Long Supernovas Poems
Long Supernovas Poems. Below are the most popular long Supernovas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Supernovas poems by poem length and keyword.
Some express their pain,
some sacrifice it for others,
only poets turn it into poetry - (my quote)
Only poets can turn words into poems,
so those who are not poetic
can feel them in a beautiful way.
I'll always hide behind metaphors,
as I'm just a zestful zephyr,
trying to bring calm among
a tempest of mood swings.
When fate floats like charcoal puffs,
a tender touch helps to release
suppressed drops of sorrow
so I ponder, why I remain
emotionally challenged.
Every night the moon glows among the stars,
but is powerless against them burning away.
I find comfort in knowing some transform
into supernovas, just like ink becoming a poem.
We all crave for enough fuel to keep us alive,
but there is always that unfinished thought,
which suffers from a premature end.
When I'm lost in a land of windstorms,
I yearn to have the strength of Zephyrus,
hoping my soft whispers are not
misunderstood among self centred gusts.
I'll always be an atonement of nature,
as everything I long to do is a curse of selflessness.
Sunrise is the most stunning 'hello,'
whilst sunset is the most magnificent 'goodbye.'
But you are never guaranteed daydreams at dawn,
nor clarity of compassion at dusk,
so I'll keep blowing like a gentle breeze,
as no matter in which direction the winds blow,
I'll keep hope in finding a way home.
T i m e stops for no one,
as searing seconds swerve
through seasonal squalls,
thawing frost that sleeps upon
the necks of onyx roses,
where pain is etched in skeletal sins~
across pruned plumes,
fleeting through amethyst air,
merged in changing frequencies
of wind and waves,
carrying ballads of a bruised bluebird.
But I have long known grief,
and I’ve tasted the bittersweet
cocktails of life and love.
I am s i l e n c e,
swirling amidst the wheels
of dusk and dawn,
like the unseen flares
of blazing boulevards,
for I am made from ashes of steel,
strong to the eyes
that see not beyond bleeding sighs.
I waltz faster than
my fears can grasp,
the obsidian t e a r s of petals,
leaving each abstract sunset
sketched in acrylics
on murky meadows,
thriving with grieving geraniums.
O beloved moon,
I see lakes of Elysium
through the chained windows
of my tortured tower.
I breathe against the
crystalline concoctions
composed from the ink
of curved constellations,
erasing kismet calligraphies,
cluttered with chaotic conclusions,
sailing toward an astrological sphere,
where colors of love
run free against
the gravity of diabolical dust,
designed on rings of rust.
So let me save the twilight sage,
before the last drop of wintry rage
is no longer tamed by the
treacherous tongue of fate,
for I am armored against
the demonic drumrolls,
luring the splitting sea-surge
to a bioluminescent shore
where Lucifer’s footsteps linger,
caressing the edges of snakeskin,
mimicking merciless mantras
of Medusa melodies,
orchestrated in seething strings,
oblivious to the t r u t h
that I am more than
a wounded warrior,
dressed in whimsical wisterias.
I’ve learned to let go
of every faltering feather,
that blinded me,
pushing my patience
into a labyrinth of tilted tulips,
tainted with twisted tones
and hues of hypocrisy.
Remember,
I am more than the splitting paranoia,
running through corridors of uncertainty,
I am flashlights in the monsoon sky~
emanating petrichor pastels
upon nocturnal nightingales,
singing without words,
dreaming amidst trickling chords.
~ and this is the truth of trembling t i m e
that halts not for the sleeping supernovas ~
Swirling gases and gigantic clusters of floating rock
black-holes and supernovas and radioactive dust,
the pinnacle of all imagination living magic and void from adaptation or joint celebration
gravity's fabric cuddling the weight of all creation.
Spinning in numb service for the unknown purpose
the cornucopia of wonder and fear.
Will the mind even conjure the wisdom of thou?
desperately waiting for reason seeking out?
Or shall we ever wallow in worn theory,
waiting for a trained genius to add to this story
Or will death allow the cheat giving us our comforting complete,
or will we retreat back to logic's feet and find we are just
mere accident all bacteria, atoms just freaks!
Either way it's magic and welcome when in nothing.
the smashing of need the screaming of invention and happening
the living canvas ever added and amended, ever made and forgotten.
Consumed and cemented a dancing pattern each to their own the
Ceaseless ripples of organized chaos drift us more from home.
And every conclusion the same the black hole and life again.
I dwell in a high-rise apartment dwelling
That faces a gigantic air travel bureau building.
A bureau building with a mega mirrorred front,
thus its frontage a gigantic jumbo-sized mirror.
In the twilight hours of violet dusk or dawn,
the entire huge apartment flats
reflected on its mirrorred walls.
One can see the reflections
of the whole neighbourhood
All the faces peeping in from their windows
All the people hanging around
on their balconies and terrace
And if doors are left ajar
whatever is going on inside
their flats reflected indiscriminately
on the travel agency's massive mirrors as well!
It is quite a sight to see
esp for idle peeking, prying eyes.
Folks thus have to be conscientious
about their doings in full view...
But at midnight if you chance to wake up,
the giant mirrors reflect a spectacular sight!
The moon on a moonlit night
or starry heavens as
diamond specks of light!
Thus a huge patch of heaven
itself reflected upon it
Novas, supernovas, nebulas,
ooh, the shooting stars in God's Galaxy
all reflected magnificiently
upon the mirrorred walls!!
