Long Strains Poems

Long Strains Poems. Below are the most popular long Strains by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Strains poems by poem length and keyword.


The Sequel - Dance To Love - Part 2

I awake to the beautiful plaintive strains
Of a violin - then realize it’s just in my head
Just a dream - a shame to find
I’m in the hospital - same room - same bed

The monotonous ticking of the clock on the wall
Time, an indefinite progress of my existence
Time for my pills, time to call the nurse
Time not on my side, breaking down my resistance

After lunch a quick nap
Then the visiting hour I dread most of all
Seeing pity in their eyes, they wish me back
To what I was before my withdrawal

The world of music - my life - my love
The fame and fortune that once was mine
Exhilarating - Intoxicating, a wife at my side
With children sharing the Glory Divine

I lived it - I breathed it
Plucked at its very soul
The core of its existence in my hands
Like a faithful servant it played its role

I look at the painting on the wall
A feeling of Déjà vu enters it seems
I’ve seen this glade of lush green plants
And these sparkling bubbling streams

I remember drawing back watching afar
An Angel who danced in its midst
Who danced with wild abandon
Her hair that the sun had kissed

I remember wishing I could dance with her
With this Angel from above
A hundred birds would sing out loud
To watch us Dance to Love

But it’s just a painting - There’s no girl there
And I’m just a sick old man
Wallowing in my grief and sadness
Existing however best I can

What’s this I’m suddenly in the glade?
A young strong man once more
She has come for me, my Angel love
I leap - I twirl - I soar

The world I’ve left behind
Unshackled my attachments of
A hundred birds do sing out loud
To watch us Dance to Love

We dance with wild abandon
We dance without a care
With sun kissed skin our arms entwined
Wild flowers in our hair

Footnote:
We do not know for sure if my Father – who was a great violinist and classical musician, had imagined this story when he was a young man, when he chanced on a young girl dancing in the glade. It’s a story he told us many times and we loved to believe it.

I like to imagine a fitting finale to the first story, when his time came and have pictured it in this poem. 

This story begins in my Poem arrangement 'Dance to Love - Part 1'
Form: Narrative


Premium Member In Touch

Tune into the lark singing out its heart
as the golden rays of sunshine flood down.
Let all every day worries float away as
you relax into your surroundings.

High up the blackbird chatters in alarm
as the red fox slinks by with a fat rabbit.
Dropping it he makes a lunge falling short
and the blackbird hops closer teasingly.

Feel the fresh breeze on your skin
that sets all into motion as it passes.
Smell the aromas which are released
tantalizingly filling quivering nostrils.

Spin round in delight until giddy
and watch the pictures form
as your head swirls and
your misty eyes catch weird glimpses.

Things that drift through your mind
not quite fully formed yet vaguely recognised.
Teasing the mind as it strains 
to grab a clearer image and really see.

Accept today as a brand new start
and let go of all the cluttered baggage.
Only this way can you truly move forwards
and realise your dreams and true potential.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Just Observe

This study focus
On simple things
To flush out clutter


This reading lesson
On knowing more
With less to keep


This moving session
Of learning how and why
To purge the complex


This self-help study
To better understand
The posture attitude


This knowing essence
In word flow poise
To string elegance


This inner journey
From looking outside
To glimpse the moon


This outer wordplay
Of experiential seeing
To a shared fragment moment


This learning feeling
In present awareness
Of sublime innocence


This urgent impulse
Of captured strains
In obscure things plain




Leon Enriquez
13 September 2014
Singapore

Premium Member Haunting Fragment

Sense surreal fragment of long-lost ancient voice
Song of long ago in ethereal twilight glow,
Strains of fireside echoes dancing in sure poise.


Strange yet familiar faces in blurry show,
Haunting yet taunting tune in quaint rhapsody,
Crackling fireside whisperings in eerie flow.


Voices in the darkness hum bleak melody,
This twilight expose feeds thoughts disturbing,
Old souls from yonder times muttering plainly.


Potent vibrations stranded here lingering,
Feel the sad melancholy in windy strains,
Echoes of strange voices swirl around struggling.


So many souls in stifling surge of sure pain,
Listen to the wind borne tale and tragedy,
More and more the cacophony screams most plain.


Lingering weird dream fragment now confronts me,
Am I in a dream within a dream set free?


Leon Enriquez
20 Mar 2014
Singapore

Embracing Earth

Early on in my privileged life, 
    My parents gave wise advice to me:
   Be all you can be, but reckon strife.
  Relish every opportunity
Aware that strains and stress may be rife.
 Count it all joy that earth is your home
  Instead of starting out in Eden.
   Never give in to suffering like some,
    Give in to God and look for reasons.  

