Long Staid Poems
Long Staid Poems. Below are the most popular long Staid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Staid poems by poem length and keyword.
Gussie Moran, a tennis star,
Created quite a stir
When she wore lace-trimmed underwear,
Created just for her.
In 1949 this was,
On Wimbledon’s staid courts;
The British folk were scandalized,
According to reports.
Designed by Teddy Tingling,
A tennis pro and Brit,
The all-white skirt (above the knees!)
Had newsmen in a snit.
They said she brought “vulgarity”
And even, more so, “sin”
Into a sport that prior
Only let the proper in.
Along with her obit, there was
A photo of her wearing
These very clothes; to us, today,
They’re anything but daring.
But bravo to this fearless gal!
Her charms she did assert
When she gave fans at Wimbledon
A shock beneath her skirt.
Reborn each morn around dawn,
hum of awareness purring,
essence of presence, joyous and aglow,
suffused with bliss, feels alive and complete,
having not yet stirred in duality.
It is here, in the bardo,
whence poised in the vibrant void,
hemmed in not by thought and our senses five,
our bliss drenched soul feels whole, feeling no lack,
one with life’s flow thus, in staid stillness slow.
Fulcrum of our consciousness
stands outside both space and time
and it is from here we choose to descend
into the earth vessel which we ensoul,
to ink our aura with the hues of love.
As we so wake up from sleep,
relinquishing not heart’s bliss,
we may, if we choose, hold thought forms at bay
the whole day, holding steady the bliss flame,
transfixed in the scent, for our soul’s ascent.
In timeless time, we transmute
as living light, with God one.
Written: August 26, 2023
Pour Your Heart Out Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
______________________________________________________________
In a world without walls, emotions run wild.
His creativity soars, such a curious child.
Unbound by meter or syllable count,
Words dance freely, without a surmount.
Embracing nakedness in its purest form
Expression flows, unafraid of the norm.
Yanked naked, in virginity embrace,
The binding belt of chastity finds no place.
In meadows, we sleep quiet and serene.
A pristine haven, free of squatter scenes.
No fighting for rights, with sonnet-crafted homes,
Just literature's embrace, where beauty roams.
Straying from the norm, acolytes observe,
As castles are built, the passion they preserve
Orderly expression, poetic masterpieces unfold,
Safeguarded and treasured, stories untold
Metaphors align, in a specific subset,
Pictures become art—a realm you won't forget.
For those unfit to fly in their confines,
Outside the norm, a vast nebula shines.
A growing quill, flowers from seeds sown,
A power of smell, memories to be known.
The brain may elect to ignore the scent.
But settling into a form is what words must represent.
On this journey, there are no rules to be bound,
Just a burning desire to bear words resound.
Strive to harass the page, ignite the fire within,
Tell someone a mystery; let rebirth begin.
Unbound in verse, we embark on a journey,
Beyond confinement, we find sanctuary.
No wall can bridle our emotions.
Our creativity soars with endless notions.
Ventilated, our thoughts freely flow.
Unbound by limits, we let our words grow.
In this realm, there are no restrictions.
Only the freedom to explore our convictions.
With every word, we break free from the chains.
Unleashing our souls, embracing no restraints.
The power of language, a force so profound,
Guiding us on a path where true beauty is found.
Our body is a tinderbox
Yes it is and high time we know
But to feel the flame, first detox
Gentling thought in staid stillness slow
Heart's fire within is love and light
Christ consciousness veiled by ego
To feel full force of bliss delight
Fears and desires, we must let go
Cause of suffering, ignorance
Mistaken that we're body-mind
This erroneous inference
Is why we flounder about blind
From thoughts when we secure release
All that remains is tranquil calm
Rid at last of desire’s disease
We're engulfed by love’s healing balm
Thus not doing but undoing
Is the way to ignite rapture
Thunder that keeps on renewing
Ecstasy mind cannot capture
It's all within, weary hermit
But to feel the flame, first detox
Bliss beats take soul to the summit
Our body is a tinderbox
18-October-2022
This or That, Vol 14 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Going from one kind
of hell to another
The women would change
— but his torment remained
**
Fidelity’s Orphan
The lies are easy
but truth gives me trouble
Veracity’s mistress
lingers unwed
Deceit an enchantress
that woos in our folly
Fidelity’s orphan
— unnamed and ill bred
**
Bridges
Wit
is the difference
between a quote
— and a quip
**
Robin’s Hood
To live
outside the law
if righteousness
decrees
To stand alone
against the throne
fugitive
— and free
**
Misdirection
You can’t change what is
with what isn’t
You can’t say goodbye
with hello
You can’t fix what’s wrong
with ill mention
You can’t touch the sky
— from below
**
Lessons Belie
You can never teach
the heart of a poem
only its form or structure
at best
What’s beating inside
every lesson belies
and no box or its wrapper
— will ever attest
**
Ancient Jaws
Hiding
below the surface
Water
muddy and stark
A snapping
turtle waits in silence
Lurking
— in the dark
**
One Eye Left Open
All change is internal
the outside world staid
Heaven’s dead reckon
is trapped in the senses
Caught in a mirror
of transient reflection
One eye left open
— the other relayed
**
Between The Notes
Idleness
hides the most
attractive
industry
Often
the most valued
part of
the day
Lost
in the magic
of chance
undetermined
Rich
not in money
but in wonder
— assayed
**
Safe Harbors
Encircled by memory
old feelings surround
Confronted by turmoil
they seek common ground
Each musing familiar
old thoughts from the fray
Marching together
— to carry the day
**
Never Stop Believing
Never say no
till you’re
too busy
to say yes
Never stop writing
till the
words
have regressed
Never stop asking
till the
last question’s
gone
Never stop believing
till
right
— becomes wrong
**
Look fear in the eye
and desire decry,
that as we unfreeze,
our soul gets release.
