Long Signalling Poems
Long Signalling Poems. Below are the most popular long Signalling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Signalling poems by poem length and keyword.
From any time, anywhere,
to all the time, everywhere,
bliss mists within manifest,
signalling we’re truly blest.
We’ve journeyed beyond the book
and say scriptures were mistook,
on how kundalini moves,
in the manner God approves.
Humble is our gratitude
and playful our attitude,
that presence with silence yoked,
fire of magnetism is stoked.
Whilst poised in blissful response,
we slowly metamorphose,
embodying divine light,
breath by breath, by day and night.
With such musings we take stock,
of nodes spirit did unblock,
where we did nothing at all,
yet were graced by a bliss squall.
No metaphors can explain,
how bliss unties ego’s chain,
when synced to the cosmic hum,
the flame of bliss we become.
Dead of the night, when we should be asleep,
for reasons unknown, we are wide awake,
feeling chi slide up our spine like a snake,
readying us for a consciousness leap,
even as soma nectar seeps in deep,
as divine love always does, for love’s sake
and as in rapture, nodes within us shake,
unbound is our joy and yet our eyes weep.
How long we remain thus, we cannot say,
for we’re in a zone beyond space and time,
as resounds within, soundless bliss thunder,
revealing light of Self, as clear as day,
signalling to us, soul’s heavenward climb,
witnessed by presence, in childlike wonder.
The Whisper of Wind
In rustling leaves and howling gales,
The wind speaks in a thousand tales.
Each breeze, a dialect of air,
Indexing seasons, here and there.
The Song of Birds
Sparrow's chirp and eagle's cry,
Their voices painting the sky.
Consciously creating their refrain,
Identity in each sweet strain.
The Murmur of Water
From babbling brooks to the ocean's roar,
Water's voice forever more.
Subconsciously signalling its course,
In trickle, ripple, wave, and force.
The Silence of Stone
In craggy peaks and pebbled shores,
Stones speak volumes, though they're poor
In words, we know. Their silent speech
Has depths that language cannot reach.
The Chorus of Forest
Pine and oak in harmony sing,
Their branches are a linguistic string.
Diversity in every tree, A lesson in identity.
The Echo of Humanity
And we, amidst this natural song,
Find our voices, weak or strong.
"Use your voice," the wild implores,
"Like wind through reeds or waves on shores."
The Symphony of Life
For in this grand, inclusive space,
Every voice can find its place.
From "y'all" to "OMG," we bring
Our part in life's great offering.
The Resonance of Inclusivity
So let your accent shine out clearly,
Your dialect has beauty here.
In nature's linguistic tapestry,
Each thread weaves perfect harmony.
The Eternal Song
Listen close, the message's clear:
In burble, chirp, and human cheer,
Our voices – varied, wild, and free –
Sing life's unending poetry.
Where once verdant rolling highlands...
Spanned into infinite vista
far as these myopic eyes can see
now yellowing Whitmanesque
leaves of grass encompass field of vision.
Nary a dark dreadnaught cloud in sight,
nor unbeknownst if/when threatening storm
looms on horizon slaking parched land
delivering precipitation quenching thirsty terra firma.
I too experience vicarious dehydration
during bonafide dry spell
constituting theoretical string
hoop fully curtails weather beaten
flora and fauna
conceding blindingly bright
cloudless summer days
across disc (sky)
to amply liquidate shriveling assets.
Unbeknownst when spate of rainlessness,
(i.e. I pray for moderate soaking precipitation)
thwarting immediate indications
meteorologically signalling onset
regarding definition of drought.
Nothing more humbling
than cacophonous thunderstorm
nsync with jagged bolts of lightning
accompanying drenching downpour
analogous to downed wall of water
cascading from upper atmosphere
intermittently pelting landscape
albeit immediately, magically, quixotically...
transforming parched land (Highland Manor)
into profuse lusciousness
harkening Edenic denouement.
Impossible mission (this simple bumpkin)
(one local Schwenksville yokel)
(Civil War union soldier incarnate)
to forecast today/tonight
eventide of June twenty fifth
two thousand and twenty,
when Zeus will doctor
animals and plants courtesy
of requisite life source
also known as H2O,
comprising above mentioned
two hydrogen atoms
and one oxygen atom.
Ironic, how approximately
three quarters (seventy five sense)
engulfs planet Earth,
yet many environments
suffer inadequate deluges,
more so now with climate change
(global warming) increasing temperature
across oblate spheroid
compromising habitable places,
yet methinks coronavirus (COVID-19)
gave mother nature
much needed reprieve
cleansing heavily polluted urban areas
courtesy partial lockdown and restraint,
whereby *****sapiens
deterred, jackknifed, prohibited...
spewing noxious forth fossil fuel byproducts
encouraging, mustering,
plying, telecommuting, zooming
avast array of activities
augmented by virtual reality
technology supplanting mass transit,
thus diminishing deadly toxins
absorbed by all creatures
great and small.
