Long Themes Poems
Long Themes Poems. Below are the most popular long Themes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Themes poems by poem length and keyword.
Inspired to present its essence wondrously
along endowed poetic prowess midst words’ magnificence
my heart indites through light, free, or blank verse prayerfully
furthermore in spiritual rhymes, illumined by divine iridescence…
With triumphant love of God, I am propped to proclaim constantly
His awesome kindness as well as gracious compassion-sense
gripping my soul before I turned 19 in 1988, unforgettably…
when by faith I indeed experienced His very presence.
Yes, Christ’s love* prevails over my writing themes gloriously
having been loaded with His mercy and truth of caring prevalence
thus, witnessing His love beyond the 9-11-2018 global news historically
I penned a declaration to exalt my God, thanking Him for His love’s opulence.
*Ephesians 3:19 …Know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fullness of God.
July 14, 2020
3rd place, "Views For Poems" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Funom Makama; judged on 7/17/2020.
Details Required:
Poem name: “Love of God Am I”
Views as of July 14, 2020: 1,988
Poetry form: Blank verse
Date of Publication: 09/11/2018
Joy of Christmas tolls hooray, buoying elation of Santa’s sleigh
As celebrating the birth of almighty sacred church bells ring
Reverberating in melodic music ~ chiming, jingling merry way
Halls of happiness aptly display, glittering décor of golden inlay
Where in rhythms of pious hymns carolers gaily dance and sing
Joy of Christmas tolls hooray, buoying elation of Santa’s sleigh
Around tree’s ornamental arrays children sway, pry, and play
While echoing from heartbeats of glory pulses of prayers ding
Reverberating in melodic music ~ chiming, jingling merry way
Moonlit stars scintillate glaze of silent night’s cheerful-- yay!
Streaming themes of angelic euphony, praising heavenly king
Joy of Christmas tolls hooray, buoying elation of Santa’s sleigh
Boughs of green holly, donning red berries, venerate holy day
Conferring glee in blessings of divinity, as spiritual rhythms swing
Reverberating in melodic music ~ chiming, jingling merry way
Invoking eternity in wreaths of flowers devotees earnestly pray
As faithful cling to missives of peace the beloved angels bring
Joy of Christmas tolls hooray, buoying elation of Santa’s sleigh
Reverberating in melodic music ~ chiming, jingling merry way
December 26, 2020
Poem of the day on December 27, 2020
Placed 1st: Deck the halls poetry contest by Joseph May
Image of Nature Landscape Field provided by Pixabay
We Are
Oftentimes my internal oneness saunters,
boosting stones wouldst enthuse convictions path ...
dawdling tenuous themes, elucidate trim unsung paean
netted amongst privileged unencumbered digits. Cruising
amidst parallel Airy's, strolling side by side atop pristine pastoral
façade.
Nigh, svelte wheatfields chic hints of amber,
suffering praises of ripening, firm siege prime morsels chaff
*semovedly stacks hist steers -- equal episode,
e'er stable glass menagerie of fulvous goldfishes prithee dawns
root tendrils terracotta arms neath ... endless sea embargo some
cortex.
Surreptitious door mouse induced suspense,
hearkens mellifluous exaltation of cageless larks, their sumptuous climb of
blue mountainous air and rocky white mists, natheless,
hither aught alow met needs, tasty tidbits stead flights mortal foe
witherward naught. Ascents per food ... peradventure *yare, *maugre
fatal.
Each in every aspect, overcomers that came over, yardbirds exercising perseverance, respectively ... Creator tenet our peace.
*semovedly: separated
*yare: nimble
*maugre: in spite of
2021 May 21
*1st Place*
What Brings You Peace
~~Chantelle Anne Cooke: Judged 2021 May 23
Free me from servitude of constraining boundaries
Guiding life’s journey, questing meadows pristine,
Beyond void of nothingness, afar hills of misery,
Rescuing from oblivion, from doorways of abyss,
From pathos of mortality, from realm so ordinary,
Take me, sweet fairy, beyond world of drudgery.
