Long Spiral Poems
Long Spiral Poems. Below are the most popular long Spiral by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spiral poems by poem length and keyword.
A single white rose
rests within morning’s murmur~
soft-scented, still,
its silken hush shimmering
like a shy soul seeking speech.
Light leans along its edges,
a slow, silver slip of dawn
drifting down each petal.
The air around it listens,
leaning into the low, lilting glow
the bloom seems to breathe.
I trace its tender spiral~
that subtle swirl of becoming,
that circle of calm
carved from cold earth and
the long, lonely labor of growth.
Even the stem
holds a quiet strength,
a slender spine of green
gathering the grace
to lift what is luminous
from what is lost.
And still~
the rose remains a whisper,
a white-winged witness
to the world’s wandering sorrows.
It stands in its soft solitude,
shining through the ache,
offering only openness,
only the fragile faith
of unfolding.
A single white rose~
a small, steadfast star
rooted in soil,
rising toward sky,
reminding the moment
that beauty, even bruised,
blooms.
Voice of the Universe
Inner voices gently sway and twist
into a spiral of nothingness
finding a place of surrender.
The venture we seek is far beneath,
obscured and vigilant
from what light reveals.
Our eyes have no capacity.
Our heart envisions to lead us
through the door of silence
that holds the throne of our peace and sanctity.
It is a place of surrender
into the depths of wisdom
that speak from the surface of knowing.
It heals the pain within our meaning.
Its sweetness pervades all reality.
The infinite is permeable and muted.
It is exquisitely defined and complete.
It cannot be touched-only felt.
As we fall into the deep sea of ourselves,
the aquatic flow we know as truth
reflects in the tides of our history and belonging.
It is hidden but easily found.
It is obvious but invisible.
It is the place of our judgement.
It is the redemption of our being.
It is the intelligence of knowing.
It is acceptance and forgiveness.
It is our sunrise and sunset.
It is the voice of the universe
that teaches us our most profound moment
of our connection within love.
July 31, 2021
Tat Tvam Asi Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Thanksgiving Eats
By Franklin Price
11/11/2019
Thanksgiving time is coming
Just a couple weeks away
I will review the food for you
On that diet ending day
There's dressing for the turkey
That we're carving from the top
Mashing up some fresh potatoes
Now is not the time to stop
Add some giblet gravy
Just a spoonful, maybe two
Could have some mushrooms in it
If they're just the thing for you
Maybe have a pre-cooked ham
With a fancy spiral cut
Or purchase one to bake yourself
A shoulder or a butt
Marshmallow sweet potatoes
Cranberry sauce, if so inclined
A glass or two of Chardonnay
And you'll know that you have dined
It's okay to take a break
When main courses are done
And gossip 'bout the family
Always Thanksgiving fun
Won't take long to catch up
Just when the tales are getting good
The desserts are on the table
Looking better than they should
Looks like there's nanner puddin'
Some cake, and many pies
You may find your stretched out stomach
Was not as big as were your eyes
I know I haven't covered all
That might be on your table
I'm so full with what I've written
That I'm just no longer able
In the silence, a question demands my attention—a voice in my head compels me to acknowledge that these moments mark the completion of the Earth's rotation.
Many people have fallen to the ground, and after discussing this with friends, it became clear that a significant number of people are dying due to falls. This issue deserves our attention.
As the old saying goes, “I have fallen and cannot get up.” It's important to recognize that age can impact our physical abilities, especially after fifty. As we grow older, our mobility can decline, making it essential to prioritize movement and exercise.
I vividly recall last December, on a chilly morning when I stepped out of a warm shower, the steam still swirling around me. As I set my foot on the bathmat, it slipped beneath me, sending me tumbling to the floor in a surprising spiral. Thankfully, I narrowly avoided a serious injury; I merely bruised my ego in the process. In that moment, as I lay on the cool tiles, I found myself chuckling at the absurdity of it all. I was fortunate to be able to pull myself up, wiping away the remnants of embarrassment with a smile. Sadly, many others have faced far graver fates, as their falls resulted in serious injury or worse. It’s a reminder that my time here isn’t over yet; it seems God still has plans for me.
Today is April 1, 2025, a wonderful opportunity to take a moment to reflect on our health. It's crucial to remember that seeking the assistance of our doctors is a positive step toward well-being, and it should always be embraced.
Specks floating
Lights flying
New stars collide
Purple, orange, white, black, even blue
Shapes interchanging
Shapes that all have a place
No matter the face
Bringing beauty with a dark trace
O the darkness
O the light
The balance of infinity
The balance of all shapes race
How they spiral
How they twinkle
How they change
How they look so beautiful
With no trace of perfection
Just mesmerizing shapes out of place
Finding their own way
Formulating
Evolving
Transcending
O how the darkness collides with light
Best of both worlds
When they finally unite
Sitting in chaos
Sitting in peace
To catch one another
When the other falls
In the resonant noise of continual commotion,
as the voice of hysteria feels quietened
by the tender touch of consummate calmness,
the serene sheath of sentiments sinks slow
with uniquely unexpressed notion
in the unreachable forsaken depth of the mute mind.
