Long Substance Poems
Long Substance Poems. Below are the most popular long Substance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Substance poems by poem length and keyword.
*Image of Forgiveness by Pixabay.
Tale of the Forgiving Betold
Albeit a notable stretch
that stars wouldst a fairer
share of thee and sheath
thy warm expanse.
Sire, alack thy humble
servant beseech thee,
me Lord, for wouldst
thee taketh to mind
thoust faileth thee but
'tis once at the weest hour.
Shouldst thou beg
the goddesses and
gods forthwith 'tis
thy noble quest for
virtue sake that thou
mayest risk a stable
footing verily proved
thy acts of decency.
Pall's errant gift thee
a habilitating ward,
a silhouette soul, its
quaint steps for a
merciful fortitude.
To seize caring eyes
fortuitous event of
a chartreuse field
of wavery rushes
and vibrancy pell
in crystalline spring.
A dutiful life longing
begrudged in the
greens of Evermore,
mayhaps thoust dwelt
in the recesses of thy
bosoms for they hadst
possesseth thee so
willingly, that thoust
act gently.
Nay, nary an army,
soothly a herald of
dreams that unlade
trails ifsoe'er mingle
charmingly, napping
in cases, perchance
to claim and rescue
thyself and possibly
pretenders begone
and ne'er-do-wells
that causeth a toss
and twirl fortuitously
erelong into the tuck
of episodic twilight's
unraveling sepulchral.
Sparkled specks and a
Chaser to settle scores
natheless thou mentored
souls that dwarf a sea of
their gilded hearts.
Less of a challenge when
substance, and grit, amidst
the generous few whose
serendipitously perpetuates
the moment -- forthwith.
Suite melody be the appeal
in the case of forgiveness
for there is proper cause for
the bestowment allocation
gratuitously and without
delay.
Forbearance is the footing
lain the acts of forgiveness.
2022 August 23
The space between stars is not empty.
The plane of existence is not a desolate void,
and not a place that is devoid
of substance that was long ago destroyed.
The space between stars is not just filled with dark energy
that we never see stretching and pulling a galaxy
across time and space with cosmic lethargy,
taking light years and light centuries in extraterrestrial reverie.
The space between stars is not merely gas and dust
in clouds of galactic cirrus
accelerating in a universe
cold, dark, dank and averse.
The space between stars is filled with thoughts
and dreams of all those who came before,
all sentient beings from heretofore
and the memories of all whom we adore.
The Meat Machine…
There you are all bundles of blood, nerve, bone,
There you are in the matter same substance you are--you call your home,
Its been once said you are nothing but a tiny speck of dust,
In your head you are something! It’s all really just rock and dust,
The thoughts do they linger…do you go on?
Is there eternal life bringer…after final Swan Song?
This magnificent beautiful thing called life sometimes too hard to take it all in
If I see all its beauty all at once I feel my heart may burst… Your staring moment under the great star...that's all you are, that’s all you are…that’s all we are..
As with people
Art comes in all shapes
and sizes – colors and
shades, are the lenses
of distortion, while the lights
of revelation; textures are
our sniffing out, the soul like a
canine, on the scent of its
substance...
The novice starts with subject
or theme; while those more hearty
trust in the unseen Force of art –
stepping from its precipitous
ledge with mortal abandonment
free-falling, taken only pen
and brush in tow; pads, paints and
primed canvasses – all instruments of
of man's omnipotence
The Muse hollers, Nay!
While I say, work with me
or die, plummeting toward
the unforgiving bottom....
This evening sneers, lurks and is snooty,
and dares to look through my window,
peers like something with substance,
gawps into that mirror on the wall.
Yes, evening, you ogle.
Your black glance is on my glass of wine.
showing your low lordliness,
condescending in your awesome manner of night,
sitting there with your supercilious sight, scoffing, gazing.
Who are you?
When will you cease to be night,
become the radiance that will be tomorrow?
Yet you'll sit throughout that day
awaiting its darkening moments.
Oh, yes, light will soon be you, night,
and scoff at me with your dark, dark face.
(May 2022)
We know that trees reach...
Ignoring the substance
of Earth and seeking
the damp and the light,
the wet on the way,
to the light on some
far side, a far side
with promise of light
when all here is dark.
All moments are rooted
within themselves;
and in themselves
they find Reach
Past shadows,
the understory of
reach, following
slants and slivers of shine:
first charcoal, now
jades, following gold
to the promise
of blue.
reach, reach
each, each
moment
reach, reach
each, each
moment
of life.
To skies
seen above;
to skies
believed below.
But did you know?:
a fallen Fraser
a felled fig
a downed dogwood
a horizontal horse chestnut
may reach all the same
like long-dead ancestors
whose stories and myths are
told over cut-split-spark wood
late at night. Carrying stories,
wisdom, laughter, & lessons...
...and their meanings teach you
...and their meanings reach you
beyond death, from another shore.
For a good reach can outlast
death,
can outfox
time,
can outdo
death.
So, too the timber
whose roots kiss the air,
whose leaves've lost
sight of the light,
continues its sacred
reach...
If you look
across the gap
to the distant shore
you may yet see
the teachings of trees
uprooted and rotting.
