Long Thereupon Poems

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


Premium Member Written in the Stars

“Is this God’s experiment/ in which we have no say/ in which we’re given paradise/ But only for a day”
Lyrics from “Written in the Stars” sung by Elton John and LeAnne Rimes

Three days it was of flirting -
my anticipation growing -
as each time that I saw him,
I felt my spirit glowing
and my entire being
with longing overflowing.

Chorus:
Written in the stars
It was written in the stars
that I’d meet him
and he’d meet me,
but wicked destiny
saw to it that only short and sweet
our paradise would be.

Before he even asked me out,
three long wasted nights went by.
I yearned and yearned for each return
when his sweet brown eyes I’d spy
at the shop wherein I worked.
Brief were our chats…. And then goodbye.

Was he simply gathering nerve?
On day three he set a date;
for the fourth day we’d go out.
I surely didn’t hesitate.
Eagerly that next whole day,
I had to wait and wait and wait.

Chorus (repeat)

First on our date, we went to eat.
Like Cinderella I was feeling.
We drove around a while
while my heart was reeling.
There was not one kiss from me
he needed to be stealing!

Time quickly passed as we made out
in his car on my own street.
His gaze and his caresses
and kisses honey-sweet
were so divine they blew my mind.
But time was oh so fleet.

Chorus (repeat)

Next day he dropped me at my school
and told me thereupon
to Quebec, where he was from,
he was going. . . going . . . gone.
He called a bit and sent some cards,
but our romance did not go on.

Chorus:
Written in the stars
It was written in the stars
that I’d meet him
and he’d meet me,
but wicked destiny
saw to it that only short and sweet
our paradise would be.
Form: Lyric


A Tip From Charon To Thomas Jefferson

Was it just coincidence or the work of hidden powers
that  Jefferson and John Adams passed on within few hours
 on a very weighty date indeed , which was July the fourth,
a  day of celebration uniting  south and north,
and furthermore  a jubilee that fell this selfsame year,
In eighteen twenty-six, a time of joy and cheer?
Monroe, fifth president in line,  died on the selfsame date,
though in his case I have to say he was a few years late.

At length Tom Jefferson woke up from a state like sleep,
and felt the urge to wander off and grant himself a peep.
Would Charon, grave ferryman, let him cross the Stygian brook?
The sullen figure thereupon, with a bleak  and  doleful look,  
warned the hopeful president  he’d be in for a nasty shock
once Charon’s  bark had landed him close to the Plymouth rock..
Though America had outlived wars and then  a mighty slump,
he was less sure of its chances at the blast of the final trump.
It might therefore be wiser  to rest up in heaven or hell
than on earth to witness the toll of the Liberty’ knell.
Form: Burlesque

Premium Member Mirrorless Vision

Reflected light
Shining bright
We look for the source
Of the divine force
Running hither & thither
As thought smog gathers
Upon getting to exhaustion
Of thought precipitation 
We rest in silence 
In childlike innocence 
Within the heart womb
Where lower mind we entomb

Thereupon we see clearly
Mirrorlessly 
That we are the luminescence 
Encased in form of transience
That we may experience duality
As a subset of the one singularity 
A springboard to harness wisdom
By swaying our attention pendulum 
Taking care to remain in stillness 
Free & unfettered one with oneness 
Osmotically imbibing love vibration 
With Ohm in unbroken resonation

05-August-2020
Form: Rhyme

Saving the Gray

Suddenly over the sudden years
I have felt an encumbrance; I sense an albatross -
the weight of sundry uncharted days.
Times I chronicle today as if I were a wax cylinder
and not the broken spool in a cassette tape.

A subfuse goose whispers: Record the sky for me.
I must write ‘sky’ ten times a day
so that the abated will not be forgotten.
Yet how to keep a goose-gray sky fresh
when the days are so metallically shiny and blue?
None recall the monochrome stories
we once told our color-blind children?
They have grown beyond such things.

I have so little time, yet must set down
the legend of little boy gray,
his history has almost passed away,
now eyes have no corners to see.
I knew him well, alas the roads to that tale
are backhoed by cartoon rainbows.