Hidden Battle
Explosives echoed in the silence of his room,
Each one signalling his imminent doom,
War had long ceased, yet it still lingered in his head,
His body had healed, yet it was filled with dread.
Like soldiers his memories attacked at night
Leaving him wounded and consumed with fright,
His wife watched on, as war claimed his mind
Taking everything, leaving just his shell behind.
In the depths of the night he batted with his past,
Shutting down questions his concerned wife asked.
Haunted by the smells, sights and encounters he faced
He battled with an enemy that couldn’t be traced
They said war was over when he came back home,
But a new war had started, that he was fighting alone,
A war against the unheard screams,
A war against the blood stained hands,
And a war against PTSD.
The whistle blew, signalling the start of my journey,
Aboard the train, my degree and future bright and blurry.
3000 km to travel, 30 hours to spend,
I settled in, ready for the adventure to begin.
I put my bags down, beneath my seat,
Letting myself rest, my eyes to meet.
But fate had other plans, for I was soon awaked,
By strangers, who in my native language spoke.
They talked to me, and I was all alone,
But their kindness and warmth, I'd soon know.
They gave me sweets and showed me the way,
To pray to Allah, the only merciful, they'd say.
We prayed between the seats, cramped and tight
, But their sincerity, made everything right.
They took me in, and showed me the way,
To Allah, they led me, with love and grace.
They were like angels, sent to guide,
My heart was filled with love, my soul purified.
In that moment, I found my repentance,
Thanks to these strangers, Allah's holy message.
May we all find such moments of grace,
And be led to Allah, in this life's race.
For in the end, it's love and devotion,
That bring us true satisfaction and salvation.
There is something in my life when night comes my mind.
Kundalini ascends,
signalling soul’s intent
to raise it’s consciousness,
by granting love consent,
ensconced in blissfulness.
Kundalini ascends,
as vibrant liquid light,
transmuting nodes within,
in a dance of delight,
with bliss tingling our skin.
Kundalini ascends,
magnetising our form,
centring pristine presence,
whilst drenched by bliss throbs warm,
thus peaking soul’s vibrance.
Kundalini ascends,
aligning our five sheaths,
soul imbibing wisdom,
as blessings God bequeaths,
for within’s His kingdom.
21-May-2022
Notes:
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kundalini
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kosha
This day to celebrate the supreme sacrifice
of the ancient prophet Abraham
This day to ponder and reminisce
that divine substitution of Ismail for a ram!
This Quranic and biblical factual story
shall never diminish in its age-old glory
That superb reliance on and compliance with the will of God
eternally for man to learn from and applaud.
Upon his awesome trust in the unseen, let his kind marvel
and of submission, devotion to God bestow him a laurel
And now for the sake of mutual unity and festivity
first let all of humanity
release their doves of peace
and let them fly freely, unprovoked, unrestrained
with olive branches in their beaks
such that when angels who predicted
forever feuding humans
look down they see instead
6 billion or more two fingers up
in a huge mass of humanity
signalling for and meaning to keep the peace!
But mind you, world peace is to be everybody's goal
so let no one leave space for any loop-hole.
EID GREETINGS everybody.
Silencing thought din in our head,
we shift into our heart instead,
granting strobes of bliss beats consent,
God’s touch about naught can be said.
Being blind, we follow the scent,
our faith held firm, will to God bent,
that soft rhythms of the universe,
words penned, love’s whispers represent.
Without any need to rehearse,
poised in repose we pen a verse,
with each flicker in space portrayed,
that the vast void we may traverse.
God Himself hastens to our aid,
that by mind we be not betrayed,
so therefore choosing to be still,
we sing songs our ego forbade.
Every time we pick up the quill,
auto-writing gives heart a thrill,
signalling we’re with God entwined,
Who makes easy ascent uphill.
I'm thinking of nero..' as i read on (vision zero?) The rhetoric
Seems all burnt-out' like patriotisam.? Must be so many seeds
Of doubt? There's (ground zero) and zero carbon? Maybe a
Link.?? Do we need, a think-athon.? I'm putting it to you.!!
Maybe you'll notice ? Enough to take a look.? See whats
Going on.? Behind the seedy crooks.' Behind (the hope not
Hate) the positive slogans..That outline your fate?? Will you
Comply.? Shall many bend the knee?? Think.? i urge you all.!
On insinuation, on destination, on foreshadowing' upon the
Macarb indications to absorb.' Un-seeng such dark signalling
And virtue-less typology!