Long Torrent Poems
Long Torrent Poems. Below are the most popular long Torrent by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Torrent poems by poem length and keyword.
Glowing days that were once red-cheeked and ripe with promise,
Are narrowing like tall candles in a church window,
Tapering from the golden stand and the sturdy base,
To the glorious flame and the ever fading light.
The final birth of dreams that was once distant and cold,
Is now close, closer, ever closer.
The imminent darkened clouds of doubt, that haunt the wise,
Are now gathering close to form a ghostly shadow,
That will create a vast tempest, in a quiet place,
And a mighty torrent that will quench the firelight.
Unyielding waves of fear that are rising in the old,
Are now near, nearer, ever nearer.
To have once coveted the blue from the autumn sky,
Embraced the fallen leaves of a giant maple tree,
To have jumped into water without wondering why,
Leaped joyfully in the warm sand near the emerald sea.
Having playfully chased off the petulant sea gulls,
Broken twigs to build a fire against night’s attack,
Held tight in your strong hands the soft feathers of eagles,
And kissed a beautiful girl on the nape of the neck.
To have laughed at the tetchy clock ticking in the hall,
And smoked each distressing regret like a cigarette,
Knowing it would certainly give cancer of the soul,
The narrowing compels the pining heart to forget.
When forced to consent to the lessening of a day,
And to accept the waning of a moonlit heaven,
To wonder if the path taken was the only way,
Is to live in mortal fear inside a peaceful den.
To be ordered to find gratitude in the calming,
And to find a moments peace in the resignation,
Is not the purpose of the dancing and singing,
This game is but a trial of the imagination,
God has left the beautiful forest unattended,
There is no lesson, design or celestial rule,
To search for meaning is to invite eternal dread,
It takes a saddened, embittered mind to be that cruel.
An elegance can be found in the narrowing,
As memories line together like a pearl necklace,
And clouded moments vanish and amount to nothing,
And all are gently buried with red velvet and lace.
Love the narrowing, set in a purposeless blue sky,
Not because winter nights have become less frightening,
Or the smoldering summer days have now lost their sting,
But as there is no truth in the trumpet or the drum,
It is just a walk among the flowers of freedom.
And a laughing stroll through the narrowing of wisdom.
He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
there will be no more death or mourning or
crying or pain, for the old order of things has
passed away. Revelation 21: 4 (NIV Bible)
I AM IMMORTAL
Explode from mortal to immortal,
in one forgotten breath.
Intake of first light.
Born, through the tunnel of my despair.
First images in black and white.
Mind snaps new memories…
I’m nearly breathless, as he comes into view,
hand extended - the one pierced for my transgressions.
And funny, my heart is racing, I’m sweating…
Salty tears run down my cheeks onto my shoulders.
I’ve hit my knees, weeping, at his bare feet.
His gentle hand upon my head,
he says, “arise my child.”
I obey, and blink through torrent tears.
I don’t see, but I feel the softest cloth – like cashmere,
rub over my face, catching each tear -
not one is missed.
I hear the sound of tinkling water.
The snow white cloth, I see it now!
He wrings out the shroud, and continues to wipe away
my misery.
“Cry, my child. Let it all out.”
He speaks to me as my mother would, lilted words.
Afterward, he points to a bottle, takes out a permanent ink pen –
Oh yes, they have those in heaven!
Writes a name. I look up at him, with questioning eyes.
Someone’s name, an unknown to me has been written.
Jesus smiles.*
“I’ve named you my child.”
I instantly hear the pronunciation, and register the meaning,
which, I believe, will take me all of eternity to dissect.
How beautiful, my name rings coming from pure lips!
“Come,” he says, “come and meet your family.”
We walk together, inside open gates - pearly gates.
I feel as though I’ve entered oz!**
Vivid rainbow colors, and colors I’ve never seen before!
Happiness like chains falling off…
like heavy burdens laid aside…
like a fresh shower…
like a new found tropical waterfall…
And I see exuberant faces. I know each name,
even those I’ve never met before.
