Long Trilogy Poems
Long Trilogy Poems. Below are the most popular long Trilogy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trilogy poems by poem length and keyword.
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This set of three sonnets, a trilogy, captures human paradox. In reality, life is no search for happiness, but for truth. Man seems to search for happiness, but he is actually searching the truth of sat, chit and anand. And yet, he fails to look for where the truth really lies--- the inner essence. It is like one looking for some warmth on wintry night, sits in front of the reflection of fire in a mirror. The truth has been lost in his own human hut, but he searches outside. The third sonnet of the trilogy resolves this conflict.
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Life, what a god-given rarest of gift!
One, no such dilemma, but a way out,
And yet, a fact comes floating well adrift:
What’s barely so has been one beyond doubt.
Life’s never a long search for happiness,
But quest for Truth life can well turn to be,
Yet, harsh reality rules nevertheless,
And every soul hunts hard for ecstasy.
Strange, but in chasing bliss, truth’s what we search---
The truth of sat, chit, anand--- the true bliss,
Yet, hunting birds on wrong branches as perch,
No wonder, nigh misty truth goes amiss,
And what was lost inside the human hut,
Is being looked for everywhere, eyes shut.
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Reflections | 30.08.2026 | bliss/joy, dilemma, gift, happiness, life, truth, Sonnet
Look beyond your world.
The creation is not enough.
It is because of paradise that God cannot help us.
It is a paradise lost and
it is with love, we seem lost.
By love, God went insane.
He woke up in a week and found that everything was
created.
When I figured it out,
I tapped into a state of equal madness.
I went insane.
There`s a purpose when I question creation.
I did some soul searching
and I think God was depressed.
I had to ask God to question His creation.
I guess we are not the only ones who are breaking.
I felt myself going through numb changes.
I felt myself changing into the weather.
If God is learning emotions like us,
why couldn`t he have done better?
We are hallucinated beings.
We are exaggerated.
We exist because of love`s extremes.
We are possibly the Creators greatest mistake.
We exist until she comes back.
If God creates in His lover`s beauty,
then I conclude that the universe is a crime of passion.
Yet every day I wake up with a funny feeling.
If we eat love,
what exists on earth that is not edible?
I think to know how the universe works,
we should all be eating.
We should be beings.
We should all be creating.
I think the Creators journey is to watch
His own creation.
We are going insane.
We are imitations of God`s ex.
If we are here to keep Her alive,
then I feel that we are God`s Karma.
In the beginning, I learned that
the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God,
and the Word was in fact Her.
{XM}
TALK LIKE A PAINTING: SOCIAL APES TRILOGY.
POETRY COLLECTION BY
BZ.Mannie
link: https://www.amazon.com/Talk-like-Painting-social-trilogy/dp/1093118938
A trilogy of love: bared, shared, pared
Lust's shallow wave crests, cascades, crashes
Deeper, emotive swells rise, rumble, release
Conflicting currents form rip tide tugging, tossing, tearing
Amor's undulating rhythms pulsate
Low tide, latent fantasies surface ego to ingratiate
High tide, a endless churning of desires our longing cannot satiate
Libidinous breakers scour lecherous bottom; a brackish foam doth emanate
In the deeper recesses of our minds, a rational connection percolates
From the depths, a heart-felt thrust rises; a growing bond initiates
Two, constant minds mutually sharing space; each hope, dream resonates
Surface tension increases; two hearts mount each obstacle, common course navigates
Nearing balmy shore, strong winds of indifference blow
Into eroding channels untested lovers unwittingly row
Selfish goals drag the unstable pair into the undertow
Corrosive fears, unmitigated doubts sever trust placing love in escrow
~Nazguls~
(Free Flow )
If ever there was a day
when the song of men
and Elves
were to disappear
From the face of Middle Earth
and the hearts and minds of
Elves Dwarves and men
it was at this time of sorrow
They were once
nine Kings who
were great and mighty
But then from the
Black shadows rose
Sauron and the power of the Ring
they wouldn't be able
to resist
So one by one
they were drawn to its power
and one by one
they fell
And now they ride
ceaselessly
searching for the
most Precious the Ring of Power
The one that their dark
Master wants it
just to possess it
to conquer and to smite with it.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2015
October.27.2016
Authors notes:
-From my very extensive poetry collection and poems inspired by the LOTR trilogy and the Hobbit books and movies by J.R.R. Tolkien.
