Long Tense Poems
Long Tense Poems. Below are the most popular long Tense by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tense poems by poem length and keyword.
Come to these shores
Dwell and explore
See how time tells
Glimpse soul that dwells
Dance of pure nerves
As love now serves
In a sure light
Bold cause put right
Love wears a face
Joy knows sweet grace
Touch in clear tense
Knows willing sense
Thrill as joy spins
Waves deep within
Wit fashions fest
Zest flavours quest
Wise ways work well
Yes soul now spells
A play to cast
Right here at last
Journey with grace
Sparks as waves trace
Time to feel jazz
Space in deep nest
Know sojourn child
Meek love styles wild
Pique fond esteem
Love mingles dream
Leon Enriquez
30 October 2017
Singapore
They're about.
Pushing and pulling their wares.
A little alcohol, a bit of your money.
Come join us! We have more for you.
Some cannabis, how about a touch of meth?
Addicted, disabled and elderly people at the
whim of those who would take money for
their own especial use.
I walk by after reporting, knowing that I must detach.
The fear is gone.
I live in the midst of sadness.
But, I am shaken to the core.
With a feeling of failure.
Walking away with prayers for all those involved.
A realization that it's too big.
They will hit bottom, but many innocents have
been affected.
Such is life?
S trange is the way unbound mind hovers, I don’t steer
T rapped in insecurity web I tread life in lurking fear
A t times I feel someone trails, my tense sense strains
L ook out, but find no one, the eerie feeling remains
K nowing fear won’t go away if I don’t face the stalker
E xplore boldly I must, encounter the equipoise breaker
R esolving strongly in impulse I look back in the hollow
S talking me I perceive is the creepy mind in my shadow.
September 2, 2021
Contest : Message In An Acrostic 2
Sponsor : Kim Rodrigues
Things like that happen all the time.
I once spent hours looking for a cat which slept unlost
in a spare room he wasn’t allowed in.
A single thump on the wrong ceiling
told me he was present - if not correct - and ready for life.
And I could sleep.
The thing is, the unsuspected tears through strategies
like meteors off course.
For instance, I dream myself in colour.
Hair - brown, frame - tense in clothes donated
uncharitably and long ago to the young and retro.
I awake not to the candlelight of sepia
but an intense digital glare. Hair-white,
skin toned by stuff I can’t afford.
You could argue that, in reality,
I sleep lithe and dark in a locked room,
alive somewhere after nine pm and halfway
through something I was watching.
Mirrors are chances to rethink.
Consider all the times you observed yourself
contemplating death, divorce,
or what it means to waive defences against
life which occupies you - curls up till it’s ready for itself.
Next time you stare into your eyes,
dare to rummage through the jumbled stuff.
That suit is there, with its impossible
zips and in-stripes – already bagged
with your coloured hair and the way you sigh
or smile or cry in glass.
My dreams are seldom of what happened.
Often, I am happy at last with a man I couldn’t have,
or stepping out in impossible heels
and a perfect sense of just how good I look.
The rubbish chute of years does not begin
from the rooms where I sleep.
Do not fear my dear,
I am your true friend;
You will see me near
When your time's at end;
This you can depend.
Be aware I come,
To forfeit all tense;
Bring closure to sum,
Suspend odd bad sense;
Yet, why feel so dense?
Yes I end old trends,
I know what's your name;
I come as your friend,
Square and sum life's game;
Fetch you just the same.
I will guide you home,
Take your soul away;
Fear need never roam,
Watch me make your day;
Cut the cord from play.
My mantra sounds clear,
I am death that speaks;
Be fearless my dear,
Heaven is your peak;
Love is what you seek.
So let's go quickly,
Joy and peace await;
Leave all things worldly,
Breeze through this last gate;
Embrace your sure fate.
Yes take a good look,
See with a clear mind;
Last page of your book,
Surrender in kind;
Leave this world behind.
Leon Enriquez
31 May 2017
Singapore
My Angel she walks many miles with me
Through stormy roads , footprints I see
I experience near death, It swarms! Hence!
Beauteous the wings beneath my soul, although feelings tense
I endeavor the road day by day, I see oblivious skies
She rides the clouds when away from my soul, she flies
I awake each day she will comfort my being
And she'll call my name someday to the calling
For now reflections set my very mood
And her wings carry me as they protrude
Through thick and thin I'll cherish the beauty of thought
And recollect the spirits charming me with her love
Remembering love can't be bought
God's love promises us the real thing to comfort time
The angels from the heavens knocking at the door- take us sometime
Lol
(Dedication: For Paul Callus)
Time and space dance
Sorrow meets cheer
Sync with tact
Joy ever fades
Nothing much remains
Dust gathers
Joy even tempts
Offers nothing new
Dinosaur bones
Charm feeds
Empty charade
No escapade
Charm leaks
Messy tirade
Lament in loss
Words come
Echoes fling
Not much done
Words leave
Takeaway noise
Not much gain
Write in rhymes
Sign a song
Mind the glitch
Write in lines
Reason a poise
Mind the route
End game pulse
Matching
Point for point
End game tense
Cleaning up
Awkward feel
Haiku nature
Senryu posture
Cinqku textures
Fibonacci pulse
Strain in void
Quantum creation
Leon Enriquez
10 Apr 2014
Singapore
Midst efforts to resolve a viral pandemic
Causing global illness and death epidemic
As we process the merits of our heartfelt fears
Mixed with worry, doubt, dread, anger, and sometimes tears
Let’s not forget about the virgin who conceived
A child sent from God, so our sins could be relieved.