I’m treated like a bride, an assembly line that takes their time,
hugging me, kissing each cheek. You see,
I have eternity. I am immortal!
2/19/2017
*smallest verse in bible – Jesus wept (John 11:35). In eternity,
I’ve adapted mine to say, “Jesus smiles.”
**L. Frank Baum’s book Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Movie
starts out in black and white then turns to color as the
protagonist enters Oz.
DAUGHTERS
Opposites presented by Goddess
in talons of Eagle
on wings of Dove
Equally loved
A torrent from a fierce black cloud
yang frothing waves in a storm
beating seaweed rocks
claiming it in her bosom
then furling it afar
into unknown depths
where Neptune roars
his roar on end
boasting an indigo flag
Then ...light as a feather
yin floating on a shimmering beach
rosy ringlets microscope crabs, bubbles
giggling at ant antics
in crevices of creaky floorboards
while autumn Sun sets
dew drops on clover leaves
so misty morning says Hello !
A dancing juicy apricot
kisses at library doors
spongy beneath oak exterior
where beetles dug a hundred paths
staring defiance at an orange star
scornful, graceful, factual
proclaiming a Largeness of Life !
An Earth child in long waves of auburn
reaching for Mercury
A Spirit child, Earth located
One imaged from bowels of struggle
she whispered freedom in my ears
when behind prison bars
I sat counting toes
One imaged from Gabriel’s gown
or was it Merlin’s ?
she fingered watercolours
through my lenses
As Saturn said goodbye ...
Sirius screamed from wreaking hell
wrought from rages or sages unknown
Born in blood without its blue
from a womb of turmoil tremors
crystal dripping dark strife
hypocrisy contemplated
torn apart by churning guts
as young medics ogled
grimaced, searched
so premature, so incubated
it was “I will survive!”
Sun and Moon crossed one another
not knowing which way but loose
streaming rivers flowing sideways
in dusty towns, painted villages, rape
a gecko appeared on a pillowcase
Gangster peeped through a window
books came tumbling down
numbers flew away
lashes black as croaking crow
it was “I am here!”
There can be no coin to
ponder if not faces two
no tornado ripping apart
if no breezes play on
a horse farm in Karoo
No life if no death
Night clings to day
as daybreak clings to escaping night
sunset embraces twilight
negates itself, disappearing
one embalming the other while
flying
together on a silver thread
in blueberry Sky !
I am water,
I flow single mindedly in search of the sea,
I am a fast moving torrent of rage,
As I rumble over the shallow rapids,
I am a slow and lazy pool of the darkest, still depths,
I hover above you as a rain drenched cloud,
Holding back no more I spill down,
A warm cascade that sooths as I wash away
Discord and debris,
Your parched skin hungrily drinks me in,
I drench the dry banks and nourish new growth,
A slow and steady soaking inwardly seeping,
I fill your spirit and flow through your veins,
I am the current of hope and an inviting cove of belonging,
I flow gracefully around obstacles meant to block my way,
I batter the shores with my rage,
I am water,
I flow single mindedly in search of the sea,
Onwardly around every bend…..
I am Earth,
Home to all creatures, infinite and unconditional,
The bosom of my soil yields life, comfort, peace and love
I am wonder filled caves,
Green hills of glory,
Valleys rich in splendor,
I am steep rocky ledges
too treacherous to navigate,
I am dangerous slides of loose stones
To which you loose your footing,
Send your roots deep within me
so I may hold you up straight and strong
as your reach upwards in search of the sun,
I am generous in my abundance and shelter,
I am merciless in the barren waste lands that yield nothing,
My terrain is every changing, impossible to predict,
I am high mountain peaks too dangerous to scale,
I am a vastness of beaty and life,
I am Earth,
Home to all creatures, infinite and unconditional,
Patient, loving, forever
I am the wind,
The roar of my soul fills your head,
I am a whirl wind that blows through the cracks in your heart,
I am a restless first breeze of Spring,
That ripples over grass and skin,
I am the still and content breath of summer,
Breath me in and be filled with relief,
I am the un-predicable brilliance of Fall,
I touch the leaves and send them spirally downward,
I am the first bite of winter to which you put up your collar and turn your back,
I am the cyclone of emotion and furry of confusion
hat rips at the walls and rattles the windows,
I am the breeze that flows smoothly through the grasp of those
who try to hold me or control me,
I scatter your seeds to the four corners,
I am the wind,
The roar of my soul fills your head,
I change direction and disappear ….