History calls me out into the park
where a lineage of dog  leads the nose
to a yesteryear, a brawling time
free from the wow and weight of newness.
we lived then as historians leading other historians 
upon trails of immemorial sensations.
Meadow larks meant something once,
but now look at them, they strut like roosters 
over the journals of the dead!

History cannot now be cured; it is far gone,
its prone, hump-backed form encumbers 
like a speed bump.
Wordsworth and his damn golden daffodils -
as if we did not know already.

I hover over histories sickbed
my impedimenta droop like the dewlaps
of a prodigal deity.

Only a moment ago history ran through hill and dale
as naked as an infant,
its fields were alive with love, war, and kapok -
a stuffed, full metal jacket; 
a saucily heraldic Kevlar.

I breathe into histories colorless lungs,
there are flocks of moribund geese tucked into each 
alveoli and bronchi,
they have plucked themselves naked,
they long for the ten sky’s 
named in my cinereal histories.

I shoulder this burden of faded things, 
this molting albatross,
all the trappings of then and thereupon,
these I place now in an ash lined
and crumbling 
vault.

A Map of Flesh and Spirit

Particles of sweat, creeping into the
panoramic canvas...
Your body is like a flower vase, crowded
with freshly bloomed flowers of the
arbour of love,
I asked you wherefrom you have brought them...
Silent you were.
Thereupon your fingers were fidgety,
sauntering through my bare back,
A tingling sensation, a mild line of
blood, or I might have been wrong,
for your pale neck was intact when
a uniform oval sign of love was dug there,
by my trembling teeth, undisturbed, unperturbed
by the external disturbances.
Just like Ulysses was searching for his
destination, my hands, in pursuit of your
pleasure hotspot,
around and around would roam aimlessly.
Let us live through the moments, for the
freshly bloomed flowers would be wrinkled again
until they are rejuvenated
by my spurt of love

Sarban Bhattacharya


Premium Member Meditation Tools - Vibration

in the beginning was the word and the sound was Ohm
reverberating Gods will within each lifetron His home
Hirayangarbha split into two magnetic polarities
separation and union manifesting as duality
male-female day-night orbits and tides
both in form and void God resides

beginning with this hypothesis 
until ingrained through synthesis
we recognise all manifestation at play
unity underlying diversity of nature’s ways
we as subject viewing myriad beauteous objects
within mind body too head and heart being separate 

mind body individuality what we may term as the ego
feeling separate from source reluctant to will forgo
flounders about seeking expansion in this dream
oblivious to the life source that within streams
until in silence and innocence surrenders
one with conscience awake in wonder

thereupon sensing thunder soundless
ego aligned with universal consciousness 
we become aware of the inner sound current
imbibing blissful soma nectar within us resident
conjoined by divine fragrance and soft white light
essence of vaporised presence in heightened delight

heart spawns desire manifesting thought and sound
with all being one our emitted vibrations rebound
our mindful eye suffuses desire with pure intent
obtaining at each moment from love consent
enabled thus as He for loving co-creation
with Gods will in seamless resonation

perfect alignment attained what remains
save pristine presence pure and unstained
God concealing and revealing as of His plan
as we walk upon earth with joyfulness and elan
in both emptiness or fullness in every way complete
vibrationally in resonance with God our head at His feet

boundaries blur as we are at once centred everywhere 
whilst acknowledging earth life as being self-aware
rainbow body within beauteous sound and light 
softened attention with compassion our sight
subject object merge as all becomes one
basking in radiance of the spiritual sun

08-April-2021
Form: Rhyme

Reserata Carcerem Xlvii

*Reserata Carcerem XLVII*

Whilom, sate taunted tortoise b' brook;
hoist'd hunger 'n haughty hoofs trod th' nooks
smothered stomach wrought foiled furrow -
sumptuous severity 'n grace glowed.

Thereupon eerie eyes espied;
bounty bowl ñ tide with salient sigh.
Apt acumen whispered t' him th' draw;
rustic rage rent b' pored passion's call.

Sewn strife b' haughty hurls was sore licked,
'n' wished h' th' tumbling tide would t' th' bowl spit,
but moist mirage choked worn wishes,
'til quethe sassy stream's lusty lips.

