Long Time capsule Poems
Long Time capsule Poems. Below are the most popular long Time capsule by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Time capsule poems by poem length and keyword.
After all the agonizing years when I drifted,
a day dawns from the debris of hope
with the sunrise aura of the future,
my appetency rises from the dust of dream.
The bursting beams of the rising sun,
slicing through the ether of my emptiness,
carry your essence to my mind I configure
as an urn to contain my universe of memory.
The allure of the affable contours of your face,
assures me I could tone down
my bitter feeling and absolve myself of
the abysmal attribution of dismal discontent.
The flicker of your sparkling smile like a flower,
caressed by the jasmine ripples of zephyr,
flows with your fragrance with whisper of the past,
fills my psyche I craft as a crystalline time capsule.
When floral lattice designs the motif of my longing,
the buds emit the aroma of your redolence.
As the bottle of emotion I open time and again
the perfume of memory suffuses my heart.
Auburn swirls of wind-laden leaves
coast to the cleat-torn orifices
of soggy, mud-clung grass.
That massed flapping pile time capsule
of summer sunsets is crushed with entering steps
like the rusting rain refrain.
A shorn sheep freezes from dusk until dawn,
following a downward descending path,
tattered and weather worn.
Stepping stone pieces beneath our feet
beat against earthen clay
like the rusting rain refrain.
Stammering to speak for apathy's tragedy,
words are heard like Braille to a layman,
as tin roof dripping resounds loudly
for failure to embrace its sloping surface.
September's sobs streak down beauty's cheeks
like the rusting rain refrain.
A farewell feast of forbidden wheat
bloats our bellies into swells, stirring grief.
Playtime is rushed to sleep with resistance,
as cinderblock thoughts toss and turn
until drifting becomes corroding numbness
like the rusting rain refrain.
Blowing off the dusty dust
Of my old, old family portrait album
I see, in the beginning of beginnings,
There’s a whole lot of me, me, me me and me
Baby me, toddler me, goofy me, cutie me
School photos up to my Senior year me
Dispersed amongst them are family occasions
Like Birthdays, Christmas, and the such
My favorites are the goofy, unpretentious ones
The LIVE and not people posing picture ones
That end up framed and hung up on the wall
Looking lost amongst the many, many other ones
Then, there’s the Big Vanilla envelope:
A Great, Great time capsule of ancestry and all
A Great, Great graveyard of black and whites
One especially catches my eye, sending chills down my back
There stands a man, older than dirt
That looks like he’s wearing my bamboo made shirt
Not only do I look exactly like him
Looking back at me is that same foolish grin
And so I have to look on the back to see who it is
But I can barely make out his name
And yet it turns out,
He’s my Great, Great, Great Great, Great Uncle Jim
Wreath wrapped around the door of my hearth
Hearth's decor both symbol and integral part
Part of the pageantry and beacon of my hospitality
Material canvas eroding with time; modest beacon bequeathing my liberality
Time capsule which transports festive memories to my merry mind
Festive timber melded and artfully twined
Mirth and praise twined in harmonious refrain
Earthy refrain with delicate stitch and modest, pulpy strain
Modest harbinger of good will to all who it's crest ascend
Good will garnish that I with tidings of joy append
Garnish gratuitously crafted, residual hope to send
Hope that will past heartaches and trials rescend.
Sign post serenading Christmas past, while celebrating the decorum of Christmas present
Token garland in which future Christmas dreams to consign
Poetry as well as writing are both gifts and labors of love.
Jesus Christ has freely bestowed upon me his gifts of
Writing and poetry. I am primarily an inspirational/
Christian poetic writer. It is plain to see poetic/
Creative writing are my passions. And one of my major
Reasons for existing on planet earth.
Using poetry/writing as part of a time capsule. In order
For any future unborn generations. May discover and
Perceive their very own literary legacy. By desiring to
Make an impact and a difference in the literary circles.
Shaping and molding younger writers, and my peers
To uncover their own goals, hopes, dreams and planes.
Writing for the both the enrichment and amusement.
Are working together. Simultaneously in prefect harmony
And Creativity. Working together hands in. "Hands across
The water and hands across the sky,"The Beatles.
Often used exclusively for spreading the good news.
And informative news of the life Saving gospel.
Courtesy of my beloved Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ is my bright and shining candlestick. He
Is my brightly shining candle light. Illuminating the
Darkness in a sin stained world!
Turning on the Lamp of his lighthouse! Guiding ships
Into their Harbor of perfect security and safety. Entering
Their Home port of operation. And welcoming their
Loved ones safely back home once more again!
He is the Sanctuary of my life. He is my BFF, my very best
Friend. In the entire world I exist in! He is my guiding
Candlelight by morning, noon and night. When things
In my life go upside down. Jesus Christ sets things
Upside right!
He has bestowed his free gift upon other Christian
Poets and writer. Who know about writing and the
Gospel of Jesus Christ. Than will be revealed to me
In my entire earthly life.
Who far surpass me in Their very own ability and
Creativity. I do not compare myself To anybody else.
For I can Never measure to their professional quality
Standards!
But Christians, everywhere through out, the world.