Oh gosh, another tragedy.
The news of Libya
Shatters the world.
Storm Daniel brings down
The first dam wall.
Water hurtles
Towards the second dam wall,
Breaching it from the
Pressure, it breaks and falls,
Flooding the river which broke
Its banks and swept in a
Devil like, sweeping, horrific
Water mass into the
Town of Derma.
A nightmare of a situation,
Which broke all communication,
As bridges washed away,
Electricity no more,
Destroyed by the angry
Torrent, consuming everything
And everyone in its path,
With a determined wrath.
Eventually flowing into the sea,
Which in turn spewed
Out bodies rapidly,
And relentlessly.
What a terrifying night
As people died,
Leaving behind their loved
Ones to grieve, if they could
Find, or identify the bodies.
The town was leveled
To the ground, and
As Storm Daniel ceased
Its roaring
And drowning,
The living wailed,
And cried
And screamed,
Living each moment again,
Such sorrow.
Dear God, give them strength
To face the morrow.
They search for a sign of life,
A husband lost his children, his wife.
The red cross came,
Doctors, medicine, and nurses,
Volunteers tying to grapple,
And cope with this tragedy,
They climbed and scrambled
Over debris and mangled,
Bodies, Muddy water,
Cars that were smashed,
Homes that water swept
Through that were bashed,
By an enormous giant like monster,
A furious force of uncontrollable
Charging water.
The helpless prayed
Lifting their arms up high,
Towards the heavens
In the sky,
It was not their time to die,
Yet some hoped they had,
As the pain of knowing,
Their loved ones had
Suffered and now dead,
Would be a lasting dread.
People by the thousands
Became homeless, the
The number of the dead,
In the town of Derma
Was Unfathomable,
And Unimaginable.
They wandered aimlessly, in a daze.
Could they come to terms
With what had happened.
The survivor’s strength,
Would come only as they
Rallied together.
You must do that dear friends,
Rather sooner than later.
God bless you all, the world
Grieves with you,
You are incredibly brave,
Let all your good memories
Surround you now and forever,
And see you through
This horrible reality, a nightmare,
Think of the good times
Your heart and mind will remember,
And will slowly and slightly repair.
Where would I live if I were richest, and had all the money in the world?
Outside the square box, where no doors exist, and locks will never block
My entrance or exit, without four walls or framed bricked structure this
Is where I’d live and do now!
Again I’m asked where this address is, what fancy abode or country,
This location the French Rivera, or maybe even the city of romance Paris?
Nope none of these places will do for the likes of me, my substance
Is worth more than glitz’s and glamour allow, after all am I not
The richest person in the world?
I live within the valley of the thunder storms heartbeat, where flesh
And bone melt together as one unit, here passions lightning collide
Against the rocky torrent of desires epic flame,
Never to be extinguished or dowsed, by emotions ocean of doubt
Or regret!
But again these outsiders ask me once more but where, we’d like
To know, for we’ve never heard of such a place, give us the answer
To this riddle of yours Madame, for you are the richest person on
Earth the world must have the answer, as the paparazzi flash
Their gossiping, chattering, Cameras!
But these hungry mongers will never know the truth of the matter
At hand, for they’ve never experienced truth wealth of feeling,
Or valued anything but the almighty dollars golden card, of worthlessness!
Oh what an empty world, do these poor souls exist upon, a baron plain of
Dancing dollar signs, where false illusions seem real or tangible to the
Touch, but in reality are delusions images melting away, as time fades
The fame to the beauty factor unto nothing remains at all!