Thrusting spirit of vitality, show me where to exit,
For verdant prairies burbling streams of serenity
Buoying ambrosial instincts of ethereal themes,
Seeking supernatural intrigue of esoteric dreams
Vying ecstatic feelings blossoming dawns of bliss;
Take me, sweet fairy, to the frontiers of tranquility.
Navigate me away from emptiness roiling destiny,
Away from the distraught flaunting pride egoistic,
Away from ambitions yearning things materialistic
On the wings of enlightenment leading to harmony,
Transporting to transcendence~ heavenly, idyllic;
Take me, sweet fairy, to peacefulness of sanctity.
Lift me above darkness of life’s tenebrous clouds,
Enlighten visage of impercipient, ignorant shrouds,
Attaining equilibrium within purpose and meaning
Discarding grievances that steal virtuous equities;
Take me to nirvana ~ to paradise of utopian peace,
Take me, sweet fairy, to domain of blissful ecstasy.
September 15, 2022
Placed 1st: Pick-A-Title, Vol 32 – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Take Me to Nirvana
Don’t Talk About It—Write About It
As a writer and a poet, sometimes people ask me how I
do, what I do, every day as I research themes and topics
for poems or prose works that I want to write about and
develop for potential publication in the future.
The “how I do” and the “what I do” with regard to my
everyday writing on any given theme or group of themes
are predicated on the active notion that I don’t, as a rule,
talk idly about people, topics or themes per se, rather I go
ahead and focus exactly on a certain theme or subject of
interest, and then I begin to write about it.
What’s the magic formula for doing all of this research
and active committed work associated with professional
writing? The answer can be summarized in two words:
Hard Work! If one is not willing to engage and to put the
effort and work into any certain writing endeavor, a true
quality writing product won’t be the result.
I write because I enjoy writing very much. Poetry is the
one literary undertaking that I like to do the most. I find
often that writing poetry has helped me to focus, and then
to write on given ideas, topics or themes more succinctly.
When a person sees a book of poetry that has, for example,
200 poems listed in it, just think of each poem, in essence,
as its very own story.
Concerning the infamous “Writer’s Block” syndrome, all
I can say is that a writer or any aspiring writer just needs
to keep working away at their various writing efforts and
never give up. Having the requisite skills and talent to be
an effective and interesting writer, poet, or novelist are a
given. Yet, one also needs a high degree of raw moxie and
a measure of commitment and steadfastness too, in order
to see any writing venture or product to its end point, and
especially toward eventual publication.
My final closing thought concerning the writing of poetry
and prose, and any other literary endeavors, in general, is:
Don’t Talk About It—Write About It!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
December 31, 2018 (Narrative)
In a world of mellifluous dreams,
Where whispers embrace in soft moonbeams,
A moiety of verses, murmuring in rhyme,
Revealing the secrets of an arcane time
Nemesis, the muse, with susurrous breath,
Weaving tales of love and death,
Her voice, a sigh, a melancholy strain,
As she plucks the strings with a gentle domain.
Ensnared in the web of her melodic spell,
Lost in the music, where emotions dwell.
Strumming the chords of passion and desire,
Her ariose melodies set hearts afire.
Maundering through realms of imagination
She paints landscapes of exotic charm.
Guiding listeners through a mystical visitation.
Where dreams acquire a form.
In her lulls, the world finds peace.
As the lilting notes caress and increase.
A symphony of emotions, a dance of hearts,
Her music is a balm that heals and imparts
With every strum, she ignites a fire.
These passions burn and inspire.
Her melodies are such whispers in the night.
Illuminate the darkness, bringing forth light.
In this realm of mellifluous dreams,
She weaves a tapestry of enchanting themes.
Her voice, a vessel of emotions soaring high,
Transcending boundaries and reaching the sky.
Her music, a language that knows no bounds,
Connecting souls and making hearts resound.
In the realm of mellifluous dreams,
Where secrets unravel and hope redeems,
Her melodies, such whispers in the breeze,
Bestow solace and joy, putting minds at ease.