Are spreading the good news of the gospel of
Jesus Christ! "Turn on the light house. Turn on
The lighthouse." Leaving it on morning, noon,
And night. Who love their beloved Jesus Christ!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
July 12, 2020
Time Capsule
I am lying in this bed in this room.
My bedroom that has become my tomb.
A time capsule of the past.
Of days that didn't last.
My children have chosen not to visit me, nary a call. They've left me in this tomb of yesteryear.
Hoping for the day they once again will. appear.
I had a stroke.
I assure it's not a joke.
It left me dependant on others for care.
All this is, for me, one giant scare.
In my room, memories encompassing me of days long past.
Awaiting when my children will call, dare I dream, they visit me at long last.
Until then, I am in the room.
That has become my tomb.
In this tomb of memories, I silently & solemnly cry.
Fearing, I'll be here alone & forgotten by my children, until the day I finally die.
Copyright © Ashe "Kristy" De La Keur Scoville
It's about time:
Time out of mind, time capsule, time travel, time frame,
Time zone, time to get cracking, time will tell,
Time to spare, time out, time off, time apart,
Timetable, timeclock, timeline,
Time for bed, time on my hands, time has not been kind,
Time flies, time stood still, time marches on,
Time to go, time step, time to kill, time is up,
Time is of the essence, time is on my side,
Time to sow, time to reap, time bomb,
Time limit, time after time, time to grieve,
Time is my friend, time is against me,
Time waits for no one, time ran out,
Time to put up or shut up, this time, next time,
Once upon a time, once in a lifetime, the test of time,
The time of your life, the sands of time,
One more time, storytime, quitting time,
One time too many, payback time, on borrowed time,
The time has come, these are the times that try men's souls,
Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country,
No time to lose, no time like the present, in no time,
In the nick of time, out of time, 'til the end of time,
Losing track of time, as time goes by, from time to time,
Now is not a good time, all in good time, for a good time call,
Let the good times roll, remember the time, take the time,
The arc of time, the best of times the worst of times,
Telling time, when I find the time, more time than money,
Lunchtime, launch time, high times, behind the times,
If I could put time in a bottle, in the meantime,
That time of the month, for the last time, in due time,
Daylight Savings Time, halftime, break time,
ETA, closing time, Central Standard Time,
Record time, spare time, timepiece, peacetime,
All the time in the world, most of the time, sometimes,
A time for everything, waiting time, doing time,
Greenwich Mean Time.
Time makes slaves of us all.
Time takes its victims without remorse or hesitation.
Time heals all wounds.
Nothing can hurt us the way time does.
It's show time!
Author's note: If any of you dear readers can think of other "timely" quips, I'll be happy to add them to my list.
*Image of Hourglass by Pixabay.
AUDIO: Tip; Right-click on volume then click on Loop of the drop-down menu for continuous play.
Flipped Hourglass
Count, onward we go, pivoting seized dunes,
Tempestuous pilgrimage outstretched phase,
Tick - tock, flops, 'tis a dog's day afternoon's,
O'er perpetual movements like scarred toons,
Lunar ... solar, yond the masque, nowadays,
Count, onward we go, pivoting seized dunes,
Small sand on big sand, tea time, macaroons,
Some glass menagerie extreme breadthways,
Tick - tock, flops, 'tis a dog's day afternoon's,
Fitting bits of earth, pour drain, honeymoons,
Time swings on, crystals encased pair relays,
Count, onward we go, pivoting seized dunes,
Scheherazade misses a night, whole moon's,
Bear flight you hefty load, back in someways,
Tick - tock, flops, 'tis a dog's day afternoon's,
A wonderment, gadget, like boom-box tunes,
Shifts drift collared in this time capsule gaze,
Count, onward we go, pivoting seized dunes,
Tick - tock, flops, 'tis a dog's day afternoon's.
2022 January 28
*1st Place*
Pick-A-Title, Vol 28
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2022 February 13
My father is a diamond in the rough
in that sometimes he would pull
a handful of golf balls from a trash bag in the garage
and hit them into the forest from the field behind our house
on a Friday evening when he had nothing better to do
And now when we go walking, occasionally
when the light hits just so
we stumble across an unwilling time capsule
in the form of a moss-covered golf ball
And remembering one man’s carefree days
we begrudgingly pick it out of the duff
only to deposit back in the garage stash
that hasn’t been touched in a while
May 27, 2023 A Diamond of Time Poetry Contest, Sponsor Julia Ward
Where’s twenty-twenty four
Standing by the door
Ready to leave
Would you believe?
Another annual cycle is done
Completing three hundred sixty-five day run
Fifty-two-week span
Now inserted into the time capsule can
Events remembered
January to December
Moments treasured
Memories pressured
Take the good with the bad
Happy and sad
There were tears
Cheers
Nothing fear
Going to twenty-twenty five
Healthy and alive
Starting with bitter cold
Quarter term getting old
Half way home
Heat tans our skin tone
Then the crispy air
Fall we will share
Once again together we will fight
Freezing temperatures with a bite
Since the next chapter will be here soon
Circling the sun and moon
Monitoring rotations on the clock
Never stopping the tick and tock
As it makes another lap around the anniversary block
Do we say good riddance? My dear,
Or just grabbed the new aged barley beer
For the traditional good luck toast
Before digging into the reason for the New Year’s roast