Nay I’m here in reality’s penthouse on high, beyond the fake staining of the
Smoke and mirrors game being played below, in this devotional residence
Without numbers!
For again the question was and is where would I live, if I had all the money
In the world, I’d live within the heart of this man whom dwells beside me,
He who’s sacrificed all for me, loved me always through thick and thin,
My shoulder of endurance and tenderness!
For what is true wealth my friend, but love itself my world begins
As his eyes open in the morning light, and ends when his close at night’s
Final twilight hour, where do I live within this man whom loves me!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
NOVEMBER 11, 2015
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BABY OF 55 THOMAS
"The Darkened Sky Stole my Tears"
**************************************************************
The Darkened Sky Stole my Tears
With my heart shattered in tiny fragments
Dark clouds within me clashed with each other
Inducing tears from my eyes like torrents
As I reminisced the torn love letters
Flung with force away in the open air
Laying my fractured heart open and bare;
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks like a river
Coursing to the distant dreadful deep sea
Driving deep down my ribs a cold shiver
Eliciting from me a pungent plea
With my head pining with persistent pains
And my mind shrivelling with stress and strains;
In midst of the raging inner tempest
Memories of sweet days spent together
Haunted the films of my mind with regrets,
Memories of scents shared with each other
Memories of melodious music
Swapped with each other sounded acidic.
Battling with the inner wild woeful waves
I tried to reach the crest of the current
With all my strength the sturdy storm to brave,
But I was blown by the rushing torrent
With tears still dripping deep down from my eyes
With my heart still shaking with a sad sigh.
Alas, darkish clouds gathered in the sky,
Auguring awful thunders on the way
Heralding still greater storms in the high,
The darkened sky stole my tears right away
As I had to bolster doors and windows
To avert still more unwanted shadows.
Arriving from unknown somewhere
He set up clinic in the market square
Declared he could cure any disease
Using herbal drugs of plants and trees
Townsfolk being credulous
Soon to his shop began to rush
Diabetics, rheumatics, asthmatics flooded
None over his degree brooded
A few weeks later, afloat was this rumor
He cures for he rightly detects the humor
Realizing that every client is a prospective fan
He talked in technical terms even with laymen
He would expose his victims to numerous medical terms
Also trade-names, contents, firms, diseases and germs
Just to exhibit erudition and sound philosophy
Without occasion he embarked on learned topics
Often dwelt on sedatives and epilepsy
Or discoursed at length on tumor and biopsy
Then in a torrent of rodomontade would relate
Histories of cases cured with specific names and date
Discourses full of references to Ayurvedic treatises
Madhav, Charak, Susrut and other varieties
To prove his point he recited aloud original excerpts
As a result ,he soon won the epithet: "expert of experts"
"Discourteous ingrates! They even do not thank
Though I give 'em new life" exclaimed the mountebank.
Always eager to spar against allopathy
At the slightest provocation he would lecture on allopathic hazards
Or would lament on untidy hospitals and unhygienic wards
Boldly averring: "To hide anything from patients is a deadly sin"
Within no time he became a celebrity
His tricks worked and brought him publicity
After a year DHO came to see him in person
And sought his counsel for his sick son
A minister's car at his doorstep halted
Just to enhance libido and weakness treated
He gave the minister powerful mercury dust
Which triggered his vigor and inflamed his lust
Then to CM's ears reached his fragrant fame
Who called him secretly telling him not to declare name
MPs in turn heard of this rare phenomenon
And turned up to consult him one by one
Director drug control came to seek his advice
For chronic dysentery and perennial bronchitis
At length PM had to send him his compliments
For service to nation and" particular "patients
The whole world acknowledged him as master of his craft
But a person knew his truth in his own staff
His compounder knew his master was a fake
But he swallowed the secret for heaven's sake
Learning when/how to close seat then...
flush... the toilet with good frisson!
(alternately titled long windedly
using lower case letters:
no matter tidily bowled over based
upon real events, perhaps subject devoid
of literary merit and/or taste
no embarrassment, cuz
I got nothing to cover
despite precious time going to waste).
Analogous to constipation,
constitutes full term pregnancy,
perhaps umpteenth or first,
which former offal bodily function I durst
mention, said subject doth stink,
yet... exercising bowel
applicative, constrictive, effective,
exhaustive, gesticulative, instinctive,
massive, oppressive, qualitative,
quantitative, significative and unitive
(beg to differ if ye think me perverse)
both scenarios prone to stress and strain,
difficulties can arise evacuating bowels
gluteus maximus muscles severely pursed,
radiating sharp stabbing sensations
behind junk in trunk quarters felt
until bulging temple veins ready to burst,
where piles of hemorrhoids
foul rectum tortured and accursed
necessitating Judas Priest well versed
to issue last rites while
appropriate official dull livers worst
news to missus, whose
inconsolable sympathies nursed,
nevertheless bit torrent of sorrow
honor alone time with grateful dead
subsequently finds medical personnel disbursed,
privately newly minted widow mourning
tears for fears immersed
bemoaning sudden permanent absence
gone fore e'er foremost farter figure first
instance obliterated, when posterior
uproariously (actually not funny)
inflicted hemorrhage emergency,
die hard ludicrous poet (me) experienced
all expense chauffeured ride in hearst
aforementioned purportedly roughly comparable,
courtesy hearsay, when
hypothetical woman with child,
(here, I metaphorically paraphrase)
as maven ready to take aim giving birth
(nine months after satiating
hankering call of the wild
buzzfeeding miracle worker whipped thirst,
and temporarily appeased
inherent maternal yearning
to beget offspring, then... off to races
sprinting at greased lightning speed
amazingly enough slightly protruded womb,
(among other fledgling
and/or practiced moms avid runners
all touted as winners relay race crossing
finish line simultaneously
comprising distance measuring more'n verst.
Rage, despair, grief, devastation and regret, flowing like
hot lava spewing out from a volcano through my veins,
pushing out my red hot blood onto this white leaf;
For suddenly and without any fair warning came,
an enormous black cloud that stationed itself overhead and
obstructed the sun from my first redwood seed in sprout
and with a great fury it released a violent torrent of rain,
drenching it completely, until alas my sapling did drown.
My budding redwood tree, destroyed before its time,
the damage is irrevocable and my sapling is no more.
Like a cannon ball shot from its cannon, fire shoots
from my mouth with all fierceness and in rage I roar….
“Who really is to blame for this unfathomable demise of
my precious sapling, my budding grand redwood tree?
Was it the black cloud with its tools of destruction or
the lack of assiduousness of those with their expertise?”
Yes, regretfully my sapling was not planted by the stream.
As a seed, in ignorance it was sown upon soil rocky and dry;
yet against all odds, my seed sprouted with some foliage,
but its roots did not run deep and so with the specialist I relied
to care and strengthen it so it could withstand the bad elements.
Sadly, they were specialists with an expert eye that could not see,
they were worthless and of no avail, lacking the assiduity needed,
for their eyes, mind and heart were blinded by their own greed.
Rage, despair, grief, devastation and regret, flowing like
hot lava spewing out from a volcano through my veins,
pushing out my red hot blood onto this white leaf.
For the black cloud is now set above me like a fixed stain,
with all might I struggle to escape it’s dreadful grip, but
still it hovers over me obstructing the sun from my days,
releasing a torrent of pain and in the agony of my loss it
drenches me and the answers to my questions are still opaque.
Oh...but take heed all you with your degree, my roots run deep,
I will not drown and like a raging bull I push forward so valiantly
for the lucidity of the answers, lucid as a glass made of crystal;
all for the love of my departed budding grand redwood tree.
Written by: Joan Marie Peranteau
copy written May 3, 2014
Dedicated to and written in regards to my beloved son;
Nathaniel Blaine Gibson