In the realm of mellifluous dreams,
She helms supreme, and the muse schemes
1st place contest winner
As dark gives way
Joy hands light the key
To open the dawn of a new day
As she feels the moment long foresee
Friends, extend to her a wish of will today
From my heart-- a song
Not a call and response or an opera
Speed would bless you forever really long
Like look(s) are kept anew in graph by the camera
Noting the difference in stages of being young
My hands play sounds
In its closet of secret melody
Though eyes can't see it abounds
But ears enjoy how it throbs into rhapsody
Leaving most hearts wondering themes it expounds
All the time reply
Be happy and have fun
Against what hindrances bely
Knowing this hour will run till none
Enjoy all the bliss just don't go high
A bell to give different tones
Bass or tenor; sonorous or high pitch
Adhere thy steps of its dictates and hones
Keenly along changes even though it bewitch
Err glaring at everyone yet, you today: thou owns
Add contrast to become skillful
Blending true atmosphere--natural
As the backdrop produces stirs so willful
Keeping joy at heart and wishes in mind off general
Energizing the grace of coming true singing... wonderful!
May no one use on you RIP
Come what may unless thou grows old
Even when circumstances bring about the need to tip
For it all as part of concern to strategically uphold
Rather make it for anyone an unreturned trip
Amen??
Happy birthday dearest sister, friend and buddy
Dear Budding Poet,
Modern poetry to me is the reflection of the chaos and
declining intolerance of modern times. It expresses the pent-up
emotions writhing in complexity trying to embrace our beautiful lives.
I know you’re a budding poet pining to express yourself and
aspiring to make a mark. My advice to you would
be to listen to your heart and transcribe in your own way what
it says. It’ll become a poem because your heart is the window
on the world through which you perceive the human values taking
intricate shapes, yarns of emotions weaving tapestry of joy
and grief, and the beauty of life designing ecstasy in your mind.
Don't ever close this window. You look out at the pristine
nature and absorb the elegance it frames. You would reach
the realm of exaltation when your mind would swim on
imagination. Let it flow in its own course meandering through
the landscape of your times. Wake up the muse in you and
let it float. You’ll then find formless blocks of words appear
as imagery. You need to use your pen to sculpt from these
the piece of art, your poetry.
Poetry in my life is like a perennial fountain drenching my
parched mind, drowning my sorrow, draining my tears
and satiating me with joy of creation.
My favorite themes : nature, love, emotions, fantasy,
introspection, desire, dream.
My favorite reference sources : www. howmanysyllables.com,
Cliché Finder, Thesaurus, www.rhymezone.com.
Titles of my favorite poems I’ve written (in order of preference) :
Atmospheric Pressure, Your Lacustrine Beauty, Through
The Opaque Night, Flowing Silence, As I was Walking In The Snow,
Searching You, Sign of Times, Kite Flies Away From Concrete
Jungle, Opening The Mind’s Petals, Embrace of Quietus.
My literary background : I’m an Earth Scientist having a doctorate
degree, published many scientific papers , received national
awards for research. My parents who were teachers of
literature infused in me the love for poetry. I started writing poetry
from high school days, published 4 books of poems.
Suggestion for book title : “The making of a poet”,
“Poems in search of a poet”.
May, 23, 2018.
People in love and desire,
To look at all hidden,come aware,
All in hidden here and there,
To be hidden,their desire,
Being hidden the first beauty,
Hidden God,the best beauty,
Wind hidden,it's beauty,
A kind pa,also a beauty,
The sound rhythm,is beauty,
The soul system,a beauty,
The first kiss hidden,a life beauty,
The sex hidden,brings child beauty,
Shyness,hidden,the face beauty,
The giving hands hidden,it's beauty,
The hidden heavens not known more beauty,
The hell hidden but known souls no beauty,
The joints of seven seas,a hidden beauty,
The seven wonders of the world no beauty,
But a tiny ant hidden,more and more beauty,
The blooming of figs,rare,it's beauty,
The mating of crows,unaware is beauty,
The themes of poems hidden bring beauty,
Every things hidden like God adding beauty!
01.20.2015
(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)
The Candyman Can’t
Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not. We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.
One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole. Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner. Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.
The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm? Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars? How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm? The problem goes away!
This ruse is known as “equity”. It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason. What to do? Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers. Such affairs
drag on for years. The lawyers? They get theirs!)
Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now. It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices. Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street? He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”
But Bridgman lost. One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough. Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey. The latter
has lots of lowly types. It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.