       Embrace the earth as His creation,
   Appreciate it as less than ideal.
 Realize this old world’s aggravation
   Tries our allegiance, patience to reveal.
       Heaven will reward our dedication.
Form: Acrostic


Mary Jane Part 2

Bubba Kush and lemon haze
All these flavors I wanna blaze
Pass the grinder and my tray
Wake and bake to start the day 

Sour diesel and blue dream
A hybrid makes a good team
These two strains are so harmonic
Now let’s sit and burn the chronic

Grandaddy purp and wedding cake 
Puff puff pass for my own sake
Ride the high ‘cause I need a break
Munchies! Time for a chocolate shake 

Maui Wowie and cotton candy kush
Spark that baby up and light that bush
It doesn’t even matter what strain
The green goddess hides the pain 

Yes we love you Mary Jane 
As you flow right through my veins
“But she’s not good for your brain”
Ignorant people are such a drain

Inhale, exhale, drop the ash
Even when the weed is trash 
It doesn’t hurt to keep a stash
The only green as good as cash
Form: Rhyme

Hold My Gaze In a Drop of Dew

There is nothing left of life
 that death cannot resolve,
 times velocity spins on stolen lips
 and minute pieces of adamantine
 pierce the edge of soles
 worn with pain 

---- 

Right here,
 Where night and dawn merge
 the membrane strains
 cleaving, as shade blackens blue
 for mere milli seconds

Standing in the hollows of night
 still, watching forever shimmering
 in the shadowed corner of my eye,
 I, me, always a curious creature
 swallow bricks and mortar
 tasting truth 

In my head an orchestra plays
 the symphonies composed of my life
 strings wring my heart with melodies
 wrought in pain and self-loathing
 shame and eventual surrender
 to the beat 

But,
 in the beauty of renewal
 in the peace of your reflections
 I've wondered at the universe
 memorizing the mysteries unsolved
 ever tantalized neurons smashed
 awakening ever and over again 

Sleep has been a foreign land
 settled by the fortunate
 longed for by the tortured
 spirits of my mind 

Yet in these dark magnificent galaxies
 when snores softly sigh in peace
 or monsters haunt your dreams,
 I have watched millennia of mourning
 shatter the promise of darkness evermore,
 I wondered as sunshine held a drop of dew
 and as light of hope captured the ghosts of night
 banishing them forevermore, or until nights edge 

I am a watcher and a teller of tales
 Singer of forbidden songs and tragedy,
 downtrodden, I rose to fight again and again
 with a schizophrenic mind harnessed
 within the beauty of a single star
 and the promise of humanity
 in the kindness of a strangers touch 

Now at the end of all journeys
 my final battle lays in that
 which I know not, shackled
 that foreign land whisks me away
 again and again, dreams cease
 as moisture rolls from my brow 

---

Slowly, slowly, slowly
 winding down into nothingness
 Gently, gently, gently
 I will lay down your cries of grief 

My words aren’t never-ending
 my breath will someday cease
 Yet true beauty and wonder lies
 in the wondrous infinity of peace

just look into these eyes overflowing with pain
 know !! there will be an end, even that shall ease ...

SHEEPSHAPE

SHEEPSHAPE

If not a ram then a sheep is a ewe
White and woolly, docile it’s true

One of many, as part of a herd
Clustered together, as preferred

Various strains are kept and bred
Unless taken for mutton instead

But there are several sheep breeds
Enough to fulfil lamb eaters’ needs

Sheep so unwanted in the wild west
They ate grass that made beef best

But lambs are cutest, as we know
Gamboling around, white as snow

So cuddly, and quite nice to hold
But not so much when they’re old

Wool is a raw material for clothes
Soft and fluffy as everyone knows

But wool can be spun into big balls
Remaining unsold until knitting calls

In Greece, sheep’s milk fares better
As there it is used for making Feta

One can even hear sheep from afar
But not so loud as to raise the baa
Form: Couplet

Premium Member The Tiny Bird

When through my window flew a tiny bird,
she straightway went to where she chose to roost.
I laughed because it seemed a bit absurd
her perching on my bed post! I deduced
she'd lost her way, but now that she was here,
she seemed at home. She cocked her head at me
as if she had a thing to say. No fear
did she display, no sign that she would flee.

She had the sky and trees. What could she need
inside my little room? Why did she stay?
I offered her, from open hand, a seed.
She bent and pecked at it right where it lay.

The world is huge. . . we're free! Yet what explains
that from my room now pours this bird's sweet strains?
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Discombobulation

Unseen is the dark sky midst the pitch darkness. Owls howl-hoot.
Vampire bats fly around. I sit, staring at the red moon.
What has happened to me? What brute has made my lute mute?
I'm mortified. Am I going to be crucified soon?

Anxiety, like charring wildfire, within me blazes.
Depression, like termites, is eating up my cells and veins.
Strains, like storms and gales, erase my inner spaces.
Why is this insomnia? Why are these brain fogs and pains?

I should get out of these, I thought. I should choose life, not death.
How merry are these birds, bees, butterflies, leaves, and flowers?
How, the divine, in each creature, like the breeze, spread its breath?
How could I ignore the blossoming of the cosmic powers?

Optimism, like clear streams, should flow within me flawlessly.
I should nourish the noble nurture of nature noiselessly.
Form: Sonnet

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace