Long Sinew Poems
Long Sinew Poems. Below are the most popular long Sinew by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sinew poems by poem length and keyword.
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“What if life is a lucid dream
Borne by thoughts we ourself did stream
Wherein our designated role
Is to dance atop love’s moonbeam”
A new sunrise is born with love's advent
Binding every heart, throbbing every sinew
Filling every hollow, silencing every sigh
Making the earth fresh as morning dew.
When love overpowers every heart,
A new world is born free of all strife
With glossy dreams borne of our own thoughts,
Rendering a fresh glow to the whole of life.
Love is the song that make us twirl in joy.
With it, the universe gets woven in endless grace.
It is a force that overcomes every defeatist thought.
Love shall eternally burn, illumining every space.
May love weave, its mesmerizing rhythm
And let’s dance atop love’s moon beam.
As an Epiphany dawns, ride the crest of a wave
Cradled in the folds of a new hope, a new dream!
The pumpkin head is scorched and black, the moon a sliver thin, A freezing breath against the glass, and fear that pools within. The hall is draped in shadow-silk, a cold that grips the throat, And there it stands, the Red Door's block, the horror I denote.
They said the things that scratch the wood are just the wind and rain; But I can hear the heavy shift, the sound of breaking chain. I press my ear against the paint, a velvet, bloody sheen, And know the teeth awaiting me are wicked, sharp, and keen.
A whisper slides beneath the crack—it isn't just a sound; It's damp and low, like something dragged across the frosted ground. Then slowly, with a grinding groan, the latch begins to rise, Revealing not the empty dark, but four familiar eyes.
The shapes that lurch into the light are blurred with claw and fur, A nightmare made of sinew and the sounds of what they were. A creature with my father’s bulk, its snout a hungry tear, And one that smells of Mother’s scent, now dripping with my fear.
The masks are shed, the final lie, the greasepaint and the dread, It isn't that they dressed as ghouls; the ghouls are who they bred. The monsters are the family who taught me how to pray, And the Red Door closed with a heavy slam, locking my world away.
I learned on this unholy night, the lesson stark and grim: The things you fear in every shadow are the love you have for him. They didn't hide the truth outside; they hid the truth in me. And now I wear the terror they unleashed for all to see.
I look upon your remarkable frame
and marvel that you started out
of no acclaim,
a tiny clump of cells en route
to where you are, ignited by life’s flame.
In truth, a mystery to contemplate
how all the parts get sorted out,
without a doubt,
the most amazing aspect of this little game.
For surely God must find delight
in works performed well out of sight
of eye of mortal man,
dividing sinew, marrow, bone
in full accordance with the plan,
the outcome known to Him and Him alone.
And who am I, a fault to find,
or declare right
the formulations of this great and wondrous mind?
No, I will fall upon my knees and praise
your gentle shepherd, baby goat,
for He who plays
at such a game is not remote,
but has drawn near and given us a name
by which to call upon,
for ever on,
creator of us two, alike but not the same.
Passion never spent, a touch of diaphanous breeze embraces me, as your sinew envelops my heart, like the caress of a Mother for her newborn. Whisper your songs to my soul. From childhood, I heard your call.
whispers
on gentle winds
two hearts
Safety, sentinel strong; earth child’s embrace, soft of wisp and bold of face. My timeless sage in unyielding watch; a trusted guardian, decades old; timeworn teacher from my youth. I revisit your embrace, like a cloak of security for my tortured soul.
leaves
rustling in a breeze
wisdom bestowed
Arthritic limbs and digits ache from the frigidity of endless seasons and I sit beneath you for comfort from my suffering; forgive my insolence, elder one. My heart bleeds for you, my friend. Though lightning’s seared your digits black, you remain vigilant against the raging tempests which disrupt our earthly lives.
gnarled branches
reveal a life story
perseverance
Half-dressed trees
dance in an April wind-shuffle.
New buds learn how to shake
raindrops off.
Winter’s skeletal joints
are a lightly applied moss green,
a mild mannered climate
now simmering bark and branch.
To jump right into the heat of summer
would be a greenhorn maneuver,
March’s wayward proclivities
may have yet more to say.
Spring steps slowly into a newly-lit ring
testing for sink-holes in a blue tinted sky.
Many are recovering, convalescing,
mending the torn tissue,
patching up ice-bitten dreams.
Today a nursing breeze foretells of fat fields,
of less demanding times,
of harvests and an fruiting glut.
Time to break the frosted walking stick,
to rise up in the rosy cheek and sinew -
tell the lazy cat on the warming step
to go catch the coming sun
and bring it home.
Sound of sea is locked within seashell beached
Just lift a shell to your ear to hear sea sigh.
Morn is locked within dawns red sky horizon
Like flower bud bursts into daybreak.
Sap and sinew of living tree trunk
Is locking within its wood when cut and dried.
Knitters love and enterprise is purled into garments
Finger strokes coiled and entwined, locked within.
Photos frozen, snap shots, shuttered images frozen
Have memories locked within, auras that come to life when images viewed.