When the cacophony outside finally subsides,
the unsaid becomes the sound of silence,
that vibrates where it finds the desired niche,
strikes softly the unknown chord of harmony.
The expression enunciates what isn’t conveyed yet
from the placid depth of quietude.
In the chaotic space of crumbled relationships
the squally sentiments spiral outraged
in the whirlwind of invasive indignation,
where they once grew in the eye of resentment storm.
Many hues of sensitivity act in the kaleidoscopic show
in the frozen depth of the heart unfeelingly hollow.
When the tempest stops after the apocalypse,
the designed perceptual shroud of stalled silence
spreads in the psychic pathway paved by cogent essence,
where the fragrant wind of seraphic spring blows
with floral emotions that walk the dormant desires
in the desolate streets of solitude.
Dormant ashes, coals within,
Tremble as a passing breeze
Sprays cold gray dust across the smoky air
All seems bleak and dead
The breeze strengthens
Ashes swirl and soar
Uncovering embers and simmering coals
Temperatures rise and sparks fly
As the grave of gray rises like a phoenix from its ashes
Flames spiral out of the ground
Its pale gray now radiant with light
A bird of flame unfurls its wings and takes flight
Leaving its ashes behind to settle in the dark
Faster
Higher
Louder
Further the flame grew
Turned a striking shade of red
And frayed the darkness
Revealing perhaps what was not yet meant to be revealed
At the bird's peak, the colors shifted
The phoenix plummeted
Faster
Lower
Silent
An inferno of icy blue
Still burning all in its path
Then there is emptiness
In a dry well of sorrows
Frost melting the stone
The phoenix now shrouded in cold mist
Simmers
Shafts of light escape the cavern of the well
And with a thunderous roar
The stone crumbles and a hawk hurtles upwards
Fire in its eyes
The tips of its wings aflame
Red and Black
Everything burns
Cracks and buckles
Still the hawk hovers
Its gaze crushing and cruel
At whom?
Black and Red
Fire and Ice
My empty, dry well… crumbles
Two turkeys in the oven and candy yams
Whipped mash potatoes, cranberry sauce from a can
A green bean casserole and a relish plate as planned
Corn bread dressing and sage dressing for the big man
Lots of butter and dinner rolls with jellies and jams
Deviled eggs a dish of mac and cheese with bits of bacon
Giblet gravy and sweet cream corn we understand
Pumpkin pie and cherry and don't forget the pecan
And for goodness sake must serve the honey spiral ham
Have Sprite and sweet tea liquor won't be banned
A big green toss salad and don't forget the Thousand Island
And if you get a chance a bucket of original KFC fried chicken
Some fresh fruit and veggies will make the table look grand
Some light soups and breads and cheeses we can do again
Or we can all head to Golden Corral, load up the big van.
“Thought forms desire spawns are suspect
Detached soul alone stands erect”
- quote, by poet
________________________
Attachments compel stagnation
Fears and desires then enmesh soul
Illusion bondage delusion
Heart cries out, to again feel whole
Thoughts spiral in a narrow band
Attachments compel stagnation
Made thus captive by our own hand
We crouch in fearful contraction
Path to freedom is cessation
Fearless spirit in witness stance
Attachments compel stagnation
Jubilant heart chooses to dance
Our life, our choice, be to become
Make then each breath celebration
Joyous heart makes love feel welcome
Attachments compel stagnation
08-November-2021
''T'' Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Across the daily bridge I stoop,
to gaze upon the world,
always with the option overhead,
two faces of the same mint,
or just as likely liquid mirror,
in the very widest sense,
but such ad hoc aspects wanting,
further clarity as time unfolds,
ripple of the passing current,
flutter from a proud human voice,
stir in the second musings,
the sort that flit erratically,
with side to side dawn chanson,
Am I lost to early groundswell?
when observing without ruse,
at the recess of each bend,
as I journey through the morn,
with that omniscient perk,
one hailed as living wonder,
which far too few revel in,
despite its spectrum burst,
those clouds of energy,
magically arouse contagion boundless,
catchment hub without a catch,
spiral vim catcher taking hold,
keep that thought circulating,
hold that second, clutch that minute,
grasp the hour, stake your day,
season doesn’t matter at this point,
exhilarated cluster like a roundabout,
whirring, spinning, care free,
vortex, suction cup, tantaliser,
ample flourish latest vocal trend,
inhibition, tight restraint, closed lip,
inapt, not welcome, not here,
if only life zest would prevail,
magnet for enthusiast of whom,
the myriads exalt subliminally,
I swear an oath to cosmos,
unswerving in my fervor