The teachings of trees
so muted, so not-Spring.
There! Over the burble,
retired from reaching
but still she is teaching
the value of reaching;
becoming a bridge
that we each might reach,
tiptoeing on beech,
to the far 'n long-promised
beach.
He has anointed
All his creation
He has anointed his nature
All created look up and see the sky blue
Ever true
God's heavenly vintage view
Radiant the substance the circumstance broad
Is his environment
He has spoken mouth created wide open
Spills the rain fill the lane the land
Falling falls views
Look up see the sky blue
He has anointed his nature all creation
Validating recreating let His love purpose flow
Through come upon me
Survival of the drought becomes upon me
I am hungry for the world starving for God's words
Feed me Lord holy Spirit
I deserve to be heard
This found in me
He has anointed His creation all His nature
Tribute to the Rains
And then it finally came
What was very much sought
And what was most needed
As people even prayed for
Eventually, the rains did arrive
Coming as it did in a flurry
Consuming with it all anxiety,
Uncertainty, the heat and dust
In whatever shape it did land
As speedy drizzle or brazen shower;
Noisy downpour continued all nights,
With lightning and thunder
Hurtling down came the stormy rain
With gale and gusty winds, splashing,
Causing muddy pools and rolling floods;
Hurriedly filling up lakes and reservoirs
Wishes grew, for it to be regular
Each year and round the year; enough,
For that alone would mean, growth
And bring in, wealth and happiness
And thus it raised the hopes of farmers
From communities far and wide; who,
Ever so expectant gazed at the sky:
For rains alone made their crops thrive
For Flora and Fauna to bloom manifold
As pastures and fields spring back to life
Plants and trees turning to refreshing green
As marshy lands all get wet and soaked
At long last the Rain Gods had scampered in
Bringing with it promises of plenty and cheer;
Making the air clean and pollutants free
And ushering in climate for a comfort spree
Children rushed to get drenched for fun
While others chose to cuddle in the bed
A delight that's been quite forgotten
For rains brought thrill to all age brethren
It often inspired families to stick together
And munch crispy snacks chattering together;
With a myriad of thoughts and dreams
And alas life for man got all set to zoom!
It didn't really matter how rains showed up
Through a 'cyclone' or a ‘depression’
All it did was to arrive in style and substance;
To the stupendous amazement of all asunder
Whether in torrents or in spate
Raindrops did charge the water bodies
Making insects and worms come alive
For birds to flutter and butterflies to swarm
The wonder of this refreshing shower
Instantly thrilled my heart with heavenly beat,
And thoughts pleasantly ebbed in my mind
To string words together and sing in praise
Great God indeed; did this resource, bless,
For bereft of it; all life shall be a thing of past
And with it the journey of all living things
May well see the light of millenniums ahead!
Music makes our spirit rejoice in sonorous numbers for sure,
a true proposition, lucid and irresistible to endure.
Another dress in destinies wardrobe confined,
inordinate mysteries of creation what cannot be denied.
Vapors of memories through so many cultures perceived,
plunging into state of fervent pleasure by the beat conceived.
Transparent flow and move to the instant open of musical eternity,
active texture of melodies with certainty.
It opens the substance of the sound of fabulous antiquity,
accepting the resonance of supreme formidable gravity.
Recreating worlds in worlds in fragile states,
communicating with the invisible by joy declared.
Timeless moments at the threshold of beatitude,
sensuous mental recaptured art in debt of gratitude.
Dancing circles of light proceeding from heart of the self release,
when the light turns from silver to gold as sense of deepening peace.
The peace that surpasses all understanding with the pulse of energy,
where in the center all opposites reconcile and genius is the key.
Upon a time, not so long ago
I saw these things, and locked them away
In the treasure room of my memory:
One sunset, Apocalyptic in its brilliance;
Clouds of opal shimmering,
Flying across a sapphire sea.
The white ruins of an ancient city.
Once home to a great and proud people,
Streets long settled into the silence
Of years marked off by dust,
My footprints in that dust.
And just beneath these things I felt another something
Immense, Unnamable
That lies far below our common perceptions
Like water flowing beneath thick ice.
The knowledge of its prescence,
Felt only in those fragile moments
When images too beautiful for the frailty of words
Burn their way into the depths of our souls,
Has given me that sound I hear now in silence
A clear bell that sounds a tone
Not made by any instrument of Man,
Which stills the frantic revolutions of my reasonings
And gives me back the pure sight I had long ago
Before my childhood disappeared.
In fleeting impressions
Falling through the tempest of experience
That carries us all through life,
I sense this other side of the world,
The calm, steady eye
That holds fast in the center of the cyclonic round
Of Creation and Destruction
That drives the Universe along:
The unmoving Hub
At the center of the infinite wheel.
Sometimes I feel this faraway place
Lying nearer than my latest breath,
Standing firm somewhere beyond all confusion,
And island of strength beyond all substance
Surrounded by the seas of our doubts.
I touch it with my mind, in flashing moments
And it is enough
To bring some peace to the wars of my emotions,
To steady my hands as I guide my life
Towards its unseeable end,
Uncertain and dim in the approaching distance.