Long Trembles Poems
Long Trembles Poems. Below are the most popular long Trembles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trembles poems by poem length and keyword.
In this modern kitchen where laughter abounds,
Onions emerge, their potency astounds.
Strong men, once mighty, now succumb to tears,
As the potent onions stir up their deepest fears.
Yet within this vulnerability, strength takes flight,
As each man trembles, their bravery ignites.
With onions sliced and tears freely shed,
They cast aside their pride, their emotions spread.
The rhythmic echo of knife against the board,
Mirrors their struggle, where tears are poured.
With each chop, a piece of heart is freed,
Merging flavors with emotions, a culinary deed.
In the sizzle of pans and cries that rise,
Their onions' torment becomes a delightful surprise.
For the essence of tears enriches the dish,
Infusing their creations with a unique wish.
And as they stand, tear-streaked, amidst the flame,
Their unwavering dedication plays the game.
With each sob, a melody of devotion is played,
Crafting culinary delights, both contemporary and staid.
A display whose strength lies not in muscle but in belief,
In their tears, a testament to their passion and relief,
Transforming the humble onion into a feast beyond compare.
For within this kitchen filled with heartfelt cries,
Culinary artists discover truth behind tear-filled eyes.
It is not weakness that surfaces as they weep,
But a deep connection to the flavors they reap.
I'm going to share with you all...a dark part of my past.
A part that makes me sick and angry...an innocence that didn't last.
It was a time most don't remember...a time I can't forget.
A time I felt no peace or love...a time I just don't get.
I know that I can trust you...I know you can relate.
Some of you have suffered my pain...and have also shared my fate.
I've driven through his town...with trembles and violent shakes.
Sometimes I want to hunt him down...and get back what he takes.
I wonder why I had to lose...why I couldn't win.
My dignity and self-respect...are now gone with the wind.
I wait for death to find me...my pain and memories I pray death takes.
Then maybe I will find true peace...when I can no longer awake.
In Castle Ravenloft he waits, a shadow crowned in mourning,
a king forged not by mercy, but by the cold precision of fate.
The moon hangs low at his command, pale as a forgotten vow,
and every star retreats, afraid to witness what he has become.
Once a man of valor, his heartbeat carried songs of triumph;
now it echoes like a hollow drum, remembering battles long dead.
Love, the wound he could not heal, carved deeper than any blade,
and in the silence, even his immortality trembles with regret.
Barovia kneels beneath his will, though none dare call it loyalty
fear is the soil in which he plants his eternal dominion.
Yet in rare moments, when the torches flicker and curtains sigh,
he touches the ghost of who he was… and grieves in secret.
For the curse that grants him endless night demands a greater price:
to hunger for what he once protected, to destroy what he once adored.
He is both sovereign and prisoner, ruler and ruin,
Count Strahd von Zarovich the immortal tragedy carved from midnight.
Monday morning sneaks through shack and grime,
Bullets whirr where drug barons plot their trade,
Gatas tread gingerly.wasting hours and time.
The spaza hums,mugs chime,Rooibos Tea in the lane,
Bambinos sidestep shadows,mae geri into dustty tins,
Old timers murmur incantations under the day's first pain.
Smog sprinkles from braai stands where mamtanies fry,
Pirated Kalashnikovs twinkle in the sun's first glare,
Yet souls beat steady,declining lies.
Klevahs shuffle,wallets empty,agrrements whispered fast,
Tiny tots peep through windows,hearts throbbing loud,
Even in agony,a tenacious hope holds steady steadfast.
Through shacks,mirth trembles,sharp but bright,
The day starts with grit,with pain,with dreams,
In this dream struggle, the spirit fights for light.
On the heights of despair, where light falls askew,
I rise through the abyss of thoughts as through a dream,
The whole world is an absurd song, without meaning,
And yet, behold, my foes, the mountains do not laugh,
And the worms, silent, do not sing, only I, solitary,
Watch as illusions dance on stage,
Dressed in garments of clouds and smoke.
What a wonder to love supreme uselessness,
When morals and aesthetics break like reeds,
And religions become just shadows of forgetful gods,
How to live when all around is just dust
And your soul trembles under the eternal weight
Of the void that holds you close like a mother
Who has lost her child in the desert blizzard.
Ah, but the absurd, this playful demon,
Casts its light on the chaos within me,
And I lose myself in questions without answers,
In love with something formless,
A love that stretches like a river
You cannot touch, only feel its flow
And lets you drift in the drift of eternity.
Without purpose and without aim, my love
Is a play of shadows under the emerald sky,
And I, a lost dreamer, bow
Before the absurd, for only it gives
A semblance of life’s meaning, a reason
To pass through time like a traveler
Who does not seek a destination, only the journey.
"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind" - Edna St. Vincent Millay
soft
ripples
spread gently ...
death's frail surface
trembles with our grief
as each soul we cherish
plunges the gossamer veil ...
the warm arms of peaceful release
await there 'midst the tender darkness
to hold them close in their boundless dreaming.
Written and submitted on May 21, 2020
For the "Etheree" Poetry Contest
Dear Heart, Sponsor.