As we shelter in our places of seclusion
Where once welcomed visits are now an intrusion
As we inhale and exhale covered by our mask
While simple routines are now a cumbersome task
Let’s recall that to the virgin a child was born
Who would bring hope, joy, and peace to a world forlorn
When six feet apart striving for social distance
Has become the new normal of our existence
When our multiple efforts of sanitation
Instigates within us constant aggravation
Visit the manger, see Joseph and his betrothed
Gaze upon the child who in swaddling rags was clothed
When the news of more COVID cases scours the land
When the ones who govern hand down a new demand
When after each encounter we wash our hands clean
As we hope and pray each day for a new vaccine
Listen to the voices of the angelic throng
Announcing the Messiah’s presence in their song
As new stipulations create family strain
And events occur causing economic pain
When we come in close contact with those infected
Then obey rules of quarantine as directed
Let’s treasure the glorious news of a savior
Who came to remedy our sinful behavior
When we grieve a cherished friend or loved one who dies
And we can’t properly gather to say goodbyes
When we want to weep and give each other a hug
But we are restricted to a stare and a shrug
Let’s join the angels in praising the Prince of Peace
For in His grace and mercy we will find release
When each retail store bears the sign “masks are required”
And every adventure makes us tense and tired
When we learn that someone had a positive test
And we retreat to our homes for much needed rest
Let’s treasure Jesus, ponder His truth in our heart
With fresh faith in Him tomorrow a new day start
Midst our expressed concerns about the world’s future
Worrying that the wounds are too deep to suture
When mental anguish and fear are out of control
When encouraging words lack power to console
Recall that our purpose is to give Christ glory
And our mission is to propagate His story
Flipped hourglass: a slipped tide or a passed second,
Has moved, like drop in a flowing river, beckoned;
Hourglass, an automaton, cannot run itself,
Humans must be at its beck and call, like an elf...
Flipped hourglass: a slipped tide or a passed second,
Has moved, like drop in a flowing river, beckoned;
Hourglass, an automaton, cannot run itself,
Humans must be at its beck-and-call, like an elf...
Times bind; we are bound; we at the mercy of time;
Wrist watch ties us; rather, us tying its chill chime;
With time we slip; unable to follow its flow,
Flipping with it we flip; our movements being slow...
Doesn't flip hourglass denote human existence?
With its fleeting, flowing and flopping in tight, tense;
Sand filled in is like air puffed up in our body,
Leak enough to leave the clock and body, shoddy...!
I had an hourglass, so smart-looking, glamorous!
I admired its function, and almost stood speechless;
My obligations and dead-lines remained undone,
Sand slipped; I slipped with it unknowingly; Like fun...!
Flowing with the time we could flow the time for us,
Buddha said, none can dip in the same river twice;
Time is fix flex flux; changing, churning, endlessly,
Pleads us to care it; keep going eternally...!
28 January 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 28 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
What does it mean to you
to be loved
right here
where you live and breathe,
eat and occasionally shower?
What value would you give
our investments of mutual regard?
Do you know
you can love
and be loved
for and as who you are right now?
And for that sainted sinner
you inevitably will become,
and for all those you have been
since first I laid eyes on you,
and smelled you,
and listened for your still small
and large voices.
Love cannot be reduced
and confined
to just one tense,
or even two
with those we are committed to
and for;
And best spreads across
all four seasons
of sacred change.
Love is limited
only by mistrusting imagination,
WinLose dissonant assumption,
reductions of sacred organic integrity
to secular strategic mendacity,
deducted images distancing us
confining what I know and feel
for you and us up to now,
Not disregarding
or over-valuing
past and potential future
wealth for what feels safe for us today
to believe and hope,
our reviving health
tomorrow.
When winters hand out plastic bottled lemon juice
and grieving onions
too long endured,
I would like to trade some for limes
and grateful southern summer garlic
if you have those
to share.
Together
we might make lemon-lime local aid
and add community's basic bullion
for regenerate harvest
building stone multiculturing soup,
green vegetarian
and redmeat simmering stews.
When life hands us lemons
and FixIt unpeeling onions
Earth invites rebirthing us
to re-imagine all four seasons
and three tenses together
our re-creolizing cacophany
with restoring beverage
of healthy re-changing choice
for loving peace as resilient ecojustice.
Love of who and what,
when and where,
and why until just us again,
revisiting community polycultural outdoor worship
during summer health climax
And on through fall harvest,
and yet another inevitable winterish lemon
of creolizing discontent,
stuck inside
liturgical long-range extended family garden planning
plotting sun and water worshiping community love redevelopment,
global song and dance sacred restoration,
healthy-wealth of peace
As integrity of love
for WinWin organic choices
changing four-seasons from above
as below,
without
as within.