Long Tabled Poems

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


Premium Member Revelations

A numbness the dull orange of safety cones toddles through him, twists 
the upright screw shrink-wrap tight, and clamps him to the tabled edge
upon the realization his 
       newest mistake came,
       not when his prized blue
       & white marbled rubber ball
       now bouncing down a steep hill
       paved with pale, dead, hardened skin
       on its trek towards the teeth of a storm drain
       to startle hurricane in hibernation, slipped his sweaty
palm’s fool-proof grip, but when he dug it up from its grave on a proven 
to be regrettable whim in the first place, failing to obtain all mandatory
permits required for such a global undertaking.


Premium Member Show Us the Light

Rudderless we roam hinterland
Knowing not in truth, who we are
From God’s light, we’ve drifted afar

Love bereft, life’s listless and bland
Objects of desire, bring but pain
Our life struggle has been in vain

Do as You will but hold our hand
Oh God, it’s You we’re speaking to
Please heal our soul and make us new

Caress divine, we understand
When no agenda is tabled
We’re instantly love enabled

Take us God, to the promised land
Left to ourselves, we will blunder
Make us feel silent bliss thunder

Rudderless we roam hinterland
Love bereft, life’s listless and bland 
Do as You will but hold our hand
Caress divine, we understand
Take us God, to the promised land

06-April-2023

Constanza (invented by Connie Marcum Wong)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member As we metamorphose

We find ourself centred in a bliss storm,
mantras as hymns playing in the background,
wherein all we do is simply conform,
breathing in grace as we are twirled around.
Incompatible with maverick mind,
we now dwell in the heart, bliss energised,
with soft pulsations of silence aligned,
reach by breath by kundalini baptised.
Witnessing ebb and flow of tides in time,
we embrace and release each sensation,
there being no mountains we wish to climb,
being one with the cosmic vibration.
Dwelling in peace and free from commotion,
we weave our way through this life in motion.

We weave our way through this life in motion,
with the here and now our destination,
sipping slowly love’s magical potion,
poised in the vibrant void of cessation.
As a character in this lucid dream,
as the dreamer and dreamed, we are the all,
wherein as we ride a lustrous moonbeam,
heart’s the epicentre of the bliss squall.
We know life as impulsed will run its course,
which we had signed up for but need no more,
so simply by renouncing use of force,
ceasing to weigh and size, we keep no score.
Living mindfully as of need not greed,
ego steps away as love takes the lead.

Ego steps away as love takes the lead
and as false identity drops away,
we are from bondage to space and time freed,
transcending this earth vessel made of clay.
We behold our true Self as living light,
one without a second, feeling complete,
mirroring God’s heartbeat, filled with delight,
is-ness of being-ness as such upbeat.
Merging with God in the totality,
even though no agenda is tabled,
we return here back to duality,
to be more fully wisdom enabled.
As God’s presence fills our organic form,
we find ourself centred in a bliss storm.

The Old Battle Axe and Her Hunchbacked Henchwomen

Matriarch mastermind manipulated minions 
rang their hells bells signifying 
damned to traverse highway to hell
dirty deeds done dirt cheap
(names changed fo' malady to remain anonymous,
cuz they got thunderstruck
with psychological trauma).

Preface:
Upon bitterly cold dawning hours of January 2000, 
the Harns family (not actual name of real persons 
constituting yours truly
mine wife and at that time 
deux darling very young daughters)
desperately sought place to live. 

Neon Swat Team (an independent realtor) politely 
informed us (meaning myself and the missus), our 
family lease would not be renewable. 

The reason without a rhyme?

Ever since events initially laid forth as poem,
I delightfully witnessed birth of daughter 
number two February 4th, 1999, (whose existence this 
papa helped beget approximately nine months prior), 
now twenty two plus years passed rendering contractual 
non-binding obligation null and void - whew. 

