Long Sleep Poems
Long Sleep Poems. Below are the most popular long Sleep by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sleep poems by poem length and keyword.
Beloved
Close thine eyes, come wistful sleep,
I take thy blessed hand In mine.
Memories of night, thy Soul shalt keep,
of Lover's moon and stars that shine.
On balcony this moonlit night,
thy glory, shalt I hold close to me.
Thy wondrous eyes, that shine so bright,
into mine Soul of Love they see.
As I look on thy temple fair,
on the living sun, that Is thy face.
Before me, beauty is standing there,
a woman's beauty, an Angelic face.
A silver light upon us shines,
as thy face, I cup with my hands.
Tonight, blessed Love Is yours and mines
as before us, Love's dream stands
Upon thy lips, Love's kiss I place,
the sweet divine now stands before me.
Here on earth, this Is Heaven's space,
happy In the moonlight with thee.
Here In praise, mine heart doth sing,
in Love's triumph, Passion doth spring
Now, let our Loving hearts take wing,
let us both share the Love we bring.
We stand on a balcony of Love,
put your hands so gently Into mine.
Come, join with me, In the stars above,
where both our Loving hearts shall shine.
Beloved
Close thine eyes, come wistful sleep,
I take thy blessed hand In mine.
Memories of night, thy Soul shalt keep,
of Lover's moon and stars that shine
Pain is random
Love, just so if it happens
The wall of your fortress it just might crack down
A Knight in shining armour, pretty girl he's got your back now
Because its not a pretty world let me lay the facts out
Evil men prevail but ill lash out and ill act out.
Let the forces of darkness surround me
Let false acts of kindness be brought down here
Never bitter toward you let their strenght be in numbers
And ill let mine be in the Lord and when they sleep and slumber
I'll make a way of escape and they won't even know it
The Princess is really the Queen of my dreams under the cloak of the darkness
Now there been a matter of excitement
go inside the village and you can hear it dicussed there
you feel this energy of shouts coming from the crowd "God is Deliverence"
He fights my enemys or else i am just a sheep for the slaughter
A bossy spirit resides in the clearing see the chopping block
Every best freind of mine is trying to chop mine off
LIke blocks of herbs and posionous spices
And led that is fed to the unsuspecting victim
Like little pieces of glass mesured out and the plans for her lover are exucuted percisely
But he hangs on in love and suffers longer
Now i know its sounds horrible coming from an executer
I pronounce death on you and the ax swings down and the crowd sendsa cheer up
now back then they didnt call it the city
They all knew it by the name of " the kings amusment park"
Now come and bite into this apple
you test every piece of fruit and the way she is dancing makes you feel awful
because you know you seen her put the posion in it
Your like oh well God is the king and treat him accordingly
And i slap it out your hand and tell you, you musnt eat
You foolish man dont you know the king is trying to posion you.
You are acting like your rank will give you stature
Im like dont even make me mad at you
I just save your life and your demanding an explanations
The kings eyes are like daggers gushing into your heart man
Now listen dont stare the Queen Im trying to help you
For Your majesty is consumed with thye spirit of jealousy
Now watch and please observe me
i am not only a knight of the king
I am Gods servant
For Those Who Hold the Field… the Keepers of Resonance
To be used at spoken dedications, at gatherings, at endings,
or where remembering is needed most.
The Salt of the Earth, the Silent
They walk without thunder
They pass without name
They mend what was broken
Before there is blame.
They carry the sorrows
Too quiet to scream
And bury lost hopes
With the roots of a dream.
Their fingers are weathered
Their laughter is low
They speak with their presence
More than they know.
They salt this earth gently
With patience and bread
They stitch back the sky
Where the weeping has bled.
No medals await them
No trumpets, no scrolls
Just children who flourish
And stories made whole.
They hold back the chaos
They balance the rain
They smile at the lightning
And walk through the pain.
___*___
When the towers have crumbled
And empires are done
You will find they still garden
By light of the Sun.
And when asked who saved us
What force held us true
We’ll whisper... The salt of this Earth did
The silent ones knew.
So may we still sleep sound now...
Where the salts settle in
Where even the field pauses…
With dreams rememberin’...
Earth held loving, still, by those who care.