( Syllables = 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, counted at HowManySyllables.com )
WAVE DANCER
In
the
stillness
the sun smiles
spanning wide her
golden yellow teeth
blowing wind is shadow quiet
she is waiting waiting waiting....
Waiting and feeling..
slowly the stillness trembles!
It is disturbed...
little waves begin to creep and crawl..
Unabash! She goes!
Brave and graceful to take the ride...
Daring and excited to play with the waves...
Up. Down. Left. and right sways...
A rollercoaster along the foamy surface of sea
She was not taken aback by what she lacks...
An arm bitten by a stark sharp shark long ago
Instead,
She pursues the waves
Fearless to stand - tango with the wave curves!
a ballerina with a surf board moving ahead..
ahead
ahead each tunnel wave...
balancing on side and top of the wave..
power hugging made by the currents..
mind blowing love affair with the tides!!!
her missing arm not forgotten
but
a precious welcoming history
in embracing the world
with her inspiring story
of not ever ever quitting!
of keeping the faith afire with each rough tough situation!
of trusting Gods' reasons and purposes to everything..
of making the most even when something is lacking!!!
a conqueror of weaknesses!
a wave dancer of water tides and beyond!
She is BETHANY HAMILTON!!
______________________________________________
Best free verse poem - Poetry Contest
Sponsor SKAT A
~~~7th Place~~~
Olive Eloisa Guillermo
3:04 am, July 18, 2014
There is a powerful stench of sulphur
and the ground trembles as pressure
builds up. Yellowstone is on brink of
eruption. You will not hear anything
through the media, they have been gagged.
Experts reckon it will change life here
whole continents wiped out by poisonous
gas. Africa certainly will be hard hit and
as for Europe that's any body's guess.
America will be hit the hardest and left devoid.
So why blanket this news? The world needs
to know so they can prepare. You can bet the
so called cream of society will be well prepared
with shelters in remote places with breathing apparatus.
Trying to sit it out whiles the masses fall like leaves.
Yet maybe in vain as it could take a century or more
to clear. It is not if, Yellowstone volcano will erupt, it is
When?
Sometime in the next 50 years this super
volcano will blew with catastrophic results.
Humans and all mammals could be wiped
out completely. Nature will in time recover
and some life forms will adapt.
Life will carry on regardless, in some form
or other. Nature will breathe a sigh of relief,
gone are the germs (us) that polluted, destroyed
and caused so much destruction. After all Nature gave
us many warnings which world leaders chose to ignore.
In the clinic of cold conclusions,
steel speaks, sterile and certain,
microscopes measure mysteries
until wonder wears a white coat.
Yet in the shrine of silent supplication,
knees negotiate with the night,
candles carve courage from darkness,
and breath becomes belief.
Between data and divinity
dances a delicate doubt
numbers naming nature,
while spirit sings the unsayable.
The atom splits with surgical precision,
a prophet of proof and particles,
but thunder still trembles like Sinai,
echoing ancient awe in modern ears.
Satellites circle the skeptical sky,
charting the choreography of stars,
yet shepherds still search the heavens,
reading revelation in radiant constellations.
In glass towers of technology,
time ticks to the tune of theories,
algorithms argue against altar calls,
and circuits compete with psalms.
Still, in villages veiled with memory,
drums declare the divine in dust,
ancestors answer in rustling winds,
and tradition threads truth through time.
Sometimes, breaking – there is a sense of God’s love
Stirring – bleeding through the shadows,
In silhouettes of gladness – a dance with the wonderful,
Silencing all the dark’s promises, remembering only
Soft trembling of an ache, the feeling
Falling around me in flames, fires fed by insecurities,
Fires fed by pain – this is the breaking that feels like
A hopeless need, pleading to be erased by the music of grace,
The music, played with truth and making a way for beauty,
Beautiful souls soothing…
Sometimes, a light – glistening with the joy, the experience
Knowing what it means to walk away, free from the mourning,
Embraced by the sound – like rain falling,
gentling the moments
When the feelings bleed into my spirit –
Whispering faith, singing of praise, prayers
Pleading for His wisdom, His way, His understanding embrace,
The music of a faith far surer – far more durable than I can think –
This is the faith that comes from knowing what it means to love,
Love without thinking – without any rejecting or neglecting,
Without regretting…
This is love, love from the heart who trembles to be adopted
By the spirit who I need, Him – The ONE, the spirit who needs only…
To be given the opportunity to give freedom – to give
Without reason, without any reason… perfect love, perfect freedom
Love so alive it feels like it is almost tangible, more than a feeling
Yet, never a possession – it is more than physical, more than eventual,
More than a blessing…
Even in my heart, the darkness clinging – fighting the temptations,
I resist so I can see the moment when my heart is met with His kiss,
The moment when I know Him better than I could have ever imagined,
Because He is the One my heart beats after –
the One my heart believes
Forevermore… He is the ONE I love with a heart that He chose,
a heart That He loves…
Even my heart knows – the miracle of God,
the miracle of overwhelming
Love!