Watchful of each thought
lower m8nd begot,
we embrace each soul,
in our earth life role.
Judging not merit,
we look at spirit
and not outer form;
thus with love conform.
Earth life is a school
where love's the sole rule,
all else illusion,
cause of delusion.
Male, female, night, day,
pulse dual holds sway
but yet true delight
is God's love and light.
Desires we cherish;
each will soon perish,
save bliss magnetism
in our body prism.
In staid stillness slow,
resting thoughts we know
that God alone is,
felt as a bliss fizz.
Our life's readymade;
Why for then afraid?
What is there to fear
when God is so near?
Voids within soon fill
if we be but still.
Ceasing to resist,
we become That mist.
Conscience as our guide,
we then wingless glide,
head-heart hand in glove,
aligned with God's love.
Know this simple fact;
ceasing to react,
once ego is shorn,
we become twice born.
17-September-2022
when correct spelling eludes you write a different word
stay true to the anarchy poetry form make it up as you go
a haiku is just a Japanese limerick and a tad bit shorter
conceived on delicate sake rather than a stout Guinness
once the tongue is loosened and the audience plastered
any syllable count deceives what is meant to be voiced
at the end of a pub crawl harp and zither sound quite alike
shamisen and all strings attached resonate just the same
true to the nature of art what pleases with passionate sound
sometimes refuses to be squeezed into reverend lines
if one looks at some ever so famous writing one wonders
what kind of mushrooms inaugurated such magic outpour
on a more sober matter poetry is in the eye of beholders
dysphonia on steroids is a natural remedy for logophobia
one man’s incoherence is another one’s mythical calling
but courage is bravery however you wish to pronounce it
there was once a young man it Haikushima
illiterate is what he was called by Mama
who’s whiskey lacked lime
did not give a dime
when he spent a penny someone stole his thunder and drama
green fields and butterscotch clover
fragrance of Irish Oak blossoms -
lost for words the weather staid speechless
in case of any doubt in the mind of the affectionate reader
this poetry form is part of the extended self-critical monologue
style currently still in its experimental encrypted stage which
in its naive but raw and expressionate timbre is meant to confuse
03rd March 2021
Love, light and bliss is our natural state,
as that who we are when we are quiet,
our tranquil presence poised at heaven’s gate,
gentling our thoughts before they run riot.
Once we renounce ownership over thought,
from mind’s meanderings we are immune,
ensconced in bliss mists that divine grace brought,
vibrant and joyous, humming a love tune.
Simply by animating attention,
with no earth bound agenda in focus,
divine magnetism our meditation,
in wonderment we surf the bliss locus.
That egoic delusion may be destroyed ~
We gently slide into the vibrant void
We gently slide into the vibrant void,
in a domain that is beyond space-time,
no longer by cravings of ego toyed,
resting thus in peace betwixt bliss beat’s chime.
In timeless time we see God face to face,
deep in the cave of our heart, where He dwells
but know God-vision is solely by grace,
when the axe of purity ego fells.
The truth that is seen is beyond space-time,
where we see our true Self as living light,
divine spark mirroring God’s heartbeat’s chime,
whence fears erased, we know we’ll be alright.
This knowing garnered we willingly share ~
Truth of the ancients we have laid bare
Truth of the ancients we have laid bare,
that all souls on earth may connect with source,
of their divinity become aware,
in staid stillness without employing force.
That we are not body-mind, once we know,
thoughts slowed down and all attachments renounced,
light of Self within heart begins to glow,
whence cravings of wayward ego are trounced.
Simply thus by plugging energy leak,
all nodes within feeble form magnetised,
we discover we are he who we seek
and truth of God within is realised.
To reclaim our Self is our ordained fate ~
Love, light and bliss is our natural state
A soul is divine it is said,
by spiritualists, well read,
but what soul is, most have not seen,
who are by scriptures blindly led.
Detached hermits, whose needs are lean,
in staid stillness have felt soul’s sheen,
which we too can know, if we choose,
erst fears and desires, from heart wean.
With agape love as our heart’s muse,
following truth without excuse,
we then see soul, as light of God,
whence mind games no longer amuse.
Made in God’s image, soul’s a pod,
blooming when we give love our nod,
shining within, as living light;
revelation that leaves us awed.
Bliss drenched soul pulsates with delight,
humming gently by day and night,
as God’s essence, alive, aglow,
known when awakens inner sight.
Thus truth of soul, if we would know,
we must make first, our thought flow slow,
whereupon we see soul’s divine;
whence God guides us and we follow.
Eye rowed my hoarse
won summer’s day
My horse went hoarse
and wood knot nay
I whisted my turds to make him laugh
Butt Muffin choked and started coffin
I said Muffin you’re having a giraffe
A lass I kneed a coffin two carry him off in
Eye road my hoarse won summer’s day
My hoarse went horse and wood knot nay
Pleas can ewe tell me wear two berry a hoarse
Knot inn the knackers yard ore on a race coarse
My hoarse went horse won summer’s day
Butt now he’s dead watt can eye say
I’d whisted my turds to make him laugh
Eye will put hiss obituary inn the telegraph
Eye’ll miss old Muffin my trusty hoarse
Butt Muffin choked and now he’s dead
Aye wish my hoarse had staid the coarse
I’ll bye a donkey and ride hymn instead
Butt my donkey was in fact a mule
Aye didn’t no the difference I’m a fool
Now Muffin the mule’s ran out of fuel
Eye should have listened moor inn school!
Word Play Poems with Play-on-Words raison d'etre -- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Anderson
07/18/21