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These crown of sonnets on consequences of global warning reflecting on the recent calamities on Tibet-Nepal Himalayan border is a three-part trilogy that mirrors a dynamic arc:
.The first sonnet is the Thesis (the problem),
.The second, the Antithesis (the reaction/chaos),
.And the third, Synthesis (the resolution).
Thus, in the context of our subject matter, the first sonnet describes the crisis: global paradox on warming and nature’s warning; the second, human exploitation; and the third completing the trilogy, on resolution and wisdom for future.
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Though man has lived behind a fenced frontier,
He thrives beneath a single common sky
And shares the breath of one vast atmosphere
Framed by a frail ecosystem's pooled pie.
But blind to rising peril, man will stay
Whenever floods unleash a massive dread
To tackle rising tide a frantic way,
Unmindful to what warning skies have said.
The irony: the one who suffers most
Is green Nepal, though cleanest of the lot---
A global paradox that’s quickly lost,
The moral warning seldom getting caught:
For, nature sneers at borders man decrees,
Be they the moving air or frozen seas.
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Happenings | 18.09.2026 | ecology/environment, irony, nature, paradox, crown of sonnets
Placed 10th in the contest 2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 13 by Mark Toney. Contest was judged on September 3rd, 2025
The First of the trilogy that continues as "The Sober Dawn" and "Tonight Will Soon Be Over".
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Afrobeats played in the background,
his sweet breaths drying my sweat.
Palmwine rested on his shaky left palm.
Then he said the nonsense
that drunk men usually mutter—
an alcohol-soaked “I love you.”
He staggered within arm’s length,
already reeking
of eight calabashes of liquor.
The drink painted his handsomeness
into
a mocking caricature of a clown.
His trembling right hand brushed my chest.
I felt good—
as if the hot tropical sun had frozen,
and my heart raced
to his sheepish smile.
My feet quaked as sweat soaked my shoes.
The ground vibrated under dancing legs,
the overcrowded clubhouse
minding its own business.
“African Calypso!”
thundered an inebriated fellow,
his chorus landing ten seconds early,
ahead the mimed song.
My new guy copied him.
He dragged me to the dance floor.
We were both drunk,
so we both fell over.
Bottles of palmwine broken,
calabashes shattered.
Everything was messed up—
except the Afrobeats,
the only joy that remained.
The “Mayday” radio call message was the final voice from Air India 171 flight bound for London seconds before it crashed creating an eternal memorial for 241 gracious beings, with one survivor. My heartfelt sympathy and condolences to every family member, friend, and associate of those who made their ascent into the heavenly realms. May they rest peacefully in God’s kingdom, and may He dry the salty tears, and erased the heartaches of their remaining and loving family members, friends, and loved ones.
I have written a Trilogy Poem to commemorate and remember them reflecting God’s grace to their family members, loved ones, friends, and associates. These situations are never easy to fathom, accept, grief about, or remember. May God’s richest grace and blessings rest and abide with each of you, your loved ones, and family members until eternity!
In Three Winds They Rise
A Trilogy Poem in Tribute to the Souls of Flight 17 - June 2025!
I. The Silence Before:
The sky, it held its breath that day,
no warning sang, no wings betrayed—
just echoes of a thousand dreams
still packed inside a cabin's seams.
Some reached to call, some kissed the light,
and then —
the fall.
The hush of dawn could not undo
what humanity had flown into.
II. The Names We Whisper:
We gather now, with hands and flame,
each soul remembered, each with name.
