Long Subsisting Poems
Long Subsisting Poems. Below are the most popular long Subsisting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Subsisting poems by poem length and keyword.
Lettuce, lettuce alone
they both sang sad songs
to each other, about each other
that never meld, but it was all wrong
that a duet never had a chance together
there were high and low notes
that echoed from separate canyons
over the trail of lost goats
billowing souls crying for companions
words of soul's doom and gloom
displaced milk and cheese
lost were two budding blooms
pollinating in gardens breeze
time stretches aching hearts
as the two souls sat on mountains edges
billowing about being further apart
with neither soul looking over life's hedges
moon and stars laugh in their wake
as they sit idle all through the night
singing songs, echoing, of their heart ache
wasting a fleeting chance of a brighter light
a billy and a nanny fall into earth's loin
subsisting on lettuce, lettuce alone
connie pachecho
2/6/17
FRIDAY FEELING
Since I was seven
Friday feeling, so special.
Saturday ahead.
Flavor of holiday peeps.
Sweet fragrance igniting thrill
On higher study,
Happy Friday feelings changed.
Classes over week
No break. So! Friday feeling
got transformed on Saturday.
On service, Friday
came gorgeous glorious,
giving two off- days,
both Friday and Saturday.
Sweet scent of full bloom flower
flowing from Friday morning.
Onward so engaged!
Work-work-work! Raising children,
caring career.
Work subsisting on week end.
Friday feelings were just changed.
Reached last phase of life.
All rest, no work making dull
Reminiscence of thrill,
Most special Friday feeling
failing to find its lost place.
02/25/18
'Friday feeling' Contest by Silent One.
On the dark side of the sun
So hard to see beyond yourself
Too bright to see the back yard
Of the stars behind the curtain
Behind the mind of time
Are oceans really on the sun?
The forest for the trees exposed
Hides other life forms dressing up
In purple skins of nitroglycerin
Globes covered in raw happy light
Explode their particles to the stars
Rays of rain, subsisting on a solar song
Small objects rounding out the day
Drops of water turn to cosmic mist
Pulsing lights surf on raw waters energy
The proof is in believing everything is wet
Not water in the purest sense adrift
Cast more water on troubled water?
Oceans away the concept seems absurd
Seen through telescopic lenses end
If you must cast aspersions then
See mysteries around the corner
---------------Bend--------------------
Shadows know their way around
Crueler things found in the dark
A dispersion of light bursts forth
Reflectively genuflecting to sight
The other side of midnight dawns
Certainly without a drop of water
The dark side of the sun moves on
As the curtain
falls to pool,
a silent reverie
falls to ground
Amputated in
thralls hold,
the bereft
wandered
in Netherlands,
subsisting
on remembered be-fores,
spotlights and sweat-ed
applause
‘Break a leg’
is what they say
but diminished spirits
from crushing critics
ever smashing
to review,
all hope,
dashed
and newspapers
flutter on fences,
cruel proclamations
and opinions
now today’s
garbage,
remembering
ones discontent
Ringing from cords
while lungs grasp for air,
and in the rapture
of feeling
is the glamour,
of one string
feathering to vibrate,
all dimensions
of time
In claps of applause
are leads of rapture,
now connected,
the universes
symphony
starts transmitting
Black curtains
in time,
opened to infinity
and applause
reverberated,
in One
If I were immortal,
the carriage of fleeting time
can’t carry my soul away
from the adoring life in the present
to the distant realm of the past
where everything acquired
gets abandoned in obscurity.
Trailing the shadow of the future,
creating the convivial flood of love,
time carries on its flow to inundate
the lavish landscape of life sculpted
in my mind where dwells dormant
the perceptible desire of perpetuity,
the deathless dream…immortality.
If I were immortal,
the entrancing memory won’t die,
subsisting enduringly in the present,
for the soaring bird of my love
will fly in the infinite firmament,
spreading the wings to embrace
the halcyon horizon of the future.
While I drift with the imperishable soul,
floating in the sublime sea of eternity,
and with the congenial wind of love,
blowing on the sanguine sail of life,
set to embark on an endless journey,
I’ll get from the stalled time,
the surreal divine gift…immortality.