Even though then barely tipping scales at less than ten 
pounds of flesh, (this bundle of sugar, spice and everything 
nice, especially when adorned in pink bows inclusive), 
she warranted unlawful occupancy capacity subsequently 
exceeding one plus bedroom apartment in Schwenksville, 
Pennsylvania.

Body quasi poetic/prosaic
minimally couched, sunk, tabled... 
within wordy  mosaic:

We reckoned to live temporarily at premises vacated by 
mother in law from hell (since recent death of her husband, 
whose after life settled him in Willoughby) domicile situated 
at 1148 Tree Green Lane (a cozy and lazy keystone chic 
urban outfitted hamlet tucked into totally tubular foothills of 
Venn Palley, Pennsylvania), a nook of quaintness plum 
perfect where rivers Ratford Upon Savon converged.

Premium Member Autumn Awakes

*Image of Indiana History by Giphy.
Autumn Awakes

Rustling ochre, crimson leaves all daylong,
A coolness settles, shorter days advanced,
Easterlies, westerlies, tradewinds strong,

Southward birds fly, so parts summer birdsong,
Mid leaves lay spiked beech, acorn--care enhanced,
Rustling ochre, crimson leaves all daylong,

Sweetness in brambles flourished berries throng,
Black, elder, wild rasp--touched tastebuds danced,
Easterlies, westerlies, tradewinds strong,

Favored spots, here and there, all lists are long,
'Tis time hearts invent for landscape has entranced,
Rustling ochre, crimson leaves all daylong,

Deep verdant Ivy becomes, draped headlong,
Few flowers blooms hugged flown insects instanced,
Easterlies, westerlies, tradewinds strong,

Harvested tabled, prayers blessed belong,
Autumn picturesque, surroundings felt...glanced,
Rustling ochre, crimson leaves all daylong,
Easterlies, westerlies, tradewinds strong.

2020 August 21
*7th Place*
Serenity Awakened
~~Regina McIntosh: Judged 2020 August 27
*1st Place*
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (20)any form any theme
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2020 August 03


The Centre Point

 
 

I arrived breath away, stepping out of a journey waiting not for fellow passengers with tedious conversations about Hemingway, Trump or AI 
hot excitement dissolved into foreboding
pain, then shattered into peace ~ bliss on 
cards, an endless journey had end after all

age equalled superfluous suffering
red ticks on calculus examination page 
point of Excalibur deadly, yet where I 
belonged as spiral, lived a hundred lives 
or more of solitude, silence, secrecy 
dandelions oracled sacred

yin and yang exploded into nothingness 
white black entwined stillness containing 
all sound, shadows, twenty four strands 
when tabulating male and female
fire flashed into stardust figments
a millionth of a blinking second

whether charioteer voted redhead wily 
in a country of dollars or mid-life crisis 
cities were questions embedded in olive branches or fleas on poodles barking twirled with archaeologists, crooks, historians 
status mattered not here

altars in faraway wonderlands where writers recreated Alice whilst filmmakers negotiated budgets ignorant that movies were magical moments bound in akashic records  
here marigolds came before business 
Brahman footprints treading Truth tabled

Singularity contained every loop into Void embracing once upon time a leather jacket 
journey cracked its own codes crumbled fleshless, as eyes became saucer satellites 
explorers, tourists, passengers, all here ~
revelry was lived or meditation mastered 

centre point, brilliant or dull, crude or sharp equals zero-one sequences ~ music, sky, planets, charioteer or train passenger 
all gifted with a choice … return to Earth
or bathe forever in Centred Bliss

Buhari's Poetical Graphics Representation

All efforts tabled on Nigeria;
Experiencing a fortunate miscarriage, 
Feasting Aso rock- a pizzeria 
But never admit it is the cause of this age. 

Upon the solid manifesto, 
That touches all sectors:
Picturing California's Barstow, 
To cajole mandates of the electors. 

Finally, all promises are working... 
Nigerians are glad to vote SAI BABA. 
How beautiful things are shirking! 
Yet, we never cease referencing YORUBA's BONOBO. 