Anon, grew grousing nymph from waves,
wh' for bounty bowl (bruised brunch) had came.
        '20:07:16:14:51

Note:
a) of ploughed plight.
b) Written apace with Middle English lexis:
i) Whilom - Long ago
ii) Sate - sat
iii) Wrought - made
iv) Thereupon - then
v) Espied - saw
vi) Quethe - say
vii) Anon - Immediately
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) b' - by
ii) 'n - in
iii) ñ - on
iv) t' - to
v) 'n' - and
vi) h' - he
vii) th' - the
viii) 'til - the
ix) wh' - who
d) Poet's vocabulary.
i) Draw - content.
Form: Sonnet

The Gates of Heaven

A devastating loss for us,
is no doubt Heaven’s gain.
Now each and every day for us
will never be the same…
When it seemed her time was certain,
in this life she held so dear,
and that time had drawn the curtain
she knew that God was near…
She taught us all her love of life,
as we’re looking back although,
it seems at times the smallest things
can cast the largest shadow.
Though she knew not, the length of life
as she woke each day at dawn.
Her wisdom, love and kindness
grew inside us thereupon.
Tomorrow was a promise,
that she really meant to keep,
but God had bigger plans it seems
as he laid her down to sleep…

by Cole Banner
Copyright © 2021
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Nearer My God to Thee, Be A Cross That Raises Me

The hour matters none ... for the energies have exhausted.
In the year of our Lord ... nineteen hundred and twelve, April fifteenth.
Writes a future living star ... wish their joys so he may shine.

'Tis to be a deliberate endeavor ... they call life.
An unaccountable ledger of sums ... know he the worth of it.
For in that great beyond is an opened book ... ere his youth.

There'd be certain measures that wretched body ... once unmasked.
Natures of a retired validity ... that aloof vainglory.
Tarries an elusive shell ... the semblance of human sorts.

A cub sponged in denizens hound ... the spoils of settled earth.
Masques of the poor scores yon ... and indifference spared them from their kind.
Their pain slices him whole ... in this grand finale of truth.

The role he crawl from under ... frees a den's claimed orphaned cub.
He conformed to their ways ... indulgence begets an awakening.
De-sands a timepiece from Giza ... transforms the silent lamb.

Qualities of Osiris ... no longer foxes kinsman. 
Without manipulative truth ... mainly defines reality.
Loss crept e'er so close ... as circumstances affront him now. 

The iniquities ... recorded in that hallowed ledger, 
He lay claim to its authenticity ... 'twas him who'd inflicted;
upon those who were of wickedness ... and the righteous few.
 
He included self ... in self-afflictions of great numbers,
wherever the blame may lie ... be it concerning his existence, 
thereupon points those sharpened fingers ... deserving of it.

Repentance for his sins ... subjugated through crying eyes. 
His life for another ... sans a name or a face in lieu of tears. 
They shared the deafening silence ... two muted distinct smiles.

One in tears looked onward ... to a face of blessed assurance.
The last boat edges off into the dark ... desperation arose.
A great clamoring ascends ... into the bitter abyss.

The hymn, "Nearer My God to Thee," ... the chaos stops to song.
Ships officer calls out, ... "Abandon ship, every man for themselves."
Lost lamb hopes his roll's called up yonder ... as his last words read ...
Form: Sijo

Premium Member Lully, Jean-Baptiste, Lwv 55

~~~T H E   I N T R E P I D   P E G A S U S~~~


Star angels, dance within the quartered, light,
Of lunars rise, the age of Virgos' flight,
Sense its need for virtuous surrender,
And abandon Dragon's breathing thunder,

Phasing anew splits the night horizon,
For the course exposed to half, has brightened,
Some dynamic tempo, magically,
Whereto, the expanse defies gravity,

Ventures beyond dusk and stretches for dawn,
Greets the vested midst the foes, thereupon,
Enters Pegasus who stomps and stresses,
North Star alights as hooved clouds releases,

Whilst spread wings flick and cast flight, Pegasus,
Then heralds the advent of Genesis.


Date: 08/30/2019
howmanysyllables
14 x a perfect 10


***The entitled suggested background music to read to...
Form: Sonnet

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