When the silk of night falls upon my skin,
I close my eyes,
unlock the heart of stillness,
as thoughts sleep at the back of my breath,
and wordless light
wakes within the pulse,
a lucid awakening ~
tracing tranquility,
for I am nameless,
undisturbed and untouched,
by the ghosts I once followed,
like jasmine among wild violets,
like lotus among forgotten reeds,
thornless and fragrant,
in sync with the
frequencies of the formless cosmos,
sprinkling stardust
upon my crystalline consciousness,
calming the racing thoughts
that once controlled
the motion of emotions…
O beloved,
feel these feverish fingertips,
forsake the labels hung
across my sky of healing,
as in this mindfulness,
I abandon the emptiness of ego,
to embrace the pristine presence
of hyacinth haze,
the ethereal gaze of your purified aura,
where love and light
moves slowly into
the musicality of meditation…
Tonight, I see beyond the seeing,
and dream within dreams,
to walk through astral ropes
to a place where
there is peace and quietness ~
silence that sings and wraps
this soul in rainbow radiance,
a petrichor of rising rays,
where memory holds no misery,
and the mind homes
the musky mists of clarity,
detached from darkness
erasing the cluttered noise,
and that which dragged my
silhouette to the dusk…
So feel me,
I am the kundalini light
and the magical mirror that
reveals the gossamer glow of gold,
for I seek nothing,
but thoughtless awareness,
sitting in my muted orbit,
like a blooming flower
facing the phases of the moon
with resilience and patience,
silence, my saffron salvation
serenity my sanguine sanctuary,
this zen ~ my zealous zephyr …
"Puzzle Stomped"
Pieces scattered
placed on a table
with boundaries
between
the incarcerated margins
there are strict conditions
Time drips
its wet connection
each piece a stair fitted
imperfectly
perfect
towards upwards
new mirror reflection
a cracked heart piercing
the tear with savage dedication
behind her veil
the known Morpheus assails
her compromised senses
holding her captured
behind the external view
eyes blindfolded
the blue sashes now let loose
opening green windows to
free the redressed vicissitudes
to undress the crisp breeze of her
monk chanting wake
a new phantom arrives caressing secrets
gambled on a fresh Delius
composing his unfinished symphony
he’s looking for her singular notes
Somewhere,
he stands behind her
sharp as a needle,
cutting tall poppy
each step she takes
towards her freedom gate
In his hands he cups
the hidden
missing piece
The sewing of pages
she continues to bind
in her sleep
along a strong spine
turning and folding stories
uncommon ne'er sublime
their spelt magic
grows majestically spoilt
seeded from a sweet perfume
conducting intoxicating notes
stories flying black-winged
off all the slippery knaves
and wax-sealed pages
like ebony feathers
mummerating starlings
turn into suffocating
dream stealing
king crows smiling maces
She the Smythsewer
laying tenuous imprints
for a new road home
He the myth Beyond
shakes the game board
peace in pieces, a long forgotten song
the chance card thrown
the blanket of romance
thundering over a stormy mind grows
patch worked with glassed-in
jarred ghost bees, the old
puzzle of a story stomped on
He places his feet
firmly between hers
closing in on time
Beyond takes her hand
And sensually whispers
along all her fairest fears
sweeping all pieces off her
tattered story board
fallen irretrievable
forgotten
left lacking
on the harsh floor
Cum dederit
dilectis suis somnum,
Ecce haereditas
to the tune of fate
there is so much more
the words are sewn and sung
the child in time fled
long gone, as if all was pure fantasy
destiny arrives supernaturally too soon
Time for a new story
He says darkly
and swiftly closes
Past’s door.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Asper sweaty palms,
and other physiological ills
nothing beats infusion of
spine tingling electrifying chills -
experiencing psychological nirvana,
(nope NOT even
prescription medication pills)
except attaining, experiencing, and succumbing
delivering to bodily flesh, sans
nightly cathartic, intrinsic dream changing stills
and pacific inner calm gained,
thru shuteye, which tranquility
vis a vis REM hark able slumbers instills
necessary linkedin kickstarter instagram
godaddy transcendent reddit state, and fulfills
verity corroborated by perusing reliable
opinions painstakingly researched tracts
compiled by hands of
expert sleep specialists quills.
No surprise to me reading
(easy to understand)
judiciously, meticulously, and
professionally researched studies,
which unswervingly demand
the absolute zero tolerance
to deny deep jeep grand
(Cherokee) surrender into the land
where lovely bones and flesh
at rest, the agreed stand
hard quota of about seven hours finds
Melatonin the naturally occurring hormone,
secreted by the pineal gland
augmenting figurative trip wire,
where entire corporeal being fanned
by naturally biochemical processes
as if...complex species
guided by invisible hand.