Now, pebbles tear apart the wall to a lowland. 
No sands dare last all days. 
Though, the wall can not withstand
The test of time come the apartness of clays. 

The crevices in the wall:
Is an awaiting lost of hope;
One day, the wall will surely fall. 
Just like acrobats won't last all days on  tightrope. 

The time is no longer right;
The poor and his rights are wrong, 
For there's no one to stand by him. 
Those beautiful hearts; pure and young 
Have been battered and their loves' lights dim. 

Buhari's reign is like what? 
Revelation said it well in his whatnot
And if that be the truth, 
Should we believe, lazy are all youths? 

Why do we fear actions and love words? 
If we never mind, our hens can fly like birds
But we keep living in reliving, 
The leadership orbiting the Africa GIANT's sun outliving... 

The societies expectations--
A reason millions are invested in educations. 
When shall we be tired? 
To relieve those supposed to have retired. 

Just like the withered leaves bring
Blessings unto tree to renew its strength. 
The odd flowers introduce the spring 
And relinquished fortitude to breath. 

The detached withered leaves 
That have been laid to rest, 
Can never regain life's airfoil
Than enrich the top soil. 

What are meant for backups, 
Ended up been the beautiful  ups. 
One thing unsure is the extent of our grieves, 
All are mere satisfying best. 

Of course, sun shall rise and shines bright on the green lushes, 
Blessing nature with its radiant nutritional solar energy. 
As the aiding glimmer  blushes, 
It shall promote unbelievable synergy. 

But if nights tarry for long, 
Mornings shall come with the healing birdsong... 
Youths, light the nights;
Cohorts, best their rest.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Know a Place

I know of a secret place,
where we may imbibe God’s grace
after giving love our nod,
tiptoeing therein unshod.

Let’s cut to chase, cave of heart,
is where our quest we should start,
invoking bliss magnetism,
to ignite mind-body prism.

First things first, we must be pure,
recognising love’s the cure
to all conflicts in our life;
futile and needless is strife.

If we’re not love enabled,
with narrow fears yet tabled,
knowing not how to behave,
we cannot enter God’s cave.

I know of this secret place,
where we see God face to face;
bliss nectar soul may partake,
once lower mind we forsake.

23-May-2023

This or That, Vol 18 Poetry Contest 
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Form: Jueju

Premium Member Keep It Simple

Keep it simple, our thoughts are befuddled
Lost in the maze, we are delusional
Ego borne cravings are often tabled
Hermit! Show us the true path, factual

Our dilemma such, it is comical 
By spiralling dark thoughts, we are cudgelled
We seek guidance, by direct visual 
Keep it simple, our thoughts are befuddled

The path direct, by love we are cuddled
We rest all knowing experiential
Ego mind such, it will have us muddled 
Lost in the maze, we are delusional

All we need, is love in our arsenal 
Agreeing by divine, to be cajoled
We need patience, the shift is gradual 
Ego borne cravings are often tabled

Truth glowing in our heart, cannot be googled
We are the light, we are the miracle 
Our innocence from heights has now tumbled 
Hermit! Show us the true path, factual

Following love, fragrant and musical
Our centred presence, with bliss thus huddled
Voice of loving conscience infallible
We now stand erect, when once we stumbled 
Keep it simple

26-December-2020

Echoes of Hard Times

I felt it like the storm
I called it my trying times
During my dying time.
In rear times.

But the moon looked at me with pity
As the Sun wished it could dry my tears 
By shining so brightly.

My pain wrapped itself around me
Like a blanket around a suckling child
Without her mother.

Although the stars watched over me 
But couldn’t help with an antidote
For my disease.


I slept so calmly but still dancing to 
the tunes coming from the forest of 
my sorrows like thorns.


I felt the hotness of those tears
As they trickle down my chin
 Without permission.

With both hands I tabled my problems
To the one above, for I know the storm 
Would soon be over.

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