin…not being able to play spin.
No way you can naysay.. just
Another Bill Murray Groundhog day.
As we learned..the underdog winner.. we yearned had turned.
Fat cats burned & stats spurned..into a dog's dinner."