Locked within a diamond is flash of light and sparkles bright
Like a star it twinkles its light and shimmers at night.
Locked within a pebble on bed of stream are the clunks and thuds
That have ground it smooth during its passage downstream.
Locked within love locks padlocked to bridge
Is the hope that love locked up, cannot escape and flee.
For nothing is completely new since the big bang exploded
All things solid and spiritual have their birth and legacy locked within.
The threads of time's passage coiled and entwined
Locked within all matter until the end of time.
Everything has some within in tidbits locked inside
'Tis the within of things in lockets.
Bilocation – 2-11-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bilocation
Love
Slips through labyrinths of tangled spirits
Complexities and conundrums of misdirection
Released by prophecy,
Like clairvoyant fingers of misty sunshine
in two planes
sharing one minute.
Love reaches beyond boundaries of fluttering flesh -
A bridge point of lyric pointillism
With the rhythmic respirations of one breath
Inhaled,
Exhaled,
In poetic unison.
Love exists
Beyond mortality of bone and sinew,
Not begging for crumbs
At the prophesied banquet
The festival
That rains clear jubilees
On every exuberant heart
Reveling in its ecumenical caress
Wrapping cells, bound in time,
With never aging,
Time released,
Pulsing plasmas.
Love dissolves membranes
In transdermal hands of blessing
Showering polka dots of zest
On the skin of souls
Transfusing showers of tenderness,
Ardor
And affection
Into ever borning present – never past –
Seeds
Planted like ephemeral timeless sunlight
Without minutes
Or astral lines
Love
Leaves permanent footprints
All at once
And
Everywhere.
It was a gift from one I loved so dearly,
wrapped in golden foil and tied with a bow,
a perfume vial, nay, joy bottled up in cut glass.
When I applied it on me for the first time, it was heaven.
Its smell clung to every pore of my skin, dug deep into every sinew of me…
a smell I loved so dearly, the smell that tickled my nostrils.
The same was the scent, that permeated from him,
It graced every room and every corner he went.
It lingered in the air, making his presence felt even after he left.
Whenever I applied it on me, I could feel him close.
Not sure, when a crack fell on our cemented relationship
Silence began hanging heavy between us, his calls grew less frequent.
Days stretched in deepening silence and he stopped visiting me.
I no longer had the mood to use the perfume any more
and kept the bottle away, a souvenir of the love we had.
Now it stays on the mantelpiece-
a sad reminder of the scent that once ensnared me!
Whenever someone opens it, the fragrance spills out.
Breathing in that luscious aroma, a nostalgic fever
rushes over, flooding my mind like a river in spate.
Zoom meetings can be educational
giving you the chance to
meet people with exceptional
verses like you
Each person takes their time to read aloud
words written from their heart
enraptured in a tented shroud
steeped in the art
The poetics of your soul soon take aim
and give the reader joy
it may not bring you sudden fame
but you'll enjoy
the company of those who love like you
the gentle words that cling
like vines upon your soul's sinew
you link, they bring....
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Writing Challenge -
December 28, 2022.
Krakatoa Kritic #007
Let those comment who kill with soft words when they ‘get’ you!
Should we hold praise hostage, retreat when we can’t see
reciprocal giftings that laud what we write in return?
My take’s yours if you like it, still yours if you don’t, but
a gift I hope serves you! My joy’s to encourage,
not harm. This might be the sole poem I post here (1), that’s fine!
Let all praise what we glean, words hearts join with mind’s sinew
praise noticed or not as you pass, whistle ‘Dixie,’
fly all flags half-mast! Share your muse though I freeze, melt, or burn:
blow my top at poor rhymes, curse free verse! Friend, inhabit
your prose, don't let rhythm and rhyme be a bandage
that grafts a snake’s tail on a mouse! Sing! Canary in mine!
The “One and Only” Krakatoa Kritic #007
(1) By here, I mean on this ‘Krakatoa Kritic #007’ site. I will continue to post poems under my actual name. I will try to respond to all questions about any review. I will not review others' work on request but seek to reward those I see contributing to others' growth, whose poems and whose comments appeal to me.
PS: I have published quite a few poems on PoetrySoup now! And I’m grateful to all readers if they comment or not! I think, however, that numbered, anonymous comments that only PS could identify the author of would be a significant improvement to PoetrySoup’s much-appreciated site! Members can already delete any comment that offends them! In this spirit, look for comments from me, ‘Krakatoa Kritic #007,’ on this site, on your poem! All payments/bribes are acceptable but will not get you nothing though I am a gold-medal receiver. A more loving, healthy community is my primary goal. I will post my reviews of all poems on both PoemHunter and PoetrySoup. I hope this will increase your poem's readership, and draw new readers to poets on both sites.
Comments might be more efficacious if it was impossible to construe them to be solicitations to read the commenter’s poetry (on both PoemHunter and PS). There is enough false praise in the world.
I do not claim to have the ear of God! The poems and comments I offer on this site are my suggestions, hoping to help both sites to become even better servants of poetic expression. InshAllah!