The uncle, daughter, child, or friend—
whose lives began where theirs would end.
We hold their laughter in the breeze,
in dusk,
in prayer.
With seatbelt fastened memory tight—
yet still they rise in candlelight.
III. The Spirit’s Return:
But grief is not the end of love—
for wings are gifted from above.
We see them dance in monsoon rain,
we feel them walk through loss and pain.
And when the night is deep and wide,
they speak—
within.
Not gone, but flown to higher skies,
in three winds now —
they rise.
Dedication: This poem is lovingly dedicated
to all the souls aboard Flight 171 —
those who soared with dreams,
departed with grace,
and now rest among the stars.
May their memories be eternal,
their spirits be lifted,
and their legacy live on
in the hearts of those who remember.
© Dr. Joseph S. Spence Sr. All Rights Reserved (Epulaeryu Master), June 15, 2025.
This concludes the trilogy that started as "The Frozen Sun" then continued as "Tonight Will Soon Be Over"".
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I was woken by the drum of dawn—
light dripping through half-closed blinds,
the air still dancing to the ghost of Afrobeats
from the previous night.
Broken bottles stood like headstones,
each shard ready to draw blood.
My shoes slept apart, still mismatched—
a quiet testimony to last night’s confusion.
His laughter lingered in the air—
not the man himself, only his echo,
wrapped in the smell of palmwine and beer.
The mirror betrayed me kindly:
smudged lipstick, bruised tummy—
a woman reborn from quieted chaos,
half-ashamed, half-amused.
I gathered myself like scattered beads,
threading regrets through memory.
Somewhere between guilt and grief,
I found a strange calm—
as if the frozen sun had melted at last,
and warmth returned without a sound.
Outside, street hawkers broke the silence
that wasn’t silent,
their voices humming through the Sunday haze.
I stepped out barefoot,
hoping the earth would forgive
my drunken feet.
The wind is blowing gently
as the trees sways with grace
I take each step carefully,
keeping a steady pace
I scour the filed, not knowing where to go
hopping left, jumping and running right
hoping to find a wonderful sight
And then there was ‘you’
I rub my eyes to be sure.
Behold! your beauty’s still as pure
This is not a dream isn’t it?
Nor an illusion... Or is it?
My body felt numb as I freeze
I badly want to run to you
As the grass dances with the breeze
My heart longs to be with you
And you take a step, walking with finesse
Your face is a picture of surprise
And when you smile, I am in bliss
Oh! how I miss those pretty eyes
And then you stop right in front of me
You scoop me up and hug me tightly
Though I can’t clearly hear what you say
Your laughter tells me that you’re happy
I hope I can speak to say ‘ I’m sorry’
For days I’ve put you in misery
Believe me, I felt the same way
Being away from you is not easy
I’ve long for freedom but it was lonely
Oh! It was fun at first it’s true
But, forgive me it took time for me to realize
My real home is “YOU”
Now, how we start is kinda blurry
I just can’t remember it all clearly
But one thing I’m sure you see...
Our happy ending is certain to me
--- END ----
This is the 3rd poem I wrote for BUNNY trilogy.
1st poem is titled : BUNNY AND ME
And the 2nd one: WHAT FREEDOM COST ME
Please take some time to read the other poems I wrote.
Appreciate you all.
More than just word pages
It’s a read for all ages
Lessons learned and experiences gained
Theory through the journey
Adventure beyond compare
Truth and mysteries foreseen
Sentences overflow
You come to know
Like Flood Gates let out
Stories near and far
Beyond one’s own belief
You will learn to understand
Through the atmosphere of the mind
It doesn’t matter soft or hardcover
You will begin to discover
Look and observe
One step higher in intellect
Awareness takes effect
Illusions full of illustrations you wouldn’t expect
The beginning to the end
Never is a pretend
Testimonial open up
Open book straight line
Words and sentences and much more combined
Read out and let knowledge push on.