Today, upon arising
without deafening vacuum
cleaner, yours truly did not feel gloom
me, nor rankle, an ordinarily mellow (Hume
more wrist) fellow, nee unlike
yesterday morning, where boom
ming ear splitting cacophony
gravely rented death stillness
unwittingly did exhume
even the grateful dead,
they did fuss and fume
(lumbering like 10,000 maniacs)
furious with rage
unbridled as many a jilted groom
(imagine a billion infuriated room
Hun hating thwarted lovers) assume
ming stanced ready to throttle throat
of she that chose to clean house
no matter engendering global sonic boom.
Morning Coffee
by Edmund Siejka
The night before
A soft rain had fallen
Traffic lights,
Hitting the streets
At just the right angle,
Transformed wet asphalt
Into long shiny ribbons.
Pulling into the Diner
He saw that most of the tables were taken
But there was one left
All the way in the back.
She was there
Calling all the morning customers by name
The men answering good naturedly
Their voices still heavy with sleep.
He watched as she walked
Down the narrow aisle
Every so often resting on a familiar shoulder
As she leaned over to pour another cup of coffee.
Closing his eyes
He wished she was with him
Kissing him
Her arms around his waist.
He, holding her so close to him.
When he looked up
He was alone.
Eventually she came to him
Walking all the way to the back of the diner
A mischievous smile on her face
Her impatient eyes asking
“Are you ready to order now?”
You are as beautiful as life seems to be
You are as dark as night make it be
You are as bright as the sun want to be
But you are as peaceful as death means to me
(You are as beautiful as others claim to be
You are as frail as your eyes make it be
You are as bright as the sun want to be
But I see that you aren't what they expect to be)
I keep thinking of you
Anywhere might you be
I hope you think of me
However high up you be
Visit me in my sleep
I want to dream of you till death
Make me feel your presence
I want to smell your essence
Tell me your adventures
I will be willing to listen
Don't wake me up
From this lovely nothing.
It was last call, and all, he contemplated
Was should I stay here, or leave this old world
When out of the blue, a stranger he knew
Said Gary go home, to your little girl
Do I know you there mister, what's your name
Please go now, I don't want company
Hey barkeep can you please tell this man
It'd be best if He decided to leave
He turned to look again but there was no one
Gary you should go sleep in your car
I'm not sure who you've seen, it's just you and me
The night Jesus entered the bar
You can't get to Heaven from a barstool
Or find the Spirit, in the whiskey or rye
One soul was saved, one life was changed
The night Jesus entered the bar
At that moment in his life, he found meaning
How'd that stranger know who I am
Gone were the days, the war memories plagued
And he's no longer, stuck in Vietnam
To this day if asked, he will tell you
He saw a man, he can clearly describe
Somehow he knew he'd met Jesus
And he went cold turkey that night
The night that Jesus entered the bar
His soul found redemption, and so did his heart
It ain't often that a man, gets a new start
The night Jesus entered the bar
There's no place He won't go, to help save a lost soul
The night that Jesus entered the bar....
I'm silently collecting my reflective thoughts
I write the words as I grasp for air
Breathing with rhythm as I write
Imagery sets in - beauty becomes me
My eyes are with radiance as I view sight
The hues on my face are mesmerizing
As the brilliant sun hypnotizes me , I see
Beauteous Be ! It's all quite contraire
Still the mood is surrounding my awe
The significance of beauty too becomes my soul
Warmth - I see color a phenomena
It intrigues me! I paint in my mind
The brush strokes blend on the palette
I splash the canvas - The virtue is ever ending
It is deep - even in REM as I sleep
Theoretically speaking I am charmed
A message reflects too that I am sending
I wake each morn - I relate to God
Nature nurtures my very well being
My personality glistens in view
The perspective is in my wounded heart
As I see the beauty of God's creations at will
And sit writing and painting by the window sill
I am appreciative! he built this for me
And as long as the precious sights I can see
I relate my reflections blessed with the skies above
And as God listens silently to my fragile brain
I come to terms with the audacious beauty with love
And best of all with terms of endearment
God's with me! I too am silently reflecting
A mind that is sane!