________________
April 23, 2022
Contest : If I Were Immortal
Sponsored by : Anoucheka Gangabissoon
As the curtain
falls to pool,
a silent reverie
falls to ground
Amputated in
thralls hold,
the bereft
wandered
in Netherlands,
subsisting
on remembered be-fores,
spotlights and sweat-ed
applause
‘Break a leg’
is what they say
but diminished spirits
from crushing critics
ever smashing
to review,
all hope,
dashed
and newspapers
flutter on fences,
cruel proclamations
and opinions
now today’s
garbage,
remembering
ones discontent
Ringing from cords
while lungs grasp for air,
and in the rapture
of feeling
is the glamour,
of one string
feathering to vibrate,
all dimensions
of time
In claps of applause
are leads of rapture,
now connected,
the universes
symphony
starts transmitting
Black curtains
in time,
opened to infinity
and applause
reverberated,
in One
kettle
drum
Concrete and Tarmac
Betwixt concrete grey and tarmac blackness
creeps the wand’ring eye of lazy sunrise
drawing inland sweet hint of windblown fresh
awakening the breaking surf’s curled sighs
blue docks echo a seagulls lonely cries
grounded beneath dark ever shifting skies
Red eyes survey commuters as they pass
long tails and oily hair in silent haste
reflected in stores high end looking glass
first streaking rays of sunrise breaking chaste
upon the heated scowl of brownstone face
glaring at a history time disgraced
Purveyors of a stream of urban wealth
small businesses subsisting day to day
seek sustenance ‘neath Wall Street’s wily stealth
hard fortunes made and lost on shell game tray
cold suits and leather bags too soon passe
how soon the predator becomes the prey
Alas, concrete and tarmac, faded pawns,
await the rise and fall of breaking dawns
©1/21/2018
submitted to – Urban Sonnet – Poetry contest
sponsor – Laura Loo
There was a time, my young friend, when you entered a room
and greeted other people, helped camaraderie and friendship bloom
There was a day, my young friend, when you boarded a train
and talked to the passenger next to to you, in conversation sustained
There was an era, my young friend, an era of friendly association
when folks made time for one another, for mutual affirmation
There was such a time, I recall it for sure, now swept away on a tide
of digital information
~ See what's become of us, my young friend -- a shadow-people
subsisting in stark isolation
(Dedicated to all those who have died alone.)
They cannot fit, they cannot go along,
and the reasons are wide: pride, fear,
even love never tempered by time,
illness of the heart or mind, or simply
bad, bad luck: life throws them away
until they throw life away....
She was one of the gentle ones,
the unlucky ones-- a flower child
who missed her time, an era she
might have thrived in, free, alive,
unencumbered by family ties....
If she had come age in the 60's,
she might have lived into her 90's.
But lost and afraid in a cold world
not of her making, with her bird-
like heart breaking, she ate her
last hoarded apple, then lay down
to sleep and sleep and sleep until
she awakened safe in heaven's lap.
--judged NA in 'Will to survive' contest, 10/15/20--
[The poem was based on a true incident whereby a young woman suffering severe depression and paranoia was released from a psych ward without anyone informing her family; she stayed alone for weeks in an empty, unheated house in winter subsisting only on half-rotten apples she had picked up from the ground in the back yard.]
Son, I'm so proud that you elected to serve in the United States Marines.
Military service is a family tradition - it just happens to be in our genes!
Your forefathers have worn the uniform since the genesis of this nation.
All were privileged to serve, feeling that it was their solemn obligation!
One of your distant relatives served as a lieutenant in The Revolution.
He lost an arm at Brandywine to boost this nation's glorious evolution!
A soldier on your mother's side was a sergeant in the Battle of New Orleans.
In letters he told of subsisting on meager rations of rancid pork and beans!
A grandfather shouldered a musket in the Mexican War affair.
Another, a corporal of cavalry in the Union Army served with elegant flair!
In the Spanish-American fray, one of your kin charged up San Juan Hill.
Your great grandpa led a platoon in World War One with consummate skill!
Your granddad was a fighter pilot in the South Pacific and became an ace,
And he later soared as an astronaut through the vast reaches of space!
I was privileged to serve as an army chaplain during the Korean War.
Your Aunt Sarah served with distinction in Viet Nam with the Nurses Corps!
So, you see son, you have a distinguished heritage upon which to build,
Serving all humankind to ensure that our quest for liberty is fulfilled!
Godspeed, Marine! Here's my old wartime copy of the Twenty-Third Psalm.
When assailed from all sides, it will provide you with great solace and calm!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Gail Doyle's "Writing A Heartfelt Poem To A Soldier" Contest
July 2012