Fine shine, O' giant mirror, mirror
literally on the wall
But I'd rather you don't reflect
my unveiled form at all.
For I prefer being the invisible
belle of the hall....
search for oddities
into space and time we squeeze
eons can be seen
through highly polished mirrors
on bitter cold night so clear
'The Accident' morphs
dim mysterious brown dwarf
skimming stellar turf
leaving possibilities
constitutes dark energies
lustrous Milky Way
is where we reside today
facing come what may
dusty gas, huge black holes hide
where galactic center glides
interstellar bliss
where supernovas exist
fireworks not to miss
proves the cosmos are alive
eternity will survive
for the non-earth bound
cosmic microwave background
has now hung around
over fourteen billion years
since Great Expansion appeared
sky watching sessions
cosmic history lessons
answering questions
when the universe was born
how our galaxy was formed
sitting in the dark
with conditions often stark
tracing heaven's arc
watching the vast cosmos flow
where true dreamers choose to go
Of paper and Ink
Warriors of words written in a land
Of Blood and broken toys
Jet black things
Set ice plains and caviar
Standing long into the starry night
Eyes gone blind to the images and deities
Of families and finalities
Of bones that drum
All fall in distant regard
The night is rip asunder
The echo of thunder
Rain driven storms of raveages and revenge
Fires of ice Buring the nation at its core
Alight of midnight sky like supernovas
Blown in a rage of the blind, a land of the blind
A mad god in a nation
Torn into clans
Rise and go to war
Rape of the natural landscapes
Televised and television wasted places
Vision-scapes in division of man and land
The pulse of blood
The heart beat
That bleeds on paper and ink
Roads to dreams a nation in turn
As this nation burns
What's
better
than gold?
A heart of
gold and
any
golden
rule
Thus
donot
over the
mined
thing drool.
What's
better
than
pearls?
Any pearls
of wisdom
grant the
oyster
some
freedom!
What's
better
than
diamonds
Supernovas
that dazzle
like
them
So don't
you fret if
you can't
afford
the earthly
underground
gem.
What's
better
than
rubies?
Crimson
roses and
rosy lips
I do, and
maybe
you too
already
have them!
What's
better
than
emeralds?
Feline eyes
glowing in
the dark.
Ah Lord!
That
fluorescent
spark!
What's
better
than silver?
The hope
that every
cloud has
a silver
lining
Even
miners
they don't
enjoy the
mining.
What's better than amber?
Amber eyes shining like embers.
In God's design variety of
eyeball shades
Ah the licorice eyed maidens
and maids!
And whether it be
zircon or amethyst
Sapphire or lapis lazuli
Agate, opal or tanzanite
what tis far better
than all these gems put
together
is anyone known as 'a gem of
a person'.
For instance it's upto you
to transcend flesh and blood
and be a guiding star
for the transient travellers that
we are.
You and I are stardust
unseen specks
hurled from unknown supernovas
exploding in deep space
an eternity away, ago
carried away on galactic winds
cosmic dandelions
scattered through limitless night
a universe apart
random
yet converging
over millions, billions, of years
all the galaxies, stars, gods
along the way
somehow indifferent to our passage
or conspiring to let us move on
an endless drift
until
we were pulled by gravitation
onto a tiny young planet
a speck, like us, in space
one in untold trillions
atoms, particles, dust
now alighted
assembled
scrambled
reassembled
randomly
patiently
through eons
into
you
me
and a universe shrunk
to that one spot on this earth
where our paths crossed
a one-in-an-infinity chance
destiny over impossibility
The nature of our spiral nebulae or Milky Way,
is the size of our universe from where we stay.
Believing that our nebulae is relatively small,
Astronomer Curtis declared a far bigger call.
Billions of galaxies much larger and distant,
the scale of the universe, 1921 relevant.
Island universes in the trillions,
supernovas outshine galaxies in brilliance.
Another great debate by Huxley at that time,
upholding the biblical creation in us to refine.
To him self affirming the preference to be an ape,
giving Darwin’s theory the wishing shape.
In letters of war between Burke and Thomas Paine,
the debate in differences of conservatism,
and the misleading perception of progressivism.
After 2021 in lockdown giving nature a break,
wildlife’s resources in reviving stake.
The new debate now in consideration geographic,
3 working days and nights, 4 days no traffic.
Zero hours at sunrise, 12 at dawn lights mean,
nature hours including month thirteen.
The ultimate provider in absolute respect,
labor camp for restoring wasteland to correct.
Human independence and it’s grow of sacrifice,
the caring things of nature love that satisfies.
We fall Hard and steady
Down dimensions unknown
Down, each turn and drop
We turn and tremble, teeming with tingling terrors
Nightmares fuel
Combust and flare outwards until nothing can contain it
We fall
We tumble, down further
Banging, bashing, crashing into oblivion
We tornado outwards, from within
Our hearts break and bend, and release their burdens
They blow like bombs
Our minds burst, and burn like supernovas
Enveloping all that is, and will ever be with blinding light
Eyes scorched and hearts immolated
We climb, turn and tumble
Bumble like buffoons
We soar ever higher, becoming ever lighter
We fly like jet fighters
Higher and higher still
Above the atmosphere
Float… suspended in stillness
Until we blossom and spread like wildfire
Flowering, showering, we sow our stardust seeds
We turn, stumble, and reach
We fall, like meteors, into each other’s orbit
Until collapse